Torsten eyed the knight with the cool appreciation of a cattle dealer looking over a prospective stud bull.  Physically Albrecht looked the part; well built and muscular, the man moved with the confidence and grace of a warrior rather than a thug.  That was good.  The Swede had had long experience with the Teutonic Order and had met far too many of them who were simply bullies in armour, without the true ability of a soldier to back up their bulk and arrogance.  Men like that tended to die quickly, and to drag others with them.  But did he have the necessary brains and cunning for this work?  That remained to be seen.  The merchant took his seat again and gestured to the squire.  ‘Wulf, Master Danilko is drinking down at Masha’s tavern.  Take yourself off and go buy a beer.  Don’t speak to him, he’ll know when you come in that your master’s waiting for him here.’  He glanced over at the knight.  ‘Sorry, shouldn’t be giving orders to your man but we thought it the best way of getting you together without anyone suspecting anything.  Danilko couldn’t hang about here all night without that being noticed by certain parties.’<br/><br/>Once they were alone, Torsten tamped down his pipe, lit it again and thoughtfully blew out a mouthful of smoke.  ‘Well now.  Our operations.  I’ve been resident here for about three years now, though I’ve been coming and going in trade a lot longer, and I’d say we have a foothold.  Or to be honest, a toehold.  I know the Order expected more, but it hasn’t been quite as easy as expected.  On the mortal side, we do have a solid foundation and some useful friends; for instance, I have a few boyars who’ll sell the town to us for the right price, and Prince Pavel will swear fealty to any power that puts him on the throne of Vistina.  He has no faith in any religion, if we’re honest, and will kiss a cross of any shape, or a crescent for that matter, if it gets him what he wants.  On the other hand, that does mean he’s not all that reliable and if someone makes him a better offer we could lose him.  But I have him buttered up and as long as I keep him supplied with coin he’s not likely to look elsewhere.’<br/><br/>He puffed out another aromatic cloud.  ‘Where it gets hard to make headway is with the other side of things, if you understand me.<em>Your </em>side of things.   To begin with, if Prince Mikhail’s wife Olya isn’t a witch, then she has one working for her, of that I’m sure.  At least two of his personal bodyguard are pagan skinwalkers from the north.  And then there is the Night Prince of Vistina.’  He paused, his brow furrowing and an old scar above his eyebrow flushing crimson.   ‘I lost three good agents just finding out who he was, one of them a vampire himself.  And nobody else I’ve got in close enough to learn much has lasted more than a couple of months.  What I do know is this.  He goes under the name Janis Kola and he’s a trader too.  Genuine, and very good at it, I might add; he makes more in a fortnight than I do in a season.  Has a big warehouse on the other side of the street, with its own direct access to the docks - the only one that does.  Has about ten ships of his own and runs five or six caravans in the season.’  He had the suspicion that these details were wasted on the knight, from the blank and glacial stare.  ‘Anyway, that’s no matter, though it means he has more buying power over people than I’m happy about.  But worse than that, he’s been here at least a hundred years or so, and he has a network of human and vampire agents that will be damned difficult to get around.  He’s the reason the town lets Jews and pagans live their own way as long as they keep their rites out of the eyes of the orthodox; even we Catholics are tolerated.  It’s good for trade, but there’s more to it than that.  Kola may be a pagan himself, and he certainly has Jewish and heathen allies.  By the way, I recommend you never try to feed in the Jewish ghetto…’<br/>