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The days passed. It had been a week now.

Jalo knew he shouldn’t worry. Timeo was reliable. He was inventive when he had to be and still lived to tell the tale.

All he could do now was wait and bide his own time.

He glanced at his diary. Oh. It was that civil servant, again. After that he had to leave for a private meeting in parliament.

The goat stood up from the desk and rang the bell on a pulley next to him. The butler entered smoothly.

‘At your service sir. What is required?’

Jalo thought for a moment. ‘Fresh coffee. I have an important visitor arriving shortly. And…’ He grinned. ‘After my duties, my day will be done. The room is ready, I hope?’

A mere flash of a smile before back to the standard neutral expression that was a hallmark of the man. ‘Ready whenever you are, sir.’

‘Excellent! Well, you know what to do. Send our dear guest in when he arrives.’

The butler nodded and left as though he’d never entered. Well, Jalo thought with a frustrated sigh. Let’s get today over with, he thought as he wore the fixed smile upon seeing his guest enter.

—---------------------------

Kainuu, as a province, was colder than at the coast, although even in Helsinki, snow had started to fall and the air felt crisp. Snow had blanketed the ground on his arrival and had only gotten thicker once Timeo had left to report his task complete.

At this moment, he was standing over a body. About thirty paces away, there was another. Red decorated the snow under both of them

It had taken three days to get to this point and his job was done, finally.

His journey to the rich man’s playground had been made so much easier by the advent of the obsession with rail that Europe had adopted. He’d had to find a ride here after the station was a little further out than hoped but that had been easy enough. Long haul rail travel was the thing to do these days and he’d admittedly been glad of the chance to rest and think of how he was going to get these two out of that certain house and into a position where a pellet could dispose of them.

Where they had chosen their excursion was a small town that translated to ‘hunting grounds by two lakes’ in English which, more or less, was right. This was a town that thrived with the sheer amount of game on offer, whether it flew, ran or burrowed. It also had Timeo’s favourite lingonberries which were a popular condiment to serve the meat with.

The rooftops of the houses, with architecture borrowed a little from their neighbours and some baroque features from the mainland were already coated in snow and yet more was dusted on top like a sugar confection. Snow also clung to signs that broadcast their wares, provided that you understood basic Finnish. It looked like one of those Christmas villages so much so that he half expected the houses to taste like gingerbread.

It was thankfully daytime by the time he had arrived but the night would be in soon. The further north he went (and Timeo had been near polar in some cases), the quicker the nights came in before it was shrouded in darkness altogether. It was one of the many quirks that gave Norway Sweden and Finland a more moody edge to their national character, one that hadn’t gone unnoticed.

The one who’d given him a lift to the house of certain repute was a gamekeeper and a wily looking ferret who had never stopped grinning.

‘You came a long way for a good time. I hopes ya got the coin to afford it.’ He’d cackled as Timeo had jumped down.

‘I’m here to drag someone out of there to be honest but noted.’ Timeo had chuckled. The ferret had been good company. ‘You might know them, one of them’s a Bavarian called Von Kruppe? I don’t know if he ventured out much.’

‘I know him, didn’t know he was Bavarian. I can tell you one thing, he won’t leave peacefully. And he never pays his due.’ The ferret spat over the side into the snow with a derisive sneer.

That hadn’t been wrong. Timeo had arrived at the front, ready with his charm in case it went wrong. The ring was on his right index finger, easy to see for those in the know.

The proprietress was locally known as Mama Bear. She wasn’t a bear or a furred kind but that didn’t matter. One look at her and bears would have turned tail and run away to get away from her ferocious stare. Her look had cowed the man before him before he was escorted to a room upstairs. Timeo had been about to speak when she’d spat this at him: ‘We’re fully booked. Come back in an hour and don’t waste my time.’

He tried again. Looking into the round stern face of the woman, he decided being direct was best. ‘I’m not here to buy. I’m looking for two gentlemen who have been here the past few days and haven’t wanted to leave just yet.’

It sounded vague but instantly her demeanour changed. ‘Oh them! They still haven’t paid either. I hope you’re here for that too.’ Her eyes narrowed. ‘They’ve been nothing but fucking trouble, I can tell you. My girls are bored of them. And they aren’t treated right, no sir! Get them out of here before my boys do, got it?’

Perfect. He nodded decisively. ‘Tell which rooms they’re in. I’ll talk to them and get your money. Then I’ll get them out of your way.’

Phew. He felt he’d nearly been gored to death there. She did tell him though, after another tirade of swear words that significantly added to his Finnish lexicon.

Rooms 3c and 4a. He rapped on the doors with some authority and stood back. 4a opened first as a flushed round face peered out. ‘What in the bloody hell is going on here? Can’t you see I’m busy?’ The rich Bavarian overtones boomed in the narrow hallway. He’d found his man.

The other door opened and a thinner brown canine face emerged, already opening the door as he shuffled his coat on. ‘Shut it, Gustav. You want everyone to know where you are, you great oaf?’ The canine looked at Timeo, giving him the cursory look from top to bottom as he curled his lip in disdain. ‘You. I don’t know you. Who sent you?’

Timeo hadn’t thought this far. He reacted quickly. ‘Markusz. And I’m not at liberty to say.’ He flashed the ring then indicted the other doors opening behind him, curious quests peering out. The dog gave the ring a look then nodded slowly. ‘I’m sorry but… the madame is getting impatient. She said to pay up or else.’

Timeo knew the dog too. Von Kruppe was the more infamous of the pair but Sergev Bold was not without his own and often quieter infamies. Despite the name, he was the son of a Hungarian civil servant who’d found favour in many royal courts by double dealing and bribery. If Timeo knew anything about him, it was that he was instantly suspicious by nature. He had to take this carefully.

Eventually Sergev sighed. ‘Gustav, get dressed. I was getting bored anyway. All these women know is how to fuck, get fucked and talk about getting fucked.’ He waved a hand irritably at Von Kruppe’s round face in the doorway, now wearing a look of puzzlement. ‘I said, get dressed! And everyone else, mind your business!’

The doors behind seemed to close quickly.

The debt was settled. As Timeo had suspected, Gustav Von Kruppe had feigned a loss of money on him at that moment in a way that was comically pathetic, so his companion had paid for them both.

‘And you’re both barred from here for six months until you learn to pay!’ Mama Bear had added after they’d left.

Timeo was invited back to the lodge they were staying at and he’d accepted. It was cheaper than the nearest hostel in the small town that would have exceeded his budget. He was nonetheless curious as to why they’d invite a stranger but his lack of money made him not ask stupid questions for now. He was offered what he thought was a cigar but smaller but declined, stating he favoured the pipe, even though he realised with sudden pangs that this was one key item he had forgotten.

They talked about everything and nothing. He simply listened, looking from one to the other to see if they gave anything away, or an answer as to why they’d just trusted him.

It was nightfall by now. Not much else to do to pass the time.

The politics of the European courts and parliaments came up frequently and he inwardly seethed as they laughed at their northern neighbours with such comments as ‘I’ve heard the Danes may have caught the Swedish Sickness.’ ‘What's that?’ ‘Neutrality.’ which were accompanied by raucous cruel laughter, then a cruel quip aimed at Switzerland for similar sentiments.

Timeo kept himself cool throughout such comments. If he had one rule it was this: he was entitled to despise and hate certain things about his own country. He could make jokes about the kings, the politicians, especially the military forces, oh definitely them. But anyone else? Maybe the Finns could, even his friend Torsten who was a proud Norwegian. They were entitled and he wouldn’t argue. But this sorry excuse for a Bavarian upstart? Not him or his thin canine friend. And neither had given away much beyond what he knew already.

As they retired for bed, Sergev beckoned Timeo for a private talk. He drew him to a room off the main living quarters, a smaller one that served as a cloakroom of sorts. ‘Forgive Gustav. He is…’

‘An idiot.’ Timeo, now Markusz, said simply but trying to remain calm. He hadn’t forgotten the jibes.

He especially hadn’t forgotten how Bold had quipped that the Finns were rather inhospitable and yet, here they were doing nothing but their best for such ingracious visitors. Timeo had seen some of the staff, bustling to meet their needs, frown only when the two were too busy to notice.

‘Quite. He’s very loud when it comes to what he thinks.’ Sergev smiled. It was not a nice smile. ‘But he has sway, despite this weakness. For all his blustering and all his pomp, he’s powerful. But here’s what I want you to do, if you know what’s good for you; I want you to watch him carefully from now on. And I’d like a word with you tomorrow. Alone. I’ll explain further.’

Timeo could have so easily killed them both there. But he was glad he hadn’t been stupid and ran at Sergev with his knife.

Sergev had a bodyguard outside his door, a man dressed in dark green and bearing a stance that told challengers death was certain. He (and Bold Timeo later noticed) also wore a protective mail undercoat as he recognised the leather it was attached to under the collar, the ringlets of metal hooked into it and looking finer than any armour he’d ever had. Body protection was not something most went for, but for those who bought it, it usually meant they had a target on their back.

Timeo noted this and went to bed in a foul mood.

—-------------------------------------------------

The second day had been equally frustrating. The cat was not cut out for spying, which this had definitely become, and he was here to off the two of them so he could get paid. But his impromptu plan of luring them out of the certain establishment of certain repute to take them elsewhere had not worked. So he had to try again.

It was like the hunting trip of Lappi all over again. Unpleasant memories of that trip surfaced upon his waking.

They didn’t try their luck at Mama Bear’s again. Thank God.

If anything, Von Kruppe was lazy. If it didn’t involve food or women, he sat inside reading and complaining about the locals, loudly and with a booming voice so even downstairs could hear. ‘Bloody natives! They don’t know a good wine if it hit them on the way out!’

Timeo took his breakfast with the servants. Even if he had been invited above, he’d have said no, pretending it wasn’t his place. The actual truth was that this way he could get gossip, better food and not have the company of insufferable idiots who’d talk a load of hot air.

‘I don’t know what that German thinks he is but he sure thinks he’s something important.’ The head chef grumbled, amidst a stream of curse words. ‘He had the nerve to insult my cooking last night!’

The head gamekeeper, a grizzled looking cat, spat on the floor. ‘I can do away with them. Hunting accident. No one’d know.’ He grinned over at Timeo. ‘You look like you know them. What do you think?’

Timeo shrugged. ‘Von Gruppe, unfortunately yes. The other, only through rumour.’ He shrugged. ‘But I agree. They have to go.’

The chef smirked. ‘How’d they upset you? You looked pretty cosy with them.’

Timeo leaned forward on the table and flashed a dangerous grin. ‘I can fake comfort but I can’t fake just how much each time I see them, I feel I want to strangle them both after they talk shit, all because they think they’re fucking entitled. I deal with that from them, all the damn time. So don’t tell me about cosy!’ It hadn’t meant to turn into a snarl, but he’d felt his working class bile rising at that point. It seemed to have shut them up. ‘Besides. I know how they can be killed without it ever coming back to anyone here. Because they’re idiots and we’re not.’

That seemed to convince them. It should have done because despite the subterfuge, Timeo had meant every word. The gamekeeper leaned in a little, leering and hopeful. ‘How? Poisoned food?’

‘Hey! I don’t want anyone-’

Timeo shook his head. ‘No. Not food. Too bloody obvious. And not at Mama Bear’s either. She’d murder me as well and they’d never find the body.’ That drew some laughs. ‘ No. Think about it. What do they like, barring food and fucking?’

‘Complaining?’ A maid ventured bitterly.

‘Hunting.’ The gamekeeper leaned back. ‘They love it. The German can’t shoot for shit. Don’t know the other one though yet.’

Timeo nodded. ‘Right. I’ll take both of those because yes, they like to complain and I don’t think they like each other much either. I saw the dog practically wanting to tear Kruppe’s head off last night. All we’d need to do is fix it so they ‘accidentally’ shoot each other. Easy with a hunting trip, right?’

Murmurs of assent and rebellious energy filled the kitchen. Then the bell rang.

‘Fuckin’ hell. Now they want seconds.’ the chef growled. ‘Alright, we talk later. Everyone who’s not a cook, fuck off out of here, I got work to do.’

Sergev meanwhile hadn’t forgotten what Timeo/Markusz had said and now took the time to grill him after breakfast was concluded.

‘Now we are quite secure, you can talk freely. So just tell me. Who sent you?’ The dog smiled. He was a brown colour with the long ears that were little more than curled fur that draped over his shoulders as though it was part of his long headfur. It made him look out of place, as though from another era. His long muzzle betrayed a greyhound heritage somewhere.

While he looked friendly, he was far from it. Cold eyes watched Markusz’ every move. He was also unfailingly direct.

Timeo really had not expected this, so improvised quickly. ‘He didn’t want me to say his real name but you may know him as Karkarov.’ Where that had come from he had no idea. He’d heard the name before, maybe Dusseldorf again, so had grabbed onto it as alibi. The name had carried a lot of weight in those circles.

Sergev’s expression didn’t change but a faint trace of recognition could be seen. ‘Ah. I had no idea he was with us. How did he know we were here?’

Was that a faint tremor of uncertainty? Timeo plunged on with his lie, feeling confident. ‘He wouldn’t say. I had failed in my duty when I was too late to get to someone to tell them to bail out. Karkarov took it out on me and ever since, he’s not given me much but orders.’

‘Ha! That sounds like him. A taskmaster if ever I heard one.’ A barking laugh at that. Sergev sounded a little friendlier now. That had worked. ’And what are your orders here?’

‘To find out what you were doing and almost in his words, tell you to actually do as you’re meant to be doing and not fucking around.’ If he’s learned anything about the Russians or their neighbours, they tended to be very direct.

Sergev Bold laughed again. This one had an edge of cruelty to it. ‘Then we shall do as he says.’

Now he was out of the fire and with lies that were thin as paper, the dog wasted no time in appraising him of the plan.

All he had needed to know was this: Finland was free. But it needed guidance. Who better to guide than old hands from the continent, especially from Germany and Austria-Hungary? (Not the French though. As Bold commented with thinly veiled francophobia, they couldn’t hold things together after a revolution.) An agreement with Russia to shore up the border and an offer of aid in case their now independent neighbours decided to undo independence, then all would be complete. It couldn’t fail.

‘And if our dear friend needs us to do our part, I think we should make plans to go.’ Bold scowled a little. ‘Provided I can get our Bavarian windbag to agree.’

Timeo listened and felt the fury grow inside. So this was it. They treated it like it was another country on the market, theirs to push and pull apart. Not new, he recalled from other experiences. Russia still encroached on the Crimea with similar offers and what they hoped was an innocent look. And even before Sweden had let the country go, there’d been diplomats there who’d hoped that some land would go their way, purely as down payment for security, oh of course!

It reminded him how much he hated politics, but especially the politics of the old hands who decided they knew what was good for everyone else. But here, he had a pellet with their names on at least.

He couldn’t take them out here. The lodge staff would be implicated. Besides he had to learn how protected Von Kruppe was first. And maybe convince him not to leave just yet.

By chance, they had decided on a hunt. While it was still daylight, Kruppe was bored and loudly proclaimed he wanted a brace of birds for their dinner tonight. Bold had agreed despite is earlier words. So it was time to find some birds to hunt and by one of the large lakes in the area, they found ducks and pheasants.

They’d only just arrived when Kruppesuddenly felt ill. His face had turned bright red and at a command, his clothing was loosened in case it was too tight.

The doctor who travelled everywhere with the man had said it was a mild heart attack, after struggling to test the flailing man. It was recommended he rest and the doctor’s tone suggested he had said this numerous times but the man steadfastly refused. ‘I feel better already,’ he declared with a wheeze. ‘Get me my bloody gun! I’m not missing another hunt because of some heart trouble!’

Timeo hung back to watch, letting them do the shooting. It was his place after all, as someone getting into the good graces of the mysterious Karkarov. This also gave him a good time to observe them.

Gustav Von Kruppe was a broad man with a normally red complexion in any case. His moustache was styled like Timeo’s (Timeo wasn’t jealous- he looked after his better, much better by far!) and his hair was thinning at the top. His doctor said he was worried about his excessive meat diet but the man didn’t regard it, saying it was normal to have good lean meat in his daily routine.

His shooting was also abysmal and he missed every shot. He’d swear then try again but by the time he fired a shot, the bird had moved and he was too early for another. At several points, he’d almost thrown his gun on the ground.

He also had no mail protection underneath his clothes which he'd hastily secured tight again. Perfect. The man was not only an idiot but an unprotected one.

Sergev Bold though was one to watch. The birds were flying in a close group as they shot out from the snow covered grass and he downed three of them. Timeo made a mental note of his aim and patience. He also noted Bold’s bodyguard standing nearby, wearing an expression of such stoicism and calm a Swede would be proud..

The pair had also argued fiercely, which was music to Timeo’s long tufted ears.

When Von Kruppe had felt ill, the dog had been the first to sneer and roll his eyes, making quips about not listening to the doctor or such sensitive lines as ‘That’ll be his bloody gout, which he hasn’t had treated for years!’ In his turn the man gave as good as was launched at him, calling Bold several names and a rather good quip of ‘If I’m too much, why don’t you be a good lap dog somewhere else?’

There was tension between the pair and any sane discussion was unlikely. They did like to complain. But they especially loved to complain about each other.

Sadly before he could capitalise on that, they went back to the lodge.

Dinner for the duo was their kill of the birds. Timeo wasn’t invited but felt a pang of frustration at the sight of the birds cooking on the fire. Those birds represented a whole day lost, a whole day being tied up with them and he wasn’t even allowed to touch them. It was some small revenge that the staff as a whole had some unsolicited scraps after the rest was saved for the following day for cold meat salads.

He went to bed frustrated and swore that tomorrow had to be better. It had to be. He’d finally do it.

—------------------

The third day was it. And yes, he finally did it.

He had sensed he had not been the only one frustrated. He awoke to the duo arguing fiercely, audible through the walls. He got up cautiously, dressed then headed out.

Ferocious arguing soon turned deadly as Von Kruppe brandished his pistol as Timeo entered the main room. Both were semi-dressed, not yet in all their finery, holding each other close with clenched fists balling shirts tight about the hands.

‘If you think you know any better, then bloody well tell me! Or would some lead right here better focus your mind?’ was the first thing he heard booming throughout the room.

Perfect.

Timeo darted between them as if to make peace, looking panicked. ‘Hey now, maybe let's not rush this, yes? What happened?’

Sergev bared long teeth and snapped at the air between them. ‘This genius thinks he should be in charge. Have you ever even talked to a Russian without calling them names for starters?!’

Timeo struggled for a moment to hold them apart. He was strong but anger had leant both of them some strength from somewhere.

‘I’d like to see you try! Have you heard how they talk? They use double meanings in everything they say! You have to be firm with them or they stab you in the goddamn back!’

‘As if our own politics is any better! I’ve lost count of how many I’d stick a knife into if I could!’

‘I’d stick more than one knife in you, you dog-brained bastard!’

‘And I’d love to see you try to get even one into me before I sink my teeth into your throat!’

The sounds of perfect disharmony was music to his ears. This was just the opportunity. Finally he acted as if he could stand no more. He wrenched them apart and stood between them, arms outstretched.

‘Gentlemen, please!’ As the shouts died down, he realised they were both glaring at him. ‘You’ll have to settle this. Either talk it over or-’

‘TALK?! Talk? With him?’ Von Gruppe bellowed. ‘I’d sooner kill him! Treacherous snake!’

‘Oh I’ve thought of so many ways to kill you-’

‘Enough!’ Timeo sighed. ‘If you can’t talk… Then there’s the gentlemen’s duel. Just to settle this, okay?’

The room was full of the sound of heavy breathing that only gradually calmed. Then Sergev nodded curtly.

‘Duel it is. I say pistols.’

‘Pistols. We’ll see who’s got the best aim, dogbreath.’

Timeo nodded. That had been easier than he’d thought. Just how badly did they hate each other?

‘Right. I’ll get the pistols ready under witness so there’s no accusations of cheating, as long as you’re both happy with that. It’d be the least I could do. Where shall we do this?’

The two conspirators hadn’t taken their eyes off each other. ‘Behind the lodge.’ They said it at the same time.

—-------------------------------------

Duels were slowly coming out of fashion, having been in vogue some years before and falling out of fashion again. However, some vague romantic notion of them, usually in romance stories where a bold lover challenged another for the hand of a fair maiden had somewhat brought them back.

The reality was that duels were often the very last resort of two angry men who wanted to show they could shoot in a fit of bravado and usually couldn’t. Quite often, most deaths were accidental, if they ever managed to shoot each other at all.

Timeo would see to it that neither made it off the field of battle. He knew Kruppe would die. But Bold had to go too.

There was a field under heavy snow by some trees that had been selected. By this point some of the lodge staff had gathered and were awaiting the entertainment. Unseen by either combatant, Timeo had winked at the crowd. He’d had a small nod from one in particular in return.

The judge was the head gamekeeper. His taciturn look meant he took his job seriously.

Timeo himself had, under independent witness, taken both pistols apart, cleaned and oiled them then set the charges inside. There’d been general comments of approval at how precise he was with all of it. There was no way that cheating could be accused.

Except that Timeo was cheating in another way. The trees were excellent cover and he had chosen a spot where Sergev would walk past when doing his fifteen paces. He’d said he’d patrol the forest nearest in case anyone decided to cheat, something that had made Sergev drily state; ‘If anyone would, it’s the man opposite me right now’ with a glare at Kruppe. It had almost caused another argument but it was agreed he should check.

As the rules were relayed, he crouched behind a tree and lay in wait, as still as a stalking wolf or wildcat. His eyes watched Sergev Bold closely, his ears flicked this way and that as if testing for anyone coming up behind him.

‘Fifteen paces… go!’

Timeo watched and remained perfectly still. Any observer there would have beenable to see him while moving but once still, it was as if he’d become one with the forest.

Sergev was twitchy. He was counting out each step but his whiplike tail thrashed and betrayed his inner frustration.

He was at the last one. Quick as a whip, he turned and aimed, cocking the mechanism in one motion and taking aim. After only a second’s hesitation, he fired. A brief gurgle from the other side indicated his aim had hit true.

He then fell to the ground, his throat torn open by a well-aimed lead pellet.

Scrambling out of the tree cover, Timeo checked Sergev over. There was no way he’d have survived that. It had practically embedded itself. Nonetheless he checked the pupils and pulse. He motioned to the gamekeeper. ‘Check him over there.’

Also dead. The lead ball had made a mess of the already red face, made even redder by the blood.

The bodyguard looked down at the body of his employer then at Timeo as he patted the tall man on the shoulder. ‘An honourable death. Not one you need to blame yourself for.’

The man looked stoic as ever, making Timeo look over-emotional by comparison. ‘You’re right. And he suggested it.’ He shrugged. ‘Don’t worry about me. I have plans.’ And he was gone. He hadn’t seemed bothered by his master’s death at all.

The gamekeeper shook hands with Timeo firmly. ‘A good plan, comrade. Worked better than I expected.’ The other spoke more warmly now. ’So if they ask…’

‘Say nothing.’ Timeo glanced at the bodies. ‘I wasn’t here. They got angry, had a duel, rare double shot and killed each other. Kruppe just got lucky.’

The gamekeeper nodded and smiled. ‘The famed beginner’s luck.’

—----------------------------------

And that brought Timeo to now, when the clean up was under way. The local authorities took accounts but when they knew it was a duel, they shrugged and made arrangements to have the bodies dealt with. It was a diplomatic headache Timeo was free of.

As he headed to the station to take the train back, he made sure the cloth bundle with both rings was tucked firmly in an inner pocket.