It's been a long road home. Long, but surprisingly quick. Almost like he was some sort of noble. Ivan shook his head, peering at the letter given to him by lady Gillespie one more time. He already knew by heart what was written on it. "The holder of this letter is on an errand on my behalf. Give him all the assistance a lawful traveler is due in the kingdom of Champagne. Alyssa Gillespie.". Short, simple, to the point, and apparently more than enough to be permitted through any roadcheck ahead of everyone else. It did help that he was traveling alone, he surmised. One would expect that the letter would cease to be relevant outside of Champagne, but for some reason, Kraut men-at-arms had shown almost as much deference to it as their Champagne brethren. Ivan decided not to think about it too hard. After all, if his sister has someone SO powerful watching over her, it is good, isn't it? In the Confederacy, the letter was not quite as powerful, obviously, but he had shown it to a couple guards and merchants on a lark, and their expressions and reactions DID imply they knew and respected the name on the paper. All in all, it was no little wonder that he made it back to Kraina in just under a month. Impressive, enviable, but no wonder. And now, as he was approaching the house his family lived in, Ivan smiled. As far as surprises go, his would be a good one.
As the hooves of his horse struck the stone pavement near the porch, a woman stepped outside to see who's coming. He was obviously not high on the list of likely visitors, given the expression.
"ÐванÑ, ÑинкÑ... Як Ñе ж... Що ж Ñе ÑобиÑÑÑÑ, Ñк ÑÑ Ð¿Ð¾Ð²ÐµÑнÑвÑÑ Ð²Ð¶Ðµ? Що ÑÑапилоÑÑ?" - she finally managed, visibly searching Ivan for possible wounds or other signs of misfortune. Having found none only worried her more, if the expression was of any indication.
"ÐÑ Ñо ж Ñ Ð¾Ð±ÑÑÑв Ñо повеÑнÑÑÑ Ð½Ð°Ð¹ÑвидÑÑÑе, мамо. Як Ñказав, Ñак Ñ Ð·Ñобив." - he retorted, slipping off the saddle. Tossing the reins onto the peg next to the porch, he turned around and hugged his mother tightly - "ÐÑе гаÑно, не Ñ Ð²Ð¸Ð»ÑйÑÑ. Ðозови ÑаÑкÑ, ÑозповÑм пÑо Ñе Ñк подоÑожÑвав."
In about an hour, his horse had been unladen, brushed down and given a nice hefty feedbag full of oats for her labors, and he himself had his face washed, fresh shirt on and munching down on a nice big bowl of pierogies with cherry stuffing. Something he sorely missed on the road. His father and his uncle sat across the table, mugs of kvass in their hands, while his two younger brothers sat on each side of him and pestered him with inane questions about the number of opponents he vanquished. Ivan shook his head at their nonsense. Mother was nearby, but she declined sitting at the table, instead busy preparing a second helping of perogies for the dinner.
"ÐÑ Ñо Ñо. Ðажи, ÑинÑ, Ñк подоÑожÑвав, Ñо знайÑов." - his father began, his voice paced as always - "ÐовеÑнÑвÑÑ Ñвидко, Ñе гаÑно. Що з гÑоÑима?"
In lieu of answering, Ivan pulled out a sack of coins and placed it in the middle of the table with a clatter. Taras tilted his head curiously, as he took the bag and hefted it in his hand. "Ðагомо. ÐÑе Ñе ШампанÑÑке золоÑо?" - he mused, passing the bag over to Ivan's uncle - "ÐаÑилÑ, поÑÐ°Ñ Ñй бÑÐ´Ñ Ð»Ð°Ñка. ÐдаÑÑÑÑÑ Ð¼ÐµÐ½Ñ Ñо в мÑÑÐºÑ ÑÑм виÑÑаÑиÑÑ Ñоб покÑиÑи Ñо бÑло покÑадено Ñа Ñе й залиÑиÑÑÑÑ, але гÑоÑÑ ÑÐ°Ñ Ñнок полÑблÑÑÑÑ."
"Ðа жалÑ, ÑаÑÑ, воÑа ÐониÑÑана Ñ Ñак Ñ Ð½Ðµ ÑпÑймав." - Ivan offered contritely - "Ðоли Ñ Ð´Ð¾Ð±ÑавÑÑ Ð´Ð¾ ÐаÑÑиÑ, винайÑов Ñо ÑÑого ÑÐ°Ñ ÑÐ°Ñ ÑозбÑйники заÑÑзали по доÑозÑ. ÐÑомÑж нами кажÑÑи, Ð²Ð²Ð°Ð¶Ð°Ñ Ñ Ñо Ñе бÑли не ÑозбÑйники, а вбивÑÑ, бо кÑав ÑÑй оÑÑканеÑÑ Ð·Ð²ÑдÑи вÑÑди."
"СобаÑÑ - ÑобаÑа загибелÑ." - Taras summed it up - "Ð¥Ñо ж ÑÐ¾Ð±Ñ Ð³ÑоÑÑ Ñо повеÑнÑв?"
"Та ÑÑÑ Ð±Ð°Ñ Ñка ÑпÑава - ÐониÑÑан на доÑÐ¾Ð·Ñ Ð±Ñв не аби Ñк. ÐÑн ÑоздÑаÑÑвав гÑаÑÑÑÐºÑ Ð´Ð¾Ð½ÑÐºÑ Ñ Ð²Ð¾Ð½Ð° його виженÑла з ÐаÑÑиÑ." - Ivan retorted - "Ðене до Ð½ÐµÑ Ð²ÑдпÑавили, коли Ñ ÑозпиÑÑвав Ñк ÐониÑÑана ÑозÑÑкаÑи. ÐвÑÑÑ ÑÑ Ð»ÐµÐ´Ñ ÐлиÑа ÐÑлеÑпай. ÐаÑна, але ж ÑÑÑÐ°Ñ ÑÑно ÑилÑна. Я ÑпоÑаÑÐºÑ Ð½Ðµ зÑозÑмÑв ÑозкладÑ, поÑав ÒÐ²Ð°Ð»Ñ Ð·Ð´ÑймаÑи, а вона мене за ÑÑÐºÑ ÑÑ Ð¾Ð¿Ð¸Ð»Ð° Ñа пообÑÑÑла до ÑÑÐµÐ»Ñ Ð¿Ñив'ÑзаÑи, ÑкÑо не Ð¾Ñ Ð¾Ð»Ð¾Ð½Ñ. Та Ñ Ð¶ Ñ Ð½Ðµ ÑпÑомÑгÑÑ ÑÑÐºÑ Ð²ÑдÑбÑаÑи доки вона Ñама не вÑдпÑÑÑила."
He was treated to quirked brows from his father and uncle, and hushed murmurs from his brothers. It was to be expected. Ivan had been by far the burliest man in the family. To hear that he could not yank his hand free from a girl's grasp added a lot of weight to his assertion she was "fearfully strong".
"ÐÑвка ÑилÑнÑÑа за Ñебе? Ðлена, а дай-но ÐÐ²Ð°Ð½Ñ Ñе ваÑеникÑв. ÐдаÑÑÑÑÑ Ð¼ÐµÐ½Ñ Ñо не Ñв вÑн в доÑÐ¾Ð·Ñ Ð´Ð¾Ð±Ñе, ÑкÑо дÑвки його пеÑеÑилÑÑÑÑ." - Taras jested, weathering Ivan's sulfurous grumbling in fine mettle - "ÐобÑе, добÑе. ÐожаÑÑÑвали й годÑ. То Ñо ÑÑапилоÑÑ? ÐÑаÑÑÑка донÑка допомогла ÑÐ¾Ð±Ñ Ð·Ð´Ð¾Ð±ÑÑи гÑоÑÑ Ð²Ñд ÑÑого беÑкеÑникÑ?"
"ÐÑ. ÐаÑ, вона не ÑÑлÑки виженÑла ÐониÑÑана з гоÑодÑ, вона Ñе й вÑдÑбÑала вÑе Ñо вÑн мав." - he clarified - "Ðона Ð¼Ð°Ñ Ð²ÑÑ Ð¹Ð¾Ð³Ð¾ кÑпеÑÑÐºÑ ÐºÐ½Ð¸Ð¶ÐºÐ¸. Ðона ÑÑ Ð¿ÐµÑеглÑнÑла, знайÑла де наÑÑ ÐºÐ¾Ð½Ð¸, ÑÐºÑ ÑÑÐ½Ñ Ð¼Ð¸ бажали, вÑе пÑо ÑÑ ÑпÑавÑ. Ðаже Ñо звиÑайно пÑопонÑÑ Ð²Ð¸Ð±ÑÑ - гÑоÑÑ Ñо ÐониÑÑан бÑв винний або повеÑÐ½ÐµÐ½Ð½Ñ ÑоваÑÑ, але наÑÑ ÐºÐ¾Ð½Ð¸ вже в ÑобоÑÑ Ñ Ð·ÐµÐ¼Ð»ÐµÑобÑв на ÐÑенвилÑÑинÑ, Ñ ÑеÑез Ñе, вона пÑопонÑÑ Ð³ÑоÑÑ Ñа Ð´Ð¾Ð´Ð°Ñ Ð´ÐµÑÑÑÐ¸Ð½Ñ Ð´Ð¾Ð³Ð¾Ñи за Ð½Ð°Ñ ÐºÐ»Ð¾Ð¿ÑÑ. Я виÑÑÑив Ñо Ñе гаÑна Ñгода Ñ Ð¿Ð¾Ð³Ð¾Ð´Ð¸Ð²ÑÑ."
"ÐеÑÑÑина за Ð½Ð°Ñ ÐºÐ»Ð¾Ð¿ÑÑ, кажеÑ? ÐгÑдно ÑÐ°Ñ ÑнкÑ, ÑкÑо Ñак." - Vasil murmured from his spot, sweeping stacks of ten coins into the sack one by one - "Я Ð²Ð²Ð°Ð¶Ð°Ñ Ñо Ñи зÑобив Ñк ÑлÑд. Ð¦Ñ Ð»ÐµÐ´Ñ Ð½Ð°Ð¼ Ð²Ð·Ð°Ð³Ð°Ð»Ñ Ð½ÑÑого не винна, по законÑ; Ñе Ñо вона погодилаÑÑ Ð²ÑдÑкодÑваÑи збиÑки Ð·Ð°Ð²Ð´Ð°Ð½Ñ ÑÑм ÑÐ°Ñ ÑаÑм - Ñе велике ÑаÑÑÑ."
"Я згÑдний з ÐаÑилем, Ðване. Ти зÑобив Ñк ÑлÑд." - Taras offered, - "ÐÑ Ñо, ÑвеÑеÑÑ Ð³ÑлÑймо? ÐÑоÑÑ Ð¿Ð¾Ð²ÐµÑнÑли, Ðван ÑÑлий Ñа здоÑовий... ÐголоÑимо ÑÑÑÐ¾Ð¼Ñ ÑÐµÐ»Ñ Ñо ÑÐ°Ñ ÑÐ°Ñ Ð±Ð¾Ð³Ð¸ покаÑали, а гÑоÑÑ Ðван повеÑнÑв."
"СÑÑивай, баÑÑко. ÐÐ°Ñ Ñе ÑоÑÑ ÑозповÑÑÑи." - Ivan offered somberly - "Ðамо, ÑÑдай бÑÐ´Ñ Ð»Ð°Ñка, поÑлÑÑ Ð°Ð¹ Ñеж."
His mother moved to object, but something in his expression stopped her. She pulled up a stool and sat down, suddenly feeling very vary and apprehensive. Ivan nodded, sighed... and began speaking.
"У ÐаÑÑии, Ñ Ð·ÑÑÑÑÑв РокÑоланÑ." - he forged on, trying to get over with the news as soon as possible - "Ðона вÑдвÑÐ´Ð°Ñ ÐаÑÑийÑÑÐºÑ ÐкадемÑÑ Ñ Ð½Ðµ забажала повеÑÑаÑиÑÑ Ð·Ñ Ð¼Ð½Ð¾Ñ, але ж пообÑÑÑла вÑдвÑдаÑи Ð½Ð°Ñ Ð½Ð°ÑÑÑпним лÑÑом. Ðона напиÑала лиÑÑÑ Ð¿Ñо Ñе Ñо з Ð½ÐµÑ ÑÑапилоÑÑ, але ж в два Ñлова - Ð»ÐµÐ´Ñ ÐÑлеÑпай Ñа ÑÑлÑан ÐÑжÑйÑÑкий воÑогÑÑÑÑ, Ñ Ð Ð¾ÐºÑÐ¾Ð»Ð°Ð½Ñ Ð¿Ð¾ÑаÑÑило бÑÑи вÑÑÑованÑй з ÑÑлÑанÑÑкого Ð¿Ð¾Ð»Ð¾Ð½Ñ ÐºÐ¾Ð»Ð¸ Ð»ÐµÐ´Ñ ÐÑлеÑпай пÑÑла в налÑÑ Ð½Ð° ÑÑлÑанÑÑкий палаÑ."
His mother immediately began crying, while his brothers shouted one over the other demanding details from Ivan. Finally, Taras slammed his fist on the table, making the boys quiet down.
"Ð Ð½Ñ Ð¾Ð±Ð¸Ð´Ð²Ð° ÑÑÑлили пелÑки!" - he shouted - "Ðване, полÑно Ñи дÑбове, ÑÐ¾Ð¼Ñ Ð¶ Ñи не ÑозпоÑав з ÑÑого!?"
Ivan winced. This was the awkward part of it. "Ðе знав Ñк казаÑи, ÑаÑÑ. ТÑÑ Ð±Ð°Ñ Ñка ÑпÑава - РокÑолана Ð·Ð°ÐºÐ¾Ñ Ð°Ð»Ð°ÑÑ Ñ Ð»ÐµÐ´Ñ ÐÑлеÑпай Ñа Ð±Ð°Ð¶Ð°Ñ Ð¿Ð¾Ð±ÑаÑиÑÑ. Ðоли Ñ ÑÑ Ð·ÑÑÑÑÑв, нÑ... Ð¼ÐµÐ½Ñ Ð·Ð´Ð°Ð»Ð¾ÑÑ Ñо вони вже побÑалиÑÑ. Ðез Ñвого дозволÑ." - he explained - "Ðи поÑваÑилиÑÑ ÑÑÐ¾Ñ Ð¸ ÑеÑез Ñе." He took a look at father's stormy face and raised his hands placatingly immediately - "Та вÑдÑÐ°Ð·Ñ Ð¶ замиÑилиÑÑ, ÑаÑÑ, ÑеÑно. Ðона ж не знала Ñи лиÑивÑÑ Ñ Ñо з Ð½Ð°Ñ Ð¶Ð¸Ð²Ð¸Ð¹, коли ÑÑ Ð²ÑÑÑÑвали..."
This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.
Taras had a complicated expression on his face, as he mulled over the situation. "ÐÑаке ж... ÐÑ... ÐÑ Ð¶Ðµ ж оказÑÑ... ÐолÑблÑÑ Ð´ÑвкÑ, кажеÑ?.. ÐÑаÑÑÑÐºÑ Ð´Ð¾Ð½ÑкÑ... Що ÑÑ Ð²Ñд ÑÑлÑÐ°Ð½Ñ Ð²ÑÑÑÑвала..." - he muttered aloud - "ÐÑ Ñе новини. Ðе Ð·Ð½Ð°Ñ Ñо й ÑобиÑи. Родного кÑаÑ, жÑнка з жÑÐ½ÐºÐ¾Ñ - Ñе дÑже ÑÑдеÑнаÑÑко. Ще й без дозволÑ. Ð ÑнÑого - ÐºÐ¾Ñ Ð°Ð½Ð½Ñ ÑпÑава Ñкладна... Ð ÑкÑо побеÑеÑÑÑÑ Ñо Ð¿Ð°Ð½Ð½Ð¾Ñ Ð±Ñде, маÑиме вÑе Ñо забажаÑ... ÐÑ, ÑÑ ÑпÑÐ°Ð²Ñ Ð±ÐµÐ· ÑаÑки не ÑозплÑÑаÑи. Ðлено, а Ð½Ñ Ð´ÑÑÑавай гоÑÑÐ»ÐºÑ Ñа ÑÑи ÑаÑки. Ð Ñи, Ðване, згадÑй вÑе Ñо пам'ÑÑаÑÑ Ð·Ð° ÑÑ Ð»ÐµÐ´Ñ. Що вона за дÑвка? Чи бÑде вона добÑа до РокÑолани, Ñи нÑ?"
A few minutes later, the table had been cleaned off and set afresh. A sizable bottle of hard liquor surrounded by four cups. Apparently, Alena decided she needs some liquid fortification herself, if she were to process the news regarding her daughter. Vodka had been poured out into four cups, which were lifted and emptied immediately.
"Хааа!..." - Ivan drew a long breath, as he set the cup down. Reaching out, he grabbed a slice of bread laden with smoked lard slices and chopped onion and took a hefty bite out of it, tamping down the liquor. Thus fortified, he began - "Що за дÑвка Ð»ÐµÐ´Ñ ÐÑлеÑпай? Складне пиÑаннÑ. ÐиглÑÐ´Ð°Ñ Ð³Ð°Ñно, каже Ñкладно, ÑозÑмÑÑ ÐовÑ. ÐÑди в ÐаÑÑÑÑ ÐºÐ°Ð¶ÑÑÑ Ð¿Ñо Ð½ÐµÑ Ð±Ð°Ð³Ð°Ñо. ÐÐ°Ñ Ð²Ð»Ð°ÑÐ½Ñ ÐºÑамниÑÑ Ð¿Ð¾ вÑÑй ШампанÑ, ÑÑвоÑила безлÑÑ Ð½Ð¾Ð²Ð¸Ñ ÑеÑей на пÑодаж, вважаÑÑÑÑÑ Ð¾Ð´Ð½Ð¾Ñ Ð· найбагаÑÑÐ¸Ñ Ð¿Ð°Ð½Ð½ Ñ ÑÑолиÑÑ. ÐажÑÑÑ Ñо Ñ ÑавоÑÑ ÐºÐ¾ÑолÑвÑÑкомÑ. Ще кажÑÑÑ Ñо знаÑна ÑаклÑнка. Ще кажÑÑÑ Ñо Ð¼Ð°Ñ Ð·Ð°Ð¿Ð°Ð»ÑÐ½Ñ Ð½Ð°ÑÑÑÑ, Ð¾Ñ ÑваÑи до бÑйки один кÑок."
Taras frowned. "ТобÑо... ÐагаÑа, знаÑна, ÑилÑна, ÑозÑмна, гаÑна... але ж Ñвидка даÑи плÑÑ Ð°Ð½Ð°, оÑе пÑо Ð½ÐµÑ ÐºÐ°Ð¶ÑÑÑ? ÐÑ Ð´Ð¾Ð±Ñе. Ð Ñи Ñам пÑо Ð½ÐµÑ Ñо мÑÑкÑÑÑ?" - he offered thoughtfully.
"ÐÑе Ñо кажÑÑÑ - Ñак Ñ Ñ. Ðле бÑÐ¹ÐºÑ Ð¿ÐµÑÑÐ¾Ñ Ð½Ðµ поÑинаÑ. Ðоли ми ÑваÑилиÑÑ, вона дала Ð¼ÐµÐ½Ñ ÐºÑÑÐµÐ½Ñ Ð²ÑгÑллÑ, кажÑÑи Ñо Ñк Ñ Ð¹Ð¾Ð³Ð¾ не ÑозламаÑ, Ñо Ñ Ð·Ð°Ð½Ð°Ð´Ñо Ñлабкий Ñоб ÑлÑÑ Ð°Ñи. Я... ÑоздÑаÑÑвавÑÑ, поÑав ламаÑи. Розламав напÑвки. ÐаÑкнÑв Ñо вдоÑÑÐ°Ð»Ñ ÑилÑний. Ðона ÑзÑла Ñе кÑÑÐµÐ½Ñ Ñа й ÑозÑÑоÑила його ÑÑками." - Ivan offered, thinking back to it - "Та не один. ТÑоÑила вÑгÑÐ»Ð»Ñ Ð´Ð¾ÐºÐ¸ ми ÑозмовлÑли. Сказала Ñо Ñе ÑÑзниÑÑ Ð¼Ñж ÑилÑним Ñа звиÑайним. Я не Ð·Ð½Ð°Ñ Ñо о ÑÑм вважаÑи. Ðоли Ñ Ð²ÑгÑÐ»Ð»Ñ Ð»Ð°Ð¼Ð°Ð², оÑÑимав два кÑÑÐ½Ñ Ð²ÑгÑллÑ. Ðоли вона вÑгÑÐ»Ð»Ñ ÑÑоÑиÑÑ, вона його Ñак ÑÑÑÑÐ°Ñ Ñо вÑн в кÑиÑÑал ÑкийÑÑ Ð¿ÐµÑеÑвоÑÑÑÑÑÑÑ. Ðоже Ñе ÑаклÑнÑÑво, але ж Ñ Ñе Ð¼Ð°Ñ ÑÑ ÐºÑиÑÑали..."
He pulled out the small baggy and shook it open, letting half a dozen crystals roll across the table. Vasil blinked at those. He stretched his hand, picked one of the shards, fingered it thoughtfully... looked through it at the window. Picked up the bottle, pressed the crystal against the neck and dragged it. Everyone winced at the loud scrape, and gaped when the neck of the bottle came out cleanly marked with a groove.
"...Це дÑаманÑи." - he breathed incredulously - "ÐÐÐÐÐÐТÐ!... РвÑгÑллÑ? Це божевÑллÑ. Як вÑгÑÐ»Ð»Ñ Ð¼Ð¾Ð¶Ðµ бÑÑи дÑаманÑом?... Ðле ж..." He trailed off, looking at the rough diamonds incredulously.
"СÑÑивай, ÐаÑилÑ. Ð¯ÐºÑ Ð´ÑаманÑи?" - Taras objected thoughtfully.
Vasil picked up the gems one by one, testing them on the bottle, slowly covering it with grooves. The rest of family watched him in bedazzled confusion. "...Це вÑе дÑаманÑи. Ðона ÑÐ¾Ð±Ñ Ð¿Ð¾Ð´Ð°ÑÑвала мÑÑеÑок дÑаманÑÑв." - he giggled a little hysterically, unable to contain his incredulous elation - "ÐÑÑого виÑÑаÑиÑи Ñоб кÑпиÑи вÑе наÑе Ñело ÑÑи Ñази Ñа Ñе й на гÑлÑÐ½ÐºÑ Ð¾Ð¿ÑÑÐ»Ñ Ð·Ð°Ð»Ð¸ÑиÑÑÑÑ."
"...ÐÑаке! Ще й Ñ Ð¸ÑÑа. Ð Ð½Ñ Ðване, кажи вÑе Ñо вона ÑÐ¾Ð±Ñ Ð¿Ð¾Ð´Ð°ÑÑвала. ÐÑб даÑ, в подаÑÑÐ½ÐºÐ°Ñ Ñе пÑигоди." - Taras demanded, grinning. He was obviously getting warmed up to the idea, Ivan remarked to himself, as he stepped away from his seat to bring out the sabre he got delivered right before his departure. It came with a note "A little something-something in case you find trouble on the road.". He didn't, but now he was wondering if he maybe should have at the very least examined the sword instead of just shrugging and hanging it to his belt. But he was emotionally wrung after that meeting in Parsee, and so the sabre was overlooked initially, and after that he got so used to it being there, he really didn't think much about it. Traveling armed was common sense, really.
As he brought the sabre back to the table, he started pulling it out of the scabbard the first time... only to freeze and stare incredulously as the first few fingers of the blade revealed a wavy pattern he couldn't confuse with anything else. Given how every man at the table hopped to their feet in the same time, they saw and thought the same. With trembling hands, Ivan pulled the blade out, howling in his mind about the sheer injustice of the world. How could he have a sabre made out of legendary ripple steel and never even pull it out of the scabbard before now?
Taras extended his hand and touched the blade reverently. That... would be a family heirloom. There was simply no other way to handle having a legend-worthy sword other than this. He was so preoccupied with marveling at the subtle light play across the ripple that he ignored Ivan staggering back and outside. His attention was forcibly drawn, however, when his eldest stumbled back, carrying a fairly sizable pack, which was dumped on the table and the rope holding it together slit almost viciously. What appeared from under the rough fabric made his heart skip a beat. He gingerly stretched his hand, picking up the smaller package that had his name painted on it somehow. Slowly, he cut the rope, and unwrapped the fabric reverently. What he saw within was a beautiful flanged mace, again made out of ripple steel. A small note came with it. "It seemed fitting for a head of the family."
Pulling his eyes from the priceless gift, Taras looked around. Vasil was holding a sabre, much like Ivan's and stroked his fingers along the length of the blade, almost as if afraid it would suddenly melt in his hands. Boys meanwhile had found a package addressed to them both and were doing their best to pull the ropes off. Clicking his tongue, Taras assisted. This one contained two nice curved knives, yet again in ripple steel and a note "Knives for boys. We'll get you sabres once you're all grown up.". Piotr and Mykola were not some rubes, they heard plenty of stories about legendary wavy steel. And now, they were owners of very expensive and rare knives, and well cognizant of the fact. It would go without saying the two would be the envy of every boy in the village. Not that anyone would try to steal those. Rare weapons tended to be very distinct, after all.
Perhaps the oddest thing here, however, was that Alena was also holding a package with her name on it. A compact one, but seemingly pretty hefty. Taras shook his head. He just HAD to see what kind of gift the lady in question thought to be appropriate for his wife. Gently plucking the package from her hands, Taras slit the rope, and unfurled it, laying out a... huh. It was, just as he expected, made out of ripple steel. And some kind of wood, in rich brown color. The note said "I've been told you're not into fighting, so I sent a pepper mill." He translated the note for Alena, who had picked up her gift and was looking on it in befuddlement.
"ÐелÑниÑка Ð´Ð»Ñ Ð¿ÐµÑÑÑ?" - she repeated incredulously - "Ðе ж Ñ Ð¿ÐµÑÑÑ Ñо знайдÑ?" She nudged the handle, fully expecting it to just swing, and was startled when a few crumbs fell out from the mill on her hand with a grinding sound. Her eyes widening, she sniffed at it, and sneezed heartily, looking at the pepper mill with wide eyes. Taras exchanged glances with his wife. Both he and she could read the message between the lines very well. No one sent gifts so expensive as mere pleasantries. Honestly, any of the items were valuable enough to be considered a suitable bride price all by itself. Having each member of the family being gifted one... That implied SERIOUS intentions. And if Roxolane herself was in favor, well... He glanced at Vasil, who was clearly thinking along the same line, then his eye stopped on the boys.
"ÐеÑÑо, Ðикола. ÐдаÑÑÑÑÑ Ð¼ÐµÐ½Ñ Ñо ваÑа ÑеÑÑÑа ÑпÑÐ°Ð²Ð¶Ð½Ñ Ð±Ð°Ð¶Ð°Ñ Ð¿Ð¾Ð±ÑаÑиÑÑ Ð· Ð»ÐµÐ´Ñ ÐÑлеÑпай. ÐаÑÑ Ð´Ñмки?" - Taras had offered. Really, they were the last to give an opinion. Ivan had already accepted the situation, and upon seeing the facts, other adults were inclined to accept it as well. Which left the kids.
Boys looked at each other. "ÐÐ²Ñ ÑеÑÑÑи?" - "Ðгода!"
Ivan cleared his throat awkwardly. "Ð'ÑÑÑ ÑеÑÑеÑ." - he corrected, swallowing - "Я ÑоÑÑ Ð·Ð°Ð±Ñв. РокÑолана дала Ð¼ÐµÐ½Ñ Ð·Ð°ÑаÑований обеÑÑг, ÑеÑез нÑого ми можемо обговоÑиÑи вÑе з РокÑоланоÑ."
In the silence that followed, the sound of Taras smacking Ivan upside the head was especially poignant.