"Beast Tsars!" The villagers were whispering it. The dozen human troops who'd come with Ivan and Liet tried not to laugh. Ivan's new tail wagged in amusement. There were legends about animal kings and queens. Ivan's ears had already caught the soldiers speculating about him and the white wolf. Actually, she'd been formal enough to make him keep his distance. Perhaps later.

Liet sat on a midnight-dark horse like Ivan's own, with her pale fur shining in the sunlight. She was busy negotiating. "Not enough horses, you say? That's not a problem." She held out one hand and made it glow. "The Dragonlord has shared his power with me. He can give you a new life of adventure -- as a horse."

Ivan looked over at her, startled. He and the troops hadn't been told about this!

Liet hopped down from her steed and strutted. "Is there anyone here who's sick, or old, or lame? I can make them young and healthy again, in my lord's name. Think of it! A chance to see the world and be part of an amazing new nation. Food, travel, affection."

The villagers were too stunned to answer at first. Then a young man pushed his way to the front of the crowd, saying, "Me! Me!" He had a look of childish glee.

A frost-bearded man walked forward. The people made way for him. "Good sirs, our people are not for sale." The villagers argued. The old headman said, "No! Would you spit on an icon of the Holy One for money? Would you sell yourself into slavery?"

Ivan saw Liet's ears flick back and her face struggle to suppress a growl. Liet said, "Let those who are willing, come forth."

The volunteer was still grinning. "Please, miss. I've always wished!" The elder tried to pull him back, but he wriggled free and bounded up to Liet, too close. "Please!"

Liet said, "You heard him. Would you deny the boy his dream?"

The elder shuddered. "The Mishavich boy there is simple. Maybe God meant him to be a horse. But no one else! You're asking men to become less than men."

"It's their choice," said Liet. "And is it really a lesser life --"

Ivan winced and tried to interrupt, but Liet went on: "To live as a horse than as a poor peasant, stuck in one little hamlet?"

The villagers grumbled, closing ranks with the elder. "Is that what you think of us?" the man said. "You oborotyen, you wolves call us subhuman. Mishavich and the sick and old might have no better choice than to go with you, but that wasn't what you were talking about. You think that an able-bodied, sane man would improve his station in life by crouching on the ground at your noble feet and letting you strap a saddle to his back!" The man stepped forward to jab a finger in Liet's direction. "Why is that? Because we're poor? Because you've read more books? Did God appoint you as our master? In fact, does our Baron even know you're here, or are you skulking around like thieving dogs?"

Ivan heard his soldiers lay hands on their swords. He nudged Liet and flicked his ears and tail to convey, "Let me handle this." He'd been a proud, poor villager once. He said aloud, "We mean no insult. I'm sorry. You are fine men and women, and we meant to offer you help and money. Why don't we just take the sick and old and that boy, the ones who'll most benefit as you said, plus any ordinary horses you want to sell?"

Liet whispered, "Quota."

"We'll make it up at the next town." He held his ears and tail at a stern angle.

Liet drooped. "All right."

Six people stepped up despite the headman's protest. Liet and Ivan led them to a camp outside town, where the soldiers had pitched a magnificent dragon-patterned tent for their wolfish officers. The volunteers included an ancient man who wept with joy at the prospect of more years of life; Ivan sympathized. There was a woman with ruined, frostbitten legs, and so on. Ivan kept an eye out for trouble, but watched Liet to see exactly what she would do.

Liet touched the villagers and smiled. Their flesh flowed. Thick hair sprouted from their skin, new muscles bulged, and they looked themselves over in wonder as they grew. The boy cried out in delight when he saw his fingers swelling and merging to give him hooves at last. The six dropped to all fours with their growing muzzles hanging low, and their eyes... Their eyes were turning black. Ivan shivered and looked away. Those soulful, dark marbles made his fur bristle.

A few minutes later, Liet was brushing them down, reassuring them. Ivan asked quietly, "Do they keep their minds?"

"Mostly. On our next trip I expect we'll ride some of them instead of our ordinary horses. Nice to have a mount that understands speech and can be trained much more."

Ivan looked toward the village his presence had touched. It was barely visible through the forest from here, and it had not changed, seemingly. Was this to be a world of wolves and horses? Even the greatest of the new recruits would live in a stable and be ridden.

#

Another village, years ago. His mercenary band rode in, desperate for food, smelling of blood. The townsfolk said they had nothing to eat, but they were rabbits. The warriors tore into them, biting necks, eating them...

Ivan woke up yelping. He found bits of flesh stuck to his claws -- no, only a shredded blanket. He sat up, covering his inhuman face with his hands, and panted.

"What is it?" said Liet. Her eyes shined in the dark.

Ivan tried to shake the ghostly scent of fire from his mind. "Nightmare. With too much truth in it." He spoke to fill the silence. "My band was hunting a group of Kazakh marauders. We got careless and ran out of food and water. There was a village where we started making demands, first out of desperation, then for fun... God knows I did terrible things as a man. What will I do as a wolf?"

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"You'll make up for it," Liet said.

"I've been doing that ever since. I don't want to burn any more towns. What will happen when a village says no to Petrov?"

Liet sat up and put her hand on him. "We'll make the best of the situation, then. Make sure that the people understand what we need, and how they'll benefit. It won't have to turn ugly."

"I have a new life. I want to use this one well." His breath had slowed, and he could focus on the comforting smells of the safe tent, his belongings, his fellow wolf...

"We're building a better world," she said. "We ought to enjoy it."

Ivan's ears perked curiously as he tried to judge Liet's expression. He was surprised by what he saw in her, and by her warm scent. Liet let Ivan tug her closer, onto his lap, and she wrapped her arms around him.

#

Later, only Ivan was awake. He dressed and crept out of the tent. No lingering nightmares, now. It was the grey hour before dawn. He saw the horses, old and new, staked so they wouldn't run off. Was that really necessary, for the new ones? "Policy," one of the soldiers had said. Ivan looked around the camp, and noticed that their sentry was asleep like everyone else.

He was about to kick the man, but he heard leaves rustle. Ivan crouched and listened, then crept toward the noise. Just a wizened peasant woman, peeking at his camp from the forest around it.

She spotted him, somehow, and called out. "Your lordship! Oh, my. The stories of wolves in the forest are true."

Ivan stood, relaxing a little. She smelled of turnips and there was no sign of anyone else. "What are you doing out here, babushka?"

The woman leaned closer to peer at him, more curious than afraid. "I suspect your travels will take you to a town called Bolshoy. Its people won't do as you ask. Please, spare them."

"How did you find us?" said Ivan.

"I hear tales, good and bad. You Black Riders are becoming a legend. What sort of legend, I don't yet know."

Ivan circled her and frowned. How had this woman learned he would come here? He sniffed the air and noticed that the rich, earthy scent on her was only on the spot where she stood. She'd left no trail, or even tracks.

He darted closer and seized her arm, snarling. "You're deceiving me. Explain yourself or I'll fetch my men!"

The woman gave him a long, sad look... And then she glowed. Ivan hopped away from her. The crone stood straighter and became a tall figure with scales like snow, a long tail, and a dragon's muzzle.

Ivan fell to one knee. "Lady Alexi? I'm sorry!"

She smiled. "My brother would be proud of your skills, Sir Ivan. But I really am here to ask for mercy for Bolshoy. Put any blame on me." Her scent had shifted to something otherworldly and cold. "I travel the world in the Dragonlord's name, trying to temper his demands with kindness and justice. I don't think the town ahead will sell you horses. The people are too proud."

Ivan looked up at the dragon-woman, feeling a knot of worry begin to unravel in his gut. "But I'm under his orders."

"I'll make him understand." Alexi sighed. "The Opritchnina might become a wonderful country someday, but Petrov is headstrong. He takes what he wants, because he knows he's using it for a good cause."

Ivan stared at the dragoness. Even now, everyone else lay asleep. Bewitched? His gaze drifted to the swell of Alexi's belly. He remembered that Petrov's sorcery didn't seem to allow for making more dragons by magic, not yet. "If I may ask, my lady -- who is the father?"

Alexi looked down. "The Opritchnina needed more dragons, to increase its might, and the miracle that changed us made only two. I never agreed, of course. But in hindsight it was necessary. For the good of the country."

Ivan leaned down with both hands on the dirt, stifling the urge to retch. "You want to temper that with mercy and kindness?"

"He just wants what's best for all of us. Until he can make more dragons the way he does with wolves and horses, it's my duty." She seemed to be speaking to herself. "It's not right for me to complain. I have a good life."

Ivan shuddered and steadied his stomach. He looked up at her slitted eyes, averted from him. "The Devil never lacks defenders."

Alexi stepped away from him and bowed, as one might do when leaving a king's presence. She faded into the dark woods. Ivan looked up and saw a white dragon that seemed to tarnish the rosy sky. One who could have been queen of another, better country. Ivan's mission made more sense to him, now. People were raw materials for Petrov's dreams. He'd been sent to give men the dubious gift of becoming beasts, by a man who found it practical and right to rape his sister.

#

The others stirred soon after Alexi was gone. The sentry stank of fear when he saw Ivan. Ivan whispered to him, "Sleeping on duty? You're forgiven, this time." It wouldn't do to tell him sorcery was at fault.

Ivan's steps carried him back to Liet in their tent. She saw his expression, so he told her everything. When he was done, he was standing stiffly and she was crouching, claws on a pillow.

Ivan said, "We need to make this next village see, if we can. I'm not going to burn it." Maybe everything would be fine. His tail wagged for a moment.

As for the news of Petrov and Alexi, she had already suspected. "We can't undo that. But we can do good work with the power he's given us."