378 278 – Strength

Whatever my advantage in strength, it was more than countered by numbers and gravity. There was much grunting, and repositioning, and two kneecaps to my kidneys (the second one with actual feeling behind it) while the seven of us came to this mutual understanding.

“Are you CERTAIN you have him this time?” Harrek asked.

“More certain than last time.” one of the soldiers replied.

“And you, not-kobold?” he asked.

“I really need to pee.” I said.

“And you, Skavius?” he asked one of the soldiers.

“I don’t need a new kneecap, but I won’t be doing any long races soon.”

“Ah, and here comes an end to duty. Lady Uma! Come to execute the infiltrator yourself?”

Instead of her normal axe, she had what looked all the world like a hat-rack thrust into a boulder. “Huh. Brother’s pet. He’ll be so glad that it’s decided to return.” she muttered. Then, she ground one hoof into my face, directly adjacent to my eye. “One has to wonder, are you done causing trouble for these fine soldiers?”

.....

“For today.” I said.

She leaned forward until my bones creaked. “I need a longer time frame than that. If my brother thinks I can’t manage a weakling like you, what then would he think of me? You know what a brother’s love can mean to a sister. More to me than your nose does.”

“Until dusk, and however long after it takes for them to piss me off, then.” I said.

She blinked down at me. “You have grown in more than just size. If I didn’t know you better, I might actually respect your position. However...”

She balanced delicately, one hoof on my nose. Her nostrils flared in rage, but stopped after two breaths. “I guess you did find something stronger than those hollow bird bones.” With a bone-jarring bounce, she was off of me.

“Let him up.” she said.

“Sergeant?” one of the soldiers asked.

“That is the strongest woman in the empire, and one of the twelve strongest of any category. What do you think my order is going to be?”

I grunted and whined like an old man as I popped my dislocated joints (Yes, more than three, and more than the fingers on my hands) back into place. There was also some re-alignment of the lower spine to be done.

Uma yawned. “My father passed from this world with less complaint than you. Can’t you just shut up and heal yourself?”

“Apparently not.” I said, pulling my tail out and down until it popped back into the proper socket. “So how is your family, Uma?” I asked.

“It’s LADY Uma to you, barbarian, until you earn a title on the field of battle. You ARE rising some time today, are you not?”

If you find a way to rise and gracefully slide your jaw back into place, you’re probably doing it wrong. I didn’t care; my eyes were leaking tears,and not just because of dust and pollen.

I’m supposed to say that every joint that slid back into place made me feel better. Instead, it turned sharp pains into diffuse areas of stiffness and ache.

But I could rise, and walk, after a fashion.

“Come on.” Uma said. “The toilet pits are this way.”

There was a fair amount of blood in my urine, and black streamers of what I know now is bile, the fluid common to the liver and kidneys.

[Severe Injury: Mild Sepsis, Severe Injury: Moderate Septic Shock (healing).]

As I wondered what the difference was, a message reminding me that for sixty development points I could install the diagnostic modules of my System pinged up. Of course, I dismissed it.

Uma noticed my unfocused eyes (I never did get a better answer from her other than that she saw different shades of black than her brothers did), and slapped a casual backhand into my shield. “Ha. Metal, again, finally. You might actually take a blow or two before passing out.”

“Not in my current condition, though I’ve fought with worse.” I admitted.

“So Baubee says.”

“I’m surprised you would call him that.”

“I’m from the elder litter. We all call him that, from time to time. Miletus and I to remind him of how far he’s come, but the others...”

She shook her head. “Our family problems are for our family, you will admit to hearing nothing.”

“I am a Truthspeaker, but not all truths need to be told.” I said.

“Hmph. And here Hortiluk has been telling us you’ve repeatedly hit your head, had your skull broken, once.”

I meant to rap on my head multiple times, but the way the pain cascaded with just once put an end to that. “I’m surprised he thinks it was only once.”

She snorted. “Even if I healed like you do, as fast and as purely as you do, even then I would never make light of my injuries.”

I twisted my neck back and forth, trying to soothe out bruises left by someone’s well-meaning choke hold. “Risk of developing a Charisma score; more things seem funny.”

“Keep your sense of humor from endangering my brother, and I’ll care less.” she said.

“I don’t think I’d ever...”

“No.” she said, “I don’t believe you would, deliberately. But I’ve seen what misfortunes visit you and those around you, seemingly by accident. You, young child, are cursed.”

“I am not... gurrk... Oh for the love of... How am I cursed NOW? By what?”

It was a tiny curse, lodged about my throat, trying to cut off oxygen flow to my brain. “Drown curse!” I cast, and coughed up the resulting water.

Uma paused, made a quarter of a turn back toward me. “Need I be concerned?” she asked

“What? No, not about that. Just someone’s ‘damn you, just stop fighting’. I’ll be fine, now that I’ve cleansed it from my aura.”

She shook her head, ran the fingers of her left hand through her dark mane. “I have trouble getting brother to wear amulets against curses. I’m too tired to fight you, as well.”

“You don’t need to fight. I figured magical trinkets were too expensive, especially when someone perceptive enough can find small sunstones in the river mud.”

“How small?” she asked, suddenly interested. I made the mistake of showing her with my fingers. “Oh, you mean tiny. Nothing like that will work for long.”

“Not alone.” I admitted. “But weave a dozen or so together with silver wire, or set them in a piece of jewelry...”

She tapped one of the rings on her fingers, a silver band, set with eight slab-like peridots. “We think alike in that matter, but it is always best not to trust the magics of others, or even magic itself.”

“My first magical trainer, Red Hare, also believed this.” I said.

historical

“Red Hare?” she asked.

“It can also be translated ‘Blood Rabbit’, but I find my translation a more accurate representation of the man.”

“I thought your first tutor was a gordvork, whose name I forgot.”

“Birimirihiirp.”

“I didn’t ask, an indication that I don’t care.”

“His name means Wanders in the Mist.”

“Something which I also don’t care about.”

“He taught me much of teas and brews and potions, but Red Hare was the first who taught me anything my System recognized as a spell.”

She snorted. “Forgive me if I know enough about your System to not care how it categorizes things.”

“What do you care about?” I asked. “Ask me your questions, I’ll tell you no lies.”

“Perhaps I’ve been in Whitehill too long.” she said, “But I’d rather you told me the truth instead of just not lying to me.”

“I am long past believing there is only one truth; how could there be, when there are so many lies?”

“Ugh. It is clear that you spent far too much time with brother Guur before coming here.”

I found my gaze at the ground away from her. “He feels otherwise about the time I chose to spend, or perhaps not spend is the better way of putting that.”

“Why not?” she asked. “If nothing else, I know my brother has a talented Cook on staff. Brittany or Bethany; something starting with B and ending in ‘ny’. Pleasant woman, but utterly useless outside the kitchen. But more to the point, why are you here rather than there?”

“The war is here.” I said.

“No, that is why my brother is here; it is why I am here. It is not why you are here.”

“I literally cannot...”

“But you don’t always tell the whole truth, do you.”

“I..”

“No.” she said, slapping her tail across my face. “There is yes; there is no. Do you always tell the whole truth?”

“No, of course not.”

“Why not?”

“How many times has the truth nearly gotten me killed?”

She stopped in front of a large pavilion tent, thrown up near both the side entrance to the wooden keep, and the outhouse on that side. “So, the truth, then. The largest part of it. Why are you HERE?”

It was a skill use; I could have attempted to resist. I didn’t.

“I believe Rakkal is in danger here.” I said. “I want him to survive.”

She snorted, then blew a breath out, flapping her lips.

“I guess I don’t kill you today, then. Come on, my brother is this way.”

.....

The particular word used can also mean “in the near future”, but that makes Skavian (not actually Skavius) sound like a boorish snob, instead of the uncultured snob he actually was.

A minotaur term for a younger brother, one implying cuteness or helplessness rather than respect.