Welcome back to Silvanus and Empire! In our last chapter, Oren got the surprise of his life when his missing young apprentice showed up back at his door once more. Today, there are even more surprises in store, and not just for the crankiest man in Annex. Read on to find out more!
Caddoc dragged over a small stump and placed it in front of Oren. He sat down on it heavily, groaning, and pulled off one of his primitive hide boots, revealing a bandaged foot soaked with blood. “I’ll never complain about Imperial-issue boots ever again,” he said.
Oren couldn’t believe his eyes. “Caddoc, please – tell me what happened at the Bakers.”
The younger man sighed. “It was terrible,” he said. “After our argument, I had set off to confront Master Baker about what we had quarreled about, but I found the storefront empty. I walked into the back room and found Master Baker there. His wife – or I assume it was his wife – was face-down on the bed in the next room. I turned around and Lyrinn had a knife pressed to her throat by a Silvani hunter. There was another with him – and the next thing I know, I had been knocked out, stripped bare, trussed up, and dragged across the river as a hostage to keep Lyrinn from trying to escape.” He lowered his head, showing off a nasty bump.
Oren hissed at the sight. “That looks painful, my young friend. But what happened next? How did you learn of Lyrinn’s family? And how did you escape?”
Caddoc leaned back, placing his foot down gingerly on the ground. He began to untie the thongs holding his other hideskin boot in place. “First things first – my feet are howling. Do you have any clean rags?”
Oren wordlessly got up from his seat and went rummaging in the recesses of the barn. He came back in a few moments, carrying a bundle of cloth under one arm and a washbasin and pitcher in his hands. He set them at Caddoc’s feet. The apprentice scribe smiled thankfully.
“This is where things get decidedly queer, Oren.” He exposed both his raw, abused feet and filled the basin to wash them carefully. He winced more than once as he did so. “They marched me through the forest until daybreak, naked as a jaybird. We stopped on the outskirts of a Bloodhair village, where we met an older Bloodhair woman, her hair streaked with gray. She used some strange sorcery to give Lyrinn the gift of understanding Silvani speech, a concoction made from their mingled blood.”
Caddoc dried his feet carefully, wrapping them anew. He then began to slip his boots back on. “By the Emperor, this stings!” He gritted his teeth as he tightened the rawhide thongs, then sighed as he settled his feet back down on the floor. “That’s better.”
Oren bent down to take the washbasin and pitcher. He set them on the inkstand behind him. “What happened next, Caddoc? This… potion… did it work?”
Caddoc laughed bitterly. “Oh yes, it did. On more than just Lyrinn.” He shook his head. “I had been sprawled at Lyrinn’s feet, a flint knife at my throat, to persuade her to drink the brew. When she did, she choked on it, dropping the cup. It splashed over me, running down my face… into my mouth.” He locked eyes with his superior. “Oren, I can speak Silvani now.”
Oren shook his head. “That’s impossible,” he said. “What you’re telling me isn’t in the realm of our understanding. Even with what I know of the strange, primitive powers of the Bloodhair themselves.”
“Trust me, Oren – I didn’t believe it at first myself. But it’s true. Ursanu ri Silvani thuvarigaldar. I can understand Silvani.” The floor above them creaked again, sending another handful of hay spiraling down to the floor.
Oren rocked back in his chair. He shook his head violently. A panicked tremor crept into his voice. “That heathen filth has no place on an Imperial tongue!” he cried. His eyes were round and white.
“Oren, please!” Caddoc hissed, holding his hands up in a placating gesture. “Keep your voice down, for the Emperor’s sake! Do you think I like this any more than you do? I didn’t ask for this!”
The older man calmed slightly. “So this potion… you can understand the language now?”
“Yes, and I don’t understand why. It was supposed to only work on Lyrinn because of her bloodline, the one she shared with her father.”
Oren sighed. “The Mark. I saw it on her. It matched her father’s. He had been using it to help the town’s crops grow. To bring the rain when we needed it, to till the soil, to keep the birds from the fields… he was a good man.”
Caddoc crossed his arms. “So you did know them. You knew Lyrinn’s parents.”
“I did.” Oren shivered, hugging himself and pulling his blanket tight. “This… this woman that fed Lyrinn the potion –”
The young scribe nodded. “She calls herself – ” Caddoc thought for a moment. “Ri-Go-Tinoré. Spirit-of-Vengeance. Lyrinn’s mother. Or at least she claims to be. Her age is about right, and she seems to have information that only someone who knew what happened here twenty winters ago would know.”
Oren shook her head. “I knew Lyrinn’s mother. Her name was – ” He swallowed and looked away. “Her name was Ri-Go-Jurani. Spirit-of-Peace. I watched her die. Her, and Lyrinn’s father.” He looked back at Caddoc. “I watched her and Owl die. I buried them myself. That woman is not Lyrinn’s mother.”