The Ranger of Marzanna (The Goddess War #1) - Jon Skovron Page 0,125
pressed her lips to his so intensely he’d nearly swooned.
Rykov cleared his throat. “Ready, sir?”
Sebastian guiltily pulled himself out of fond remembrance and scrutinized the house. No sounds or movement came from within, so he nodded. Rykov lifted a lantern and quickly opened and closed the shutters twice to signal the men of the 404th.
The inner ring of soldiers crashed through the doors and windows of the house, while the outer ring drew their sabers and held their positions. It was only a few moments before two of Sebastian’s men came out of the house, half dragging a scrawny old man through the snow.
“Doesn’t look like a group of dangerous dissidents to me,” said Rykov.
“Damn,” said Sebastian, then spurred his horse forward to meet them.
“Sir!” The two men threw their captive to the ground and saluted sharply as he drew near.
“I take it this was the sole inhabitant?” Sebastian asked them.
“Yes, sir!” said one of his men.
“Wonderful,” muttered Sebastian. “Get him on his feet.”
His men hauled the old man up.
“What’s your name, old timer?”
“N-Nikolai, my lord!”
Sebastian sighed wearily. “I’m not a lord, I’m a captain.”
“B-begging your pardon, Captain!”
“Why are you in this house?”
“I-I’m sorry, Captain! I swear, it won’t happen again!”
“What won’t happen again?”
“I know I have no right to sleep in a place that weren’t mine, only it’s terrible cold tonight and I thought, since there was nobody in there, it wouldn’t harm nothing. Door wasn’t even locked.”
“I see.” He looked at his men. “Any sign of anyone else?”
They shook their heads.
Sebastian pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed again.
“Here and there, huh?” said Rykov.
This time, Sebastian did not reply.
50
Captain Guido Pavase was quite certain that God was punishing him for the sins of his youth. First, by sending him to the brutal, backward territory of Izmoroz, where the winters were nearly as frigid as the women. In Gogoleth, he’d suffered under the command of the notoriously zealous Franko Vittorio, who acted as if his post were some great honor, rather than the punishment everyone in Aureum knew it to be after his embarrassingly public display of indiscretion regarding the empress.
To make matters worse, Guido and his men had now been stationed in a filthy, frozen mudhole called Zapad that was within spitting distance of the lifeless void known as the Great Western Tundra. There was no tavern in Zapad, and no women worth fucking. Guido’s assignment was to keep the peace, which was laughable because he had seen Aureumian convents more unruly than Zapad. He was also supposed to look for possible sedition, which was even more ridiculous. The inbred hicks of Zapad could barely schedule their planting and harvesting seasons. The idea of them organizing some sort of rebellion was absurd.
Still, orders were orders, even if they came from the disgraced ex-Count Vittorio. So Guido sat behind an unvarnished desk in the repurposed ramshackle home that served as their station house, and interviewed every damn potato-brained peasant in the place.
“Name?” He didn’t bother looking at the old man, and instead stared down at the blank parchment that would soon be filled with trivial information about another useless person.
“Gennady Shukhov Zworykin, sir.”
“Occupation?”
“Fur trader.”
“You’re the one who takes the surplus furs to Gogoleth?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Heard you had a larger haul than previous years.”
“The Lady does provide.”
Guido looked up from the parchment. “The Lady?”
Gennady flinched. “Begging your pardon, sir. Lady Zivena. She… well, you’d call her a goddess I suppose.”
“I see…”
The peasant sank back farther into his chair. “Ain’t no crime to keep the old ways.”
“No, I suppose it isn’t.” It was, however, cause for suspicion. Could there really be a seditious element in this little mudhole? If he were to find a rebellion stronghold and bring it down swiftly, perhaps he could finally get Vittorio to promote him to colonel. “Are you married, Mr. Zworykin?”
Gennady shook his head.
“Who was that woman I saw you walking with yesterday, then?”
“Oh, that’s my cousin, Mathilde.”
“I don’t recall seeing her before.”
“She’s just visiting, sir.”
“From?”
“Gogoleth.”
“For what purpose?”
“Purpose? Uh, just to visit, I suppose.”
“Halfway across Izmoroz? Long voyage just for a visit. Expensive, too.”
Guido watched the man tense up.
“I—I suppose it is, sir.”
Guido let him squirm for a moment, then smiled. “Well, that’s the love of family. Blood is thicker than anything, right?”
Gennady looked relieved. “Y-yes, sir.”
“Thank you, Mr. Zworykin. That will be all.”
“Anything else you need, be sure to let me know.” Gennady stood and put his fur cap on. “Still have some furs in stock if you and your men start feeling the