Children of the Rune: Winterer

Chapter 8

The First Dinner

Boris jumped to his feet immediately, like someone had slapped him on the back of the head. He saw Yevgnen in the distance, carrying a water pail. He managed to say with some difficulty, “Yevgnen…?”

Boris was dazed, and his brother handed him the pail and grinned.

“Yes, Boris. Who else would I be?”

He was unable to even take a drink of the water, and he stared up blankly at his big brother’s face. For some reason, tears suddenly streaked down his cheeks.

Yevgnen looked confused. “What’s the matter? Are you ill?” Yevgnen approached and put a hand on Boris’ forehead. He dropped the pail and hugged his brother. The water damped the hems of their pant legs.

Before Yevgnen could even ask a question, Boris said, “It’s nothing… I-I’m just happy to see you...”

Boris didn’t really know why he was acting this way, to be honest. He thought it might be because of what had happened last night, but the most crucial part of it was missing from his memory. How was it possible for that part to be gone when he remembered everything else?

Yevgnen didn’t say much as he patted Boris on the shoulder. Then he kneeled so their eyes were level and stroked his cheek. “Oh, kiddo. You must have had quite the scare.”

After Boris calmed a little, they took up the pail and headed back to the spring, which wasn’t far. It was a small spring, but there was a circle of round rocks around it, as if someone was maintaining it. Boris saw the thread which had tied the pail to a stake. Yevgnen had cut it earlier.

They had their fill of water, then returned the pail to its original spot. Boris looked around and noticed that they were surrounded by fields, just like they would be in Longgord.

“Yevgnen, where are we?”

“The Hata Highlands, which belong to the House of Guillem. It’s to the north of the Longgord Fields. You’ve heard of it, haven’t you?” An awkward smile was on Yevgnen’s face.

Boris cocked his head. “How did we come so far overnight?”

Yevgnen pointed to some trees behind the spring, where a horse had been tied. Boris grew confused again at the thought that they’d ridden that horse all night. So he’d been on a moving horse’s back and not woken up once? He’d been unconscious for that long?

There could only be one other question he could ask. Noticing how cheerful his brother seemed, and lulled by the peaceful surroundings, Boris asked it without expecting to hear anything negative.

“Where is Father?”

“Oh…” Yevgnen’s mouth was open, but he didn’t seem capable of answering right away. Seeing Boris’ eyes go wide, he quickly said, “Oh, well... He’s not here. He went elsewhere with Tulkh. I’m not sure exactly where, though. Things were bad, and we scattered... and ran.”

“How will we find him?”

“Tulkh will contact us via magic.”

Boris nodded, accepting this explanation. “So that means we’re on our own until then? Can we go back home now? Uh... What about Uncle Vlado?”

“We probably can’t go back home, but…” Yevgnen trailed off, and Boris nodded knowingly.

Boris had experienced how frightening their uncle could be when he was five. Vlado had come alone back then, grabbed Boris, who’d been playing in the yard, and carried him under his arm as he stood in front of the well. When Yulken came down, his uncle pretended to drop Boris into the water and grinned.

Since he had been smiling, Boris assumed at first that it was a joke, and chortled joyfully. But his uncle hadn’t stopped the “joke” even when the dark well was starting to look more and more frightening. He couldn’t remember exactly how his father had chased Uncle Vlado away back then. All he remembered was that there was a complicated conversation between them as they stood with the well between them.

“Why don’t we go and visit our great-aunt?” Yevgnen suddenly said.

Boris blinked in surprise. They had only one great-aunt, and Boris had never met her. Though she was their father’s aunt, to them, she was a distant stranger because she belonged to a different political faction. Did Yevgnen know her well?

“Great-Aunt Janine?”

“Yes. She’s probably staying in Elmer, where Senator Smoulen of the March Senators is the mayor. It’ll take some time to get there, but it’s not that far.”

“Do you think she’ll welcome us?”

Yevgnen tilted his head, his hair touching either shoulder, then smiled wryly. “I can’t be sure of that. But until Father... finds us, we have nowhere else to go. The March Senators isn’t completely opposed to Father’s faction. Oh, I suppose there is one more option, but...”

“What would that be?”

Yevgnen’s shoulders drooped as though he was about to mention the most difficult topic in the world. Then he said, “Prince-Elector Katsya.”

“Oh.”

Boris said no more. Prince-Elector Katsya was simply the high-ranking person that their father served. That was all Boris knew of him. Yevgnen had visited the man with Father a few times, but Boris had never seen him, and to him, the man was intimidating and difficult to approach. Because they’d heard there had been many unfortunate incidents involving him lately, the man wasn’t likely to give them a warm welcome if they went to see him in their current state.

“Yevgnen, can’t we just not go anywhere?”

His big brother looked taken aback by this. “Why do you say that? Because you think they won’t welcome us?”

“There’s that too, but... Instead of asking to be taken care of, we can live like commoners for a while. Father will soon come for us, anyway. It won’t take long, and…”

Yevgnen looked at him with an expression that seemed gloomy and frustrated. He would have avoided answering if he could, but that wasn’t possible.

“Boris, that kind of life is far from simple. You and I have been cared for by servants in the manor all our lives, and we don’t know much about how the common people live. We don’t have that much money, either. You probably have no idea because you’re so young, but the lives of poor commoners are very tough.”

Yevgnen smiled bitterly and continued, “Our uncle has taken the manor, and he won’t be able to track us down for a while with everything that will require his attention. But as long as we have the Winterbottom Kit, he won’t leave us alone for long. And there are plenty of other dangers too.”

Boris was listening, but he still couldn’t see the gravity of the situation very well. He had Yevgnen, his trusty brother. What was there to fear? Their father would be here soon too.

“I’m all right. It’ll only be a short while. If I can’t even bear that, Father will scold me for not deserving the Jineman name.” Boris gave a bright smile as he spoke, wanting to reassure Yevgnen. He didn’t want to worry him.

In the end, Yevgnen was forced to admit, “Perhaps where we go will make little difference. Let’s first find a nearby village. Then we’ll take our time deciding where to go next.”

It was evening by the time they found one. They went over their belongings on the way. The Winterbottom Kit, which Yevgnen was wearing, did not exactly fit into this category—it was something that could not be used and needed to be protected at all costs.

Yevgnen undid the leather pouch at his waist and showed Boris the gold he’d packed before leaving the manor. There were ten large gold coins, each worth a hundred elsos, and thirty other gold coins, each worth a hundred gobloons. A gobloon was worth half of an elso, but even so, this wasn’t a small amount. Even if they weren’t particularly frugal, the money would last them for about a month.

The final category was items that could be pawned off. Neither of them had any expensive accessories. Yevgnen had a hand mirror with a cover embedded with a sapphire, which had once belonged to their mother.

As for Boris, he had nothing. He searched his pockets, but all he found was the bread that the nanny had given him to eat for dinner, all dried and twisted. The brothers shared the piece of bread cheerfully as they arrived in the village.

They didn’t know the lay of the land, and they didn’t even know what the village was called. In truth, the name of the place didn’t feel all that important. Boris even grew a little excited at the thought that a new adventure had begun.

The village was quite big. They’d crossed a field to get here, but after they neared the settlement, they noticed that the roads stretched pretty far as well. They didn’t state their identity or house name to the guards. Instead, they simply offered commoner names for their aliases and walked inside.

The only crowded street Boris had seen was the village of Kaznan in Longgord, which was where the market was held. It probably wasn’t a market day here, but the streets were just as crowded. All sorts of people seemed to live here. Boris tried not to peer around so much like a country bumpkin, but he didn’t really quite manage.

“Uh, is there an inn nearby?”

They asked a peddler woman for directions to one, which was a two-story building with a high attic. There were people with horses and carriages blocking the entrance, and merely getting in was a hassle. The brothers shared a single horse, and they were the least assuming of the customers.

“Welcome!”

Boris jumped at the loud voice, but it was directed at the four or five men behind them. The men moved in front of the brothers, walking in noisily, and chattered incessantly between themselves at the counter as they requested two rooms.

“Yevgnen, is it expensive to use a room for the night?” Boris asked.

It was silly, but Yevgnen didn’t know this either. He’d traveled before, but the inns he’d stayed in had always been better facilities than this, and he’d had servants to wait on him. He’d never actually paid for accommodation himself. The House of Jineman, warriors by strong tradition, avoided haggling or touching money themselves when they could.

“Give us a room.”

The woman at the counter didn’t even mention a price as she took a key from the hooks on the wall and offered it to them. Yevgnen only had gold coins, which forced him to hesitate. He was very clumsy with money matters.

The clerk stared, an odd look on her face, and Yevgnen decided she was asking for payment.

“How much?”

The clerk’s lips twitched as she smiled ambiguously, then said, “Ten elsos.”

Yevgnen took out a coin worth a hundred gobloons, which was fifty elsos.

“My goodness. An awful lot of money for a young lad like you.”

The clerk grinned to herself as Yevgnen put the silvers he’d received in change in his pouch and turned away. Then she said, “Aren’t you going to eat dinner? What about breakfast tomorrow?”

Yevgnen gave a few more silver coins in payment. He was about to turn away again when the clerk, this time openly mocking him, said, “Choose your menu, at least.”

The brothers had never been asked to choose a menu at home. They had no idea what to order in a place like this, of course. Trying not to blush, Yevgnen said, “Just give us a good meal.”

“Ah, I see. I thought highborn lads like you would be picky about their food.”

Even the other staff moving around the counter began to snicker. The situation wasn’t really funny—this was simply open ridicule. Yevgnen felt a little angry, but he repressed his feelings and sat down at a table. Boris realized what was happening after looking at his brother’s face, but decided it was best to say nothing.

The food was served quickly, but the situation grew even worse.

“This is plenty good enough for you to eat, is it not?” said a server about Yevgnen’s age, who’d brought the food. He set down two large bowls in front of the brothers.

Boris looked into his. The food resembled some kind of soup or stew at first, but he pushed his chair back moments later when he saw something move inside. The moment the chair legs moved noisily, a few people burst out laughing.

Yevgnen stared into his bowl quietly. Ten, twenty... White bugs the size of a segment of his pinky finger were squirming in the watery soup. It was such a disgusting sight that he felt like throwing up.

“Hey! Lift that spoon, now! That right there is a signature dish of this inn! You should taste it, at least, even if you haven’t much of an appetite!”

“You don’t seem all that hungry, eh? But these are hard times, and you shouldn’t be leaving your food unfinished.”

“The young master here doesn’t seem to know how it’s eaten. Maybe I’ll scoop up some for him.”

Boris looked up and saw the groups standing around in the inn and chatting were all laughing at them, ridiculing them. He couldn’t understand it. What had he and his brother done to deserve this? Was there some kind of pent-up resentment? He didn’t think they knew any of these people.

Yevgnen slowly got up from his seat.