Ash lay on his side, barely awake as he gazed upon the majesty of the Sibiric mountain range before him. The powder-soft snow settled on the peaks in the morning light, moving ever so gently as a warm breeze passed down his side. That was a pleasant surprise. In his books, the snow was cold and unyielding, but since he’d started his journey he’d never felt anything so soft and warm. He pressed his face deeper into the snowbank, breathing in the almost spicy aroma before letting out a contented sigh. In the distance, beyond the mountains a thick plume of snow raised, flicking lazily back and forth. It looked like . . actually, as he woke and his wits returned, it almost looked like a tail.

“Good morning, Master.”

Air seized in Ash's lungs as Khukri’s silky voice slithered from above, rumbling the surface he’d pressed into. He spasmed, forehead bumping against the cool band of metal around Khukri’s throat. His antlers caught on something, restraining his head as her arm tightened across his chest.

Her muscled frame squirmed under him with a whimper. “Please be careful, I’m still sore...”

Ash froze, body tensing as he frantically took in his surroundings. One eye was too buried in bushy fur to see, the other caught sight of Khukri’s head, tilted so her muzzle lay between his antlers. Her chest lowered slightly, and warm breath flowed down his cheek, rustling through his fur before rolling over his shirt and dissipating. Her less damaged arm relaxed over his shoulder, resting her hand against his stomach. To some small relief, Khukri still wore her clawguard, leaving a layer of leather between her whims and his disemboweled corpse.

They curled together on Khukri's bedroll, cushioned by the mattress of straw he’d harvested from his makeshift garden the day before. With her naked body pressed against him in the morning light, Ash suddenly became very thankful he was still clothed. His arm lay pinned beneath her, preventing his escape, while the other absently caressed her bandaged stomach just above her... her... He squeezed his eyes shut, shuffling back so she wouldn’t notice his arousal and terror in her clutches.

Khukri breathed in sharply, pulling away and leaving him curled in submission, awaiting death, from her, or his own embarrassment, whichever came first. “Master!” Surprisingly, her tone wasn’t angry, but concerned. “What’s wrong? Did you have another nightmare?”

The rough cotton bandage around her hand caressed Ash's forehead, finally drawing him to look. Khukri knelt beside the makeshift bed, eyes filled with worry. Her clawguard pressed into his palm as their fingers threaded together with a reassuring squeeze. “Wh...” His breath ran short, cutting his sentence off and forcing him to breathe before trying again. “What am I doing in your bed?”

Her head tilted slightly. “You don’t remember? You said you’d keep me company?”

“I did?” Ash's mind spun. Between hunting, harvesting, cooking, and dealing with the warehouse staff, he’d been too exhausted to remember going to bed. However, climbing into one with a girl sure as hell didn’t sound like something he’d do.

“Y-yes.” Khukri withdrew, folding her ears like she’d done something wrong. “I told you it was hard to sleep without my pack, but you said I needed rest to heal and you’d help... I’m sorry Master.”

His heart sank. He’d torn the poor girl away from her life and thrown her at a literal monster, then when she needed a hug he made it about his dick. That? That totally sounded like him. “No, no Khukri, it’s okay, I just forgot, that’s all.” He attempted to still his trembling nerves as he sat and offered her a smile. “Did it help?”

She nodded, ears perking up. “It did, thank you.”

Now that he thought about it, last night was the first time in a while he hadn’t woken up from a nightmare. Surprising, given the horrific sight of a velkammer, followed shortly by his first time stitching anything other than an aibax caught on a sliver of wood.

“Good, good.” Ash stood, stretching stiff muscles as he realized he’d overslept. The night’s biting chill had long since vanished with the early sunlight, unnoticed while he siphoned the boundless warmth from his white wolf. Ash added that to the growing list of failures he needed to make up for. “Via won’t move against me in the outpost, at least not during hunting season, so I’ll proceed with the next step of the plan. You stay here and recover.”

He moved to the pile of clothes he’d previously used as bedding, searching for something respectable to replace his blood-caked hunting attire when Khukri approached. “Master? I’m feeling better than yesterday, if I could have permission to leave, I’d like to search for my missing cloak and something to fashion into a spear for our next hunt.”

“Next hunt?” Ash respected her passion, but no one should have been this eager to die. This had to be part of the dynamic she’d requested, ‘her purpose,’ and that meant it was time to play his part. He turned on her, staring down the naked figure of power built from fur and muscle capable of bringing down a beast worthy of Sturm himself. As the sun’s soft glow raced along her lithe form, he had to remind himself she was only an animal, not a statue of a legend cut from marble. “Until you’re healed, there won’t be a next hunt. I don’t want you running around The Direwood, putting yourself in danger.”

“Yes, Master.” When met with resistance, Khukri bowed meekly. “Is there something smaller I could do, or am I really of no use as I am?”

Ash hesitated. In the plans he’d laid out, he’d only intended for his hunter to hunt, which made sense when his future slave was a concept on paper. It was harder to justify now. Slave or not, if someone pulled him into a situation where his life depended on their success, he wouldn’t be in much of a mood to sit around all day while they handled things. Truthfully, Khukri’d outperformed to such a ridiculous degree that he had needed to rush the timetable. He sighed, selecting a few pieces of clothing. “Healing from your injuries is our top priority... but. If you don’t feel like hanging around here then there is something you could take care of, so long as you promise not to push yourself.”

Khukri stood straighter, smile returning. “I promise.”

Boundless energy was the one gift from Deianira that girls of the deer and dog variety shared... wolves too, apparently. Strange that, so far from home, he found himself envious of the same gift. “Alright. Put these on.”

Khukri took the bundle of clothes like she was worried they’d bite, opening her mouth in protest before thinking better of it and slipping them on. Ash chose the nicest clothes he had and set them aside for after she’d left. Until there was a good reason, the symbol on his back remained secret.

The tent flap shifted aside easily, releasing Ash to the last vestiges of the morning mist, swirling away as rising heat pulled water from the earth. Khukri trailed behind, shifting nervously as they approached the exit. “Are you sure you don’t want me in my armour? Owner’s clothes are so fragile...”

“If you’re doing anything that requires armour, you’re working too hard.” Ash gave her a pointed look. “Besides, I didn’t earn any of this stuff. Most of the money’s stolen from my sisters and the tools...” Ash snapped his mouth shut so hard his teeth clicked. Great, now she knew he had sisters, another bit of information to put his family in danger.

Khukri stopped at the exit, turning expectant eyes his way.

“I had a good reason,” Ash explained. Thieving from his family was hardly the start of the epic tale he’d hoped for, but he’d pay them back, somehow. It was a vicious cycle. He couldn’t become a knight if he died, and he couldn’t survive by acting like a knight. For now, the best he could do was remember everyone he'd screwed over, and find a way to repay them once he became a hero.

“My orders, Master?”

Oh, right. Khukri saw herself as some sort of beast, and aibax never asked whether their meal was fairly purchased, or brutally murdered with farming equipment. “Of course, sorry. I need you to scout for a location in the other districts. A building: as close as you can get to a wall of the flooded districts. It needs sunlight, but I don’t want anyone passing by to know what I’m doing. I’ll also need a nearby building for a warehouse, preferably with a path between the two points that can handle our cart.”

She nodded. “Understood. What should I do after I find it?”

Understood? Really? After he’d expressly told her she could ask questions, he’d expected a bit more pushback on seemingly random orders. Apparently telling her to put on pants garnered more pushback than searching for farmland in a place nothing would grow. “If you have any time left, try to clear debris from the first location so we can see the ground... Oh, and don’t get that bandage wet.”

A flicker of sadness passed through Khukri’s expression on that last bit, though she didn’t give it voice. “Yes, Master.” She bowed, then disappeared through the exit, leaving Ash to dress and prepare for his second meeting with Issac.

* * *

The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.

This time, when Ash stepped through The Lodge’s doors into the spacious expanse surrounded by colourful tapestries, the patrons turned his way. Either his trip with Issac hadn’t gone unnoticed, or word of his velkammer hunt had spread beyond the warehouse’s service staff. He met their curious gazes with a friendly smile, then strode past to the dog behind the counter distributing sizzling plates to workers flitting between tables.

“A moment of your time, sir.”

The man reacted much the same as the worker last time, eyes sweeping over Ash’s clothing before offering a polite smile. “Can I get you something?”

“I was wondering if Issac was here,” Ash said. “He’s a dog, white spotted with black, very manly, with pink-”

“Third floor,” the worker said, gesturing towards the stairs. “And try not to make a mess.”

Strange, Ash’d worn clean clothing for his meeting and went so far as to polish his boots. Perhaps he smelled? Ash cursed himself for not having Khukri check if he’d removed the lingering stink of velkammer blood. Still, it was too late to break character, so Ash only gave parting thanks before ascending the stairs.

Ash found Issac at the same spot, sipping from a wine glass in his long black and silver coat. The dog laughed at something his guest said, leaning back and crossing a leg over his knee. His guest was a dog with well-groomed black fur, ears that stood straight, and a forthright smile, though he lacked his host’s effortless elegance. He wore a simple navy cloak with the syndicate’s symbol, bulging with layers of muscle even the heaviest dockworkers never built. Whatever profession this man had the misfortune of choosing must’ve worked him to the bone.

Ash strode closer, passing rows of fearsome dog-women glaring at him with hands tightened around spears. Without Cliona’s guards, the room was far less oppressive, though the pleasant mood at the table still died on his approach. “Issac! I’m glad you’re here, I wanted to have a word. I hope I’m not interrupting anything.”

Issac uncrossed his legs, giving Ash a sour look and a sigh. “Well...” He gestured across the table to his guest.

“Oh, of course, I’m sorry.” Ash turned to the stranger and offered a hand. “My name’s Ruari. I only met Issac the other day, but he was an absolute gentleman. How do the two of you know each other?”

The stranger stared, looking from Ash to Issac with his mouth slightly open.

“He’s an acquaintance from work.” Issac pursed his lips and set his drink down with a harsh click. “Not that it’s any of your business.”

“I’m sorry?” Ash withdrew his hand, turning his attention to Issac. “I thought The Lodge was a public meeting place. If this is a private meeting, I can come back.”

With a dramatic sigh, Issac set his chair on the ground, folding his arms across his chest. “Honey, perhaps I’ve given you the wrong impression about us. We’re not friends, I’m not buying the royal act, and I don’t know you. I did my job as a company representative and showed you where to buy things. If you want something, go to them.”

Ash widened his eyes, feigning shock as he looked between Issac and his associate. This time, when he felt the hand of Issac’s guard on his shoulder he didn’t resist. “I know we’re not friends. You did me a favour and where I come from it’s polite to take five minutes to express your gratitude. Clearly, I mistook your professionalism for manners. An honest mistake, I assure you.” Ash turned, letting the guard guide him halfway to the stairs before he withdrew the warehouse ticket from his pocket and passed it to the guard. “Please see to it your master gets this, with my thanks.”

When Ash’s foot met the first stair, Issac let out a frustrated grunt. “Wait.”

For a moment, Ash hesitated, pretending to decide if he was too insulted to return, then reluctantly stepped back onto the third level. His father taught him walking away from a meeting was always a risky move, one that proclaimed you needed them far less than they needed you, so only an idiot would try it when the other side obviously held all the cards. So Ash, fittingly, rolled the dice that Issac, with all his showy elegance, couldn’t handle someone so beneath him holding the high ground in decorum.

Issac studied him, the bright pink streaks running away from his eye giving the illusion of intensity. “You’re not here because there’s something I can do for you?”

Ash folded his arms, mask unflinching as he returned the stare. “You’re a powerful man. I doubt there’s anybody here you couldn’t do something for. But specifically? You could apologize.”

The muscled man across the table, having forgotten how to breathe, stared at the exchange like Ash had just challenged a velkammer to a fistfight.

A dejected breath escaped Issac. “Perhaps that’s warranted. Bart, would you mind fetching us another bottle of wine? I’d like a few minutes with my guest.” The other man muttered his response and stood, only too happy to flee past Ash to the lower levels. With his companion gone, Issac rose, locking eyes with Ash. “Well? Come closer, I’m not about to yell my apology across the room.”

Ash unfolded his arms, smoothing his clothes and maintaining eye contact as he approached. When Ash was a step away, Issac draped an arm across his stomach and bowed like a proper courtier. “I apologize for my earlier rudeness. I have precious little time here, and so many seeking favours, I forgot myself.” With that done, he rose and collected himself. “Will that do?”

“Of course,” Ash said. “I didn’t mean to interrupt your meeting, allow me to give my thanks and I won’t trouble you further.”

Issac returned to his chair, gesturing to Bart’s seat.

“I wanted to thank you, for helping me get set up, obviously, but specifically for the hunter you recommended.” Ash dropped into the empty chair. “She’s unlike anything I’ve ever seen. I know this early in the season beasts are plentiful and closer to the outpost, but she managed to sniff out a velkammer on our first hunt!”

Issac grinned, lifting his glass. “Mother’s company produces only the finest. Choosing the premium option might have saved your life. Had you hunted with cheaper girls, you might not have detected the beast in time to avoid it.”

“Avoid it?” Ash chuckled. “We didn’t go hunting to avoid beasts. We ran the thing down. The girls back home don’t know what they’re missing; it’s exhilarating!”

A mouthful of wine disappeared as Issac rolled his eyes. “Unbelievable. You’re one of those people who just can’t stop lying aren’t you? What do you get out of it?”

“Here.” Ash looked to the guard with his warehouse ticket and gestured to Issac. “I know it’s not much, but I wanted to give you a token of my thanks.”

Curiosity sparked in Issac’s eyes as he set the glass down and accepted the ticket before waving the girl away. “What’s this?”

“Four thousand five hundred kilos of meat. I put a few of the chitin plates on the market to pay for harvesting, sausage processing, and warehouse storage fees. I don’t have a use for that much meat, but I figure your mother’s company has all those slaves to feed, so you’ll make good use of it.”

The paper turned over in Issac’s hand as he read the description, then he leaned in, inspecting the ticket. “Bullshit... I sold you one girl, two days ago. You can’t bring down a velkammer with that.”

“After seeing one of those things up close? I’d have thought so too. That’s why I’m so thankful.”

Issac slid the ticket across the table. “The going rate for pure velkammer sausage is between sixteen and twenty florins per kilo on the exchange. Your ‘gift’ is worth more than seventy thousand florins, and selling on the exchange would boost your slave’s resale value. No hunter is giving up that kind of money.”

“I’m no hunter,” Ash said. “I came for business; hunting is just something I can’t do back home. As for money, I, uh, don’t know how much that is. The palace assigns me a treasurer to handle that.” This time, Ash didn’t have to feign ignorance, since, despite his father’s best efforts, math was something Ash could never wrap his head around. He knew Lenn charged eight hundred florins to get him a book, and he had ninety-three books so his collection was worth... uh... well eight hundred was close to a thousand, so the books were worth close to ninety-three thousand florins. How much could the meat be worth if it cost less than a farmboy’s books? Right?

The dog’s mouth hung open as he momentarily closed his eyes and dramatically held a hand to his forehead. “You don’t... What kind of business can you do if you don’t know the value of a florin?”

“Shipping,” Ash said, seizing on the opportunity to push his trap. “I’m representing a union that wants to supply the Direwood Syndicate with goods from the islands I govern using my personal fleet, with rates set by my treasurer. And before you think I’m asking, no, I don’t need your help with that.”

Issac’s eyes swept over Ash, taking in his clothing, posture, and the warehouse ticket. His open-mouthed stare twisted into a wild grin as he smacked his hands together in loud methodical claps. “Oh, you’re good. You’re really good. Back home I deal with liars and shills all the time, but you still had me. Just for a moment, but you got me. It’s the unwavering determination, isn’t it? That intense commitment to the bit: commoner clothes while dropping tens of thousands of florins at my feet, getting me to question the validity of my own thoughts. Right?”

“You think this is a con?” Ash chuckled, maintaining the mask, even as it felt like glass. “A con to... what? Take your money? How?” Ash looked to the stairs, catching sight of Bart returning with a bottle.

“I don’t know,” Issac said, shaking his head. “But you want this to look like a bribe. Something to make it seem like I’ve got divided loyalties, make people suspicious.”

With a resigned sigh, Ash pushed the ticket back to Issac’s side. “Fine, let’s make it a trade then. I’ve got two weeks before my first shipment arrives with nothing to do, and I’m fascinated by the effectiveness of your slaves. Would you let me perform medical exams on your girls, so my reports home about the quality of merchandise can be more accurate?”

Issac looked incredulously at his guards, spotting Bart and waving him over. “You want me to let you play doctor with my slaves?”

Ash pushed his chair back and moved aside for the muscular man. ”I’d like to inspect your products out of professional curiosity. Keep them together, let someone supervise me to make sure I’m not tampering with them or whatever. We’ll call it an even trade for 4,500 kilos of meat.”

“I don’t suppose you’d have a problem with me putting that on the books?” Issac gently lifted the ticket. “Write up a contract? Show how loyal I am? Make a record that I’m selflessly benefiting the company?”

“It's your gift, Issac. Do whatever makes you happy.”

The ticket disappeared into one of Issac’s pockets before he waved Ash away. “Thanks for the gift, conman. Talk to the same woman who sold you the last one tomorrow. I’ll leave the contract with her.” He pushed his glass across the table, gaze rising from Ash to his guards. “And if you ever approach me again, I kill you on sight.”