by J. Naomi Ay
“It is,” Loman agreed.
“Bloody insane,” I added for which Loman glared at me.
“Between you and me and Taner,” Loman continued. “We're going to work with Senya and teach him things so that he can do the best job he can possibly do being the…ahem, savior. You see Berkie, Senya is also the Crown Prince of both Mishnah and Karupatani. That means someday he's going to be King of the whole planet.”
“The Lighties and the Darks too?” Berkie asked.
“Everybody,” Loman said. “So he can't go live on the streets of Old Mishnah anymore. Everybody knows he's alive and in a few hours at the presser, everybody is going to see what he looks like. He can't go back to running around all night, selling drugs and killing people. He has to cut his hair and put on nice clean clothes and speak and act like a gentleman, like a prince.”
“I can do that,” Berkie said. “Can I be a prince?”
Loman laughed sardonically. “Sorry but you can't be a prince unless your dad is and I'm no prince. But, if it's alright with Senya, you can stay here. We'll get a bed for you and new clothes, and you can go to school with him here, and we will make you in charge of keeping Senya out of trouble.”
“How do I do that?”
“You just make sure he doesn't knife anyone,” I said. Berkie appeared to ponder this for a few moments and then nodded. The poor kid had no idea what that might entail.
“Senya wants to know why he can't go back to being dead,” Berkie said.
“Because he's alive,” Loman replied. “Let me tell you why Senya was born, Berkie. The two kings decided they needed a very special prince who was both Mishnese and Karupta so that he would stop the wars between them. The Saint decided that this special prince needed magical powers. Senya is too special to be dead.”
Berkie looked across the room at Senya who was still ignoring all of us while chain smoking cigs in the window box.
“Senya says the Saint was just an ordinary guy and doesn’t give out magical powers especially since he's been dead for about a thousand years. He says the Infidel doesn't give out magical powers either, and he's dead too. Besides that,” Berkie continued. “Magic implies that what Senya does is supernatural or with knowledge of the occult and that's not true either because he knows exactly what he does and how he does it, and it's not magic.”
“What?” I gasped.
“Do you understand what you just said, Berkie?” Loman asked.
“Nope,” Berkie said. "Why was I born? How come I didn't get to be a special prince with magical powers?" Loman and I stared at Berkie for a moment and then turned simultaneously to the window box. Senya had his back to us and seemed to be gazing out at the ocean.
“Berkie,” I asked. “How is Senya talking to you?”
“In my head,” Berkie replied. “And he says that it’s okay for me to stay here, but he wants to go live in Karupatani if he can't go back to Old Mishnah. He also said I don't get to be a prince with magical powers, but someday I'll have a very important job, and that's why I was born."
"What the hell are you talking about?" I cried.
"I don't know," Berkie shrugged.
“Senya,” Loman spoke to the window. "You can't go to Karupatani now. Maybe someday you may visit but not now."
I looked at Berkie and waited for a response. Berkie shrugged again. “Why not?”
“Because King Yokaa wants him here now,” Loman barked.
“Why? Senya is Karupta.”
“Senya is just as much Mishnese as he is Karupta and he had better realize that!” Loman shouted at Berkie.
“Okay,” Berkie whispered and his eyes filled with tears. He turned toward Senya. “I'm not going to get in trouble for you, Senya. You've got to talk for yourself now.”
No response. Berkie's lower lip trembled.
“What?” Loman asked, calming down.
“He wants some eggs. He hasn't eaten in a few days, and he's hungry for a lot of them like ten or twenty.”
“Okay,” Loman wrapped his arm around Berkie. “You want some eggs?” Berkie shook his head.
“Nope. I’m full.”
“I'll order them,” I said and got up to ring catering to bring up breakfast for us.
“Can you order a massive birthday cake?” Berkie asked. “After all, if Senya is going to be king of the whole planet, he ought to have the biggest birthday cake.” Berkie held out his arms to show that the cake should be that big. “That's my idea,” he added. “Senya doesn't care about a cake.”
“Who's it for?” The catering department lady asked me.
“Uh...Sen...Uh...His Royal Highness, the Crown Prince.” It sounded ridiculous to be referring to the naked, creepy kid in the window box this way. “He's very hungry, so please be quick about it.”
“I'll make him a lovely cake,” the lady told me. “His mum loved chocolate always. Does he like chocolate too?”
“I guess.”
“We'll put all sorts of decorations on it and lots of sweet frosting. We'll make it just lovely,” she said. “Tell the lad Happy Birthday for us, Mr. Taner, and welcome back.”
“Happy Birthday and welcome back from the catering department,” I mumbled as I rang off. Everyone was so excited he was back. Obviously they hadn’t seen him yet. Loman rose and walked over to the window box.
“We've only got a few hours to get you ready, Senya,” Loman said. “So it's very important you cooperate with us. The valets are going to fit you for new clothes, the doctor is going to make sure you're healthy, and the hairdresser is coming to cut your hair. After you've eaten and dressed, Taner is going to show you how to act whilst in the presence of His Majesty and work with you on speaking proper Mishnese. Berkie is not going to come with you so you cannot use him as your mouthpiece. Do you understand me, lad?”
The boy shrugged.
“I will come with you,” Loman continued. “And Lt. Taner is going to be right outside the door. Taner is your body guard now. He will make sure nothing happens to you.”
“'e won't be very good at it,” Senya said.
“Taner is very well trained,” Loman replied.
“The fuckin' fruit's gonna 'ave me shot an Taner ain't gonna do shit.”
I coughed into my hand. Berkie giggled. Loman cleared his throat.
“Your uncle, Prince Akan is not going to have you shot. He may threaten you, but he won't hurt you. You are under the King's protection.”
“The fruit is Senya's uncle?” Berkie gasped.
“Hush Berkan,” Loman ordered. “Taner come here and swear your allegiance to the Crown Prince and promise to protect him.”
“Excuse me?” I said.
“Taner!” Loman snapped. A bit reluctantly, I crossed the room and took a knee.
“Um…yes, well…I promise,” I started to say. Senya's silver eyes were shining into my face. For a moment, my head went fuzzy. I looked up at him, and I saw him but not as a boy. I saw a man with long black hair, a short cropped black beard, and silver eyes that shone so bright they eclipsed the sun. He radiated power as he towered over me, there was an aura about him as if the Saint himself has touched him and blessed him. I gazed up at him, my heart swelling with love and devotion and then I fell to the floor at his feet and swore my oath of fealty.
“You can get up now Taner,” Loman said. I heard footsteps cross the room, and the door opened, but I was stunned by what I had seen and for a moment could not move.
“Get up, Taner,” Berkie squatted down beside me and whispered in my ear. “Senya is leaving.” I lifted my head and stared across the room at Senya's back. Briefly, the boy turned around and his silver eyes shone once again at me, a sly smile on his lips. My heart trembled, and my skin prickled.
“Get up, Taner,” Berkie nudged me. “Your breakfast is here.” I stumbled to my feet still staring at the door Senya had just disappeared through with the valets.
“You okay, Taner?” Berkie asked. I turned to Loman. He was looking at me with narrow eyes.<
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“What the heck?” I shook my head, the image of the grown Senya still in my skull. “What is he?”
Loman shook his head.
“Did you see him?”
“Who?” Berkie asked.
Loman smiled slightly and nodded. “Twelve years ago today.”
“Who?” Berkie demanded again.
“The MaKennah ka Rehnor,” Loman replied. “The man who will save us.”
5
Meri
Several months after the guardsman took Senya to the Palace, he came to my door again. As it was, I was watching the vid where my Senya was shown holding an audience for thousands of teenage girls of superior blood. Poor Senya looked like he was cut from a stone. I imagined him miserable in all those fancy clothes with his strange feet trapped in tight leather shoes. It was good to see him looking so clean and healthy. My heart raced with joy when I saw him, the pics of him in the news and the pinups they later made of him for the people to buy. I loved to chat about him with the people in the Old Mishnah. Everyone suddenly claimed him as a friend. Even the old grocer declared that always he had given Senya whatever he desired, Senya was never a thief. The guardsman, Lt. Taner came to my door several months later and presented me with a purse filled with many, many gold coins.
“His Majesty thanks you for your service, Ma'am,” Lt. Taner said. He smiled at me in an awkward way when I invited him in. My flat was clean and tidy, and I had coffee hot in a pot, but he refused and headed down the hall.
“Is Senya happy?” I called after him. He turned for a moment and looked back at me.
“His Royal Highness is as could be expected,” he replied haughtily and then realizing how cold he must have sounded, he smiled apologetically. “It's kind of a tough adjustment, but we're working with him. Captain Loman's twelve year old son lives with us, and he and Senya have become great friends.”
I was happy Senya had a little friend. He never got along with any other children before. I counted the coins after Lt. Taner left, and it was a sum beyond my wildest imagination. I did not know what to do with them, but I would not be hasty about it. I would think on it carefully and plan for my future. I placed the coins beneath my pillow and during the night while I slept, the coins gave me dreams and told me what to do. In the morning, I took the bus into New Mishnah and opened an account at a bank. Then I found an attorney. Through the attorney, I contracted to purchase the building in which I lived as well as the buildings adjacent on either side. I arranged for improvements to be made so that the hallways were not dark and smelly and filled with vermin, and so that the water would always run hot and cold and with a strong force. The radiators, I replaced with a new heating system that was silent and energy efficient. I replaced all the windows with triple paned glass. The manager who lived on the bottom floor and who many times I had serviced, I fired and replaced with a leasing company.
6
Moira
When I was a girl, I wanted to be a dancer. My parent's indulged me because I was their youngest and most precious daughter and, so they arranged for a dance tutor to come to the great hall where we lived and teach me to dance. I loved ballet. I was graceful as a swan, my father the Duke of Dekoor said. I was as lithe as a feather, my mother the Duchess said. I danced every moment that I could, gliding across the floor, leaping into the arms of my tutor and soaring to the heavens on my toes until the day I broke my foot. After that, my toe shoes were useless, and my dancing ended. I was fifteen.
I had no use for schooling. I could read and write Mishnese well enough. I had learned the history of Rehnor and Rozari and could recite it well enough. I could do sums in my head enough to play cards with my sisters, and I could sing and play piano passably well. I couldn't sew. I had never the patience to make tiny stitches. So there I was at fifteen, unable to dance with nothing more to learn in this world. I had only to wait to be matched to a sufficiently bred man which as the daughter of a duke meant only a son of a duke or prince. Even the son of an earl was not good enough for me. The problem was there were precious few men of high breeding remaining in Mishnah and Saint knows though Karupatani was teeming with princes and chiefs, no good Mishnese girl would ever willingly be wed to one of them. On top of that, I was the fourth in the line of Dekoor's daughters and so three dukes must be found first to accommodate my sisters. There was one prince in our realm, our Crown Prince Yokaa Kalila who at the age of thirty-two, still had not found a bride. He was our cousin, through my father, three times removed and the only child of our king who had accumulated four wives before he managed to beget a son. As you can imagine, Yokaa was a hot commodity.
During the summer of my fifteenth year as I mourned the loss of my toe shoes, the Crown Prince was invited to our estate to celebrate the solstice. Ideally, he was to meet and be enchanted by my eldest sister Dora, and if she were not enchanting enough, Luka and then Nisa were to have a go at it. Never in a million years would anyone imagine that I, Moira, the youngest of the lot, short and skinny with the figure of a boy would even begin to attract the middle aged Crown Prince. He found me diverting. That was his word. My sisters bored him with their fawning and quest for court gossip, but I was fresh and diverting with my silly childish ways. Though I could no longer leap and dance, I could run and run I did whenever he saw me. Hence, he gave chase. He spent a week at our estate and chased me through the hallways, the gardens, the maze, the forest, and the valley. When he caught up with me, when he found me hiding beneath a shrub or wedged between the garden walls, he would demand a kiss as a reward.
“One kiss, Sir,” I would say and peck him chastely upon his cheek. Sometimes he would reach for me to demand more and once or twice he managed to brush my lips with his own but like a sprite I would spirit away, and the chase would begin anew.
At the end of this week, the Crown Prince asked my father, the Duke for my hand in marriage although he was more than twice my age. My father insisted he wait until my sixteenth birthday, and in the meantime, I was to move to the Palace of Mishnah where I would begin my training for my position as Crown Princess and future Queen. My sisters’ were insanely jealous, but they came to Mishnah with me as my mother insisted they become my attendants. For seven months, I prepared for my wedding and my future duties with a diligence and steadfastness that I had previously reserved for only my dancing. On the day after my sixteenth birthday, I became the Crown Princess, and my virginity was rewarded to my husband who unbeknownst to me had slept repeatedly with each of my sisters during this time.
“Get used to it, Moira,” my mother snapped when I wept to her upon discovering this news. It was my sister Nisa who bragged about it whilst curtseying to me as she was now required to do. My mother was inordinately pleased by my match and further still by my sister Luka who had quickly become my husband's favorite concubine. She would find no fault for his sins but rather blamed me for my innocence. “Your son will be the next king, and that is who you must love without fail,” she said as if my husband's affections were of no consequence.
I became pregnant quickly and was overjoyed to learn that my child was a girl. My son would belong to Mishnah, my daughter would belong to me. From the moment of my discovery, I chose to spend the next eight months lying in. My sisters were forced to wait upon me, to pamper, to curtsey to me, and when my angel, my Lydia was born, I made them kiss her tiny feet and pledge to serve her, the Princess Royal, all their days. My husband the Crown Prince was pleased by our daughter for truly she had the look of an angel with curly hair the color of the sun and clear grey eyes so light they seemed almost devoid of color. Her skin was fair like a Lightie, but her lips were ruby red. He would kiss her hands and her feet, and she would laugh and smile and charm him beyond any other. He rewarded me for granting him this beautiful gift. He brought me jewels and filled my suite with flowers. He kissed my hands and called me his beloved Moira, and he soured upon my sister's attentions, and for a brief moment in time, it was only I whose bed he shared.
I beca
me pregnant again and this time with our son. Bells pealed throughout Mishnah announcing this great news and my husband and father in law, the King, kissed my feet and declared me a goddess descended from the heavens. I lay upon my couch all day feeling my son move about my womb, watching my beautiful daughter play quietly with her toys and feeling content with this life as never before. During my lying in, my husband found another maid or two to focus his attentions. He begged my pardon for he would not dare harm his son by penetrating my womb and so, his nights no longer were spent in my chamber but elsewhere. I told myself to care not because within me I had a future king, and it was him I should endow with my love. My son Akan was born, and he too was a beautiful child. His hair was brown like my husband's, but his eyes were a piercing emerald green.
“You have the most beautiful children on Rehnor,” I was told by many, and without a doubt it was true. My children were well behaved and modest though they knew their station and commanded well the servants who kissed their hands and feet and did their bidding. Yokaa, my husband came to my bed infrequently after that. I had given him what he needed, and if he came to me it was only out of formality. He visited plenty other beds though and so I shared mine with my children, clutching their small bodies as they slept, listening to the even sounds of their breathing and knowing that Akan, the future king, loved me more than anyone.
When my children were young still, a boy came to live with us. His name was Loman, and he was the son of a Lightie woman, a one time chambermaid of my mother-in-law, the Queen. The chambermaid had died a miserable death of a painful cancer this past year. The Queen took pity upon the child and brought him to the Palace as no father was ever known to him and no relative would raise him in the mother's stead. He became a companion for my children, their guardian and babysitter as he was twelve years to Lydia's seven. He was a serious child, perhaps made so by the tragic circumstances of his arrival among us but he was dependable and took care so much so, I needed only be told that Loman was with them to have no fear of my own children's safety. There was something about him that bothered me though. I thought perhaps it was his lightness for his hair, and his skin were shockingly white, and his eyes were a pale blue and as nearly translucent as Lydia's own. He was large for a boy, but that was not it. Something niggled at the back of my brain, and as the children grew older, as I watched the childish love dawn in my own Lydia's eyes, my dislike of Loman began to take root. When Loman was sixteen and Lydia eleven with budding breasts and a wicked wit, I insisted that Loman be removed from our presence. He was old enough to be schooled elsewhere, mature enough to require neither parent nor guardian, and large enough to pass easily for a man twice his age. My husband demurred. He liked the boy and strangely sought out his company preferring Loman to his own son and heir. Together they would hunt and ride, sail boats upon the sea and no doubt find maids to ravish when the night time came. Akan was far too young for these pleasures in any case but even if he were not, his father found little use for him. He was my child, my baby and perhaps it was my fault, treating him as if his every breath were precious. His concerns were his hair, his fingernails, and the softness of his skin. He looked upon Lydia's gowns with obvious jealousy and once when he was about nine years old, a chambermaid confessed that she had found him dressing himself in his sister's attire. Of course, I never shared this with the Crown Prince. I hoped it was a phase and soon it would be done with. After repeatedly airing my many concerns about Loman however, the boy was finally sent off to the Royal Guard Academy. I don't know who missed him more, my daughter or my husband but both of them looked upon me as if I were solely to blame for the boy's absence.