“Uly is Samir to you, and you are Samir to Ryanac, right?”
Markis wanted to say no, but Ryanac had told him so once. He didn’t believe Ryanac had discussed his feelings with his mother, but he didn’t doubt Ditta’s intuition for a moment. When Ryanac said nothing, Markis gave an uncertain nod.
“If Ryanac became Samir to Uly, you would have a perfect triangle. With the three of you complete, you’d make peace with Tressa.”
His frown tightened in perplexity. “That’s ridiculous.” He wanted to take it back the moment he said it. He felt like a small boy who would never have said such a thing to this woman. Rather than tell him off, she raised her eyebrows.
“I’m just saying that you’re making this far more complicated than it has to be. For the Swithin, when a union of more than two happens, it’s because feelings are mutual for all concerned, but you two had feelings for each other before you found Uly, feelings that had not been allowed to run their natural course.”
Markis winced. He seemed to have developed the habit tonight, and the action reminded him of when Uly had been nothing more than a street thief. When he had first come to live with them, Uly had flinched at every little thing. The idea that Ryanac’s mother could make a king flinch would have been laughable if he were not the one doing it.
“Oh, we’re so open, but we don’t talk about what Shavar has to go through to take care of us all.” Ditta sounded far too amused. Was this where Ryanac got his strength and humour from?
What she said was true, though, and he had told Uly that once. Shavar were men of the royal line who could tap into the power of the comet. The Swithin way made love and sex open and uncomplicated, but they didn’t talk about Shavar-in-training needing to remain celibate because no one wanted to contemplate such a thing. Ryanac had turned that belief on its head. Markis couldn’t help but wonder what Ditta would think if she knew her son had seduced him against all the rules, even if he would be eternally grateful that the man had. If not, he would still be struggling to control the comet ‑‑ well, more than he was ‑‑ and he wouldn’t have a relationship with Uly. As for the complicated matter of love and sex, Uly had in turn messed that up for him.
“The point is, you and Ryanac never had the time you both needed.”
“We have had a lot of time since.” He felt his face warm again as he said it, but Ditta was far from embarrassed.
“A few months? You are making a fool of yourself talking like that.”
“Mother.” Ryanac spoke gently enough, but in warning.
“Oh, shut up! Don’t ‘Mother’ me.” She turned her attention back to Markis, who couldn’t help wondering how she knew he and Ryanac hadn’t been intimate for many years. “You two weren’t complete when you found Uly. What you feel for Uly is so intense, it’s like a shadow over the sun. It’s blocking what you feel for Ryanac.”
Markis shook his head.
“Don’t argue.” As Ryanac took a step forward, Ditta turned her head to him. “You lay a hand on me, boy, and you’ll regret it.”
Struggling to get over anyone calling Ryanac “boy,” Markis held a hand up in the air between them as though he could separate them with that simple gesture. All he needed was the two of them fighting over this. Ditta stared at him and sighed in apparent frustration.
“If you were all equal, you wouldn’t suffer any of this.”
“Tressa will never be equal to the rest of us.” He hated to say it, but realised the truth of it.
“Of course she won’t. Royalty marry out of duty. You love each other well enough and you will grow to love each other a great deal more, but you didn’t choose each other. Thankfully, you like each other enough for it to suffice. Once you’re certain of where you all stand and what you mean to each other, she will be free to seek her own happiness. It has nothing to do with you preferring men, as you seem to think I was accusing. If you had met the right woman at the right time, she might have been your Samir before Uly ever was, and if I were you, I would drop the concept entirely. This idea of Samir is outdated.”
Markis swallowed as he stared at her, aware of what she saw in his face. He couldn’t do it. Uly was his Samir, and there was nothing he could do about that.
“Think about it. Why do we do that? We allow ourselves more than one love, yet still search for that all important, all consuming passion with someone else. Uly’s your Samir, all right, because you’re drowning in him.”
“What if I want to?” The words slipped from his lips in a whisper.
“I would say well enough if my son weren’t caught up in the tide.”
“Mother, please.”
“Hush. All I’m saying is that if you two had been allowed to love at the right time in your life, then you would have been ready for Uly. You wouldn’t feel this dissent.”
Markis wanted to ask her how she knew such dissent existed, but he couldn’t, and it had nothing to do with being king.
“If Ryanac becomes Samir to Uly, then the three of you will have balance.”
Against his wishes, he could feel himself growing angry. Wanting to take the words back even as he said them, still they ground out between gritted teeth. “What if I don’t want him to be?”
Her eyes glittered. “That’s the rub, isn’t it? You want my son, but the question is, do you want him enough? You can glare at me all you want. You know I’m right. Those golden flecks in your eyes are all very pretty, but they hold no weight with me. You’re playing at being a happy family right now. Stop playing and be one. Now go.” She jerked her head towards the yard. “Go off to the barn until you cool down.”
* * * * *
Dismissed. Dismissed to the barn as if he were a little boy! The trouble was, he had gone.
Markis paced, raking his fingers through his hair until they snagged and loosened the braid. He looked up as Ryanac marched through the door. Not knowing what to do, but aware no one should see him looking like this, he tugged the clip from his hair and shook it partly out of the braid. His hair never tangled, but tonight everything had it in for him.
“Here.” Ryanac reached out, but Markis stepped back. His fingers pressed into his scalp under his hair; his arms were up and out to the sides. Certain he looked demented, Markis gazed at Ryanac from under his brow. He didn’t know what to say. He didn’t know how to make it right. His mouth felt dry; his heart pounded. He closed his eyes. The moment he did, Ryanac closed the gap, laced his hands through Markis’s arms, cradling his head to his chest. The man’s proximity reminded him of the last time they’d both stood here in the barn. That time he had knelt at Ryanac’s feet.
“I didn’t mean it,” Markis gasped out. He had, though. He had meant what he said, and Ryanac knew him too well to believe any different.
“Stop torturing yourself like this. We’ve been in each other’s minds. I know your heart. I knew it anyway, but the abyss confirmed it.”
Markis didn’t want to think about their sharing the strange place where the comet took his mind. He wasn’t sure he could do that again. It had served a purpose in their relationship and in helping him to control the comet, but it could become addictive, and he could lose himself in the sharing. They had decided to stop for now, and if they ever did it again, it wouldn’t be often, not until Markis truly had control of the comet, if he ever did, or until they found harmony.
“I know part of you wants to keep Uly to yourself, but you’ll find no peace in it.” His guard hesitated. “Not while I live.”
Markis looked up, his eyes wide and damp. He stared at his friend in undisguised horror. “Don’t say such things. Besides, I’ve shared Uly with you often enough.”
“Yes, you have, but you’ve always been there. He may come to me some nights to sleep, but you know that’s not about sex. Part of you wants to keep him away from everyone when you are not around.”
“That’s not…” He stopped, unsure what he had intended to say. That’s not true. That’s not Swithin. Either seemed appropriate.
“I hate that I’m hurting you. You’re Samir to me, and I should be Samir to you.” Ryanac’s hand clamped down on him when Markis tried to jerk away. He couldn’t break that strength without using the comet. With one hand clamped at the nape of his neck and one clutching his arm, he wasn’t going anywhere. Ryanac forced him to meet his gaze. “I hate that your duties stopped us becoming what we could have been.”
It was easy to note that Ryanac had referred to his duties, meaning Shavar, the Comet. Academy life had separated them, but that wouldn’t have kept them apart. Enforced celibacy had kept them apart for years while they slept only a few yards distant. More than a wall and a door had separated them, and all for nothing. Markis wanted to spit, but it wouldn’t rid him of the bitter taste in his mouth. “I sometimes wonder if I hadn’t found Uly, if you and I…”
Ryanac gave him a little shake. “Don’t be stupid. My mother already called you a fool. Without Uly, you wouldn’t have let yourself love anyone. We would be living as we were, enjoying each other’s company and never being honest about how we feel even while knowing it. My mother’s right, though she didn’t say it well enough. Don’t you see?” A shadow made the guard’s eyes so dark they looked almost black, apart from one pinprick of light. Markis couldn’t look away from them. “If I became Samir to Uly, it wouldn’t take him away from you. I would never do that, even if I could. If that happened, we three would become Samir to each other. That’s what my mother was trying to say. We would be complete, and then even Tressa would have her rightful place with us. There would be no pretence.”
Markis blinked. Slowly, he dropped his gaze, taking in what Ryanac had said. The grip lessened; Ryanac jerked him forward, gave him a rough kiss on the forehead, and then let go.
“You look a mess,” he said, and Markis let loose a brief laugh. Those large, firm fingers began to work out his braid and comb through his hair in place of a brush. Finally, Ryanac gathered Markis’s hair into a tail and used the clip to fasten it at the nape of his neck. “I like your hair loose best of all, but if not, then I like it like this. It suits you more than the braid.”
“Now you tell me,” Markis said, “after I’ve been wearing it this way all these years.” He wasn’t just talking about his hair, though. Ryanac drew him back against his chest.
“You don’t have to pretend with me. I want your pain as well as your joy and your pleasure.”
Markis took a moment, lifting his hand to touch the back of Ryanac’s and stroking the flesh. “What you say makes sense,” he said. “The trouble is how we are to accomplish it. I don’t like the thought of manipulating Uly like that.”
“We don’t manipulate him. It happens, or it doesn’t. I won’t guide him.” A wry grin broke out over the guard’s face as Markis turned in his arms in surprise. “If I do, his feelings won’t be genuine. I don’t want his love if it isn’t real.”
They would have to accept it might not happen, then. “We might never be complete,” Markis said.
“True. Would you give up what we have, though?”
Markis drew in a breath and let it out, shuddering as he did. “I would never have believed it could hurt so much to love someone.”
“Shaylah,” Ryanac said. It was an insult in the old tongue. It meant blind, or someone who refused to see the truth. “You and I have hurt for too many years to play that game.”
Chapter Four
“Does that conclude the affairs of state for today?” Markis scanned the council chamber. Most of the men present nodded. A few exchanged glances. Stargazer stood up and approached the podium from which he would address the room.
“There is a small matter,” the old man said. He cleared his throat then, his almost milky-white gaze gliding over the room. They shared a history, an unpleasant one. As the most powerful of his father’s sons, Markis had acquired the best of the seers and advisers. Stargazer had been the one in charge of his training. Markis had always suspected, and personal experience had confirmed, that Stargazer was too heavy with the lash and other punishments. The old man had a tendency to bully that did not sit well with their new king. Alas, the old man held a lot of sway.
“You have now taken your…rightful seat.” The pause was hardly noticeable, but did not escape the king’s attention. “The king…” Again, the old man cleared his throat. “Excuse me. Alas, your father has left us, and his burial is complete. We feel it best that our lives settle as soon as possible. That is why I feel it is my duty to mention the subject of serelia.”
Markis tightened his jaw. He remained motionless. To his right, Ryanac might as well have been a statue. Tressa, seated at his left, displayed no outward emotion, but she lightly tapped her fingers against the arms of the seat, indicating her puzzlement. They had set up a few such signals. Markis was having trouble responding to this one. He feared what might emerge if he opened his mouth. He didn’t need to see his reflection to know his gaze had gone flat and dull. The trouble was, Stargazer probably recognised the signs by now. Most would fear Markis’s temper, but not Stargazer, not here in a room full of people.
“We will not discuss this,” Markis finally managed to say. Perhaps that wasn’t the wisest choice, but he could have chosen worse words. Stargazer spread his hands before gripping the podium again. It might have been a gesture of defeat, or it might speak to the rest of the assembly: “See, what did I tell you?” No doubt Stargazer had predicted his reaction.
Markis glanced about the room, moving only his eyes, and only as much as necessary.
“We feel that as you have…breached protocol before we advised, now is as good a time as any.”
The old man meant that Markis had a sex life against the wishes of the council. Markis was sorely tempted to reply that he thoroughly enjoyed breaching protocol.
“I believe your king told you this was not up for discussion.” Pride won out upon hearing Tressa’s supporting words. Tressa had no idea what they were talking about, and he could think of no way of telling her without blurting it out. That would let the rest of the assembly know of her ignorance, and it would probably shock her. Yet she hid her lack of knowledge and spoke up in support.
“Forgive me.” Stargazer gave a slight bow. He may have intended it for both of them, or either. His next sentence he definitely aimed at Markis, though. “We feel that perhaps it might help to…calm things down. It might make our queen feel more settled, make her feel that this is her home.”
Tressa’s hand tightened around the arm of the chair. From a distance, the movement was likely inconspicuous. This wasn’t a signal, just a genuine gesture of concern.
“Your queen not only knows this is now her home, she is happy here. There is nothing that needs calming down, and I would thank you not to speak of my wife as though she is not in the room.”
A whisper went through the crowd at the reprimand. Once again, Stargazer gave a slight bow, this time only with his head. “My most sincere apologies. I realise that these matters are delicate.”
“So delicate that perhaps they should not be discussed in council,” Tressa said.
Markis smiled. Tressa had chosen her words carefully. No one but he and Ryanac would know she hadn’t a clue what they discussed.
“I beg to differ, my…queen. Anything that involves the future of our race should be open for honest discussion.”
“The…future” ‑‑ Markis stressed the word ‑‑ “is hardly at stake.”
“And if something should happen to you?”
Damn. By the comet, Tressa had to have gleaned the idea by now. He would have preferred the opportunity to speak to her alone.
“I have two brothers.”
Stargazer grimaced and lowered his head. His movements were well-timed and chosen. “Alas for us, your brothers are not as strong.” The double meaning wasn’t lost on Markis. Stargazer would have preferred another on the throne. Stargazer now raised his head and looked around, catching the eye of every man and woman in the room. Unsure if he could see th
at far, still Markis had to acknowledge it didn’t matter if the man could see beyond the end of his nose. His purpose had been to draw every eye towards him.
“What makes the comet?” Stargazer began, as though addressing a classroom of students. “What makes a man Shavar?” He turned his attention back to Markis as though he indeed needed to lecture their king. “Elements of the comet run in the blood. A comet fell upon the world and only one man walked free. That first person did not fare well, as many believe. He died within two years, and if he had not fathered a child, the comet’s power may have died with him. There would be no Shavar. There would be no one here.”
Pure nonsense; surely, the others could see that. Even without that survivor, others had been out of range. They would still exist as a people, and they would still need to govern the populace. Stargazer spoke as though to children. Did the others here believe that without Shavar they had no purpose?
“That child suffered many ailments for the rest of his life, as did his children and his children’s children. Gradually, though, things changed as they so often do with time. Instead of growing weak, descendants became strong. Yet it is usually the firstborn son that is the strongest, and Lerai had only one brother who died young.”
This was true. Markis’s grandmother had died giving birth to a third son, and shortly after, her husband followed her to the grave, possibly due to grief. Markis’s father had taken the throne sooner than he’d ever anticipated, which was partly why Markis forgave the man his bad temperament. Due to these events, Markis could understand why the subject of offspring was troubling to the Swithin, but it was unfair for Stargazer to use it to stir discontent, and Markis was certain that was the man’s only reason to mention it here and now.
“The power diminishes in those further away from the direct royal line. Only the king’s sons become Shavar with the eldest taking the throne. So it has always been.” Stargazer had turned in a slow circle as he said this last. Now he came back to face the front and stared at the throne. “And now there is you.”
The Swithin Chronicles 3: The Comet Cometh Page 6
