Hearts in Zenith (Four Husbands and a Lover)

28. Small Talk

Miccola brushed off my story about Yadwiga in the mayhem that any long march becomes. She galloped down the road screaming at someone to 'break it off'. Phedoxia, however, listened with a deepening frown.

After that, she stewed in her misgivings. It sounds like a quiet, inoffensive activity, but unfortunately, she glued her black stallion to Breva's flank for its duration. She muttered on and on. Then she asked me questions. Then she reworded the questions and asked them again, as if she suspected I was hiding something from her. Or that I was dim, so her trick would make me reveal some crucial detail. All the while Breva snorted at her unwanted equine companion and flicked her ears.

Why she troubled herself, I wasn't sure, since she already had an explanation for everything. All was the Bhutas' work.

"She even called you Ishmara!" Phedoxia ranted. "They were one of the most formidable Bhutas in the Primordial Strife."

"You wouldn't say!" I was only teased a thousand times about it growing up...

My sarcasm was lost on Pheodoxia. "They were," she said ponderously. "So, it follows that Yadwiga worships the Drowned Ones and wields black magic."

It was almost noon when she left me alone and went to accost Ondrey. No, she didn't have the designs I would have found understandable. She was in the grips of the other passion, no less powerful than sensual urges. She was in the grips of religious zeal, hoping Ondrey would convert and give up his adopted grandmother.

Ondrey darted pleading glances at me, but I couldn't immediately rescue him. Miccola rode back the moment Pheodoxia departed with a suspiciously long list of tasks to check off. And she needed me continuously, endlessly after that. So much so that I grew a little suspicious. However, I didn't confront her about it.

Finally, Miccola got called up to settle a dispute over a lame horse.

I put my knees to Breva and hurried to deliver my lumbering strategist from the clutches of a tiny crone.

When I caught up to the comic pair, Phedoxia was saying, "And these translations of the Scriptures, how can you be sure they are accurate? Are you lettered?"

It looked like at some point, Ondrey had transformed in her eyes from this untrustworthy peasant into a source of local knowledge. Maybe he was both.

The bitter twist to his mouth was the only opinion he allowed himself to express about either of those roles. "Your Luminance Phedoxia, I was taught my letters, but I didn't study the Mother of All Tongues, so I simply don't know," he replied.

Ondrey saw me coming and his face lit up with hope. The gap between us was too large for initiating a polite conversation, so he hollered with all his might.

"Haida! Your Grandissima? Do you require help?"

I racked my brain. "A wheel came off a wagon. They can use your help there... down there column. Way down. Right over there--" I pointed forward.

Ondrey whirled his stallion, a beast of a fitting size for his bulk. "Vivat, Grandissima!"

He took off at a clip, head bent low to hide a smile, thankfully in the right direction.

I steepled my hands around my mouth and yelled at his retreating back, "Just keep riding! You can't miss it."

It wasn't really a lie. I'd be astounded if no wagon had a broken wheel. If Bhuta's had cursed us with anything, it would have been fragile wheels.

His happiness was almost worth being stuck with Phedoxia. Almost. "Phedoxia, could you set up for taking dictation? I have an urgent message for the Captain-Commander."