Greim before ye.”
“Oh, see, Jorge? This is only one clan of the Uaine. And Blaine, what’s the name of your clan again?”
“Clan Dílis.” He grinned at his fellow Uaine. “The best clan.”
“Really?” she asked.
He shrugged, then stroked his short blond beard. “Sure the handsomest, I think.”
She laughed. “It’d be hard to be more handsome.”
He nodded sagely. “True ya’ speak, Sonah.”
“Sonya.”
He tried again. “Son-ee-hah?”
“We’ll work on it,” she said.
They walked on for a little while in silence.
Then Jorge asked, “So what’s this warlord of yours like?”
“No es handsome es me,” Blaine assured him. “But more smart and more…” He thought for a moment. “Mean.”
“Wonderful…” Jorge gave Sonya a worried glance.
She slapped his shoulder good-naturedly. “It’ll be fine. Worse comes to worse, I’ll just have to fight him, too. Right, Blaine?”
Blaine’s cheerful demeanor evaporated completely for the first time since they met. His expression was grave, and even a little concerned. “Sonah, ya’ would no’ ha’ so easy a time wi’ the Tighearna Elgin Mordha. He warlord for a reason.”
40
One reason Tighearna Elgin Mordha was warlord might have been height. He was larger than any man Sonya had ever seen. He towered at least a full head above Blaine. The lower half of his face was covered by a massive auburn beard that reached halfway down his broad chest. The upper half of his face was an uneven relief of scars and pockmarked skin, most likely left behind by the pox that had ravaged every country on the continent not under the Aureumian Empire’s protection. Piercing green eyes watched with interest out of the mass of scar tissue as Blaine led Sonya and Jorge into his tent.
The tent was large, with crackling fire braziers, and furs stretched across the ground that dispelled some of the lingering wet chill, which seemed to cling to these lands of the Uaine.
Blaine dropped to one knee before the Tighearna and spoke rapidly in their language. The Tighearna listened, and occasionally nodded, without betraying any emotion. Then at one point, the thick hairy ridge of his scarred brow rose and he interrupted Blaine with a question. Blaine’s expression became sheepish when he replied, and Sonya wondered if he had just gotten to the part where he’d been beaten by a “little girl with a little blade.”
Elgin Mordha laughed heartily at the response, loudly declared something, then dropped his massive hand on top of Blaine’s head like a benediction. Blaine’s face reddened, and he became even more embarrassed as he mumbled another reply. That made the Tighearna laugh even harder. He leaned down, grasped Blaine by his shoulders, yanked him up onto his feet, then embraced him.
“Is… that a good sign?” Jorge whispered to Sonya.
“I hope so…” Sonya cleared her throat. “Blaine? Is everything okay?”
“Es okay!” Elgin Mordha thundered as he clapped Blaine on the back hard enough to make him stumble. “You okay!”
“You speak Aureumian, too?” Sonya asked.
Elgin Mordha shrugged and held his thumb and forefinger near each other. “Little bit. Now sit! Drink!”
He clapped his hands loudly and shouted something, then dropped down onto the fur rug. Blaine did likewise, so Sonya and Jorge followed suit. The four sat in a loose circle as a boy hurried in holding a small wooden cask in his arms. Elgin Mordha pried the cork free from the cask as the boy hurried out of the tent and returned with four small wooden cups.
The Tighearna filled each of their cups from the cask, then jammed the cork back into the hole. Sonya took a precautionary sniff and found the aroma very strange. The smell of strong alcohol was similar to vodka, but there was an unfamiliar smoky quality to it as well. When she took a sip, the flavor was even more pronounced.
Jorge immediately began coughing after he took a sip. His eyes became watery and it was clear he was striving valiantly to keep a neutral face.
Sonya grinned. “I thought apothecaries lost their sense of taste, Jorge.”
“Eventually,” he said. “I’ve only been studying a few years.”
“So!” Elgin Mordha had a volume and presence that seemed to immediately take control of any situation. “Bhuidseach Sonah! What es you want?”
Sonya looked questioningly at Blaine. “Bhuidseach?”
“Et mean… eh… wizard? Or girl is… witch?” He pointed to his eyes. “You ha’ the witch’s mark.”
“Oh, my eyes. And that… doesn’t bother you?”
“No, no!” Elgin Mordha cut in. “Bhuidseach honor Clan Greim with visit! Bring… eh… how ya’ say good luck? Aye! Good luck!”
“Oh. That’s great.” Sonya couldn’t help wishing her own people were so