Chapter 8 #2
“You know, David, I think I hear my father calling for us.” Khazak steps backward, hand on my shoulder to pull me with him.
I snort a laugh because no, he didn’t, but go along with him anyway.
I’ll see Jarek and Ayla at the dinner table, and the info I learned about Khazak as a teen will keep me entertained for quite a while.
We enter the home’s large kitchen together.
I see one of Khazak’s fathers, Orlun (who he and Ayla seem to “take after”), standing over a large grill near an open window.
Yogik is next to him, helping to move things from a plate to the grill while his father watches.
Khazak’s other father, Rurig, is going back and forth between two stoves, each covered in pots and pans, as well as grabbing whatever spices or other additions he needs from one of the many shelves and counters in the room.
It’s very warm, but it smells amazing in here.
“Oh good, you are back.” Rurig looks over after noticing our entrance.
He points at me. “You, over here.” Stepping over to the round orc, he stands me in front of one of the stoves, pushing the wooden spoon from one of the pots into my hand.
“Stir.” He then turns and starts talking to his son quickly in Atasi, putting him to work as well.
The whole scene in here reminds me so much of home.
Me and Mikey helping mom with dinner or being on kitchen duty at the academy.
Everyone talking and laughing while the head chef (or mom) gives the orders.
Even though I can’t understand what they’re saying, I can still hear the love in their voices, even when they’re grumbling at each other.
Shit, is this actually making me homesick?
Whatever it is I’m stirring smells pretty good.
It’s some sort of sauce, red in color and smelling vaguely of tomatoes.
Rurig occasionally comes by to add something else to the pot, dipping a pinky in to sample afterward.
Over on a counter to the left, Khazak is carving into some sort of roast he pulled from the oven a few minutes ago, and it looks like Yogik is now taking things off the grill. Dinner should be ready soon.
When things are finished, Rurig starts handing the completed dishes to Khazak, Yogik, and me to bring out to the dinner table.
Jarek and the others are already seated, and fifteen minutes later, Rurig’s said his form of a blessing and all of us are eating our fill.
That sauce I was stirring ended up going over some really well-cooked chicken. I’m gonna miss this food when I’m gone.
“David, how has working with the rangers been?” Orlun’s question catches me off guard. Since Ayla’s been home for a few weeks now, there’s less of a conversation buffer to protect me.
“It’s been...good.” I feel like I said that weird. I mean, it has been, right?
“David has been quite the asset.” Khazak takes over for me as he reaches over to squeeze my leg.
Phew. “The other week he actually chased down a fleeing suspect all on his own, and he’s been learning Atasi in his free time,” he brags.
I’m also the reason that all four walls surrounding the station have had permanent alarm runes etched into them, but he doesn’t mention that.
“You know, when I was just starting my position as captain, we had a kavan/avakesh pair working together on the force.” Orlun looks between the two of us.
“They were quite skilled at undercover investigations. They had this system...” He pauses, trying to think of something.
“Khazak, what was it that Ragnar called it when he heard the story?”
“A ‘honeypot,’ I believe.” Khazak’s response sounds wary for some reason.
Orlun claps his hands together. “That was it—a honeypot. The avakesh, she would act as ‘bait’ for their targets, making friends or flirting to gather information. She was quite beautiful and could immediately disarm someone with her charm. Once they had what they needed, her kavan would walk out of the shadows, and they would take the suspects down together. The two of them once managed to infiltrate and arrest an entire smuggling ring on their own with zero casualties. I was always very impressed with their work.”
“Yes, Orda, we have all heard the stories.” Aww, I haven’t. Then Khazak turns to me. “Do not get any ideas,” Khazak warns me with a laugh. Too late.
Later, when we’re walking home (with a full stack of leftovers), I recall some of what Ayla and Jarek were saying about Khazak “connecting” with the other Khazak’s story. It’s obviously important to him.
“How come you never told me the story of Khazak and Vakesh before?” Unless he’s been planning the surprise for that long?
“Actually... I did try to, once.” He looks over at me with a grimace. “It was the night of your last escape attempt. There was a book I started to read...”
I wince as the memory of the night comes flooding back. I remember Khazak reading a book about an orc warrior, right before I drugged him with some hypnograss and tried to break my friends out of jail.
“I’m sorry,” I apologize almost without thinking. Not that it isn’t deserved.
“It is alright, David. I think we are passed all that now, right?” He looks over for confirmation.
“Maybe we can try reading it again some time?” I would actually like to know more about them. I wonder how much detail it goes into regarding the sexy parts.
“I would like that.” He smiles, nodding his head once.
“It must have been kinda cool to find out who you were named after as a kid.” I’m pretty sure he’s one of the statues we’ve passed in front of the tribal hall.
“I have a question.” Khazak raises one hand slightly. “Was ‘Khazak’ the only shared name you heard last weekend?”
“...Yes?” This feels like a trap.
“Do you remember the name of the festival? In Atasi.” It doesn’t sound like he’s mocking me.
“Uh, it’s...” Shit, I know this, we just talked about it a week ago. It’s... “Chad Uzugir?”
“Close. ‘Shatu Uzu’gor,’” Khazak corrects me. “Now, do you remember what my last name is, also in Atasi?”
“I...” I know this one too. It’s on the tip of my tongue. I think it might be... No, that can’t be right. “Is... Is it the same word?”
“Also close. Very close.” He looks pleased. “It is ‘Uzi’gor.’” Wait, what?
“You know it sounds like you’re saying the same thing, right?” I hope I’m not hearing things again.
“That is because I essentially am.” I am so confused.
“So, your family has the same name as the festival?” It kind of makes sense—his grandfathers are at the center of it. “I can’t believe I missed something like that.”
“Actually...” Uh oh. “That is also the name of the battle that tied us together. The Nagul Uzu’gor.” What.
“I’m not dumb!” I blurt out, an old reflex of mine I thought died years ago.
“I did not think you were,” he tries to assure me. “They are foreign words you have only heard a handful of times. I understand why you would not make the connection.”
“Does that mean this whole thing, the ritual, the festival, is important to your family?” It is named after them, after all.
“No, not particularly.” Khazak shrugs. “For one, the names are not actually identical. ‘Uzu’gor’ literally translates to ‘steel and thunder,’ while ‘Uzi’gor’ is a stylized surname meaning ‘Ironstorm.’ We are more than proud of our lineage—my father could boast about being related to Khazak Steelrun all day—but as far as I am aware, I am the only living relative with any actual interest in owning an avakesh.
Which is probably a good thing as once I learned about the more intimate aspects of their relationship, I am not sure I would have wanted to ask a family member any of my questions. ”
“That’s a good point.” I wonder if finding out about Khazak and Vakesh’s relationship was weird for anyone else in the family. “So, how did you learn about it?”
“Books.” That seems like him. Nerd. “Though my family figured out my interests easily enough as I got older.”
“Yeah, your sister and Jarek mentioned something like that.” I’ll spare him the reminder about his first collar. “Even they seemed surprised that you hadn’t told me about any of it. Why didn’t you?”
“Because it is embarrassing, David,” he scoffs and rolls his eyes.
“I was a moody and hormonal teenager who became childishly fixated on a four-hundred-year-old story. It affected all of my early relationships and still brings up a lot of memories that make me wince when I think on them. Not to mention how overly romanticized the story is. That play is not even close to accurate.”
“How do you mean?” I figured some of the play was made up, but the basic story must be the same.
“They were practically mortal enemies when they first met. That is not something two people just get over.” Good point—near-death experience notwithstanding. “The things Khazak put Vakesh through would make anything I could possibly do to you look like a walk in the park.”
“What did the play get right?” I know they ended up together, at least.
“Well, though it is very condensed, the first half of the play is not wholly inaccurate. It took the two of them many months before they actually began to warm up to one another, and there are actual written accounts of the bear attack,” he starts explaining.
“The second half though is where a lot of things are invented or changed for the sake of drama. Vakesh’s brother Tark’han had no idea he had survived the strike on the Proudhunter’s camp.
There was no ambush waiting for Riktal’s men, nor any plan to get Khazak to turn on Vakesh.
It was wholly a surprise when they showed up in the camp that night. ”