Hoping to head off Kaczmarek before she did anything rash, I touched the brim of my hat in an informal salute.

“Can I help you, good man?” I asked.

“You embarrassed me last night,” he accused, pointing at Kaczmarek. “I want an apology.”

“I’m sure–” I began, but Kaczmarek spoke over me.

“You did that all by yourself.” She glowered at him. “I just happened to be there.”

He sputtered. “You struck me! Two blows!” His voice had risen to a shout as he gestured violently with two fingers splayed. “Me an honest merchant, and you struck me on the face! I should take you to the Magistrate and see you thrown in gaol, you–” he ran off into a set of slurs that made me wince.

Kaczmarek’s eyes had gone cold, her face a blank mask except for the colour flooding it. “You harassed me, moron. Do you remember what I said last night?” She asked in a tone full of venom, hand going inside her jacket. The merchant looked like he was about to give her another earful instead, so she just kept talking. “I said next time it’d be the knife. Now do us all a favour before someone gets hurt and kindly f–”

This is going nowhere, I thought. It wasn’t even the eighth hour and it had already been a long day. I cut the jäger off with a sharp gesture.

“You’ve made your point, Kaczmarek,” I said, moving on to address the merchant. “It’s been a trying time for us, good man, and tempers are strained. Could we cover the cost of your stay and a poultice for your lip and put this unfortunate exchange behind us?”

It did not work as well as I’d hoped. The merchant’s face twisted, made grotesque by the puffy lip. “You want to pay me off?” He was shouting in earnest now, stepping towards us. I – as subtly as I could – placed a hand on His Highness’s shoulder and pressed back lightly, encouraging him to step back out of the way. The merchant kept ranting, spittle flying as she shouted. “Do you think I’m some kind of Kimter counting his gold all day? You want me to look past you because you flash a pittance at me? Hah?”

He was only a metre away, now, glaring up at me. At least he’s turned away from Kaczmarek, I thought. Not that I was concerned for the jäger’s health, of course; rather I was nearly certain the next thing she offered the man would be a knife blade, and I would rather not deal with that.

My patience for entertaining the bellend fraying thin, I stared back down at him unflinching. He stood substantially shorter than me, though wider around – but probably mostly fat, not muscle.

“You are overstepping yourself, good man,” I said, forcing a calm tone. “You began this, and I think I’ve been quite reasonable. Now if you please, we’ll be about our business, and I suggest you go about yours.”

“Are you trying to start a fight with me?” He challenged in response, balling his hands into fists at his side. The haulers shifted, still where they’d originally stood a ways back, not looking wholly comfortable.

“Immer, no!” I all but shouted back, clutching at my temples. “We are trying to be on our way without troubling you further. Now excuse me, and good day.” I offered a fraction of a bow and strode off past the man – who was rapidly acquiring the sobriquet of “Sot” in my mind. I stared over my shoulder at Kaczmarek, hoping to somehow communicate with my eyes that she was not to stab this man, no matter how much a nuisance and a pest he might be. I ignored his yelling, yanking Munter’s harness off the hook on my way past.

The horse in question greeted me with a snort and a stomp. “Not today, lad,” I warned him with a glare. “I’ve enough of belligerent fools for a lifetime already.” I saddled him up quickly, resisting the urge to yank on the buckles. The poor beast had done nothing to deserve it. I moved on to the prince’s horse, sparing a glance across the stable for Kaczmarek and Alemayehu. The jäger was a little slow, but had had enough practice in the last week to know what she was doing with the tack. The magus had apparently found the stable boy somewhere, and was watching him saddle up his mount – a fine chestnut.

The familiar routine of fitting the pieces, fighting with Munter over tightening the girth, and double-checking Kaczmarek’s work settled my mind somewhat and let my blood cool. Naturally, then, as I led Munter out of the cool but cosy stable into the crisp spring air, some sixth sense whispered in my ear.

I raised my hand just in time for a fist to crash into my forearm, knocking me off balance to stumble against the big gelding. A moment later another blow struck me in the midriff, driving the air from my lungs. Fighting the urge to double over I lashed out with my foot, earning a cracking connection with a shin. More blows rained down at my head, but I was ready for them and took them on my arms instead, gritting my teeth against the pain.

“Stay back, sir!” I shouted as best I could when I had air. “Jäger, with me!” I took a quick step back to make some space, kicking out again. This time my aim or my luck was better and I caught a knee, setting my attacker off balance and reeling backwards to avoid falling. To my complete lack of surprise, it was one of the merchant’s haulers-cross-goons, the other temporarily stymied by Munter’s bulk between us.

I didn’t hesitate, pressing forward while the hauler stumbled and lashing out with stiff fingers. No Fechtmeister technique here. I aimed for the eyes.

His fist crashed into my chest as I connected but my ribs were a harder target than his face and he went down. I followed, clumsily turning my momentum into a tackle while we fell and I landed atop the hauler, who hit the cobbles with a heavy thud, grabbing at my arms while blinking furiously. I wished desperately for a knife, but it was on my belt and I could reach it without being caught for certain.

Instead I grabbed the man’s thick neck with both hands, thumbs under his jaw, pushing past his grip around my biceps. “Yield, or I’ll crack your head like an egg,” I snarled, pressing it down to the cobbles to make my point clear. Abruptly the pressure on my arms ceased. I waited a moment, half sure he was about to grab for my own throat, but he dropped his arms.

“Good decision,” I said. I pushed myself up off the ground, and then let my full weight drop onto my elbow to drive it into his solar plexus. Sorry, I apologised mentally as I scrambled to my feet, But I can’t trust you. And I couldn’t bring myself to make good on my threat.

I glanced under Munter’s belly as I rose, just in time to see Kaczmarek’s foot rising to her opponent’s crotch. The heavy leather boot connected at full speed and the man, despite his size, folded like a wet rag while I winced.

I had no time for pity, though. The sot was standing slack-jawed and fuming nearby. He made to turn and run as I moved toward him, but I covered the ground in only a few paces and caught him by the coat lapels, yanking back and up until he was on this tips of his toes. Furious, I shook him like a dog would shake a rat.

“Assault on an Imperial soldier in war time is a capital crime, you misbegotten wretch,” I hissed. “If it weren’t bad manners to gut a hog in another man’s court I’d be in half a mind to let the jäger kill you on the spot.”

“You’re just a masterless dog and a woman playing dress-up,” he said, voice full of spite. “You can’t do a thing to me.”

Everything went white for a moment, and then I was shaking out my fingers with aching knuckles while the drunkard sprawled on the cobbles in front of me, clutching his nose.

“Ah, Immer,” I swore. What in the world is wrong with some people? I thought, taking long strides to the inn’s door. “Goodman Braun!” I called over the heads of the patrons at their breakfasts. “We’ve been accosted by some ruffians, I’m afraid. It spites me to ask, but could I trouble your staff to see them taken care of? They’re… cooling their heads in the courtyard.”

It took a bit of cajoling and some more money changing hands, but the innkeeper was a reasonable man by comparison to previous company and with the aid of a few burly porters the merchant and his employees were hustled off down the street. I returned to the stable to a concerned prince and a baffled magus.

“Does this happen often?” The Afamacian asked, leading his chestnut out of the stable.

“Never before,” I groused through closed teeth. “Though Heavens know if it’ll keep happening now. Maybe next time I’ll just let the jäger gut them.”

The streets were busy enough in the city that we had to go at a walk, but cleared quickly as we approached the gate – no-one was leaving the city in this direction, after all, quite apart from how few were leaving in general. The guards didn’t even spare us a glance as we left, and I kicked Munter into a canter once we were out on the road. I tried to let the wind rushing past my face blow away my frustration. It didn’t really work.