Taras made a rumbling noise of assent, and sat back in his chair.

"Khorosho."

It was settled then, if Lasha said it was.

He stared at the stove.

Taras had noticed that Ilarion spoke with a confidence about the situation that he had not earlier, not exactly. Though some of the words were the same, the manner in which Lasha said them now was laced with an unthinking assurance.

Taras thought about what he had seen in the mess hall for a moment, and wondered what Isaev and Liadov had said to each other.

"Are you still mad?" he asked, abruptly.

After a second he looked at Lasha, his brow low and conflicted.

"At Liadov, I mean. Or are you going to be comrades again?"