“I have job to do,” Natasha said expansively as she tossed off the mug of vodka. She made a face but forebore to comment on the quality as she splashed some more of the fiery liquor into her cup. Natasha was familiar with the machinations of merchants, albeit on a much smaller scale than in the Empire. She had sat in her fathers hall while he haggled with the caravan masters who traded steel and cloth for horses and yak hides often enough to dislike the breed. Kislivite’s prided themselves on being hard bargainers, it was something of a sport, but haggling over a few pelts either side of what everyone knew was going to be the price did not interest Natasha.

 

“My father is also..how ye sai..arshaul… but not so much,” she admitted. Marius had clearly grown up in the business world his family operated in. Just as clearly he wanted to strike out on his own, the calluses on his palms suggested that he had trained with the fancy sword that he carried. It was an endearing trait, and she supposed she couldn’t fault him for being caught when he was outnumbered six to one.

 

“He seyends me to Vulfenbarg, to reqwest gahnpiwder,” she explained.

 

“Gahnpiw… gunpowder?” Marius translated. Pausing as a blonde serving maid set a bowl of stew before each of them along with a crust of bread. Marius seemed to stiffen as she approached and then relaxed.

 

“You no lyk garl?” Natasha asked, gesturing at the departing maid with her crust of bread. She dipped it into her stew and took a bite. It was salty and a little on the oily side but the onion gravy was thick and piquent.

 

“Wha…” Marius began, “ah yes, I mean, no, I mean…”

 

“I do nat knaw vat you mean,” Natasha admitted around a mouthful of bread. She swallowed and took a smaller pull of vodka.

 

“I like girls, just she reminds me of someone in Altdorf is all. You were talking about gun powder?” he said, redirecting the conversations.

 

“Dah, gahnpiwder. My father, he send me to aysk for more piwider for za forts. Ve fit them out vith Imperial caynon, from Nuln. But many raiders this sayson, need more piwder to keep them in action,” she explained. Traditionally Kislivites had fought as horse archers, indeed some still refused to adopt the newer Imperial technologies, but the steppe was not a place where you could afford to be impractical. Natasha like many others had learned to fire a handgun from the saddle as well as use a bow. A bestigor could still charge with a half dozen arrows through it, but a single heavy caliber musket ball would shatter bone and organs both. The advantage was doubled in the fortified holds of the north, where grapeshot could sweep the walls clear better than thirty trained archers could.

 

“Ve have, what you say, fyktor in the ceety, he make arrangements for uas,” she explained.

“Fictor?” Marius asked, then he brightened as he realised what she was saying.

 

“Factor, you have a factor in the city who will arrange for shipments of gunpowder,” he summarized.

 

“Da, vat I say,” Natasha confirmed. She reached into her gamberson and withdrew a piece of folded parchment and showed it to Marius.

 

[u]Grunwald and Sons

Outfitters

Ulricstrasse - Wolfenburg[/u]

 

“Grunwald and Sons?” Marius asked, his expression troubled. Natasha was mildly surprised he could read, though she shouldn’t have been given he was form a merchant family and anyway many in the Empire could read.

 

“Da, vat I say,” she repeated, “is problem?”