An Oath - Summer 108 FA

[Vanya Volkov]

Summer 108 FA

The sky had mirrored Vanya’s thoughts for the past few days. Dark grey storms pooled in, only to be blown away and replaced by blistering sunlight. Sometimes a few puffy, white clouds accompanied it with howling winds loud enough to bother Vanya’s ears. A wolf’s hearing had its costs.

He felt them especially keenly that day: blustering dark clouds had filled the sky and let loose a pounding rain. Vanya’s dull green cloak was already soaked through by the time he approached the bridge. Caba, the chestnut mare he rode, stumbled every time thunder rang in the distance. Bloody horses. Before he’d been a soldier, he had always been content relying on his own two feet. This animal was supposed to be the most unflappable beast in Fal Dara’s stables, but Vanya felt certain that one of the grooms had decided to play a prank on him. Its name even meant ‘horse’, which was about as horse as you could get.

Of course, it was also likely that the beast had simply never had Vanya for a rider. He didn’t dwell on that, though.

He gripped the water-slicked reins as tightly as he could. In this weather, even his enhanced senses couldn’t help him: the rain fell in a solid sheet over the bridge up ahead, and all sound was drowned out by the pattering on the stone. His mount joined the line of those plodding their way across, whickering and huffing. The River Erinen was threatening to burst its banks, but a stone bridge wasn’t likely to collapse—and it was only a short way. He just had to make it across, and then he’d be safely on his way to Kandor.

Just as he reached the center of the bridge, an enormous clap of thunder crashed into his ears. A number of horses whinnied in terror, ears pinned back. Caba started.

She crashed into another horse and both animals reared. Caba staggered back towards the railing. The other rider started cursing, but Vanya hardly had time to hear anything before he was abruptly tossed from the saddle.

The icy water below knocked the breath out of him. The raging current—fuelled by the rains—dragged him under. He struggled to get to the surface. He managed a quick gasp of air before the river pulled him back down and away. Cold water, water in his lungs, the blackness—

He could feel his breath fading. He couldn’t get enough air. He couldn’t—

Someone’s hand reached towards him.

Without thinking, Vanya grabbed it.

Ginelle Zaitseva

[Ginelle Zaitseva]

Ginelle hated traveling in this weather. She’d much rather be curled up in a corner in the nice, dry common room of an inn. Being soaked to the bone in the saddle was not a pleasant experience. Even less pleasant was the knowledge that she’d have no real way to get dry until the next village she stopped at.

Ugh. The chafing alone was enough to make her want to tuck tail and return home. Only the knowledge that her family would be thoroughly unsurprised at her family motivated her to press on.

Ginelle hesitated before the bridge, leading Song over to the bank, out of the way of a wagon, and reining her to a stop. The grey mare shifted, liking this no more than Ginelle did. Maybe they’d cross after the congestion on the bridge had eased. Ginelle couldn’t imagine why everyone and their bloody mother had decided they needed to travel in these conditions.

The clap of thunder startled Song. The grey bolted before Ginelle could rein her in, taking off towards the river itself. Pea-brained animal! Song’s flight was interrupted by Ginelle sliding awkwardly from the horse’s back, still clinging to the reins, and together they splashed and staggered into the shallows.

Even here, the current was treacherous. Ginelle lost her footing, yanking Song’s head down sharply as she fought her way back up. Song whinnied urgently, trying to tug the reins from Ginelle’s grip—and, as Ginelle swore, the mare made it.

Her clothes! Her precious clothes! No!

Ginny lunged for the nearest neatly-tied bundle, but instead found herself holding—someone’s hand?

Ugh! Ginny tried to yank her hand away, nearly losing her footing again. Even hip-deep water could be violent, especially in the storm. It’d be more than enough to carry her away, if she fell.

Vanya Volkov

[Vanya Volkov]

Vanya clung to the hand with everything he had. The hand pulled him back, and he floundered towards it. He had no idea if he was being dragged deeper by a drowning man or brought to the shore, but it was his only chance. Water, icy water—it filled him with a panic that he had never been able to shake.

He would die here. He would drown here for the second time. The last time.

While contemplating his imminent doom, he abruptly realized the water around his face was gone. He coughed violently, sputtering, struggling to breathe. Slowly the spots in his vision started to fade, even as his throat and chest seared with pain.

He realized he was floating in the shallows. The mercifully peaceful shallows. Vanya looked up blearily at the face of his saviour. A woman’s face!

“Light,” he croaked. “You saved me. I owe you my life, Lady—“

She was not looking at him. Vanya still clung to her hand, thoroughly unaware that she was doing anything but jerking him to his feet. He stumbled, waist-deep—which was not ideal, but much better than not being able to feel the bottom at all—and tried to wade towards her.

“The Light shine on you,” he continued in a hoarse voice. “I owe you my life, Lady—please, tell me your name—“

A pack of some sort floated past him, but Vanya was not paying attention.

Ginelle Zaitseva

[Ginelle Zaitseva]

This was, without a doubt, the worst day of Ginelle’s life. In her heart of hearts, she wasn’t sure she’d honestly expected to get away with this. She certainly hadn’t expected to fail before she’d even made it out of Kandor, though! And like this!

Hissing with frustration, Ginelle attempted to shake the stranger off once again. It was a feeble gesture; drenched, miserable, and tired, Ginelle felt far too weak to shake anyone off at the moment. Mostly she wanted to slump down onto the ground and cry. She couldn’t even do that, still being marooned in the blood river.

“Get my pack!” Ginelle shouted, still angrily flapping her hand. He’d let go eventually, she was sure. “It’s floating away, you...you lump!”

At another time, she might’ve been pleased at that ‘Lady’. At the moment, Ginelle neither looked nor felt much like aspiring nobility. Even if he did manage to snag her pack—doubtful, as it was now well out of reach—everything in it would be just as soaked as Ginelle was now. She’d have to stop at the next inn to dry it all, and the light only knew how long that would take.

Vanya Volkov

[Vanya Volkov]

He was so shocked he just stared at her for a moment. This was decidedly not the answer he was expecting. The pack? What pack?

He glanced where she was looking. Oh. That pack. It was swiftly floating downstream.

Vanya floundered after it, finally letting go of her hand, but the waves sent it rolling further away. He paused as the water crept up to his chest. Vanya was a fool, but he was not fool enough to risk dying the same way twice in one day.

“Your pack is lost. I’m sorry,” Vanya told her mournfully as he turned around. She had saved him, and he had already failed her! Ah, well. Truth be told, they were both just lucky to be alive. Vanya did not mess around when it came to water. “My lady, we should get back to shore.”

Ginelle Zaitseva

[Ginelle Zaitseva]

Ugh! Finally! The brutish lout had unhanded her. Ginelle wrapped her arms about herself, shivering, and promptly flung them out to either side again. She didn’t want to lose her balance and be the one begging him for help.

Ginelle narrowed her eyes. She didn’t want to ask this man for anything. She didn’t want to stand here in the middle of a bloody river with him for a moment longer! Already, she’d assigned him fault for everything that had happened. He hadn’t been the one to knock her in, but it was easier to blame him than cruel fate.

Without a word, Ginelle turned and stalked back towards the bank. It was not a very graceful stalk, given the fact that she had to slog through water, splashing furiously and nearly stumbling several times, but she made the effort.

“You startled my horse,” Ginelle shot over her shoulder, slogging on.

Well, she hadn’t been able to resist getting just a few words in.

Vanya Volkov

[Vanya Volkov]

Though still grateful and deeply embarrassed, Vanya could not deny that he was confused.

“I didn’t, that was—“ he started instinctively, and clamped his jaw shut. His cheeks burned: it wouldn’t do to argue with the person who had just saved his life. Instead, he frowned at her back as he followed her. A glance at the bridge told him that his horse had run off; he’d have to track her down for his supplies. And then he’d sell the bloody animal to the first merchant he could find. Light.

As soon as they got to muddy shore, Vanya hurried forward to face her. He drew his sword, planting it in the ground in front of him as he knelt on one knee.

“My lady, I owe you a great debt. By the light and my hope of rebirth and salvation, I swear to obey and protect you for having saved my life, and—why do you smell angry?”

He stared up at her. Now that his nose wasn’t clogged with water, he could smell the fury radiating from her. Besides almost dying, Vanya wasn’t sure what under the Light he’d done to upset her. Perhaps she was upset that she’d had to save him at all? Had he said smell? Ah, Light. Well, if she recognized his yellow eyes, he couldn’t exactly hide what he was from her anyway.

Ginelle Zaitseva

[Ginelle Zaitseva]

Reaching the shore didn’t precisely make Ginelle feel better about the situation, but at least she had dry (correction: muddy) ground beneath her riding boots and was no longer in imminent danger of being swept away. Her hands went to her skirts instinctively, in an attempt to straighten them.

A wasted effort. Ginelle sighed. She’d have better luck wringing them. As for the man before her, was he truly...what was he doing?

No. No. This was far too much for her to process. She might’ve been able to deal with the kneeling, with the vow, or perhaps with the comment on her smell, of all things, but all of them together—and, wait, what was wrong with his eyes? Who had she accidentally fished from the river?!

Ginelle took a step back, her eyes wide. She was more overwhelmed than intimidated, and more frustrated and angry and cold than anything else, but this was too much. Light!

“W-what do you mean, my smell?” Ginelle asked that, seizing onto one thing in the torrent of madness. The fact that he was apparently smelling her seemed more immediately offensive than the rest.

Vanya Volkov

[Vanya Volkov]

Light, this wasn't at all going the way he expected. Vanya wasn't even sure how he'd already managed to form expectations in his head, but he apparently had, because he was felt well and truly off-balance. The anger-scent flared even stronger, accompanied by shock and fear. Vanya supposed that wasn't too surprising.

"I can smell how people feel," Vanya said simply, as if it was the most natural thing in the whole world. What, was he supposed to lie? Vanya had no idea how he could do that now. "You smell even angrier now. Er--I'm sorry. Did I offend you?"

He awkwardly stood up and slid his sword back into its scabbard, watching her with a frown. He offered her a hand to shake.

"Please, let me introduce myself properly. My name is Vanya. Vanya Volkov."

Ginelle Zaitseva

[Ginelle Zaitseva]

Light help her, he was a madman. A madman with freakish yellow eyes. Ginelle might have heard something about men with yellow eyes, once, but whatever it was slipped from her grasp now that she was face-to-face with the reality.

And he wouldn’t stop talking about smelling her! Ugh!

“Don’t smell me,” Ginelle snapped, taking another hasty step back, as though his proffered hand was a venomous snake. She folded her arms, just in case he tried to seize her hand for a shake regardless. Ugh, did he actually expect her to introduce herself? Light, no! “Stop smelling me! Just...go away!”

She didn’t want to know his name! Weirdo! She definitely didn’t want his oath, either, though thankfully he seemed to have forgotten about that for the moment. Weird half-drowned man! What’d he been doing in the river to begin with, anyways? Perhaps he’d been living under the bridge. He seemed the type.

Vanya Volkov

[Vanya Volkov]

Vanya could see he’d rather botched things. In his defense, though, he couldn’t stop smelling her. She might as well as ask him to stop seeing. Frankly, Vanya was starting to wonder why under the Light the woman had saved him at all. She’d risked herself to haul him out, and now she acted as if she would’ve preferred if he had simply drowned there. It truly made no sense.

He felt as if he should’ve been more offended, but he was too confused to feel anything but…well, confusion.

“But you saved my life,” Vanya said, frowning even deeper now. He awkwardly let his hand fall to his side. “If I leave, I’d be an oathbreaker. I have to keep my word.”

Blood and ashes! All he’d ever wanted was to be a man of honour, and the Pattern perpetually conspired to ensure he couldn’t be! His expression hardened. No. He’d be what he meant to be, fate be damned.

“At least tell me your name. A man should know the name of the one who saved his life.”

Ginelle Zaitseva

[Ginelle Zaitseva]

Argh. Had she really saved his life? She hadn’t wanted to. She’d only wanted to save her clothes, and she’d certainly made a mess of that. Even now, Ginelle would gladly trade Vanya Volkov’s life for her missing pack. She was briefly, viciously tempted to tell him just that.

No. She wouldn’t. Though he’d committed the crime of annoying her, he was still a strange man with a sword. A strange man with odd, sickly yellow eyes who kept smelling her. She needed to shake him off as quickly as possible, not start arguments with him.

“It’s...Karalin,” Ginelle said, dredging a name out of her memory. She wasn’t a very good liar, but then, Vanya didn’t seem very bright. Probably he wouldn’t notice. “Karalin…” Volkov? Zaitseva? She couldn’t think of anything! “Zaitkova. I need to get my horse.”

Song, bless her, hadn’t bolted. The dumb animal hadn’t returned to her, either, and stood shivering a few paces away. Ginelle stepped towards the mare, holding her sodden skirts up away from the mud. They were filthy enough without adding more.

Vanya Volkov

[Vanya Volkov]

He felt like there was something vaguely off about the name Zaitkova. Nonetheless, while his nose could detect many things, it could not detect a lie. Not that he could smell much beyond anger and what he thought was disgust from her, anyway. Disgust! Vanya supposed he had just been dredged out of a river, but he surely didn’t look that terrible. Did he?

Still, he was caught in a terrible bind. He had to uphold his oath, but Karalin had asked him to go away. It would be dishonourable to break his oath. It would also be dishonourable to follow her around when she clearly did not want his company. Vanya frowned to himself.

When she went after her horse, he hurried ahead of her.

“I’ll get her for you,” he said, wading back into the muddy waters. Karalin’s horse seemed about as friendly to him as she was, but she still plodded after him when he tugged on the reins. He handed them to Karalin as swiftly as he could. Vanya trusted strange horses even less than ones he knew.

An idea came to him—perhaps there was a way he could uphold his oath and keep his honour. She hadn’t said he had to go away forever.

“I will leave if that is what you want,” Vanya said grimly to her. “But I still owe you. Are you certain you don’t want help getting to wherever it is you need to go? Where are you headed?”

Ginelle Zaitseva

[Ginelle Zaitseva]

To Ginelle’s relief, the man didn’t call her bluff. He didn’t go on about smelling anything, either, which was another blessing. Good grief. She couldn’t tell whether he was delusional or telling some twisted version of the truth, and she wasn’t sure she wanted to know either way.

Imagine if someone really could smell people? There were some smells people produced that ought to stay private, thank you, or at least unmentioned!

She took the reins quickly, fighting the urge to leap away from him and onto Song’s back. She wasn’t sure she could have managed it even dry and rested, to be honest. As it was, she was significantly more likely to fall on her face than pull it off.

“Oh, I’ll be fine,” Ginelle said. “I’m just on my way to visit my greatmother in her...cottage in the woods.” She wasn’t sure where that had come from, but she couldn’t muster the mental energy to think of anything better. “She won’t want any men around.”

Vanya Volkov

[Vanya Volkov]

Her greatmother lived in the woods? Perhaps the wolves could—no. Even if they could be convinced to pay attention to a particular human, that felt too much like spying. And Vanya, as much as he wanted to repay his debt, wasn’t a creep.

Though Karalin seemed to think otherwise. Maybe she had a point. Was he creepy? He would have to ponder this later. For the moment, he just nodded.

“Travel safely, Karalin,” Vanya said. And just as abruptly as he’d appeared, he turned on his heel and left without looking back. There. She wouldn’t like him staring after her, and so he would not. He was not going to follow her either! He would settle his affairs in town, and then ask about a Karalin Zaitkova to determine how best he could uphold his oath to her. Feeling confident in his plan, Vanya stride away.

Ginelle Zaitseva