A Castrovel Adventure: Part 5, Chapter 35

~O'mei Vaeol-Ile rendya Qabaratya domonye o'evoassi hoafora yanora.~ (In which Lady Vaeol forsakes Qabarat politics and seeks a new challenge.)

From the Daylog of Vaeol-Zheieveil Yaranevae be’Son

8. Koelae, 24,547 - 9th Month in Qabarat

Today I did something I had forespoken for the new year and, after all the evil we had undergone, wished to so do even more. After an early watch at the Embassy (and short, since still I have not forgiven Her Highness for her slight at Kaure), I clothed in a mere halter and waistcloth. Bearing Aeosel and with Remaue and Kaure ahost, we went to the Battle Yards. My goal, however, was not drill, but instead of the Inner Yards, as are named the sundry weaponyards which inlet only chosen warriors. Namefully, we sought one that Krastaes had yestermonth boded in his leafwrit: the Lemussa Yard, which we found on the Battle Yard’s southern end, where a hedge flanked a gate, and watched by two stonecarven Korasha wielding spears at high ward, making the lintel.
We trod inside and beheld gods. They stood carven on footstones ringing the yard’s sides, eldlessly chiseled in the earth’s hard bone: scarred brows set with golden antennae over crushed noses and bearded cheeks, thick necks sloping to thew-bound shoulders and broad breasts over shieldlike midriffs and beamlike thighs, their manliness carven stiff as mightiness’s token. If I rightly knew lore, they were the yore champions of the Motorae Games who had belonged in life to this yard. Although forgone, they live forever in the Yard’s mind, a bequest to their afterbears.
Since we came at slumbertide, the yard was empty, though I bewared we were seen. Bywardly a grandfather outcame and asked our idleness. I beseeched Master Evauess, whereat the grandfather shrove he was so. I reckoned this Korasha older than my father while I bowed, who wore a waistcloth under a belly still slim after his many years, broad shoulders stooped. He shuffled while he strode, although with a smoothness hinting weight, not of the body but of stand, as if he could belie any trial to shift him, whatever the strength. I had beheld this whit in other weaponmasters enough to beware.
I also guessed how he saw me: a Damaya mother with babe in arm, taller and stronger than most, but still milk-heavy, the harsh, naked scar crawling over my brow and cheek, since we had offlifted the goldgum, and no other token hinting stallworth or deed. I gave my name as Vaeol of Son and beseeched intread to his yard, on a benameship from Krastaes u'Thisyeas Vomyauas my citymate, whom the yardmaster already knew. Whileward, I bewared other shapes gathering in the siderooms and wallboughs. I could read their eyesome inkling while they watched, misreckoning our purpose. Here were men of forproven doughtiness, among the city’s best, since one of their yardhood had won the other stead in the last City Games. Doubtlessly they also rankled under Damaya’s higher stallworth. They reminded me of Oshis, which betold they would yield little love.
Master Evauess took Krastaes’s leafwrit. By his mindfulness I guessed he could read, which told the whits I had hidden on greeting, that I am outrider and flagwife. Without looking, he said he kenned Krastaes, and grudgingly that he was somewhat doughty. Then he asked how I knew him. I answered Krastaes had thewed as my First Axe ere we left Son. This word raised the yardmaster’s brow, who seemingly had known Krastaes well enough as having mostly thewed as champion. He then asked how that deed had become. I told I had beaten Krastaes in Son’s City Games, whereat he had foreyielded to follow me.
I watched the yardmaster’s eyes deeming. Then he spoke I should rightfully know that in Qabarat Damaya and Korasha wontfully belong to shed weaponyards. He would not guess what I forelooked, but I would find no Damaya else here. I told I did not come to learn how to fight other Damaya, ~hei ollodara kolamara zhiathif,~ - but would learn from the city’s best. He warned I might flirt with shame so doing. I answered I had already learned shame, and he might freely leave it to me.
No sooner had I spoken but Master Evauess strode to a weaponrack holding canegrass drillstaves and wands. He chose one matching a swordbill’s length and tossed it to me, as if he foreknew my beloved weaponwise. For himself he chose a three-ell wand matching a shortbill. Listfully I offhanded Kaure my babe, bowed, and raised the staff to ward.
Heedless of my greater length, Master Evauess’s wand tip sought mine. Reckoning no reason to wait, I struck, thrusting at his shoulder. Subtly he shifted and offloaded my thrust. Then he leapt with a dithersome swiftness for so old and squat a Korasha, Anon he stood within my reachlength. I withdrew arear and sideward to dance from his reach. Then I spent the most match so fleeing his unswervable brunt, but for odd blows I hopelessly tried.
I right started to lose breath when he called halt. ~Olli vusise,~ - “You shift well,” he acknowledged shortly, and bemarked I doubtlessly brook length to beat Korasha, to which I must merely bow. ~O’zhiathi-nae risise o soaratha,” he added: “You must learn to fight at nearness.” Then he brunted again, and if I had mishthought his earlier strokes swift, I ruefully mistook. He scuffled within my arms, even hunched under my staff, and I could neither stir nor upchoke my hastily enough. His shoulder brunted my midriff. When I staggered, his short wand slapped my arm. Then he inbrunted again, and I got no halt from his stinging blows but to try to block and dodge, although I could not flee under any luck.
After however long I kenned not the yardmaster halted, leaving me a wobbling, breathless patch of welts. I stood sharp, staff set aground but not holding my weight, since I would not yield him idleness of my sight so broken. He so left me while he set his wand back in the weaponrack. ~Ollaea-ruaelise,~ - “You’ll do,” he begrudged. Then with an eye to my breast he asked whether I am still milksome. When I yaysaid, he asked whether Aeosel is old enough to wean. Withholdingly I answered yes. He beread the time come, since, even more than the milkweight, it drains quickness I will want for next year’s Games. Then he bade that, if I still wish to learn, I should come back tomorrow, but to leave my harness. At his behest, I bowed, put my staff in the rack, and left with my wifemates.
After but that one bout with the yardmaster, I feel a swollen pack of green and orange bruises from the wand’s strokes he so idly laid. Remaue got me in the bath after homecome, and then a stout rubdown with a balm of aloe and myrrh. Tomorrow I will be stiff, and misluckily slower. I will also miss suckling my son. Yet the next step on the Ten-Thousand Stair has begun.

12. Koelae, 24,547 - 9th Month in Qabarat
These latter days I have been too weary or busy to write. I am trending every third day at the Lemussa Yard, then rider-drill at the Battle Yards, and the last merely to give my body rest. And amid watch at the Embassy and whatever ladyhood gatherdom may be too worthy to withstand.
The Lemussa Yard has made me again feel like a newling. Furthermore, since I am weaning Aeosel, my bosom hurts at any shock. No halter or wrap holds tightly enough. So far as I reck, my milk cannot dry too swiftly. Even worse, my babe wails for it, against the fruit and broth he already eats. Even when he reads my thought, he understands not. We are a woeful little kindred. Under whatever luck, Master Evauess now has me lifting weights more than fighting, which is his first step to infight, and also wearisome, but at least forestands less likelihood of my teats stricken. It also means that, when he has me fight, I am too slow to shift length.
In else news, my new business has drawn our housemate’s mind. Our men wardfully bewared my new gathership of bruises, and so outwilled to follow. Their deed brought nighmost our whole household along to the weaponyard, the outcome whereof, after Remaue led some hard, hasty bargain, is that we all may drill at the Lemussa Yard. When Master Evauess asked our fee, I bade he should send the dearth-bill to the Embassy. I reckon Her Highness wishes a Games win even more than my ill will, and so will yield the fee.
Thus after all settled, we mainly have me, Oshis, Less, Hanos, and Kaure my every-trooper at my side, who has taken to this weapondrill with an eagerness belying she had ever been the meek Shotalashu groom we had first met. Sometimes Istae (against Taiase’s gainsaith, who still bethinks warriorcraft too heathen) and Semuane cleave, although I reckon they are more driven to play the spear-trial (wherein also Erymi, Draue, and Nae meanly drill, and Tae at the arrow ride). Yet inthriftily Sievae too has come, which I had not forelooked, but who has thrown herself into footdrill with a fierce will. Elsewise, Remaue oversees us watered and watches the children. She shamelessly flirts with the yardfellows (and Master Evauess, though he haughtily withstands), but maybe thereby gleans a little goodwill.
Our new yardfellows I have found wary and slowly welcomesome, uneasily trusting we Damaya may misbrook our higher stallworth when skill lacks. We have done utmost to show listful worship under our betters. Here ingather no less than five yesteryear Games champions, and Soaras who won the last Motorae’s other stead. The younger fellows seem chosen for eyesome skill and knack. Yet reckfully merely half have undergone warfare after firdhood, and most whereof beheld mean thewdom in Valmaeana with little wrathfulness. Those who have undergone bloodshed have a grimness in their fightwise betelling they understand how forsooth our craft becomes, a whit our flag shares, and maybe bestows an earnest edge to our strides and blows. The veterans acknowledge it. I also have an inkling Remaue has been spreading my tale of beating Krastaes, Kazos, and Byreath, so bemarking me worthily fell.
But one man, a new fellow right from firdhood named Meiss, did not so behave. We were fighting shortbill-length wands (which has been fiendish at such short length that I cannot easily cast blows at length). Yet Meiss eyesomely withheld full strength, likely from intaught dread of Damaya, which bereaved him a loss he should easily shun. Straightway Master Evauess outthought: ~Zhauahi~ - “Wrack him,” he bade. So I harried Meiss hard the next twelvesome strides and maybe told half so many blows. Still Meiss withheld, although I could tell his bother overwhelming.
At last when my breath lost and I almost could not raise the wand, Master Evauess yelled halt. Then sternly he chided Meiss: ~O’soarathi foyelis, o yofoe eshodi sirrye!~ - “When next you strike, knock her on her rear!” bellowed the yardmaster.
To bemark Master Evauess’s rede, I leapt at Meiss and loosened another stroke-swarm, which he shrewdly blocked and offshoved. When I wheeled back again, he forestalled and struck my midriff, which, bequeathed a nice long bruise and gritted my teeth. Yet his quickness, although he did not knock me arear, seemingly belithed the yardmaster. In needless word, Oshis, Less, and Hanos, among the seldom tides we have sparred, have felt no withholdingness shoving me about the yard, although I still own too much of Oshis’s head from the Komori and easily win.

Recap: Vaeol, Taiase, and Istae were ordered to let the city hush the scandal following from the Motorae Eve riot.

Lashunta Words & Phrases:

• Hei: but
• Ollodara kolamara (comm acc): best of the city
• Zhiathif (1st-trans cond): I/we will/may learn
• Olli (adv): well
• Vusise (2nd-fem intrans): you shift/move
• O’zhiathi-nae (adv): must learn
• Risise (2nd-fem intrans): you will/may fight
• O soaratha: at nearness; close range
• Ollaea-ruaelise (2nd-fem intrans humble): you are good; you'll do
• Zhauahi (imp): wrack/punish [him]
• O’soarathi (adv): next time
• Foyelis (2nd-trans depend): when you strike/attack
• O yofoe (imp): then knock/beat
• Eshodi sirrye: until (her) rear
• Komori (spir): Lashunta psychic mental illness