by J. Naomi Ay
“Is he alright?” Lydia squeaked each time they gazed upon the screen with their hands crossed behind their backs.
“He is…he is…different.” How or what this meant was never explained. I looked at him and counted fingers and toes. His head was the correct shape. His little body curled in the tight space seemed equally normal. His tiny cock seemed normal, as well. What could possibly be wrong?
“I am feared for our baby, Sorkan,” Lydia wept when the doctors left.
“Our baby will be a great King,” I told her. “You have nothing to fear. When he is born, and you are recovered, we will make him a sibling too.”
“Will we?” she smiled with her water colored eyes. “I should like a daughter.”
“It is done,” I said as if I could control such things. “As beautiful as you, my wife.”
In the seventh month of Lydia's gestation, I returned to Karupatani only for two days. It was mid summer and the meeting of the councils. Though I was no longer Crown Prince, I was treated with great respect and admiration. Everyone asked of my wife, my son and blessed me for having stopped the wars of a thousand years. My father smiled at me with great pride, and for the first time since my mother's and my brother’s death, he seemed at peace.
On the first day of August, I flew back to the Palace of Mishnah, anxious to return to my wife's side and await the birth of my son. As soon as I landed in the courtyard, I knew something had happened. The palace, though filled with light and sun, was shrouded in darkness. My limo had barely touched down before I bolted across the lawn toward the Big House. It was silent there, silent as never before without a chambermaid or servant anywhere in sight. I ran to our rooms, to Lydia's suite where only two days before I left her with a kiss and a promise to hurry back. The doors were locked and sealed. There was no guard to grant me entrance. I pounded on them until my knuckles were raw and bleeding. I screamed. “Lydia! Lydia!” for what seemed like eons.
“She's dead,” the big Lightie said pulling my bloody hands away from the door. “This morning.”
“No!” I cried. “No!” and I collapsed upon the floor. The Lightie let me drop. “How?” I begged of him.
He shook his head.
“Lydia,” I wept and then I realized how it had come to pass. “My son?”
The Lightie shook his head again and then he left me, a huddled mess. Somehow I managed my way back to the limo and somehow I was flown to my empty, cold, palace in Segefor. Once there I began to drink. I drank and drank and drank until sometime later, Pedah came for me.
“I've lost everything,” I slurred.
“You haven't,” he said. “Your son still lives. You must go get him from them.”
“I don't care,” I wept. “I don't want him. I want my Lydia.”
“You must Sorkan. Everything depends upon your son.”
“No! Let them keep him. He is nothing to me. I hate him. He has taken my Lydia and taken my crown. I want nothing of him.” I refused to set down the bottle I drank from. I refused to move. Pedah left and for many years I set not a foot in Karupatani. I did not lay eyes upon my son for twelve more years when suddenly his face, my face with Lydia's fair complexion, was plastered across the vid screens of Rehnor.
8
Taner
Late afternoon, after his audience, we returned to Senya's suite. Earlier in the day, his hair, teeth and skin were scrubbed raw. He was dressed in what we referred to as our “Dress blacks”, the formal guardsmen uniform with gold silk sash except that his had a great deal more brocade than mine and the gold buttons and thread were genuine. His hair had been cut so that it hung just below his shoulders, and it was tied back with a black ribbon. The doctor had declared him healthy but had whispered quietly to Loman that there were traces of Horkin in the boy's urine and needle marks on his arms. Keeping him off of drugs had just been added to my long list of responsibilities.
Senya's toenails were not the only strange appendages. The doctor was shocked to discover long, fang-like incisors next to perfectly normal permanent teeth. While these extra sharp teeth were certainly weird and later very disconcerting when I looked at them, they didn't seem to cause problems for him. His toenails, however, were far too long and curled to make wearing shoes comfortable, but too hard and thick to be cut by a normal, small scissors. A man was sent to the aviary to obtain a special clipper to snip avian talons and the doctor used that to trim Senya's nails enough so he could wear shoes.
“Senya and I want a cheese pizza,” Berkie announced. “And milkshakes. And more chocolate cake. And French fries.”
“Order what you want,” Loman grumbled, and the two of us sat down on the divans. Loman opened a beer while Berkie rang catering.
“How did it go in there?” I asked.
Loman shrugged and took a long pull. I took a pack of cigarettes out of my pocket and shook out the last one. During the boy's visit to the doctor, I had run back to my flat and pocketed a fresh pack. Now all but one were gone. Then I noticed Senya, back in the window box smoking a cig, his dress coat and shoes abandoned on the floor.
“He's stealing them from me,” I commented, holding up the now empty pack.
“That's the least of your worries,” Loman harrumphed.
Unfortunately, he was probably right. “The audience didn't go well?”
Loman opened a second beer and sighed loudly. “As well as could be expected. We're still alive, aren't we? For now," he added in a mumble.
I glanced at the boy in the window box ignoring us but probably listening to every word. I leaned forward and whispered. “Tell me he didn't tell His Majesty to fuck off.”
Loman snorted. “No. He didn't speak at all. Not a word, thank the Saint. He opened his eyes though and for a moment I thought the King was going to go into cardiac arrest. The queen shrieked and ran from the room. Akan went into a tirade about the Infidel reborn and then it was done, and we were dismissed."
“Great," I nodded taking a drag on my cig. “So are we back out to the streets of Old Mishnah in search of a less spooky boy?"
Loman snorted again. "No, Taner. Spooky or not, we've got the correct lad. He's got an ID chip in his arm that was inserted when he was a baby. It's still there. I saw it. Shine a torch on his right bicep and you'll see his crest."
"You think he knew all along, about this? I mean, how did he know to go to your house? Why isn't he thrilled to be here? You'd think a street kid would be ecstatic to find out he's actually a prince."
Loman moaned slightly and pinched the bridge of his nose as if he had a migraine. "Taner, we all have a great deal to learn about Senya. He's not just a street kid. He is the MaKennah ka Rehnor and according to the Karuts, his birth was foretold centuries ago. I haven't a clue what he knows, but I do know he cannot read or write Mishnese. He has never had any sort of schooling so tomorrow you will walk the boys to Building 21, second floor, where you will find their tutors. In the afternoon, you will fetch them again when they are finished. The den is going to be converted into a bedroom for you and the boys will share the master bedroom here.”
“I'm to live in here?” I gasped. "And Berkan?"
“Yes. Both of you will be with him all hours, Taner,” Loman said sternly. “You are not to leave his side unless I grant you permission and then only after I get a relief guard.”
“I'm a detective, not a babysitter,” I mumbled. "He's safe here in the palace. He's got the king's protection, right?"
“You are the king's protection,” Loman snapped and took out a vial of pills from his pocket. He tossed one back in his mouth. “You are now his personal body guard. Let me tell you, Akan has threatened to have him killed since the day he was conceived. Akan is full of air and weak as a kitten. However, all it takes is one good shot. You are to make certain that Akan's loyalists don't get a chance to take that shot. You are his last line of defense.”
“You think Akan will try something?”
Senya turned from the window and listened to us with his eyes
closed.
"What?" I looked back at him.
His face hardened, and his eyes flashed like he'd like to put his blade back in my throat.
I'm supposed to take a bullet for him. Maybe I should just cut my own throat and get it over with. Just then, there was a knock on the door and the catering cart came in.
"Pizza!" Berkie shrieked and raced across the room. He grabbed the tray and carried it over to the window box holding it out to Senya like an offering. "You get the first piece because it's your birthday, Senya."
"No," Loman stood up and lumbered over to the window. "Senya will always get the first piece because he is the Crown Prince, Berkan. You must defer to him in all things."
Senya turned back to the window ignoring all of us and the pizza.
"Senya doesn't want it," Berkie declared. "I can eat it all by myself."
"Would you like something else instead, Sir?" Loman asked politely.
Senya continued to stare outside like a caged animal, pressing his face against the glass. I almost felt sorry for him.
"You need to eat, son," Loman said.
Berkie shrieked again. "Senya wants something bloody! You are sure one weird dude, Senya!"
"Berkie!" Loman snapped. "Go eat your pizza." He pointed at the kitchen.
"Bloody?" I coughed, stifling a laugh and joining them at the window. "Something you can rip apart with those fangs? Loman, you think we need to protect him from Akan? Akan ought to be running for the hills. Maybe we all should be."
Loman grimaced and cleared his throat. "What would you like for your dinner, Sir? Would you like a beef steak? Rare?"
The boy shrugged. Somehow I doubted he's ever had a beef steak. I wondered what his idea of bloody meat was a rat or maybe another person.
"Very good, Sir," Loman said and left to ring catering yet again. I stood near the boy looking out the window at the darkening sky.
"Looks like a storm is moving in across the ocean," I remarked as dark clouds swirled overhead foreboding something although I wasn’t sure what.
"Ye can't protect me," the boy whispered.
"What?"
He turned to me, silver light shining from between the thin slits of his long lashes. I wondered how he saw anything with his eyes nearly closed.
"Ye can't do shit, Taner."
"How do you know what I can do?" I replied. "Maybe I'm the most loyal Royalist there ever was and I'll catch every bullet that is headed your way. Maybe I'll lay down like a mat for you to walk all over me."
"Maybe you'll run fer cover, and I'll 'ave to save yer ass," he said.
I studied his blank face wondering what he knew. What could possibly be going on inside that head? "Listen Senya," I said. "Let's call a truce. It sounds like we are going to be stuck with each other for a long time so let's make a deal. I'll share my smokes with you if you leave one for me occasionally and don't chew on my leg when I'm sleeping or anything like that, okay?"
He shrugged and turned away again just as the doors swung open allowing Prince Akan and Lord Phylyp to enter. Half of Phylyp's face was covered with a bandage. He was holding what appeared to be a horse whip in one of his hands.
"Just one big happy family, aren't we?" Akan smirked, standing in the middle of the room. Phylyp snickered and stroked his whip.
"What do you want, Akan?" Loman sighed.
"Come now you stupid, Lightie," Akan practically screamed. "Address me correctly!" He gazed across the room at Berkan. "Or I may have to teach your son a thing or two." Berkan squeaked and ducked below the kitchen cabinets. Akan and Phylyp laughed.
"How may I serve you my lord Prince?" Loman grumbled.
"That's better," Akan smiled. "We have come to mete out punishment to our beloved nephew for the damage he has inflicted upon our lord Phylyp's face. Phylyp may even need surgery to restore his beauty. Bring the boy to us."
Senya didn’t move from the window box. In fact, he didn’t even bother to turn around.
"His Majesty said there was no need of punishment," Loman declared. "And His Majesty is the MaKennah's guardian, not you."
"There has been a change of plans," Akan said. "After viewing this wretched creature, our noble father has decided that all and everything must be done to rid him of the evil that surely infests his soul. Therefore, our lord Phylyp will administer punishment for the heinous attack on his face today. Sehron, come here!"
Senya still didn’t move. I didn’t think anyone had ever called him Sehron before. Maybe he didn’t realize that was his name.
"Senya," Loman rolled his eyes. "Get over here. You must obey your lord uncle, Prince Akan."
Nothing.
"Senya," Loman repeated and raised his eyebrows at me.
"Senya," I whispered. "You’ve gotta do as you're told. That's the way it works here."
"Come here right now," Akan shouted. "I command you!"
Nobody moved.
"Loman," Akan hissed. "Bring me the boy."
Loman closed his eyes as if this were painful. "Though you out rank Prince Akan, Senya, you are still a minor child and therefore, must obey him. Do as you are bid."
The boy was cut from stone. I couldn’t tell if he was even breathing.
"Fine!" Akan shouted and grabbing the horse whip from Phylyp's hand, raced across the room to the window box. "I shall teach you to obey me!" Before I could even think to react, he lashed out at Senya. The whip cracked, inadvertently slapping my face after slashing at the boy.
"Ow!" I yelled, backing away as Senya's new silk blouse tore and an angry red welt erupted across his shoulder.
"One for every cut on Phylyp's face!" Akan quickly swung the whip again, but it went flying out of his hand and landed on the floor. Akan bent to pick it up, but before our eyes, it turned into an enormous yellow and black snake, easily ten foot long with a body as thick as a man's leg. Akan screamed and backed away. I ran for cover behind a sofa. The snake slithered across the floor, spitting and coiling its massive body closer to Akan. Berkie whimpered from the kitchen while Senya turned from the window box, his weird eyes flashing like the lightning outside.
"Senya," Loman cautiously crept toward the boy, watching the snake although it seemed intent on only Akan. "That's enough, Senya," Loman hissed. "Get rid of it."
The snake spat at Akan. Berkie wailed louder.
"Now Senya!" Loman commanded. Senya raised his hand, and the snake erupted into flames. It sizzled and burned and a moment later, it was reduced to only a pool of ash on the marble floor. A sickening stench remained in the room.
"Zowie," Berkan gasped from behind the kitchen counter, tears streaking down his face.
"Zowie is right," I breathed, thankful there were no tears running down my own face.
"He is evil!" Akan cried, clutching Phylyp. "He is truly evil." The two of them practically ran from the chamber.
"Open the patio doors, Taner," Loman ordered as I stared dumbfounded at the ash pile. "It stinks in here. Berkie, call custodial and tell them to come clean this up. Come on lad, let's get this torn blouse off you and some salve on that welt."
Senya climbed down from the window box and docilely followed Loman into the bedroom. He didn’t even glance at the ash pile on the floor. Berkie and I joined them a moment later and watched as Loman helped the boy climb into bed.
"Try to get some sleep now," Loman said turning off the light and pulling me toward the door. "Berk, you sleep in that bed across from Senya and Taner will be right here outside the door."
"Daddy, I didn't brush my teeth," Berkan cried.
"Tomorrow, Berkan!" Loman shut the door behind us.
"What the fuck was that?" I gasped. A custodian had arrived and was sweeping up what had been the snake. "Did he, did Senya....how the hell? You're going to let your boy stay in there with him, alone?"
Loman looked tiredly at me. "He won't hurt Berkie. He needs Berkie. He needs a friend."
“How do you know? Maybe he could just conjure up a friend like he did that snake. B
lessed Saint, that kid is freaky. You sure, he's the right kid? You sure he's the one who's going to be King of Rehnor?"
"Yes, Taner," Loman nodded, heading to the door along with the custodian. "He's definitely the right boy. Just try not to make him mad."
9
Berkan
My life began the night that Senya entered it. I jumped on a roller coaster that would take me through highs and lows like I could never have imagined. Senya was the coolest kid alive. He was the Crown Prince, and I was his conduit. He would use my eyes to see and my voice to speak. If he wanted something, I would gladly ask for it, and if he didn't like something, I would happily scorn it. He used me like he had used that black mutt, which had followed him around the streets of Old Mishnah, and I did so without qualm. I moved into his suite, and we shared a bedroom, sleeping across from each other every night. We were always together, and though we may have gotten on Taner's nerves, I came to love every minute of it. But I wouldn't for a moment trade places with Senya. I was always the luckier of the two of us. After all, I had a mother and father who loved me, and I lived in the Palace by choice. I could go home when I wanted. Nothing was expected of me other than to be Senya's friend. I wore great clothes, ate incredible food, was privately tutored and lived in the nicest place on Rehnor.
“Your job, Berkie,” Taner would say. “Is to make Senya happy.”
Senya was never happy though. On our first night together, l lay in my bunk trembling as I listened to the thunder raging overhead. I'm not sure what terrified me more, the lightning that periodically lit up our room, Prince Akan who had already beaten Senya to a pulp, or the giant snake that magically appeared at Akan’s feet and then burst into flame when Senya waved his hand. I wanted to go home. I wanted my own bed and the security of knowing my mom and dad were in the next room. In the dark of the night, during the height of the storm, I decided that this palace wasn't so cool after all and I clambered out of my bed and into the living room to find Taner snoring loudly on the sofa.