80 - Is There a Sucking-Kiss Mark on My Neck?

“I’ll get it,” Kyrus said. “I’m closest.” The inner door was wide open for the summer, as were all the windows and Kyrus still had his tea-cup in his hand when he opened the door to see two very properly veiled Lainz feather-spitters standing there. “Hello---” His voice cut off as he saw them.

Their livery was the dark blue-black and gold of the Imperial Hive-birds, the screaming war-bird in gold on their chests, swords just perfectly so, a cascade of feathers of honour woven into the one sides of their heads interspersed with crystal spacer beads. The young man, high-born, with the perfectly smooth brown skin and brilliantly bright eyes showing over his black veil, just lowered his hand where he’d been about to knock a second time. He had the gold bees marking his rank on his chest, a Emir-al. The older man behind had the single drone of a working Amir, his shrewed old eyes taking in every detail, even as he stood, casually, perfectly placed to defend his officer should it become necessary.

“Oh, Nasers!” Kyrus flipped up the edge of his collar to hide his face. “I’m sorry, Nasers, the surdeniliarch is unavailable.”

“So we were given to understand, lad,” the one said. “I’m Emir-al Shaidan Raghnall and I am looking for a boy by the name of Kyrus.”

“Oh.” He clenched his teeth. This could be nothing good. Two Hive-birds come looking for a Basin whore? A boy with no last name? His stomach clenched as he thought of all the other ways out of the house, should he need them.

“Nasers... that would be me.” Haraklez came up behind him and he could see the two of them look as she laid a hand on his shoulder. He could feel himself blushing as he realized he had no clothes on under his bedrobe at all, his forelock falling into his eyes and... oh Light and Dark has Hara left a sucking-kiss mark... a passion burn... visible on my neck?

“Is there a problem, Nasers’?” She said in her flawless, highest Loggia accented Lainz.

“No problem, Nasera.” The Emir-al bowed to her as if she were a properly dressed lady instead of a half-naked, dishevelled and bare-faced hoyden, smelling of sex and griddle cakes. “We merely wish to speak to Kyrus, here. Might we come in?”

Kyrus backed up as Hara, the Surdeniliarch’s daughter, took over like a great lady, showing the two Hive-birds in. “Maks, Ilia, go get dressed, please. Would you gentlemen care to be seated while Kyrus makes himself fit for company?” Lovely hint, heart’s dear. I tried not to look like I was rushing. The window in Hara’s bedroom is too small for me to climb out and there are no windows back here big enough to offer escape, unseen.

He threw his robe and slippers off, dragged on a fresh suit of clothes with frantic, fumble fingers… tunic and trousers in the Milari style and my veil… where is my veil? I’d put them away… I’d stored them… veil, veil. Oh Dark! It’s in the bottom of my pack in the cupboard under the shoes… I dragged a comb through my hair once, twice, throw on the face covering and immediately feel like I'm donning armour and propriety. There’s a raw spot that my collar rubbed on before covering it up. What do they want? Why do they want to talk to me?

In the main room, he could hear the murmur of voices.  He paused to catch his breath and overheard the young Emir-al say “… a matter of inheritance.” Inheritance? What? What?But they are the highest of the high. What kind of inheritance could there be for… father… oh… oh no… is my grandfather dead?

He stepped out, dressed, veiled and with soft boots on. “Emir-al. Amir. I am here.”

“Good.” Hara stood up from where she’d been sitting. “I’ll be out in a moment. There’s more breakfast, and tea, Nasers.”

The Emir-al stood as she did, as did the Amir. She is such a politician’s daughter it’s not funny. It’s even hard to see that she’s not properly dressed. She stopped to kiss him on the way by. He wanted to cling to her lips like a man clinging to the cliff edge by his fingertips. Thank you, my love. Oh Light and Dark, don’t stop loving me no matter what these feather-spitters say. He had no idea what they were there for so every fear he had came out and was chewing on him hard. Da, I hate to bother you in your time of honey, but I need you. Da, help me.

“You are Kyrus… bastard son of the deceased champion, Kyrus Talain?” The Emir-al wasted no time beginning, even as he sat down.

“I am proud to be so, yes Naser.”

“Your mother was a whore of the Basin by the name of Dagdohva, no surname?”

“I am honoured to be her son, yes.” Kyrus stared into his eyes, daring him to challenge on that. He could sense the Amir pricking up at that and spared a glance to him. “Anyone may say what they will. Any slighting of my honourable mother, dishonours me, Amir, Emir-al. I must insist your tongues be respectful of my honoured mother.”

“Oh. Of course. No insult intended, young Naser.”

“Good. Please continue.” The Amir’s attention, if anything, sharpened rather than diminished.

“You were the young ‘patron’ of a scholar by the name of Oltarios?”

“Before I answer, I must know, what consequences will fall upon his head?” He could feel his jaw set.  He didn’t like the trend of this conversation.  My asking that question is pretty much an admission as well.

“None. None, young Naser.” Kyrus stared at him and wondered. He couldn’t be sure, the law redeeming a one-time sexual deviant was barely old enough to have dry ink and the tradition ran decades deep.

“I will refuse to answer any question that implicates the honourable scholar.”

The Emir-al stared at Kyrus. Kyrus glared back. Oltarios had taught him, helped him, given him what he’d needed to fulfil his dreams. He’d even taught Kyrus to accept that sex with an older man was no shame. He was my mentor and my friend no matter what hold he’d given me over him. In Lainz, the old men… even if they had the money, the influence… they were the vulnerable ones and if a young whore were abused they could have their patron placed in a cage merely by opening his mouth. It was a system open to horrific abuse and needed to be changed. I was lucky. Oltarios was a good man.

The Emir-al took a deep breath. “Of course.”

Ky caught a fraction of a blink from the Amir and focused on him, for some reason. “Amir?”

“Yes, Naser?”

“Why do you need to ask me these questions?” Ky felt like he had to cut to the heart of it. “Why? I am Kyrus Talain, son of Kyrus Talain, a man whom the moa-lords… and you know exactly which one I am speaking of… destroyed. Why are Lainz Feather-Spitters coming to question the son of a man discarded by the Empire?”

“Naser,” the old Amir was looking very intensely at him. “There is a reason.”

“Amir.” Ky found himself staring at him in a way he could lay no reason to. As if it was the Amir who must be convined of something rather than the higher officer. “You seem to need answers from me. If you give me assurances that my mother and my patron are not harmed… and convince me of your sincerity… you will have your answers. Otherwise I will place myself as a shield before them. They are vulnerable, having given me all they had. I owe them and will not deliver them to shame or degradation in any way. Convince me, or I will answer none of your questions.”

The Emir-al coughed, nonplussed. The Amir -- damn his eyes -- smiled. “Of course, Kyrus. Of course.”

“There is no ‘of course’ in this.” Kyrus crossed his arms across his chest. This Feather-Spitter can go screw if he didn’t give me answers that I needed. I feel Hara’s hand ghost onto my shoulder. She’ll be perfectly dressed. I dont’t need to look. I had my family. I have my brothers and sisters and heart’s dear and wing brother and my father. Who has just married his love, the love of his heart. These featherspitters aren’t going to pull that apart if I have anything to say about it. If it kills me. I’ve found honour. I’ve found my father and my blood. I have found a place to put my feet.

“Answer me, Feather-spitter, or you get nothing from me.”

The Emir-al coughed. He looked at the Amir and then back. 

“Kyrus.”

“Talain.” He cut in. My Da’s acknowledged me and that’s my name. This oyuck eater isn’t going to steal it from me.

“Naser.” The Amir spoke up as his superior officer floundered. “It may have to do with more than just your mother and your patron. Do you care about more Lainz than those two?”

Kyrus stared at him. “Every Lainz is important.” He bared his teeth at him in a not-smile. “If you, Naser, think that ANY Lainz is less important then I shall have to disagree with you.” Why did that seem to make him happy? Kyus shook his head.  Nothing they’d said had reassured him in the slightest.  They just kept asking more questions.

“Feather-spitters.” Kyrus snapped. “I hope you have enough,” he said and stood up. “Enough is enough. You are delving into people’s privacy and security and that is enough. That is where I draw the line. Ask your questions of someone else or not at all.”

“Ummmm.” The Emir-al seemed stumped. He looked at the Amir, who smiled, just as Kyrus realized that there would be a private questioning from the old man, later. 

“Emir-al. Thank you for your time and attention. I will speak with you again. Thank you.”

“Kyrus.” He coughed. “Thank you.”

“I will be here.” Kyrus said and offered a bland face against their intrusive questions. “If you wish, I am here.”

“Ah.” The Emir-al rose to his feet. “All right. I see. Thank you Naser Talain.”

He acknowledges me as ‘Talain’.