The knock came before dawn.
Not a fist—the pommel of a weapon.
Three heavy blows, each separated by a short pause. The kind of knock made by people certain the door would be opened.
Kain woke at once.
The house was dark. The last coals in the hearth barely glowed beneath the ash, and only a thin strip of moonlight came through the shutters. Behind the curtain beside him, Mia stirred.
The knocking came again.
"Hyr meg," Marta said quietly. "Listen to me first."
She was already sitting up on her pallet and pulling a woolen shawl over her nightdress.
Kain lowered his feet onto the cold floor.
"Who comes to collect debts in the middle of the night?"
"It's almost morning."
"The sun disagrees with you."
A man's voice sounded beyond the door:
"In the name of the King of Valskar and by order of the Landman of Oksen! Open the door for lawful collection!"
Mia propped herself up on one elbow.
"Mama?"
"It's all right, blod min."
Marta spoke the northern endearment with the faint Osmantian accent that years in Valskar had never erased.
She went to the hearth, blew the coals back to life, and lit a taper.
Kain was already pulling on his trousers.
"I'll open it."
"No."
"They woke the whole house."
"Which is precisely why I will open it."
Marta set the taper in an iron holder and looked at her son.
"You will stand beside me and keep quiet."
"I know how to talk."
"Yesterday you told Halvar his new horseshoe looked like a bent bowl."
"It did."
"Quiet, Kain."
The door shook under another blow.
"Final warning!"
Marta drew back the bolt.
The cold entered the house before the men did.
Four of them stood on the porch.
Kaspar Veld, the tax collector, stood at the front. He was tall and thin, dressed in a long dark coat fastened to the throat. Beneath one arm, he carried a leather folio wrapped in oiled cloth to protect it from the damp.
Beside him stood a short man with scales and a bundle of tags at his belt. The assessor.
Two garrison guards waited behind them with short spears and swords. Drops of melted snow glistened on their woolen cloaks.
Kaspar spoke in flawless Avaren—slowly and formally, as though he were addressing a court chamber rather than a woman in a poor home.
"Marta Alseif?"
"Yes."
"Head of this household and lawful representative of the Alseif property?"
"Yes."
"I am here to collect arrears from the most recent tax period, together with the associated fees and expenses."
"I know why you are here. Come inside before you freeze the house."
Kaspar crossed the threshold.
The guards followed him. The assessor paused at the door, wiped his boots on a board, and only then entered, as if mud were the one thing capable of offending his dignity.
Kain closed the door behind them.
Kaspar noticed him but said nothing.
Marta indicated the table.
"Show me the calculation."
"First, I must verify that the household property matches the register."
"First, you will show me the amount you intend to collect."
Kaspar studied her for several moments.
Then he removed his gloves, unwrapped the oiled cloth, and placed a thick leather-bound ledger on the table.
The seal of the Royal Treasury of Valskar was embossed on its cover, with the smaller mark of the local administration beneath it.
Kaspar opened the ledger.
The pages were filled with neat lines of Avaren.
"Alseif household, North Street, plot twelve. Arrears for the grain tithe, road levy, royal defense levy, and maintenance of the local garrison. Total amount: eight silver and nineteen copper coins."
Marta's expression did not change.
"No."
The assessor gave a snort.
Kaspar looked up.
"What, exactly, does 'no' mean?"
"It means the amount is wrong."
"The entry bears the seal of the landman's office."
"An error does not cease to be an error because someone placed a seal on it."
Kain saw one guard glance at the other.
Marta drew the ledger closer to the light.
Kaspar placed his palm on the page.
"A state register is not handed to a debtor."
"Then read it line by line."
"I have already announced the total."
"The total is wrong. Read it."
Irritation entered his eyes, but his voice remained even.
"Grain tithe: three silver and four copper."
"That is the amount before the winter reduction."
"The reduction does not apply to overdue payments."
"It does if the failed harvest was formally recognized before the end of the tax period. The Thing issued its ruling six days before the deadline."
Kaspar turned through several pages in the folio.
"Road levy: one silver and eight copper."
"We paid it in labor. Kain spent three weeks rebuilding the northern road after the flood."
"The entry records twelve days."
"Because the clerk entered only the first work roll. The second was submitted to the garrison."
Kain could not stop himself:
"Captain Arnwald saw us hauling the stones."
Marta did not even turn toward him.
"Nok."
One word was enough.
Kain clenched his teeth and fell silent.
Kaspar continued:
"Defense levy: two silver."
"One and a half. The full levy applies only to households with two adult men."
"Your son has reached the age of sixteen."
"But he has not yet been entered on the adult militia rolls."
Kaspar looked at Kain.
"Old enough to interrupt an officer of the Crown."
"Not old enough to be taxed," Marta replied.
She said it so calmly that one of the guards turned away to hide a smile.
Marta took a small wooden box from the shelf. It held folded sheets, several receipts, and a piece of charcoal for calculations.
She placed an old board on the table and quickly wrote out the figures.
"Three silver and four copper becomes two silver and seven copper after the reduction. The road levy was paid in labor. The defense levy is one silver and ten copper. The garrison levy is one silver and fourteen copper. By law, collection expenses are twelve copper, not one silver."
She drew a line.
"Five silver and seven copper. That is what we owe."
Kaspar checked the calculation in silence.
Kain watched his face, hoping to see at least a trace of embarrassment.
He saw none.
The collector searched through several papers, found the relevant roll, and paused over it.
"The road work was indeed entered on a second record."
"Then I am right."
"On that point."
"On the others as well."
"The failed-harvest reduction requires separate confirmation."
"The seal of the Thing is on the back of the ruling."
Kaspar held the sheet up to the light.
The assessor shifted from one foot to the other.
Liska bleated beyond the wall.
Mia emerged from behind the curtain and went to her mother. She wore a long shift and thick socks, one of which had slipped down to her heel.
Kaspar finished checking the documents.
"Five silver and seven copper."
Kain smirked.
"So the state ledger was wrong."
"No," Kaspar replied. "The clerk who completed one of the records was wrong."
"Does the ledger fill itself in?"
Marta shot her son a sharp look.
"Kain."
"What? He tried to take three extra silver from us."
Kaspar closed the folio.
"I sought to collect the amount entered in the official record. Once supporting documents were provided, the amount was corrected."
"How convenient."
"The law is not required to be convenient."
"Is it required to be honest?"
Kaspar studied him more closely.
"The law is required to be enforced."
Marta opened a second box hidden beneath a sack of flour.
She took out several coins and arranged them on the table.
Two silver.
Eleven copper.
Kain knew that money.
It was the payment for three months of sewing, mending, and writing letters for people who could not write for themselves. Money Marta had set aside for flour, salt, and new boots for Mia.
Kaspar counted the coins.
"Two silver and eleven copper."
"There is no more."
"The outstanding balance is two silver and sixteen copper."
"I will pay in the spring."
"The deadline has passed."
"People have little produce left after winter and fewer coins."
"I am aware."
"Then grant us an extension."
"The landman has approved no new extensions."
"Because he needs to cover his own shortfall before the jarl arrives?"
The room went utterly still.
One of the guards lowered his gaze.
Kaspar slowly put his gloves back on.
"I do not discuss the landman's decisions."
"Of course. You only come to collect their consequences."
He turned to the assessor.
"Inventory movable property sufficient to cover the balance and the costs of seizure."
Mia pressed closer to her mother.
The assessor took a charcoal pencil and a stack of tags from his bag.
"We'll begin with whatever is easiest to carry."
Kain stepped forward.
Marta placed a hand against his chest.
"Stann."
He stopped.
The assessor surveyed the house.
Seeing familiar possessions through his eyes was worse than Kain had expected.
He did not see the table where Marta had taught them to read. He did not see the chest made by Halvar's father before Kain was born. He did not see the blanket under which Mia slept every winter.
He saw only value.
"Table," the assessor said. "Six copper."
"It is worth more," Marta objected.
"Old. The legs are loose."
"Because your assistant decided last year to check for a hiding place beneath it."
The assessor did not reply.
"Two chairs. Two copper each."
"Three each."
"No one will buy them for three."
"Then do not take them."
He wrote something on a tag and tied it to the back of a chair.
Mia watched his hands.
"Woolen blanket," he continued. "Five copper."
Mia looked toward her pallet.
"No."
The assessor approached the curtain.
The girl stood in front of him.
"It's mine."
"It is now included in the inventory."
"Mama!"
Marta gripped her shoulder.
"Mia, step aside."
"I'll be cold."
The assessor removed the blanket from the pallet and rolled it up.
Kain felt Marta's hand press harder against his chest.
"Five copper?" she asked. "I sewed it myself. The wool alone is worth twice that."
"It will bring no more on the secondhand market."
"Then why do you value it at a price for which no one would sell it?"
"Because seized property is valued at the expected price of an immediate sale."
"So you take more property in order to recover less money."
Kaspar answered:
"That is the prescribed collection procedure."
Kain laughed.
Not because anything was funny.
"Frost og aske. And you call that a procedure?"
Kaspar looked at him.
"Use Avaren when addressing a representative of the Treasury."
"You live in Valskar."
"The collection is being carried out under an imperial register."
"Then what language do you use when taking a blanket from a child?"
Marta turned Kain sharply toward her.
"Look at me."
He did not want to.
"Kain."
He met her eyes.
"Not now," she said quietly.
The assessor moved to the basket beside the hearth.
"Two skeins of wool."
"They are not ours," Marta said. "The miller's daughter brought them for a job."
"Do you have proof?"
"She brought them last night."
"Then you do not."
He fastened a tag to the basket.
"A sack of oats. Three copper."
"That is feed for the goat."
"Four strings of dried meat. Another four."
"That is the family's food."
"The law leaves a household the minimum provisions required for three days."
Kain looked at Kaspar.
"Three days?"
"That is the law."
"What are we supposed to eat on the fourth?"
"By the fourth day, you may earn money, receive aid from the community, or petition the landman."
"The same landman who sent you?"
Kaspar did not answer.
Liska bleated again beyond the wall.
The assessor turned his head.
"The goat."
"No," Mia said.
This time, her voice was different.
Not frightened.
Firm.
"Liska gives milk," Marta said. "The law prohibits seizure of a household's only animal when it is required to feed a child."
Kaspar opened the folio.
"If the household has another source of nourishment, the animal may be added to the inventory."
"You have already taken four strings of meat."
"They have not yet been seized. They have only been inventoried."
The assessor went out into the yard.
Mia bolted after him.
"Mia!" Marta shouted.
The girl ran outside.
Kain no longer heard what his mother was saying.
He pushed the door open and stepped into the yard.
Night was retreating. A gray band of dawn had appeared above the rooftops. Lights came on in neighboring houses, and people peered from their windows, but no one came closer.
The assessor opened the small shed.
Liska backed away, pulling the rope taut.
"Don't touch her!" Mia clutched the goat's coat with both hands.
"Girl, move aside."
"Nei!"
One of the guards approached her.
"Listen to your mother."
"She's ours!"
He took Mia by the shoulder and tried to pull her away.
The girl twisted free.
The guard gripped her harder.
"Let her go," Kain said.
The man did not even look at him.
"Go back inside."
"I said let her go."
"Kain, stop!" Marta ran onto the porch.
The guard pulled Mia away from the goat.
Her fingers slipped loose.
The girl lost her balance, fell onto the frozen ground, and struck her cheek against the edge of the trough.
She screamed.
Everything that followed happened too quickly.
Kain crossed the distance in a single rush.
He punched the first guard in the jaw.
Clumsily.
Too wide.
But with all his weight.
The man staggered back and struck the shed wall.
The second guard tried to seize Kain from behind.
Kain drove an elbow into his stomach, turned, and shoved him in the chest.
"Seize him!" Kaspar ordered.
The first guard swore and drew his sword.
Marta shielded Mia with her body.
"Nok! Everyone stop!"
No one heard her.
The guard stepped toward Kain.
Kain saw the sword and knew he should retreat.
He did not want to.
He caught the man's wrist in both hands.
The blade passed beside his face.
The guard was stronger. Kain felt his arms slowly bend and the point draw closer to his neck.
Then he drove a knee into the man.
The guard exhaled and loosened his grip.
Kain wrenched the sword toward himself.
The hilt almost reached his hand.
The second guard crashed into his side.
All three fell onto the porch.
Kaspar managed to step aside, but his ledger still lay on the table beside the open door. One of the guards struck it with his shoulder.
The ledger fell.
The inkpot toppled after it.
Black liquid spread across the page, turning neat lines of debt into a shapeless stain.
Everyone froze.
Even Mia stopped crying.
Kaspar looked at the ledger.
Then at Kain.
"Do you understand what you have done?"
Kain lay on the boards with a guard's knee pinning him down. His lip was split. He could taste blood.
"Corrected another entry."
The guard struck him across the face with the pommel of his sword.
Kain's head snapped sideways.
Marta cried out.
"Hit him again, and I will break your arm," a new voice said.
It was not loud.
But the guard stopped.
Captain Arnwald Skell stood at the gate.
He wore no helmet. An old gray cloak hung over his mail. His left leg lagged slightly when he walked, but the captain still moved quickly.
Two more garrison soldiers stood behind him.
Arnwald took in the yard.
Mia on the ground.
Marta beside her.
Kain beneath the guard.
The drawn sword.
The open door.
The spilled ink.
"Get the boy up," the captain said. "No blows."
"He attacked officers of the Treasury," Kaspar objected.
"I can see that."
"And damaged a state register."
"I can see that too."
"Then why are your men still standing there?"
"Because I decide when they move."
Kaspar pressed his lips together.
Arnwald went to Mia and crouched in front of her.
"Show me your cheek."
The girl pressed a hand to her face.
"I don't want to."
"Then I will have to assume a second nose has grown there."
Mia cautiously lowered her hand.
Her cheek was scraped, but the bone appeared unharmed.
"Are you dizzy?"
"Nei."
"Do you feel sick?"
"No."
"Good."
He looked at the guard who had pulled her away.
"Did you throw the child down?"
"She was struggling, Captain."
"I did not ask why."
The guard lowered his eyes.
Arnwald stood.
"Sheathe your sword."
"But—"
"Sheathe it."
The blade disappeared.
Only then did the captain turn to Kain.
"And you."
Kain spat blood into the snow.
"What about me?"
"You are trying very hard to reach the grave before you learn to shave."
"They knocked Mia down."
"So you decided to attack two armed soldiers?"
"It almost went well."
Arnwald looked at his battered face.
"No."
He turned to Kaspar.
"How much?"
"After correction, five silver and seven copper. Two silver and eleven copper paid."
"The balance?"
"Two silver and sixteen copper, excluding damage to the register and resistance to collection."
"What have you inventoried?"
The assessor listed the property.
When he reached the blanket, Arnwald held out a hand.
"Show me."
The rolled blanket was passed to him.
The captain examined the stitching.
"Valuation?"
"Five copper."
Arnwald took out his purse.
He counted five coins into Kaspar's palm.
"Record the property as redeemed."
The collector frowned.
"Captain—"
"You set the price."
"You are not a member of the household."
"Which means I may purchase seized property on the spot."
Kaspar was silent for several moments.
Then he nodded to the assessor.
The man removed the tag.
Arnwald handed the blanket to Mia.
"Here."
She held it to her chest.
"Takk."
"Do not thank me. The next time an armed man tells you to step aside, step aside first. Then find someone who may lawfully strike him."
He looked at Kain.
"Not your brother."
"I heard you," Kain said.
"I was not speaking for your convenience."
Arnwald approached the basket of wool.
"Whose is it?"
"Ingrid's, the miller's daughter," Marta replied. "She brought it yesterday."
The captain pointed to one of the soldiers.
"Go to the mill. Bring the daughter here, or obtain written confirmation."
Kaspar objected:
"Collection proceedings have already begun."
"Seizure of someone else's property has not. Or would you prefer to explain to the jarl's judge why you took wool that did not belong to the debtor?"
The collector said nothing.
Arnwald looked at Liska.
"The goat remains until the food stores are reviewed. First recalculate what you have already placed in the inventory. You cannot take the food and then cite its existence as grounds for taking the animal."
The assessor opened his mouth.
Arnwald raised an eyebrow.
The man closed it.
Marta released a quiet breath.
For the first time that morning, Kain felt able to breathe.
Not for long.
The captain turned to him.
"Kain Alseif, you are under arrest for assaulting the guard, attempting to seize a weapon, and damaging a state register."
"Are you arresting the soldier for what he did to Mia?"
"His conduct will be reviewed separately."
"So no."
"So not by you, and not now."
Two garrison soldiers approached Kain.
One took out a leather strap for binding his hands.
Marta stood.
"He was protecting his sister."
"I know."
"Then do not bind him."
Arnwald looked at Kain.
"Will you come quietly?"
"And if I don't?"
"Then we will carry you. It will hurt you more, and I will not care."
Kain held his arms at his sides.
"I'll walk."
Arnwald nodded to the soldiers.
"No bonds."
Marta approached her son.
Her face remained calm, but her fingers trembled.
She wiped the blood from his lip with the edge of her shawl.
"I told you to keep quiet."
"I know."
"I told you to stop."
"I know."
"You always know everything after it is too late."
Kain looked at Mia.
She held the blanket and tried not to cry.
"They didn't take Liska."
"Not yet."
"And they'll return the wool."
"They will."
"Then I didn't ruin everything."
Marta closed her eyes.
"Frost ta deg, Kain."
But there was almost no anger in her voice.
May the frost take you.
Northern mothers said it when they wanted to strike their sons and embrace them at the same time.
Marta did only the latter.
Briefly.
Then she released him.
"Go."
Kain walked toward the gate.
As he passed Kaspar, he looked at the ink-soaked ledger.
"You'll have to rewrite the page now."
"And you will have to pay for the damage."
"Then we both found work today."
Arnwald shoved him between the shoulder blades.
"Walk before I change my mind about the bonds."
By morning, the garrison cell was so cold that the wooden bench felt like stone.
It was not truly a cell, but a storage room beside the armory.
The sacks of barley had been removed, leaving an empty chest, a bench, and a bucket. A new iron hasp had been fixed to the door, and it looked sturdier than the entire wall.
Kain sat with the back of his head against the boards.
His left cheek had swollen.
His ribs hurt from the fall.
His knuckles were scraped raw.
Several times, he reminded himself that he had struck the guard for Mia.
That made what he had done feel right.
Then he remembered Marta's face as the charges were laid against him one after another.
That made being right less comforting.
Outside, Oksen was waking.
The gates creaked.
Someone led a horse across the yard.
The soldiers changed guard and cursed at the water frozen in a barrel.
One said:
"Heil morn."
Another replied:
"It will be a good morning when you stop talking."
After a while, the door opened.
Kain raised his head.
Halvar Renn entered the storage room.
The old smith brought a mug of water and a piece of black bread.
His gray beard was damp with snow. Burns and old scars covered his right hand, and his shoulder trembled faintly beneath his thick shirt—the mark of too many years of labor and too many battles.
He set the water beside Kain.
"Eat."
"I'm not hungry."
Halvar sat on the chest.
"I did not ask."
Kain took the bread.
For several moments, the smith said nothing.
That was worse than a reprimand.
"Did Marta send you?"
"No."
"Then how did you know?"
"Three things travel faster than the winter wind in Oksen: smoke, gossip, and news of your stupidity."
Kain bit into the bread.
"I protected Mia."
"Did you?"
"The soldier knocked her down."
"I heard."
"Then you understand."
Halvar rested his elbows on his knees.
"You hit one of them."
"Yes."
"The other drew his sword."
"Yes."
"You tried to take it."
"Yes."
"And if the captain had arrived too late?"
Kain did not answer.
"How many people would have remained in the Alseif house?" Halvar asked.
"I could have handled it."
"No."
"I almost took the sword."
"Almost is a dead boy's favorite word. Almost made it. Almost dodged. Almost became a man."
Kain clenched the bread in his hand.
"What was I supposed to do? Watch?"
"First decide what you want to achieve. Only then strike."
"They would have taken the goat."
"Arnwald kept the goat without a fight."
"Because he came afterward."
"Because he knows how to act so that his words carry weight."
Kain looked at the door.
"Kaspar came before dawn. The amount in the ledger was wrong. The assessor was taking things for half their value. A soldier shoved a child. And all of that is legal?"
Halvar drew a slow breath.
"Legality and justice sometimes sleep under different roofs."
"Then what is the law for?"
"To keep the man holding the sword from deciding what is just every single time."
"But that is exactly what they did."
"Yes."
"Then the law did not help."
"It helped your mother. She made the collector correct the amount."
"And he still took our things afterward."
"Because the debt remained."
Kain turned away.
"It isn't fair."
"I did not say it was."
"Then whose side are you on?"
Halvar looked at him.
"The side of those who must survive the winter."
Kain gave a bitter smile.
"Convenient answer."
"No. The convenient answer would be to tell you that you did well."
Someone passed along the corridor outside.
The smith leaned closer.
"Did you hear the Call?"
Kain went still.
"What?"
"When you rushed the soldiers. Did you hear your blood?"
"No."
"Do not lie to me."
Kain remembered the moment before the blow.
How the noise around him had seemed to recede.
How his heart had become heavy and clear.
How his body had surged forward before he had time to think.
"Maybe."
"Heat?"
"No."
"Pressure in your chest?"
Kain nodded.
Halvar swore quietly:
"Frost og aske."
"Is that bad?"
"It is early."
"I'm sixteen."
"Exactly."
"Others begin younger."
"Others learn to listen before they step beneath a sword."
Halvar picked up the empty mug and turned it in his hands.
"Remember this in Valsk. It will be harder to pretend you misunderstood."
He spoke slowly:
"Kraft du ei stann, er ei din."
Kain knew the phrase.
It was repeated to children when they first felt the Call of the Blood.
"Power you cannot stop does not belong to you."
"Correct."
"You think I don't know how to stop?"
Halvar looked at his battered face.
"I think you have not even begun to learn."
Kain finished the bread.
"Will they imprison me?"
"You are already imprisoned."
"I mean for long."
"Arnwald will decide. Kaspar will demand a trial and payment for the ledger. The landman will want to show that an attack on his men does not go unpunished."
"So, for a long time."
"Possibly."
Kain leaned his head against the wall.
"Marta hates me."
"No."
"You didn't see the way she looked at me."
"I have seen how your mother looks at someone she hates. You would prefer to remain in here."
Kain smiled despite himself.
Halvar stood.
"I'll speak to Arnwald."
"To have me released?"
"To keep them from beating you."
"Reassuring."
The smith went to the door.
"Halvar."
He stopped.
"Would you have hit that soldier?"
Halvar was silent for a moment.
"Once, yes."
"And now?"
"Now I would make him spend the winter repairing the fence around every house where a child lives."
"That sounds worse than a blow."
"Which is why I lived long enough to grow gray."
He knocked on the door.
The guard drew back the bolt.
Before leaving, Halvar looked over his shoulder:
"Hyr meg, Kain. Anger is a good fire, but a poor master."
The door closed.
Kain was alone.
Perhaps an hour passed.
Light began to enter through the cracks in the wall. Gray at first, then pale gold.
Oksen had fully awakened.
The sound of a hammer came from the street. Merchants opened their awnings in the square. Somewhere, a woman shouted as she argued over the price of fish. Children ran to the well before the adults could find work for them.
An ordinary morning.
As though no one had come to collect a debt before dawn.
As though Kain were not sitting behind a locked door.
Suddenly, a horn sounded over the settlement.
One long note.
Not a garrison signal.
Deeper and clearer.
Imperial.
Everything in the yard went quiet.
A few moments later, the horn sounded again.
Kain rose from the bench and went to the door.
Rapid footsteps approached outside.
"Open the gates!" someone shouted in the yard. "Imperial courier!"
Chains rattled.
The guards were calling to one another in Valsk now:
"Grind opp!"
"Vakt fram!"
"Clear the way!"
Then came the sound of hooves.
Not one horse.
An entire detachment.
Kain pressed an eye to the gap between the boards, but saw only a strip of the courtyard flooded with morning sunlight.
Someone ran past the storage room.
"General assembly in the square!" a voice cried. "By order of the landman, all free residents are to attend the proclamation of an imperial decree!"
Arnwald appeared in the corridor.
He stopped at the door, drew back the bolt, and looked at Kain.
"Good morning."
Kain touched his swollen cheek.
"It could be better."
"It could become worse."
"What happened?"
Arnwald opened the door wider.
Behind him, the garrison was already forming ranks in the yard. An imperial banner that had not been there the night before flew above the wall of Oksen.
"Get dressed," the captain said. "The Empire has news for us."
Kain stepped into the light.
That morning, he had awakened a debtor.
Now the debt had been joined by a battered face, a charge of assaulting the guard, and a state ledger soaked in ink.
The day had barely begun.