“Beautiful,” Talamir finally said.
“Thank you.” Subikahn slammed his sword back into its sheath. “Now what did you think of my svergelse?”
Talamir laughed. “You did a fine job, Kahn. You’ll definitely pass.”
“You’re sure?” Though he knew he had performed well for several months now, Subikahn still worried about his manhood testing.
“No doubt. They’ll pass you.”
A man. The words sounded wonderful from the mouth of one who would certainly know. “You’re not just saying that because—”
Talamir interrupted, his tone gaining a note of irritation, “I would never say something that important just to please anyone. You know that.”
“Of course. I’m sorry.” Subikahn could not stop grinning. “I didn’t mean to impugn your character. I’m just so excited.” Suddenly seized by the desire to share, he raced toward the gate. “Let’s tell my papa. Everything.”
“Everything?”Talamir scurried after his student. “Subikahn, wait. What exactly do you mean by everything?”
“I mean everything.” Subikahn tripped the latch and yanked on the heavy portal. “He’s a wonderful man who deserves to share my every delight. The most understanding father in the world will find joy in whatever makes me happy.”
“I’m not so sure,” Talamir said, his soft reply lost beneath the squeal of massive hinges. Closing his eyes, he followed Subikahn into the castle.
Sunlight glinted from bits of quartz and mica in the mortared stone construction of Stalmize Castle. King Tae Kahn clung like a spider to the courtyard wall, directly below the library window. Above him, his constant feline companion, Imorelda, watched him through the window, tail twitching daintily, her paws tucked calmly beneath her. *You have a visitor,* she said in the mental voice only he could hear.
*Who’s there?* he sent back.
*Not here. Down there.* The silver tabby glanced past him to the ground, five stories below.
Tae followed the animal’s gaze to a plump maid arranging blankets on the ground beneath him. Alneezah. He knew her at once, from her actions alone, and he could not help smiling. The servants had grown used to their king’s strange antics. The son of a crime lord who had survived his youth by his wits, quickness, and wiles, he suffered from a restless need to know the location of every exit and to practice using them on a daily basis.
Tae’s guards and butlers had requested the right to cushion the entire base of the castle, in case their king lost rooftop footing or a grip on a window, niche, or ledge. Afraid to lose his edge, Tae had dismissed their requests as unnecessary. Still, Alneezah always found an excuse to keep Tae safer. She also knew Imorelda’s favorite treats and somehow always had them on hand for chance meetings in the corridors.
“What are you doing down there?” Tae called to the maid.
Alneezah did not bother to look up, though she did grant the king a respectful curtsy. Tae hated formality, but his advisers assured him of the necessity. Without it, they told him, he could not command the respect required to run a single country, let alone the entire Eastlands. “I’m airing out some quilts,Your Majesty.”
“In the central courtyard?”
“Yes, Sire.”
“On the ground?”
Alneezah finally glanced up. Though not traditionally beautiful, her features were becoming in their own way. Shiny black hair fell in waves past her shoulders, hiding her ears, and bangs eclipsed her gentle, brown eyes. The pink circles of her cheeks gave her a look of constant coyness, and her small nose seemed to disappear above full, heart-shaped lips. “Yes, Sire. On the ground.”
“Directly beneath my dirty feet.”
Alneezah bit back a smile. “Oh, I hope they’re not dirty, Your Majesty. Some dignitary may wish to kiss them.”
Caught off guard by the unabashed banter, Tae had no retort.
*She’s good.You should marry her.*
Tae felt his cheeks warm. When Kevral had chosen Ra-khir as her husband, she had devastated Tae. It was not that he had expected anything different. At that time, Ra-khir had everything he did not: striking good looks, impeccable honor, and a romanticism Tae could only watch and envy. Also, Ra-khir had just single-handedly gone to war against the entire country of Pudar to win Kevral back from their custody. Since then, Tae had devoted himself entirely to their son and never considered courting another woman.
Not that Tae had had no opportunities. The lesser kings of many countries had offered their daughters to him, and nearly every unattached woman in his own kingdom batted her eyes and giggled around him. He had a trove of barren concubines who happily shared his bed to satisfy their urges as well as his own. But, his deep love, and most of his attention went solely to his son; and only Imorelda consumed as much of his time. He had brought the boy into the world and swore to any gods that might exist that he would do a far better job raising Subikahn than his father had done with Tae.
Tae reached for any excuse to silence the cat. *Alneezah? She’s too young for me.*
*She’s nearly thirty. You’re thirty-seven.* Imorelda rose casually to poke her furry head out the window. Shed hairs swirled through the sunbeams, making her appear to grow an unearthly halo. *Close enough.*
Tae ignored the animal to call down to the maid again. “You don’t need to protect me, you know.” His toes wedged into comfortable ledges in the mortar, and his fingers looped around irregularities in the stone.
Alneezah continued spreading blankets as if Tae had never interrupted. “Who said anything about protecting you,Your Majesty? You have two competent guard forces for that.”
It was true. In addition to the main army, his father commanded an elite group of men. Organized criminals, they penetrated every area of the world with ease and acted on information with a swift efficiency the guards would not dare to emulate. Though no one other than Tae knew it, Imorelda acted as a third line of defense. Only four other people in the world would even believe he could communicate with a cat. Queen Matrinka had had a similar relationship with Imorelda’s mother, Mior, and only Darris, Kevral, and Ra-khir knew about it. All three of them, as well as Tae, had needed serious convincing despite trusting Matrinka implicitly. Eventually, Tae’s uncanny knack for languages had allowed him to communicate with Mior also and, later, with the kitten she had gifted to him. Few humans seemed able to resist Imorelda’s charm, and they all spoke openly in her presence.
*She’s cagey and cheeky. Qualities I adore.*
*Then you marry her.* Tae shifted fingers that had begun to cramp. *Most humans look upon those as character flaws, not qualities.*
*Most humans wouldn’t know quality if it scratched their eyes out and batted them around the floor.*
*An interesting turn of phrase.*
Imorelda sat on the window seat and licked one gray paw. *Yes, isn’t it? I made it up myself.*
*I would never have guessed.*
Imorelda stopped her bath suddenly, and her head disappeared from the window. *Subikahn’s here.* Her face returned, her little black nose crinkled. *And that yellow-furred one who always smells like metal and oil.*
By “yellow,” Tae knew she meant blond. She always identified humans by the color of their hair, which she interchangeably referred to as “manes” or “fur.” *You mean the Renshai.Talamir?*
*Yes, that one.They’re looking for you.*
Tae skittered back up the wall to the window ledge.
Imorelda yawned and stretched before moseying out of Tae’s way and allowing him to duck inside.
“Ah, there you are, Papa.” Subikahn showed no surprise at finding the king of Stalmize dangling out of a tower window. His thin black hair was disheveled, like his father’s always was, his cheeks still pinkish from exertion. His olive skin always seemed darker in the presence of his pale Renshai torke. Subikahn’s lips held a smile that seemed permanently glued there, while the Renshai looked more nervous than excited. He shifted from foot to foot, his hands hovering above his s
words. He would not touch a weapon in the king’s presence, but he seemed incapable of putting his hands calmly at his sides.
Tae spun toward them on the window seat, preparing to dismount; but Imorelda stomped into his lap before he could drop his feet to the floor. Effectively trapped, he sat. “Hello, Subikahn.” He nodded toward the other Renshai, “Talamir.”
“Your Majesty,” Talamir executed an awkward bow. “Thank you for seeing us without notice.”
It seemed a strange statement. Tae had never denied either of them audience, any time or anywhere, in the past. “Well, I could hardly have declined, could I? I simply entered the room, and there you were.”
Talamir bowed several more times. “I’m sorry, Sire. Were we disturbing you, Sire? We can come back later, S—”
Subikahn seized his teacher’s arm. “He’s kidding, Tally.” He turned Tae a pleading look. “Papa, tell him you’re kidding.”
“I’m kidding,” Tae admitted, petting the cat hand over hand, until tiny hairs danced through the sunlight. She had a circular pattern of black stripes against a grizzly silver-gray and only one spot of white, at the very tip of her tail. “What can I do for the two of you?”
Subikahn looked like he might burst. “Talamir says I’ll definitely pass my testing. When I return from the Fields of Wrath next time, I’ll be a man!”
A wave of excitement passed through Tae, and he could not help grinning. The testing of the Renshai meant little to him, but it would make his son, and Kevral, happy. Nothing else mattered. “That’s great news! On your return, we’ll have to celebrate.” A strange idea came to him suddenly. His advisers had bothered him for years about hosting a dance or massive party, a way to interact with lesser royalty and get to know them better. He was already popular with the peasantry, who saw the king as one of them. He often came across as shockingly down to earth. He kept their taxes low and allowed those with more experience and intelligence to make judgments and preside over his court.
The nobility, however, remained suspicious of the family who appeared to have no history before wresting power from the previous king of Stalmize, even nearly twenty years later. Tae suspected his advisers also hoped he would finally find a queen when he became lost in the romanticism of the event. “Perhaps a ball? We’ve never had one of those before.”
Subikahn’s smile seemed to encompass his entire face. “Thanks, Papa. That would be wonderful.” He turned an adoring look upon his swordmaster.
Talamir remained stonily silent.
Imorelda butted Tae’s hand with her head, and he scratched around her cheeks and ears. He could not imagine a more perfect moment: his only son deliriously happy and his cat purring mightily in his lap.
“Papa, there’s more.”
Still grinning, Tae inclined his head toward Subikahn to encourage him to continue.
Talamir closed his eyes and lowered his head.
“Papa,” Subikahn blurted, his words nearly tumbling over one another. “I’m in love.”
Though he did not stop grinning, Tae sucked in the sides of his mouth. Amused by the admission, he continued to stroke the cat. He had waited a long time for his son’s first crush, glad the boy trusted him enough to share it. “Really? Who is she?”
“I’ve fallen for a Renshai, Papa. Just like you.”
Just like me. Tae’s grin wilted, and he shrugged. “I wouldn’t wish my love life on anyone, Subikahn. Especially you.” So it happened on Kevral’s watch. He wondered why she had not mentioned it, or if she had been too busy training to even notice. Her intense and one-sided devotion to sword work might make her oblivious, even to her son’s distraction. He wondered if she truly loved her children as much as her swords, her husband as much as her devotion to the Renshai techniques that made them the best swordsmen in the world.
Tae found himself shivering, filled with a sense of foreboding, and wondered why. It would fall to his long-suffering and able advisers to get the populace to accept a Renshai princess. If Subikahn had waited this long to mention her, he could not miss her too much, which meant their relationship could not have gotten serious yet.
Subikahn’s excitement, however, told a different story. It was fresh and strong, beyond the level of a budding crush. In his excitement, he seized his torke’s hand.
“So,” Tae continued carefully. “When do I get to meet her?”
Subikahn laughed with the wild abandon of someone so madly in love it springs forth from every pore. Though playful at times, the young prince rarely became so giddy he could not contain himself. This time, the words practically spilled from his mouth. “You know my lover, Papa. Very well. It’s . . .” He squeezed his teacher’s hand. “It’s Talamir.”
Few things could have surprised Tae more. He sat in stunned silence, his hand stilling on the cat, his expression exposed. Unbidden thoughts jolted into his mind, among them the dire realization that his son had just blithely confessed to a capital crime.
For several moments, no one moved or spoke. Then, cautiously, Talamir freed his hand from Subikahn’s, apparently anticipating a fight. Any difficult situation sent a Renshai to his sword.
Subikahn finally broke the hush. “I’ve found true love, Papa. True love! Aren’t you . . . happy for me?”
*What’s wrong?* Imorelda stopped purring.
For once, Tae ignored her. “But . . . he’s a . . .”
“. . . Renshai?” Subikahn finished.
“. . . man,” Tae corrected. “Talamir’s a man.” He turned his son a confused look. “Right?” He wondered if he had missed something. Renshai women worked so hard, they often developed musculature in ways other females never did. Hard arms and thighs, tight abdominal musculature, were the norm for Renshai. Even Ra-khir had mistaken Kevral for a boy the first several times he met her. Yet, she had eventually developed enough breast and curve to look like a hardened woman rather than a man. And Talamir was clearly no youngster. He appeared to be in his twenties, and Renshai routinely looked younger than their ages.
“Yes, Papa. Tally passed his testing ten years ago. He’s definitely a man.”
Tae did not know what else to say. He and his son were talking at cross-purposes. They might just as well be using different languages, except the conversation would still make more sense.Tae spoke every known tongue fluently. He did not care when or if Talamir had ever passed beyond Renshai adolescence. He wanted to know why his son was calling a grown man “lover” as if gender meant nothing. He could not understand how two males could confess to a hanging crime with enthusiasm and excitement. Execution. Dread enveloped him. Not Subikahn. Not my only son. Tears pressed Tae’s eyes, and he did not trust himself to speak.
*What’s wrong?* Imorelda asked again; and, again, he ignored her.
Subikahn and Talamir exchanged serious glances. “I told you we needed to keep it secret,” the older Renshai whispered. The acoustics of the room carried it to Tae’s ears anyway. “I warned you not to say anything.”
“He’s my father,” Subikahn hissed back. “The best man in the world, and he loves me.”
The best man in the world. It was exactly what Tae had always wanted to hear his son say, yet it did not warm his heart this day. Something inside him had died, and he worried that he might never know another moment of joy in his existence. He forced himself to speak, saying the only words he dared. “Go to your quarters. I need some time alone to think.”
Talamir bowed and left the room faster than decorum dictated. Subikahn opened his mouth to speak, then closed it. He started again, stopped, and sighed deeply before shuffling from the room as well.
Assailed by all the emotions shock had kept at bay, Tae buried his face in the cat and let them overtake him.
Grimly, King Tae Kahn walked the night hallways of Stalmize Castle, blind to the minute details he usually registered from habit. As a young man, survival had meant remaining attentive, even in sleep; and the need had stayed with him every moment of every day since. His torch threw wild shape
s on the stonework, bringing shadows into vivid relief as he moved. That made him wildly uncomfortable. He would have preferred creeping through the darkness, unseen and unheard; but to do so, he had long ago learned the hard way, risked attack by his own guards. He noticed their every movement as they shifted to allow him free access, recognizing him in the hated, but necessary, torchlight.
Tae reached Subikahn’s bedroom door sooner than he wanted. He stood there several moments in indecision. He had not eaten or slept since their conversation that morning. Nothing but his son’s confession had found a toehold in his thoughts, and formulating his plan had taken precedence even over bodily functions. He believed in the choice he had made, yet he still hesitated. No course of action seemed right; yet doing nothing would be the worst decision of all.
Tae studied the door without seeing it, knowing the teak outline as well as the palm of his own hand. He had memorized every line in the grain, every knothole in the pattern, every stain. He had spent the happiest times of his adulthood here, cradling and singing to his infant son, romping with the boy he had become, listening to the details of his adolescence. No friendship had ever been forged more solidly. The world had never known a love so genuine and deep. Yet, soon, for the boy’s own good, Tae would have to do the most hateful thing he could ever have imagined.
Tae’s hand rose, as if of its own accord, and knocked solidly on the teak door.
For several moments, nothing happened. Tae had just released a pent-up breath when the panel edged open a crack and one sleepy brown eye peered through it. “Papa?” Subikahn said through a yawn. His black hair lay in a tangle around his face, and he wore only his blue satin sleeping pants. His chest looked sinewy, muscled but lightly built, like his father. “What time is it?”
“It’s late,” Tae admitted. “I need to talk to you. Please come.”
Subikahn yawned again. “Just a moment.” The door swung shut.
Flight of the Renshai Page 11