Nightjar

by Gabbo De la Parra

  The man thought for a moment. “The White Group, sire.”

  “Thank you.” Adder did an about-face and hurried to the White Group offices. People started to bow and greet him as soon as he entered the practical, unadorned space. High windows inundated the austere space with incongruently cheerful light.

  The White Group was the most orthodox of all the officials of the kingdom; they probably had their own backup records. Adder stopped in front of Head of the Whites’ desk. Kurtfer stood up with haste, bowing profusely. “My King, what brings you here?”

  “Did emissaries from Lakoneh come last winter?”

  “Well, yes, sire,” Kurtfer answered, his face puzzled.

  “And I was away.”

  “Yes. The Great Counselor presided that hearing. An unfortunate incident.” He shook his head, and then flinched as if he shouldn’t have said that.

  “What do you mean?”

  Kurtfer hesitated, and looked around like someone ready to flee.

  “You may speak freely, Kurtfer. Explain yourself.”

  “My King, I am a lowly thing to ever consider questioning your decisions, but all the people present during that hearing thought your instructions to deal with the Lakonians very harsh. After all, they were asking for help and willing to pay for the food.” He bowed again before saying, “You are a great and noble king, and it seemed so out of character to instruct the Great Counselor to deny hungry people and kill two of their three emissaries.”

  The rage surging inside Adder shouldn’t explode in front of this man. It needed to be aimed at someone else. He kept his face impassive. “Sometimes things are more complicated than what they seem on the surface.”

  “I’m sure of that, my King. You must have had your reasons. I’m no one to question them.” Kurtfer lowered his head.

  “Thank you for your time,” Adder said flatly. He left the White Group offices in search of Adroit. He was going back to Gryphonire to wait for his friend.

  Evening arrived, and Adder sat in Renan’s chambers. He had avoided Nightjar and mostly everybody because he was sure his temper would flare and cause some unnecessary inconvenience. The worst had been Deron, who was astoundingly excited after his warrior’s meal with Nightjar. He felt like shit for avoiding his son.

  All these hours later, Adder wasn’t as pissed off as he had been upon finding what Renan had done, but he was far from being forgiving about it. He had tried to conjure a logical explanation for Renan’s actions. Did he know something about Lakoneh at the time that prompted him to be so harsh on behalf of Adder?

  Nightjar’s hateful face as he spoke about his starving people kept appearing to Adder, and that was the thing that aggravated him the most. Nightjar had called him cruel when he learned about the two soldiers that couldn’t wear the colors of Munus. Sometimes things looked rash and unyielding when you didn’t have all the pieces to put the puzzle together. He didn’t have all the pieces of the Vurgeg ships, and he didn’t have all the pieces of Renan’s refusal to aid Lakoneh. But one thing was the reaction to the other, or so it seemed.

  Adder hadn’t been in Renan’s chambers in months, but he noted changes that might seem nothing for the untrained eye. Everything was heavily adorned and extravagant; as if competing with Adder’s own chambers. When servants came to light the lamps in Renan’s room, he ordered them to just light two, the closest to him. The rest of the room remained in darkness, and that was how Renan found it.

  The Great Counselor cursed the darkness as he stubbed his foot with something in his way. Any other person would have been startled to find another sitting in his room uninvited; Renan simply said “hey” when he saw Adder faintly illuminated by the scarce light.

  “How was your day in Lemvar?”

  “Favorable,” Renan responded, moving to a chair facing Adder and starting to unlace his braces. His scabbard with Schizo still attached to his waist.

  “Why kill two of the three Lakonian emissaries?”

  Renan cocked his head, unreadable. “You only need one person to relay a message.”

  “That’s not the way Munus does things, Renan.”

  “Seemed like the right action at the time.” Renan shrugged.

  “The right thing to do always has a purpose. I don’t see a purpose to killing those men.”

  “It was a man and a woman actually, and the purpose was to send a message to Lakoneh.”

  It was one thing to kill in battle, defending your land, your people. What Renan did seemed simply evil for the sake of evil.

  “And according to you, what was this message that needed blood spilled to be conveyed?”

  “Well,” Renan move to his feet, found a pitcher and poured some water, “you know how Lakoneh always stands apart. They are part of the Five Kingdoms of Land, but keep to themselves, not getting involved in anything. When asked to deal with matters of the Ten Kingdoms they stay neutral, not in favor or against any situation. They needed to know Munus would not take their shit anymore.”

  This was the most unconvincing reason Renan had ever given for any of his decisions. Adder went to his friend. “Too much, Renan. Too much,” Adder said quietly, squeezing his friend’s shoulder. “They were starving, and they were not asking for handouts. They were willing to pay for the food.”

  “That was the worst part. They weren’t even begging.”

  “Would you have acted differently if they had come begging?”

  Renan shook his head petulantly. “Nah. They came with a cockamamie story about the Lakon going to the Oracle of Cummia, and the Oracle telling him that we were the solution to their problem. As if by invoking Apheilon we were going to be lenient.”

  “You know why one of my titles is ‘Beloved of Erin’?”

  “Yes. Your mother had to make a sacrifice at the feet of the goddess to be able to get pregnant.” Renan grimaced as if Adder asked this question weekly.

  “But you don’t know what the sacrifice was or how she came to know to do so.”

  “No.”

  “My father swam to Cummia, Renan. And the Oracle said that the only way for my mother’s womb to be fruitful was to be bitten by an adder in the presence of Erin.” Adder moved away from his best friend and paced back and forth. “Their reaction was that of any normal person ‘how can the bite of a poisonous snake be helpful?’ but they had faith in the gods, and they did it and here I am.”

  Adder’s dead older brothers were sons of a different mother. His father had loved Adder’s mother so much that he risked the shark-infested waters to find a way for the woman he loved to give him a child. And thanks to that their lineage hadn’t been broken either.

  “And your point is?”

  “That we trust the wisdom of the gods, Renan. You should have investigated if their claims were true before acting.”

  “What’s done is done. Besides—”

  An alarm that had never sound before rang violently. Someone was attempting to invade Gryphonire. Renan and Adder unsheathed Schizo and Telos, and ran toward the doors. As they exited guards came to them. “Flying riders, my King,” said one. “They have the colors of Lakoneh, but they are not riding vultures. We’ve never seen the beast they ride!”

  Adder’s first thought was Deron. Allu and his men should be able to protect him, but he needed to be sure. He told the guards, “Half of you with me, the other half protect the Great Counselor.” He turned to Renan. “Go to the safe room within the rock. We’ll meet you there when it’s over.”

  Renan grabbed his wrist. “I should fight beside you.”

  “No. I need you to protect my son if something happens to me.”

  “As you wish.” Renan let go of Adder’s hand and left with the guards surrounding him.

  The sounds of battle, the clang of metal, the yells of injury, and the crash of things flung and broken sounded in the courtyards and terraces. Allu’s men and two other squads were surrounding Deron’s quarters when he arrived with a complete squad that had joined him on his way
there. He looked at the men guarding the door.

  One said, “Captain Allu is in there with him, my King.”

  Adder exhaled, relieved. Now he only needed to find his Nightjar. There were always guards at his chambers’ doors but he couldn’t be sure if others joined them due to the commotion, and they wouldn’t know what to do with the Lakon since there was no contingency plan for a guest in his chambers.

  All those concerns dissipated when he found Nightjar with Deron on his lap. Both were safe; Allu and eight of his men had been guarding them inside.

  Nightjar rocked Deron sweetly. “I told you your Abba wouldn’t take long.”

  ****

  Chapter Thirteen

  Burden

  The boy on his lap jerked to get to his father. Bracken let go. The outer calm he had maintained since the first alarm sounded was ready to shatter. He knew why his people had come; that didn’t mean he had to like it. Worst of all, the idea of something happening to Adder was unbearable. It was hard to accept it wasn’t only for Deron, but for his own sake.

  Deron jumped to his father’s arms, hugging him. “Abba, ask King Bracken! I was afraid but I didn’t cry or anything!”

  Adder stared at Bracken. His eyes spoke of more than just whether his son had been crying or not. He had seen concern like that when his mother was about to die in his father’s eyes.

  Bracken swallowed hard. “Yes. Prince Deron is a very brave child.” He mouthed, “What about you?”

  “I’m fine,” Adder answered silently as he held his son tightly to his chest. “The guards say the invaders have the colors of Lakoneh, but they are not riding vultures. They are riding something else.”

  The vulhurs.

  “Let me go to my people and stop this unnecessary madness.” Bracken went to his feet.

  “My King, I wouldn’t advise that. King Bracken may try to escape,” Allu said unapologetically.

  “Are you going to escape, Nightjar?”

  Calling him by their private name was a low blow. Still, it didn’t seem like Adder had done it to guilt him. Perhaps it had been unconscious.

  Bracken negated Allu’s accusation with his head. “I’m bound by honor to you. I won’t try to escape nor betray you. Let’s just end this. Send them back home.”

  Adder spoke to Deron, “Now, brave prince, you’re going to stay here with your guards until King Bracken and I return.”

  “But, Abba,” Deron groaned.

  “You need to stay put, so I can do what I need to do without worrying about you. Is that clear?”

  “Yes, my King.” Deron circled his father’s neck briefly then pushed away. Adder put him on the floor. He moved to sit on the bed by himself; a regal aloofness enveloped him.

  “Come on, Lakon. Let’s take care of your people.”

  Bracken waved good-bye to Deron. He hoped he’d be able to see this awesome child again. They exited the prince’s quarters. The men Adder had brought with him joined them; they jogged to where the ruckus of the chaos seemed loudest.

  The torches illuminating the corridors cast strange shadows on Adder’s blank face. Bracken wanted to ask things, confide things, but they were surrounded by soldiers. There were no wounded or dead in the corridors. It seemed the conflict had remained limited to the courtyards and landing terraces.

  Bracken kept eyeing the giant vases neatly placed along the marble walls with caution, expecting soldiers to jump from them and attack. No one did what Renan was planning (if his suspicions were right) alone. Who knew how many of these men were truly loyal to Adder? How many were Renan’s accomplices just waiting for a second of carelessness to strike down their king? Could they even trust the men guarding Deron?

  Too many unknowns.

  Not even a king could be in two places at once. Bracken needed a sword, a dagger, anything. He was outnumbered if it came to defending Adder from the traitors. They entered a balcony. Below the bloodshed was coming to an end, even the vulhurs stomped upon fallen Munus’s warriors. His people had gained the main courtyard.

  “Sons of Lakoneh,” Bracken shouted, “this is Bracken, Rider of Vultures, your brother.”

  “Our King!” shouted one of the men back.

  “Yeah,” cried all, raising their weapons.

  Bracken was not going to argue semantics with a hundred or so blood-soaked men. “Why are you here? The conflict between Lakoneh and Munus ended at the Furya Plateau. There’s no score to settle here.”

  A tall, broad blond man moved among the others, closer to the balcony. Bracken recognized him instantly, not only because the moon was full, but because it was a body he had enjoyed many times. Phebos, one of Idared’s brothers, shouted, “Lakon, brother of my brother, come down so I can tell you our reasons.” He turned to the men around him and gave instructions quietly. The Lakonian Horn called gravely to signal the end of the fight. Men were dispatched to inform those who could not hear the horn around Gryphonire.

  “We need to go down.” Bracken searched Adder’s eyes.

  “No.” Adder pushed Bracken aside. “You, blond. Choose riders to fly with you and bring your beasts to that terrace over there so you can talk to your King.”

  Phebos looked at Bracken, searching for instructions.

  Bracken nodded. “Do as he says. Bring two men with you.”

  Minutes later, Bracken saw the unsettling way in which the soldiers of Munus and their king regarded the vulhurs. None said a word, but the quick glance exchanges and stony grimaces were expressive enough. Half vulture half horse, the mighty beasts seemed creatures of nightmare compared to the graceful gryphons and bearded vultures. Perhaps the fact that their feathers were so tiny that they looked more like fur added to the overall dark first impression.

  Phebos embraced Bracken. “My King, are you all right?” He kissed Bracken on the lips. Bracken heard a very distinctive cough behind him.

  Bracken pushed Phebos at arm’s length. “I’m well, my friend. A Lightfeet told me Lakoneh was coming for me. He also spoke of trickery.”

  “Yes. The fires on the Royal Granaries last winter were not accidents. We found the culprits. They confessed. People from Munus hired them to betray their nation.”

  “Impossible,” growled Adder. He advanced menacingly toward Phebos. “You lie, you motherless dog-son.”

  “Why would I lie, King of Munus?” Phebos arched an eyebrow. “We have the Munus agents in custody. It took time, but they gave us a way to find the trace we needed. We know the name of the person orchestrating the whole thing. Even the defiling of the bodies on the Vurgeg ships.”

  Deep inside, Bracken was certain it was Renan, but, for Adder’s sake, he hoped he was mistaken.

  “Say the name, and I will find the truth. I swear on Erin and Apheilon,” Adder growled.

  “Your Great Counselor, Renan of Bathos.” Phebos tossed the name like something vile, pestilent.

  “Fuck,” Adder sighed. Bracken put a hand on Adder’s shoulder as Adder added, “He was the one who received your emissaries. I wasn’t in Munus when it happened.”

  So Renan was truly the one behind all this. “I’m sorry, Adder. I know how much he means to you.”

  “The pain of losing my friend, my brother, will go away. His betrayal, never.” Adder turned to one of the soldiers behind him. “Fetch the Great Counselor. Don’t explain anything, just tell him I require his presence.” The soldier nodded with a “yes, my King” and left.

  “Can you trust that man?” Bracken asked quietly.

  “Can I trust anyone?” Adder’s voice sounded more weary than sad.

  Bracken simply squeezed the shoulder when their eyes met.

  “My King,” said Phebos, and both Adder and Bracken turned to look at him. His eyes were daggers aimed at Adder. “You don’t need to honor the King of Munus’s Claiming. It was all trickery. Why should we believe his Great Counselor wasn’t acting on his orders?”

  “He’s right, King Bracken,” Adder agreed. “Your people were starving because someone
burned your granaries. Their hunger brought you to my court and that refusal pushed you to steal the tribute ships. I had to retaliate not just for the stolen ships but for the defiling of the bodies. None of this was fortuitous nor the will of the god and the goddess.”

  Did Adder know that Bracken had risked the waters to reach Cummia and the Oracle had sent his people to seek Munus’s support? Some of this must be the will of the gods if the situation put them together like this. If not, why would the Oracle of Apheilon send Lakoneh to the hands of Munus? Still, this didn’t seem like the moment to argue with Adder, with these men surrounding them.

  Not now that Phebos was there, determined to take Bracken back to Lakoneh, no matter what. He would find a way. After all, they were claiming him as their king. A king had the authority to tell them to go fuck themselves for a while if he thought it fitting, right?

  They stood there in uncomfortable silence for the most part of the next fifteen minutes, the screech-snort of the vulhurs the only thing breaking it now and then.

  A commotion alerted them of the return of the soldier with Renan. Alas, he was alone and out of breath when he reached them. “King Adder, the Great Counselor.” The man heaved, trying hard to breathe. “He and twenty riders rode northwestward.” He was bent with his hands on his thighs.

  Adder turned to Bracken. “Return home, Nightjar. I relinquish you.” He faced his men. “Come with me, we need to find that dog-son traitor.”

  Why did it hurt to hear the words “Nightjar” and “I relinquish you” together? Bracken grabbed Adder’s wrist. “Renan affronted us too. We have a right to his life as much as you do.”

  First, Adder lowered his head to look at the hand on his wrist. Bracken thought Adder was going to jerk it away; they were in front of his men after all. Instead Adder surprised him. He raised his head, their eyes met, and (with an evil grin) Adder said, “Then let’s see who relieves him of that burden first.”