Subikahn laughed.
It was the last reaction Tae expected. He stopped speaking. And stared.
Subikahn explained. "Are you worried I'm too innocent to defend myself?"
Apparently, Subikahn had grasped the point. "Well…"
"Papa… I'm Renshai." Subikahn opened his robe to reveal a sword at his left hip, and little else. He had not bothered to put on clothes, but he would never go anywhere without his weapon. "And you've taught me plenty about climbing and hiding and dodging. Hel's ice, some of what you've told me overlaps eerily with the Renshai training. And don't get me started on languages…"
In that light, Tae's concerns did seem a bit silly. Subikahn was not exactly the classic prince, lounging around the castle getting dressed and flattered by servants and eating too many peeled grapes. While Subikahn did not have his father's uncanny skill with languages, he did read and speak Eastern, Common, Western, Northern, and Renshai. Though Tae appreciated the ability to communicate with anyone anytime, his skill had often seemed as much a curse. Weile Kahn had exploited his son's talent at a very young age, using him to spy on strangers and enemies. No one ever suspected a child could understand so much.
"Those things will help you," Tae admitted. "But you can't become street-smart without challenging the street. And you can't become world-smart without facing the world."
Subikahn's brow furrowed. "So you want me to… travel?"
Tae remembered his own odyssey, fleeing the Eastlands with his father's most lethal enemies on his heels. He had had little combat training and nothing but the clothes on his back. Rarely eating, never sleeping, he had tried desperately to keep just a step ahead of death, his only goal one more moment of survival.
"But I've already gone to Erythane and back many many times."
Tae sighed. The situation had utterly changed since his father had banished him, at fourteen, with the words, "Come back when you're twenty. If you're still alive, all this will become yours." Weile had waved a hand toward Stalmize. At the time, Tae had believed his father meant his current business: organizing and leading bands of murderers, thugs, and thieves. Never had Tae imagined Weile would take over the kingdom itself and pass it along to his only child. As promised, at age twenty.
In less than two years, Subikahn would reach that same crucial age with little to show for it other than the Renshai training.
Tae cleared his throat, making the pronouncement he had dreaded. "Subikahn, for your own good, I am hereby banishing you from the Eastlands until you reach the age of twenty."
"What?" Subikahn's features lapsed into confusion. He seemed uncertain whether to be shocked or amused.
"You are not to run to your mother but to seek out every part of the world and bring back some unique item as proof of your travels."
"What?" Subikahn seemed stuck on the word, his features open, registering real surprise now.
Tae could feel his resolve wavering. He hardened his heart, imagining himself as Weile Kahn. He had despised his father's business and techniques; yet Tae now, finally, saw the wisdom in the way Weile had tossed his son into the fire. Without that ordeal, Tae would never have survived his trials with Kevral, Ra-khir, Darris, and Matrinka. "I expect you to visit the entirety of the Westlands, even the parts farthest north and east. I expect you to weather the Northlands-"
"But I'm Renshai!" Subikahn shouted in horror. "The North? They'll slaughter me!"
Tae lowered his head. The differences between his own test and Subikahn's were enormous. Even sent to a land of enemies, his son would never be recognized. Tae saw no reason to give the obvious advice, that Subikahn not bother to mention his mother's heritage or his training. He would easily pass for a full-blooded Easterner if he kept his swords sheathed and his mouth shut. If the boy could not figure out something so simple, he truly did deserve to die. "You'll find ways to cope. We all do."
Subikahn considered the words in silence for several moments, nodding, clearly finding the positives inherent in having no responsibilities while exploring the entire world. "Very well, Papa. If you think that's best. Talamir and I will pack-"
"No!"
At the sudden, forceful shout, Subikahn jumped.
"You will go alone."
Now the horror that had previously escaped the prince appeared, stamped across his features. "But, Papa, Tally and I-"
"No!"
"We're a couple-"
"No!"
Subikahn's voice turned pleading. "Please, Father. I can't go two years without seeing my-"
"You can." Tae could not allow Subikahn to finish that sentence. Whatever word the boy used would enrage him. "And you will." Softened by his son's pain,Tae lowered his voice. "Subikahn, this will give you a chance to experience… other things. If your love is real and strong, it will survive two years of separation." It was all platitudes. Tae felt certain Subikahn's youth and inexperience explained how he had fallen for the first non-related person, man or woman, who had invoked feelings of accomplishment, closeness, and security. Surely, Subikahn would meet attractive young women on his journey, and their tribulations would bring them closer. Until Subikahn experienced the kind of love Tae still suffered for Kevral, until he opened himself to new and different circumstances, he would never know what he really needed, what he really wanted.
"You don't understand-"
Tae glowered at the insult. "I love your mother now as much as I did the night you were conceived, even though I have seen her only once or twice a year in the last eighteen." He gave Subikahn a pointed look. "That, my son, is love."
Subikahn's shoulders sagged. "Yes, Papa. You're right." The corners of his lips twitched but never made it into a smile. "I trust your instincts and your devotion to me. If you feel this is right, then I will leave in the morning. Alone."
Tae gritted his teeth. Nothing had ever felt less right. Subikahn meant everything to him: his beloved son, the lone product of his infinite and ill-fated affection for Kevral, the only future of family and kingdom. But Tae knew that to back down from his decision would condemn Subikahn to execution. The boy's raw enthusiasm, his ignorance of Eastern law, his emotional innocence would assure that other people, dangerous people, discovered his lethal secret. And used it against them. "You will leave now, Subikahn."
"Now?" Subikahn looked up at his father through a long fringe of bangs. He appeared so young, so childlike. "But I need to pack. To tell Tally 'good-bye.' To explain-"
"Now," Tae repeated, fighting the tears forming in his own eyes. "No packing. No good-byes. No explanations. Just outside the door, my men have clothes for you and as much food and money as I'll allow you to take." Tae avoided Subikahn's judging stare. "It is best."
Subikahn stood in silent misery.
Tae resisted the urge to gather his son into his arms. A tearful separation would destroy his will and drive him to rescind what he knew in his heart was the proper course of action. "Farewell, Subikahn. I'll see you in two years." He smiled wanly, "I only hope I'll recognize you as a man."
Slipping past his son, Tae opened the door and disappeared into the hallway with his waiting guardsmen. He did not instruct them. They knew what to do. They would see Subikahn safely off into the world.
Meanwhile, Tae had other pressing business.
CHAPTER 8
When you corner a lion, expect a fight to the death.
Thesecond knock on the teakwood door did not surprise Talamir, already dressed and ready. His hand fell to his sword hilt, and he called out, "Who is it?"
No answer followed, just another, harder rap at the door.
With a sigh of resignation, Talamir rose and headed cautiously toward the door. He had no idea what to expect, other than knowing he would not like whatever the king had planned. The look on his face after Subikahn had made his announcement combined surprise, horror, and abject rage. Talamir felt certain the king would vent that squall of emotion on him. Subikahn's gone. Talamir knew it. The best thing to ever happen in my life is over.