"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 dying."
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-"