by Rachel White
"We're in the middle of it. It will clear up once we get across the square."
"And when," said Naravi, coolly, "are we going to do that?"
Rallis refused to be baited. "When I'm finished buying what I need."
He expected Naravi to start up again, but Naravi followed him, staying nearby. Every now and then, someone would draw too close to him and he'd hiss or grumble, but Rallis completed his purchases without further complaints. Afterward, he led Naravi toward the edge of the market, relieved to be out of the crush of the crowd.
They paused on the edge of the square. "Do you want to go to a tea shop?" Rallis asked. "We don't have to go back to the motherhouse right away, if you'd rather get out of the sun for a while."
"I don't care," said Naravi, though he obviously wanted to get out of the sun. His eyes kept going toward a shaded bench nearby. When Rallis said, "Let's get tea," he perked up. He thought himself so cold and regal, but Rallis could read him like a book.
The market was held in Merchant's Square, close to the center of the city, and the teashops lined a single long street adjacent to the Square. It was a short walk from the market and could usually be done in a few minutes, but Rallis and Naravi weren't the only ones seeking relief after the blistering heat of the marketplace, and the crowd around them moved slowly. Naravi was growing visibly impatient. On impulse, Rallis ducked left onto a small side street, pulling Naravi with him.
"What are you doing?" Naravi demanded.
"It's a shortcut. It will take forever to get to the teashops otherwise."
Naravi sighed but didn't protest, following him down the street, which was empty and pleasantly cool, lined on both sides by stocky buildings. At the corner, they rounded the curve—
And stopped short. Twenty paces away, a small group of Jevite legionnaires was loitering around a street lamp, talking to one another in bright, loud voices.
Alarm thrummed in Rallis's chest. In an instant, he assessed the situation. He had made a mistake by taking the side street—he had thought it would open back onto the larger road that held the teashops, but it connected to another alley instead. There was no way out except past the legionnaires, for to the south the street came to an abrupt dead end at the back of a building. The area around them was still and there was no one else in sight. One of the Jevites had already noticed them, which meant they couldn't go back the way they had come. And he was with Naravi.
That was the real danger. Alone, Rallis could have walked by the Jevites without too much concern, as long as he kept his head down and his posture respectful, but Naravi complicated things.
The problem was twofold. First, Naravi was very provocative: it came as naturally to him as breathing, and he had no inclination to restrain himself. When he was angry or offended or feeling proud, it was clear to everyone around him, and he was often angry. Jevite legionnaires infuriated him. He would make sure they knew it.
That alone would have been troublesome, but Naravi was also wildly, breathtakingly beautiful, one of the most beautiful people Rallis had ever seen. Eyes followed him wherever he went, and he had been receiving prospective courting gifts and marriage proposals since he was ten years old. His was the kind of beauty that could turn people frenzied and erratic with desire.
If he antagonized Jevite legionnaires who also wanted him, the reaction would be poisonous. Rageful men became far worse when lust was involved.
"Naravi," said Rallis quietly, "walk calmly and don't look at them."
Beside him, Naravi was tense. He hissed, "I know," through his teeth, though he was already looking at the Jevites, disobeying the one order Rallis had given him. And they were looking at him. Nur's heart, this was going to go very badly, Rallis could already tell.
Just as they passed in front of the legionnaires, one of them said, "You not allowed to be here."
Rallis slowed to a halt, Naravi following his lead. The legionnaires had shifted in their positions, no longer casually clustered near one another but all facing forward, presenting a united front. They were all young men, none of them older than perhaps twenty-two, and most of them had focused immediately on Naravi.
"Apologies," said Rallis. "We didn't realize. We're just passing through."
"You pass through," said the Jevite. He indicated Naravi. "That one stay."
Naravi bit with all his teeth. "I'd rather die than stay anywhere near you people," he snarled, stepping half-behind Rallis as he spoke. Rallis couldn't fault him—for all his ferocious venom, he was terrified. He shifted further in front of Naravi, blocking him from their line of sight.
The legionnaires' faces darkened. "What did he say?" the legionnaire demanded of Rallis. "The words—what was he saying?"
"He doesn't want to stay here. We're just passing through. We don't want trouble."
"He claims they're just passing through, but the little Adesi said something nasty," said the legionnaire in Jevite to his comrades. "I don't know what. He spoke too fast."
So only one of the legionnaires spoke any Adesi. No surprise—though most of the Jevite officers had at least passable skill in the language, Rallis didn't think they trained their common soldiers the same way.
"Arrest him, then," said another legionnaire, "and maybe he'll be more friendly in the Red Square."
Rallis's heart beat furiously in his chest. Behind him, Naravi was clutching at his sleeve with trembling fingers. He wasn't very old. He was a boy and scared and still acting like a younger son, hiding and turning his face away.
That was one of the strange conflicts between Jevites and Adesi. Certainly, Rallis had expected tension about land and goods and money, but this was something else entirely. Unlike the Adesi, who prioritized women, Jevites preferred men as their leaders and diplomats. They expected men to be confident, authoritative, commanding. Younger sons—lowest in Adesi society—disgusted them. Jevites views them as docile, gelded cowards under the thumbs of their sisters. They were shameful.
And because they were shameful, hurting younger sons was seen as just punishment for their weakness. Jevites knew that younger sons were lower in status, knew that most Adesi wouldn't react nearly as badly to a crime done against a younger son as they would to a crime against a daughter or an elder son in the role of House Hand, so there was nothing to keep them from venting all of their ire and rage against younger sons, many of whom were naïve and sheltered, unused to navigating peril. While Naravi may not have been as sheltered as all that, in the eyes of the Jevites he was unmistakably a younger son, beautiful and submissive and subordinate. That meant he was a plaything. Prey.
"My name is Rallis Yy of House Yy," said Rallis. "This is Naravi Yy, future Hand of House Yy. We're trying to go home. Unless we've done something illegal, you have no cause to detain us. Please let us pass."
"He says that one's Hand of their House," the Adesi-speaking legionnaire reported.
The mention of Naravi's status troubled them; though they didn't seem to entirely believe him, they were obviously weighing whether it was worth the risk that he was being truthful. Since the massacre, many Jevites had been respectful of Adesi House statuses—perhaps wanting, in some grotesque way, to make up for what they had done. A part of Rallis thought to tell Naravi to show his House ring as proof, but that didn't guarantee anything, and the less Naravi moved, he felt, the better.
Thankfully, it didn't seem to be necessary. By some unspoken communion, the Jevites moved out of the road. For a moment Rallis was sure the moment would pass without further trouble. He walked forward, Naravi at his side—
But as Naravi stepped in front of them, the foremost legionnaire, the one who spoke some Adesi, reached out and touched his arm. It was a light brush, almost reverential, like that of a silk merchant admiring a fine bolt of cloth, but Naravi whirled to face him. "Touch me again, you worthless Jevve waste, and I'll gut you."
The legionnaire understood that. Perhaps not all of it, but he understood Naravi's tone, and Rallis knew he understood Jevve.
"What's going on?"
The voice made the legionnaires jump and straighten where they stood. It made Rallis start too, for he recognized it, that unmistakable soft tenor. Lieutenant Taarq was framed in the doorway of the building behind them, his face dark and his eyes flashing. He must have heard the shouting. Without waiting for a response, he strode down the steps toward Naravi and the legionnaire, who released Naravi's wrist immediately.
"I asked what was going on," Lieutenant Taarq snapped. "Explain at once."
"He—the Adesi called me Jevve, sir. He was disrespectful. So was the other one."
Naravi, who had scurried behind Rallis as soon as he was free, seized Rallis's arm in a bruising grip. "What are they saying?" he hissed in Rallis's ear, but Rallis shook his head.
Lieutenant Taarq's eyes were locked on the legionnaire's face. "What happened?"
"They spoke to me disrespectfully, sir."
"Who spoke first?"
A pause. The legionnaire glanced quickly over his shoulder. Seeing that he would get no help from the others, he said, haltingly, "I did, Lieutenant."
"Why?"
"They were walking here, sir. It's not allowed."
Lieutenant Taarq glanced down the road. "I don't see why not," he said coolly. "It's not a protected area."
"But this is a garrison…"
"Adesi are allowed to walk by the garrisons. Or am I mistaken?"
He wasn't, and they all knew it. "No, sir," the legionnaire mumbled.
"He touched me," Naravi snarled. "He touched my arm."
"He says you touched him. Is this true?"
"Yes, sir."
"Why?"
The legionnaire was in agony. "I was just trying to keep him from leaving, Lieutenant, I didn't mean—"
"You're not permitted to touch Adesi citizens," said Lieutenant Taarq. "And they won't insult you if you don't stop them needlessly when they're trying to go about their lives. Your behavior disgraces your unit and your commanding officer. Consider this an infraction. All of you, go inside, now."
The legionnaire winced. His comrades looked relieved. As they trickled away, Lieutenant Taarq turned to Rallis.
"Are you all right? I'm sorry about that."
"We're fine."
Lieutenant Taarq's gaze went to Naravi, and Rallis waited for the desire that would flare hot in his eyes, the hunger, the consideration, but Lieutenant Taarq said only, "Are you all right? You said he grabbed you—do you need treatment?"
Naravi made a contemptuous noise in his throat and turned away. "He's all right," Rallis assured Lieutenant Taarq. "He wasn't hurt. Just shaken."
"Let's go," said Naravi sharply. "I want to go home."
"Would you like me to escort you back?"
"It's all right." In truth, Rallis wouldn't have minded an escort, but Naravi's posture made it clear that he was moments from breaking down completely. "We'll be fine. Thank you."
Lieutenant Taarq bowed. "I apologize again for that. There will be consequences for them."
"Thank you."
"I'm going." Naravi strode down the street, leaving Rallis to hastily bid Lieutenant Taarq farewell and catch up to him.
At the motherhouse, Naravi immediately went to the sleeping chamber, and Rallis let him go. After what had happened, he deserved some time to himself—and Rallis knew it could have been much worse. If not for Lieutenant Taarq—he cut off the thought.
They were safe. That was what mattered. As for Lieutenant Taarq… Rallis still needed to figure that out.
*~*~*
It took Rallis three days to gather the nerve to return to the north garrison, though he had decided what he was going to do by the end of the first day. It was somewhat inevitable. But resolution was different than courage, so it was Athaday before he actually managed to make feet take him there
A legionnaire behind a desk glanced up at him as he entered the reception hall. "What do you need, citizen?" he asked in Adesi.
"I'm here to see Lieutenant Taarq."
The legionnaire's brow furrowed. He was dressed in a standard Jevite uniform with green edgings. Lieutenant Taarq's uniform had green edgings too, which probably meant they were part of the same company. "Do you have an appointment?" he asked.
"No. I didn't know I should make one."
"He's a busy man." The legionnaire rose from his desk. "I can't guarantee he's available, but I'll see. Wait here."
So Rallis did, and after a few moments the legionnaire returned, looking more dubious than ever. "He says he'll speak with you." He indicated the hallway he had just returned from, the hallway that contained Lieutenant Taarq's office. "This way."
At Lieutenant Taarq's door, the legionnaire knocked. "The Adesi citizen is here, sir," he said through the door.
"Come in."
"You can go in." The legionnaire stepped back and watched intently as Rallis, antsy under the attention, turned the handle and carefully opened the door. Lieutenant Taarq was at his desk, surrounded by paper and busy tapping something on a mechanical calculator.
"Lieutenant Taarq," said Rallis softly.
Lieutenant Taarq looked up and true emotions crossed his face, just for a moment, as surprise broke his composure: astonishment and confusion and beneath that, a kind of tentative hope that made Rallis's hair stand on end.
Then he regained his poise and rose, smiling pleasantly. "Citizen Yy. I wasn't expecting you."
"Should I have made an appointment?"
"Ah, no, it's—it's fine. Please come in. That will be all, thank you," he added to the legionnaire, who finally left off his dubious squinting and departed.
Rallis entered the room and took the seat across the desk. "Are you busy? I can come back…"
"I'm not busy." When Rallis's eyes went to the mechanical calculator, Lieutenant Taarq quickly set it on the floor. "What's this about? Have you been having issues since the other day?"
"No. I… I wanted to thank you for what you did. I appreciate it."
"Of course," said Lieutenant Taarq. His face darkened. "Behavior like that isn't acceptable. Their officers should have trained them better. I've spoken to the captain in charge of that company."
"Oh. Thank you."
Lieutenant Taarq inclined his head. "It's nothing."
"You wanted a khas partner," said Rallis quickly, before his tongue could lose its nerve. "I'll play khas with you. If you still want."
Nur's heart, the expression on Lieutenant Taarq's face was baffling. His joy was as sincere and unshadowed as a boy's. Who was he? Where had he come from, to smile so easily at his enemy? Rallis couldn't imagine it.
"Yes," said Lieutenant Taarq. "I would—that would be wonderful. As long as it's not an imposition. I'm not very good at the game, but I enjoy it, and I don't know anyone who can play. I've been looking for a partner since I arrived."
"I can play it with you. It's not an imposition."
"Then yes, I would greatly like to have you as my partner," Lieutenant Taarq murmured. "Do you have time for a game now? If not, perhaps an evening this week…?"
"I have time now, if you do."
Lieutenant Taarq laughed. "I can make time," he said. Rallis waited as he fetched the board and set it on the desk, laying out the unnae beside it. "Though, if we're to be partners, I'm afraid you'll have to have a lot of patience with me. You're really very remarkable."
"It's all right." Rallis began to set up the board. The dread that had plagued him throughout the first game had vanished, but he didn't have words to describe the emotions that had taken its place. "I can teach you."
The look that flashed in Lieutenant Taarq's eyes in response—the bright hunger of someone anticipating a challenge—made som
ething twist uncomfortably in Rallis's stomach. He told himself it was only a response to the thrill of the game but knew even as he thought it that he was lying.
Chapter Four
They fell into an easy pattern. At first, Rallis had intended to meet Lieutenant Taarq as little as possible, but quickly found himself looking forward to their time together. Though Jevites still made him uncomfortable when he passed them on the street or encountered them in taverns or bayars, Lieutenant Taarq was different. He was gentler and more thoughtful than most Jevites, with a calm, patient temperament that put Rallis immediately at ease, and he seemed to sincerely appreciate Rallis's expertise. When he lost, he listened carefully to Rallis's suggestions instead of growing angry or frustrated as Rallis had initially feared he would.
It was nice too, to play the game again. Rallis hadn't had a true khas opponent since his father's passing nearly a decade prior, and though he had played occasional matches in bayars or salons, it wasn't the same. Lieutenant Taarq wasn't at his level, and their knowledge of the rules sometimes conflicted when the Jevite version and the Adesi version of the game diverged, but even so, it was more than he had had in years.
"The problem isn't that you don't know what you're doing," said Rallis one evening, looking over the results of their latest khas game. "It's that you doubt yourself."
They were once again in Lieutenant Taarq's office, meeting after his duties had finished for the day. The sky through the small window was deep blue, dotted with stars. In one corner, an especially large and radiant star was one of the citadels floating miles above Adesa.
Lieutenant Taarq was peering intently at the scattered unnae. "Doubt myself?" he murmured without looking up.
"Here, for example." Rallis indicated one corner of the board, where Lieutenant Taarq had begun to craft a serviceable offense, only to lose his nerve and abandon the entire area to Rallis. "You played rhagen galir tas, which was good. If you had continued to focus on this area, you could have built out into rhagen karus, or even galir karus tas. But after a few turns, you began to think that you were playing too offensively and moved to a different area of the board, where I had already established myself. That meant you were deep in my territory but had almost no territory of your own. If you had stayed on the offense here, you could have built out your own territory more and been in a better position to weaken my hold here and here."