Word Count: 6,003
Summary of Events:
Nikita, with his father's division of fifty men, was out on patrol and heard a suspicious sound; the division was ambushed by a larger troop and forced to retreat, his father died en route to safety. According to the military tradition Nikita was promoted to his father's rank of Lieutenant — despite the fact that he was only a Cavalier — and then went through his father's trunk to find the things of his his father had told him were inside; he didn't recognise any of them, they all looked quite foreign. Gavriila and her mother were making breakfast when they received a knock at the door bearing them terrible news . . .
Excerpt of the Day:
"Rough and urgent a knock sounded on the door. Gavriila's head snapped up from the eggs she'd been minding. Mama hurried to the door and opened it. Old Man Fylondeyor stepped inside quickly, his crooked figure moving oddly with urgency as he made his way to the table and seated himself on the bench.
"I've received terrible word," he said, bending his head oddly to look up at Mama.
Gavriila forced herself to stir the eggs before they burned while she listened.
"Lavrinti?" Mama asked worriedly.
"Yes," Old Man Fylondeyor replied.
"What has befallen him?" Mama asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
"The worst," Old Man Fylondeyor replied.
Gavriila looked over her shoulder at him. No. It couldn't be. Tears were running down Mama's cheeks.
"It was a surprise attack, he was one of ten lost to his unit of fifty," Old Man Fylondeyor said. "His unit commander even died."
"No," Mama whispered.
"I am sorry Comaromkova," Old Man Fylondeyor said quietly. "I came to warn you as soon as I heard your husband was among the dead. We must make ready for you to leave at once."
"No," Mama said, resolution in her voice. "We must receive Lavrinti and bury him. I cannot abandon my love to be cast wherever he is put."
"You endanger yourself Comaromkova," Old Man Fylondeyor said. "If you wait that long."
"He is my love," Mama said. "I must see him buried. Then I will leave."
"You mayn't have the time," Old Man Fylondeyor said. "Only if the soldiers can be distracted will you have the time to get away after you bury him."
"We must start digging his grave now so we are in readiness, and then we will pack all that we need and be ready to leave the instant he is laid to rest and the last shovelful of dirt covers him," Mama said.
"Don't even wait that long Comaromkova," Old Man Fylondeyor said. "They will see you leave and be hotly after you, surely to overtake you. As soon as he is lain down you must depart."
"I don't want to leave him uncovered," Mama said.
"We shall take care of him," Old Man Fylondeyor said. "You must get to safety, and then once the time is right return if such can ever be done safely."
Mama nodded. "Will you stay to breakfast Fylondeyor?"
"No, I must get the men rallied to dig Comaromkova, so that you may be ready," he replied. "And all of Bolodenkagrad must know as well, that we may aid you in escaping."
"Many thanks Fylondeyor," Mama said quietly.
"You are much welcome," Old Man Fylondeyor replied. "My sincerest condolences.""
Fylondeyor: feelawndayoar
Lavrinti: lahv'rihntee
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