Chapter#08
Tashka had rushed up to a straggling crowd of troopers in casually unbuttoned black and blue cotton tunics and was elbowing and kicking a way between them. Vadya tunnelled in his wake, the troopers reluctantly shuffling away on either side of him. Tashka was already jumping on the two men sprawled over the ground at their centre.
The plump soft figure of Mada el Vaie, still in buttoned up summer uniform, was seated on top of a struggling big muscular figure in casual civilian gear. Hanya Lein was a battle-hardened young soldier who would ordinarily have had no difficulty in flooring the inexperienced el Vaie but as he came pushing past the bodies of the troopers, Vadya saw Mada el Vaie bring up a clenched right fist and send it smacking with rage into Hanya's butter blond head. Hanya's head jerked to the side, his big hands flying up to block Mada, reaching to try and grab at Mada at the same time. Mada's usually gentle brown face was staring with fury, his eyes wide and glaring. For the first time Vadya could see the military potential in him which had been promised by his letters of recommendation.
Tashka grabbed Mada by the collar of his black tunic, dragged him off Hanya and flung him kicking and yelling to one side. Hanya sprang up, fists ready to the defence, and saw Tashka. He sank back on his heels, his fair head, cropped short at the back and sides, turning suddenly away.
Vadya saw Flava Trait, the most experienced of Tashka's four Lieutenants, struggling to get through troopers who were half-heartedly impeding him. Volka el Darien was standing by with his arms ostentatiously folded on his thin chest, his face carefully expressionless. Flava gave a savage shove at one of the men blocking his way.
Mada el Vaie was already trying to come at Hanya again as if he had not realised who the tall figure in dark blue silk was, crouched to defend Hanya. Flava Trait and one of the soldiers had to seize him by the arms and pull him aside, kicking and struggling.
Tashka straightened up. Vadya saw the colour drain completely out of his face. His own heart had gone cold, he was remembering Tashka crouched to defend a fatally wounded young Lieutenant in that rocky defile in V'ta. Tashka's face went paler than the lace at his throat, it became a white-grey mask, his blue eyes blazed in it like lapis lazuli. Then the colour crept slowly back into his face, he turned round and faced Hanya Lein.
Hanya was kneeling in the grass, his breath heaving raggedly in his chest and blood trickling from a cut by his eye. The blue cotton shirt he was wearing was torn, the hard clearly delineated muscles of his chest showing through. He suddenly dropped his head and began to pick at the rip in his shirt, his fingers shaking with adrenaline, fear, fury.
Mada crumpled suddenly to the ground and started sobbing. Flava tried to put an arm around him but Mada beat his fellow Lieutenant's hand away, crying: "leave me be!"
Tashka stooped down and rested one hand on Hanya's broad shoulder and Hanya's blond head flicked up to face Tashka's, barely six inches away. Tashka said: "How dare you bring your filthy politics to a fight in my Quarter!"
Vadya gave an angry grunt. He looked past the troopers around him at Lieutenant-Lord Volka el Darien, who was staring away at the horizon, a satisfied set to his thin shoulders.
Hanya's head twisted from side to side as if to escape Tashka's cold blue glare then he said in a strained high-pitched voice: "He struck me with 's glove!"
Tashka straightened up and moved round to stand behind him, one hand still on his broad shoulder. "el Vaie!" his voice cracked out like ice breaking. Mada's dark close-curled head lifted and he struggled to stand up, his baby soft young face streaming with tears. "el Vaie," Tashka spoke slowly as if to someone who could barely understand. "Hanya is a merchant's son. His family are not in the habit of fighting duels."
"I ... I ... I never thought!" Mada sobbed. "He is ... the same to me as Volka! If Volka s-said, if Volka said ...!"
Tashka gripped his hand on Hanya's shoulder. Hanya looked up with pleading blue eyes into his Captain's cold blue eyes and said: "One of my men had some ... some pictures off one of his. I told him he ought to undertake an inspection of the troopers' bedding rolls, then el Darien said it was beneath his notice. I only said you would send him home to his sister if he were too lazy to do it."
"That is not all!" Mada cried out. "He said, my 'honourable' sister!"
Vadya screwed his face up. Tashka lifted his head to look into Vadya's eye in a brief blue flash of amusement. He turned back to Hanya and said, "Mada's sister's honour ... is shining bright." This was a somewhat loose account of the flamboyant Lady el Vaie van Soomara's reputation and the way he said it made this plain. "I will give the glove myself for the honour of young Lady van Soomara," he added sternly. Vadya could only imagine Lady el Vaie's delight and hilarity at this prospect, she would be bound to say she would rather have the favours of someone so gorgeous than his glove on behalf of her honour.
Hanya turned red with embarrassment. "I ... never meant," he stammered. "Of course not," Tashka interrupted, he swung his gaze back to Mada el Vaie, saying: "Angels' sake, do you honestly suppose Lein, your brother officer, would tease you about your family in such a way?" Hanya Lein had retained a sweetness of heart in spite of his active battle experience. Tashka had frequently commended him for his good natured support of the younger Lieutenants. Mada's tearfilled brown eyes fell before the appeal in Hanya's embarrassed soft blue eyes.
"You are a soldier now," Tashka said to Hanya. The stern note in his voice dissipated into the weary tone of someone bored with repeating the same thing over and over. "You cannot live by the politics of your family. el Vaie ought not to have offered you the glove, because he is your brother officer, but it was a matter of family honour so you ought to take it or submit."