"Where?" asked the smith.

"In the forest, biding their time," said Sergei. "Dimitri's days are numbered. Those who are wise would do well to prepare to follow Katerina when she returns."

The smith had his doubts, though. Until Sergei laughed. "Do you think Dimitri's sword will stand against the Widow's curses? Already he has been deceived by the witch and doesn't even know it. No, it takes a woman of power to stand against the wicked one."

There it was, the seed planted. When Sergei reported on the conversation, Ivan and Katerina were well satisfied. Word would spread. Many people would stop believing that Dimitri was their only hope. How could a soldier stand against a witch?

Running a still wasn't easy, but Father Lukas took to it naturally, even after he realized that the result would be an extremely potent beverage. The problem was supplying the still with fermentable foodstuffs. After a couple of days, Katerina authorized Sergei to bring a couple of teenage boys from the village, enlisting them as the first of her own druzhina, though their labor was pilfering grain sacks and toting them miles through the forest, rather than swordplay. "Whatever my people need, I do," she said, "and my druzhina will not be too good to do the same." They knew that she spoke the truth, and so they obeyed her and felt noble for doing it—as they should.

And in the process, they began to get to know Ivan. He made it a point never to command anyone, but always to ask; nor did he teach imperiously, but rather couched everything in phrases like, "The way I was taught..." or "I think it might work better if..." And then he got along with the young men, never pretending to be one of them, but enjoying their humor and refusing to become impatient with their playfulness.

So when it was time to pour alcohol into brittle pots and put in the fuses, the young men already liked Ivan. He showed them how to light the fuses and then throw the pots into the chasm. They were impressed, of course. But Ivan pointed out that they wouldn't be throwing them at rocks. "Imagine the old hag's knights receiving a dose of this."

The boys' eyes widened. And for the first time they realized that with weapons like these, boys might bring down mounted warriors. "We are her druzhina," said one of them. "I'd like to use this on Dimitri," said another.

"No," Ivan said. "Dimitri is one of our own."

"Not after what he did to King Matfei."

"Nevertheless, these weapons don't replace swords. We need his strength on our side."

Grudgingly they agreed. And then began to practice throwing stones of about the same weight as the Molotov cocktails, working on improving their aim.

Ivan had done a good job of learning the location of historically known mineral deposits in the area, and it took very little fumbling to get what he needed for gunpowder. Now that they had seen the Molotov cocktails, they took Ivan seriously when he warned them to handle the gunpowder carefully. Soon they were loading serious quantities of gunpowder into little bronze canisters with fuses. The smith couldn't spare any iron, for Dimitri would have noticed if it went missing, but bronze grenades would do well enough, Ivan figured. What mattered was shrapnel, to turn them from cherry bombs into legitimate weapons.

Since the fuse material was different, they had to practice to get the timing right. Soon, though, the boys were learning to throw grenades as well as cocktails, though they only practiced with tiny charges of gunpowder that went off with no more than a pop, and didn't damage the canisters. To everyone's surprise, Sergei emerged as one of the better throwers, and on some days the best.

"Time to return to Taina," Katerina announced, when their supply was adequate. "We must all return together, so let's close down the still." When the fires were out, they hid the unused gunpowder and the materials used to make it, then shouldered their bags of cocktails and grenades and made their way along Sergei's path through the woods.

Sergei had been careful never to follow the same route twice, so he couldn't easily be followed, but the boys had not been so careful. Clearly the only reason they had not been found was that some of the enchantment lingered, protecting their hiding place by the chasm. Now there would be no protection. And Ivan knew that Dimitri, having tasted power, would not surrender it easily. Especially if he feared that he would be punished for his treason. Katerina was still not fully persuaded that Dimitri should be pardoned, if he gave his word. "He has no honor now," she insisted. "His word will mean nothing, to him or to the people or to me."

"Maybe you're right," said Ivan. "But if he's a good man, then he'll take this opportunity to begin to restore his honor. And if he's not, then no one can say you didn't give him every chance."

"Every chance to do what? To stab us in the back?"

"Yes," said Ivan. "But we take that risk with anyone we trust."

"I don't trust Dimitri."

"Then do as you will," said Ivan. He could say that because he knew that she was still considering what he said. If she decided otherwise, he would never criticize her; if she agreed with him, it would be because she had come to believe he was right, and not because she wanted to please Ivan. She was the one whom the people followed, Ivan knew. It was not his place to tell her how to do her work. It was the career she was born for and trained for. He was a novice. And yet, novice or not, she listened to his counsel, which was all he could ask for, when it came to leading the kingdom.

At the edge of the wood, they contemplated stopping and waiting till morning, but Katerina decided against it. "The Widow knows we're here. She's probably warned him already. So we must go on."

Ivan remembered well the first time he came with her into Taina. The people cheered her then, and only looked at Ivan with mild curiosity, as a naked stranger tagging along with their beloved Katerina. Now it was different. They were uncertain, and while a few people waved to her and called out her name, and all came out of their huts to watch, there was no cheering.

This was not good, and while Katerina could not ask for cheering, Ivan could. To the boys nearest him, he said, "Go into the crowd and raise a cheer for the princess, and then come back." They understood at once—public relations is one of the inborn human skills—and within moments there were loud cries and cheers and clapping of hands for the princess. All it took was for a few to raise their voices, and then the others took courage and joined in.

Now it was a triumphal march through the village to the king's house. But Dimitri was not there to greet them—nor was King Matfei. The house was empty.

"They're at the fortress," said Katerina. "It's a good sign. Dimitri didn't have confidence that the people would stay with him."

Katerina and Ivan led the way, Father Lukas after them, and the young druzhinniks close behind. Sergei could not keep up, but he had given the match—a lanternlike container alight with slow-burning fuel—to one of the boys, so they'd be able to light their fuses, if the need arose.

Dimitri met them standing at the gate, with King Matfei held between two strong men. Other soldiers waited inside the gate of the fort.

"I have come," Katerina said, "to report to the king my father and receive his instructions."

Dimitri shook his head. "King Matfei has been struck dumb by the gods because he allowed Christians to interfere with the ways of the people."

"If the gods have struck down my father the king, why do you need to keep him under guard?" asked Katerina. "The gods need no swords. Father Lukas carries none."

"We face a terrible enemy," said Dimitri. "Do you think Father Lukas can stand against the army of the witch?"