Dolohov Family/Rescue part 2

Chapter Three: Reunion

"Stop staring, Kep."

"What in the nine hells are you doing here, Al?"

Alexei pulled his cloak around him and sat gingerly in the chair at the head of the table. "Same as you -- rescuing Uncle Vasily." He smiled wanly. "Sit down, you're making me nervous."

Kepler stood behind his chair, gripping the back white-knuckled. "I'm surprised you heard of it. SEI's a long way off."

"I hear lots of things. I hear you're at war with Darka -- funny, when we were kids we used to play pickup football games against some of the people you're slaughtering out there. You lost Mattlu pissing them off, didn't you?"

"I didn't -- "

Alexei waved it off with his right hand. "Relax. I know all about their dealings. Your enemies get together and pay off Darka to prevent you aiding Eston. Moderately clever, I suppose. There's no such thing as an ex-dictator when it comes to secret police." His eyes twinkled. "I even know who, and how much."

Kepler started.

"But in this case, Kep, it wasn't needed. Old Uncle Vasily wrote to me himself. Apparently I'm the only one he can trust."

Kepler slammed his fist on the table. "That miserable, filthy son of a whore." He pointed a finger at the captain. "Turn this ship around at once."

"Belay that, captain. This is my boat, you miserably clean-cut grandson of a whore, and it goes where I tell it to. Even if I force you to do what it ought to be you doing instead of me. Now sit down and eat."

Kepler's face, turned purple, started to relax. He pulled the chair out quietly and sat. "Damn you," he grumbled. "You don't like Father any more than I do. I don't know what your angle is, but it sure as hell isn't family."

Alexei mock-gasped. "I'm positively wounded."

"I noticed. Don't think you'll get any sympathy from me."

"Figure of speech." He pursed his lips. "You don't miss much, do you, Kep?"

"Pretty obvious. You've lost blood, and you're using your right hand for everything."

"What is it Aunt Agatha used to say?"

" 'It's all fun and games until someone loses an eye?' "

"No, the other."

"Um. Oh, 'No blood, no sympathy.'"

"That's it. Crazy old bat. Bled like a geyser, I'll have you know."

"And it's a darned shame. Pass the bread."

---

Rasputin debarked the ship gladly. More than a fortnight at sea had left him dizzy, unhappy, and a good half stone lighter. Scorril didn't look very promising, but it did look solid, and that was good enough for him. He strode the length of the pier, then bent down and kissed a patch of grass in the sand. When he rose, Vasily's messenger was standing and looking worried.

"Sir, I was just at the tavern looking for lodgings, and our captain's there."

Rasputin smiled. "Well, it's good to see the old fellow getting onto dry land. Good for him!"

"No sir, you don't understand. He's talking to the other ship captains."

"Jolly good! Likely setting us up with the finest ship in port for the next leg of our trip. Come along, lad, we'll catch up to him."

The messenger followed dutifully, with a clouded look on his face. "Sir, I don' think the captain likes you much. You drove a pretty hard bargain back in Irombro."

"Nonsense! Businessmen respect a man who knows the best use of his gold. Sets a good example, and all that."

The messenger stood stricken, watching the sweating and panting knight climb the sand-dune with his luggage. "Good god," he murmured, "he actually believes every word he just said."