Where are my men? He leaned to the side of the trunk, keeping low. Piotr Orlov, his large, gruff sergeant at arms, the youngest son of a minor noble from Oxenburg, and Max’s most trusted man, leaned against a tree at the side of the road, holding his arm against his chest, a smear of blood on his forehead. A few paces back, Ivan Golovin, a tough four-campaign veteran, was unconscious on the ground, his nose bloodied. The rest of his men were nowhere to be seen, probably sent ahead by Orlov to scout for just such an ambush. Which I suggested he do, dammit. The thieves were fortunate in choosing their time of attack. Or have they been watching us as we travel?

Max bit back a growl. The security of the entire trip had been marred by Tata Natasha’s demands that they stop at every inn they passed, a practice he’d allowed to continue for far too long. The delays had forced them to travel at night, which was much more dangerous, but he’d been swayed in his decision by her age and obvious exhaustion. Despite her hard words and harder glares, Tata Natasha was old and frail. And as unpleasant as soured wine. That old woman will be the death of me.

A movement in the bushes drew Max’s gaze. Ah. More of you hide among the trees. He counted four shadowy figures flitting in the mist. It was impossible to tell if the men were armed, but it would be foolish to assume they weren’t.

As if this number of ruffians weren’t enough, sitting astride a steed at the head of the whole was a lone man. The mist swirled about the legs of his steed while a lantern shone behind him, casting light on those before him and highlighting the barrel of a long rifle. A sharpshooter, and in the same position I’d have placed him, too.

Which was it, a rifle or a blunderbuss? The uncertain light glinted on the barrel but hid the rest of the weapon. Rifles were harder to load than blunderbusses, and had to be cleaned between shots as the barrels were easily fouled by black powder residue. But they were extremely accurate; one shot could be deadly. Whoever planned this little encounter has done a damn fine job.

As Max watched, a slender figure appeared at the edge of the road. The newcomer held back, away from the action, yet all of the thieves instantly focused on the slight man. So, the leader has shown himself.

The man spoke quietly to the largest of the thieves watching over the coachmen, a veritable giant who turned toward where Max was hidden behind the fallen trunk.