“And Ceidir?”
He stared deep into the flames. “Don’t know. I haven’t been back in a long time.”
She understood not wanting to talk about personal memories. “How about Hjeva? You said that’s where 840 is from.”
“You know, he probably doesn’t mind if you call him Ginger. It might even make you seem friendlier.” She was about to object when he smiled. “Just kidding. Sort of.” She frowned, and he laughed. “As for Hjeva, I don’t know, I’ve never been. There’s enough to see and do in Vaska, though. Alt Võina alone is large enough to last you a while if you just want to see somewhere new. Watch your purse once we get there. There are plenty of people who’ll take it from you first chance they get.”
Like you. She kept the thought to herself. They were talking, and she was only a little annoyed with him. Progress was progress.
War demands we make impossible choices, kill one hundred so one thousand might live. No one’s mind is prepared for such a choice or its consequences.
I did what I had to do. May you have the strength to do the same, should circumstances ever demand it.
Chapter 20
Doran
Doran stared into their campfire. What could he tell her? There were stories meant to frighten children, and then there was the truth. Neither represented Vaska or Ceidir well. If she’d never left her village before, Ceidir’s bloody history probably wasn’t the best starting point. He chose something in between.
“In Ceidir, the land is always green. Legend has it the country is ruled by dragons, who look down on the people from their thrones in the mountains.”
Naavah Ora snorted. It had been worth a try. A little more truth then. “I’ve never even seen a dragon, but there are still a lot of people who worship them.”
“You worship dragons?”
“You worship the queen of the dead.” Naavah Ora opened her mouth to object, but he cut her off. “There are many religions in this world, yours is just the most complicated. Ceidir still believes in dragons, Vaska doesn’t believe in anything far as I know, and your people believe in how many gods? Three?”
“Nine.”
He coughed. “Nine? What do you need nine gods for?”
If Naavah Ora was offended, she didn’t show it. He was making progress. “Each has a different purpose. Ellasan was the first, she’s the Mother Goddess. Islirrin and Meviris are the twin sisters of night and day, or darkness and light. Llian’In watches over our hunters and guides them to their prey. Lyrinaan is revered by our artists as the Goddess of inspiration. Alharys is the God of love and compassion, and Naverys the Goddess of magic. Valynaan watches over our warriors and leads them into battle, but she expects unwavering loyalty in return. And I’ve already told you about Ithrean.”
“I hope you don’t expect me to remember all this?”
She actually smiled at him. “No. I knew your human brain wouldn’t be able to comprehend it.”
“Did you just make a joke?” He hadn’t thought her the type to make jokes, and by the way she blushed and looked away he knew he’d been right before. She was opening up. Doran grinned. Angry spirits aside, this night wasn’t bad!
“Tell me about this city we’re going to. Alt Võina.”
“It’s big, it’s noisy, and it has the best fences in all of Vaska. Unless you can get to the old capital near the sea, Kuuldam. Their fences have better prices.”
“Fences?”
She wouldn’t like this, but she’d asked. “People who buy stolen goods.”
Naavah Ora scowled. “You were going to take my people’s relics to one of those?”
“No,” he said. “There are merchants in Alt Võina who specialise in ancient relics. They’d have fought over what I found in that forest.”
“Then I’m glad my grandmother took them off you. They belong with my people, not with some dirty, back-alley merchant.”
He was losing her; he wasn’t done prodding. “Do you like sweets?”
“Like honeyed bread?”
“Sure, but better. In Alt Võina, there’s a shop that sells those sweet, flat cakes called pancakes with all different toppings.”
“I’ve never heard of such a thing.” Naavah Ora feigned disinterest, but he had her. She hid a smile behind her lips.
“Then I’ll introduce you. You’ll like them.” He hoped it would wipe that frown off her face too.
“Do you miss Ceidir?”
“What?” The change in subject was so abrupt he hadn’t seen it coming. And she’d changed it to his homeland, of all things.
“Ceidir?” she asked again. “That’s where you’re from, isn’t it?”
He shrugged. He wasn’t ready to talk about it, or think about it. “It doesn’t matter. We won’t be going that way.” He had to remember that she hadn’t asked him about Cairdh. He had nothing against Ceidir as a whole. “I rent a small room in this small town, Dìrlein.” He’d often wondered why he kept paying for it if being so close to his parents’ house made him uncomfortable. One day he’d give it more thought, maybe, but not today.
“Do you have a big family?”
“No.”
She left it at that, and for once he was grateful for her silence. He knew she only asked because her own family was close to one another, but he wasn’t prepared to explain things to her or himself. It was bad enough he saw Rhys’s face every time he closed his eyes.
“What does Ceidir think of magic? My grandmother said not all countries embrace it like we do.”
He raised an eyebrow. “We’re what you might call ‘religiously suspicious’ of it.”
“Why?”
So they’d arrived at Ceidir’s bloody history, after all.
“A long time ago, we practised magic like every other country. Our king took it too far, though. He experimented with living people, children, animals—you name it, he sacrificed it. Then one day he disappeared, and magic became this dark thing we don’t talk about.”
She frowned. “He just disappeared and no one questioned why?”
Doran shrugged. “’course we did, but it wasn’t like we had anything to go on. There was no body we could examine. He took meticulous notes, but they were encrypted and honestly, no one wanted to read about the evil things he’d done in gory detail.”
“That’s a little naïve, isn’t it? Bad things don’t just go away if you pretend they aren’t there.”
“Well, he did. He vanished, stayed away, and the rest of the country was glad his reign was over. He ruined magic for us while he was at it. Ceallach an Eòlas was one evil bastard.”
She paled, her eyes wide. He could almost see her heart miss a beat.
“Something I said?”
She shook her head, but she looked like she’d jumped into a frozen river.
“It’s nothing. We’d better get some sleep, we’ve got a long journey ahead.”
“But—"
“Good night.”
She turned away from him, and that was that. They’d made so much progress tonight he didn’t want to undo it, but the look on her face chilled him to his core. He wouldn’t push her tonight. Maybe never—once they went their separate ways in Alt Võina, he supposed there was no need—but if she looked this disturbed again he’d demand answers.