Mickey Reichert - Flight of the Renshai

Subikahn finally broke the hush. "I've found true love, Papa. True love! Aren't you… happy for me?" *What's wrong?* Imorelda stopped purring.

For once, Tae ignored her. "But… he's a…"

"… Renshai?" Subikahn finished.

"… man," Tae corrected. "Talamir's a man." He turned his son a confused look. "Right?" He wondered if he had missed something. Renshai women worked so hard, they often developed musculature in ways other females never did. Hard arms and thighs, tight abdominal musculature, were the norm for Renshai. Even Ra-khir had mistaken Kevral for a boy the first several times he met her. Yet, she had eventually developed enough breast and curve to look like a hardened woman rather than a man. And Talamir was clearly no youngster. He appeared to be in his twenties, and Renshai routinely looked younger than their ages.

"Yes, Papa. Tally passed his testing ten years ago. He's definitely a man."

Tae did not know what else to say. He and his son were talking at cross-purposes. They might just as well be using different languages, except the conversation would still make more sense.Tae spoke every known tongue fluently. He did not care when or if Talamir had ever passed beyond Renshai adolescence. He wanted to know why his son was calling a grown man "lover" as if gender meant nothing. He could not understand how two males could confess to a hanging crime with enthusiasm and excitement. Execution. Dread enveloped him. Not Subikahn. Not my only son. Tears pressed Tae's eyes, and he did not trust himself to speak. *What's wrong?* Imorelda asked again; and, again, he ignored her.

Subikahn and Talamir exchanged serious glances. "I told you we needed to keep it secret," the older Renshai whispered. The acoustics of the room carried it to Tae's ears anyway. "I warned you not to say anything."

"He's my father," Subikahn hissed back. "The best man in the world, and he loves me."

The best man in the world. It was exactly what Tae had always wanted to hear his son say, yet it did not warm his heart this day. Something inside him had died, and he worried that he might never know another moment of joy in his existence. He forced himself to speak, saying the only words he dared. "Go to your quarters. I need some time alone to think."

Talamir bowed and left the room faster than decorum dictated. Subikahn opened his mouth to speak, then closed it. He started again, stopped, and sighed deeply before shuffling from the room as well.

Assailed by all the emotions shock had kept at bay, Tae buried his face in the cat and let them overtake him.

Grimly, King Tae Kahn walked the night hallways of Stalmize Castle, blind to the minute details he usually registered from habit. As a young man, survival had meant remaining attentive, even in sleep; and the need had stayed with him every moment of every day since. His torch threw wild shapes on the stonework, bringing shadows into vivid relief as he moved. That made him wildly uncomfortable. He would have preferred creeping through the darkness, unseen and unheard; but to do so, he had long ago learned the hard way, risked attack by his own guards. He noticed their every movement as they shifted to allow him free access, recognizing him in the hated, but necessary, torchlight.

Tae reached Subikahn's bedroom door sooner than he wanted. He stood there several moments in indecision. He had not eaten or slept since their conversation that morning. Nothing but his son's confession had found a toehold in his thoughts, and formulating his plan had taken precedence even over bodily functions. He believed in the choice he had made, yet he still hesitated. No course of action seemed right; yet doing nothing would be the worst decision of all.

Tae studied the door without seeing it, knowing the teak outline as well as the palm of his own hand. He had memorized every line in the grain, every knothole in the pattern, every stain. He had spent the happiest times of his adulthood here, cradling and singing to his infant son, romping with the boy he had become, listening to the details of his adolescence. No friendship had ever been forged more solidly. The world had never known a love so genuine and deep. Yet, soon, for the boy's own good, Tae would have to do the most hateful thing he could ever have imagined.

Tae's hand rose, as if of its own accord, and knocked solidly on the teak door.

For several moments, nothing happened. Tae had just released a pent-up breath when the panel edged open a crack and one sleepy brown eye peered through it. "Papa?" Subikahn said through a yawn. His black hair lay in a tangle around his face, and he wore only his blue satin sleeping pants. His chest looked sinewy, muscled but lightly built, like his father. "What time is it?"

"It's late," Tae admitted. "I need to talk to you. Please come."

Subikahn yawned again. "Just a moment." The door swung shut.

Tae heard muffled voices through the wood. Subikahn had always shared his room with his Renshai torke, even as a toddler. For the first time, Tae found himself despising the arrangement. Was this the first time a Renshai took advantage of my son? The idea enraged him. He had obliviously allowed adults to share a room with his boy; that made it partially his fault. That Kevral and the other Renshai trusted those teachers should not have been enough. Teeth gritted, Tae waited until the door finally swung open. A now-robed Subikahn scooted out and pushed it closed before Tae managed to catch a glimpse of Talamir.

Subikahn shook his head, worsening the tangle that comprised his hair. "Where are we going?"

"The library." Tae wanted to take the young prince as far from his bedroom and the court as possible. He did not want any sound to betray the other part of his plan. "We're going to the library." He headed off in the proper direction.

Subikahn followed, clutching his robe. "To talk."

"To talk," Tae confirmed.

"In the middle of the night."

"Apparently."

That shut down the conversation. Subikahn continued to trail Tae's brisk pace without speaking, and they both moved with a delicate, silent step down the hallways, up the tower steps, and to the heavy oak door to the library. There, they paused, while Tae tripped the latch.

"Is this about Talamir?" Subikahn said as they entered.

The library appeared different in the darkness. The window seat lay empty, striped by the light of moon and stars.The shelving looked like animals hulking in the shadows. As much from habit as concern, Tae scanned the area to ascertain that they were alone, using the torch to banish shadows from every corner and cubby. He saw nothing out of place, every book as he had left it, every shelf as it should appear. Finally, he extinguished the torch, laid it aside, and claimed the window seat. He motioned Subikahn to the chair from the reading nook.

The boy accepted the seat, spinning it around to face his father. "You know I love you, Papa. I didn't mean to upset you." He sat, ramrod stiff and clearly nervous.

"I know." Tae stared through the window. He could see the empty courtyard clearly in the light of the half-moon. He was obsessively cautious by nature and would not allow anyone to overhear this conversation.

"You like Talamir. Don't you?" Subikahn's face looked childlike in the moonlight.

Tae sucked in a deep breath and let it out slowly. "Not at the moment, no."

"Papa, it's not his fault-"

"Subikahn-"

"I'm as much to blame-"

"Subikahn! Listen to me."

The young prince fell silent.

"We're not here to talk about Talamir. We're here to talk about you."

Subikahn nodded, lips tightly pursed.

Tae glanced at his own scarred and callused hands, knowing he had to broach subjects with which he never wanted to burden his son. "Subikahn, I grew up much differently than you did."