The Call of Crows

Chapter 15: The Crimson Tide

Yahui locked eyes with one of the refugees in the camp next to Taya's as Bjorn left his post to help Ruhak set up a tent.

Nikan eyes met her gaze, belonging to a man draped in a heavy black cloak.

One of Guanyu's Bane Knights.

The man scooted closer to Yahui and rather conspicuously pressed a small brush into her hands, bound behind her back. She felt the cool sensation of a lesser Shedim within the gift. The man moved away and disappeared behind a cart as she shoved the brush up her sleeve.

Guanyu had opted to be wise for once. Yahui, while still in need of rescue, was also an invaluable source of information on their enemies while she travelled with them.

She let herself smile with a bit of satisfaction.

"What's got your spirits high?"

Yahui turned to face Bjorn as he set a bowl of stew in her lap. He untied her so she could eat. She took it and gave the meal a whiff. It reeked of exotic herbs, but she actually enjoyed Koini tastes in food.

After setting up camp at the border, the Shedim Masters managed to get their hands on some quality ingredients from merchants that were more worthy of her stature.

"Nothing more than the fact that I can eat something more filling than gruel for once this week." Yahui said.

Bjorn furrowed his brow as he ate. His Shedemic senses, while unrefined, were still powerful. He likely sensed the unfamiliar Shedim in his midst. Yahui sent a few rivulets of chill power rippling through her to mask the lesser Shedim's presence before he picked up on it.

"Bjorn, I've heard tales told of men from your land who go into battle more bare than a Sklaveni. Apparently they are mad with bloodlust and I wonder how they function in society." Yahui said, starting the usual conversation the two of them tended to engage in. Bjorn refused to tell much about himself, so instead Yahui indulged her interest in other cultures. And through that, Bjorn still let some secrets slip.

"Hm," Bjorn swallowed his food, "Believe it or not, most of the stories are true. Berserkirs, you speak of. They are normal men most of the time. But they have a special brew that makes them unparalleled warriors, but also as crazy as an angry bear. Saw one of them rip out a man's throat once with his bare teeth."

"By the gods, where have you seen this stuff?"

"I grew up around it. My uncle was a berserkir." Bjorn said, "Got himself killed when he fought forty Sarfans trying to hold a bridge with nothing but two axes and a lot of mushrooms. Went shirtless too. He actually managed to kill most of them."

Yahui suppressed a devious grin. He was opening up. He was starting to be vulnerable. She had to strike.

"Your childhood sounds like it was a riot." Yahui chuckled.

The Ascomanni frowned.

"I mean that as a compliment. Growing up around warriors sounds far more exciting than my life was."

"What? Were the silk diapers and hairpins worth three villages not enough for you?" Bjorn scoffed.

"I didn't say it was bad. It simply lacked excitement." Yahui shrugged, "While you probably spent your days getting high on mushrooms, learning to build boats and fighting with your peers, I was practically raised in a study with a tutor for a best friend. I never had any free time. And on the rare occasions I did, it was spent making sure my older brothers wouldn't pick on Guanyu."

Bjorn let out a mean-spirited laugh, "Your brother was the runt of the litter?"

Yahui shook her head, "Oh, no. Many of my other siblings are far weaker. However, Guanyu and I aren't fully Nikan. Our mother was Fuso."