Expansion - Chapter 9

 

9 – Helvar – Protector’s Questions

Helvar writes Veshka Stone‑Waki on the barkskin, then hesitates. He adds a second line beneath it: Veshka Nodin‑Waki He studies the names written in runes, then quickly rewrites them using the syllabary.

“That looks better,” he mutters. His notes are his and his alone; the official report will be in runes, as required. But his private work? He prefers the syllabary. It captures nuance the priests never bother to learn.

“Too bad the Priests don’t truly understand Durn’s Hreinlog,” he murmurs. “They preach ‘Racial Purity’ like children reciting a chant. So shortsighted. Purity of Spirit and Thought matters far more.”

He pauses, the stylus hovering.

'I’d rather have a squad of true‑believer Bimkor than a legion of the ‘pure.’'

The thought lands heavy. His instructors would chastise him for even thinking it. He closes his eyes and hears Tholmir Kind‑Hand’s voice, calm and steady as ever: “Use whatever and whoever is available. We are the true keepers of Durn’s Laws. Let the zealot priests distract the crowds. We keep society together from the shadows. Even the Guilds are tools. Use them. Exploit them. Keep the faithful on the True path.”

Helvar exhales slowly.

Yes. That is the lesson. And he has never forgotten it.

A sharp knock on the doorframe breaks Helvar’s concentration.

“The goblin you requested,” a Legionnaire says.

Helvar nods. “Bring her in.”

Veshka steps inside. Her manacles clink as she stops across the table.

“Veshka, please sit and get comfortable,” Helvar says in Mishikwe.

She lifts her bound wrists. “If you want me comfortable, why put these on me?” she replies in Durask.

Helvar leans back, stroking his beard — the slightly unkempt look of a man who has slept too little and worked too long. “The Senior Legionnaire requires all of Bruna’s Children to wear restraints when away from their people. They fear you. I can’t change that.”

Veshka glances toward the Legionnaire standing in the doorway and snarls. “You are a coward. I walked the Grand Market with your kind, and now you fear me.”

The Legionnaire takes a step forward.

“STOP.” Helvar rises, voice sharp and commanding. “You enter this building only on my orders. Do you understand, or shall Elder Dorgath Ember‑Voice and I lodge a formal writ against you?”

“No, sir.” The Legionnaire scowls but backs away, eyes never leaving Veshka.

Helvar sits again, his expression softening as he turns back to her.

“You may stand if you prefer, or sit. I’m sitting — it’s easier for me to take notes.” He gestures to a small pot of root tea. “I also have root-tea, if you’d like some.”

Veshka exhales slowly, regaining her composure. “Even if you can’t remove these, root-tea sounds good.” She sits as Helvar fills a cloth cup and hands it to her.

“So, you worked with Peacekeepers during Aniniwiniwin Awnin?”

She nods as she sips her tea. “Yes. During the ‘days of peace’, I often walked with your Peacekeepers. They were strong and honorable.”

Helvar smiles. “Yes, they were. Before I ask anything from you, do you — or your Elders — have any requests to make the lives of your people better?”

She pauses. “I heard you say you work for an Elder. Is this true?”

He nods.

She sighs. “Okay. The infants and new mothers need milk. The food we are fed is what we see you feed the Legion, so we only request milk or mushroom‑milk, so we can keep the young healthy.”

On a separate barkskin, he writes in Durask: goat milk.

“I will see what I can do. We might be able to get some chilled bladders of watered goats’ milk.” He sets the stylus down. “If I tried to explain mushroom‑milk to the Legion supply clerks, I’d confuse them and you’d end up with mushroom flour instead.”

She laughs at that. “We could teach them how to make it.” The iron chain clinks on the table and she immediately frowns. “No trust.”

“I will do what I can. You are doing the best you can for your people. Hopefully soon the Legion will escort you to the River Goblins.”

She brightens. “Is that truly the plan? We’ve heard so little.”

“That is the plan I was told. It makes sense. Your Elders and young are better helped by your own people, and to get there, Protectors like you are needed.”

She refills her cup. “This is hopeful. What do you need from me?”

“Can you give me the names of all the Protectors?”

She quickly names the other five — the same ones the Legion listed as ‘troublemakers.’

“Okay. In your group, are there any border guards?”

She shakes her head. “No. They all either died or went Deep‑deep. They don’t like groups. Too loud and too bright.”

He makes a note and gives her a polite, practiced smile. “Of course. Do you have any stone‑listeners in the group?”

She pauses. “Not that I know of. I can ask around. Will that help?”

“Anything you can tell me is helpful.”

He closes his barkskin and stands. “Let me walk with you. I would hate for you to have an accident on the way back to your area.”

She gives him a knowing look and switches to Durask. “Yes, please walk with me. The way could be treacherous. I would hate to fall and get hurt.”

“Yes. Let’s walk together. Legionnaire, please lead the way.”