“Things probably didn’t stabilize until, what?” Mezhimar looked at Vaneshta. “Until after the big territory wars?”
“Mmm yeah, I think so. Six or seven years ago. After General Horvol was killed.”
Her fingers paused their endless twisting.
“The last general was a Horvol?” Iryana asked.
“Yeah, Marik Horvol, Karvek and Pyetar’s father.”
That could explain why Pyetar wanted to be in control so badly, even though he wasn’t even technically a captain. His daddy used to be in charge.
“He was—” Vaneshta trailed off, looking around as if looking for the right word.
“A hard-ass,” Mezhimar supplied.
“A bit strict,” Vaneshta corrected. “He was tough, had very high expectations, and his punishments were severe. But it was not a good time for the military back then. We had little resources after the settlements kept us out. We had to figure out how to survive out here. General Horvol got us through those first nine years after the dakii came. A gentle hand couldn’t have done that.”
“I guess.” Mezhimar scrunched up his nose.
Things hadn’t been easy on her side either, but Iryana wasn’t going to risk upsetting them by saying that.
“So,” she pondered. “Is that why Pyetar is the way he is? Why Karvek lets him get away with so much?”
Vaneshta gave her a warning look. “Pyetar isn’t half as strict as his father, but who knows what happens between the Horvols.”
Mezhimar leaned forward conspiratorially. “The 18th Brigade had been led by a Horvol for generations, but Marik had no adult relatives in the brigade other than his sister, and she isn’t technically in the military. Karvek was only 25 when his father died, far too green to be put in charge of the brigade.”
That could explain a lot, but as curious as she was, it wasn’t going to help her.
“But back to the dakii,” she blurted, trying to take advantage of their chattiness. “Are there usually younger ones that don’t engage? That isn’t normal in my experience.”
Vaneshta frowned, reflecting, but Mezhimar answered immediately, “I think I've seen it before, especially with the larger packs. I remember taking one out a few missions before you arrived.”
So, not a one-time thing.
Vaneshta looked at her for a long moment, as if unsure whether she wanted to explain further. But then she sighed and began detailing the set of expected encounters based on how the dakii engaged with them, when they were most common, and which formations were to be used in those cases. It was impressively detailed. Iryana hung on to every word, trying to commit them to memory.
She had so many questions. “What if—”
“Ah,” Vaneshta stopped her with a raised hand. “I am getting lunch now. Come on, Mezho.”
Iryana relaxed back onto her bench, settling into the following silence. She twisted all the new information she’d learned just as she twisted the sinew between her fingers.
Later that afternoon, with her bow-string weighed down in her room to stretch as it dried, Iryana found herself in the hall just as soldiers were gathering for dinner. She chose one of the empty tables in the front to sit at, though she knew she should have sat with her team. But she didn’t want the distraction; her mind was too busy.
Besides, she was failing with them already, wasn’t she?
Iryana spent most of the dinner period hunched over a pile of papers at the otherwise empty table, staying far later than she usually did, sketching out the movements of the dakii from her last encounter as well as those Vaneshta had detailed. It wasn’t entirely different from what Iryana was used to, but the larger packs definitely seemed more structured.
Completely ignoring the couple making small gasping noises at the table next to her, Iryana shuffled through the pages again, choosing two different ones to compare.
She stared at the little diagrams, mind churning, until she was sure her theory was correct.
The beasts weretrainingthe younger generation.
“Interesting work.”
Iryana jumped, looking up to find Karvek standing next to her table, looking at her mess of papers and sketches.
