Nightjar

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Nightjar Page 2

by Gabbo De la Parra


  A knock on the door saved Adder from having to deal with that question. He didn’t have a clear answer for it, and that was disturbing.

  Renan went to open the door and, with an obnoxious flourish, gestured Bracken inside. “King Bracken.”

  Adder caught the minute flinch at the word “king.” He moved to the table and started fixing a plate for Bracken. The silence made him turn back toward the two men. “What’s going on?”

  “I’m trying to gauge if he has a weapon. There’s nothing under his tunic, but…”

  Adder didn’t roll his eyes, but he thought about it. He addressed Bracken, “You’re going to behave, right?”

  Bracken gave a withering look to Renan before answering. “You claimed me in front of your men. I’m your property now. I know my place.” And just when Adder thought he was done, Bracken added, “Besides, if I wanted to do something dishonorable, as long as my hands are free I don’t need a weapon…”

  What a wonderful contradiction Bracken the Lakon was. “You see, Great Counselor? He’s going to behave.”

  “That’s not what he said,” Renan sputtered as if someone had hit him with a flying chamber pot.

  “I’d like some privacy now.” Adder dismissed Renan with a wink.

  His friend left, closing the door quietly but with a droning muttering that was a lot worse than a slamming door.

  “Here.” Adder offered Bracken the plate he had been serving.

  “Where are your manservants?”

  “There are no manservants on this ship. The two men you saw helping me undress are punished soldiers. They did something very stupid and cannot wear the colors of Munus for two moons.”

  Bracken shook his head. “You’re a cruel man. The colors of his people are sacred to a warrior.”

  “You’d rather have them lashed.”

  “I don’t know what they did, so I cannot rule on their sentence, but two moons without the colors of your country is cruelty.”

  Adder sprang, like the viper that gave him his name, and grabbed Bracken by the jaw with one hand, squeezing it. “You think I’m cruel?”

  Bracken narrowed his eyes and closed his fists, but didn’t move to free himself. “I’m undecided,” he growled between his teeth.

  Adder’s hand snapped open. “That you are.”

  This king of Lakoneh was going to drive him crazy. All the control he had shown while being claimed, when it was obvious that he was enjoying it, had turned Adder’s fury into scorching lust. Not the kind of lust easily sated with conquering your partner, but the one that needed slow methodical determination to subjugate, to own, to possess. Adder wanted to see Bracken writhing, overwhelmed with pleasure. He wanted to shatter those walls that weren’t fear but discipline. Yes, Adder had bent other men, and they had shown restraint, but because the action was alien to them and it was their duty to grit their teeth and take it. This rider of vultures was something Adder hadn’t encountered before.

  “Why do you look at me like that?”

  Bracken might know the situation, but he wasn’t going to stop being a king easily, and that was fine with Adder.

  “How am I looking at you?”

  “You seem inclined to open my head and examine my brain.”

  Adder tilted his head and stared into those ghostly eyes. Bracken’s eyes were like a cloudless summer sky when the sun was at its highest, so light they were almost colorless, and his tanned skin made them more haunting by contrast. He walked to the door without answering and opened it. He yelled, “Raise anchor. We’re going home.”

  The men cried, “Adder,” in response.

  Returning to the table, Adder started to fix his own plate. He felt Bracken’s eyes following and studying him. He sat. “Let’s eat. My palace will be a better place for examinations.”

  “If you say so, Beloved of Erin.”

  “You know, you say those words as if it is an insult. Don’t you worship the goddess?”

  Bracken looked at Adder as if he had sprouted another head. “Of course I do. She’s the goddess of the land, the queen of the waters, mother of gryphons and vultures and all nature. She and Apheilon are everything, the balance, day and night, life and death.”

  “You’re reciting like a scholar not a believer.”

  “And you said the examinations were going to happen at your palace.” Bracken grinned cheekily. This made his features soften, but not in a weak way. It made them look almost divine, as if he were a statue of Apheilon come to life.

  “You’re right. Let’s finish the meal and go outside for some fresh air.”

  They didn’t speak another word until done. Adder stood and gestured toward the door. Outside two gryphons were grooming each other under the vigilant eye of their riders. One of the punished soldiers vigorously dried Adroit, Adder’s gryphon, who apparently had decided to take a dive and procure his own meal from the ocean. Now and then, Adroit would poke him with his beak, as if aware of the man’s sins.

  “I thought they would be noisier,” Bracken commented as they moved fore.

  This surprised Adder since he had expected a silent Bracken for the rest of the journey. Still, he answered with his own question. “Are your vultures noisy animals?”

  “No.”

  “Then what made you think gryphons would be so?”

  “I haven’t been around them much, but the ones I recall were a loud bunch.”

  “They were either untrained or sick.”

  “Oh.”

  They stopped at arm’s length from Adroit. The gryphon moved his head forward so Adder could pet him. Adder did it absentmindedly, mostly gauging Bracken’s reactions. Those magnificent eyes softened as Bracken heard the soft murmurs Adroit was making while petted. “You can touch him,” Adder offered.

  Bracken narrowed his eyes and his features turned murderous. “Your men killed my vulture.”

  Before he could censor his mouth, Adder said softly, “I’m sorry.”

  “Are you?”

  The words hadn’t been quiet, and the two riders close to them stared. “Do not question me, Lakon,” Adder said angrily, more for the benefit of his men than from actual ire. Adroit looked at him quizzically, thanks to his tone.

  “That’s what I thought.”

  It had come out under Bracken’s breath, but Adder heard it nonetheless.

  This was not what Adder had intended. He gestured toward starboard. They propped their elbows on the rails as they reached the bulwark. The silhouette of Busar was a faint interruption of the horizon; soon the engulfing twilight would make it disappear. Adder had been in the yearly summit of the Five Ocean Kingdoms in Gikid. It moved from island to island every year, and in two years it would be back to Munus, where Adder would have to deal with the other four kings and the thousand people each used as retinue. Why couldn’t they be like him, who traveled only with Renan and a team of the Royal Guard to such events?

  “Which Ocean Kingdom is that? We are not moving toward it, so it’s not Munus,” Bracken asked quietly, his gaze toward the darkening waters.

  “It’s Busar.”

  “I went there my first year as king. The wedding of their Crowned Prince to one of the princes of the other islands. The kingdom of Zigag, if I’m not mistaken.”

  “I don’t remember that wedding.”

  “You weren’t king yet. Your father was bedridden. I think no one from Munus was there.”

  Adder chuckled. “I’m older than you, but you were king before me.”

  “Destiny has no favorites, only victims,” Bracken said in a convinced tone.

  Adder exhaled softly as the night neared. “We were not born to be kings.”

  “And yet, here we are.”

  ****

  Chapter Three

  Kept

  Bracken slept alone in an unlocked cabin. His body simply decided that it was best to sleep instead of being awake and alert when his situation was already clear. He had been claimed by Adder as War Trophy and thus bound by honor
to accept this man’s ruling over him. He would be a Kept, and that was that. There were no Kept in Lakoneh; Bracken didn’t leave enemies alive to become his pets. That was the Lakonian way: give your enemy a just death. Still, accepting your destiny was also honorable.

  The loud dealings of mooring awoke Bracken. The entire ship was a blur of activity as he stepped onto the deck. Sails were folded, men yelled, gryphons flew in all directions. He stood out of the way, admiring and absorbing everything. Perhaps this would be his life now since Adder traveled a lot and might take a Kept with him for entertaining. Bracken wondered how many Kept Adder had.

  The peace between the five Ocean Kingdoms and the five Land Kingdoms was relative at best and maintained with constant skirmishes. Big battles, like the one he thought he had won only to lose his men afterward, were rare but inevitable in an area where any slight could be considered a war declaration. To Bracken’s knowledge, a king would only have high-ranking enemy officers, princes, or another king as Kept. Adder had subjugated the Land Kingdom of Vurgeg, Lakoneh’s north neighbor, three years ago, but their king hadn’t been at battle. Now Vurgeg was vassal to Munus, and all other kingdoms were trying to be extremely nice with the most powerful Ocean Kingdom. Bracken had had an honorable motive for war, so if this was the outcome, he welcomed it with acceptance in his heart.

  Adder walked toward him with a friendly face. Like there was a reason for them to be friends. Although, Bracken felt uncharacteristically confused by the way things had unfolded between them the previous day. His body had taken away the option to think about it last night. Now it was Adder’s presence.

  “Morning. We’re going to Gryphonire.”

  “I’ve never ridden a gryphon,” Bracken said, unapologetic.

  “I’m riding you.” Adder smirked.

  Sure you will.

  Bracken didn’t answer, just kept his face blank. A soldier came with Adroit. Her saddle was a rich thing of luminous leather and gold adornments. Adder climbed easily since he only wore light armor. The way his powerful lightly haired thighs held him in place made Bracken think of the ruthless battering that never took place.

  Adder extended a hand. “Come”

  Clasping Adder’s wrist, Bracken put a foot on the stirrup and was pulled upward. It was wrong the way his body reacted as he sat between pommel and groin. Almost the same position he had been in when Adder claimed him.

  Reins in one hand, Adder pulled Bracken flush to his chest; the plates of his cuirass reminded Bracken this wasn’t supposed to be enjoyable. He whispered in Bracken’s ear, “Ready?”

  The soft blow was a malign caress. Bracken couldn’t help an involuntary shiver. This angered him. He growled, “The Lakon is always ready.”

  “We’ll see. Home, Adroit!” Adder ordered with a pull to the reins.

  Adroit launched herself upward almost vertically, something vultures didn’t do. The gryphon did several circles, making the enormous ship look smaller and smaller, then headed south across the island.

  “Why to Gryphonire and not to the city palace?” Bracken asked just to shake his mind away from memories of Silvercall and the nuisance of Adder’s body pressed against his.

  “Two reasons. I want to see my son after a week away from him and my true bed is at Gryphonire.”

  And his fuck toys need to be close to his bed.

  Beyond the large fortified capital city of Munus, Varvarar, they flew over gentle green slopes and hills, grazed by all manner of bovidae. Extensive grain and produce farms colored the plains. Bracken knew of the rich metal mines toward the northern end of the island. These things made the people of Munus not just healthy and prosperous but eager to expand their power. Under normal circumstances Lakoneh would not envy Munus’s wealth, but things had been hard last winter. It all led to Bracken being on the back of a gryphon with his traitorous body relishing Adder’s harsh embrace during the entire two hundred and fifteen mileh flight. An hour of sensual torment.

  Gryphonire was a tall rock formation in the middle of a solitary, shallow bay and only accessible by wings. One thing was to hear about it and another to see it with your own eyes. A formidable complex confidently lay on top, blinding in its splendor of long, white-marbled columns and walls, crowned with red-tiled roofs. Bracken was awestruck.

  Adder must have sensed it in Bracken’s body language because he murmured, full of himself, “Impressive, huh?”

  A childish part of him, the one that had been climbing inside him irreverently and steadily since Bracken mounted the gryphon, wanted to say, “Meh.” But the honorable adult, the respectful adult said, “Very much.”

  “I’m glad you like it.”

  These words didn’t make any sense. Why would Adder care what Bracken thought of his nest palace? The way he spoke, the way he tilted his head to observe Bracken was pure nonsense; it made Bracken uneasy.

  Bracken wasn’t keen on uneasiness.

  Gryphons and their riders came and went from the many terraces jutting from the monumental grey rock. They alighted on the one closest to the complex and dismounted. A muscular red-haired man and a boy that looked like a small version of Adder came to greet them, along with guards and servants to handle Adroit. The boy jumped into Adder’s arms, exclaiming, “Abba, I missed you so much!”

  Adder kissed the boy’s face many times while ruffling his hair. The boy giggled, content. “I missed you too, son.” Adder squeezed the boy with his powerful arms. “A lot.” He turned to the redhead with a nod. “Selleck.”

  “My King,” said Selleck with a reverent bow.

  “This is your new charge, Bracken the Lakon. Rider of Vultures. King of Lakoneh,” Adder informed Selleck, pointing at Bracken with a swift jaw movement.

  “King Bracken.” Selleck bowed again.

  Bracken nodded politely.

  “Lakon, meet the Overseer of the Kept.” Then the boy elbowed Adder. This made Adder chuckle. “And this is my son, Prince Deron.”

  “Hello!” said Deron with all the enthusiasm of a whirlwind.

  “Nice to meet you, Prince Deron,” Bracken offered as he lightly bowed.

  “Selleck, I want the Lakon in my chambers after the evening meal. You two are dismissed.” Adder stood there with a stony demeanor, completely at odds with everything he had done until that moment.

  “Yes, sire. Please follow me, King Bracken.”

  Bracken followed Selleck, a bit miffed. Before they exited the terrace, he looked back and caught Adder staring at him with his head a little tilted and his brow furrowed as Deron talked to him animatedly.

  It seems I am not alone in my confusion.

  They moved through ample rock tunnels to emerge on the beautiful complex’s central courtyard. Men and women went about their daily activities, the calling of gryphons now and then interrupting the natural human bustle. They wound between columnar corridors of white marble adorned with giant vases of precious metals. A standing man could easily fit in any of these odd vases. Perhaps that was their actual purpose.

  Selleck stopped in front of a huge, darkwood door. Intricate battle scenes lined it. There were no soldiers guarding it. “Here we are. This is the residence of the Kept.” He pushed the door.

  The place was not what Bracken had been expecting. It looked like the monstrous love child of an inn and a gymnasium. Exercise equipment, game tables, and huge canopy beds with colorful drapes. The walls were pink and red; Bracken had never seen pink walls, not even in whorehouses.

  At the other end of the strange room, a full pool glittered. A pool where something unpleasant was happening.

  “He doesn’t look like he’s enjoying it.” Bracken eyed Selleck narrowly. Why wasn’t he stopping the two men forcing a younger one?

  “I don’t think you are supposed to enjoy it. Penetration hurts.”

  “Experience?”

  “And a most hurtful one.” Selleck shook his head. “Don’t worry, if they get too rough with him I’ll stop them, and if they hurt the boy more than neede
d, I’ll punish them.”

  “Magnanimous.”

  “Oh, shut up.” Selleck grabbed Bracken’s upper arm and guided him forward. “Don’t let this moment disturb you. Those are two War Trophies making an Offering pay for a prank.” Selleck must have seen Bracken’s confusion written all over his face because he explained, “Offerings are sons of wealthy families offered for a boon or to ingratiate themselves with our king. Seven Offerings and five War Trophies share this space— well, now six with you, King Bracken.

  “Those Offerings are little demon pests that gang up on the War Trophies. Obviously they must do it singling one at a time, and this leads to each group trying to one-up the other constantly.” Selleck kept moving Bracken toward the left side of the hall. “Last week the seven Offerings gangbanged one of the War Trophies. He was not happy all covered in semen at the end.”

  “And King Adder approves these antics?”

  Selleck’s face became serious abruptly. “Our King doesn’t care much for the Kept. He uses them once or twice when they arrive and then forgets about them. After a few years he sends the War Trophies as chiefs of distant out-of-the-way barracks. The Offerings might become ambassadors or administrative officers somewhere. You’re the first actual king he has. I know his father had the King of Doriar, but I’d need to go to the archives to find out what was done with him.” Selleck seemed genuinely apologetic.

  Doriar was the southernmost kingdom of the five Land Kingdoms. Bracken remembered that story of the King of Doriar becoming a Kept from when he was a child.

  “This is why the Lakon doesn’t have Kept,” Bracken said under his breath, as a glare caught his attention. It was a glittering gold statue of Apheilon, on a pedestal between red columns. Bracken ate the twenty paces swiftly and went to one knee reverently. “Father, bless my people and give wisdom to Idared to guide them until my nephew, Fern, can rule as my successor.” He then recited the old prayers. He stood up when he finished.

  “Why don’t you have a son, King Bracken?” Selleck asked, clearly interested.

  “I don’t have use for women. I prefer men. The son of my sister Laelia is my heir. Idared, his father, is my first general. His parents will be good regents until Fern is sixteen.”

 

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