The Swords & Salt Collection

by Lindsay Buroker

  “Wait,” Yanko blurted. “I’m trying to…”

  He didn’t know how to explain it quickly, and Falcon didn’t hear him anyway. He plunged the saber downward, using it like a spear rather than a sword. The blade sank several inches into the gap between the creature’s head and its first body segment. It reared up with such force and speed that it hurled Falcon almost as far as Yanko had flung his opponent. At first, he thought the creature had survived the blow and intended to attack again, but that final lurch was its last. It crumpled to the floor, its legs sticking out in all directions, the dark ichor spreading across the salt beneath it.

  “I was trying to communicate with them,” Yanko whispered.

  Falcon stared. “No, no, I’m fine. Clearly hale and uninjured.” He grimaced as he gripped his arm where blood stained his silks. “No need to inquire after my health. Oh, and you’re welcome for saving your life even though you stupidly sneaked out under my nose.” The grimace turned into a glower.

  “I’m sorry. It’s just that I didn’t need your help. I was talking with them.” Yanko touched his temple.

  “Talking? That one was about to talk you into a thousand pieces with those bloody prongs. I rushed out to defend my, my noble charge—” from his stutter and deepening glower those weren’t the first words that had come to mind, “—who wandered off when he shouldn’t have.”

  Yanko should have bitten his tongue and thanked his brother instead of trying to explain the misunderstanding, but he couldn’t help but feel he had lost his chance to negotiate with the species now that he had blood—or ichor—on his hands. Besides, if Falcon truly wanted to be his bodyguard someday, he would need to know when to trust him to handle a situation with the mental sciences. “I’d had them restrained behind a barrier for the last twenty minutes. It was only you barging out of the lift that distracted me, causing me to drop the barrier. Didn’t you see that they were staying in one place over there when you arrived?”

  “I…” Falcon considered the tunnel exit by the dim lighting from the single lantern—it had survived the skirmish, and the flame still flickered from its spot on the floor. “Maybe. I was concerned for you though. I… might have reacted without thinking. Though you were foolish to sneak down here alone. You could have been overwhelmed.”

  If his brother was willing to concede he had acted hastily, Yanko could do no less than concede to the latter. “I know. I didn’t see another opportunity to learn more about them. Though what I learned… I don’t know if anything can be done or—”

  Movement at the corner of his vision made him jump. Falcon whirled toward the motion. The second creature was stirring, drawing its legs beneath it to stand.

  “Wait, let me,” Yanko blurted, though he had no idea if the situation could be salvaged with anything other than a fight to the death. He tested himself by creating a curving cage from the air, one that would keep the creature pinned against the wall. This required more mental dexterity than the flat barrier, and he hoped his future bodyguard wouldn’t notice the sweat-stained armpits in the robe of his “noble charge.”

  But the creature didn’t test the barrier. It simply stood still. Lost in thought? Afraid to run with its comrade dead a few meters away? Yanko was fairly certain he’d been communicating with the other one, though they appeared identical to his eyes. Would this one have anything different to say—er, think?

  “I’m going to try to communicate again,” Yanko said.

  Falcon leaned against the wall and extended an arm in invitation. Yanko couldn’t tell if the expression he wore was sullen, disappointed, or regretful. Or all three. He wished he had found an opportunity to compliment his brother’s swordsmanship skills, but feared the moment had passed.

  “It’s taxing to talk with them and keep the barrier up,” Yanko said. “I’d appreciate it if you’d stand ready with your sword.”

  Falcon’s chin came up. He nodded and pushed away from the wall to stand at Yanko’s side, his weapons in hand. “I’m ready.”

  Yanko turned his attention toward the creature, stretched out, and sensed… little. It was waiting, its thoughts as still as its body. Or perhaps it hadn’t yet recovered from the blow.

  Yanko tried the same images he had used on the first one, the suggestions that humans could coexist with these insects, or at least agree to keep out of each other’s way. The first thought that came back to him was one of Falcon slaying the other creature. Not surprising that it would be focused on that, but Yanko needed it to forget the violence and to think of peace, if that was possible after bloodshed.

  “Or… maybe not,” he murmured.

  “What?” Falcon asked.

  “Just thinking aloud. During my first communication, the other one kept thinking thoughts of killing humans. And of killing me. I took the threats as… chilling, but maybe it was bravado of a sort. Threats meant to scare me off. To scare all of the humans off, so they won’t have to deal with us.”

  “Is this one threatening you now?” Falcon demanded, his tone edged with menace.

  “No. I think you impressed it. Or left an impression upon it anyway.”

  “Wonderful.”

  Yanko reached out again, this time showing the creature what could happen if humans came down with more skilled swordsmen and a box of blasting sticks. He emphasized the ceilings caving in and the threat to the hive.

  “What are you doing now?” Falcon asked.

  “Threatening it back.”

  “I don’t think that’s how diplomacy is supposed to work.”

  “Not human diplomacy, no, but in the wilderness, its the strongest that lead the pack while the weak follow and seek not to irritate the strong. Or to mine salt that belongs to them. That’s the message I need to convey.”

  He spent the next ten minutes feeling like an ass for threatening the bug, but all he had to do was remind himself of the dead men in order to continue. In the end, he released the creature and it skittered down the tunnel toward its hole without bothering them.

  “Was that a victory?” Falcon had shifted and flexed while the silent communication passed back and forth without him.

  “It’s going to share my message with its queen. I won’t know until I’m able to communicate with her, but I believe I impressed upon it the wisdom of not harming humans further. I’ll have to bring Uncle Mishnal down for a more formal exchange, but I hope we can come up with an arrangement that will leave both parties willing to… if not get along exactly, at least ignore each other amicably.”

  Falcon scrutinized Yanko as if he were a moldy piece of bread that might or might not still be edible. “When we were kids and you said the hounds were cold or hungry or nervous, you really knew, didn’t you? I always thought you were anthropomorphizing them.”

  “It doesn’t take an animal telepath to know that a dog trying to burrow under the covers with you is cold.”

  It was meant as a joke, but Falcon kept looking at Yanko like he had turned into a new person. A stranger? No, the look wasn’t that distant, but it did make Yanko realize that time had passed and he didn’t know his brother as well as he used to—or maybe his brother didn’t know him as well.

  “Why don’t you show me what a good bodyguard you can be by accompanying me to wake Uncle Mishnal up in the middle of the night?” Yanko waved toward the lift.

  Falcon snorted, a hint of humor finally stretching his lips. “A good bodyguard must be willing to take an arrow to protect his charge. Standing in front of him and taking the brunt of a relative’s wrath… that’s not mentioned in the handbook.”

  “You’re sure?” Yanko asked as they headed for the lift.

  “Positive.”

  “Is there really a bodyguard handbook?”

  “Oh, yes.”

  “I have much to learn.”

  Part 5

  The chamber outside of the lift on the bottom level didn’t serve as the most ceremonial conference hall, but Yanko reminded himself that the insect creatures couldn’t see
. And weren’t sapient. Though perhaps he was assuming too much. Thus far, they had proven themselves brighter than most animals he had encountered.

  Currently, eight creatures waited near the tunnel where Yanko had directed them. One larger than the others could communicate with the queen at a distance through some sort of link. Maybe they had a telepathic ability that other animals didn’t, something that had evolved as a need to survive in this lightless underworld. If so, that would irritate practitioners all over Nuria, men and women convinced the ability to manipulate the Science was a result of mental superiority. It would be fascinating to study the creatures and learn more. Did they have a name or concept for themselves that he might translate to Nurian?

  Falcon walked away from a discussion with Uncle Mishnal and a few overseers. He wore his dress military uniform, crimson silks with symbols embroidered in black to denote his unit and occupation. A ceremonial but functional baldric held his saber and kyzar. Seeing the military attire reminded Yanko of his own future, one that would involve fighting, not chitchatting with insects and animals. His throat tightened with… disappointment? Sadness? Upset? He wasn’t sure, but not for the first time, he wondered if it made him a bad son—a bad person—that he often found himself dreaming of a different future and fantasizing about the what-ifs of life. What if his mother had been normal, not some crazy woman who had abandoned her family to plunder the seas? What if Falcon had shown aptitude for the mental sciences and been the one burdened with family expectations? What if, when Arayevo had invited Yanko to head off on an adventure with her, he had said yes?

  Arayevo, will I ever see you again?

  “They’re ready,” Falcon said, taking a spot at Yanko’s side. “You all right?”

  Yanko blinked a couple of times to bring himself to the moment—and keep the moisture filming his eyes from evolving into something more embarrassing. “Yes. I’ve already arranged everything with them. I just need—oh, here he comes.” Yanko pressed his hands together before his chest. “Honored Uncle. They wait for the proposal of the human boundary.”

  “I see.”

  Mishnal eyed the creatures with a distasteful expression. Remembering that he had lost men to them? The creature Falcon had slain remained near the tunnel mouth, a reminder to all that their side had lost someone too. Though Yanko had insisted it be left there as a further threat to the creatures rather than to mollify his uncle. The insects must not forget that the humans had superior weapons.

  “The boundary proposal you suggested is acceptable,” Mishnal said, his mouth twisting wryly. “I’m not sure why you got me out of bed, since you’ve gone off and figured this all out on your own.”

  It sounded more like a chastisement than a compliment.

  “Are you… angry with me, Uncle?”

  “I believe the word is exasperated.”

  “We’re all feeling that way,” Falcon said. “Even the bugs, I bet.”

  Mishnal grunted. “Give them the tunnel that leads to that hole and everything beyond it. We’ll veer off in the other direction. I hope they won’t be offended if I have some men brick off those tunnels regardless of this… treaty.”

  Yanko wouldn’t go so far as to call it a treaty. Could one make a treaty with bears? Or dolphins? Nothing that would be binding. “I’ll let them know. I suspect they’ll approve of the wall.”

  “Don’t like us any more than we like them, eh?”

  “That is the impression I’ve received.” Yanko recalled the image that one had thrust upon him of his own violent death and shuddered.

  Mishnal waved a hand in dismissal. “Let me know when it’s done. Then we can drink.”

  “To celebrate?” Falcon asked.

  Mishnal’s departing grunt wasn’t exactly agreement.

  Falcon murmured, “I think he likes you.”

  “Oh, obviously.”

  “His eyes glint a little even when he seems irritated with you.”

  “That’s indigestion,” Yanko said. “He has trouble with rice.”

  “Ha ha. I’m serious. It’s not like with Father and how he…” Falcon cast a quick glance at Yanko. “I mean, I think it was good that Father sent you here. Mishnal seems to be a decent influence.”

  Yanko didn’t comment on the unfinished sentence. He knew Father had never gotten him, not the way he did Falcon. A son who wanted to be a warrior, that he understood. Yanko had never thought himself complex or mystifying to people, but maybe it was a matter of like being drawn to like.

  “I guess.” For a moment, Yanko was tempted to confess to Arayevo’s parting words and the temptation he had felt to leave his entire family. No, he would keep those thoughts to himself too. “Let me finish this.” He waved to the creatures.

  For the next fifteen minutes, he relayed images to explain Mishnal’s boundaries and ensure that both parties could continue to coexist down here. Finally came the patter of dozens of legs skittering across the floor, and the creatures filed into their tunnel, soon disappearing into the darkness.

  “Shall we go see what beverages they’re planning?” Yanko asked, stifling a yawn. After being up all night, he wouldn’t mind jumping into his bunk, but he didn’t know if he would be dismissed for that right away.

  Falcon nodded, though he was gazing at the tunnel the creatures had gone down, a thoughtful expression on his face.

  “Problem?” Yanko asked.

  “No, I’m just realizing… I may have to find my own way out of the frozen north.”

  “Why? What do you mean?”

  “Oh, just this feeling I’m getting.” Falcon tore his gaze from the tunnel and met Yanko’s eyes. “I have this hunch the gods have something else in mind for you. Something more than flinging fireballs at some enemy warship.”

  “I…” wish that were true, Yanko thought. “Given the status of our family, I find it unlikely I’ll be chosen for any special destiny.” All he could hope was to prove himself at Stargrind and in his military career so that he might earn honor and distinction for himself and his family. After that… perhaps he would have the freedom to pursue his passions. If he still cared about them. His father seemed to think he would grow out of his interest in the earth and the wilderness. Yanko hoped not.

  “We’ll see,” Falcon said. “We’ll see.”

  ~