Queen of Embers

VIII. Talking

The axe cut smoothly through the section of log balanced on the splitting stump, propelled by Sorne's considerable strength. Even without the chants, she could hold her own in a fight and carry out any chores she needed to. She wasn't a servant any longer, but it was easier to mull over a problem when her hands were busy.

Katalin was unscathed. No attack materialized even when Sorne and the others were away, which was a relief. Ekaitz was still fuming, but he was off with the soldiers, hunting for any plans of the non-magical variety. Sorne didn't give him much thought, her mind turning to other places. The battle brought memories to the surface. In the moment, she was fine. But now that the dust was settled and her blood was cool, the center of her chest ached.

Sorne doubted that she would ever be free of war.

The next blow of the axe hit harder, splitting the log and biting deeply into the splitting stump. She bent down and grabbed the pieces, tossing them to the pile she'd accumulated. There was a rhythm to the work that soothed a little bit of the pain, probably because she was focusing some of her energy elsewhere.

She stopped when she saw Vipsania approaching. Her back and arms hadn't started to ache, other than the bruises left by passing through that ward. There was just a pleasant feeling of exertion. "Something wrong?" Sorne asked.

"I thought you might want help, domina." Vipsania gestured to the pile of firewood. "I can stack while you split."

Sorne nodded. It was strange to have someone else helping. Vridash usually gave her space, under the assumption that she didn't want to talk or be bothered, and he was usually right to. However, she found she didn't mind. Vipsania gave no sign that she wanted to pry, nor did she strike up a conversation. The western woman just started to add the pieces to the stacks of firewood for the kitchens, constructing her addition with methodical attention to how each piece fit with the others.

It was Sorne who broke the surprisingly peaceful silence after a few dozen more pieces were split. "Do you miss the west?" she asked quietly.

Vipsania picked up two more pieces thoughtfully. "Yes and no," the soldier said. "The legion was a life of purpose, and I do miss Arcem Solis. It was far to the southwest, even within the Imperium, on the shores of the Argentum Mare. I miss hearing my own language most of all. And yet...there is a freedom here in the east that never existed in the Imperium. I could be anything I wish here, and that is...frighteningly wonderful."

Sorne smiled, setting the axe down. She picked up a few pieces of wood and tried to stack them as carefully as Vipsania was. "That's one way of putting it. So what do you plan on being, Vipsania?"

"I have no idea," Vipsania admitted. "This world is strange to me. I will understand it in time, I hope, and then perhaps I will know what I wish to be."

"I'm sorry I'm pulling you into another war," Sorne said. She understood the desire to do anything but fight. "It sounded like you wanted to get away from fighting."

"And someday, my world will be calm, even if it is not now," the western woman said as she worked. The answer had the same sort of steadiness that Sorne was coming to expect from Vipsania. It was reassuring. "Even the greatest storms do not last forever, yes? Besides, it is not as though you sought out this conflict."

There was a definite glimmer of hope in the western woman's words. Sorne hoped to high heaven that it wasn't misplaced. "I take it Vridash told you about the deal," Sorne said. It was hardly secret and she certainly didn't care if Vipsania knew.

Vipsania nodded before adding the next few pieces. Between the two of them, the pile was quickly dwindling. Their addition to the stack was neat and solid. "It is a sacrifice worthy of admiration. Not everyone would have made such a decision to risk what they have and abandon their peace in exchange for the safety of others."