12-14-2016, 04:21 PM
For some strange reason, he felt a sense of pleasure at her smile. There was something knowing and content in it. Trust. It was curious. Most people's obedience to him came from their being intimidated by him, either physically or intellectually. He was used to commanding a room by his very presence, hearing the talk fade to near silence as they waited for him to speak. Fear, intimidation, force of will. Very useful tools.
From almost none did it come from trust. Nor did it need to.
He understood. Very rarely did he show all his cards or explain more than was absolutely necessary, all of which was a requisite to that kind of obedience. So this was a new experience for him. And this girl left him wondering, now.
He filed the thought away and focused on the task at hand. What had Rasputin stored down here? Why? And why bring the Khylsty here too? More importantly, what was his purpose here? Above it all, who was the purposer?
The chest nearest to them drew his attention. It seemed to place in the center of the chamber, as if it were the more important. Very well. He would start with that one. The lid was old and dusty, the wood dry and slightly curved, recessed metal straps running down the side. No lock kept the lid closed and yet it resisted being opened. They brute forced it, the nails squeeling as they were forced out of their channel and the ancient wood splitting in some places at it opened.
The light from lantern mode lit up the contents and on the top sat a folded hide, grey brown fur mottled on white. He looked at her for a moment, blue eyes taking in green, before cautiously reaching out and taking it. Not that expected there to be danger. But expecting and finding did not always go hand in hand. The fur was soft and it unfolded easily as he drew it out. It had been cured properly so there was no stiffness. Strange. The fur was luxurious even. Not the sort of thing he expected. His eyes flicked over the other chests. Did they merely contain treasures? Why the secrecy then?
There had to be more too this. Perhaps it was padding or protection for what was underneath. He handed her one corner and then held it out to let it fall open to its full length. Then he switched hands so the skin faced out.
The light played over faded markings on the skin side. Lines twisted and undulated, meeting and separating. Faded characters- Cyrillic by the look of them, though oddly formed- appeared at branchings and endings. It was a map. And yet when he tried to read them, they made no sense. He knew what they were supposed to be phonetically, but it wasn't Russian. Nor was it any other Slavic language, for that matter. There were no recognizable roots or endings.
Softly, he sounded out words chosen at random. "Agi-tki. Singilgen-duli. Lang-ngachin." The words were meaningless to him. He looked at her, the question plain in his eyes. More than that, a hint of a smile played over his lips. A mystery.
From almost none did it come from trust. Nor did it need to.
He understood. Very rarely did he show all his cards or explain more than was absolutely necessary, all of which was a requisite to that kind of obedience. So this was a new experience for him. And this girl left him wondering, now.
He filed the thought away and focused on the task at hand. What had Rasputin stored down here? Why? And why bring the Khylsty here too? More importantly, what was his purpose here? Above it all, who was the purposer?
The chest nearest to them drew his attention. It seemed to place in the center of the chamber, as if it were the more important. Very well. He would start with that one. The lid was old and dusty, the wood dry and slightly curved, recessed metal straps running down the side. No lock kept the lid closed and yet it resisted being opened. They brute forced it, the nails squeeling as they were forced out of their channel and the ancient wood splitting in some places at it opened.
The light from lantern mode lit up the contents and on the top sat a folded hide, grey brown fur mottled on white. He looked at her for a moment, blue eyes taking in green, before cautiously reaching out and taking it. Not that expected there to be danger. But expecting and finding did not always go hand in hand. The fur was soft and it unfolded easily as he drew it out. It had been cured properly so there was no stiffness. Strange. The fur was luxurious even. Not the sort of thing he expected. His eyes flicked over the other chests. Did they merely contain treasures? Why the secrecy then?
There had to be more too this. Perhaps it was padding or protection for what was underneath. He handed her one corner and then held it out to let it fall open to its full length. Then he switched hands so the skin faced out.
The light played over faded markings on the skin side. Lines twisted and undulated, meeting and separating. Faded characters- Cyrillic by the look of them, though oddly formed- appeared at branchings and endings. It was a map. And yet when he tried to read them, they made no sense. He knew what they were supposed to be phonetically, but it wasn't Russian. Nor was it any other Slavic language, for that matter. There were no recognizable roots or endings.
Softly, he sounded out words chosen at random. "Agi-tki. Singilgen-duli. Lang-ngachin." The words were meaningless to him. He looked at her, the question plain in his eyes. More than that, a hint of a smile played over his lips. A mystery.