60715- Sang « Thread Started on Jul 8, 2009, 4:44pm »
Taman walked slowly down the stone hallway, careful not to let the awkward gait caused by the uneven stones of the hall overly agitate the glass he carried. He was a rather small boy for such a large place. He was nearly thirty five, but physically still a very young boy and a good ways off from puberty. Barely five feet tall, he was also on the thin side, and his milky white skin was nearly translucent in the light of the torches along the walls. His hands trembled as he held the cup, not from any sort of nervousness or fear, but because he was sickly and weak. He sighed when he finally reached the large oak door, and knocked twice. The deep, distracted voice cut its way through the thick door as if it were made of air. “Enter.” Taman bit his lip and shouldered the door open carefully, still minding the cup. “Dinner, father.” Adrian the Eldest, still absorbed in his reports, motioned to an empty spot on his desk. “Just set it down.” He drawled, pushing a long lock of ebony and silver hair behind his ear. Taman made his way quickly across the carpeted floor of the office. “Yessir.” He said, finally putting down the cup with relief. “Can Ah get you anything else, milord?” “No, child, you’re dismissed.” “Thank you, father.” Taman said, bowing briefly before turning to leave. Adrian the Eldest watched him go, his blue eyes piercing the candle-lit gloom. The boy was neither cruel nor strong, traits Adrian expected in his sons. However he was also obedient, polite, and non-ambitious, the other traits Adrian valued. He was a handsome child, despite the death-pale skin the Sang dynasty was prone to, with vibrant mismatched eyes of blue and green. His pitch black hair fell in straight past his shoulders, forming a sharp contrast and framing his delicately pointed features. When he grew up -if Adrian let him grow up- Taman might even be handsome enough to displace Inald, Adrian’s sixth born son, as the dynasty’s playboy. Of his a hundred and fifty-something children, twenty or so had either been stillborn or died at the young age due to complications from inbreeding. Of those alive, Taman was both the youngest and most pure of blood. He already displayed a truly impressive amount of magical power, and better yet, control. The boy’s mother, Sialle, was Adrian’s fourth-born daughter. Sialle, while magically powerful, had absolutely no control over her magic, though whether that was a defect of its own or merely a side-effect of her complete and utter idiocy was a complete mystery. Another complication of inbreeding. Translucent or pale skin/hair, ocular albinism or odd colorations, blindness, retardation, malformations, weak hearts/lungs/limbs, lack of magical control, and even lack of magic itself were some of the birth defects that affected most of his children. But better these than allowing his dynasty to be tainted by lesser blood. Those of his brood who did have and could control magic were among the greatest mages in the entire world. Inald was one of these. Adrian turned his head slightly, glancing at the few chairs that had their backs turned to the door. “Inald. Fetch Sialle for me. I think we should have a little talk about her son.” Inald stood from the chair he had been lazing in and stretched. He, unlike most of his other siblings, did not have semi-translucent skin. Nor did he have the sort of milky pale sort that Taman and a few others did. Instead the lovely Inald’s skin was the solid snowy color of an albino. His hair was the same shade, and his eyes were a light pink, completing the picture. “You sure you don’t want me to just snap his neck? He’s rather sickly, father.” Inald drawled sleepily. “Did I ask for your input or did I give you an order?” Adrian snapped. Inald was at the door in a second. “Apologies, father.” And then disappeared. Adrian snorted. He was starting to get tired of Inald again. The boy had been given Lady Adele’s former kingdom to run, but he was too lazy to do anything other than feed and fuck so Lucian had taken the kingdom from him and given it to some other prince. So Inald was back, leeching off of Adrian’s court and hanging about as useless as ever. One of the disadvantages of carefully raising his children to be non-ambitious and killing the ones who became ambitious anyways. Sialle, as stupid as she was, was at least useful. She was fertile, and had a nice sadistic streak that kept her outside the palace most of the time, terrorizing whatever place Adrian told her needed to be terrorized. Taman was the sixteenth child she had born Adrian, but only the eighth to survive past the age of three. A gentle knock came at the door, pulling the old warlord from his reveries. “Come.” Sialle opened the door a little and slipped gracefully through, then leaned back on the door to close it in Inald’s face. “You asked for me, father?” she asked, her royal drawl saccharine as she combed a hand through her white hair. “It’s about your son.” Adrian said, not in the mood for what he usually called her for. She frowned, slumping against the door. “Huh? What’d ReRe do now?” she asked, her blue eyes instantly filled with confusion. “Not Reule, Taman.” Adrian clarified. She continued frowning as she walked forwards and dropped herself into a chair facing his desk. “Tammy? Whaddabout’im? ‘e didn’t die while I wasn’t lookin’ did ‘e?” Adrian put a hand to his forehead, a headache already starting to form. “No, Sia. I just wanted to know how he’s progressing.” He looked her over. “If you know.” “Oh. Yeah, sure I do. ‘e’s, uh, ‘e’s workin’is way through the ‘istory books pretty quick, but ‘e keeps lookin’ at the ones in the library and askin’ me questions about ‘em bein’ different from th’ones in the schoolroom. Crazy little brat.” Sialle said, examining her nails. Adrian’s expression twitched slightly. He had known Taman was one of the smarter ones, but he hadn’t had any idea the child was actually intellectual. “And math?” Sia laughed. “’e’s farther than me.” Adrian sighed. That was entirely unhelpful, Sialle had problems adding and subtracting properly. “Is he farther than Inald?” “Eh. I don’t think so, but ‘e doesn’t seem interested in math. Likes those ‘istory books more.” Adrian looked away. He’d have to do a set of tests himself then, to see how the boy was, and take those books out of the library. His children only needed to know the past as he told it. Other viewpoints were unacceptable. He took a long sip of the blood Taman had brought before returning his attention to Sialle. “Does he have a bloodpet?” Sialle brightened. “Oh, yes!” she said, obviously proud of completing this matronly task. “Got ‘im a nice little were-cat last year.” Her smile faltered. “But I don’t think ‘e’s using her. When I ‘ave dinner with ‘im the servants always bring ‘im a glass from the kitchen like ‘e’s a little baby.” Adrian sent her a dry look, holding his own glass. She quickly backpedaled. “I mean ‘e only drinks from a cup.” She tried. He continued the look. “I don’t know what I mean.” She said, sinking deeper into the chair. Adrian set the glass down. “From now on I don’t want anyone bringing him meals. If he wants to drink out of a glass have him draw it from his bloodpet himself.” He sent her an annoyed look. “Some find the act of biting another creature to be rather crass and childish, Sialle.” “Yessir.” She mumbled, looking appropriately chastised. Adrian leaned back in the chair. “Take him out next time you go out in the country.” He sent her a sharp look. “And make sure he wears the proper protection from the sun! I do not want his skin blackening and peeling off because you didn’t look after him.” Sialle sunk deeper in her chair. “Ah only let that ‘appen once, an’ it was only Rosie.” She mumbled apologetically. “Do try and be more attentive of him, Sialle. Being raised by lower classes like servants makes one soft.” “I know.” She admitted, practically disappearing into her chair. “I just ain’t any good at mothering is all.” “Yes, well, I doubt I shall need any more children for a while, and when I do I’ll use one of your younger sisters. Just make sure Taman makes it to adulthood as a proper Sang and you won’t have to worry about it anymore.” She brightened. “Yessir!” She bit her lip and stood slowly. “Is there anything else milord?” He considered her a moment, but then shook his head. “Tell Inald to go away. I need to think for a bit and it’s hard to do when you children are around.” Sialle curtsied and left. “Father says ‘e wants to be alone.” She said over her shoulder as the door shut, trying to casually saunter past Inald. He grabbed her wrist and moved into her way. “What did he want with you?” he asked; his usually drooping eyes alarmingly sharp. She tried to pull away gently. “Wants me to be a better mother to Tammy is all.” She drawled, taking a step back. He yanked her towards him. “I don’t think he meant right this minute sister. Why don’t we have a bit of fun first?” Sialle stiffened and her expression shifted. “ ‘m not on th’ herbs right now.” She said in a low tone. That made him pause. While younger than her, as a male he had more standing in the dynasty hierarchy, so she had to obey any orders he gave. But Adrian was the only male allowed to father children, and the few that Inald had managed had been instantly killed. Despite his ruthless nature, something deep within him screamed at seeing his own destroyed. That and father had punished him severely for disobedience. He reluctantly let go of her wrist. The risk was too great. She snorted and turned on her heel “I gonna go check Tamtam now.” ----- Rhyann was pretty. With her long, fluffy silver hair and tail, and her bright blue eyes. She was very young, so young, in fact, she still had her cat-like ears instead of humanoid ones. Taman was decently sure that thinking she was pretty was against his father’s rules. Not only was she a were-cat, she wasn’t royal. As far as anyone else in the family knew, that made her less than a person, less than an animal even. Taman, however, found it hard to think of her as inferior when she was so smart and funny. Secretly, when no one was watching, they were friends. They played chess, checkers, and read children’s stories together. It seemed to upset her how sickly he was, how he was almost always sitting or laying down. She wanted to play, and he simply couldn’t keep up with her. He had not understood, until now, why he wasn’t supposed to be friends with her. “But… is there something wrong with the blood from the kitchen?” He asked meekly. Sialle sighed, draping herself over the back of his chair. “Nope, but she’s your bloodpet. You’re supposed to drink from ‘er. That’s why I got ‘er for you.” Taman bit his lip, not wanting to upset his mother by being contradictory. “Ah don’t want to hurt her.” She tisked, giving him a little hug. “Aww, you’re such a little sweet’eart. Don’t you worry ‘oney, like I said, it’s what she’s for. It’s not like I’m telling you tha’ you ‘ave to kill her. Father even said you can still drink from a cup if you don’t want to bite her.” She pulled out a knife and picked up his cup. “Want me to show you?” Rhyann stared at the knife with wide-eyed horror. “No!” Taman shouted, standing. His mother stared at him. He coughed and sat down again. “Ah… ah’m not hungry at the moment, mother.” “Mmmhm.” She said, her eyes narrowed. She set the knife down on his desk. “Alright. Fine, I’ll be nice about it. I’m gonna leave this right ‘ere, and I’m going to tell the servants they aren’t to bring you any more blood or ‘elp you with this. When you get ‘ungry.” She stood and shot forwards, grabbing Rhyann by the wrist and yanking the cat-girl forwards into her arms. “You make a cut right ‘ere.” She said, ignoring the girl’s frightened scream as she showed Taman the girl’s inner arm and traced a diagonal line a little ways above the wrist. “And you ‘old ‘er arm over the cup. If it takes longer than a minute to fill the cup then the angle wasn’t steep enough, but for the god’s sake don’t cut straight down.” She released Rhyann with a lazy smile. “And then you use a bit of healing magic to close up the wound, mmkay?” Taman swallowed as Rhyann fled across the room. “Yes, mother.” Sialle smiled and brushed a kiss on his forehead. “And you study too, mmkay? Father got all excited when ‘e ‘eard ‘ow smart you are. Just keep to the books in the school’ouse, eh?” “Yes, mother.” Taman said in a low voice. “Tha’s my good boy.” She said affectionately, smoothing his long hair back. She smiled. “It’s so nice to have a sweet’eart around. All the other boys ‘ere are so rough and mean. Just you be careful about how you treat that kitten around your brothers and father. If they notice you bein’ so sweet to ‘er they’ll get rough with ‘er, okay?” He smiled at her, glad that, while she probably didn’t understand, she was being nice. “Okay.” She patted him on the head and then turned and sauntered out, closing the door behind her. He waited a few heartbeats, and then his smile died. “Rhy?” She peeked her head out from the table she had hidden under. “You wouldn’t really hurt me, would you?” she asked shyly, with her odd, quick accent. When she spoke it always sounded as if she were in a hurry to do something, and her words always ended so abruptly. Then again, when he had asked her about it she had told him he was the one with the funny accent, and that he spoke intolerably slow, as if he were always about to fall asleep. “Ah don’t want to.” He said, sinking down into his chair a bit. She scowled at him and sunk back into her hiding place. “That’s not an answer. Promise you won’t or I won’t come out.” He stared at her. “But… you won’t let me?” he asked, hurt. She poked her head back out. “Won’t let you? Of course I won’t let you cut me! Are you crazy?” He looked away, feeling guilty. “But… what if Ah get hungry? She said the servants won’t bring me blood anymore. D’ya want me to stahve?” he asked plaintively. There was a faint flash of guilt on her face, and she yanked her head back into her hiding place. “Friends don’t hurt their friends.” She said stubbornly. “Hunger hurts.” He mumbled, flicking his book closed. She didn’t answer. “Ah won’t make you do anything you don’t want to.” He finally said, stiffly. She slowly emerged but stayed on the other side of the room. “You promise?” He didn’t look up. “Ah promise.” She slowly snuck across the room and sat down opposite him. She studied him for a moment, then looked at the chessboard off to the side. She moved a piece. “Mate.” He stood abruptly and knocked over his king. “Ah forfeit.” He said hollowly, picking up his schoolbook and walking away.
Three days later, while doing a test Adrian had given him, he fainted. When he awoke, it was to the sound of shouting. “How could you let this happen?” Adrian hissed. Sialle, one hand covering the cheek he had just backhanded, let out a small sob. “I-” “I told you to take better care of him!” Adrian shouted, still hissing. “Did you even listen?” “I told ‘im ‘ow!” She howled, flinching away. “I thought ‘e’d do it when ‘e got ‘ungry enough!” “You incompetent bitch!” Adrian swore at her, his drawl quickened almost to Rhyann’s speech. Taman’s eyes flicked open. He could taste blood in his mouth, and licked his lips, hoping for a few more drops. “Ruurmm?” He asked incoherently. Adrian turned on him. “Oh good. He’s still alive.” He shot Sialle a look. “No thanks to you.” He turned away and grabbed something. “I am going to fix this problem right now. Hold him down if he struggles.” Sialle let out a small whine. “I’m so sorry, Tamtam.” She mumbled low, brushing his hair out of his face. “I’m so sorry I’m such a ‘orrible mum.” Taman writhed a little, his weakened clairvoyance and empathic abilities telling him something was wrong. “No, ‘old still.” She told him, pressing down on his shoulder. “Shh, you’ll upset father.” She said in a panicked whisper. There was another whimper, but it didn’t come from Sialle. Taman turned his head, searching out the sound, and to his horror saw Adrian lifting a bound and gagged Rhyann up from the floor. Her shirt was ripped and her shoulder was bloody. He spasmed as the heady scent got closer and started taking over his brain. “Mmmm?” Adrian dropped her on the bed next to Taman, her bloody shoulder near his mouth, and viciously struck Rhyann on the head. “Hold still you stupid creature!” he hissed. Taman turned his face away and closed his eyes, trying to fight off the smell. “Nnng!” Adrian swore and slapped him. “Stubborn child!” Taman heard Rhyann let out a muffled scream, and almost instantly the smell of fresh blood reached his nose. He gasped and arched his back, fighting off his mother’s grip. “Let him go. I think that did it.” The words barely registered as Taman thrashed over onto his other side and grabbed at the source of the smell, and then dug his teeth in. He instinctively released venom, and within moments her panicked struggling stopped as she was paralyzed. He released his bite and started hungrily licking at the now freely-bleeding wound. Sialle let out a small sob as she watched his feral actions. Adrian, annoyed, slapped her again. “It’s your own fault, woman! This is utterly disgraceful! He looks like a wild animal, not a Sang!” She howled, though this was more from the words and the sight of her son than from the slap. Taman came back to himself slowly, trembling. He wiped his mouth and stared in horror at the paralyzed Rhyann. He sat up and reached out a hand to cover her shoulder, intending to heal the wound, but Adrian grabbed him by his queue and yanked him away. Taman let out a small whimper, but didn’t shout. “Get that cat out of here.” Adrian snapped at Sialle, drawing his dagger. “Don’t ‘urt him! Please!” Sialle begged, throwing her arms around his chest. Adrian shook her off. “Don’t be an idiot. Do as I say.” Sobbing she scooped up Rhyann and fled from the room. Adrian made a small sound of disgust and twisted Taman’s head by his hair, forcing the boy to look at him. “You are a disgraceful, weak, pitiful little child.” He snarled. “Your actions are not that of a Sang. Until they are, consider yourself disgraced.” He pronounced, bringing the knife towards his other hand and yanking it upwards through the fistful of long ebony hair, then shoved Taman forwards, back onto the bed. “From now on you will be under my direct tutelage. Any time you are not with me you will be locked in your room. Your bloodpet will be chained in here, and you will feed from her and only her three times day. If you disobey me you will be thrown into the dungeon for a couple of days without food and I will personally snap the neck of your little bloodpet. Do you understand?” Taman sniffed, not looking up. “Yessir.” Adrian tossed the queue onto the bed. “Get some sleep. I’ll summon you in the morning.” He snarled, turning on his heel and storming out. Taman watched him go silently, and then hesitantly looked up and into the mirror on the wall opposite his bed. His skin had taken on an unhealthy, almost yellowish hue, and his eyes were underlined by dark bags. He raised his hand to touch his hair. It was longer in the front than the back, and the cut was uneven and choppy. He felt slightly numb inside. He had promised. He had broken his promise. Sialle returned an hour later with Rhyann, who had been healed, cleaned up, collared, and given a sedative. Taman watched dully as the cat girl was placed on her little bed in the corner and chained to it by her collar. He stared at her the entire time his mother fussed over him and tried to even out the cut of his short hair and make it more attractive. When she finally left, still sniffling, he laid down and slept. He would wake Rhy at midnight, and get her out of the palace. Out of Ys. Then he would come back and be punished. If he survived, that is. The Sang dynasty was not terribly well liked, and his skin was a dead giveaway. Not to mention that if he didn’t get back before dawn the sun’s burning light might just kill him in this weakened state. He failed to summon up any emotion at this possibility. It was not that he actually wanted to die, or would seek it out, he just didn’t feel the least bit upset that it could happen. Rhyann woke on her own an hour later, and instantly started screaming at him. “You promised! You stupid, horrible little leech! Don’t you dare come near me! I’ll claw your eyes out!” Taman covered his head with the pillow and tried to go back to sleep. ----- Getting her out of the palace was the hardest part, not because of guards or siblings, but because she simply wouldn’t listen to him long enough for him to explain what he intended to do. In the end he had to knock her out and carry her. She was heavy, and he staggered somewhat under her weight, but he gritted his teeth and forced his way through it. When he set her down on the cool rocks of the inner-most wall of the castle to catch his breath, he looked around with instant fascination at the cityscape on the outer side. He finally looked away, and at the downward winding stairs of the wall’s staircase. Why did the section of the castle he lived in have to be five floors above the nearest ground. He had managed to carry her several hundred yards of mostly-flat corridors, but there was no way he’d be able to carry her down the steps without dropping her. Sighing, he knelt down and touched the center of her forehead, sending a small wave of psychic energy into her brain to rouse her. Her face twitched and then her eyes slowly opened. He smiled awkwardly at her, and nearly fell backwards off the wall’s catwalk with the slap she delivered to him. She scrambled to her feet, swearing, and darted down the stairs. He winced, touching his cheek, and watched her go. There was no possible way for him to catch up with her. He closed his eyes, praying that she was smart enough and fast enough to get out of the city before dawn. After a few moments of silent prayer to the even more silent gods he tried to push himself up. His hand slipped on the night-dew covered rocks, and he tumbled head-first downwards into the night. The first few yards he screamed and flailed, and then instinct kicked in as the ground got closer. He shoved it away with his telekinesis, and suddenly instead of flying downwards he was flying sideways. He smacked into the wall hard and bounced, landing in a heap in what had only moments before been a bracken roof. He shook his head dizzily, looking around the room filled with non-vampires. They stared at him a few moments, and then one of them drew a knife. “Oh.” He said, quietly. “Sorry… about the roof.” He said stupidly. The man with the knife paused, looking him over. “Well now, don’t stop on mah account.” Taman mumbled, closing one eye in an attempt to make the room hold still. “Ah’m just a visitah.” The bear vir stared at him for a few more moments and then laughed. “Cutest fucking thing ever.” He wheezed, dropping his knife and clutching his sides. One of the other men stirred. “Roll, he’s a Sang.” “I can see that.” Roll said; his tone wry. He picked up the knife. “And I can hear it too, but I sure as hell ain’t gonna slit open a little kid just because he looks like death and talks funny.” “Well what’re we gonna do with him? Take him to the city guard and say he fell through the roof in the middle of the night?” The second man asked indignantly. “Ah imagine they’d enjoy that.” Taman commented, woozily trying to figure out where his legs had gone. He winced when he found them. One was broken. He stared at the pale blue blood as it stained his white stockings. “Don’t touch it.” Roll told him sternly. He glanced at the third man. “Zin, go get a healer. One of the discreet ones.” “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Roll smiled. “Well, I figure if we’re going to repair the roof we’ll need some money, and I bet Valon’ll pay us more if he’s alive when we hand him over.” The second man snorted. “So you aren’t willing to kill him yourself but you’re perfectly fine letting someone else do it?” Roll shrugged. “Like you said, he’s a Sang. If the guard find him here we’ll get executed, same if we turn him over. At least this way we get some money, he gets some painkillers, and maybe he lives. If he’s lucky. Blood won’t be on our hands.” Taman looked up at Roll and smiled drunkenly. “That’s a lot better than my plan.” Roll crossed his arms, still holding the knife. “What was your plan?” “Goin’ back home.” Taman slurred, and then fainted dead away. ----- When he woke up, it was to darkness. His limbs and mind felt heavy and slow. He tried to groan but the gag in his mouth prevented him. He writhed briefly against his other restraints before going limp and listening dully to the sound of wagon wheels on a cobbled road. “You tried to get me out.” Taman stiffened. “I suppose you think I should thank you for that.” Taman didn’t even attempt to speak; he just lay there in the hay and waited. “They’re going to kill you at Valon, you know.” Rhyann’s sweet soprano whispered into the darkness. “Do you think I should try to free you, in repayment?” He closed his eyes. She was silent for a long time, and then he heard the hay move and suddenly her scent washed over him. She grabbed his shoulders and shoved him up against the carriage wall, putting her face right in his, so close her glowing cat-like eyes filled his entire field of vision. “Do you?” she demanded, giving him a little shake. He shook his head slightly, tears forming. Her glowing eyes narrowed “Good. I’m not going to.” He sniffed and averted his eyes. She sighed and shoved on his shoulder, pushing him back onto his side. “You’re a monster.” She said flatly, standing and going over to sit on the little bench on the other side of the carriage. Taman closed his eyes again as his stomach let out a small rumble of hunger. He did not think he was a monster. A monster was a human concept, something inherently bad. He did not believe in such things. He believed in free will, and choice. He had made the choice to hurt her, and that made him a bad person. Not because he was a Sang. Because he was a weak, useless, coward who leeched off of others for his survival and gave nothing in return. He did not deserve to be murdered, but he didn’t exactly deserve to live either. “Mmm’mmrrry.” He said through the gag. Her tail, which has been flicking about in irritation, suddenly grew still. “You’re sorry?” she asked, correctly interpreting the muffled apology. He nodded to confirm. She stood. “Do you think that changes anything?” She demanded in a low hiss. “Do you think that makes everything better?” He met her glowing eyes for a moment and shook his head. “Then why say it?” She demanded. He shrugged, unable to articulate it with his mouth full of cloth. She made a sound of irritation and came back over to him. “Try and bit me and I swear by all the gods I’ll break your jaw!” she hissed, yanking off the gag. He half-turned his face away. “Because ah am. That’s all.” He mumbled numbly. She sat there for a few long moments, and then sighed. “I believe you.” She admitted. “But I still can’t let you go. They’ll know it was me and I’d get in trouble.” He smiled faintly. “That’s okay. It’s not like Ah have anywhere else Ah can go.” She looked at him soberly. “Can I do something for you, at least? He let his head rest against the wall of the carriage. “… If you don’t mind, Ah’d appreciate if you’d finish what father started.” She frowned at him. “That’d better not mean-” “Mah hair.” He interjected gently. “Ah’d be most grateful if you’d shear it the rest of the way.” She tugged on his longer bangs. “But it’s so pretty long.” She said, with a broken smile. “Maybe just leave the bangs then.” He drawled. “Can’t have me looking ugly when they toss me in a ditch, now can we?” She tried to smile, but failed. “You’re trying to make me feel guilty.” He shook his head. “No, Rhy. If Ah’m upsettin’ you then just gag me again and ignore me. It doesn’t matter anyhow. Just a silly idea.” She bit her lip and held up the knife they’d given her. “No. It’s okay. I’ll do it. Hold still.” It was just an excuse for her to touch him, and they both knew it, but she went through with it anyways, cutting as close as she could without hurting him and leaving the forelocks long. He, like most darks, adored physical contact. Ever since she had been gifted to Taman, he had found a lot of comfort in finally having someone nearby. They were never careless enough to hug or cuddle, but they had often sat side by side, leaning their shoulders against each other and simply basking in the warm presence of another person. When she finished and had him lean against the wall again the faint smile that had formed on his lips died. “Thank you, miss Rhyann. Ah hope you manage to find your way back to your people where you belong.” She smiled at him, and opened her mouth to respond, when the carriage bumped to a stop. She grabbed the gag, and he obligingly let her tie it and then slipped down and pretended to be asleep as she scrambled to her seat on the other side of the carriage and sat down. Moments later the door opened and bright sunlight poured in. Taman flinched at its touch and tried to jerk away, but a hand grabbed him by his collar and dragged him out into the blinding rays. Luckily he was only in the harmful light for about thirty seconds before he was flung roughly into some sort of boarded up house and the door was slammed shut. He wriggled slightly against his restraints again, trying to flip over onto his back so he could sit up. When he finally managed it he looked around. Shafts of sunlight pierced through the boarded-up windows, letting the chair that was bolted to the floor and the red bloodstains on and around it be seen clearly. While old, he could still smell it. It was like nothing he had ever smelled before. Like most red blood the smell of copper cut through it clearly, but for some reason the underlying scents were new. It took him a few minutes and the sight of a strand of long raven colored hair to figure out why. Lucian’s psychic pet. Taman’s father had ranted incessantly about him, and then gloated the moment the golem had gone missing. The old vampire had almost cackled when a ransom letter from Valon reached the Resai’s hands, and Lucian had refused to so much as consider it. To Adrian’s great disappointment, the golem had been rescued by Sanura Neris, and was currently under her care. Taman had no such hope. Lady Sanura might have a soft spot for the captured young enemy, but above that she was the queen of were-cats. Rhyann’s queen. Taman wouldn’t be surprised if she beheaded him herself. ----- Dyami sat and listened, his eyes half-closed, as the mahar and mahara discussed the young Sang’s fate. Half-ear, Alastor, Alder, and Mel’an kept looking at him worriedly. Dyami had a history of friction with the Sang dynasty, and it hadn’t been so terribly long ago when he had been the one being discussed, of course in his case his fate had been decided before the mission to kidnap him from Lucian had happened. Taman Sang, on the other hand, was sitting bound in a chair just off the raised dais in the center of the clearing, listening to the council argue over whether and how to kill him. The boy’s head was bent forwards, his long bangs mostly obscuring his face. He was no longer gagged, but he hadn’t so much as whimpered since he had been brought in three minutes ago. Proud-foot could not control the uproar this had caused, and the old king was standing in the middle of the dais, looking pissed, and waiting for the chatter to die down. Dyami waited until Proud-foot managed to get everyone to shut up before slowly getting to his feet. Adele was already on hers, and she called for the boy’s immediate execution. Taman didn’t so much as twitch. Lord Iolani cautioned a ransom. The boy even didn’t look up. Dyami, not wanting to wait through more proposals, cut in. “May I speak, Lord Proud-foot?” Proud-foot considered him a moment, and then nodded. “Ambassador?” Half-ear grabbed Dyami’s hand and tugged on it, hissing at him. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Dyami tugged away and stepped forwards to a speaking position. “Since when is it a crime to be born into the house of Sang?” he asked, raising and projecting his voice so it rang clearly through the council room. “The family has a history, yes, but that does not make the mere act of birth into it a death sentence.” He cut through the clamor this caused. “What right has this council to try him as a criminal when the boy has personally done nothing to warrant it?” Lady Adele raised her chin slightly. “The ambassador has forgotten his place.” She said in a flinty tone. Dyami turned his grey eyes, with their little fleck of blue, on her. “As I recall, Lady Adele, I am here to speak on Lady Sanura’s behalf. How exactly have I overstepped my duty?” Lady Adele narrowed her pale-violet eyes. “Lady Sanura is not an official member of this council. She is an ally and advisor. Neither you nor her have any say in this matter. Besides that the boy is guilty. He cannibalized that girl.” The queen said, pointing a long thin finger at Rhyann, who sat in a small chair near one of the raisers. Dyami smiled faintly. “That is all?” “That is all?!” Adele boomed; her cotton-like strawberry blonde hair starting to billow windless-ly as the fey became more agitated. Dyami cleared his throat. “I merely meant: is that the total of the people he has harmed?” “Yes.” Proud-foot interjected, giving Dyami a dark look. “But cannibalism is a serious charge, no matter what the scale.” “Indeed.” Dyami said, bowing his head slightly as if giving a point. “However, miss Rhyann is not a member of Valon. She is a werecat. Therefore, the only person entitled to pass any judgment on the boy whatsoever would be milady Sanura Neris.” The council murmured a reluctant agreement. Proud-foot glowered at Dyami. It was a technicality, but it was a damn big one. “Unless the council has another charge against this boy?” Proud-foot glared at him. “No.” he grunted gruffly. “Then I would ask Taman Sang and Rhyann of Babylon be given into my custody and transported for hearing in Lady Sanura’s court.” Proud-foot shifted his weight with a small grunt. “Fine. I’ll send a couple of my men to escort you. Make sure you all make it to Babylon.” Dyami smiled pleasantly at the king. “My thanks, Lord Proud-foot.” He made a small bow and then stepped back to his seat. Taman raised his head briefly and turned it, looking at Dyami empty-eyed before the guards came and removed him. Dyami ignored the look easily. “Are you fucking crazy? You just verbally bitch slapped the entire council!” Half-ear hissed in his ear. Dyami smiled faintly. “I know. Wonderful, isn’t it?” ----- Taman swung his feet as he sat on the bench, looking at the garden spread out before him. “It’s pretty, isn’t it?” Taman stiffened, but stopped himself from turning his head. “Why didn’t she have me killed?” Dyami came around the bench and sat down next to the young vampire. “She believes in free will and choice as much as the next person, but she also knows you didn’t want to hurt Rhyann.” “Ah did, though.” Taman said meekly. “You did.” Dyami admitted. “However, you have your entire life to make that up to her. She might not ever forgive you, but that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t have the chance to try.” Taman sniffed, trying not to cry. “Why did yeh… why are yeh bein’ so nice ta me?” Dyami pinched off a piece of bread from the loaf he had brought, and tossed it to the birds. “I know what it’s like to hurt someone you didn’t want to.” He smirked. “Though my situation was entirely different, as are my reasons for regret.” He glanced over at Taman. “But I still know.” “That and you’re an empath.” Taman added. Dyami nodded, his smile widening. “Yes, that too.” Taman smiled a little. “For what it’s worth, Ah’m sorreh for what mah father put you through.” Dyami sent him a look and offered him the bread. “You can’t have it both ways.” Taman pinched off a piece and sent Dyami a confused look. “What do yeh mean?” “You can’t say that everyone always has a choice and everything they do is their own fault, and then go around apologizing for other people.” Dyami said wryly. Taman smiled and crumbled the piece before tossing it out to the birds. “Ah guess.” He looked up into Dyami’s eyes. “Now what happens?” Dyami considered. “Well, Lady Sanura has given you a sort of probation. You are now one of her citizens and have to obey her rules. If you ever bite or otherwise unwillingly take another’s blood except during a legitimate fight you’ll be put in jail for the rest of your life. You will remain in Babylon for six months so she can monitor your behavior and make sure you aren’t a violent sociopath, but after that you’re allowed to leave as long as you’re accompanied by an approved guardian. Someone to make sure you abide by the probation rules until you reach adulthood, at which point you’re free to do as you want.” Dyami teased off another piece of bread. “So we’ll probably have to do some anger management exercises, make sure you can overcome your natural instinct to bite anything that pisses you off.” Dyami chucked the piece as far away as he could. “You could return to Valon and fight, if you wanted.” He suggested carefully. “I’d be willing to act as your guardian.” Taman hugged himself. “Ah… Ah don’t want to do anything. All Ah’ve ever done is sit in mah school room and study.” Dyami smiled. “I have a library for a parlor. You can still study, but maybe in order to be something.” “Like what?” Taman asked dismally. “A teacher, maybe, if you like history so much. Maybe if you decide you like something more active you could become a soldier. I imagine that you’d work your way up the ranks pretty quickly. There are some vampires who left Ys to join Valon’s cause. I’m sure they’d be more than happy to be led by a good Sang.” Dyami handed Taman the loaf of bread and rose. “Perhaps you could work in a secretarial or accounting section of Lady Sanura’s court if you don’t want to lead, but for now…” He shrugged. “I could use someone around the cottage if you haven’t anything better to do six months from now.” He said, stepping out of the shade and into the sun. “Oh, and, Taman?” Taman looked up at him. “Yes?” Dyami smiled. “Rhyann is just around the corner.” Taman bit his lip, watching Dyami stroll off through the semi-arid gardens. He looked at what was left of the bread in his hands, and nervously stood. It took him nearly half an hour to convince himself to approach her. “Rh-Rhy?” he asked plaintively. She turned in surprise to look at him. “Tam?” He opened his mouth and worked it a bit, then shut it and took another step forwards, offering the tattered loaf. She raised an eyebrow. “For th’ birds.” He said weakly. She smiled and took it. “Okay. Do you want to sit down?” He echoed her smile faintly. “If you don’t mind.” She patted the seat next to her and he happily slid down into it.
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