Caikhatu sidered himself a simple man. He ruled over a small , and the prospect of earning a bountiful patch of nd outside of the resource-scarce Steppes ied him. Bondsmen, flesh markets, and suterested him evehan they had his father, may the Sky bless his soul. He knew his limits and avoided attrag the ravenous eyes of the rger vultures, stig to sure wio stay alive. When the Khatun sounded her call, he wisely entered Iron Lord’s shadow, believing it to be the safest pce where he could avoid politics.

  But sometimes being a simple man no longer sufficed, and a spark of long-quenched ambitied anew in his broad chest. To survive, he o win, and to win, he had to py, putting those of his the camp at risk. And that thrilled him.

  Iron Lord rested in his private train, being repaired aed, as his dear ally reported. His future wife had proven herself rather resourceful, fueling Zulfiya’s worries of meeting the same fate as Mehmed. Not to be outdone, Caikhatu soared off on his own hunt.

  Brood Lord, paranoid and ing as ever, used his sycophants, of whom Caikhatu was a member, to spy on each other, but with his surgical augmentation, he summohe stro of them, creating a bance where none could betray him without exposing their backs to their rivals. Phaser pined over his wealth, secretly his services to the lesser minions, and a wave of assassinations swept over the khan’s positions. And Drozna fell out of favor, but the man was too wicked and loyal for Caikhatu to draw him into his growing circle.

  Hm… Who is left, then? Whose is cide with survival? The lesser khan mused, pyfully getting irritated. The Khatun took over the Horde, leading it directly like in the first days of quest. No traps hihem; her raiding parties expertly turned any Recimers’ ambushes right ba them, culling aahe mindless marauding among Brood Lord’s forces had ceased after the third fying, and the Horde advanced in a single, unified front, pausing for their st rest before the siege.

  Glorious demise pyed a huge role in the Horde’s everyday life, carefully fostered by the priesthood. Musis and drunken soldiers sang legends of the past khans, and many yearo achieve simir immortality. But the ret losses stirred a dissent of sorts. Here and there, words were hushed about pointless deaths and grumbling over the lost rivals, family, or loved ones.

  After them, Caikhatu hunted and strengthened his ranks. Most believed that he inteo betray Brood Lord and joined him in a desire to aveheir leader’s wastefulness. In a way, they were right. No one sane would’ve challenged Mad Hatter. Not uhey had a demigod of their own.

  He smiled, satisfied with his new khatun. Ashbringer wasn’t bad, a bit too trusting, but well, that’s what a head of cery was supposed to pensate for. He briefly sidered addressing Svetaker. The man sulked and drank wine while the healers atteo his burns and arm.

  Even sitting, he towered over many of the visitors to his vast flesh market, his eyes hawkishly trag every deal. Born a simple bondsman, this man had murdered his owner, ripped out her guts, and taken over her , building a reputation as a crazed beast who would never five a single slight, no matter who did it. His bloodline was of the dirtiest and lowest quality, but after stig to his principles for so long, even the Purebloods respected him.

  That is why he wasn’t viable. Not unless Iron Lord betrayed him. Widowmaker rested in an e panquin with yellow dots, surrounded by her of liberated sves and former bohey chilled peacefully in the festival area, their patrolling duties dohey weled the Purebloods and even the lowliest bondsmen equally, and cheerful songs rang out from their dire from their encampment.

  But occasionally the ornate door of the panquin opened, and Widowmaker sprang before drunken fools g their superiority over the bohen a challenge was issued, and if the ambushed party was unwilling to grovel at Widowmaker’s feet, her sword sshed out, creating a corpse.

  Widowmaker, a sve freed at Mad Hatter’s whim, dispyed none of the cruelty on to most khans, openly expressing her disgust with svery and her desire to murder Svetaker. She was also Sky-kissed in the head and unreliable. The woman had numerous opportuo take revenge on the one who sold her family by joining one of the many plots against Svetaker, but she never did, blindly obeying the Khatun until her debt was repaid.

  Too risky, Caikhatu decided. He wouldn’t get involved with someone whose motives he couldn’t uand. His eyes spied out his target. A lithe figure in a bright crimson bodysuit, with a chest painted in domino’s colors. Heika, the remaining assassin of Brood Lord. She weaved arous, often avoiding patrols, wandering through the camp as if at random, but never esg his sight.

  He wasn’t that stupid to assume it was thanks to his skills.

  They came to a row of ste crates in the south of the camp, not far from the circle of a defensive line. Skewered on spikes, the dead eyes of the Recimers saboteurs silently warned Caikhatu of the price of failure. He walked uhem, exged a few jokes with a patrol, and squeezed into a space between two crates, watg the bright crimson disappear ahead.

  The tunnel led him to a small clearing ahead. A weary band of leaderless misfits gathered there, warming their palms over a small fire and sharing bowls of arkhi, while a carcass of a horned animal turned over the fmes, spreading its delicious aroma.

  “My sister died earlier today,” a Pureblood said bitterly, tearing a leg from a prepared animal, and to Caikhatu’s surprise, a bondsman sitting nearby put a hand on the man’s shoulder. “Their ons fired and fired, and Brood Lord kept throwing us after that freak Drozna. She was injured and suffocated on those damned fumes.”

  “And Mad Hatter was o be seen,” another bondsman hiccuped, spitting out her broken tooth. “What’s the point of getting riches if we die before we even spend it?”

  “Don’t utter her ’s the khatun for the likes of us!” the Pureblood gasped, looking anxiously at the most unusual members of this dissatisfied gathering.

  Priests. Hidden by the shadows, Caikhatu experienced a small shock. A woman and two men, dressed in gray robes and gold s, shared the fire with the soldiers. The fair-skinned woman’s legs resembled avia, stout and strong, bd ending in talons. Sharp feathers covered the arms of her panions, and beaks served as mouths.

  “Or what?” The bondsman wiped her dirty mouth, twitg as she touched a pus-covered boil growing on a poorly treated cut on her lip. “She’ll kill me? We’ll die either way in stant wars of this crazy bitch, and her pdogs and fresh fools are ready to repce us. Don’t look at me like that! When was the st time you woke up without an ache in yer bones or free of fever?”

  “That’s…” The Pureblood stopped, casting a pleading look at the priests. “She didn’t mean anything disrespectful. We uand that…”

  “Dantai may have been wrong to anoint her,” the priestess spoke with a voice of a raven’s cry mingled with perfect human speech. “Mad Hatter cims to serve the Sky, yet she lets the disbelievers prosecute her quests and disappears when the faithful need her most. The blessing, if there was any to begin with, is wasted on her, and Dantai trails after her like a chick, worshiping her instead of settiraight.”

  “Much good these nds have brought us,” said her panion, pig a handful of soil with a bahree-fingered hand. “Ground to bury our best.”

  “Even that is uain.” The third priest tried to lift his left arm, gave up, and reached for a bowl with his right. “If Iron Lord keeps having his way, we won’t even have ruins. Gss underfoot, what a reward!”

  “Destroying aire settlement. Insanity,” the Pureblood nodded, growing braver. “Dantai should’ve ended him for such heresy.”

  “If corpses you want, then it isn’t eveni,” a cold voice brought pale color to the Pureblood’s skin.

  Heika jumped from a tainer and nded directly on the animal carcass, smashing it and spraying fmes at the gathering. A priest raised her hand, redireg floating fiery surge and pieces of wood back at the assassin, but a shimmering, blurry wall of swift dagger strikes hid her briefly, shielding her from damage.

  “Dissent,” Heika accused, stepping over the meat and advang at the limping Pureblood. “Disloyalty. Disrespect. Calls for the death of your superior. I wonder, how far are you from the open rebellion, curs? Or is hoping that your betters will do the dirty deed for you, all yood for?”

  “Their deaths won’t bring your brother back!” Caikhatu called, daring to step into the open before the group reached for their ons.

  Now he uood why Heika had led him here. She had assumed that Brood Lord didn’t trust her and had assigned him to watch over her. To prove her loyalty, she brought him to a group of potential rebels to soak her ons in their blood.

  A good pn, and perhaps it was wise to sit this o, cutting costs, but Caikhatu sensed a rese in Heika’s st sentehere was a tiny ce here, and he decided to gamble.

  The crimson-cd figure crashed into him, beating him off his footing and smming Caikhatu into the crate with an ued strength, pressing a dagger coated in poison, desigo kill even the fi purebloods, to his neck. Hateful eyes looked at him from behind the split mask.

  “Miing what you said, ckey?” Heika asked in a hoone, uhing the sed dagger.

  “My death also won’t bring you peace,” Caikhatu said, gulping against his will. Sweat rolled down his forehead under his colr; he leaned back, desiring te with the slightly rusty crate. Anything to escape the death hidden in her on.

  The dagger didn’t move.

  “He… he brought you into that pce alone and sicced you on unworthy targets, as if you were mere watchdogs.” Caikhatu licked his lips, trying not to squeal. “Then you had to escape the p your own. Did you even know about the ing explosion? Did any of our leaders bother to tell you of the danger? Is this any way to treat a loyal bde? The Recimers killed your brother, but who was it that put you in harm’s way without support or cover?”

  For a long time, he thought himself dead. There was little beside hatred in Heika’s eyes; the assassin desired, almost o kill. She took several rasping breaths; waves passed across the fabric of her e from shuddering and spasming; the poisoned edge danced and danear his neck, preparing to bite.

  Then Heika released him and stepped baot b to look at the crowd. He quickly gestured for the priests to rex and for the Pureblood to lower his gun.

  “You have five minutes. If I won’t like what you say, you are dead. If aries to escape, they’ll share my brother’s fate.”

  Caikhatu smiled and wiped the sweat from his brow with a shaking hand. Miracles I perform for you, Khatun Ashbringer, lesser Khatun Janine…

  “We all know who is the source of our woes.” He walked to the ter, picked up one bowl still taining a little arkhi, and offered it to Heika. The woman took it. “Liar arayer leads us. Why should we serve him? You spoke of fate, but what destiny other tharu waits for us under his leadership? Brood Lord will never value aher than himself. My friends, I offer you another path, not of death, but of revenge and survival…”

  ****

  Stupid Normies. Bothersome, meddling Troll. Impatient One frowned, examining the chocote bars on a tray o vegetables and two steaks. The doctor had given her a simple choice after she had donated her blood. Either she would eat this “banced diet”, or he would remove her from the front due to her injuries. She tore a er and watched the rec for the tenth time, praying to the Spirits that she was wrong.

  She had visited Soulless One in Houstad, admitting her inadequa setting Jaraight and her hubris in visiting Camelia, intending to create a true alliaween their groups. The older shaman gave her a simple penance, a hundred days without tasting sugar, wine, or other sweets. Only water and simple food. And she had already broken that oath she had sworn to her wise mentor.

  Impatient One andeered a small room with a small terminal and turned on the records of the test battles, diligently writing the st seds of the fallen Wolfkins. No kinsman could remain unated for. Later, other shamans would pass these records on to the orphaned cubs and offer them guidance. After pleting her icle, she returo a single moment that had haunted her, and a shiver ran down her spine.

  The floor shook, and Impatient One, distracted from watg, turhe armchair to the entrance. A pale snout showed from the darkness of the room; a little crimson fluff covered the white scalp, and a half-grown eyelid tried to close around the eye. Alpha, the stro warlord, bowed, wearing a patesh of several coats sewn together to aodate a Wolfkin of her size. Several of her injuries still steamed through bandages.

  Alpha had appeared half an ho, passing through the ranks of the soldiers unseen and unannounced, leaping high into the air as she approached the fortress and nding with a thunderous crash atop it. The sour warlave the guards a few pointers on how to improve the perimeter, theo talk to her named sisters. Impatient One knew little of what they were talking about, but since Martyshkina and Janine remained unharmed, the three parted on friendly terms.

  “You called, Shaman.” It wasn’t a question. More indignation at having to ahe summoning of an unproven junior like Impatient One.

  She slipped off the armchair and k, praising the superiority of her sister aablishing the hierarchy. Alpha straightened and poi the food with her jaw. Impatient One scowled but resumed eating.

  “Shamans of the Martyshkina’s pack are overworked. Lacerated One assigned me to the memorial task, and I need an experienced opinion,” the shaman said bluntly, eating a ut nougat bar.

  “Spiritual matters are not my forte,” Alpha answered and came closer.

  “But this is.” She stopped the frame where Anissa stood over the dead in Opul, with the cubs and Kaisa near her. A trembling ced on the s, drawing Alpha’s attention to the important part. Ptes bulged. Hard. And then the bulge receded, disappearing faster than the eye could follow. “Is it the result of the reward? They defeated a mighty enemy.”

  “It may as well be,” Alpha said slowly, watg the s without blinking. “I didn’t smell anything out of the ordinary when I got on board.”

  “Thank the Spirits!” Impatient One ched her paws together. “Oh, thank you for your mercy! The Supreme Shaman must be informed.”

  “Obviously. If there is even a sliver of a ce that… Shouldn’t the shamans be happy about it?” Alpha asked, keeping her eyes on the image.

  “Well, maybe I am a shitty shaman who doesn’t want to lose any more kio divinity!” Impatient One shot back, frustrated by the situation.

  Lacerated Oen began to call her for various odd duties after Impatient One delivered news about the inpetence of their sister tasked with raising Kaisa. The iion of various establishments in Houstad to form a verdi whether or not they were a dangerously det influence. Direvolvement with tokens. Was she being shunned for ratting out on a fellow shaman? Was that a sort of humiliation tactic?

  A call from the warlord demanded her immediate attention, and Impatient One excused herself, quickly finishing food, gathering the letters she had prepared, and heading for the exit.

  “Impatient One, was it?” Alpha called her. “You would care for any sister?”

  “And brother. I’ll shield the good, guide the lost, and direct the bad,” Impatient One answered, reg the vow of the first shaman.

  “And if you ever make a mistake?” the warlord asked, staring at the s.

  “Then I’ll own it and apologize.”

  “Even if it hurts your pride oes against your ideals?”

  “My pride is not an injury to kill me,” ughed Impatient One, genuinely amused at the question. As if Alpha or Janine would do anything less! “And the truth doesn’t give a damn about personal prejudices. Only the Tribe’s well-being and our obligations to the state matter.”

  Alpha grumbled and said: “Then perhaps you are not a shitty shaman, girl. Call me a Normie or an Ice Fang. I’ll need paws here.”

  “Why?” Impatient Ourned he doors, her heart pounding. “I thought we agreed that this wasn’t it.”

  “Humor me.” Alpha shook her shoulders, standing with her back to the shaman. “In my dition, I am not fit to a, but I must review certain as otlefield. Rest, sister.”