The Winds of Khalakovo - Bradley P. Beaulieu [78]
She laid the baby back down as quickly as she’d picked her up, to the confused looks of Gierten. Then she made her excuses and left, unable to stare Gierten in the eye any longer.
It had been so simple. Soroush dealt with death often; perhaps it came easily to him. But it was shocking just how much this simple act shook Rehada. By the time she had reached the path leading back to the road between Izhny and Volgorod, she was running, her tears flowing freely.
CHAPTER 21
Atiana stood before the tall windows in Radiskoye’s solarium, staring at the maelstrom raging outside. Cold rain fell down along the thick glass in heavy sheets. Lightning flashed. In the ghostly image that quickly faded she could see the blinding brilliance of a dhoshahezhan. They often slipped into the world for split seconds during lightning strikes, but it seemed to her that there were many more than one would normally see. The unseasonable storm had settled over the islands two nights ago and hadn’t budged since. It had brought life on the island, especially the palotza, to a standstill. Father and several of the other dukes thought it strange timing after the suurahezhan, but Khalakovo’s Matra claimed it was benign, a coincidence.
“As likely a coincidence as Stasa’s death,” Father had said. But their own wind master, Kaeed, doubted Saphia was lying. Father’s reply had been to send Kaeed away and to recount all the ways he’d been wrong over the years.
Each of the families had been given their own wing of the palotza, but the solarium had become a council chamber of sorts for those dukes that stood behind Zhabyn and Grigory in this slowly building crisis. Borund and Grigory were sitting on a curving couch, listening to Duke Leonid boast about his son’s exploits over the southern seas.
She returned her attention to the skies, drawn to the lightning and the ghostly images, losing herself as the chill from the windows settled over her skin.
“You’ll catch your death.” Borund came to a halt next to her. In one hand he held a snifter filled with a healthy amount of rosemary vodka, which he handed to her before wrapping an arm around her shoulders. He was warm, and it felt good to be held.
She took a sip, feeling the pleasant burn trail down her throat. “Then you’ll just have to protect me,” she said, handing the snifter back.
“Don’t I always?” Borund replied.
Atiana smiled and tipped her head until it rested on his shoulder. “Soon you won’t have to.”
Borund went silent and deathly still.
“He will be my husband, Borund.”
“Things are not so clear as they were a week ago.”
“How surprising you’ve sided with Father.”
“This Council smells foul, Tiana. I know you sense it too.”
Atiana pulled away and faced him. He wore a brown kaftan, and his beard had grown longer, giving him the look of a scowling bear.
“Why are men so distrustful?”
“Because there’s always trouble about, especially when you’re not looking for it.”
Atiana reached up and smoothed the cloth of his kaftan. “Don’t think it isn’t appreciated, but really, I think there’s little enough to worry about.”
“There you’re wrong, sister. Trouble has come, and it’s already started to simmer. Father has ordered two more ships sent to Khalakovo.”
Atiana’s brow creased. “What of Leonid and Bolgravya?”
“Them as well.”
“Why?”
“To prevent Khalakovo from dictating terms.”
“They’ve done nothing of the sort.”
“Tiana, just because a dog has never bitten you is no reason to believe it won’t someday do so. It’s why you put them on a leash and whip them when they misbehave.”
“This is madness. Everything will be resolved shortly.”
“If that is so, then the ships will be sent home. No harm done.”
“Perhaps no harm, but certainly insult. Saphia will learn of it.”
Borund shrugged. “The offense to Khalakovo is a risk we’re willing to take.”
“We are guests