by J. Naomi Ay
“No, you don't.” I grabbed Senya by the shoulders as he tried to move past me and out the door. After Loman’s wife’s little tantrum, he decided it was time for him to leave, as well.
“Fuck off, Coppah,” he snarled, twisting away from me and breaking into a run.
He bolted out the front of the house straight into the gun sights of Loman's guards. He pulled up short on the steps giving Loman just enough time to grasp him from behind and wrestle him to the ground.
“You are coming with us now, lad,” Loman said and even this slippery little Karut could not get out from under Loman's three hundred pounds. “Cuff him,” Loman ordered so I did both wrists and ankles and then Loman picked him up like a sack of potatoes, tossed the boy over his broad shoulders and carried him off to the limousine which arrived while we were inside.
“Come on Taner, Berkie,” Loman called, throwing the boy in the back seat. “We've got work to do."
Berkie, still in pajamas, and I climbed into the limo. It was the first time I had been in one and this one, bearing the King’s Royal Crest on the doors was especially grand. Berkie and I sat in the rear facing seats, I immediately across from Senya who was huddled in the corner, his hands locked behind his back and his eyes boring holes in my face.
“Senya's not happy,” Berkie said, playing with the automatic window and when that got boring, the drink dispenser in the mini bar. “Can I have soda?”
“It's five in the morning, Berkie,” Loman snapped. “Of course not!”
“Why did you go to Loman's house?” I asked Senya, staring back at his silver eyes as best as I could. They were hard to look at spilling light as they did. “Have you been there before?”
The boy didn’t respond. He narrowed his eyes at me, so only a thin stream lit the distance between us. He looked as if he would like to take that knife to my throat again.
“Senya came looking for me,” Berkie said, now playing with the vid console.
“Why?” I asked. “Have you ever met him before now?”
“Nope,” Berkie replied, loading up some kind of shooting game. “But I'm his best friend.” Berkie made shooting noises and destroyed a bunch of alien craft. I looked at Loman who stared at his son as if he had just landed on an alien craft.
“Do you know who Senya is?” Loman asked.
“Yep.” Berkie nodded, quite preoccupied.
“Does Senya know who he is?” I asked, glancing from one boy to the next although neither appeared to be paying any attention to me. “Berkie?”
Berkie turned to me for a moment and nodded his head. As I watched him, his image began to fade away.
“Berkie?” I said again, but he was no longer there or rather, I was no longer here. In fact, what I was seeing was a flash of light, silver light and then I was in a room, a room that smelled foul with blood and was exceedingly hot. I was starting to see people now, faces and colors swirled around me.
“Loman, take it out of here.” A baby was thrust into my arms. I felt the warm, dead weight of him. “Do something with him until this gets sorted out.”
I was running. The baby was bouncing in my arms, but he did not cry. Rucia was here. Her body was large and swollen.
“What am I supposed to do with it?” She was screaming, thrusting the baby back at me. “I can't take him. We're having our own baby in case you've forgotten.”
“Just for a few days, Rucia. Just until this gets sorted out. The Karuts will come get him if we don't hide him.”
“Let them have him! Look at him, Loman. He looks just like them. What will the neighbors think? We'll be shunned by everyone. And what's wrong with him? Look at his eyes. No, Loman, I won't do it. I won't! I won't let the Infidel in my house. He'll kill my baby.”
“Where's the boy?” It was the King's voice. I was on the floor in obeisance, and my knee was hurting, shooting pains up my leg.
“Lt. Farman took him. His wife said she will care for him.” It was my voice that I heard speaking.
“I have heard he is strange.”
“His eyes…”
“Yes, and I have heard that things move about him.”
“Yes, Sir. I've heard that too.”
“He has the Infidel's blood.” This was Akan's voice. “Devil's spawn. I told you to kill it when you could, Father.”
“It was not my decision to make, Akan.” The king was leaving. I glanced up and watched his robes sweep away. A whisper of wind passed me as they did. Akan was next to me. His hot breath was in my ear.
“He has strange powers?”
“I don't know,” I said, although I did.
“He is an infant of three months and can move things with his mind. What will he be able to do when he is grown?”
“I don't know.”
“Shut up, Loman!” Akan said. “You stupid, Lightie! My father will not make the decision, but I will. Kill it. I order you to kill it.” I looked in Akan's eyes. If I killed the baby, there would be no one to contest Akan's claim. “I order you Loman!” He screamed.
“Sir,” I replied and bit my tongue.
Lt. Farman and I were in the streets of Old Mishnah. It was raining heavily. The skies were crying upon us, and I was soaked to the bone. I was holding the baby inside my slicker, and he was calmly watching me with those spooky silver eyes. In my head, I heard a woman's voice, Lydia's voice.
“Will you take care of my son, Loman?” She asked me. “Always? If something happens to me? Please?”
“Nothing will happen to you, sweet princess,” I replied. “I am always watching over you.”
“I think it's here,” Farman was saying as we were walking down a dark alley.
There was a door on the left. There were windows overhead, and we could hear children's voices from them. The alley smelled like shit and vomit and rotted trash. Someone was screaming. The baby reached up with his small hand and touched my face. I should have taken him to Karupatani. I should have let him be among his father's people.
“Take care of him, Loman,” Lydia said.
His hand was warm against my face. He had Lydia's hands, her long delicate fingers. His eyes were the same shape too even though the color was strange. He looked like Lydia to me. I memorized his face, his hands and the strange red birthmark on his skull, beneath the silky black hair. Farman was knocking on the door. A woman, a Sainted Lady in a wimple was answering.
“A Karupta?” She exclaimed. “Blessed Saint. Shouldn't he be with them?”
“Take him,” I said and placed him in her arms. She sighed heavily as if the weight of him were too much to bear. Farman handed her the packet of gold coins.
“A princely sum,” she cackled, shaking it, unaware of the irony of her words. “What is his name?”
“Sehron de..,” Farman began, but I interrupted.
“Senya,” I said. “His name is Senya.”
On the way back to the speeder, I shot Farman in the back and left his body in the gutter. No one else but I would know where the baby was hidden.
“Taner?” Loman was shaking me. I had slumped forward in my seat. Berkie was clear to me again and busy blasting starships. Senya was across from me, his silver eyes shining in my face.
“You okay, Taner?” Loman prodded.
I wasn’t sure. I stared at the kid across from me. How many people had already died because of this kid? The Princess, the House Father, Farman, the fat kid and who knew how many others? Maybe Prince Akan was right. Maybe this boy really was the Devil's spawn and the Infidel reborn.
Loman wouldn't kill him then, and he wouldn’t kill him now. The boy would live and grow up with his evil powers and weird eyes and the wars would come back to Rehnor and then thousands maybe even millions would die.
I had to save everyone from this evil. This was why Loman chose me for this assignment. I leapt from my seat and grabbed the boy’s neck with my hands, determined to break it, to choke his la
st breath from him.
“Taner!” Loman yanked my arm, but I held fast, feeling the kid go limp in my clutches. “Taner!”
Loman pulled on me, and I released the boy expecting him to slump lifeless to the floor but instead I was yanked down and thrust on to my back, the boy's legs straddling me like a vise. My neck burned as his knife slashed through it, the wrist and ankle cuffs long gone.
“Stop it!” Loman yelled, pulling the boy off of me.
I clutched my neck, my own blood running through my fingers. Berkie screamed. Senya slashed at Loman and then bolted towards the door, pushing it open while we were still airborne. He jumped out and ran, just as we were landing in the center courtyard of the Palace. The guardsmen awaiting our arrival gave chase and fortunately tackled him.
“What the hell got into you?” Loman demanded, clutching his bleeding arm. Berkie whimpered, staring at both of us with wide wet eyes, afraid to speak.
“My neck?” I said. “Is it bad?”
“No,” Loman snapped. “Your stupid head is still on it. You'll live. Get the boy up to his room and wait there for me. Don't let him out and don't try anything else! Berkie, go with Taner.”
“Where are you going, Papa?” Berkie cried.
“I'm just going to get some sealant on this,” Loman said, pinching his skin. “Go on now.”
I didn’t move. My neck stung.
“Taner,” Loman ordered sternly. “If he wanted to kill you, you'd be dead already. Now go!”
“Come on, Berkie,” I said and taking his hand, we debarked the limo and ran across the courtyard to where a few of our guardsmen held a squirming Senya in their grasp. We had just reached them when Berkie pulled up short.
“Look,” he cried and I looked up to see Prince Akan approaching with his retinue.
“Down, Berkie,” I hissed and together we took a knee.
“Well, look who we have here,” Akan said loudly, his voice was directed at his companion, Lord Phylyp. “The Karut is back.”
"He is indeed!" Phylyp replied joyfully.
“And he's almost all grown up too,” Akan mused. “Hold him steady there and let me see him.” The largest guard, a fellow even bigger than Loman pulled Senya's arms above his head and hung him there for Akan. Akan and Phylyp laughed. “This is how you come to the Palace, Karut? Dressed in rags?” Akan snickered.
“He's very pretty though,” Phylyp smiled. “Don't you think so, Ak? We could have some fun with him.”
“Maybe,” Akan sniffed, sizing the boy up and down.
“His pa was a pretty one too, wasn't he?” Phylyp said curling a tendril of hair around his finger. “Let's see what's underneath those rags.”
“Strip him,” Akan ordered and another guard tugged Berkie’s old clothes off the dangling Senya.
“Oh, he is very nice,” Phylyp cooed. “He is a pretty boy.” Senya’s face turned bright red whether from anger or embarrassment. “But Ak, look at his feet!” Phylyp cried. “He's got claws!"
“Blessed Saint," Akan gasped. "What evil has created this boy?"
"Oh, he's not evil, Akie," Phylyp said stepping closer. "He's luscious!" Phylyp reached out to touch the boy, but Senya would not have it. Even though he was hanging, suspended in the air by the guardsmen's grasp, Senya swung his foot up and raked those clawed toenails down the side of Phylyp's delicate face. Phylyp shrieked and grabbed at his cheek while the guard yanked Senya backward and then smashed him against the ground, pinning him with his enormous knee.
“What in the hell is going on here now?” Loman roared, coming across the courtyard. His arm was bound in a huge bandage, but he was waving it around like a flag. He raced over to us and snatched the boy out from under the guard.
“Akan? Phylyp?” Loman demanded as if he was the King. “What is the meaning of this?” Now he held Senya by the arm, suspending him in midair.
“Look what he has done, Captain Loman,” Akan cried, pointing at five long tears in Phylyp's face.
“He is very sorry, Your Royal Highness,” Loman growled. “Aren't you, lad?”
“Fuck you,” Senya spat, twisting and struggling until Loman put his feet back on the ground.
“Wrong answer,” Loman snapped and hauling the boy up about the waist, he carried him off.
"You'll be punished for this!" Akan called. “Let’s get you to the infirmary, Phyl. They’ll fix you right up.” Berkie and I raced after Loman before anyone could tell us otherwise.
Loman hauled Senya towards the Big House and up to the third or topmost floor. I had never been in this building and was momentarily awed by the grand marble hallways alone before I even saw inside one of the doors. The doors weren’t numbered. Loman clearly knew where to go and swung the heavy wood door open revealing a magnificent suite of rooms. There was a central sitting area, a huge bedroom with a king size ornate four poster bed, a bathroom with a bathtub the size of a swimming pool and a marble shower that could fit four people, an office, and wardrobes. Each room opened out to the sea with French doors on to a terrace that had steps down to the ocean.
“Wow!” Berkie exclaimed.
“Wow!” I agreed, stunned by the opulence.
“Sit down!” Loman barked and tossed Senya onto a leather sofa. The boy immediately leapt up and headed toward the window which was thankfully locked. He climbed into the window box, huddled there and glared at us with his strange, flashing eyes.
“Get him a robe, Taner,” Loman barked again and so I found the door into the wardrobe and grabbed the first thing I saw that looked like a robe.
It was plush black velvet lined in gold silk and embroidered with gold thread. On the left breast, there was a royal crest. I studied it for a moment, fingering it and then glancing around, I realized that this crest was on everything in this room and nearly everything in this suite. In the center of the crest was striking eagle with talons bared and overlaid upon two crossed swords. Above the eagle written in Mishnese was the name of the prince and below the same was written in Karupta letters. All of this was surrounded by intertwined gold and silver leaves and topped by a magnificent gold crown.
“Here,” I said holding the robe out to the boy.
He glared at me and flashed his silver eyes, but made no effort to take it.
“Put it on,” Loman ordered. “You're not going to get any slack here, and you're not going to run away so you might as well realize we are not your enemies. We're here to help you and to keep you alive so quit making that difficult for us.”
“But Taner tried to kill him in the limo,” Berkie said, already searching through the cupboards and refrigerator in the kitchen. He pulled out something that looked like a chocolate torte and stuck his fingers in it. “Yum.”
“Taner forgot his place for a moment,” Loman snapped. “Taner will do his duty now, or he will find his dead ass in a gutter in Old Mishnah. Do you understand me, Taner?”
“Clearly, Captain,” I replied, and glanced over at Senya. Given the choice between Akan and Senya, I would have said we were all totally screwed and should have been packing our bags for Rozari, but right then, I still needed that job.
Senya narrowed his eyes at me.
“Rozari,” he said which was the first utterance from his mouth that didn't include an obscenity.
“Rozari,” I repeated realizing how he came to say this. “You know, Captain, this kid can read minds. He can also put thoughts in your mind. He can, in fact, take stuff out of your mind and put it in mine. For instance, that little mess with Lt. Farman that put his wife and kids on a widow's pension for the last twelve years.”
“What do you know about that?” Loman turned abruptly on me.
“I know he found his ass in a gutter in Old Mishnah,” I said, wishing I had a cig, and suddenly feeling incredibly drained from having been up all night. I sat down on the sofa. “In the limo, before I decided it would probably be better not to have this kid around,
I was entertained by a vision of young Loman and Farman hiding a baby in an orphanage.”
Loman stared at me, then slowly, turned back to the boy.
“How do you know all this?” He demanded.
Senya had a cig between his fingers and took a long drag on it.
“Hey, where'd he get that?” I cried considering the boy was naked a moment ago, and there weren't any cigs in the pockets of the robe.
“How do you know about Farman?” Loman demanded louder, and I wasn’t sure if he was yelling at me or at Senya.
“Senya says it's in your head, Papa,” Berkie replied from the kitchen where he was drinking a soda, having made a mess of the cake. “He said there is nothing worthwhile in my head.” To this, Berkie broke into peals of laughter, snorting the soda out his nose.
Senya smiled a little, narrowing his eyes and blowing smoke into the air.
“This kid is creeping me out,” I mumbled, finding an empty pack of cigs in my own pocket.
The door opened just then, and the Lord Chamberlain, a small wiry man with thick glasses looked in. I jumped to my feet.
“Everything alright in here?” Dickon, the Lord Chamberlain said, appearing almost comical in his oversized fancy robe and ruby medallion.
I almost laughed. Peachy, I wanted to say, but didn’t.
“Fine thank you, Dick,” Loman replied with a forced smile that looked more like a grimace.
“Let me see our young man.” Lord Dickon came into the room and peered at all of us. “You're not him,” he pointed to Berkan. Berkan nodded to the window box. Dickon focused on Senya. His eyebrows lifted in surprise. “Have you no clothing for him, Loman?”
“He's bigger than we anticipated,” Loman replied huffily. “We are waiting for the valets.”
“Hmm,” Dickon frowned. “It is the correct boy. I can tell just by looking at him. Image of his father although you can see there is something of Lydia in him, as well. You will need to cut his hair. It is far too long and unruly. I dare say, His Majesty won't like it at all.”
“What time is his audience, Dick?” Loman asked and rubbed his brow.
“Four,” Dickon replied. “And then the King has scheduled a presser for seven. He wants to do some balcony waving but perhaps we shall get lucky, and it will rain. I hate balcony waving.”
Loman grumbled something unintelligible and pinched the bridge of his nose.
“Well then,” Dickon said. “Carry on and tell those valets to speed it up. I should like him to wear Dress Blacks for his audience and presser. Loman, get the boy some food. He looks terribly hungry. Goodbye then.” Dickon went out the door and then a moment later, opened it again and stuck his head in.
“Yes?” Loman asked.
“I just wanted to say Happy Birthday, Your Royal Highness,” Dickon smiled. “And welcome home.” The door shut again.
“Who was he talking to?” Berkie asked, unwrapping an ice cream bar. “Whose birthday is it?”
“Senya's birthday,” Loman replied and rolled his eyes. “He's twelve today.”
“Cool,” Berkie said. “I'll be twelve, too, in three months and four days. Do we get cake?”
“Come here, Berkie.” Loman sat heavily on the couch across from me. “Stop eating and let me tell you why we are here.” Berkie quickly ate his ice cream and then sat down next to his father. Loman put his arm around his son and spoke to him, pointedly ignoring the boy in the window box. “Senya's going to live here now,” Loman said. “This is his home. This was his mother's apartment before she died and now it is his.”
“Why does he have to live here?” Berkie asked.
“Well, Berkie,” Loman cleared his throat. “It's a long story, but for now I'll just tell you the King is Senya's grandfather. His mama was a beautiful princess named Lydia and his father is a prince of Karupatani named Sorkan. Senya's other grandfather is the King of Karupatani. Senya's real name is Sehron de Kudisha, and the Karuptas call him the MaKennah ka Rehnor which means something like the Savior of Rehnor. Can you imagine Senya saving Rehnor?”
Berkie broke into peals of laughter. “That's nutty!”
“It is,” Loman agreed.
“Bloody insane,” I added for which Loman glared at me.
“Between you and me and Taner,” Loman continued. “We're going to work with Senya and teach him things so that he can do the best job he can possibly do being the…ahem, savior. You see Berkie, Senya is also the Crown Prince of both Mishnah and Karupatani. That means someday he's going to be King of the whole planet.”
“The Lighties and the Darks too?” Berkie asked.
“Everybody,” Loman said. “So he can't go live on the streets of Old Mishnah anymore. Everybody knows he's alive and in a few hours at the presser, everybody is going to see what he looks like. He can't go back to running around all night, selling drugs and killing people. He has to cut his hair and put on nice clean clothes and speak and act like a gentleman, like a prince.”
“I can do that,” Berkie said. “Can I be a prince?”
Loman laughed sardonically. “Sorry, but you can't be a prince unless your dad is and I'm no prince. But, if it's alright with Senya, you can stay here. We'll get a bed for you and new clothes, and you can go to school with him here, and we will make you in charge of keeping Senya out of trouble.”
“How do I do that?”
“You just make sure he doesn't knife anyone,” I said.
Berkie appeared to ponder this for a few moments and then nodded. The poor kid had no idea what that might entail.
“Senya wants to know why he can't go back to being dead,” Berkie said.
“Because he's alive,” Loman replied. “Let me tell you why Senya was born, Berkie. The two kings decided they needed a very special prince who was both Mishnese and Karupta so that he would stop the wars between them. The Saint decided that this special prince needed magical powers. Senya is too special to be dead.”
Berkie looked across the room at Senya who was still ignoring all of us while chain smoking cigs in the window box.
“Senya says the Saint was just an ordinary guy and doesn’t give out magical powers especially since he's been dead for about a thousand years. He says the Infidel doesn't give out magical powers either, and he's dead too. Besides that,” Berkie continued. “Magic implies that what Senya does is supernatural or with knowledge of the occult and that's not true either because he knows exactly what he does and how he does it, and it's not magic.”
“What?” I gasped.
“Do you understand what you just said, Berkie?” Loman asked.
“Nope,” Berkie said. "Why was I born? How come I didn't get to be a special prince with magical powers?"
Loman and I stared at Berkie for a moment and then turned simultaneously to the window box. Senya had his back to us and seemed to be gazing out at the ocean.
“Berkie,” I asked. “How is Senya talking to you?”
“In my head,” Berkie replied. “And he says that it’s okay for me to stay here, but he wants to go live in Karupatani if he can't go back to Old Mishnah. He also said I don't get to be a prince with magical powers, but someday I'll have a very important job, and that's why I was born."
"What the hell are you talking about?" I cried.
"I don't know," Berkie shrugged.
“Senya,” Loman spoke to the window. "You can't go to Karupatani now. Maybe someday you may visit but not now."
I looked at Berkie and waited for a response. Berkie shrugged again. “Why not?”
“Because King Yokaa wants him here now,” Loman barked.
“Why? Senya is Karupta.”
“Senya is just as much Mishnese as he is Karupta and he had better realize that!” Loman shouted at Berkie.
“Okay,” Berkie whispered and his eyes filled with tears. He turned toward Senya. “I'm not going to get in trouble for you, Senya. You've got to talk for yourself now.�
��
No response.
Berkie's lower lip trembled.
“What?” Loman asked, calming down.
“He wants some eggs. He hasn't eaten in a few days, and he's hungry for a lot of them like ten or twenty.”
“Okay,” Loman wrapped his arm around Berkie. “You want some eggs?” Berkie shook his head.
“Nope. I’m full.”
“I'll order them,” I said and got up to ring catering to bring up breakfast for us.
“Can you order a massive birthday cake?” Berkie asked. “After all, if Senya is going to be king of the whole planet, he ought to have the biggest birthday cake.” Berkie held out his arms to show that the cake should be that big. “That's my idea,” he added. “Senya doesn't care about a cake.”
“Who's it for?” The catering department lady asked me.
“Uh...Sen...Uh...His Royal Highness, the Crown Prince.” It sounded ridiculous to be referring to the naked, creepy kid in the window box this way. “He's very hungry, so please be quick about it.”
“I'll make him a lovely cake,” the lady told me. “His mum loved chocolate always. Does he like chocolate too?”
“I guess.”
“We'll put all sorts of decorations on it and lots of sweet frosting. We'll make it just lovely,” she said. “Tell the lad Happy Birthday for us, Mr. Taner, and welcome back.”
“Happy Birthday and welcome back from the catering department,” I mumbled as I rang off. Everyone was so excited he was back. Obviously they hadn’t seen him yet.
Loman rose and walked over to the window box. “We've only got a few hours to get you ready, Senya,” he said. “So it's very important you cooperate with us. The valets are going to fit you for new clothes, the doctor is going to make sure you're healthy, and the hairdresser is coming to cut your hair. After you've eaten and dressed, Taner is going to show you how to act whilst in the presence of His Majesty and work with you on speaking proper Mishnese. Berkie is not going to come with you so you cannot use him as your mouthpiece. Do you understand me, lad?”
The boy shrugged.
“I will come with you,” Loman continued. “And Lt. Taner is going to be right outside the door. Taner is your body guard now. He will make sure nothing happens to you.”
“'e won't be very good at it,” Senya said.
“Taner is very well trained,” Loman replied.
“The fuckin' fruit's gonna 'ave me shot an Taner ain't gonna do shit.”
I coughed into my hand. Berkie giggled. Loman cleared his throat.
“Your uncle, Prince Akan is not going to have you shot. He may threaten you, but he won't hurt you. You are under the King's protection.”
“The fruit is Senya's uncle?” Berkie gasped.
“Hush Berkan,” Loman ordered. “Taner come here and swear your allegiance to the Crown Prince and promise to protect him.”
“Excuse me?” I said.
“Taner!” Loman snapped. A bit reluctantly, I crossed the room and took a knee.
“Um…yes, well…I promise,” I started to say. Senya's silver eyes were shining into my face.
For a moment, my head went fuzzy. I looked up at him, and I saw him, but not as a boy. I saw a man with long black hair, a short cropped black beard, and silver eyes that shone so bright they eclipsed the sun. He radiated power as he towered over me, there was an aura about him as if the Saint himself has touched him and blessed him. I gazed up at him, my heart swelling with love and devotion and then I fell to the floor at his feet and swore my oath of fealty.
“You can get up now Taner,” Loman said. I heard footsteps cross the room, and the door opened, but I was stunned by what I had seen and for a moment could not move.
“Get up, Taner,” Berkie squatted down beside me and whispered in my ear. “Senya is leaving.”
I lifted my head and stared across the room at Senya's back. Briefly, the boy turned around and his silver eyes shone once again at me, a sly smile on his lips. My heart trembled, and my skin prickled.
“Get up, Taner,” Berkie nudged me. “Your breakfast is here.”
Stumbling to my feet, I continued to stare at the door Senya had just disappeared through with the valets.
“You okay, Taner?” Berkie asked.
I turned to Loman. He was looking at me with narrow eyes. “What the heck?” I shook my head, the image of the grown Senya still in my skull. “What is he?”
Loman shook his head.
“Did you see him?”
“Who?” Berkie asked.
Loman smiled slightly and nodded. “Twelve years ago today.”
“Who?” Berkie demanded again.
“The MaKennah ka Rehnor,” Loman replied. “The man who will save us.”
Chapter 5
Meri