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the baroness’s hand and shook it.
    “The wounded man is your husband?”
    “Close enough,” Mildred said. “Right now, the important thing is, he’s my patient. And I need to see to him. He needs immediate treatment or he’ll die.”
    “He is being tended to right now,” the baron said.
    “I’ll be the judge of that,” she said harshly.
    “No, Mildred,” Ryan said. “ I will.”
    She shot Ryan a glare. He met her look calmly.
    She was an intelligent woman and a well-educated one. And sooner or later the former would get the better of the latter, he knew.
    Mildred dropped her gaze and her shoulders slumped. She had remembered either that Ryan was their nominal leader, or which of the two of them had ridden with J.B. longer.
    Still smiling, Lady Katerina patted Mildred gently on the shoulder. Then she moved on to be introduced to Jak and a blushing, stammering Ricky.
    Krysty moved up and took Ryan’s arm. He knew she was trying to reassure him about his best friend. He didn’t brush her off.
    “On my word as a baron,” Frost said, “your friend is receiving care as good as any which is likely to be available in our blighted world.”
    Ryan met his eye. “I’m a baron’s son myself,” he said. “I know what the word of most barons is worth.”
    Frost laughed. “Fair enough, Ryan Cawdor. Then, on my word as someone who has fought by your side.”
    Ryan shrugged. “You seem a straight shooter. I’ll take your word because of that. But we want to see him.”
    “Soon,” Frost said as his wife came back to his side. “But first, we must discuss a proposition.”
    “It figures,” Mildred said. “You’re going to bargain for John Barrymore’s life.”
    “And it’s lucky for us that they are,” Ryan rasped. “They could’ve let him die in the snow. All of us. Fireblast, Mildred, have some nuking sense. Haven’t you learned yet that the usual bargain you get offered in this world is ‘we kill you and take everything’?”
    He felt Krysty squeeze his strong arm. Loving, gentle—and hard enough to send a message.
    “Easy now, lover,” she said. “She’s worried.”
    “So am I, rad-blast it,” he muttered back.
    He looked at the baronial pair and rubbed his jaw. Stubble grated his palm.
    “I’m listening,” he said. “Name your bargain.”
    Katerina smiled; Baron Frost nodded.
    “You’re clearly warriors,” he said. “Not just brave, but resourceful. We need your help.”
    “We want our daughter back, Mr. Cawdor,” Katerina said. “We want your help.”
    “Where is she?” Mildred asked. “If it takes more than a few hours, J.B.’ll be dead!”
    “Our healers are confident they can keep him alive longer than that,” Frost said.
    Krysty had moved to Mildred’s side and put an arm around her. Glancing back, Ryan saw her give the stocky healer a hug—that clearly carried the same import her hand-squeeze had to Ryan. Mildred glared and rolled eyes as bloodshot as those of a buffalo bull pissed off hotter than nuke red, but she held her peace.
    “We will operate on your friend,” Katerina said. “And save his life—if that is possible. When you bring us back our daughter, we’ll let you have him back. And an appropriate amount of jack. All accounts squared.”
    Mildred uttered a strangled noise. Ryan waved a hand as if batting back a mosquito.
    “Why so generous?”
    “Generous?” Mildred squawked. “What the hell are you—”
    “Stow it.”
    She shut up. Ryan hadn’t raised his voice. He only made it crack like a blaster.
    “Generous, I said. Because it is. Barons don’t commonly put themselves out for the sake of random strangers who happen to wander into their land.”
    “We try to hold ourselves to a high standard, Mr. Cawdor,” Frost said. “But the fact is, you’ve done us a powerful service already.”
    “Chilling slavers?” Ricky piped up. Ryan scowled but didn’t turn it on the boy. The fact was, the kid was one of them now. So, like any of them,