“Ah, God knows the monster is dead by my hand,” Dana swore. “Leave me, bird.”
A simple-looking country man was driving two heifers along a path that divided the plains from the hills. He looked at Dana as though he recognized him. He ran to him in the half light and pressed something into his hand.
“From the Count Cyril Prasinos,” the simple-looking man said. It was the reward and the wages. It was a copper penny.