Nightjar

by Gabbo De la Parra

  In spite of himself, he chuckled. People said they looked a lot alike when they glared. “Careful, little sister, you might soil your chiton with such words spilling from your pretty mouth.”

  “Something happened to you in Munus, and I’m not talking about being a Kept, or the attack, or the treachery of that dog-son Renan of Bathos. I’m talking about your heart. Lakonian women can be as hard as their men, but we know matters of the heart when we see them. The sadness I see in your eyes comes from a heart that has been denied. But that’s your deed, coming from a stubborn and misguided sense of duty.”

  “Matters of the heart are two-way paths. They cannot be one-sided,” he offered with a grimace.

  “And you have proof that it is one-sided?” She arched an eyebrow.

  Bracken shrugged.

  “Sweet Erin. You men are so dumb. You can face armies and draw blood like farts, but are incapable of handling the simplest things.” She rolled her eyes. “Did you ask?”

  “It doesn’t matter now.”

  “So you’re ready to live with a broken heart because you didn’t have the courage to ask a question?”

  “Tread carefully, Laelia. Do not dare to call the Lakon a coward.”

  “Then don’t act like one,” she huffed. “Find a way to ask the stupid question and then live with those consequences, not the ones you made up in your mind!” She turned around, threw herself onto her seat, and accepted her needlework from one of the other ladies.

  That went well.

  Still, his sister’s words haunted him for many days afterward, effectively mining the decisions he had made on his own. Nights were the worst because the silence of his chamber was a sharp knife. Bracken couldn’t believe he missed Adder’s creepy-sounding little birds.

  Fuck. I even miss him whispering Nightjar in my ear as he stroked me, as he fingered me, as he made me his with patient determination.

  Was it wrong that this Nightjar missed its cage, even if it was a cage made of sweet words and caresses, of lips and murmurs, of skin and wonder? Was it love that kept squeezing Bracken’s heart and turning him inside out?

  Idared hadn’t helped matters either with this nugget of wisdom, “Where is it written that you cannot be a man in love and a good king at the same time? Didn’t your father love your mother until his last breath, even if she went to Erin’s bosom before him?”

  Yes, Bracken was in love with Adder. Learning that Adder had given his blood in The Rite to save Bracken’s life had sealed that wretched fate. How could he not love the man who had sacrificed the length of his life to give Bracken another chance at living? Had Adder done this hoping that they could be together? Was Bracken truly living if he denied himself happiness?

  What if?

  No. Lakonians didn’t dwell in “ifs.” When they heard the music, they’d face it and dance. Right now the Lakon was avoiding the music, not even tapping a foot. There was only one thing to do to stop this destructive pain.

  The next morning, with the first rays of the rising sun, Bracken mounted Rampant, his vulhur, and rode west, surrounded by six Royal Guards, toward the Gate, the beach facing the Oracle of Apheilon at Cummia. He would not ride another vulture after the death of Silvercall, but the men with him flew on the magnificent birds as it was the custom. Vulhurs had been created for war. Perhaps for Bracken this was a battle of sorts.

  The first hour of the two-hour flight from Nakohel to the Gate passed without incident when they encountered a vulture rider coming in the opposite direction. It was a messenger from the garrison near the Gate.

  All descended. The messenger dismounted and came to him. He bowed. “My King, we have spotted gryphon riders at the Gate. I was on my way to alert the palace of the situation.”

  “How many?” Bracken asked.

  “Seven, sire,” the rider answered. “The garrison moved men to the shore to avoid any confrontation between the men of Munus and any other people seeking the Oracle.”

  “All right. Continue your journey. Inform General Idared that you saw me. My destination is the Gate, so I will deal with the situation there.”

  Bracken and his men gained the sky. The vultures and Rampant did the remaining distance of the flight in thirty minutes.

  They alighted on the beach, not far from the gryphon riders. Bracken recognized Adroit instantly. Selleck was also among the Munus men.

  “This is an unexpected surprise, King Bracken,” Selleck said as he walked toward Bracken, opening his arms to embrace him.

  The vulture riders surrounded Bracken in a blink. He told them to stand back and hugged his former personal aide. “What is this? Why is Adroit here?”

  Selleck held Bracken at arm’s length. “King Adder came to seek the wisdom of the Oracle.”

  Could it be possible that they came to the same conclusion?

  “When did he go?”

  “With the first light.”

  A good, strong swimmer would take almost forty-five minutes to reach the jagged shores of Cummia, if the sharks didn’t make a feast first. The legend said that those seeking the wisdom of the Oracle with true faith in their hearts were protected against the ferocious predators. They had swum, circling Bracken for a while when he braved the waters, so he had to believe that the legend was true. There were very few other explanations.

  Selleck and Bracken walked to the gryphon riders. The men bowed, recognizing him. Bracken nodded. “Brothers of Munus, let’s break fast and wait for your king.” Both groups of riders cheered. As the soldiers distributed food and drinks, Bracken went to Adroit. He petted the great head with expressive, golden eyes. “I hope your master has the same question I have.”

  Adroit purred almost in affirmation.

  After eating, Selleck and Bracken sat on the sand away from the others. “Deron has been asking about you unstoppably. He’s convinced that you’re coming back because you are his emissary regarding his toy sword,” Selleck commented casually.

  Bracken had forgotten all about that.

  “I know you aren’t my aide anymore, but please remind me to broach that subject as soon as we see Adder.”

  “Of course.” Selleck stared at him for a long moment. “There’s no law saying you cannot visit. You know that, right?”

  “It’s complicated.”

  Selleck shook his head. “I just hope you two get the answer you need from the Oracle and be done with it already.”

  “I really hate cheeky aides.”

  A shrug was Selleck’s silent response.

  When the sun found its zenith, Bracken started to worry. He started to pace the shore looking for any signal of someone swimming back from Cummia. One rider from Munus and another from Lakoneh played noughts and crosses on the sand a bit away from where Bracken paced; suddenly, one of them yelled, “I see something!”

  Bracken used his hand like a visor to protect his eyes from the blinding winter sun and inspected the glittering waters, trying to find that something the rider had seen. He found it. It was a dark-haired man, swimming with great effort.

  Now they only had to wait for the man to gain the shore on his own or they would botch the man’s effort for the Oracle. All the riders moved to the shore and cheered, encouraging the man.

  It’s he.

  Bracken was the first to reach him as Adder crawled on the sand away from the waves. They embraced, both on their knees. Bracken didn’t have words; he only squeezed Adder silently.

  Adder coughed and pushed Bracken away a little. “Blessed be Erin and Apheilon. I went to Cummia for an answer, and before the end of the day, the gods have granted me a wish.”

  ****

  Chapter Sixteen

  Equality

  Adroit hadn’t been happy, flying beside them, as Adder rode with his Nightjar on Rampant. A gryphon would follow your orders, but you could see the “under protest” fire in their eyes when they did not agree with those orders. But Adder was too tired after the swim to steer and it felt too right to be in Nightjar’s embrac
e to let the opportunity pass. He’d make it up to Adroit later.

  Alas, contrary to what Adder had hoped, Nightjar had left other people in charge of him upon their arrival at the palace in Nakohel. He had excused himself saying that he wanted to organize a feast to welcome Adder properly to Lakoneh, for his people to know that there was no animosity left between the two kingdoms.

  “Will it be all right with you if I send Selleck to fetch Deron? I miss him and want him here with us for the feast,” Nightjar said with a brilliant smile that reached his eyes and made them sparkle.

  “Of course. He misses you too, a lot.”

  “Thank you.”

  Now Adder held Deron’s hand as they walked into Nightjar’s Great Hall. Deron had arrived an hour earlier with whirlwind excitement. Good thing Adder had many hours to rest from his visit to the Oracle of Apheilon— where he’d gotten his answer. All that was left was to put that answer into practice.

  Three long tables occupied the central space of the large room. People milled around them but none were seated. Two of the tables were parallel to each other while the third stood opposite the entrance, its ends perpendicular to the other two. Torches illuminated the marble walls, casting wavering shadows on the swirling columns and the richly dressed, moving people.

  The animated noise of the gathering silenced as Adder and Deron entered. Adder found the cloudless-sky eyes immediately. The King of Lakoneh looked magnificent wearing the colors of his land, his tunic midnight blue, and his overtunic a silvery fabric that enhanced his deliciously tanned skin.

  “Adder, King of Munus, Beloved of Erin, Master of Gryphons.” Nightjar made a pause. “And my friend, Prince Deron of Munus, welcome to my house. Welcome to Lakoneh.” He spread his arms and went to embrace them; first Adder in an almost formal way but with a wink as they separated. Then he let Deron jump into his hug and squeeze him with fervor.

  “I’m so happy to see you! I thought you forgot about me!” Deron burst in his usual exuberant way.

  “Never. I’m your emissary, remember?” Nightjar chuckled.

  What was this emissary thing? Adder had heard about it before in conversations between Selleck and Deron, but he had no clue as to the meaning of it. Why would a king be the emissary of a child?

  “Come on, Adder. Let me introduce you to my family.” Nightjar extended his hand and moved, carrying Deron in his arms.

  A svelte mostly ethereal version of Nightjar in a silky pink dress skillfully draped about her stood beside a tall, square-shouldered blond man that had a slight resemblance to Phebos, who Adder hated no more after his valiant crash against Renan in the middle of the battle of the Cerbera Forest. These two must be Laelia and General Idared, sister and brother-in-law of Nightjar. Between them, a young man, technically still a boy but almost as tall as his mother (who wasn’t really a short woman) with blond hair and those colorless eyes like his uncle in high contrast with the brown but beautiful eyes of his father. Fern, Nightjar’s heir.

  After the introductions were made, Nightjar called for the feast to start. Adder was surprised when he saw a chair in the place reserved for the King’s consort. Custom dictated for that space to be empty since Bracken of Lakoneh was unmarried. Adder himself had broken the custom by seating Nightjar in that prominent place in his own Great Hall, but it had been to give the Lakon a hint of his intentions. Could it be possible that this was the same case?

  Nightjar looked at the high-backed chair and then at Adder. “I’m repaying your kindness. Be happy that I didn’t dress you all in white like a blushing bride.” He grinned inscrutably.

  Just that, the payment of a supposed debt?

  Adder wasn’t sure of what to say or worse what to think. He sat with a grimace and drank the first goblet of wine in one gulp, a servant quickly refilling it. He glanced about the tables and found Deron smiling and talking to Fern. His son wasn’t sitting on a child’s chair but one with longer legs so he would be at the same level with his fellow diners. Surely it was a chair that had been created when Prince Fern was little, but it touched something inside Adder that Nightjar had thought to bring it to the table for Deron.

  “Is Munus in trouble?” asked Laelia without preamble. She sat beside him, and had been graceful enough to let him put some food inside him before dumping that seemingly random question on him.

  Out of sorts since the beginning of the feast, Adder had been caught unawares but had enough control to not flinch or show any other outer sign of discomfort. “Not at all, my dear Laelia. What would make you think so?”

  “Then you went to the Oracle of Apheilon to ask about my brother.” It was a plain statement not a question.

  “Yes.”

  “Good. Don’t take forever to do whatever needs to be done. No matter if it’s good or bad.” She fluttered her long dark lashes. To anyone observing she was telling him some girly anecdote. “Bracken told me what you said to him at the shore.”

  So she was his confidant. “I love your brother,” he offered honestly.

  “Well, don’t tell me, tell him.” Laelia waved her hand dismissively. “He seems to think that love is impossible between you two.” She smiled coquettishly. “I’d slap him out of it, but that’s not my place.”

  Just by the grace of Erin, Adder didn’t sputter wine and lamb at her words. He just coughed. Nightjar stopped the conversation he was having with Idared at his left and asked, “Are you all right?”

  Adder only nodded.

  Nightjar stared at him quizzically for a moment, then returned to his conversation with his general. Laelia had turned to the other side. Engrossed with another lady in an enthusiastic exchange, she now seemed determined to ignore Adder.

  The feast was not an extended affair. The Lakonian were famous for their brevity. After all, that was what Nightjar’s first title meant. He was the Lakon, the first among his people— and succinct in words and actions.

  Soon, Nightjar and Adder were saying their “good nights” to Deron and leaving him surrounded by Allu and his men.

  “Let me show you to your sleeping quarters.” Nightjar pointed forward.

  Shit. It seems like I’m not going to sleep with him.

  “Don’t bother. I know how to return to the chambers where I rested and changed,” Adder offered, trying to sound neutral instead of disappointed and miffed.

  “I’m giving you different accommodations for the night.”

  “Oh.” Adder didn’t know what else to say.

  “Would you like me to arrange some entertainment for you?”

  The Lakon’s businesslike tone was frankly infuriating.

  “Are you kidding me? Why would I want any other person than you?”

  Nightjar stared at him, astonished. “I didn’t…”

  “You didn’t what?!” Adder threw his hands in the air, not caring about the guards surrounding them. “Stop playing mind games with me!”

  “Do I look like I’m playing?” Nightjar glared, and his voice was dangerously low.

  “Where are you sending me to sleep, a fucking dungeon?”

  “My chambers.”

  “Oh.” Adder froze on the spot. “I’m an idiot.”

  “Your words…”

  That did it. Adder grabbed Nightjar by the shoulders and smashed him against a nearby wall. The guards around them were from both kingdoms. He saw their hesitation for a heartbeat, but before they could react, Nightjar put his hand up, letting his men know he was all right.

  “I hate that you do this to me,” Adder growled.

  “What am I doing? Tell me,” Nightjar hissed, peering at Adder’s face.

  “You confuse me. You make me crazy. I lose control.”

  “You’ve never lost control around me.”

  “Not when you’re in my arms. It’s when I don’t have you, when I cannot see you,” Adder frustratingly confessed.

  Nightjar swallowed hard and insanely audibly. It seemed like all the men around them were holding their breath. “I think it’s best
to continue this conversation privately.” He tried to shrug Adder off.

  This made Adder realize how much force he was putting into restraining Nightjar. He released him and started to straighten Nightjar’s overtunic. Nightjar let him, his hand resting on the wall as if he was summoning the strength to push himself off it. “I’m really sorry,” Adder said quietly.

  The Lakon only nodded.

  They did the rest of the walk to Nightjar’s quarters in silence. Even the steps of their guards seemed muffled and hesitant.

  The Oracle had told him that to be together they had to be equals.

  And Adder was botching the path to equality grandly.

  ****

  Chapter Seventeen

  Knowledge

  As soon as the doors closed, Bracken grabbed Adder by the jaw and pushed him against the wall. “You’re in my fucking kingdom. Never do something like that in front of my people again. You can manhandle me all you want when we’re alone.” He kissed the startled Adder like there was no tomorrow.

  By pressing it over his chest, Bracken’s hand kept Adder flush against the wall; the other stroked an increasingly growing cock under rich fabrics. Bracken couldn’t have known that Adder dressed in all the colors of the sunset would be such a massive turn on; he would have skipped the feast altogether for his own benefit.

  Finally, he had this man, his torment and redemption, facing him— inescapable. Bracken didn’t want words, but there had to be some.

  Sentiments are the ruin of men of action.

  And yet without them, true kings could not rule; true men could not live. Bracken stopped his assault on Adder’s upper and lower fronts.

  “I’m yours. Marry me,” Adder said breathless, panting.

  Why did life have to be so complicated? Why couldn’t they just be two riders who met in a dark tavern?

  “Kings don’t marry other kings,” Bracken summarized.

  “Why not?” The flame in Adder’s eyes was a reminder of what Bracken saw on the deck of an enemy ship a long ago day. It was enhanced, more disturbing, but still the same blaze as when their foreheads touched after The Claiming.