Subikahn heard someone approach from behind; his Renshai training would not allow a potential threat to go unnoticed. Logic overruled instinct. No one currently in Bearn Castle would harm him, and it seemed like too much trouble and energy to turn.
Matrinka came up beside Subikahn and rested her hand on his. "It's all right, honey. He's going to be fine."
Subikahn turned to face her, glad to give his hand to her, any excuse to remove it from the latch. "Your Majesty-"
"Matrinka," she corrected, her features stern. "No formality between old friends."
At nineteen, Subikahn found it difficult to say he had any friendships he could consider long-standing. But he had known Matrinka nearly since birth. "I-I've heard a rumor."
"Yes?"
"That his injuries…" Subikahn wanted Matrinka to finish.
Matrinka did not oblige, but she did answer his actual question. "The other healers don't understand. They see a wound and pronounce it fatal for any man." She turned him a grin, lopsided from weariness and discomfort. "Your father, Subikahn, is not 'any man.' "
Subikahn held his breath, afraid of what he might hear. It would not surprise him to find out that animal blood ran through the veins of his paternal ancestors. Are we demons? Sorcerers? We can't be god-blooded. "What do you mean?"
Matrinka took Subikahn's other hand. "I mean, your father… he survived… what he survived in childhood, you know. And I don't know if he was born with an iron nature or acquired it through what happened when he was simply too young to know he should be dead; but I've seen him wounded worse than this before. I've pronounced him dead on at least one other occasion, yet he's still with us: then… and now."
Subikahn blinked. He had no idea what she was talking about. "Your Maj…" he started; then, remembering her admonishment, changed in mid word, "… trinka. What happened?"
"Sword cut and arrow shot," Matrinka explained, "a bad fall, a long float in the ocean, and a shark attack."
Subikahn went even stiller, if possible. He had meant his question to refer to the childhood incident, but the current information stunned him. "All of that?"
"I'm afraid so."
Subikahn swallowed hard. How could anyone survive that? The idea of walking through the door became even more difficult. "When you mentioned what he survived in childhood, is that where the scars came from?"
Matrinka was visibly startled. "You don't know? He's never told you?"
Subikahn hesitated, worried Matrinka would keep the confidences of her longtime friend she considered a brother. He thought about lying but doubted he could successfully pull it off and get the answers he had sought for as long as he could remember. "He always dodges the question. I want to know. Tell me."
Matrinka looked from the door to Subikahn, as if weighing her loyalties to father and to son. Finally, she sighed. "Enemies of your grandfather tortured and slaughtered your grandmother, stabbed your father at least a dozen times, and left him for dead. My understanding is that there was more blood on the floor than inside Tae when Weile found him."
Subikahn did not allow himself to cringe. He did not want to discourage Matrinka. The scars riddled Tae's chest; the assassins had clearly intended to kill him. Surely, Matrinka had nothing to add.
But the queen of Bearn continued talking. "And before he turned your age, Weile sent Tae out alone, experienced killers at his heels, to 'toughen him up.' " She snorted. "Toughen him up? He's the toughest son of a bastard in the kingdom, I'd guess. Maybe in the world. He hated his father for doing that to him, despised the entire world for a while, and vowed that he would keep his own child safe and close. Which is why, Subikahn, he's always been so sweet and loving with you."
Has he? Clearly, Tae had not told Matrinka of their falling out, how the king had exiled the son he had promised to keep safe and close. "So," Subikahn said without a hint of emotion. "He's going to recover?"
Matrinka heaved another, deeper sigh. "It's up to him, now, Subikahn. The salt water cleansed his wounds nicely, and I've given him potent herbs to keep infection at bay." She shrugged. "He's living from event to event, which is never a good thing. First, he was just going to drag on long enough to get Imorelda safely to me. Then, it was until he described his scouting mission to someone in authority. Now, he's waiting to settle things up with you."
Icy prickles passed along Subikahn's shoulders to his fingers. He could not help wondering how much Matrinka knew. "Settle things up?"
"You know, the father/son deathbed speech. Half promises, half pep talk. I've seen a number of them. Very inspiring, but also a perfect excuse to… surrender."
Subikahn guessed her point. "Surrender… to death, you mean?"
"Yes."
Subikahn stepped back, relieved. "So, the longer I delay this meeting, the longer he lives?"
"No." Matrinka would not let him off that easily. "Subikahn, you have to see him. No matter what I think, his wounds are serious.You may not get another chance, and we will both hate ourselves forever if you don't see him before he dies."
Or I die. Subikahn realized Tae's fate might prove less tenuous than his own once the battle began in earnest.
"Just… be sure you leave something undone or unsaid. Something significant that will obsess him until the wounds have more time to heal. Give him a new short-term goal to live toward."
Subikahn tried to ask casually, "And I suppose you don't want me to give him any… stress."
"Stress," Matrinka repeated thoughtfully. "A child in his second decade not giving his father stress?" She snorted. "If you start getting all sweet and sappy on him, he'll think he's dying for sure."
Subikahn could not help smiling. "All right, then." He took his hands from Matrinka and put one on the latch again. "If I can just remember how to open a door."
Without warning, Matrinka put her hand over Subikahn's, tripped the latch, and eased the panel open. She nudged him forward, and Subikahn stumbled just enough to allow her to close it gently behind him.
Thanks. Subikahn found himself in a large room furnished with enough chairs and benches to hold a small meeting. The bed took up the far corner, across from an open window that admitted flower-scented air in the occasional huffs of wind. Across from it, Tae leaned on a bunched and colorful blanket, two others spread across his legs and abdomen. His bare chest looked thin, sallow instead of its usual healthy olive, and the scars stood out in mute testimony to past hardships. Remembering the story Matrinka had told him, Subikahn could not help wincing at the sight of them.
Apparently noticing the direction of Subikahn's gaze, Tae pulled up one of the blankets.
Imorelda strolled across Tae from legs to abdomen, as if he were nothing more than furniture. She yawned and stretched each paw delicately.
"Hello there, Papa," Subikahn said cheerily, as if they had seen one another mere hours ago. "How's your life going?"
Using Tae as a launch site, Imorelda sprang at Subikahn. Suppressing the urge to dodge, Subikahn managed to catch the large cat, holding her as she rubbed her head all over his face in greeting.
"Bit tenuous at the moment, I'm afraid." Despite the warning in his words, Tae managed a smile. His features looked wan, older; but his dark eyes remained clear. His usually tangled hair had been combed to an ebon sheen.
Subikahn did not know what to say. "Papa, I know I wasn't supposed to see you for another year, and you told me not to run to Erythane. But under the circumstances-"
Tae nodded. "You did the right thing, Subikahn. Bearn needs everyone. Everyone. Especially talented swordsmen like you."
Subikahn saw no need to respond to the compliment. No Renshai would.
"I love you, Subikahn." The words seemed to come from nowhere. No thread of the conversation had brought Tae there.
Subikahn set the cat back down on the bed, absently stroking her head and back while she stretched and turned to bring the right places under his hand. Her purr filled the room. "Stop it, Papa. I talked to Matrinka. I know you're not dyi
ng."
Tae grimaced. "Matrinka's words do not determine the fate of the universe."
"No," Subikahn admitted, drawing a hard, wooden chair directly up to the bedside. "But you'd be hard-pressed to find a more skilled healer. If she says you're not dying, I believe her." He abandoned the cat to sit.
Imorelda continued purring.
"What if I told you I can feel my body decaying day by day? That each time I awaken, it's a painful and terrible surprise." Red-tinged froth bubbled from his lips as he spoke, and he wiped it away with the already stained corner of a blanket. "That it's a fight I want to quit now, a battle I just can't win."
Subikahn bit his lip. He would not lie, not this time. "I'd say you were a coward and a craven, misjudged by the Renshai. A man like that does not deserve to have his blood in the Renshai pool."
Tae lowered his head. "Matrinka said you'd say that."
"Matrinka's words," Subikahn said, "determine the fate of the universe."
Tae managed a laugh, though he cringed at the obvious pain it caused him. "If only that were so, there would never be another war." He wiped away more blood-tinged drool. "Subikahn." Tae's tone grew intent, serious. "When I sent you from the East, I had no idea the Renshai would become Western exiles."
"Barred from the North, West, and East." Subikahn shrugged. "Where was I supposed to go? Another world? A star? Valhalla?"
"I'd have found a way."
It was truth, Subikahn knew. He had heard enough stories of his father's exploits. "Yes, but you're a sneaky little sod who can eavesdrop on anyone. I wouldn't put it past you to have already picked up the enemy's language." He gestured in the general direction of the shore. "I'm not like you, Papa. I'm not tough as steel."
Tae's brows eeled upward. "You must have inherited that softness from your mother."
"Funny." Subikahn had never considered how an aggressive, uncompromising Renshai and a man with a constitution of iron had created a sensitive daisy like him. "Maybe Saviar shared some blood with me in the womb."
"Maybe." Tae did not seem convinced, or else he did not think it mattered. "Then perhaps I can blame Ra-khir for putting me in the position of…"
"Position of what?"
"Nearly having to execute you for being a-"
"Bonta?"
Tae looked away. "I was going to be more discreet."
"More discreet than bonta?"
A hint of command entered Tae's voice, weak but clearly there. "Stop saying that!"
"Bonta, bonta, bonta!" Subikahn continued to stare until Tae finally met his gaze again. "It's what I am, Papa. I'm a bonta. Your son, Prince Subikahn Taesson the bonta."
"Stop saying bonta."
"Why, Papa?" Subikahn would not relent. "Why should I stop saying bonta? What's wrong with bonta? I like the word bonta. Bonta just rolls off the tongue." He remembered his conversation with Saviar and could not help grinning. The more times he used the word, the less power it held over him.
"Because it's a derogatory term. Degrading. My son is not a bonta."
"I am, too."
Tae held up a hand. "He's a… a… lover of men."
Warmth flooded Subikahn. At least, his father seemed to have grasped the most important point, to have accepted the once unacceptable. "Fine, I'm a man-lover, a sodomist, a daisy. Call me what you want, but I'm done sleeping with women. It's…" He could not think of a suitable word, so he resorted to childish slang, "… bleffy."
"You tried?"
"I did, Papa. Many times." A terrible thought occurred to him. "You could have an illegitimate grandchild out there somewhere."
"And you're still…"
"… a lover of men.Yes, Papa. It's not something I can change any more than I can my parentage. I'm stuck with you as a father, and you're stuck with me as a…"
"… son?" Tae inserted.
"As a bonta."
"Stop saying that!"
Subikahn took the sober route this time. He had had enough fun at Tae's expense. "It's just a label, Papa. Like prince. Or Easterner."
"Except that label is punishable by execution."
Subikahn leaned forward. "As opposed to… Renshai? In some places, it's a crime just to speak the name. They consider us anathema, to be killed on sight."
"Not in the East, anymore. Weile repealed that law."
Subikahn stared at his father, wondering how long it would take Tae to see the obvious solution now that he had practically spoken it.
"I still think we can fix you, Subikahn."
"No, Papa. I'm not broken." Subikahn resorted to Kevral's words, "It's the way the gods made me." He noticed the cat staring at him, waving her tail fiercely, demanding more pets.
"The gods, Subikahn, are not infallible. They make babies without legs sometimes, with extra fingers. I once saw a stillborn with two heads."
"Fine." Subikahn saw no reason to argue the point. "Perhaps they made a mistake with me, but it's not something that needs 'fixing.' I like being a…"
Tae winced.
"… lover of men. A lover of one man in particular." The image of Talamir sent a wave of comfort through Subikahn. He pictured the blond in his mind: strong, confident, handsome, with blue eyes a man could get lost in. "Papa, you know what it's like to be in love. The kind of love that overwhelms you, against which you measure every person, every emotion, that crosses your path. Imagine if Kevral had chosen to marry you. Talamir-"
Tae made a gasping sound that completely upended Subikahn's thoughts.
"What's wrong?"
All the color drained from Tae's face.
Subikahn sprang from his chair. "Are you choking? What can I do?"
"Talamir," Tae said. His voice sounded feeble, but not gravelly or breathless.
Subikahn tried to guess the source of Tae's abrupt discomfort. "He didn't rape me, Papa. I swear it. I initiated the… the contact. He was nothing but sweet and gentle and loving…"
Tae only looked more uncomfortable. Subikahn took several nervous steps backward. He's going to die. He's going to die right in front of me. "Matrinka's right outside the door. I'll get her."
"Just give me one last hug." The words came out hoarse, painful.
Matrinka's words echoed in Subikahn's head: "… be sure you leave something undone or unsaid…"
"The hug can wait." Subikahn started for the door. "I'm getting Matrinka."
Imorelda yowled and sprang from the bed.
"No," Tae said. "I'm not dying right now. At least not any faster than a moment ago. I need to tell you something; but, once I do, I won't have any right to request another hug. Ever."
Subikahn turned and studied his father. Tae looked awful: skin drawn over bones, sallow and sunken; but the eyes still contained plenty of life. The sound his father had made in his throat had nothing to do with breathing, only desperate concern that his son would judge him harshly. About what? Subikahn had a sudden, gripping feeling in his chest. He did not want to know, but he could stand the suspense even less. "What?" he asked carefully.
Tae gestured him closer, demanded the embrace.
Subikahn obliged, but he found it difficult to put much emotion into the gesture. If he squeezed too hard, he might worsen the injuries, and worry about the forthcoming news made him tentative. He stepped back. "Now, tell me."
"Subikahn." Tae's voice emerged surprisingly clear now, as if the embrace itself had cured him. "My one and only son."
Subikahn gritted his teeth but refused to speak.Words would only prolong the already interminable wait.
"Sentence was pronounced on Talamir."
All thought drained from Subikahn's head. "What?" The world seemed to disappear around him: sight, sound, touch. All that remained were the smells: blood and herbs, sickness and the aroma of flowers on the breeze from the windows. "Sentence… for what? What kind of sentence?"
"Talamir confessed to the rape, Subikahn. Freely and without coercion. In front of the entire court."
"Confessed?" The word confused Subik
ahn further. "But he didn't-" Subikahn tried again. "Tally didn't rape anyone; he couldn't. Why would he…?" Nothing made sense.
"Then, he mutilated two elite guardsmen and attempted to kill me. High treason, Subikahn. The sentence-"
Subikahn knew the obvious sentence, for either crime. What he could not grasp was Talamir admitting to having done such a thing, Talamir losing his sanity in the courtroom. Subikahn's mind drifted back to the fateful night that seemed so long ago. "If your love is real and strong," Tae had said, "it will survive two years of separation." Subikahn clung to that. "But you promised, Papa. You said that I could come back to Tally in two years, if our love survived."
Tae sighed. His head seemed to collapse into the pillow. "I'm sorry, Subikahn. Talamir is-"
"No!" Subikahn could not bear to hear the last word. "No!" The agony that descended upon him was so raw it pained him worse than any physical wound. "No! No! No!" He whirled without thinking, wrenched open the door, and darted from the room, nearly colliding with Matrinka. Without so much as a mumbled apology, he burst through the hallways, down the staircases, in a blind, deaf fog of anguish. He did not stop running until he found himself outside, with no memory of opening any doors or facing any guardsmen. There, he threw himself into the grass, alternately sobbing and screaming, ranting and melting, until all understanding became buried in a dark morass of impenetrable grief.
CHAPTER 45
A reasonable plan executed now is better than a perfect one next week.
-General Santagithi
A scarlet edge of sun burst over the horizon, its color bleeding across the dawn sky and blending through the rainbow spectrum to a dense and savage blue. The blare of horns greeted the new day, their notes crisp and triumphant, a battle cry from the once silent ships.
A smile eased onto Subikahn's face, the first show of emotion Saviar had noticed since his twin's return that night. The swollen, red-rimmed eyes had said enough, and the desperate violence that characterized his svergelse. Renshai vented with sword strokes instead of blustering or shouting or tears.Tae, Saviar surmised, was not doing well; and Subikahn had the look of a man prepared to die in glorious combat, more eager than ever to find Valhalla.
Flight of the Renshai fotr-1 Page 66
