Fathers' Honor by M.C.A. Hogarth

Author:M.C.A. Hogarth
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: M.C.A. Hogarth

8

“Foreith?” Haladir said. “Oh yes. It means ‘that foreign place’ or ‘that place where outsiders come from’. Associated with barbarism and threats.”

Armin rubbed his forehead, ignoring Petaq’s snickering. “Of course it does.”

“Did you expect otherwise?”

“I should have, and yet.”

“Foreith,” Petaq said with relish. “Who lives there? The foreign monsters? Raselithi, right? Or have you got a better word for us barbarians?”

“We call you mortals, sadly.”

“That’s rich, given that you people get sepsis and die of papercuts.”

“Ah, well. To name ourselves elsewise makes us feel that we can’t perish, regardless of reality. We are very good at denying realities we mislike.” Haladir looked over at Armin, who was busy denying the reality of his impending headache. “Mortals, we say: fuagealsa. Or, when we are being very rude, gealsa.”

“I want to hope that word is related in some way to the verb ‘to die’….”

“Only insomuch as someone wanted it to sound somewhat alike. And the contraction, I’m afraid, is rude only because it is contracted, because it is insulting not to take the time to fully pronounce a word.”

“You people,” Petaq said, shaking his head.

“Are barbarians, you will say?” Haladir studied the newest addition to his army, another dog.

“I was going to say ‘take being awful to an art.’ I’m not sure if that makes you extremely civilized or extremely barbarous, but it’s something else.”

“Have you been to the capital?” Armin asked Haladir.

“Oh, frequently. Twice a year, for most of my adult life.” The Eldritch set the new dog piece alongside the first from several sessions ago. “It is our duty.”

“A court thing,” Petaq said. “Like when we presented Vasiht’h’s kits.”

“Just like, yes.”

“You presented your grandchildren to an Empress?” Armin interrupted, ears akimbo.

“In formal dress!” Petaq grinned. “You should see the outfit, it’s impressive. My only regret is that I don’t have a sword like Vasiht’h’s.”

“Vasiht’h has a sword,” Armin repeated.

“Few are the individuals who will have a sword like his,” Haladir said, amused. “As he is carrying the Seni Galare dagger, which is an heirloom nearly as old as Settlement. You will have to fetch your own made fresh, Petaq-arii, if you can find a blacksmith who still knows the art. Call it the first sword of the… what is your family name? Do Glaseah have them?”

“We never use them,” Petaq said. “Surnames are a holdover from our makers trying to impose their culture on us.” He waggled his eyebrows at Armin. “Nice try, imperialist.”

“We did our best, but you uppity children wouldn’t respect authority.”

Looking from one to the other, Haladir said, “Is it truly possible to have such an amicable relationship with one another granted your history?”

Petaq sobered. “Yes. But I think maybe the key there is… the word ‘history’. Because it’s not something Armin did to me, or my family. It’s generations ago for both of us. If you’re worried about what’s happening now, you should be, because it’s happening to all of us personally, and we’re the ones who are going to live through the growing pains.”

“But I would expect a history that began in acrimony to continue to breed resentment,” Haladir said.

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