Chapter 13 #2
Instead of seeming upset, Shahn smiled so openly at the girl that Iryana almost couldn’t decipher the expression.
Maybe he didn’t care about most things, but he certainly cared about his sister.
“Sorry, man.” Shahn called back to Mezhimar as he left the room, hand on his sister’s back as he gently led her.
Mezhimar sighed at their unfinished game.
Vaneshta leaned over and refilled Iryana’s cup. “He’s going to age early if he keeps fussing over that sister of his,” she said with a laugh.
Iryana nodded slightly, just because it seemed the easiest thing to do. But she thought it was good to be protective of family. She hoped Hadima fussed at least as much over Misha.
Chasing off that train of thought, Iryana took a long sip of her vodka.
She was feeling warm and buzzy, which helped a bit to fight off the tightness of the room.
A series of cheers exploded from the other side of the room, Iryana turning to see a scuffle break out between two soldiers.
It wasn’t the orderly match that had been going on before; this was a proper fight.
One man shouted curses, claiming some sort of offense that Iryana couldn’t quite parse.
The other two tackled him, someone grabbing a stool and raising it.
“Whoo!” Vabihn cheered, standing with muscles tensed as if he wanted to join in.
Pepha sighed, grimacing. “They’re making such a mess.” And they were, the table getting bumped hard enough that a few plates and cups had ended up on the floor, stew and vodka being dragged around beneath the fighters’ feet.
“They’d be running laps early tomorrow morning if I were their captain,” Vaneshta grumbled.
“Their captain will probably reward them,” Vabihn laughed. “Darish certainly would.”
Iryana didn’t doubt it, given how much she’d seen others get away with.
She took another sip, another wave of burning tumbling down her throat, and watched those watching the fight. It would be good to note the faces that seemed to like this kind of display.
The alcohol had blunted the sharpest bits of her discomfort, panic no longer crawling at her neck.
The room grew quiet as the fight eventually finished, the two sides slinking off back to their tables. One soldier’s face was bloodied, but he didn’t seem bothered.
Vabihn sat down with a disappointed huff.
“What idiots.” Vaneshta shook her head back and forth, lips pursed. Iryana had to agree with her; it was a waste if they were injured and had to recover. A strain on the entire post.
“Actually, Sena, I think you’d beat them to a pulp for that, not make them do laps,” Pepha pointed out.
Iryana half expected Pyetar to storm in and do just that. Her eyes flickered to the door, but he was nowhere in sight. He was out on a mission, most likely; she hadn’t seen him since they got back.
“It’d teach them a lesson,” Vaneshta agreed with a vicious smile on her face.
“You’ll get your opportunity soon,” Vabihn chuckled.
Iryana raised her eye at that.
“Did you know our dear Vaneshta is a lady?” Pepha cackled. “She’ll be promoted soon; everyone knows it.”
Vaneshta snorted, downing her drink, before shooting a glare around the table. “If you ever call me ‘lady,’ I will shove my foot up your ass.”
Iryana blinked. Vaneshta looked nothing like one of the ketsan. Unrefined, unpolished, and there was nothing noble about her drunken slouch. But the thought of Vaneshta dressed like one of the ketsan brought a smile to Iryana’s lips.
“Still, it’s good for her to know she’s with social superiors,” Pepha teased quietly. “What if we defeat the dakii and the ketsan take their old roles back, Iryana would look super stupid if she addressed a—”
“The dakii aren’t going anywhere,” Vaneshta interrupted. “And guardian families are ketsan, too. She’s practically a lady herself. She’s another of your social superiors.”
Pepha gasped at that, a worried glint in her eye, but Vabihn burst out laughing and Mezhimar cracked an actual smile. Pepha’s worry softened into fake horror.
Iryana realized she was still smiling. Their teasing, the jokes, it felt easy for the first time.
A young soldier walked past, his walk and smirk competing for cockiness. Mezhimar jerked forward as the man’s elbow slammed into his shoulder. Mezhimar’s jaw tightened, but he kept his eyes down and stayed silent.
Pepha’s eyes followed the random soldier who was laughing as he walked away, a scared look on her face.
Her own smile fell away too.
Iryana wasn’t really friends with Mezhimar, but she hated bullies. The desire to stand up for him lit a simmering rage in her gut, but she couldn’t risk acting on it. Her hand clenched tightly around her glass as she took a long gulp.
She had almost been having fun for a moment there, but the true nature of the surrounding soldiers of the 18th came crashing down.
She was tired of this place. Tired of these people.
“I had a few drinks,” Iryana pointed out, holding up her empty drink for Vabihn to see. “All good?”
“Mmm?” He rubbed his chin. “Almost.” Then he filled her cup back up, some of the pour ending up on the table.
Iryana was questioning whether her coins were worth this torture when a woman came up behind Vabihn, wrapping her arms around his shoulders. She was beautiful, short and soft, with curling blond hair loosely pulled back and eyes that gleamed with joy.
Vabihn smiled, pulling the woman around to sit on his lap. “Where’s the wee one?” he asked her.
“With my sister.”
“Good.” He offered the woman that must be his wife his cup, a loving smile on her face.
Iryana blinked. She knew her teammate had been married, but somehow the interaction still surprised her.
“So,” Pepha squeaked, eyeing Iryana. “You met both the Horvol brothers before coming here, right? What is Sen Pyetar like with the guardians?”
“I bet they dread his visits,” Vabihn laughed.
Tipping the wooden cup back, Iryana took a few large gulps, a wave of numbness almost immediately rolling over her.
Iryana shrugged, feigning nonchalance. “I don’t spend much time at the main house, but my family definitely hates him.” She hoped that would be enough, but they kept staring at her expectantly. “I’ve seen him rough my cousin up, heard of the threats he gave the rest of the family.”
Vaneshta seemed to consider that, expression too contemplative for her sobriety level. “He’s a bit rough, but he is reliable.”
Iryana suppressed her shudder.
“How would we know if he’s rough?” a voice slurred out from another table, coming from a woman that was straddling another soldier. “He is so stuffy, never joins in.”
It took Iryana a moment to realize what the woman meant by “rough”, but the others at her table immediately started laughing. She blamed the alcohol for making her head fuzzy. But she considered it with the excessive attention of someone too far in their cups.
Given how tense Pyetar seemed all the time, he could probably stand to join in with the others occasionally. Maybe he was such an asshole because he was sexually deprived. Iryana had to hide a smile at the thought.
The woman looked like she was going to continue, but the man she was on top of pinched her ass, seeming to regain her attention. In the pause that followed, Iryana realized she could try to take advantage of the turn in conversation.
“The soldiers who visit the posts sell stuff too, right? Like the Beast’s Poppy?” Iryana made sure to keep her voice casual despite how tight her throat was.
Her teammates seemed to focus on her. All but Vabihn, who was whispering in his wife’s ear while she blushed, her hands pawing at his chest.
“The sale and use of the Beast’s Poppy is forbidden in all but the most vital scenarios,” Vaneshta said sternly, as if Iryana had asked for some. “The general and the King Commander have forbidden it, so don’t claim anyone is peddling unless you have proof.”
The others seemed tense, and Iryana realized they were probably all scared of Pyetar and didn’t want to be associated with her accusations.
“Good to know,” Iryana said tightly. “But who is the King Commander?”
Mezhimar groaned at her question, but Vaneshta answered.
“He was general of another brigade, but he’s been pulling others under his control as an alliance of sorts.
Calls himself the King Commander. Far as I know, he hasn’t officially brought the 18th in, but he’s declared the entire Lasharye Highlands as his territory. ”
A united military was not a pleasant thought.
“No one knows how the general is going to respond,” Pepha chimed in as she tugged at her dark hair.
“We’ll worry about it when we have to,” Vaneshta said calmingly.
“So,” Iryana forced herself to continue her questioning. “Where does the poppy come from? Who is selling it?”
Vabihn was watching her now, face hard, while Pepha looked around anxiously and shrunk her slender body into her seat as if to avoid notice.
“It doesn’t come from the 18th,” Vaneshta answered eventually, voice unnaturally even. “And if it does, whoever is doing it will be banished or killed if found out. I suggest you don’t ask about it again.”
Iryana nodded quickly. The others changed the subject, not asking her any more questions, which was for the best, as her head was spinning.
If the poppy was officially banned, it made sense that she hadn’t seen it in the delivery she had made with her team to the water village.
It probably wasn’t sold in any official capacity, which was an immense relief.
It meant she would be unlikely to have to work with it.
But the poppy was being sold, so if it wasn’t something the brigade was doing, it was likely a smaller operation run by a few individuals.
Perhaps individuals who could move freely through the territory and meet with the settlements in private… like the specialists. Like Pyetar.