Igor led Sandra into Moratrayas’ castle. The hunchback filled the air with endless trivialities, making it hard for Sandra to focus on her surroundings. That wasn’t good. Her father had taught her when she was a child to always be aware of what was around her in case trouble came. It was a valuable lesson for someone living in mountains, where rockslides, avalanches and monsters were a constant threat.

“Of course we didn’t build the place,” Igor rambled on. “It was empty when we arrived. So was the whole valley. The old owner was still here, but in the shape he was in you’d only recognize him if you were a big fan of jigsaw puzzles. Either a catapult boulder hit him or a dragon sat on him. My money’s on the dragon.”

“I guess that happens to some people,” she replied.

Igor led her down a long hallway lined with arrow slits on the walls and murder holes on the ceiling. Most signs of invasion and war had been removed from the hallway, but there were scratches and dark stains on the walls that suggested someone once tried to force their way in and failed badly.

Doctor Moratrayas had clearly made changes to the castle since taking up residence. Glowing green spheres hung from the walls and provided light. The arrow slits and murder holes were sealed with brass and obsidian panels that hummed. Sandra was willing to bet that those panels could open to release attacks a lot nastier than arrows if someone tried to invade the castle today.

“The problem we’ve run into is space,” Igor said. “The doc needs a lot of room for his experiments. Sure, the troop barrack and dungeon are plenty big enough, but the rest of the castle was cut up into little rooms. We had to knock out a few walls for the third lab. That happens when you don’t build the place yourself.”

“So who else works here besides you and the doctor?”

“That’s it, I’m afraid. There are a few goblins running around the place, but they just watch the fun. The doc can’t find good help. That was the reason for those messages he left.”

Puzzled, she asked, “What messages?”

Igor leaned in close to her. “You don’t know? This is a first, we get a walk in and without advertising.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t follow that.”

Igor brought her to a set of iron doors. He pulled a lever hidden in the left door, and was rewarded with a series of clanking and whirring noises. The door hummed and opened up to the castle’s main hall.

The main hall was bigger than Sandra’s home back in Sun Valley, and that included the barn and chicken coop. There was a huge open space with chairs and couches along the walls, and an oak table with chairs in the center of the room. A broad staircase led up to a second floor landing and hallway. Brass chandeliers holding glowing green orbs lit the room. There were two doors on the first floor and three more on the landing. The room was bare of paintings, tapestries, statues or any other decoration.

Igor hurried up the stairs. “Wait here. The doc will be around once he’s shut down some equipment. If you see anything move, don’t panic.”

“The last thing I saw moving tried to shoot me.”

“That happens around here,” Igor said before ducking into a doorway.

Nervous, Sandra sat down on a plush couch. She felt out of place here. The main hall wasn’t decorated, but the furniture was far better than anything she had back home. Wearing patched and well-worn clothing that showed its age, she felt like a beggar at a royal ball.
There was a whirring noise as something scrambled under the oak table. Sandra edged away from it. More whirring came from up the stairs. This time she saw something scurry from one doorway to another. She didn’t get a good look at it, just enough to see it was as big as a cat, shiny, and had too many legs. A pair of small brass and obsidian creations hurried down the hallway, a veritable herd of legs and arms scrubbing the floor as they went. Their movements were quick and jerky, and they soon disappeared into a room. She’d wondered how Moratrayas kept the place running with only one assistant. But if he could build help, why hire it?

Another thought occurred to her. His creations were just cleaning the castle. That suggested one of two things. A) Moratrayas wasn’t good at setting priorities if he was using them for something so simple. That seemed unlikely. B) Moratrayas had so many of these strange creations that he didn’t mind using some for menial jobs. That seemed more likely, but was also a bit scary. How many of these monsters had he built?

“Good evening,” a man said as he stepped out onto the landing. His voice had a commanding presence to it, with a clear, crisp tone that suggested both intelligence and authority. “Allow me to formally introduce myself. I am Doctor Alberto Moratrayas.”

Sandra looked up the stairs and finally saw the man she’d come so far to meet. Moratrayas didn’t disappoint. The doctor was much younger than she’d expected, tall with an athletic build. His hair was black and cut short, and his skin was tanned. Moratrayas wore black pants, black shoes, a white shirt that buttoned on the left-hand side, and black gloves that reached up to his elbows. Black goggles rimmed with brass concealed his eyes. He carried a brass cane, but didn’t seem to need it to walk.

Moratrayas came down the hallway and descended the stairs. His eyes were locked on her the entire time, studying her intently. In stark contrast to his creations, he moved as gracefully as a cat, and with the same expression of casual interest. His steps were smooth, and he practically flowed down the stairs. He carried himself like an acrobat, or a—

“You move like a dancer,” she breathed.

Moratrayas froze in mid-step. “I what?”

Sudden realization swept over Sandra. She hadn’t just thought those words. She clapped her hands over her mouth and gasped before apologies came flowing out of her lips like a river in flood. “Oh, oh God, I can’t believe I said that! I’m sorry, I am so, so sorry, I just, I, sorry, mouth moving faster than my brain for a second! I, I didn’t mean to insult you or, oh God that sounded bad. I am so sorry!”

Moratrayas gave her a slight smile as he continued down the stairs. “Over the years I’ve been compared to many things, most of them cold blooded and covered in slime. I suppose being compared to a dancer is no insult. It is, however, a first.”

“Uh, hi, I’m Sandra Sower,” she managed to say. She rose to meet him and tried to curtsy, but Moratrayas waved his hands and smiled.

“No need for pointless formalities, Ms. Sower. Let kings and nobles bother with such things.” He pointed to the table and said, “Please, sit.”

“Thank you.” Sandra climbed into one of the large chairs while Moratrayas took the one opposite her. “I’ve been walking for so long I think my feet might fall off.”

“Indeed. I was not expecting anyone so late in the year. You must have desired to reach me very badly to brave the mountains in winter.”

Igor hurried down the stairs carrying a silver tray brimming with food. He set it down in front of them and stepped behind the doctor. Moratrayas gestured to the tray and said, “You carry little baggage, and what you do possess appears empty. Allow me to provide some minor hospitality to a guest who has traveled far to get here.”

Sandra dug into the food with an appetite that would make a wolf proud. The tray included cream soup, a chicken dish that smelled of wine, sliced apples cooked in honey, and fresh bread slathered with butter. The meal didn’t last long enough to cool. Moratrayas watched her devour the food with mild surprise while Igor smiled. Finishing the repast, she realized too late that people with money had all sorts of rules about eating and table manners, and she’d probably broken every one of them.

“Sorry, it’s just…”

“No need to apologize for enjoying the meal,”

Moratrayas said with an indulgent smile. “An empty plate is the best compliment a cook can receive. I take it you have not eaten in some time.”

Sandra looked down at the empty tray. “Three days.”

“Unfortunate. I assure you that such unpleasantness is behind you now. Those who work for me are treated with the respect they deserve and want for nothing.”

“Work for you?”

Moratrayas leaned forward and folded his hands in front of him. “I watched you overcome my traps with great interest. Few attempt what you did, and only one other succeeded. For reasons I would prefer not to discuss, she proved unsuitable for my needs. You used no special equipment, making your victory all the more impressive. I take it you are not what the unenlightened refer to as a mad scientist?”

“Uh, no,” she mumbled. “Someone told me you didn’t like to be called that.”

Moratrayas nodded. “That’s quite true. I am a scientist, but I prefer to be considered inspired. Still, it’s not important if you don’t have the same education and training as I. A woman with your determination and quick wits will be a most valuable asset.”

Sandra looked down and tried not to sound as scared as she felt. “There’s been some kind of mistake. I didn’t come for a job.”

“You didn’t?” he asked. She shook her head. “Then you know nothing of the message I left when I defeated the wizard Tadcaster.”

“Who?”

“The wizard who took over the town of Granite Peaks and ruled it with an iron fist. I defeated him and freed the inhabitants from his despotic rule. I left a message inviting others to join me here.”

“I didn’t hear anything about a wizard in Granite Peaks,” Sandra admitted. “My town doesn’t get many merchants or bards bringing news.”

Moratrayas’ expression darkened. “Didn’t hear about it? What about my eradication of the pixie plague threatening the town of Two Rocks?” Sandra shook her head again. Annoyed, Moratrayas asked, “Is it too much to ask if you heard how I defeated the ogre bandits attacking river barges on the Moderately Magnificent Talum River?”

“That one I heard about!” Sandra said excitedly. “You beat four full grown ogres single handedly and opened the river to traffic again.”

“On that occasion I also left a message inviting likeminded people to join me in the town of Refuge.”

Frightened all over again, Sandra replied, “Nobody told me that part.”

Moratrayas slapped his palms against the table. “Three times I saved towns from great danger and no one heard about it! Hundreds of people in those towns promised to tell all they met!” Moratrayas shook his head in disgust. He looked at Sandra and asked, “If you know nothing of my invitations, then what is your reason for coming here?”

Before she could answer, he threw back his head and cried out, “Merciful God in Heaven, tell me you’re not selling cookies!”

“No! No, I, I’m not,” she said and waved her hands. This was bad. He’d been expecting a helper, and she was supposed to join his cause (whatever that was) or swear fealty to him. Instead she was trying to get him involved in her problem. Fearing the response, Sandra told him the truth.

“I’m from the town of Sun Valley. Armed men attacked us a month ago. We don’t know who they were or where they came from. They looted the town of our valuables and most of our food. They carried nearly all the men away in chains. There’s no one left but women, children and old men. We need help. I, I thought that since you got rid of those ogres on the Talum River, and did that other stuff, you could help us, too.”

His reaction was not encouraging. Moratrayas’ jaw clenched and his hands balled up into fists. There was a slight tremor in his shoulders and his lips twitched. His faced darkened. Igor looked nervous and backed away from his master.

“I see,” Moratrayas said through gritted teeth. “I will consider your request.”

Desperate, Sandra grabbed his hand. “Please, I’m begging you, don’t turn me down! No one else can help. The towns around us said they couldn’t send soldiers this late in the year, and that they don’t even know where to send them. What else can we do?”

Moratrayas pulled away from her and sank back in his chair. “You will have an answer soon. Igor, show her out.”

“No, wait!”

Igor took her by the arm and led her away. “This way, please. Mind your step, the cleaning crew is coming through.”

A horde of Moratrayas’ creations swept into the main hall and cleaned everything in sight. Made of brass and obsidian with glowing green glass panels, they were as tall as Sandra and looked like spindly men. Moratrayas ignored his creations as they went about their work, and he ignored Sandra’s pleas. Stony faced, he remained in his chair.

“You can’t do this!” she shouted at the hunchback. “We need help!”

“I know,” he said compassionately. “He’s like this sometimes. If you try to force him to do something, he’ll dig in his heels and fight you every step of the way. I pity the person who toilet trained him.”

Sandra pulled away from Igor and stopped before he took her outside the castle. “Igor, please, I’m begging you! These people have my dad and brother. The ones they left behind won’t last a year without men to work the fields. I know I’m trying to get him involved in my problem, and I’ve got nothing to give in return. If Moratrayas wants followers then I’ll help him if he does this for me.”

“He won’t take an offer like that. The doc wants genuine loyalty or nothing at all.” Igor patted Sandra on the arm. “He doesn’t want to admit it, but he needs a chance like this. Saving those towns was to get the attention of other mad scientists, but they didn’t come. Some grand adventure is just what he needs to get the word out about who he is and what he’s doing.”

“Then what do we do?”

Igor took two silver coins from his belt pouch and pressed them into her hand. “Stay at the inn down in the center of town. This will cover the cost and then some. Give me a day to work on him, two at most, and he’ll come to you.”

Sandra was on the verge of tears. “These people have my family.”

“And we’ll get them back,” Igor assured her. “The doc does care. Give him a chance and he’ll prove he’s as good as gold.”

Igor opened the main gate and led her out of the castle. “I turned off the traps, so going down will be a lot easier than coming up.”

Silently, Sandra left the castle and headed down the stairs. She’d failed. She’d come all this way, endured so much, and she’d failed. Sandra saw that the streets below were empty. No doubt locals in the town had gone inside to avoid the cold. This only added to her feeling of isolation and despair.

Distracted by her experience with Moratrayas, Sandra was almost at the bottom of the stairs when she saw a group of men coming up. There were five of them, wearing chain armor and armed with swords and maces. They had thick winter clothes under their armor and backpacks heavy with supplies. Dirty and poorly shaven, they reeked of body odor and sweat. Even under moonlight, she recognized the men who’d ravaged her town.

One of them pointed a steel mace at her and grinned.
“Grab her.”


Back in the castle, Moratrayas continued to fume as his creations finished their work and went to clean another room. Whistling cheerfully, Igor returned to take the empty tray away.

“Is she gone?” Moratrayas asked sourly.

Igor sat on a chair and put his feet on the table. “She’s on her way.”

“Seven months,” he complained. “I spent seven months and half my money demonstrating what I could accomplish. I saved thousands of people, and no one knows about it.”

Moratrayas slammed his fists on the table. “I knew it would be difficult, but we didn’t get a single recruit. Not one! I was sure at least one person in my field would show up, if only for protection and free food. Even a handful of flunkies willing to follow orders would have helped. Instead I get a Girl Scout selling cookies and a woman who wants me to spend even more time and money. Where did I go wrong?”

“Be fair, doc, you knew it would be hard to get another mad scientist to come work for you,” Igor reminded him.

“Work with me,” Moratrayas corrected him, “and we’re not mad. Mildly annoyed, perhaps, but that’s it.”

“Not your fault it turned out like this,” Igor said. “There’s a lot of big news lately. The new King of the Goblins led the goblins in war and won. That’s a first, and one most people aren’t happy about. Plus the same guy destroyed the Staff of Skulls and buried the Eternal Army. Big news items like that drown out smaller stories.”

“That proves my point!” he yelled. “This Bradshaw person comes from another world, yet rallies goblins, trolls and men to his side, making the world a better place. If he can do it then why can’t I?”

Casually, Igor said, “There’s another way to make sure people hear about you.”

“I am not hiring a publicist!” Moratrayas thundered. More calmly, he added, “Especially not at the rates I was quoted.”

“Then you need to do something else to get people’s attention.”

Genuinely curious, he asked, “The woman’s offer?”

“Look at it as an opportunity,” Igor replied. He looked off into an imaginary horizon and pointed at some distant threat. “You’ll be pitting your creations against hordes of armed men, slavers or worse. Hundred to one odds, and the forces of science prevail! Cheering crowds! Dozens of beautiful women throwing themselves at you! I’ll catch as many of them as I can, good friend that I am.”

“You said that last time.” Moratrayas sank deeper into his chair.

Igor shrugged. “Reputations are like plants. They need constant attention or they wither away. One more big display could do the trick.”

Moratrayas tapped his fingers on the table. “It would eat up the last of my reserve funds, plus take me away from my research for weeks or months. And in the end what would we accomplish? We save one town or four or forty. What does it matter if they’re in danger again next year?”

“At least they get a year’s peace.”

An ear-piercing scream split the air, echoing though the castle and shocking Moratrayas out of his depression. He jumped to his feet and grabbed his cane.

“That sounded like Sandra,” Igor said.

Moratrayas raced for the castle gates. “She must have run into one of my traps.”

“I turned them off!”


The five men attacking Sandra weren’t having an easy time of it. She made it halfway up the stairs before one of them tackled her. Sandra dropped her basket when she fell, but landed next to the torch she’d dropped earlier that night. No longer burning, it was still long and fairly sturdy. She grabbed it and swung it into his face, giving him a black eye and forcing him to let go.

“Hurry!” their leader urged. “That scream will bring him coming.”

Sandra struck another man across the face with the burned out torch. He swung his sword and chopped the torch in half. A second man came at her from behind and grabbed her. Sandra stomped on his feet as hard as she could and he let go, yelping and jumping up and down. A third man went for his sword, but their leader slapped his hand away.

“We need her alive for questioning!”

Two men tackled Sandra and pinned her down. The group’s leader pulled a length of rope from his belt and bent down to tie her up. Sandra kicked the leader in the crotch, and was rewarded with a shrill cry of pain.

“Drag her out of here,” another man said. “We have to leave before Moratrayas shows up.”

“Oh, it’s much too late for that,” a menacing voice declared.

All five men looked up in shock as Moratrayas and Igor ran down the stairs. The look of pure outrage on the doctor’s face would have made a hungry dragon back away. Igor climbed off the stairs onto a small ledge while Moratrayas went straight for the men.

Still hurting from Sandra’s kick, the group’s leader gasped, “This is no business of yours.”

“No?” the doctor asked, his voice as dark as his expression. Moratrayas pressed a button on his cane.
With a hiss it extended to twice its length, becoming a brass staff with a sparking tip. “You come onto my property without permission and bearing arms, attack a petitioner, and a woman at that, and you have the gall to say it’s not my business? You, sir, have just invited yourself to a world of pain.”

The nearest man drew his sword and attacked. Moratrayas dodged the clumsy overhand swing and whirled his staff around. He jabbed the sparking tip into his attacker’s chest, releasing a bolt of electricity that ran through his body and convulsed his muscles. His attacker could only manage a strangled cry as his eyes bugged out and smoke rose up from his chest. Moratrayas pulled his cane away and allowed the smoldering man to collapse.

The remaining four men drew their swords and formed a semicircle around Moratrayas. They attacked more carefully, trying to draw him into attacking one man while a second swung at him from another direction. Moratrayas dodged one attack after another, refusing to give ground but unable to score a hit.

Clank-clank. The arm and pinchers trap rose up to attack, this time with Igor riding it. He’d folded out a small seat at the base, and opened a panel to reveal knobs and levers to control it. Whirring faster and louder, Igor directed the pincers to grab the nearest attacker and pin his arms to his chest.

“Curse you, let go of me!” the man shouted. The arm lifted him as effortlessly as it had Sandra, but under Igor’s control it carried him off the stairs and dangled him over the drop-off. “Don’t let go, don’t let go!”

“I’ll think about it,” Igor said cheerfully.

Sandra climbed back to her feet, bruised and angry. She wasn’t sure what these men were planning on doing to her, but the ideas she came up with were bad. The remaining men had turned their backs on her, proof they didn’t think she was a threat with Moratrayas on the field. That was going to cost them.

She’d already lost her knife, cloak, torch and kindling tonight. That didn’t leave her a lot to work with. She grabbed her wicker basket. Yes, this would do nicely. She stepped behind the man who’d been giving orders, the one she’d kicked in the crotch. His day was about to get even worse.

Sandra swung her basket overhand and hooked it over the leader’s head. He barely had time to say, “What the—”, before she pulled as hard as she could. Caught by surprise and pulled backwards, he fell down the stairs, crying out in pain as he rolled down the hard granite steps.

The last two men turned for a fraction of a second to see what happened to their leader, giving Moratrayas the opening he needed. He swung his staff and caught another man with the electrified tip, shocking him unconscious. The last man standing abandoned the others and ran for his life. Moratrayas whirled his staff around and struck him in the back of the knee. He stumbled and fell. The man was about to scream when Moratrayas brought the staff down on the man’s neck, shocking him as well.

Igor climbed back onto the stairs. “Nasty lot.”

“Indeed.” Moratrayas retracted the staff back down to a cane and shut off the sparks. “In three years no bandit or brigand has been fool enough to enter this valley, and approaching my castle is stupidity on the verge of being suicidal. They didn’t just want a victim to rob, nor were they after a random woman for vile purposes. They could have gotten either of those more easily by attacking someone in town. They wanted you, Ms. Sower. They must have greatly desired to stop you if they were willing to risk drawing my attention.”

“That’s not all,” she told him. Sandra pointed to one of the downed men. “These are some of the men who attacked my town.”

“Then they traveled as far as you did through the mountains in the dead of winter,” Moratrayas said. “Why did they so fear you reaching me? This is a question I demand an answer to.”

Moratrayas walked down the stairs. “I will retrieve the man Ms. Sower dealt with. Igor, Ms. Sower, bring the rest of the prisoners to the castle for questioning.”

The last man awake remained struggling in the pincers’ grip. Dangling over the drop off, he shouted, “We’ll tell you nothing!”

“To the contrary,” Moratrayas began, “you will tell me everything I need to know to find your home base, where you took Ms. Sower’s people and who’s behind this attack.”

Alarmed, Sandra asked, “You’re not going to torture them, are you?”

“Of course not,” Moratrayas replied. “Torture is for the unimaginative.”

He stopped and glanced back at Sandra. “You requested my assistance, Ms. Sower, and you have it. No one brings violence into my home.”

Leaving them behind, Moratrayas reached the bottom of the stairs. He found curious townsfolk gathered around the crippled attacker. The people muttered to one another nervously, stopping when they saw the doctor.
One of the men said, “Doctor, we heard a woman scream. When we came to investigate, we found this man. He’s hurt badly.”

“The woman is well,” he told them. “This man and four more attacked her. The others are no longer a concern.”
People in the crowd grimaced. A man asked, “They attacked her on the castle steps?”

Moratrayas picked up the wounded man and headed back for the castle. “Yes. They have annoyed me.”

“Right, we’ll start digging graves in the morning,” the man said.

“It might not come to that,” Moratrayas replied. “I’ll keep you informed.”


An hour later, Sandra, Igor and Moratrayas had securely tied the five men up in the main hall. Sandra went through the men’s backpacks, handing items to Moratrayas for him to study. The doctor sent Igor to the castle’s library for maps, although Sandra couldn’t see how they’d help.

Four of the men required medical care, which Sandra reluctantly provided. Only one man of the five was able to talk, and he proved unhelpful.

“Where are you from?” Sandra demanded. “What kingdom?”

The man glared at her and said nothing. Angry, Sandra said, “Do you have any idea how much trouble you’re in? You could be executed as bandits for what you did tonight.”

“We’re not bandits,” he snapped.

“He’s not a bandit,” Moratrayas agreed. He studied the man’s sword, turning it over in his hands and looking for marks. “This weapon was made less than a year ago. It’s human manufacture, hasn’t seen much use and is well cared for. All five men are identically armed and by the same swordsmith. The armor is good, too.”

Moratrayas tossed the sword aside and examined the man’s boots. “Bandits get weapons wherever they can, stealing more when they can get them, holding onto old weapons until they are too dull or rusted to use. To have five bandits this well armed and with the same style is nearly impossible.”

Igor walked back into the room with a bundle of papers under his arms. “Got the maps you wanted,” he explained before dumping his load on the table. “This is everything we have on the Raushtad Mountains and surrounding kingdoms. Planning a holiday get away?”

“Nothing so dull. The men’s boots are new, too, hobnailed, leather, no fur trim. I recognize the style. Representatives from the Peck Merchant House came this spring trying to peddle the same type as mountaineering boots. Peck is new to the region and hasn’t reached the north of the Raushtad yet. You’re not from far away.”

Moratrayas turned his attention to Sandra. “Describe the attack on your town. Leave out no detail.”

“They came during the morning,” she said. “It wasn’t even dawn when ten river barges appeared outside town. We thought they might be merchants late getting out of the mountains before winter. When the barges came to shore, armed men rushed out and attacked.”

“How many?”

“Three hundred, maybe four.” Sandra shuddered at the memory of that day. “They used clubs and nets on us. They ran us down and beat the men viciously, then tied them up and took them back to the barges. A few people got to their homes in time and barred themselves inside. Those wretches set the houses on fire to flush them out. They took any man old enough to do work and carried them off. Then they took our money and half our food supplies. Then they took our sunstone.”

Moratrayas’ head snapped up from the backpack he was searching. “You had a sunstone?”

“It’s why we’re called Sun Valley. We’ve had it for five generations, using its light to speed up the growth of our crops.”

“Yes, they are most valuable,” Moratrayas mused. “Continue.”

“There’s not much more to say. Once they had what they wanted, they got back in the barges and left. We begged them for mercy, promised them anything they wanted if they would just let our people go. They laughed and said there was nothing left worth taking. I don’t know why they didn’t take the rest of us, too, or take over the town. Farmland isn’t easy to come by in the mountains, and ours is worth having.”

Moratrayas checked the maps Igor brought in. “That narrows down our enemy’s location even more. River barges are large vessels. Most rivers are too rough or narrow for them to travel.” He took a wineskin from the man’s backpack and handed it to Igor. “You know wines better than I.”

Igor took a swig of wine and swished it around in his mouth before he swallowed. “It’s sour and smells like the wine barrel it came from had a dead rat in it. Must be from Prenton Vineyards.” He took another swig.

“How can you drink that?” Sandra asked.

“It’s an acquired taste,” Igor said, and drank the wineskin in one long pull. “If that’s the only wine you can acquire, you drink it.”

Moratrayas took the largest map of the region and began making circles with ink and quill. “Prenton Vineyard only sells locally and to people too poor to buy better wine. That narrows our search down to the middle section of the Raushtad.”

The prisoner began to sweat. “We stole the wine. We broke into a farmhouse and took it. It was the only wine they had.”

“Keep talking and I’ll gag you,” Moratrayas warned him. He checked the man’s hands next. “You’re new at this.”

Sandra peered over his shoulder. “What do you mean?”

“He has no scars. A man who fights for a living gets hurt in battles and training accidents. The other men are the same. Their faces and hands are unblemished except from the injuries we inflicted today.”
Moratrayas went through their pockets next. He took out a collection of copper coins and dumped them on the table.

“Hey, that’s mine!” the prisoner shouted. “I earned it!”

“Igor, if you please?” Moratrayas asked. Igor stuffed an old sock in the prisoner’s mouth to shut him up. “Thank you. Most of the coinage is minted locally. I see a few from Granite Peaks, with their particularly stupid emblem of a frightened woodchuck. But these others are new to me, and he has a lot of them. They have a fist imprinted on one side and a starburst on the other.”

“I’ve seen them before,” Sandra told him.

“You have? Where?”

“Back at home. Merchants have been passing them around for two years. We hadn’t seen them before that, and suddenly a lot of them are going around. The metal’s not too pure, but we have to take what we can get.”

Moratrayas rubbed his chin. “Interesting. Who would be minting new coins?”
With Sandra and Igor watching, Moratrayas drew one circle after another on the map. Each circle was smaller than the one before and inside the larger one. “Not too far north based on the boots, closer to the middle of the mountains based on the wine…yes. There’s still a lot of unanswered questions, but based off the evidence our enemies have provided and which rivers are large enough for their boats to pass, the attack against your village came from the Kingdom of Stone Heart. That’s unfortunate.”

Curious, Sandra asked, “Why?”

“I was born there.”