“Baronet Bob the dragon, to see Baron Pratnip, if he has a moment.”

  This footman looked considerably posher than Von Kolben’s had been. A tidy blue uniform lined with gold frogwork and embroidery. Instead of a tricorne hat, he wore something that looked right out of Victorian London. A tall, stove-pipe affair, the broad brim throwing his dark eyes into further shadows.

  “A moment, please, milord.” He scurried back into his gatehouse, no doubt to ask for instructions from HQ. I stood and waited patiently, keeping a tight lid on my rampaging greed-demon. Agatha had portalled me back to the Horn, where I’d had a pint and a spot of lunch, and then made my way directly to Pratnip’s place after getting the directions from Beville.

  The house was a step up in the same way the minions' uniforms were. Five stories tall in places, with long, two-storey wings stretched out on either side. A number of smaller cottages and buildings were spread out among the palatial grounds, and many more staff, all looking shiny in a way that I found deeply pleasing, hurried about with a bounce in their steps.

  The grounds were immaculate, long stretches of flat green surrounded by decorative plants. Gardeners moved back and forth from vegetable patches that spotted the more decorative areas, carrying baskets heavy with fresh produce.

  “He has asked that I escort you to the paddock.” The footman was back without me noticing. Bloody ninja servants! The gates swung open, and he escorted me around the side of the house. A winding track led through a modest forest and let out onto an expanse of tall grass in the heart of the city.

  It was a few acres or so, left to run wild.

  “Smoke them out, Dampnik!” yelled a man in tweeds as he hefted an oversized crossbow to his shoulder and panned it across the open space. A short man wearing the livery of a servant began charging back and forth out in the grass, waving his hands around and barking like a dog.

  Something bolted, leathery wings flapping as it fought for altitude. The crossbow thwanged, and the bolt shot out to impale the monster.

  “Cracking shot, Jeremy!” said a woman in half plate armour from his side.

  “Your turn next, Penelope!” he barked. Every movement and word was machine-like. Disciplined and precise. He turned as we approached, and the footman announced me.

  “Ah, the little rebel! Penelope, this is the chap that beat your Johnson!”

  The woman looked me up and down for a moment, then strode over and offered me her hand. I shook it, feeling the hard calluses on her fingers that would normally suggest manual labour. I suspected her’s came from something other than swinging a pick or digging with a shovel.

  “Colonel-the-Lady Heartflash. So you drove out the Rompers and pounded the Sausage Makers?” She walked around me like she was inspecting an animal at market. “Woof! I can see it. Tough little lizard, aren’t you?”

  “I drove the Sausage Makers off. I didn’t even kill the hit squad from the Hunters Guild.” Establishing I wasn’t a murderous sociopath felt like the right move.

  “But you betrayed me. You rose in rebellion against your rightful lord!” snapped Pratnip as he marched over. I could see the resemblance to his son in his features, but where the boy Wilson was pig iron, brittle and fragile, this man had been forged well. I wouldn’t be surprised if, when he was cremated, there was a puddle of steel left at the end.

  “I prevented an Orlic invasion, drove off the Foreverknot forces, and accidentally made myself a Baronet.” God, that hurt to say. It came out as a low growl, predatory, and without a hint of remorse. Dragons don’t beg forgiveness of prey.

  “Woof! An Orlic invasion, you say? Piffle and poopypants! The green-shits went east and are terrorising the stunties. I’ve sent the first to monitor the border, as you requested, Jeremy. Meow!” Heartflash was clearly insane. I locked eyes with the baron and chose to pretend the psycho colonel wasn’t present.

  “I sent them there. Geeku’s warband serves me now. I didn’t want a three-way battle to destroy the Mill.”

  “But you were happy enough to refuse to swear fealty to me. I’ve seen Johnson’s reports. Only reason I admitted you is that you took a firm hand with my boy, according to him, and Johnson’s a good soldier.”

  “Your boy laid hands on my girlfriend.” This time, I didn’t put any effort into containing the growl.

  Pratnip smirked as Heartflash giggled, then he turned and yelled out to his man in the long grass.

  “Dampnik! Again!” He clicked a lever on his crossbow, and the string pulled itself back into launch position as he slotted a bolt from a quiver on his belt into a groove along the top of the weapon.

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  Dampnik once again ran back and forth, waving his arms around and doing what could easily pass for an impression of Lady Heartflash’s verbal ticks.

  Another thwang, as soon as the poor beast tried to take to the sky, and Dampnik added another creature to his belt, letting it dangle by the neck from one of the series of hoops that lined it.

  “What are you hunting?” I asked to break the awkward-feeling silence.

  “Devilrats! Vicious little fuckers! Bacawk!” replied Heartflash.

  “The city insists I keep their numbers down. Stops ‘em flooding the granaries and eating babies left by open windows! I keep this place to shoot the monsters while I’m stuck in the city. Dampnik, come back! I’m done for the day.” The servant visibly sagged with relief and began stumbling through the long grass back towards us. As he got closer, I could see that the hat he wore, another tall thing, had several holes punched through it. Some of which had come dangerously close to his skull.

  “Join us, Sir Bob.” Despite an instant revulsion at the thought of taking orders from a lower form of life, I fell into step alongside the old soldier and the young, crazy one.

  “Why have you come here, dragon?” he asked as we wended our way through the trees.

  “I wanted to ask a favour.”

  “A favour always demands one in return! I had a puppy once that wanted a cat to play with! Fortunately, I didn’t have to train him to bury the leftovers! He was very affectionate after that! Favour returned, woof!” Heartflash chimed in. Jesus H. Christ.

  “Hateskale is planning something at the ball tomorrow. I’ve been asked by certain interested parties–” I waggled my eyebrows suggestively, “–to try and intervene. But I need to know where the neutrals stand.”

  “The dock workers thing? What’s your interest in that?” he barked at me.

  “I’m planning on running more trade goods down the river. Dock fees and transport costs will matter.”

  “You’ve found valuable ores in my mountain?”

  “It’s my mountain now. Mount Bob.” Heartflash giggled and woofed quietly. I glared at her. “But yes, some mid-range metals will be becoming available in bulk, which means barges down the river to the docks.”

  “You’re outremonde, aren’t you?” Pratnip asked. I nodded, no point denying that at this point. If I’d been outed as a dragon, how much more damage would being a foreign dragon do? On second thought, I figured I should probably play that close to my chest with new people in the future. Cosmopolitan, the locals were not.

  “Ah, that explains why he’s so stupid!” Heartflash added happily, earning another glare that she simply smiled back at.

  “I want my land back. Then I’ll support your legislation.” His back was ramrod straight, and he didn’t turn to look at me as he spoke.

  “No can do. But I could bring Von Kloben to your side. Would his lands do?” Sneaky dragon!

  “Hmm. The top of Longbottom Drop would be a nice advantage. And Wrigglesworth is always a nuisance. No discipline in her troops. How will you pull that off?” he asked, finally turning gimlet eyes on me.

  “He’s in my pocket,” I lied. “As long as he stays in power, he’s happy to change his allegiance.”

  “Would you want that filthy pervert under you?” asked Heartflash. “Jeremy, I’m not so sure it’s a good fit! Moo!”

  “I can whip the kid into shape, Penny. A few months patrolling the Marches with your boys and girls, he’ll be the man his mother wanted him to be. Speaking of which, Bob.” Uh oh.

  “No way! I’m not playing nursemaid to your spoiled little shit of a son. No offence.”

  “None taken,” he replied drily. “He needs to grow. You’re recruiting, so I hear?” Who the fuck else was spying on me? I nodded reluctantly. Lockso is a good man. Formerly of the Sacred Shields, and a veteran from your world.”

  “The Sacred Shields?” I asked in confusion.

  “The Imperial bodyguard. Get my boy in with the Fighting Dolphins, bring Kolben to my side, and you’ve got a deal, dragon.”

  “You’re remarkably calm for a mammal who knows what I am.” He smirked in response.

  “I’ve faced worse. Besides, Penny here could take you apart if she wanted to.”

  “Speculator Visus,” I whispered quietly, earning a chuckle from Heartflash.

  Colonel-The-Lady Penelope Heartlash

  Crazed Strategist

  Level 118

  STR 94 AGI 56 MAG 42 ARM 567

  “You sure about that? My ARM stat is over nine thousand.”

  “Oh, it would take her some time, but she’d get there in the end.”

  “Woof!” the woman added happily to her boss's words.

  So far, every single noble I’d met in the city seemed like they ought to be on the menu. I wasn’t the rebellious type, despite Pratnip’s opinion; I hadn’t meant to declare myself a ruler.

  “I think we’ve got a deal.” I offered a hand to the man, but Heartflash licked her own hand and then shook firmly with the same saliva-coated palm. I wiped my hand on my trousers.

  “Excellent. What are your plans for the Fuderation, out of interest? Controlling one warband, however notable its leader, isn’t a strong defence on the border,” Pratnip continued in a conversational tone.

  “Maybe see about trading? They produce some interesting items, and once you get past the face slapping and bollock-kicking as a greeting, they’re actually decent people.” Heartflash glared at me, but Pratnip chuckled.

  “Ah, new meat to the grinder. You’ll learn, Baronet Bob. Ah, my man will show you back to the gates. Do please take care, and I look forward to the ball tomorrow. It seems like wheels are in motion, some of them more hidden than others.”

  The footman who had been waiting at the end of the forest track led me back to the gate as my mind churned over everything I’d said. Had I betrayed something I hadn’t meant to? I’d made out that I was a player in the game and had some leverage on a few people. I’d dropped Hateskale’s name as subtly as I could.

  Oh well. I’d have to wait until I caught up with Kolben tomorrow. It would depend on how things fell out at the ball. If the assassination went as planned, and Kolben caved to what would amount to ‘do as I say or I’ll eat you,’ I’d be able to get the hell out of this place. Then it was emptying pouches onto my hoard and swimming in more gold than I’d dared to imagine.

  Shit. If I were going to leave town tomorrow, I needed to do something first. Something viler than whatever Kolben would get up to at his pre-ball warmup orgy. Something more sinister than the glimpses of the Third Circle of Hell I’d caught when Nyal’s tentacles had writhed enough to give me a peek.

  Esme wanted that costume. As my greed-demon reared up, still enraged by my hiring Agatha, the lust monkey took it from behind. Sans lubrication.