“Khaj pa ve,” the woman said. “Khaj pa ve.”
Though Nikolai was curious, he had more pressing matters to attend to. “I know it is little comfort, but we should discuss what aid the crown can offer in recompense for your lost land and homes. I will—”
“I’ll speak to the governor,” Zoya said briskly.
Nikolai had intended to talk with Mirov himself, since the man’s interest in status might make him susceptible to attention from royalty. But Zoya was already directing her mount his way.
“Be charming,” he warned her under his breath.
She flashed him a warm smile and a wink. “I will.”
“That was very convincing.”
The smile vanished in an instant. “I’ve had to watch you smarm all over Ravka for years. I’ve learned a few tricks.”
“I don’t smarm.”
“Occasionally you smarm,” said Tolya.
“Yes,” conceded Nikolai. “But it’s endearing.”
He watched Zoya slide down from her horse and lead Mirov away. The man looked nearly slack-jawed, a frequent side effect of Zoya’s beauty and general air of murderousness. Perhaps there were some things more intoxicating than status for Mirov after all.
But Zoya hadn’t been pressing an advantage with Mirov. She was running away. She hadn’t wanted that Suli woman to confront her, and that wasn’t like his general. At least, it hadn’t been. Since she’d lost Juris, since their battle on the Fold, Zoya had changed. It was like he was viewing her from a distance, like she’d taken a step away from everyone and everything. And yet she was sharp as always, armor firmly in place, a woman who moved through the world with precision and grace, and little time for mercy.
He turned his attention to the Suli. “For your safety, it might be best if you moved on tonight.”
Their leader bristled. “Whatever this horror is, we had nothing to do with it.”
“I know that, but when night falls, cooler heads may not prevail.”
“Is this what protection from Ravka’s king looks like? A command to scurry into the shadows?”
“It’s not an order, it’s a suggestion. I can station armed men here to defend your camp, but I don’t think you’d welcome their presence.”
“You would be right.”
Nikolai didn’t want to leave these people with no place to shelter. “If you’d like, I can send word to Countess Gretsina to open her fields to you.”
“She would welcome Suli on her lands?”
“She will or she won’t get any of the new threshers we’re distributing to farms.”
“This king deals in both bullets and blackmail.”
“This king rules men, not Saints. Sometimes more than prayer is required.”
The man released a huff of laughter. “On that we can agree.”
“Tell me,” said Nikolai to the woman beside the Suli leader, attempting to keep his voice casual. “You said something to General Nazyalensky.”
“Nazyalensky,” she said with a laugh.
Nikolai’s brows rose. “Yes. What did you say to her?”
“Yej menina enu jebra zheji, yepa Korol Rezni.”
The Suli man laughed. “She said her words were for the general and not for you, King of—”
“I understood that part just fine,” said Nikolai. Korol Rezni. King of Scars. Of the many things he’d been called, it certainly wasn’t among the worst, but at the sound of those words, the demon in him stirred. Easy now, we’ve reached an understanding, you and I. Though the demon wasn’t much for logic.
Over the next hour, Nikolai and Tamar interviewed the Suli who were willing to describe the blight to them, then reconvened with Tolya and Zoya.
“Well?” he asked, as they rode back to the hilltop.
“Same as near Balakirev,” said Tolya. “A blot of shadow rolling over the countryside, like night coming on too quickly. Everything the shadow touches succumbs to blight—livestock, property, even people dissolve into smoke, leaving behind nothing but barren earth.”
“Pilgrims came through only a day ago,” said Zoya. “Followers of the Starless One. They claim this is punishment for the reign of a faithless king.”
“How unfair. I have plenty of faith,” Nikolai objected.
Tolya raised a brow. “In what?”
“Good engineering and better whiskey. Did Mirov and his friends break bread with the pilgrims and give them a fair hearing for their treason?”