These Old Bones

8-2

"Well, there's a King now, and second generation at that. King Vroszav picked up his father's fears of usurpers." The sergeant sat back in his chair, rubbing his chin again. "Look, I'm loyal to the King, him and his father have done much for the Steppes. But, I can't stand by and see a good son of the Steppes killed because he's got the wrong name. So, I'll ask again. Family name?"

"Grey. I mean, Grüv. Brorzjav Grüv." Brorzjav never considered himself the smartest in any given room, but he knew when he received a warning. The sergeant was giving him a chance to remain among the living and Brorzjav decided to take it.

"Good. Good." The sergeant slapped his knees and stood, dragging the chair back behind his desk. He picked up his pen and wrote onto the sheet. "I think that will do, Brorzjav Grüv. I think it's best for everyone if you continue your journey and, perhaps, not return? Plenty of other places to settle down, eh?"

"Aye. Sounds like it's for best." Brorzjav didn't know whether to stand up or not. The sergeant stood and pointed to the door.

"Keep to the roads. If you're found travelling across country you might have to go through all this again." Brorzjav stood, picking up his belongings, and headed for the door. "Oh, avoid Frïra and Rūtruv. Most of the fighting is around those towns and keep your heads down if you meet any Gaavjolt Mercenaries. They're vicious bastards and won't hesitate to rob you or kill you."

"Thanks, boss. I appreciate your advice." Brorzjav pulled the door open.

"Your friends will be in the courtyard. Safe travels, Brorzjav Grüv." As Brorzjav closed the door, he saw the sergeant flop into his chair, rubbing his chin.

Not wanting to see if the sergeant changed his mind, Brorzjav strode in the direction Viriili and Tiera had left by. The corridor pointed straight to what appeared to be an outside door and he decided that must be the way out. Passing several soldiers, he kept his head down and pulled the door open.

He stepped out into the fresh air and felt like drawing in deep breaths. He hadn't realised how stifling it was inside that building. He also hadn't realised how much had changed in his old homeland. The roads, bridges and towns were one thing, but when people found themselves hunted down and killed due to having the wrong name, he knew his home had changed beyond imagining. He couldn't believe the clans stood for it. If any clans still existed.

Viriili and Tiera stood beside Tiera's horse, ready and waiting for him. Viriili gave him a smile, before catching herself and setting her mouth into a straight line. Tiera nodded. He returned the nod as he made his way across the courtyard, taking a twisting route to avoid the constant movement of soldiers. It felt good to see his two companions.

"They had no idea how to interrogate someone. I didn't feel at all intimidated." Viriili, of course, spoke first.

"What did they say to you, Grey? Did they ask about me or the little one?" Tiera stroked her horse's neck as she studied his face.

"Not as such." He stopped moving to swing the backpack up onto his shoulders and to strap Notch and its scabbard to his belt. "I think we should get out of here as soon as possible."

"You mean we're not going to spend a comfortable night at an inn?" He shook his head at Tiera's question. "Damn you, Grey! What have you done now?"

"I'll tell you both once we're back on the road." Without waiting for them to say anything more, he led the way out into the street.

He wasn't sure which way to go, he couldn't see any landmarks due to the tall buildings, he needed to head in one direction and hope. Now, outside the building, he tried to sift through everything running through his mind. From his feelings about the possible murders of his parents, to the ridiculous idea that his family name could ever be a threat to a king. He heard Tiera and Viriili chatting as they walked behind him and decided that maybe they didn't need to know.