Chapter Nine: Preparations
Flynn stretched out on the sand and watched the sunset. He'd had a long day and it was a treat to relax on the beach with his friends. He'd returned from Saint-Malo only this afternoon. Flynn often travelled to nearby towns to check in with the local Ankou and make sure everything was running smoothly, but this had been a more personal trip. His terrible sense of foreboding drove him to prepare for the worst, so he'd gone to the larger city to stock up on things that might help. As far as Yuri knew, it had been just another Ankou business trip. He was hesitant to voice his concerns in case he started a panic over nothing.
A piece of driftwood splashed after Yuri chucked it, and Repede dashed into the waves to retrieve it. Repede ran back to them, dropped it, and shook off the water.
"Ack!" Karol raised his arms and scooted backward. "Repede, not right here!"
Rita laughed from her place of safety on a rock on Yuri's other side. "That's one way to take a shower."
Water dripping from Yuri's face, he picked up the driftwood and threw it back into the ocean. Repede kicked up sand with how fast he turned around and raced after it.
"He's just going to come back and get you guys wet again," Rita said.
"That's alright," Yuri said. "A little water never hurt anyone."
Flynn was just glad he was sitting closer to Rita than Karol. Between them was a blanket with a basket full of crab shells. They'd spent the afternoon's low-tide gathering dinner, and came back to have a picnic on the beach after cooking it. Flynn recalled doing the same thing on the same beach forty years ago. At least now Yuri wasn't confused and frustrated by Flynn's intimate knowledge of all the beach's best hiding spots.
Rita shrugged. "That's not what the doctors say. 'Course, Estelle says she isn't sure and it's not what her grandmother said. Depends on if you trust old midwife traditions or fancy medical degrees more."
"I dunno." Yuri stretched and took the stick from Repede as the dog returned. "I have a theory that this whole thing about needing a layer of grime as a shield so you don't absorb miasma through your skin in a conspiracy by balding old doctors who want everyone to smell as bad as they do with their heads full of bear grease."
Rita snorted and folded her arms. "Could be. Well, I don't care what any medical professionals say. I'll take a bath if and when I want to!"
Karol gave her a look. "Yeah, Rita, we know that. Everyone in town knows when you've been working with sulphur that week."
Rita, too far away from Karol to smack him, just gave him a sneer.
"Where is Estelle, anyway?" Karol asked. "She missed a great dinner."
"She had to tend to some sick people. The Flochs are getting worse, I guess, and she said something about calling on a doctor to make a formal diagnosis. She dashed off without explaining much and seemed pretty stressed. Man, she's always working herself to the bone." Rita couldn't help smiling a little with pride. "She's the best nurse in all of Zaphias."
While the others chatted, Flynn ran his fingers through warm sand. He hadn't talked much through dinner, though Rita and Karol were too busy needling each other that he didn't think they noticed. Only Yuri noticed his mood, but since it was the same ominous melancholy he'd been in since the end of April, Yuri hadn't commented. Yuri was good about that. He seemed to always know what to say, or when not to say anything at all. He held his emotions and affections close to his chest, but anyone could see how he really felt by the way he interacted with others. The adoration the children of his neighbourhood had for him was proof enough of that. When Repede came running back to drop the stick and Yuri pulled him in close to rub their faces together, he showed off his tenderness once again. Flynn didn't often let himself get close with mortals, but he was glad he'd made an exception for Yuri.
Yuri laughed at Repede's eagerness for the stick to be thrown once more and then threw it with all his might. He grinned as it whirled through the air and a breeze came in off the ocean, pushing his hair away from his face. As Repede paddled out for the stick, Yuri shifted his face and caught Flynn staring at him. The light from the setting sun casted his features in a warm glow, but Flynn was pretty sure the way the background blurred behind him was just in his imagination. Many people would consider him quite handsome, Flynn realized, which was followed by the terrifying realizing that he was one of those people. How old was he? Twenty-one? What was a man like Yuri doing without a wife by that age? Here was a handsome young man with decent employment and well-liked by the community. He ought to have no problem at all finding a wife in his quarter of Zaphias. They'd never spoken much about their personal romantic lives, but from the sound of things, that was because Yuri's was as nonexistent as Flynn's. He couldn't help himself from thinking, good.
"What are you staring at?"
Flynn snapped to his senses. "Nothing. I'm just tired from my trip."
Repede came racing out of the foam and dropped the stick on the edge of the blanket. Instead of nudging it toward Yuri, he looked toward the steps to the gate and barked.
Everyone looked over and saw Estelle standing at the entrance, one hand resting on the wall. The wind off the sea flapped her hair and skirt while the the setting sun that had basked Yuri in warmth now illuminated her in ominous red.
"Hey, Estelle!" Karol called.
Rita rose from her rock. "Something's wrong."
For a long moment she just stood there. Flynn's heart throbbed in his throat. The coming wave he'd dreaded for weeks was cresting and as soon as Estelle got the nerve, it would come crashing down on them. Flynn knew exactly why she was standing there and making no movement to come closer even though she'd obviously run out here to find them. He'd been around too much death not to recognize when someone was desperately trying to put off ruining a loved one's happiness with terrible news.
Rita ran across the sand. "Estelle! What happened? Did someone hurt you? Tell me who it was and I'll kick their ass!"
Estelle shook her head and hurried down the steps to meet Rita. She grabbed Rita and pulled her into a tight hug. Flynn couldn't hear what she said to her, but then the two girls returned to the group. Estelle fell to her knees in the sand beside Karol while Rita stood behind her, arms folded.
"Estelle. What's wrong?" Yuri gave her a look of uncommon seriousness.
"It's…." She had to say it in a frightened whisper. "It's plague."
Her words were met with a long silence. Flynn closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Sometimes, he hated being right.
"W-what?" Karol's voice trembled. "Where? Not here?"
Estelle nodded feebly. "I - I thought Mr. and Mrs. Floch had the flu. But then their symptoms got worse and they started having unusual symptoms. I thought it couldn't be plague because they didn't have any buboes, but - but then I remembered my grandmother saying sometimes people get the plague in their blood or their lungs and it looks different. I went to got a doctor to diagnose and he confirmed it and then left quickly. By then, they were both so, so sick…. I stayed with them and - and all I could do was try to make them comfortable before they died." Estelle rubbed her eyes with her wrist. "Then… as I was leaving to fetch to the coroner, Mr. Pichon called me over from next door. H-he wanted my help because his wife isn't feeling well. I looked at her and found a bubo under her arm."
"Th-that's on the other side of town from where we live," Karol said. "And it's only two cases. You caught it already so it will be fine, right?"
"No." Yuri spoke up. He stared at Estelle's tear-streaked face and then looked out to the ocean. "Think about it. May Day was just over a week ago. All those traders came to town. I'd bet anything they brought it with them. They mingled all over town and then moved on and the symptoms in everyone they infected are only now starting to show up."
His words were met with another long silence broken only by the waves sloshing in and out. The silence opened a gulf for the spectre of plague to slide in and join them. Flynn recalled the stained glass windows in the church with images of Death dancing around the living and he prayed that his own presence wasn't a terrible omen that they sat now in the company of Death.
In the midst of their silence, the church bells clanged. Rather than striking the hour, these were the pattern-less tolls that called the parish to mass every Sunday morning.
"A town meeting," Yuri said dully.
Karol was hugging himself and shaking his head. "It's only two cases…. One living patient right now. It can't… I mean it can't really…."
Yuri helped Karol get to his feet. "C'mon. We should all go hear what the priest has to say. Maybe you're right and he's going to tell us not to worry."
He shared a glance with Flynn and in a second confirmed that to be a false hope. Flynn could feel the coming mass deaths like the spray preceding a massive wave.
"It's ok, Estelle." Rita crouched to wrap an arm around Estelle's shoulders. "You did the best you could for the Flochs. If they had septicemic or pneumonic plague like you said, there's nothing you could have done to save them."
Estelle nodded and let Rita pull her to her feet. They group slowly made their way to the gate, Repede's stick left forgotten in the sand.
The rest of the town's residents were already flocking to the church. Most chatted happily with no clue what the impromptu summons was about. Flynn wished he could freeze time somehow and keep all these people from having to learn the awful truth of what now lurked in their town. They crowded into the church, where the murmuring filled the cavernous chamber. Flynn could have slipped to the front and taken a seat with the other wealthier residents of town, but he preferred to stay with his friends and stood in the back.
When all who were going to respond to the summons were settled, Father Duke stepped to the front altar. Magistrate Ragou stood off to the side looking more nervous than Flynn had ever seen him. The assembly fell quiet and looked to Duke with expectation.
"Good evening," Duke began, though his face already foretold that it wasn't. "Thank you for coming. I apologize for the abruptness of the summons, but dire news has reached us that must be disseminated with haste. We are to be tested by the Lord through coming days of darkness and despair: plague is upon us."
A gasp passed through the crowd, followed by a rush of fearful whispers. Duke held up a hand to quiet them once more.
"Two members of our congregation, Mr. and Mrs. Floch, have passed away this evening and there is another confirmed case in town. Furthermore, we have just received word that plague has taken root in Nantes and twenty have died in the past week. It is believed that many other cities across France are experiencing similar outbreaks."
The horror and dread that filled the room was practically tangible. Flynn couldn't stop the guilt of knowing he was immune to illness while looking around the crowd and wondering which of them wouldn't be here come winter.
"Measures are to be put in place," Duke went on. "These orders are out of Paris and are being applied across the kingdom to halt the spread of disease. From today on, public gatherings are prohibited except for weekly mass. All public houses are to remain closed for the duration of the outbreak. Public begging and street entertainment are henceforth prohibited. Cats and dogs within the city limits are to be destroyed."
Flynn glanced to Yuri beside him, who had suddenly clenched his fists. Flynn pictured Repede, who'd contentedly made his way home after the beach, and felt another pang of grief.
"Travel in and out of the city will be strictly monitored. Anyone who develops the following symptoms must immediately report to a watchman: painful swellings in the neck, armpit, or groin area, high fever, severe headaches, muscle pain, or vomiting. Any who show signs of plague will be quarantined within their houses."
His announcement was met with sober quiet. Nobody liked the restrictions, but nobody argued, either. Better to abide by oppressive rules for a few months than die of plague. Flynn was the only one not watching the priest with rapt attention. So few of the health measures would do anything to halt the spread of disease spread by fleas. He stood in the back of the room, fighting the urge to push Duke aside and yell everything he knew about the plague at the gathered crowd. If he thought anyone would believe him, he might have done so. But one man with no medical background yelling about venomous fleas was not going to change the minds of all the physicians who swore by the miasma theory, and losing all traces of his credibility would only make things worse. So he stood back while Duke led them in a prayer and said a silent one of his own, not aimed at any particular god, that he could at least save as many people as he possible.
Yuri met Hanks at their house after the meeting. Hanks was already seated at the table with Repede napping underneath. For a long moment, Yuri stood in the doorway and took in the sight. After a while, he slammed the door and asked, "How bad do you think it will be? I don't remember the last one." All he knew about the last plague outbreak was that it had killed his entire family and that didn't give him much reassurance for this go-around.
Hanks folded his arms and shook his head. "Impossible to say. These things tend to crop up every twenty to thirty years, but they're always different. The fact that there are outbreaks all across France, too, though…." He didn't have to finish his sentence.
"Damn." Yuri threw himself into a chair at the table. "Damn."
"Last time, you survived the plague without ever catching it even when your mother and grandparents died of it. Maybe you have a natural immunity to it."
Yuri glared at a whorl in the table. "Yeah, or maybe I shouldn't expect my luck to hold out twice in a row." Besides, it wasn't himself he was worried about. The common form of plague killed one in two of people infected, but as a healthy adult, he knew his chances of surviving it were better than others. What about the very old or very young, like Hanks, Karol, Ted, or Padreg? What about those that would be spending a lot of time with the sick, like Estelle? And what about those that had already been condemned to death?
Yuri looked under the table at Repede, who had woken up and was watching them with a tightly flicking tail. He knew his humans were upset about something. "They're going to kill Repede."
Hanks sighed. "Yes. They did it last time, too. Plague comes from miasma, miasma comes from filth, filth is helped along by dirty animals roaming the streets. Clean up the streets, clean up the plague."
Yuri sneered. "I bet Ragou's fancy hunting dogs aren't going to be killed."
"Of course not. They're upper-class dogs." Hanks snorted in distaste. "They only want to clear out the gutter dogs who live with gutter families like us."
Fury bubbled beneath Yuri's patience. Enough people he knew were going to die this summer without killing one friend intentionally.
"I have to go," Hanks said. "The Flochs need to be buried right away."
"Yeah. I get it." Yuri grimly thought that at least Hanks would be making a lot of money digging graves while Yuri was out of work at the tavern. "I'm going to take care of Repede."
Hanks gave Repede a long, sorrowful look. "If you need a gun-"
"No." Yuri stood abruptly. "No one is killing Repede. Repede, c'mon, we're going out."
The dog came out from under the table and looked at him curiously. Yuri rubbed his head and then went back to the door with Repede at his heels. The streets were empty even though it was only just after sunset. Still, he had to move cautiously. The town was paying a few sous per dog or cat carcass brought to them, and he couldn't risk anyone seeing Repede and getting ideas. Repede seemed to sense the importance of their evening walk, because he stuck close to Yuri with hackles raised. The silence of the town unnerved him. All the empty space and quiet streets felt like empty containers just waiting for plague to sweep in and fill them up. He imagined plague like a ghost, invisibly drifting through the town in search of its next victims.
He'd reached Flynn's street when the distant yowl of a dog stopped him. Goosebumps ran down his arms as it suddenly stopped. His fingers curled through Repede's fur and he took a deep breath to quell his storm of emotions. Then he thought of the plague in the air and regretted breathing so deep. It had been about one hour since he got the news that plague was in Zaphias, and already he was rattled. Yuri hurried down the street and pushed open the gate to Flynn's house, glancing over his shoulder as Repede walked under his arm and into the garden. Just being on Flynn's property brought him some relief.
Yuri led Repede to the side door and banged on it. He felt exposed outside, as if someone might pop up in the alley over Flynn's garden wall and shoot Repede, or, even worse, the spectre of plague would pop out of a bush and infect him. Leblanc opened the door and Repede pushed past him into the kitchen.
"Hey. It's me."
"What are you doing here at this time of night?"
"Sorry. I need to talk to Flynn."
It was a good thing Leblanc had answered the door rather than Sodia, because Leblanc actually directed Yuri to the library and got a bowl of water for Repede. Yuri rubbed Repede's neck and asked him to stay in the kitchen and then made his way to the library. As soon as he stepped in, the scent of mint startled him. Flynn stood at the table before the black journal, with glass bottles and bunches of plants spread out before him.
"Knock-knock. Do you have a minute?"
Flynn jumped at Yuri's voice and looked over his shoulder. "Oh, Yuri. What are you doing here?"
"I need your help." The library was lit only by a pair of candelabras on the table so he picked up one of the brown glass bottles to make out the label in dim light.
"Careful. That's arsenic. What help can I do for you?"
Yuri set it down quickly. "I was hoping you could harbour Repede. I can't keep him on my street; he'll be killed. But if he stays on your property, only going into the back garden and stable area, I think he'll be safe."
Flynn nodded. "Yes, I will gladly keep him. I'm going to need to give him a bath with pennyroyal, though."
Yuri picked up one of the long stems with a pale purple flower on the end. "Is that what this is for? Washing dogs?"
Flynn took the flower from Yuri. "It's to keep plague at bay. It's passed by fleas. Pennyroyal is an effective flea deterrent."
Yuri frowned in confusion. "Fleas? What are you talking about?"
Flynn gestured vaguely toward the journal with the flower. "Since 1348, Ankous have had quite of a lot of data to study the plague. Khroma, in the fourteenth century, did most of the work. My predecessors came to the conclusion that the plague is spread by flea bites."
Yuri absently scratched a flea bite on his wrist. Fleas were such a fact of life in the more impoverished areas of the city that it had never occurred to him they could be dangerous. "That doesn't make sense. I get bit by fleas all the time, so why is the plague only showing up now?"
"I don't know." Flynn spoke hastily and kept glancing around his table full of flowers and poison. "Sometimes bites are harmless, sometimes they spread plague. I think it might be specific types of fleas. Usually, getting bit by a snake is no big deal, but if it was a black adder, you'll be poisoned and might die. So I think maybe certain types of fleas are venomous."
"If it has nothing to do with miasma, what about other diseases? Are all diseases spread by poison bugs?"
Flynn shook his head in frustration. "I'm sorry, I don't know. I'm certain some diseases spread through the air, but how that happens… toxic air is as good a guess as any. Plague, though." He gathered up a handful of flowers and tied them together with some twine. "It's spread by fleas, and by proxy rats, which bring the fleas. Rats die from the plague, too - that's why you've been seeing dead rats lately."
"So you're going to combat the plague with flowers and poison?"
"Pennyroyal oil to ward off fleas, arsenic to kill rats and keep them from spreading. My plan is to plant rat poison around the city to try to slow the spread of the plague. And I want you to smear pennyroyal on your clothes and put the dried leaves in your bed to keep the fleas away."
"Alright. I'll help you distribute the rat poison. Anything I can do to help, just let me know."
Flynn smiled for the first time all evening, even if it was tight-lipped. "Thank you. I won't have the poison ready to distribute until tomorrow - I need to mix it with food to get the rats to eat it. Then get these flowers drying because the leaves are almost as good as the oil. There's a lot to do, but I think it could soften the blow of the plague. I'm going to go get Repede taken care of; wait here a moment, please."
After Flynn left, Yuri surveyed the table full of plague deterrents and book for three hundred years of experience with epidemics. In the fight against the plague, he felt like he'd finally been given a weapon. Flynn had already eased his dread.
Flynn returned a few minutes later with a bottle of wine and a two glasses. "Leblanc is taking Repede to the stables. He's going to get a bath and pennyroyal oil on his fur to make sure he doesn't attract fleas, either. He's going to be fine."
Yuri let out a breath in relief. "Thanks, Flynn."
"I'm happy to help. And now, because there's nothing else we can do for the evening, I thought you might enjoy a glass of wine with me?"
Yuri had never been the biggest fan of wine and always preferred cider or ale, but he took a second to consider the current state of Zaphias and decided there had never been a better night to get drunk. "I think I'll take you up on that."
"Let's go to the sitting room, then."
Yuri had never sipped wine in a formal sitting room before, and found he quite enjoyed it. The blue armchairs were comfortable and there was something to be said about drinking in a room with wallpaper and oil paintings rather than stains of questionable origins on bare wooden walls. They sat in matching chairs with a small table between them, which held the bottle and their glasses.
"So I was thinking," Yuri said after a quick toast with Flynn, "that it seems pretty dumb to keep having mass while the plague is in town. All public gatherings are forbidden, except for church, when more people than ever are crowded together."
Flynn shrugged. "I guess the theory is that plague wouldn't have the nerve to infect someone right under God's nose."
"That's stupid as hell. I thought God was everywhere? Wouldn't everywhere be right under His nose?"
"Who knows? Take it up with Duke."
Yuri scowled at his reflection in the red wine. "Do you believe in God?"
"Huh? Why do you ask that?"
"You're dead. I figure you'd have a better idea than anyone else."
Flynn shifted in his seat. He stared at the bottle of wine while deep in thought and Yuri started to wonder if he shouldn't have asked.
"You don't have to tell me if you don't want to."
"No, it's ok." Flynn put his glass down and finished gathering his thoughts. "I guess I'm… not sure. This would kill my mother if she heard me say it, but I don't think I'm Catholic anymore. There is nothing in the Bible about Ankous or collecting souls or taking them to menhirs that have existed since before the birth of Christ. I grew up being told that if I was a good person and followed the Bible, then I would go to Heaven when I died. Well, I did die, and I didn't go to Heaven. I'm off the Christian map. I can't consider myself a follower of the Christian church when my own existence proves there's so much more to the world." He paused for a moment. "But… at the same time, my existence also proves the reality of life after death. I know that an immortal soul is a real thing, and it goes somewhere after death. So I suppose you could say I believe in a god, but not exactly the Lord as featured in the Bible." When he finished talking, Flynn looked to Yuri. "What about you?"
Yuri just shrugged. "No clue, really. I think I'm in the same boat as you. I don't hold much stock in what some dude in Rome has to say about how I run my life, but it's hard to definitively say there's no god."
"That makes sense."
Yuri swirled the wine around his glass with a dour expression. "Have to say, though, about now I'd really be glad for some reassurance of what happens after death."
"I'm afraid I can't tell you anything past Judith escorting you to the menhir."
Yuri grunted and took a deep gulp of wine.
"Hm… you know what the stupidest thing is?" Flynn said.
"Want me to start a list?"
"Ha, no. I meant about the plague regulations. They're killing all the stray cats to try to keep the streets clean. You know what cats kill?"
The irony of it smacked Yuri across the face as he realized. "Oh, for fuck's sake. The rat population is going to explode with no cats to hunt them."
"Yeah." Flynn took a sip. "It's frustrating."
"Are you going to tell me that we should all be gathering close together in the tavern to prevent plague, too? Is everything the government commands just going to make things work?"
"No, no, avoiding public places is for the best. It's only the cat and dog thing that frustrates me."
"It's the mass slaughter of innocent animals for even worse than no reason. All this blood shed to fix a problem the victims aren't even causing! It's so goddamn stupid. It's like picking a scab."
Flynn sighed. "Killing animals to stop the plague will cause more plague to appear."
"It's bullshit."
"Yeah. It is."
The evening continued for some time. As the level of wine in the bottle slowly lowered, Yuri stopped feeling so hopeless about the plague. The pair decided not to keep talking about the plague, because there was sure to be little else on their minds in the coming weeks and for at least one night, they wanted to enjoy themselves.
As the hour approached midnight, Yuri found himself leaning over the arm of his chair and trying to stop his laughter. "Did - did I ever tell you about the time I broke into Ragou's stable?"
"Nope." Flynn has pulled his feet up and leaned into a corner of the chair. "Why'd you do that?"
"'Cause the bastard wasn't feeding his damn horse."
"The bastard!" Flynn enthusiastically agreed.
"So I hopped the fence and found the hay. He was giving the poor thing barely enough to live on per day to cut costs."
"If anyone treated my horses like that, I would punch them," Flynn declared. He rubbed his chin and lifted his gaze. "Although, I'm pretty sure my horses are immortal."
"Punch them anyway."
Flynn couldn't help giggling. "Yeah! For the principle of the thing, of course. So you fed Ragou's horse, then?"
"Oh, yeah, definitely. I filled its trough with as much hay as it cold hood." Yuri laughed at himself and rubbed his eyes. "Could hold, I mean."
"Nice."
"Yeah, so anyway, then it was time to skedaddle. His footmen noticed me in the stable and came running."
"You made it out though, right?"
"Ehhhh. Not exactly. But! I got an awesome scar out of it."
"Oh, yeah? Where?"
Yuri was about to explain, but then figured he could demonstrate just as easily. In a flash, he'd torn off his shirt and tossed it aside. "Check it out." He twisted to the side to show off his hip.
"Jesus, it looks like you got clawed by some sort of monster." Flynn reached between the chairs to run his fingers of the parallel lines slashing across Yuri's hip. "How'd that happen?"
"Ragou's property is walled in, and the walls have spikes on top." Yuri ran his thumb over one of the old scars. "I tried to vault over, one of the footmen caught my ankle, etcetera, etcetera, slashed open my hip. Then the bastard locked me up in the pillory all day the next day so it was almost a full day before Estelle got a chance to look at it and try to treat the cut."
"The bastard."
"Being in the pillory sucks ass, though. Have you ever been in a pillory?"
Flynn snorted. "Do I look like someone who's ever been pilloried?"
Yuri laughed again and wondered why he'd even thought to ask that of uptight, proper Flynn.
"Actually…." Flynn grabbed the wine bottle and sloppily poured more into his glass and then finished it off in Yuri's. "I have."
Yuri jerked his head up quick enough that the room spun. "What? No way. Who had the guts to pillory the god of death?"
Flynn laughed and took another gulp. "It was before that. Before the army. When I was a teenager."
"What did you do?"
"That's a secret."
"Flynn! You gotta tell me!"
"Nope."
"I'm dying here." Yuri thrust his arm forward and managed to land it on Flynn's shoulder. "I need to know."
"Get used to disappointment. But, hey, you wanna see my scars? I have some interesting ones."
"Hell yeah."
It took Flynn longer to take his shirt off, because he wore more layers and had more buttons. His shaking fingers fumbled and struggled with each button and Yuri resisted the urge to lean over and help him, both because that seemed too forward and because he doubted his coordination was any more efficient. Finally, Flynn managed to struggle out of his shirt and tossed it to the floor. Yuri spotted a scar immediately: a huge patch of rough skin on his right chest, with an inch-wide circle indentation in the middle.
Flynn saw Yuri staring and pressed a hand over it. "Where I got shot."
"Figured."
Then he ran his hand to his bicep and pointed out a smooth white line. "Where I almost got stabbed by a pike."
Flynn took a few minutes to point out his other scars, all with their own battle stories. Every scar was a souvenir of the places he'd been and Yuri felt like a stupid peasant who'd never left his hometown. He enjoyed Flynn's stories, though, especially because Flynn rarely spoke of his time in the army and alcohol had loosened his tongue. Yuri lived vicariously through Flynn's tales of battle and for his part, Flynn seemed genuinely interested in Yuri's life in Zaphias.
At the end of the night, when there were two empty bottles of wine on the table and two empty empty glasses on the rug, Yuri and Flynn lay side by side on the floor. Neither of them had bothered putting their shirts back on and both intended to stay right where they were until they could sit upright without getting dizzy.
"Hey… Flynn… thanks."
"Eh?"
"S'been a good night."
"Mmmm."
"Funny how… like… gettin' drunk can make impenden- impenda- immmpending doom seem not so god awful."
"Yeah."
Yuri stared at the floral pattern carved into the crown moulding and wondered if it was really moving or if it was just his eyes. "'F'I'm gonna die this summer… 'm glad I gotta meet'cha first. Almost makes it word-wheel… worthwhile."
"Uh-huh."
"You gonna say an'thing?"
"… 'M gonna pass out."
Yuri gave a great yawn. "Right there with you."
