Venzene Duchy of Kovalun
County Jižní Pochod
Barony of Hartscross–Jižní Lov
“Awka… erld hshek gish gor, uthka.” Lashjuk spoke in a slow, steady way as they walked. She wanted to give Kastan every chance to make sense of Grimdash Zaksh. “Ed kar el zaksh ol, Lady.” (So… you’re the true crown, now. I want our conversation to be quiet.)
Kastan paused, turning her head to meet Lashjuk’s eyes, then nodded. “Erld… gar? Gar el? Is that right? You shielded us? You … saved us?” Kastan shook her head. “I am sorry, Lady. I just—”
Lashjuk laughed. It was a soft chuffing noise, but it was honest. “It’s fine, La—…er, Excellency. You spoke it rightly, but I wouldn’t let it worry you. So long as we can be cautious in our speech, I’ll take no offense if you use the Trade Tongue.”
Kastan blushed and bowed her head, chuckling. “Aye, fair. And thank you … for both the kindness and saving us all. I’d no notion how to fight living fire.”
She gestured, and they resumed their walk around the central chamber. Lashjuk fought back a wince at hearing what she now accounted as unit speech. “Aye” was a common enough word. Certainly, it wasn’t limited to Eobum and his men, but the association was difficult to shake.
She cast about for a moment to refocus herself. Her eyes marked Maksu, standing close to Andrej and the red hound. She hated to admit it, but she not only approved—she was relieved.
Andrej had suffered under the heavy burden of Ebistian’s dark cloud. He must know at least something of the silver-haired devil’s larger goals. To say that realization gave her pause would be underselling it. Still, he’d stood to defend her boy twice now. Gi awka glem, he’d stood to defend her moments ago. And, if Maksu’s story was to be believed, the pair had fought against one another in a babe’s lyst. While Andrej had come out the victor, he’d taken the time to help Maksu back to where Lakkrid waited with…
“…With Vlk.” She bowed her head.
She felt Kastan’s hand on her shoulder, offering a gentle squeeze. “I know. It’s… it’s awful. Would that I could kill his fool of a father a second time.”
Lashjuk looked up to meet Kastan’s eyes. She allowed herself a darksome grin. “Ware what you wish for, Excellency. Given today’s events, you may see it come true.”
Kastan paled, then nodded. She flashed her own darksome grin. “Comes down to it, Lady? That man is someone I wouldn’t mind killing twice. He was misled. That’s true enough. But he was ready to be misled. Hells, he all but begged to be misled.”
She shook her head. “But never mind. Jash el zaksh?” (What do we discuss?)
Lashjuk widened her eyes, favoring Kastan with a genuine smile. That was well spoken, she thought.
”Believe me when I say I understand.” She was thinking of Ebistian. She’d killed him twice today, though neither seemed to do more than slow him down. Well, never mind. Back to it. She gave the woman a very well nod and returned to the matter at hand.
“Awka… erldlg. Hshek wrin erldlg? Hshek wrin Edmundlg?” (So… your son. Is he your son? Is he Edmund’s son?)
Kastan stopped short, face growing first pale, then bright red with building anger. “Fashek yashkr erld…” She shook her head, then glared at her. The force in those black dreamer’s lamps augured well for her future as a leader. “De. De, erld hrek ra ol balefth edlg. De? Ed hrek dash erld, Lady. Do not doubt me.” (How dare you… No. No, you will be silent about my son. If not? I will silence you.)
Lashjuk felt a cold smile crawl across her face. She allowed her eyes to narrow to slits, then nodded. “No fear, Excellency. I’ll tell you the tale of meeting his cousin as and if we manage to escape this place. For now, know that … ed hrek nqas erld ol. So long as you’re true.” (I will keep your silence.)
Kastan gave a slow nod, her face relaxing. “Was there more?”
Lashjuk nodded. “A bit. There is something called the Keening going on above. I know little about it, but we would do better not to venture into the open while it lasts. Is there any other way out of this place? Somewhere we can hide?”
Kastan grinned, nodding. “There is. Hajvarr? Otta? Are we as ready as may be?”
Both spoke their confirmations. Otta’s was bright and clear, if fearful. Hajvarr’s voice held a cold, detached tone that Lashjuk didn’t much care for.
Nodding both to her captains, as it were, and to Lashjuk, Kastan reached for the scepter-thing at her belt. Striding toward the angel’s statue, she lifted her chin so that her voice would carry.
“And now it is time for yet another of Edmund’s secrets to be revealed. My Lord was always thinking of the future and how best to be ready for it. It is my hope to take those lessons forward as we—” She swallowed hard. Her face appeared to clench. Strong emotion had, it seemed, robbed her of her ability to speak. With an admirable effort, she forced herself to forge ahead. “As we leave this place behind.”
She looked to Andrej, then beckoned him over. He came willingly enough, though he looked more than a touch apprehensive.
“Mm-mother?”
Kastan flashed him a sad smile, even as she flushed. Lashjuk couldn’t help but grin.
It takes some getting used to, she thought. There’s great joy in hearing that word, Lady… in knowing it’s directed at you. But I fear that joy will creep up and pounce on you for a while yet.
Kastan gestured to the angel statue, even as she proffered the žezlo toward the blond boy. “Give it andělovi, Andrej. Let it be in her keeping for the nonce.”
He took it with undeniable reverence, gave her a questioning look, then moved to obey. He had to stand on his toes in order to gain the necessary angle, but he managed it, and moved to drop his dim hand beneath the angel’s fist. He was trying to catch the scepter as it slid through. To everyone’s surprise, based on their murmurs and gasps at any rate, the žezlo clicked into place with a reverberant ting.
Kastan beamed. “Just so. Now, take it in both hands. Twist it toward your bright side.”
Lashjuk walked over to stand by Maksu and the war hound. The animal looked up at her, then leaned her head back against Lashjuk’s bright arm and made a noise that sounded almost like a question. Her front paws came off the stone floor for an instant before she settled back to watch Andrej.
Lashjuk followed her gaze. The statue’s hand was turning under the boy’s efforts. When the scepter it now held faced five of the clock, she heard a deep, reverberant click from somewhere in the walls.
Kastan nodded. “Excellent. If I may?”
She stepped up beside Andrej, replacing his hand on the scepter with her own. Bowing her head, Kastan pulled straight outward. The statue came sliding forward as if it weighed nothing. Behind it, a pale green light revealed a well-made stone corridor.
That light is… familiar, Lashjuk thought. Certain climbers along the walls of caverns make light like that, but there’s something else… she was distracted by the assembled crowd. They gasped and mumbled in awe, but at least there was no fear.
Kastan looked inside, then nodded. “Hajvarr? If you would lead the way?” Once the man had nodded and stepped through, she spoke to the chamber at large again. “As soon as the initial area’s been made as safe as time allows, the rest of us will follow. This is Edmund’s long-sightedness. Here, we may find a safe place to weather this storm. We may even find…”
The man called Hajvarr returned, looking thunderstruck. “Excellency, it’s… it’s a trove.” His voice was breathy and awed. “And further on, there’s a stone way. It’s well lit by the lichen and goes on for … ages.”
Kastan nodded, smiling with clear relief. “Set guards at every door until we can explore the place fully. The rest of you?” She raised her face toward the roof. “Gather your things. It’s time we’re on our way.”
Lashjuk gave Maksu’s shoulder a squeeze. The boy beamed up at her, then took her hand. They walked to stand beside Kastan and Andrej, watching the survivors of this once-vibrant place stumble toward an uncertain future.
“Vrek nak dush, Og.” Lashjuk allowed a smile to creep into her voice. (A clever beginning, chieftainess.)
Kastan eyed her, then grinned. “Aye, well… hope doesn’t hunt for you, Lady. Best we give it a helping hand.”