The Winds of Khalakovo - Bradley P. Beaulieu [175]
Atiana reached up and grasped the body of the rook, pinning the wings tight. “If you’ve only come to chide me”—she moved toward the open window—“then I’d rather be alone.”
The bird pecked at her hand. Atiana ignored it until blood was drawn from her knuckle, at which point she flung the rook away. It flapped to the floor and hopped back up to its previous position on the uppermost bunk. “So defensive, sister. I’d have thought you’d be glad to have company aboard a ship like this.”
“Not if all you’re offering are barbs.”
The rook cawed. “Barbs aside, I did want to make sure you were healthy and hale. We were worried.”
Atiana laughed. It was as close to an apology as she was going to get from Ishkyna. “You can see well enough I’ve made it through the war alive.”
“War... This is hardly more than posturing, Tiana. A rustling of feathers.”
“Says the woman speaking from the depths of Galostina.”
“Well, since you’re in the thick of it, why don’t you share with your dear sister what you were about? Surely the need for secrecy has passed—or are those pretty lips still sealed?”
Atiana could ill afford to give her sister too much, so she gave bits and pieces: her time in Radiskoye, her escape through the sea, the mad dash through Volgorod and the explosion at the bridge—only enough of what really happened to appease her and only because she had to give information in order to get it.
“And what now?” Atiana asked when she was done. “What has happened to the eyrie?”
“If you couldn’t guess by my presence, the eyrie is ours.”
“And Radiskoye?”
“It has been left intact for the time being. The attack on the eyrie was largely symbolic. The true threats are the ships massing near Mirkotsk.”
“Then why take it now?”
“To pressure Khalakovo to step down peaceably. Father has said that he would accept a written declaration of fault, a ceding of his seat to Ranos, and a grant of a dozen ships.”
“Iaros will never agree to that.”
“Don’t be so sure. No one wants war, least of all the most remote of the Duchies. Rhavanki and Khazabyirsk have been even harder struck by the blight than we have, and Lhudansk practically begged Khalakovo to settle this before Father left. The only Duchy that has any strength of will and the canvas to back it up is Mirkotsk, but even they would stop beating the drums of war if an opportunity for peace presented itself. Khalakovo knows this, and even if he does urge for an attack, he knows it may push Lhudansk to step down, and if one goes, all will follow.”
“You underestimate Saphia. She is a persuasive woman.”
The rook bobbed its head up and down, releasing a ragged call. It sounded more than a little like Ishkyna’s grating laugh. “You have not seen much of her since the attack, Tiana. She is feeble now, both in heart and in mind. She can hardly take the dark for more than a few hours at a time.”
This was surprising and unsettling news. Atiana had thought Saphia a woman who would never weaken, never break. But perhaps her ordeal with Nasim had been more taxing than she would have guessed.
“Shkyna, I need your help.”
The bird flapped its wings, a small loss of control by the inexperienced Ishkyna at this sudden and perhaps unexpected request for help. “What could a young bride need from an old matron like me?”
“Do not jest. My need is great.”
The rook stared at her for a long time. Its eyes blinked, as if Ishkyna were trying to measure the truth in her words but was having difficulty through the foreign eyes of the rook. It reminded Atiana of Ishkyna so much that she felt suddenly homesick, and the cumulative weight of the events since she had arrived on Khalakovo threatened to bury her. She nearly cried, but this was not a time for such a thing. She needed now more than ever to keep her mind to the task at hand.
“I need you to speak with the kapitan. I need you to tell him that we are to return to Duzol and for him to leave me there.”
“And why would the kapitan believe...