Verena's Whistle: Varangian Descendants Book I by K. Panikian (essential reading txt) 📗

mid-40s, maybe, with a stern expression on his serious face.

He gestured to the table and Dmitri sat beside me. The woman shut the door, standing beside it with her hands behind her back, and the officer sat across from us.

He asked Dmitri a question and at the older man’s answer, switched to English.

“Your associates are refusing to answer my questions. I must hold all of you until someone tells me what is going on.”

I stared at him blankly. He’d picked up Theo and Julian too? He saw my confusion and said, “Yes, I have your associates in a cell across the way. They refused to surrender their swords and so we tased them and then disarmed them. They are fine.”

He continued, “The man with you in the clearing has regained consciousness. He’s in the med ward being monitored. The doctor has told me he appears to be merely exhausted, not ill.

“So, you see, I’m sharing lots of information. Do you have information for me? Why are you in my mountains, carrying swords and knives, and wearing chain mail?”

My mouth dropped open. Chain mail? Not Theo and Julian, then. He must have picked up part of the Varangian crew. My mind raced. What on earth could I tell him?

“Okay, I will answer,” Dmitri said and I turned to him quickly, my hand out to stop him.

Dmitri stretched his own hand forward on the table and sketched a shape in the air, like a lightning bolt, and the image of a double-headed axe briefly appeared, strapped to his back, before vanishing. He was suddenly taller and grimmer.

“You know me, Vitaly Ivanov,” he said in a deep, echoing voice. His blue eyes glowed brightly as the room around us turned black.

“Perun?” The commander asked, his voice stunned and his eyes wide. I stared as well.

“You may call me Dmitri in this time and place. I am just here to help a small amount. You must let these people go on their way. Their task doesn’t concern you.”

What was going on? I looked at the woman by the door but she stared into the distance in front of us, appearing not to see or hear our side of the room.

“You must also leave this area for a little while. Maybe a training exercise to the south?”

“I must insist,” the officer, Ivanov, tried to continue, but hesitated when Dmitri slammed his hand on the table.

“You know me,” his voice thundered. The lights flickered.

The officer’s face paled and he nodded. “I know you. I will do as you say.”

Dmitri sat down, looking affable once more. The glow in his eyes dimmed. “Thank you,” he said.

Ivanov stood and went to the woman at the door. He spoke a few words to her and she turned and left the room.

He came back to our table and said to Dmitri seriously. “I can only give you one week. If, in one week, there are still people with medieval weapons, strange explosions, and giant patches of blood and ashes in my zone, I will have to act. I have a responsibility to keep peace here. My superiors will not be swayed by commands from the old gods.”

I swallowed.

Dmitri agreed, “Yes, one week, that is sufficient.” He smiled at the officer. “You may ask me,” he said gently.

The officer knelt in front of him, bowed his head, and said, “Perun, Sky God, may I have your blessing?”

Dmitri tenderly put a hand on top of the officer’s bent head and murmured something, his face kind. There was a pulse of pale blue in the room, an echo of the bright blaze of Dmitri’s eyes. Ivanov stayed bowed for a minute and then stood again.

There was a knock at the door and the woman from earlier spoke from the hall. Ivanov gestured to us, “Please come.”

We followed the two of them back down the hall and out into the snow. Standing in front of the building, guarded by three men with large guns, were two tall Varangian men. They wore chain mail on top of long tunics and their faces were hidden in the hoods of their cloaks. They stood with their arms crossed, looking fierce and out of time.

I heard another door open and turned to see Owen walking out, looking tired but unhurt. His gaze lasered on me and I saw his shoulders slump momentarily in relief. I took a shaky breath. When he came up beside me, I snagged his hand and squeezed and he pulled me tight to his side, inhaling deeply.

“Hey, what’d I miss?” he asked in a whisper. “Who are the tall guys?”

“I’ll tell you later,” I whispered back.

Ivanov gestured us forward and said something to the soldiers guarding the Varangians. They lowered their guns and stepped back. We all walked out of the open gates of the facility. Ivanov stopped at the entrance and said again firmly, “One week.” Then he walked back inside and gestured. The gates shut behind him and we were outside in the snow.

I stared at the two Varangians and felt the weight of their return stares pressing into me.

Chapter 24

“Hello,” I tried, smiling at the two hooded men. No response.

“I don’t think they speak English,” Owen said.

Of course not. Why would they?

I added a friendly wave next and then gestured to myself, “Verena,” and to Owen, “Owen.” Still nothing. I pointed at Dmitri and then paused.

He smiled at me and said, “Dmitri is still fine.”

I cleared my throat and pointed at him, “Dmitri.” Then I gestured to the men, still staring at me. I opened my hand at them and made a sort of “come on” gesture.

The taller one in the dark green tunic spoke first, “Bard.” Then he pointed at the slightly shorter man in blue and said, “Cato.” I still couldn’t see their faces under their cloaks, but his tone seemed pleasant.

Suddenly I heard a creaking noise from the gate again and turned back to it quickly, expecting to be taken into custody again. Instead, it was