Chapter 13
Chapter Thirteen
Iryana hated returning late from missions. Especially multi-day missions.
The manor’s hall, where most of the soldiers ate, was uncomfortable on the sunniest of days. Eyes always watching, people oblivious to any desire to be left alone. It was suffocating. But it was so much worse at night.
Eyes focused on the nearly finished dinner in front of her, Iryana tried her hardest to ignore everyone else.
She just had to finish her food, get her payment, and get out.
Dinner was at least better than usual, the cooks less worried about using up their stores with spring upon them.
Reluctantly, she had to admit she was enjoying the meal: savory dumplings stuffed with salted meats in a broth with boiled barley and pickled cucumbers.
It had been days since she had truly been alone, and being around the others seemed to grate on her more as time went on. By the end of her missions, she was a tense mess. She was looking forward to later that night when she could sneak away.
She’d joined her team for dinner, like she usually tried to do, but she was so close to the end of her rope.
“Got the goods,” Vabihn announced as he approached their table, hefting high the small sack of clinking coins as if it were far more impressive than it was.
Shoving the last dumpling into her mouth, Iryana shoved her bowl back. Finally.
The rest of their team sat around the table still finishing their dinner, while a few had already started drinking. Her roommate in particular. At least the captain was absent.
“Staying for a drink?” Vaneshta asked, like she had every night they ended up in the hall together.
Perhaps it would help her cause, but she just couldn’t do it. Couldn’t give up her morning peace, couldn’t stand the suffocating energy of the hall when they all started drinking.
Eventually, Vaneshta would stop asking.
“Sorry.” Iryana shook her head. “I like to be up before the sun.”
It was an excuse that worked well enough, although she usually snuck out as soon as Vaneshta returned and then finished the night elsewhere once she was done with her tasks.
Vaneshta nodded, unsurprised, and took her share from Vabihn, weighing it carefully in her hand.
Iryana’s foot bounced relentlessly under the table as she watched Vabihn hand out the coins to the others. As soon as hers was in hand, she could escape the suffocating room.
When the large man got to her, he paused.
“You know, Gyena.” Vabihn tapped his chin as if considering her, and Iryana nearly groaned. He only used the guardian honorific when he was about to give her a hard time. “If you don’t want to celebrate our hard work, perhaps we should use your share for more vodka. Do the celebrating for you.”
“Vabihn, please just give me my share,” she ordered. The payment could be traded for extra supplies or rations within the fort, and she needed to replace the dagger she had traded back at the water settlement.
“Hmm, nope.” Vabihn tucked the pouch into his pocket, raising his brows at her in challenge.
It wasn’t a friendly look. She knew Vabihn wasn’t trying to get to know her or get her to let loose. He wasn’t the sort. He bothered her when he got bored, which wasn’t a good pair with how stubborn he was.
She didn’t want him to think he could bully her, but she was too exhausted to argue and needed the money. “What do you want, Sen Vabihn.” She hoped the proper address would soften him up.
He grinned, his eyes wide with excitement. “You’re going to drink with us.”
“YES!” Vanestha cheered, standing up so fast her vodka sloshed over the side of her cup.
A soldier from a table further down the row pointed at Vanestha and laughed, face already flushed from drinking.
“You think you can laugh at me?” Vaneshta growled, gesturing for the man to sit across from her. “I’ll slam your face onto the table!”
“Well?” Vabihn asked Iryana, ignoring the others. “Are you funding our drinks or enjoying them with us?”
Iryana finally looked around the room. Vodka and fermented sap wine were being passed around.
One corner of the room held a crowd of soldiers cheering on a fistfight while others bet on a winner.
The back side of the room had a mix of dice games and couples hanging all over each other.
People seemed as likely to fight as to get propositioned for a fun night.
She really didn’t want to stay; she was a ball of tension and exhaustion, but she really needed to buy a new dagger.
And Vaneshta had been so excited at the idea of her staying…
“Fine,” she grumbled, sending the table into a round of cheers.
Vabihn went to secure a few bottles for their table while Iryana watched Vaneshta arm wrestle with the man she had challenged.
She was now only wearing a sleeveless undershirt.
Vaneshta was not an overly tall or large woman, but every inch of her was hard muscle.
That was impossible to doubt as her arms and shoulders flexed with effort, fighting against the man.
Iryana’s eyes were drawn to that arm, not because of the muscles, but because of the tattoos wrapping around it.
She had seen glimpses of metal-forged tattoos on her family members.
Her father had liked to flaunt his, especially in the later years.
There was something sharp and unnatural about them that those of other forged-types lacked.
Vaneshta’s forging tattoo seemed to begin around her upper arm, where the purple-gray lines were so thick they seemed like a band.
From there, the metal symbols seemed to spread out across her shoulder and arm like layers of scales.
It almost looked like it was protecting her.
“There ya go!” Vabihn announced, minorly startling her as he dropped a cup in front of her and started pouring the clear liquid into it.
She lifted it to her lips and sniffed. The vodka itself didn’t smell like much, but the cherry and cinnamon it had been flavored with were pleasant enough. She sighed and tilted it back.
It wasn’t good vodka; it burned her throat on the way down, her mouth and stomach warming. The tangy sweetness of cherries and spicy bite of cinnamon made the drink somewhat tolerable.
“How do guardians party?” Pepha asked, peering over Vaneshta.
Shahn and Mezhimar glanced up from their game. Mezhimar was quiet, carefully considering each turn, while Shahn seemed disinterested and bored.
Iryana shrugged, not wanting to talk about her family. “Drinking, music, dancing, I guess. Same as everyone, though more reserved than, uh, here. There’s not much time for it though.”
Over Pepha’s shoulder, Iryana saw a couple move against the shadow-covered wall.
Her eyes flicked to the movement just long enough to realize what she was looking at.
The woman’s legs were wrapped around the man’s waist, her mouth latched to his neck, while he thrust against her.
They were mostly clothed, but it was obvious what they were doing.
Iryana looked back at the cup in her hands. It wasn’t that she was prudish—she’d certainly had a few dalliances of her own—but back home things like that were done behind closed doors.
It was interesting, though, how far away proper society seemed to be in a place like this.
Guardians were meant to be looked up to and relied on, role models and idols that the people could trust. Even now, they kept to those same strict expectations of what was acceptable and what was not.
She had known the military had lost sight of morality and honor, but it was still surprising how easily they seemed to have shed society’s expectations.
Here, sex wasn’t taboo or kept behind closed doors.
Courting and betrothals seemed to have been long forgotten, and while some still chose to marry, it wasn’t required to live together or have children.
No one seemed to bat an eye at men with men or women with women either.
Back home, having a partner of the same sex had only been acceptable as a private, short-term fling; you couldn’t marry them or acknowledge them in society.
Especially in ketsan society. But in the fort, no one seemed to care.
While she would have preferred all couples kept their dalliances to private spaces, there were some positives to the lack of rules.
She had noticed how her cousin Levek watched the young male volunteers that came to their post, and suspected he was more attracted to men, but it wasn’t something he would be able to fully embrace as a guardian.
Iryana dreaded the day the First pushed Levek to find a wife.
Maybe things would change one day, but guardians held their traditions close.
“They clearly don’t party like us,” Vabihn was saying to Pepha, eyeing the couple against the wall. “I’ve always heard they were too stuck-up for a good time.”
Iryana couldn’t bring herself to respond. She didn’t find the way soldiers partied to be pleasant. Too loud, too violent, and too crude.
Shahn looked up from his game, though, laughing. Then his eyes grew wide.
Iryana tensed, wondering where the danger was. But it was only a girl of perhaps fifteen. She bounded up to Shahn, her two braids swinging across her back.
“What are you doing out this late, Lyona!” Shahn demanded, looking more alive than Iryana had seen him in the almost month she’d known him.
“I finished training late, and I’m hungry.”
“You’re too young to be in the hall this late.”
Iryana silently agreed with Shahn, watching their exchange awkwardly.
Lyona pouted. “I’m almost sixteen. And it’s not like it’s anything I’ve never seen before!”
“No,” Shahn ordered. “We’ll take back food. I’ll eat with you.”
Her face lit up, but instead of letting him usher her out immediately, Lyona grabbed the closest drink at the table and threw the whole thing back. It just happened to be Iryana’s.
“Now we can go!” Lyona giggled, leaving Shahn to gather their stuff.