Insert Scout Motto
“It was not perfect, but what you did at the end that was,” she paused and looked up, as if searching for the right word, “useful.”
Litoc would have showered me with praises. To be fair, he was always appreciative. Many times, I’ve said and done things where I, to put in his terms, was drawing out of my ass. Yet he always found a way to connect one thing to another. Before I knew it my ideas would be the best damn thing he has ever heard.
Not Hanni. She was rarely given to complimenting others, or anything for that matter. She saw things according to her own rose-colored glasses so to speak and if the topic was something she was adept at, her comments became even more generic. We were talking about the assault on Riverhold hours ago.
Useful. I’ll take that.
“You mean I wasn’t the dashing leader who controlled the battlefield and led us to safety?”
“Don’t be silly. We were ambushed. We were all just trying to get away. You don’t as much sound as you used to though, more… silent. And your aim seems better if your life is on the line.”
“Ah. So, what you’re saying is, I need to go and hunt more bandits so I can become the best archer in the kingdom. A silent archer. A stealthy archer!”
I leaned on the wall of the station with my right hand and put the other on my waist while tilting my head and giving her a raised eyebrow. She scoffed. I must have looked ridiculous.
“You and the driver are alike. Making jokes in a time like this.”
“Don’t tell me you actually care about what happens in Osmouth?”
“I don’t.” She answered rather quickly. “But in case you have forgotten, it might not be over yet.”
Hanni sheathed a dagger into her makeshift baldric and pulled on the belt to test its fit.
“I haven’t, but the way I see it, we have today. Then the next day. Maybe another day if they allow it. And we’re heading back to Osea. With a little bit of weight to our purses if the new king be kind enough.”
“Don’t count on it. Royals are a fickle lot.”
Hanni stepped out the door. I caught sight of a line of soldiers waiting outside with torches. I held the door open just long enough to see half of them follow her. I saw her head tilt towards the closest soldier for a bit before they turned left.
“You two should rest, we have an early day tomorrow, it seems.”
Jibel and Vindeth perked up, disengaging from the pile of weapons on the table that seemed to enthrall them. Anyone who has, in their childhood, been excluded from family gatherings of adults and then included later knows the feeling. These kids absolutely loved being a part of the serious, grown up stuff.
“Where are you sleeping, ora?” Jibel asked.
“Here, probably. I’ll come get you in the morning.” I said, leading both by the shoulder around the table. “Sa!” I called at the soldier at the top of the stairs, “Escort these children to their quarters, will you?”
The soldier snapped to attention and gave me a nod. I went back to my seat, removed my belt and began filling the pouches with the spikes and balls. Tukru seemed to have finished his preparations and was walking towards the door.
“You’ll make better use of these.” I said to Tukru as I slid all the throwing knives in the pile to him.
He stopped then faced me.
“You would have me wield them, these… valuable weapons?”
“Don’t be like that. I already gave you knives and daggers didn’t I? Besides, you are a hundred times better at wielding them than I.”
“Brungarma, Jorj.” He nodded at me and started arranging the pile on the table. “How did you know, Jorj? About the gartutri.”
“Tlab, om-onnig orvkagap, Jorj?” Litoc echoed.
“I didn’t. I just noticed she winced, or flinched, when Hanni hit that stone thing.”
“Ah. Explains why ye asked ‘er ta do it again.”
“I wasn’t sure, to be honest, but I didn’t have time to think as well.”
“On the first attempt, I was confused,” Tukru’s deep voice followed, “she was near. I couldn’t have missed. It was obvious by the second try. I thought we would never be able to bring her down.”
“A shame too. Damn good shot, damn good call Jorj. But a shame.”
“I know. She must have been very valuable to the kingdom.”
“One o’ the best.”
“You knew her?”
“Lam. But she was guardin’ the next kin’. She could only be one o’ the best. Least that’s how they used ta do it.”
If that was so, I didn’t know which one was worse – having tried to defend the prince and die or guarding the king and queen and have them die under your watch. I could not imagine what punishments await the gartutri that failed at Osmouth.
“We could have avoided this,” I started warily, “if you just told me who you were.”
“I wonder when ye’d be sayin’ that.”
“Well, it’s true. When we learned Jibel was here, you could have just walked in, introduced yourself, then walk out with the child.”
“Take another drink ‘fore ye go,” he spoke, standing and placing a jug of wine, then a cup in front of Tukru, “’salong time ‘fore daybreak. It wasn’t goin’ ta work, Jorj. I thought ‘bout it an’ it wasn’t goin’ ta work.”
“Why not?”
“’cause the crown an’ the nobles ‘as customs regardin’ thin’s like this. I’d ‘ave been lucky ta just be turned away. The dungeons would ‘ave been the best outcome.”
“How in the world do you have customs for people claiming to be the prince, or the rightful king?”
“’snot only ‘bout that but its ‘bout that too. ‘twas a big thin’ way back, ‘fore I was born, or so I’m told. Men like other women, women like other men, royals an’ nobles alike. ‘fore long every door on every hold an’ every stal was full o’ basterds claiming stuff.”
“So, they just decided to lock them all up?”
“Eventually. Didn’t stop people from still knockin’ on castle doors though. I ‘eard there was quite a line at Bariststal when I vanished.”
“Any of them yours?”
“Unlikely. I mean, I fancied myself a good looking man in my youth, on account o’ the gaggle o’ ladies always followin’ me ‘round, or endin’ up in my bed. But that was a long time ‘fore I got… dispirited ‘bout my station.”
Of course you did.
“So, all of those who came to say you fathered a child were thrown into the dungeon.”
“Them an’ the children too, most likely.”
“That’s…” I paused. I meant to say horrible, but I noticed Litoc’s expression darkening. “Sa. For what it’s worth, I’m sorry for what happened to your folks.”
“’s’no need fer that Jorj. They’re not good people. ‘swhy I left. I mean, I’m not good people, but they’re worse.”
“Still, they were your parents.”
“I said my goodbyes when I left. I meant it.”
“You actually did that? Say goodbye?”
“Well, not like that but in a way. Ye knowin?”
“No. Not really.”
“Let’s just say by the time I left, they were knowin’ I meant what I said.”
This version Litoc was spinning created more questions than answers. There was the story at the inn with Medlan and Uti and the others, and now his, and it didn’t fit.
“Did you say you were going to kill yourself?” I asked, out of explanations.
“What? No! Where’d ye get that idea?”
“Well, Uti and the others did say the guild vanished you. That must have been the version of the story that was popular then. So, if the crown didn’t pursue it after you disappeared-”
“Let me tell ye somethin’ ‘bout Uti. ‘e was full o’ air. But ‘e wasn’t lyin’. That was the story people believed. ‘twas the story we spread after all.”
“Are you ever going to tell me why you left?” I asked, noticing he was leading me in circles. “Or about the guild?”
“Tell ye what, I’ll tell ye ‘bout the guild if ye tell me ‘bout ye. ‘ows that?”
“Whatever do you mean?”
“Ye can start by explainin’ ‘ow ye speak fluent khevernaki.”
Shit.
I could not blame the wine, I wasn’t nearly intoxicated enough for that. Litoc very casually slid khevernaki earlier and I responded without thinking of it.
This sly mother-
“’s’alright if ye don’t want ta tell me, yet. I can appreciate a secret that needs keepin’.”
Emphasis on one word. I could not decide if it was a threat or a promise to wait.
“You wouldn’t believe me if I tell you.”
“Marekata’s wavin’ waves Jorj, this again?”
“You didn’t believe me the first time.”
“Look, if yer sittin’ on a ‘oard o’ weapons worth the twelve kin’doms, I can understand why. No need ta make up a story o’ a giant kin’dom underground.”
“That’s the truth. Unless you seem to think that the old man was our accomplice the whole time.”
“Well, not that. Yer woman didn’t seem ta take kindly ta ‘is arrival. I can tell that much.”
“But he disappeared too, same as us.”
“’ow am I ‘posed to be wavin’ knowin’ what was goin’ on then. Combed the area, none of ye were there. Look, ‘s’alright. Tell me now, don’t tell me now, ‘s’fine.”
His demeanor said it was fine. His phrasing didn’t. I let the silence build while I considered actually telling him or not. He had secrets, why can’t I have secrets? Did I owe it to him? Maybe, but that was how I felt not what the situation demanded. It was a question of risks. I decided to take one for this man who went all the way with me without asking for anything back.
“There is no easy way to explain it Litoc for anything I say will sound, well, frankly, insane to you. I can tell you the short of it, I can tell you all of it. Both will sound absurd. But it’s the truth.”
“What’s the short story?”
“I just know it. I don’t know why. I just know. Like I know Silaronian. I didn’t even know I knew until the Prince spoke it. Even then, it took you pointing it out before I realized.”
“Ounit ou eta gn ub tuhul?”
“What’s that?” I asked.
“Do ye understand it Jorj?”
“Yes Litoc. Everything I said is true. Ub un uc etneitnic?”
“Annun’s wilted pecker!”
He exhaled loudly through his mouth while shaking his head, eyes like saucers. Litoc filled his cup to the brim and downed it in one go.
I understood it, just like the other languages, but now that I have heard it, I also recognized it wasn’t Khevernaki or Silaronian. For one, I could translate it to both languages.
“Ye still speak like a priest.” He started, “That was Ferdidian.”