Dreams Less Sweet

by

Ann Marie Olson

Story © 1999 Ann Marie Olson

CHAPTER 1

      Feeling like everyone was staring at him, Vayer Arkayevich Azov looked down and pushed his noodles around on his plate. He hoped no one would notice he had hardly eaten any of them. Dinner at Azov was normally a rather noisy affair, what with his having two sisters and four brothers. Tonight was far worse than even usual, since the households of Fatima, Kirov and Sergei were also all gathered together.
      "Aren't you going to finish your dinner?" Sharm Lord Tyanir Sergeyevich Fatima asked him, rather nastily he thought.
      "Quit, Tyanir." Lord Nashen told him. Vayer had no idea how anyone could put up with Tyanir, much less his good friend Lord Nashen. Nashen had even taught him some of the basic sword dances, even as a child. Vayer thought Nashen was the neatest adult in all the world, what with his incredibly smooth way of moving and the great tricks he had taught him in the salle. He had even told Nashen his deepest darkest secret.
      "You'll never grow up to be like my half-brother, Arkay, if you don't eat." Tyanir dug the barbs in even deeper.
      "Stop it right now, Tyanir." his father, Sharm Lord Arkay Sergeyevich Azov, snapped. Thank you, otyet, he thought in gratitude. Vayer truly did love his parents, all three of them. Now, with his eyes flashing in anger, he could also understand why his blood father was the most feared man in all the Demenses. Vayer was very glad that anger was never turned towards any of his children, even when they had managed some truly spectacular mishap.
      "At your will, Sharm Lord Arkay." Tyanir snarled in parody of the renSime words of submission.
      "Enough!" his grandfather, Sharm Lord Vanya Sergeyevich Sergei, called out. "I will not have two of my sons bickering at the dinner table."
      His mother, Lord Karola Mardinova Azov laughed, "No different from any other night." This made his face hot at all the times he and his brothers had gotten into it over various meals. Vayer tried to force down more of the special dinner prepared for the occasion of the first thaw.
      "They are supposed to be grown men." his grandfather grumbled.
      "Men grow up?" Sharm Lord Kir Kirov put her tiny hand on her mate, Lord Valentine Ilyavich Kirov's wrist.
      "Some of them do." his mother gave his other father, Sharm Lord Avilan Turovich Azov, an arch look.
      At this exchange everyone laughed and relaxed again, all but Tyanir who gave him a hard look he couldn't figure out. Vayer looked down at his plate again, careful not to possibly provoke Tyanir into yet another outburst like the last. With a quick exchange of gestures with his older brother, Vanya, Vayer managed to divest himself of the last of the noodles on his plate. Vanya would probably want some kind of favor later, but anything was better than having to eat more.
      Usually he really liked the pasta with all kinds of butter, garlic, capers and hot-house vegetables which was served at first thaw, but tonight he didn't have any appetite. Unfortunately, he also knew why. "May I be excused?" he asked his parents.
      His mother gave him a curious look but said, "Certainly, go ahead. We'll keep some of your favorite lemon cake back for you if you want it later."
      "Thank you." he said politely and left with all the haste he could manage without looking like he was in a hurry.

      Vayer curled up until a pile of quilts he had absconded with from the rag bag. All his life, it seemed, everyone had expected him to be exactly like his father, including being the most powerful Sharm Lord alive. But Vayer had a secret, he knew, knew in his heart, he was going to turn out wrong, a lord not a sharm lord. No one will want me anymore he thought now that the horrible thing was really happening. For the longest time he had set up this little hiding place, between two unused suites buried over in an old unused part of the Azov town house.
      As soon as he had escaped Vayer noticed the way his arms were aching and the back of his neck. He had known it would be very soon, but he had hoped it would wait until everyone had left from the party. Vayer had made his way to his hiding place and was fretting over the way he had left so quickly. Would anyone think there was anything wrong other than Tyanir's nastiness? he hoped not.
      When no one showed up for a long time, Vayer relaxed some. No one knows where I am, I hope. he shivered under the blankets. As far as he could tell, everything was progressing normally, right down to loosing what little he had managed to eat at dinner into the basin he had brought for the purpose.
      A bright flash of silver-blue light flashed across his vision in the darkness and he cried out at the suddenness of it. "Oh lad." he heard Nashen's soft voice cry out. "I was afraid of this when you left so suddenly but I had to send Tyanir back to Fatima before I could even try to find you."
      "Go away" he pulled his arms to his chest. They burned and ached. Vayer didn't want to drag Nashen into the awful event.
      "No lad. I won't leave you here to die in the dark, alone."
      "I want to." Vayer cried. "No one will want me now. I was supposed to be grandfather's heir." he sobbed, biting his lower lip.
      "Hush, lad." he felt Nashen's arms around his tormented body. "I want you. Your parents want you."
      "Not like this." he held out his arms, looking at the red lines tracing their way up his forearms in disgust. "They want a sharm lord, not some dainty lord." he sobbed again, knowing he was acting like a spoiled child but unable to help himself.
      "If I were a one to take offense, that last would be very hurtful, young Vayer."
      He gulped, "I'm sorry. I didn't mean you."
      "I know. You are upset and I can understand why." his hand stroking his hair back, which had always felt hot to Vayer before, now felt normal. "But they, and I, want you, Vayer Arkayevich."
      Vayer couldn't really believe him, even though he wanted to. "I suppose they have Ilyan to take my place." he ducked his head.
      "Oh, you poor youngling." the silver-blue, which he now knew was his friend Nashen, grayed. "Come with me, lad. I'll show you."
      As the older man got up, Vayer cried out, "Don't go!" The stone wall he huddled against was cool in the darkness.
      "Please, come with me." Nashen's tried to draw him upright, but Vayer shrank down into the nest he had made where he would be safe.
      "No" he protested. "They don't want me." Torn between wanting to be alone to finish this in peace and wanting his friend with him, Vayer didn't know what to do.
      "I suppose that's somewhat better than no one wants me." Nashen said quietly as he returned to Vayer's side. "But lad, I can't give you first transfer." Nashen's arm around his shoulders made him want to put this whole mess in his friend's capable hands. A tentacle twined over his ear and it felt very good, making him almost smile. Vayer's mother had tickled his ears like that as a child and for an instant he thought he could smell her perfume.
      "Why not?" some hope returned to Vayer as he realized there was at least one person in the world who wanted him. Possibly, living through changeover wouldn't be the disaster he had thought it would.
      "Because then you wouldn't fulfill your potential as a lord, you know that, Vayer." Nashen gave him a little squeeze.
      "So" he turned his head away, looking at Nashen's fine boned hand on his upper arm. "I don't have any potential for anything as a lord."
      "Not from what I can zlin, young man."
      Vayer looked at him in shock, "What?"
      "Even from what I can tell at this stage, I think I would have a hard time giving you first transfer without you stripping me." Nashen stated calmly and Vayer caught a flash off Nashen's odd silver eyes in the dim light.
      "Oh" he thought about this. "Why?" intelligent questions were not Vayer's strong point at the moment.
      "Because you are probably going to end up needing more selyn, and faster than I could provide, even for a first transfer, my young friend."
      This made sense, "I don't want to hurt you. OK, I'll go with you."

      "You don't have to get up." he heard his blood father say from the doorway and Vayer immediately burrowed headfirst back under the quilts, away from everyone and everything. It was safe and warm there, away from the proof of his failure. A cool gray mist intruded into his hiding place and little dancing lights chased him in the darkness. He tried to get away from them. For a long time he huddled in the darkness. Then he panted, he had to get out from under all these stifling covers.
      As his head popped out, he met the very startled light blue eyes of his father. Trapped between wanting to get away, trying to catch his breath and not wanting to disappoint his father, he froze.
      "Vayer, lad. Why are you trying to hide?" his father's strong hand reached out towards him, beconing him.
      "B...b...because I want you to still love me." he hid his arms under the blankets, even though he could feel things moving around under the skin and it made him want to scrape it off.
      "Yes I still love you. I always will."
      "Now you won't." he pulled his arms out from under the blankets.
      His father bit back a sob, then with surprisingly gentle hands wrapped his fingers around Vayer's forearms. With his touch, Vayer's hands clenched into fists. "No!" he shouted, trying to draw back.
      "He thought you wouldn't want him anymore, Arkay." Nashen's voice was soft, but sad at the same time.
      "My son, my son. No. I still want you." but Arkay didn't say the one word Vayer longed to hear.
      "Even though I turned out bad." he hissed as his hands snapped open. Startled at the gesture, Vayer pulled back again.
      "Youngling, quiet." Nashen took his hands and stilled them. "Not yet."
      Before he could hear his father's response though, a cold, black, hungry place beckoned. It scared and fascinated Vayer at the same time. I might be safe there He let his awareness slide towards that place. The cool gray mist chased him again and he ran towards the dark. Lighting flashed in the distance. The hunger of the black place tore at him, but it was still better than the mist. The mist was going to choke him. It was bad.
      He ran and ran from the fog with a thousand sparkling motes. A shattering flash of lightning and a thunderclap made him freeze. "VAYER!" he heard his father scream in panic. There was a sharp tearing pain on his arms and he could suddenly sense a figure, which he knew was his father, wrap its great feathered wings around him. There were dancing lights along its soft feathers and he reached out to touch them to find out if they were real. The cool mist returned, but this time, held by the embracing wings he stood and faced it. Laced with the lightings now it tore into that black place.
      It felt so very good, he pulled at the mist, drawing it into him and rising on his own wings now he soared over the abyss. Drawing the winged figure with him, they filled and banished the cold, hungry dark place inside himself.
      Vayer opened his eyes to see his father stare back at him from only a few cents away. His eyes were almost gray with sorrow and there were tears on his face. "I did turn out bad." he pulled his hands back, trying to pull the horrible tentacles in as far as they would go. His hands were sticky and he grimaced at the disgusting feel of stuff stuck to them.
      "No" his father sobbed. "No, Vayer. I almost lost you. You are wonderful the way you are."
      "Thats not true. I'm a failure. I'm not a sharm lord." he cried and curled up in a little tiny ball as far away as he could. If only he loved me Eventually, he cried himself to sleep, blocking out hearing anything more his father had to say.

      Lord Nashen Fatimovich Fatima had never had much in the way of affection for children but young Vayer had managed to work his way into his heart and his affections like no other youngster ever had. Even his own daughters had never brought out in him the sort of care he had for this poor lost youngling.
      "What did I do wrong?" Sharm Lord Arkay cried when Vayer had turned away from them. Tentatively he put his hand on Arkay's shoulder. Nashen had always been closer to Arkay's partner, Avilan and even Lord Karola. Actually Arkay himself had always made him more than a little bit nervous. With the touch though, Arkay threw himself into Nashen's arms, crying hopelessly.
      He almost never gets this post. Helplessly, Nashen pulled himself as far into the real world as he could and concentrated on physically stroking the other man's broad back. "I don't think you did anything wrong, Arkay."
      "How can you say that?" pain and guilt tore at Lord Nashen. Shivering in reaction, Nashen bit back a gasp of shared pain.
      He had to do something, "Arkay, you're hurting me." It cut off and Nashen breathed a silent sigh of relief. "Thank you." Arkay was still crying in his arms, but at least he had blocked the worst of it from Nashen's senses. "I don't know how I can say I don't think you did anything wrong. Children are not my specialty." he reminded the older man, regretting every word.
      "You knew, didn't you?" Arkay looked at him with an openeness Nashen had never known the man to share with anyone not of his household.
      Nashen had to admit it, "Yes, he told me." Lying to Arkay would be as futile as trying to stop winter's snows in their entirety.
      "Why didn't you tell anyone?" there was a bit of a growl to Arkay's words and his eyes narrowed. Nashen felt him withdraw into the aloofness Arkay had always shown him before.
      "Because he told me not to." for some reason keeping his word to Vayer had been very important. After the way his changeover had gone, Nashen realized it was probably the only thing which had saved Vayer's life.
      "True enough, Nashen." Arkay opened up a bit again.
      What? he hadn't thought he had spoken out loud.
      "You didn't. I'm sorry. I don't usually respond to unspoken comments or question unless I am very upset." Arkay said heavily and then pulled away. Reluctantly, Nashen let him go. Having the preeminent Sharm Lord in Russia open his heart to him, was a bittersweet favor he would always remember.
      "Oh" was all Nashen could say. He had never, ever truly been this intimate with the tightly knit Azov household. True he had slept with them, particularly Avilan, but that was a different issue entirely. "I wish I knew what to say or do to make things better, particularly for Vayer. All I know is he felt you wouldn't want him or love him anymore if he didn't turn out like you, his father."
      The flitting fireflys of Arkay's field froze for an instant and then danced madly. "You don't think that do you?"
      "No, and I tried to convince young Vayer of it. Even before tonight, but he didn't trust me enough to believe me I guess." he said, and some of the faint lights calmed.
      "Well, where do we go from here?"
      "Perhaps it would be best if you brought everyone in on this discussion, including Vayer, this time." he flicked a tentacle toward the lad, now deeply asleep after all the excitement of coming into his new life.
      "This time." Arkay said heavily. "I think you're right, Nashen. None of us ever asked him what he wanted."
      "I think he wanted to make you proud of him, Arkay." Nashen said sadly. If only I had a son like Vayer.
      "I am." then he sighed. "I guess I just never told Vayer that."
      "I think he might also have not been listening." Nashen guessed.
      "Maybe so. Youngsters can occasionally have selective hearing." he reached out to Vayer. Even in his deep sleep though, the lad shrank away. Nashen let his own field shift and added his feel to Arkay's. Vayer relaxed with a sigh, uncurling from his tight knot into a more restful sleep. "I think, also, you will have to be in on this, Nashen. He seems to trust you like no one else."
      "Me?" his voice cracked, ignominiously. "I don't know anything about raising adolescents!" Although in the most hidden part of his heart, he was awestruck at getting his desire.
      Arkay's beautiful, deep chuckle made him worry this time. "You seem to have done quite well with him as a child. Better than his family."
      "But, but ..." He sputtered, then Arkay turned those gorgeous light blue eyes and fascinating, intricate energy patterns on Nashen with devastating effect. "I'll talk about it." he stroked the side of Vayer's face, still childishly soft before his first whiskers came in.

CHAPTER 2

      To say Vayer woke in a state of absolute confusion would be a huge understatement. There was a tame lighting storm delicately wrapped around what he thought was his body. Tentatively, he poked at one of the little tendrils. It twined around his thought for the briefest instant and then dissolved. ? he disturbed some more of them. They danced and played with his own grasping lights. For what seemed like a long time he watched, fascinated at the interplay. This is fun! his own tendrils of light spun at the thought.
      Eventually though, he got bored with the whole thing, as young people do and opened his eyes. He blinked. They had been open. The real world snapped into sharp focus completely displacing the world of dancing lights and energy. "What?!" he heard himself ask in surprise. He was in an entirely strange room, decorated in black and silver.
      "Its all right, lad. Like this." someone, the person with the lightings, showed him how to change between the two worlds and then held his mental hand as he wobbled, trying to sense both at the same time.
      Vayer only then realized he was in a strange bed with an adult, Lord Nashen, wrapped around him like a mare with a newborn colt. Somewhat shakily, "What is all of this, Lord Nashen?" He felt so very secure and safe here in his friend's arms.
      "You're a lord, youngster. Congratulations."
      He hadn't wanted this. Vayer had never wanted to be a lord. "Shouldn't that be condolences, m'Lord?"
      "Please youngling, you don't have to use my title anymore and I would prefer it if you didn't." Nashen corrected him. "Particularly in bed. I also meant what I said, congratulations."
      This was all very shocking and Vayer stiffened in Nashen's arms, "I'm sorry. I didn't ... I mean ..." His tentacles came out, it seemed of their own accord, and wrapped around his fingers. Distracted by their antics Vayer forgot to finish his sentence, or even manage to figure out what it was he was going to say. He flipped his wrist, like he had seem his fathers do with their bracelets, to try to get them to settle. It didn't work. Actually it stung a bit and he glared at his wrists, trying to figure out how to make his own tentacles behave.
      "You know. I don't think I have ever seen a lord try that gesture." Nashen laughed softly. "Like this."
      Vayer watched fascinated as Nashen reached over him and stroked the back of one of his dorsals. "That feels good." he grinned at the tiny thrill running up his arm from the contact. It tried to catch Nashen's extended tentacle. For a while, they twined tentacles, Vayer getting a feel for exactly how they worked by watching and zlinning Nashen.
      "Do you feel up to being about?" Nashen asked him when he thought he had finally figured out how his new appendages worked.
      He stuck one of them in his mouth and nibbled on the end of it, thinking. It tasted exactly like he remembered his mothers. Although feeling his own teeth nibbling at it was strangely calming.
      "Don't do that." Nashen pulled it away from him.
      "Mother does it all the time." he complained and tried it again.
      "I know." Nashen pulled it away, again, this time with a tracing of lightning surrounding the dorsal.
      Vayer giggled, "I take it you don't approve." It was strange to think of someone outside his family knowing something so close.
      "No" Nashen said with an emphatic flash. This was too interesting to resist and he wondered if he could make Nashen do it again. Before he could try his theory though, something dumped him back to the real world.
      "Oof" he shook his head.
      "I think its time to get up, lad. Before you get into trouble."
      "But I am already in trouble." he got to his feet anyways, only slightly wobbly, unlike he would have thought. In moments he noticed the silver sword on black banner hanging over the doorway. This time though it looked different. Fascinated he walked towards it. There was light streaming through the black and not through the silver, casting shadows in contrast with the colors. A tendril of the tame lightning pulled him back from his investigations.
      "No, you aren't. You are just very young." this last had the tone of someone reminding themselves of a fact. "Here" Nashen had come back out of the closet with a pair of clean trousers and a tunic. They were in black and Vayer put them on. This was completely different. He had never worn Demense colors before and the black of Fatima was shocking against his fair skin. Vayer looked around and caught a glimpse of himself in a mirror.
      He saw his dark blue eyes widen in surprise. The black of his hair matched the clothes exactly. Actually he thought, I look pretty good Vayer preened and the image echoed him. His high cheekbones and otherwise fine features looked back at him.
      "Yes, you are quite good looking, youngling." the reflected image of Nashen said.
      Vayer got confused between the image in the mirror and the image of Nashen in his mind Unable to figure out where to direct his response, he ended up turning all the way around and facing back towards the echo of his mentor, "I am so little."
      "Not for a lord, youngster." Lord Nashen's hands turned him around to face the older man. This was much better. Nashen's eyes danced with amusement and Vayer zlinned, fascinated as his lightning twined in rapid little spirals. "I didn't have anything in my closet in Azov green, so we'll have to settle for black for now."
      "I think it looks great." Vayer looked back over his shoulder at his image again, realizing he was being quite vain, but still fascinted by the effect of the silvered glass.
      Nashen laughed softly, "So do I, youngster, but looks aren't everything."

      Vayer backpedaled rapidly running right into Nashen. "Its all right." the lightings wrapped themselves around him protectively. Vayer was entirely unsure of this assessment. As soon as they had opened the door to what Vayer knew were his parents' private chambers a stunning wash of warm honey gold fire smacked him right in the face.
      He blinked in confusion. None of the children had ever been allowed into their parents' inner rooms once they had been old enough to sleep through the night. Vayer himself, had only vague memories of light and shadows from when he had been that young. The big chair sitting by the window and the large couch were familiar to him though. The warm gold presence reached out for him and he yelped. Embarassed by his reaction, he leaned back even harder against Nashen's tall, lanky body.
      The lightnings trickled over his arms and he looked again. His other father, Sharm Lord Avilan Azov, was looking at him quizzically. Are they the same person? he delicately reached out with his new senses and confirmed his guess. Hmmmm he zlinned around some more, there was an ever changing whirl of black, silver and gold over by the window. Tentatively he reached out to it, and it froze. "What?" he blinked. It was completely still, then after a pause it moved again, this time in impossible geometric figures. "Who?"
      "Your mother, Lord Karola." Nashen whispered in his ear.
      "It seems you have acquired a shadow, my old friend." the warm gold feel ran over them in a far more delicate gesture than the one they had been greeted with as the door opened. Then it too froze.
      Vayer gasped as his other father's field suddenly locked into place around his forearms with a diamond hard clarity. It stung and he tried to pull his arms out of the now solid feeling trap they were locked in. "Easy, youngling." Nashen whispered in his ear again. Vayer was incredibly greatful Nashen was being so good about not making him look like an idiot.
      His other father was staring, still locked onto his arms. Uncontrollably, Vayer whimpered. "I'm sorry, Vayer." his other father said softly, almost apologetically. "I didn't know, until now, you were a lord." The warm honey gold returned stroking his arms. It felt so very good, like the warmest, softest fur on a cold winter's night.
      "Ease off, Avilan." Nashen said from behind him.
      Vayer looked down to see all of his tentacles extended. Embarrassed at the horrible faux pas he retracted them and tried to rub the sticky stuff his laterals had left off with his hands. This only succeded in getting it all over his hands. Nashen handed him a soft hankerchief. "Thank you." he tried to clean himself off, mostly succeeding.
      "I didn't mean to get you all excited, my lad." now the warm gold feel was avoiding him. Feeling ignored, Vayer reached out for it.
      "Ow" Vayer got his first lesson in approaching another's transfer partner as a pinprick of pain stung at him.
      "Where is Arkay?" his mother asked, looking at him warily. Her hand was now firmly wrapped around his other father's wrist. The twined fields beckoned to him and he watched, fascinated as the honey gold twined around the sharp, angular darkness. Another, sharper sting returned him to the real world and he leaned back warily. "I don't mean to be so harsh, Vayer." she said gently. "But you have to learn not to reach out."
      "Its all right, mat'." he ducked his head and snuggled ever deeper into Nashen's strong arms, hiding himself away from temptation.
      "He hasn't been back here?" he heard Nashen ask in return.
      "No, I was talking the situation over with my father." the cool mist feel of Vayer's father washed over him. It was far fainter than he remembered though. He was accompanied by a far stronger feel of another with a very similar texture, but with a more fiery, less independently mobile sparks. Scared by all the sudden changes, Vayer twisted in Nashen's arms. An astonishing welter of conflicting energy patterns converged on him all at once.
      Now fiercely protective, Nashen's lightnings knocked all of it away from him. Taking a deep, shuddering breath, Vayer blinked again as the world solidified into only the purely physical.
      Then he noticed the various garments strewn about over the backs of chairs and he giggled. No wonder they were always after me to clean up my room the normalness of it settled him some more.
      "Why didn't you tell us, Vayer?" his mother asked him suddenly.
      "Because I didn't want to disappoint you, mat'" Vayer whispered, ashamed and embarrassed beyond words at having done so.

      Lord Nashen was having an increasingly difficult time keeping up with Vayer's incredibly rapid shifts in attention and focus. Having three unrobed Sharm Lords in the room, two of them high field, with a new lord present was more than Nashen thought he could cope with. "Go put on your robes before we talk." he told them tersely and returned his attention to Vayer. Stroking the young man's arms, he tried to smooth out the tense muscles. Vayer was still shivering slightly, tense and nervous.
      He coaxed Vayer into sitting against him on the couch, where at least he wouldn't fall down if Nashen slipped again, like he had done when Sergei and Arkay had come into the room. He berated himself for letting the youngster get hit so hard. Now Vayer was looking around with enormous eyes at everything he could zlin and see. Even Karola had scurried off with his sharp order. Nashen caught Vayer's laterals extending to zlin better and he corrected the young lord's manners. Not incidentally teaching him to be wary of opening himself up so much when he wasn't in a safe place. Avilan's teasing of the poor young man had been so very sad to see. Vayer hadn't stood a chance of any sort of mature restraint with such a glorious field wrapped around his very arms.
      It was a much, much quieter group who returned. Nashen giggled a bit at the sight of Karola in one of what must have been one of Avilan's old kadors. It was very worn and threadbare, but it did the trick, dampening both her need and her nager down to a whisper of its normally rather sharp aggressiveness. He was a bit surprised at their taking of his rather perfunctory order, but grateful nonetheless. Normally, only his own people took Nashen's orders.
      Vayer got lost again in his zlinning of this new thing. Nashen nudged him back to being able to hear and see what was going on around him. It was far easier now that the fields were damped by the shielding kadors.
      "Thank you all." he said softly, trying to put all his gratitude into his words and not in his field so as not to shame Vayer. Right now Vayer was almost blind to the real world, he was so busy zlinning everything.
      "No problem." Karola said, making him giggle at the Russian phrase for making things work, no matter how improbable.
      "That tickles." Vayer squirmed in his arms but his field was dancing with laughter.
      "Now, we do have a bit of a problem, however, you young Vayer are not the cause of it." Karola said with a hard look at Arkay.
      "I didn't know either, love." he told his mate. "The only ones who knew were Vayer himself and Lord Fatima."
      "How did that happen?" Avilan said softly.
      Vayer was trembling in his arms again. He cuddled him closer, stroking the entire length of his taut body. Finally, Vayer stilled again and looked up. His huge, dark blue eyes held an unconditional love and faith in him, Nashen had never see in any other human being before in his life. "He thought you wouldn't want him as a lord." Now Nashen would willingly kill any human being he even thought might threaten this most precious youngster he held on his lap.
      "No, not at all." Karola protested. "We still love you, Vayer."
      "Even if." he held out his arms but looked at Sergei. Nashen gently wrapped his hands around Vayer's forearms, making sure the lad didn't zlin more than he could handle.
      "Even if, lad. We all still love you." Sergei's eyes were soft and kind to his wayward grandson.
      "But I can't be your successor now." Vayer protested. Finally Nashen figured out what all this had been about. Traditionally, Sergei followed the male Sharm Lord line, not the female Lord line of Fatima or the male Lord line of Kirov. Some Demense were more flexible than others, Lord Nashen himself was a prime example, but Sergei almost always followed tradition. Of course there had been no alternate for the position of Lord Fatima when Nashen couldn't stand silent behind his mother's abuse of her power any longer and had killed her in Challenge for the Demense.
      The thought of it dragged forth memories he had tried to bury, unsuccessfully, so very many times before.

      Shaking and sickened, a young Lord Nashen watched as lord after lord descended the steps of the Fatima dias with bruised wrists, bloody lips, even a few desperately clutching the arm of their sharm lord to stay upright, blinking against what must have been brutal headaches. Sharm Lord Tzanir, her silver hair pulled back tightly into a single, most functional braid, did nothing but sneer as her partner misused the children of Fatima so very badly.
      Sharm Lord Kieran was standing behind them, lips clenched into a single line. Even from here Nashen could see his jaws clench in anger. He was a good man, despite his love of power which had brought him to this point. Even he turned his face away as Aliana, Lord Fatima, backhanded lord Ildarin to the tiles.
      Ildarin's hair wrapped around his aged body as he tried to rise, in a tangled grey mass, as if to hide him from her irrational fury. Aliana stalked down off the dias. Before she could kick the old man, Nashen could take no more of this and stood in her way. She tried to slap him the way she had the poor, helpless, lord Ildarin.
      "No more" Nashen growled, deep in his throat, only for her ears and caught her upraised hand. At one time he had loved his mother, Lord Aliana. She had meant everything to him; beauty, love, laughter, light. He remembered her putting him on his first pony and her delight at his crowing laughter at the animal's calm acceptance of his weight. He remembered her joy at his zest for learning and fascination with Moskva's rivers and the traders who plied their goods along their watery pathways. There was no recognition now in her silver eyes, so very much like his own.
      Aliana's breath hissed between her teeth. Her eyes were wild, whites showing all along their rims. There was nothing of his beloved mother left, even in the contact he held in his hand. "How dare you?" she snarled, almost silently.
      "I dare because I love you, maya mat'." Nashen whispered, heartbroken yet steadfast, hoping to see one last glimpse of his mother. There was nothing. "I proclaim Challenge!" he called out at the top of his well trained lungs. The cry echoed from the rafters and the blood stained war banners hung from the walls of the great hall.
      For a moment there was absolute silence in the hall. Nashen heard the rustle of cloth and saw Kieran turn and walk away from the dias, never to be seen again. Tzanir stood still, looking unseeing over the crowd but did not join her daughter and half-sister. She has to know it's her death she courts Nashen tried to catch her eye.
      For a fraction of an instant, Tzanir's chin tipped down and she looked straight into his eyes. *Kill her* were the last words he ever heard in any way from his grandmother. Aliana snarled and tried to pull her hand back.
      Nashen let her go. Before she could even set herself again though, she was on him, possibly even forgetting this Challenge was to the death. He let he catch one wrist and quickly stepped to the side. She over balanced. Before she could fall, he spun her around facing away from him, still holding one arm captive. Aliana flailed for balance with the other. Nashen caught it as well, locking Aliana's arms behind her back.
      She writhed in his grasp, trying to free herself. However Nashen had all the leverage. With the speed he was famed for Nashen touched the back of her neck with his lips. The pain of pinched nerves combined with the first shock of his draw made her lock in place. Giving in to the predator bred to his body and blood, Nashen stripped the selyn from his mother's body.
      *I love you and thank you with all my heart and soul, Nashen. No mother could have a truer born son than I. Go with Allah and peace be unto you.* Aliana sent in one final burst of lucidity as her spirit left her tormented body with its diseased mind behind.

      "How do you feel about that, Vayer?" Nashen asked him softly, trying to recover from the wrenching memories of when he took the Fatima Demense.
      "I don't know, relieved I guess." the lad said, which Nashen could well understand. Taking a Demense meant killing, often someone beloved. To ask Vayer to kill his own beloved grandfather was cruelty of the highest order.
      Nashen could sense eyebrows raise all around the room at the youngster's admission. Hadn't they ever even asked? he thought in dismay. Didn't they ever think it through?
      "You don't want the Demense?" Arkay asked, quite kindly.
      "No!" Vayer snapped and tried to leap out of Nashen's arms. Whoops! he used his talent to block the attempt. Never before had he been quite so glad he was far quicker in motion than any normal human. "I never wanted the Demense. I only wanted to make you love me!" his youthful voice cracked and with astonishing speed he turned around in Nashen's arms and cried against his chest.
      Stroking Vayer's soft black hair, he waved everyone back as they tried to come over and comfort the lad. Nashen was getting the rhythm of Vayer's outbursts, and as he had guessed, it wasn't long before something else caught the lad's attention and he actually chirped at something. "What is it?"
      "They look like a line of birds on a tree branch." he laughed and turned back around.
      Indeed they did, all four of them standing in a row looking down at the two of them warily. "Go sit back down." he softened the words with a gesture with his field. This caught Vayer's attention again. For a moment he zlinned the youngster mimicking the wave with his own unique shafts of energy, like light through trees striking the forest floor. Then, for the first time, Vayer managed to come back to what was going on around him on his own. "Like that, youngster." he praised him and was rewarded with an astonishing rush of love and affection from Vayer.
      He stroked his cheek against Vayer's crown, "Now lad, if you don't want the Sergei Demense, what do you want?"
      "I don't know." he wailed, shivering again. Nashen realized Vayer was chilled and grabbed a quilt off the back of the couch and wrapped the two of them up in it. This also seemed to make him feel more secure, so he tucked the edges of it around him. Now only Vayer's eyes were peering out and his field zlinned far more sunstruck, which Nashen figured must mean he was happier.
      "Well, lets start with what has to be done, and let the future sort itself out." Avilan said, quite sensibly for him before transfer. Normally, Nashen knew quite well, Avilan could be rather irresponsible and more than a bit immature the last week or so of his cycle.
      "As I was saying earlier, we do have a bit of a problem, and I hadn't been talking about inheritance." this time Karola glared at Arkay sharply. There seemed to be a problem between the two of them at the moment.
      "Oh" he said and Nashen was treated to the amazing sight of Sharm Lord Arkay blushing the brilliant scarlet red of Kirov. "Yes, well, um ..." he trailed off and looked over at one of the Azov banners hanging on the wall.
      Nashen himself hadn't wanted to mention it, since it had seemed the three of them had not wanted it bandied about before but, "Congratulations."
      "Thank you." she said demurely. "Someone wanted a daughter of his own." she glared at Arkay again.
      "I thought you had ..." Sergei said and then realized what had happened. "Arkay!"
      "At least it isn't me in trouble this time." Avilan muttered, making Nashen grin. Vayer giggled at the comment.
      "You are going to have Avilan and Arkay both tied down again after this month, aren't you." Nashen wanted Vayer to hear all of why this was a problem.
      "Yes. I also won't be able to give Vayer his testing transfer, either." she told them, falling in with the impromptu lesson in biology.
      "Why not?" Vayer asked. Nashen could sense the voracious curiosity both of a new lord and that which he had obviously inherited from both of his genetic parents.
      "Because I will have to be saving my transfer nerves from as much irritation as possible before our daughter is born, Vayer. You would be coming up for your testing transfer right when I am due."
      "Oh. I think I understand. You will have a lot more selyn to finish the pregnancy and then right when my sister is born. Right?"
      "Exactly right." Nashen told him. "Now, who is going to be up for our young lord with both Arkay and Avilan out of the picture?"
      "Thats the tough one, isn't it." Sergei mused.
      "He almost stripped me for his first transfer." Arkay shrugged. Nashen zlinned him again and realized he had never seen Arkay so low field before. "Admittedly it was few days early for me, but still his next is going to be even faster and deeper."
      "There are the Inducted." Sergei proffered.
      Vayer flinched at his mother's flash of pure hate, even muffled by her shielding. "I don't think so." Nashen said in Vayer's ear, making him relax again. Vayer began investigating the feel of the intricate quilting with his tentacles. Nashen slid his hand between Vayer's tentacles and the blanket. Vayer twined his tentacles with Nashen's. He had no idea why she hated the idea so very much but tangling with Lord Karola had never been high on Nashen's list of priorities. It seemed her son had a very similar respect for his mother. Although he was now quivering with nerves, far more than Nashen account for from Karola's little outburst and he clamped down even harder on Nashen's hand.
      "What is it, youngling?" he asked softly, not wanting to leave Vayer out of planning for his future again.
      "How about Sharm Lord Tyanir?" he asked quietly, but Nashen could sense the spike of sheer terror at the idea run through him.
      "Perfect." Sergei said. "Absolutely perfect. Tyanir is the strongest of my children after Arkay and he would be next in line for Sergei."
      "Great idea, Vayer." Arkay said. "I'm incredibly proud of you for thinking of the best possible solution."
      "Yes, thank you, Vayer." Avilan said. "Would Sharm Lord Diomid Azov suit you as a replacement, Lord Fatima?"
      "Who?" he tried not to cry over the incredibly brave face Vayer was putting over his fear and loathing for Tyanir. He gently tucked Vayer's head under his chin, as if trying to shield the lad from his own relatives.
      "He's a bit younger than Karola, but very smooth." Avilan supplied. "And unattached."
      "Certainly. However I insist Vayer come back to Fatima with me for his training." he couldn't let this poor youngster face Tyanir's obnoxious manner alone, which he feared would happen if he left Vayer at Azov. Besides, he doubted if he could pry Vayer loose, not that he had any desire to do so.
      "Yes, I think that would be wise." Karola said with hooded, unreadable eyes. "Besides, I think Vayer trusts you far more than any of us."
      For good reason Nashen thought, rather bitterly, as they plotted and schemed out the rest of young Vayer's life, with a calculatedness more often associated with his own Demense of Fatima than either Azov or Sergei. Vayer huddled in his arms, obviously not hearing any of it, for which Nashen was very, very glad.

CHAPTER 3

      "Come on, lad!" Vayer heard Nashen call to him from the doorway. "Its too fine a day to be sitting about inside messing about with the ledgers." His heart lifted with Nashen's cheerful tone and much missed presence. Even though it had only been a day or so since he last saw him.
      He still felt a bit off, even after having gotten rid of the sick headache which was the legacy of his awful transfer with Tyanir. "I don't know, Nashen." but he put down his pen and got to his feet anyways. Carefully, he put the cap on the inkwell and blotted his last line in the book with a sprinkle of sand. The fine grains slid through his fingers and he zlinned the refraction patterns they formed in the black ink.
      "Trust me." Nashen's hand waved him toward the door. "Here, let me show you a trick." A faint trickle of lightning tracked across the floor and Vayer grinned at his playfulness.
      Nashen offered his now quite familiar lightning laced field to him as if to give him transfer yet again. He made a question with his own but twined tentacles with the older man and let him neatly give him more than a little bit of selyn into his public system. "Come on." he flitted to the doorway under normal augmentation.
      Vayer had seen him move even faster, or at least missed seeing him move as could be the case with Nashen, and followed his example. Oh! he thought as the augmentation burned out some of the logy feel from his mind. Of course his other teachers had shown him how to augment, but they hadn't told him of this application. Nashen raced down the hallway and then looked back, waving Vayer to come on with a blue-white flicker. "Whee!" he said as he caught up.
      For an instant he stopped, dead still, as the bright spring sunlight hit his eyes. Most of the snow was gone from the ground, except in the shadows, but the glare off the cleared cobblestones was stunning. Then they raced down to the docks, side by side. "That was fun!" Vayer danced in his excitement. Silver spring sunlight shattered off the ice lined river. The budding trees reflected in the water seemed to hold all the possible joy of the future in their new won greenery.
      Many of the Fatima renSimes looked at them, then went back to their industrious sanding and woodwork to ready the docks for the first traders to arrive. Unlike the Azov renSimes these people didn't seemed to be at all afraid of two lords appearing in their midst suddenly. Nashen laughed heartily and picked up some of the lines which had become dangerously frayed last year and hadn't been attended to yet. "Here, I'll show you how to splice rope and tie off a boat like a proper member of Fatima." That was another thing about Nashen which fascinated Vayer; after he had returned to Fatima, he almost seemed like a different person. Businesslike and confident yes, but also far more relaxed and open with his people than Vayer had ever seen as a child when he had come for a visit with his own family.
      Vayer looked at his relatively soft hands and momentarily worried about getting them all work hardened like a dock hand. He laughed at himself for being silly. "Please." he grinned. "I don't know anything at all about it, but I would love to learn."
      "Don let the ol' Lord be foolin ye, m'lord. It takes a much of time te lern it good." a rather grizzled old renSime came up to them.
      "Quiet, Vassily, I don't want to scare him off." Nashen grinned at the old man, with far more familiarity than Vayer had seen his parents ever use with the renSimes. "He taught me how to splice and knot when I was a lad." Nashen gave Vayer a wink.
      "Ye lerned it good, too." Vassily picked up another of the lines and showed Vayer how it was done. Although far faster than he ever thought he would be able to manage. Whistling cheerfully, Vassily went back to his wood work.
      Vayer looked around and noticed no one on the docks was wearing shoes of any kind. He had left so quickly he had forgotten his own, but now it seemed like a silly worry. They sat with their feet hanging over the end of the pier, like a couple of youngsters fishing in a lake. "Now, first you have to cut out the frayed portion ..." an incredibly sharp looking, very slim dagger appeared in Nashen's hand.
      "Where did that come from?" Vayer asked, astonished, not having noticed Vassily having used a knife of any kind when he had demonstrated how to splice a rope.
      "This?" it disappeared again, making Vayer giggle. "Right here." the sunlight flickered off the blade. Then Nashen turned over his arm and Vayer could see the slender sheath resting neatly between Nashen's ventrals. It was only slightly darker than his arm and barely visible unless you looked for it. Even the intricately laced straps holding it on were almost invisible. Vayer had only thought them a form of odd decoration.
      "May I?" he asked to look more closely.
      "Certainly." and Nashen held out both of his arms, and there was a matching knife in its sheath on the other. Vayer would have worried about possibly cutting himself in such a delicate location. His own tentacles retracted a bit at the idea. It seemed Nashen had no such concerns from his nonchalance.
      "Why?" he asked. No one else he knew ever wore, or even knew how to use weapons except for the spears the renSime guards carried.
      "Because I am Lord Fatima, my lad." he chuckled and began his work on the rope in his hands. "We, Fatima that is, are the primary traders for all the Demense. When we leave the city..."
      Vayer gasped, "Leave?" People don't leave Moskva! to do so was unthinkable.
      "Ah, but we do. How else would we get things like spices and silks. Not all of the traders who come here of their own accord necessarily bring everything we require. I, myself, have been as far as the great north sea," he pointed up the Volga with his knife before sheathing it again, "and all the way to the steppes in the east. Even made it as far as the far southern tribes one long summer in my youth."
      "Did you ever go west?"
      "No, we don't trade there. We let the southerners do that evil work." his hands and tentacles were busily making the two pieces of rope into one strong one again. Vayer watched him avidly, trying to remember all the tiny, strong maneuvers Nashen was making with his fingers and tentacles.
      "How so, evil?" Vayer had never heard a Lord use such a coarse term for anyone and he stumbled over the word.
      "They are evil, my lad. From what I have been told, they keep people, Gens, in pens and kill them to live." Nashen's silver eyes turned dark and grey with the thought as he looked directly at Vayer, as if to emphasise the horrible truth.
      A cold shiver ran up Vayer's spine at the idea, "I know it is possible to kill, but as a way of life?"
      "Death, I think of it. I'll have nothing to do with them. Kir comes from the west." Nashen looked over his shoulder in that direction.
      "I didn't know that." Vayer thought of the tiny, exotic Sharm Lord Kirov. She was an absolutely exquisite woman with an often understated, but quite funny sense of humor with people she knew well or children.
      "Not too many people really think of it much anymore. Val rescued her from Warsaw. From a farm where they raised humans to be killed." Nashen was staring across the watery interchange where the five great rivers met. "The southerners have enough faith in Allah to be able to tolerate their vicious practices. I don't, quite. I think I would be far too tempted to want to destroy all of them and their works."
      A shock, as if of electricity, ran through Vayer at the Name Nashen spoke so calmly. The past month at Fatima Vayer had heard whispered references to Allah, but everytime the speaker saw him, they looked away and became silent. Vayer took up one of the badly damaged lines and looked at it carefully, "Why don't we?"
      "Because it would mean war, my young friend. We have been at peace for centuries now and have no desire to ever return to the days where we had the barbarians howling at our doorsteps." Nashen handed Vayer his knife. "Val and I have talked about it occasionally, the few times we have been together in private after he returned from Warsaw and took the Demense of Kirov, but the cost would be too high. If they come to us, we are ready to deal with them. Otherwise we do well to keep to ourselves and our allies."
      "I think that is probably for the best. Although I wish we could help all those poor people trapped in such a system."
      "As do I, lad."
      "What are you two doing out here?!" Tyanir's voice boomed from behind him, almost making Vayer land in the river. He did drop the knife, but Nashen grabbed it out of the air and put it away before it could even move.
      He wanted to say, learning a trade, but Nashen cut him off before he could get the first word out, "What business is it of yours, Tyanir?"
      "Because lord Vayer," he slurred the title, making Vayer cringe at the insult, but still he stayed silent, "is absent from his lessons in the infirmary. If lord Vayer truly wished to support my claim to Sergei ..."
      "Silence!" Nashen snarled. "Enough of your vicious words, Sharm Lord Tyanir. You are out of line and unescorted."
      "So" he insolently crossed his arms, making his bracelets scrape over them. "My escort was out here lazing about in the sun when he should have been working in our chambers."
      "Vayer, tell me true, has Sharm Lord Tyanir been staying with you and treating you decently."
      He closed his eyes, frightened at being trapped between the two of them, but then he felt Nashen's so wonderful presence supporting him, "He has been staying with me, but I don't want him. He hurt me! I want him to go away!"

      "You have injured a young lord under my protection, Sharm Lord Tyanir." Nashen wanted to rip the man's throat out he was so furious. He had hoped, it seemed now wrongly, Tyanir would be able to behave himself with the lure of the Sergei Demense held in front of him. Nashen was also more than a bit digusted at his own failure to defend Vayer yet again from his kin.
      "The kid isn't injured, just a little coward. He'll get over it as soon as he grows up some." Tyanir looked at the shivering young lord Vayer scornfully. "Quit babying him and he might have a chance."
      "Look at me, Vayer." he said softly and the lad turned to him with those big eyes now almost a storm gray with his distress. Carefully he zlinned him and now noticed the transfer burns Tyanir had left, after what zlinned like at least two, if not more, aborts. "You'll be all right. You will never have to deal with Tyanir again, my lad. Be still here for a moment and I will take care of everything." This time he would make sure of it. Lords were not coddled or catered to if they were over delicate, but no one expected the same fortitude of a lord in the first few months as in one fully grown and adult.
      Nashen got to his feet with all the speed he was famous for, coming to rest glaring down at Tyanir from less than half a meter away. The Sharm Lord tried to step back when he finally saw Nashen had moved. "I have no desire to do this in public." he hissed. "You are all dismissed for the day. Be well and do your best." he raised his voice to the work crew, and told them politely.
      "At your will, Lord Fatima." they answered in antiphonal unison and scurried away from the impending collision. Nashen regretted having disturbed Fatima's renSimes' routine, but better a little disturbance than allowing Tyanir to possibly escape his crime.
      He waited till they were all out of earshot and zlinning range. "Now, I had explicitly ordered you to be careful and considerate of lord Vayer. I would have thought you would have had the decency to treat him as a kin, which he is." The violation of kinship was anathema to all the peoples of the Demenes, particularly the nobility and it disgusted Nashen beyond measure Tyanir could have misused his own nephew this way. Vayer seemed to have the demons of Hell in his corner where his family was concerned.
      "He's just another of that whore bred, Karola's brood." Tyanir whined. "There's more where he came from."
      This was entirely too much. Lord Nashen lashed out with the lighting he had at his command and physically drove Tyanir to his knees with them. He couldn't kill the Sharm Lord unless he had actually committed treason or permanently injured Vayer, but he could sure make him wish Nashen had. Real, physical, sparks rained down each time he hammered on Tyanir's shielding.
      "Look out!" Vayer shouted and Nashen saw flames blaze up from the dry tinder left from the earlier sanding. Nashen danced back from the rapidly spreading fire. He turned to Vayer just in time to see him collapse as great wash of water ran across the dock. Nashen grabbed him before he could fall in the still icy cold water of the river. He couldn't find any trace of Vayer's field and he reached out with all his will to try to bring it back. "*VAYER!*" he screamed with both his heart and mind.
      *Nashen?* he heard in response and sagged back against a supporting piling in relief as the youngster's presence returned.
      "I'm here lad, I'm here." he held Vayer tightly to him. For a long time he simply held him safe, more grateful than he could ever say he hadn't murdered the youngster with his own thoughtlessness. There was no way he could move the lad, alone, without causing him to wake up disoriented. "I'm so very sorry about all this. If I hadn't ..." Nashen babbled in his distress, gently stroking Vayer's still childishly long hair back from his forehead.
      At this point he looked up to see Arkay come pounding up on one of his great silver bay stallions. Nashen had always coveted a mare of that line and had never managed to talk Arkay out of one. "I heard your cry all the way out at Azov, Nashen. What happened?" he asked as he slid off the horse and landed running.
      "Oh hell, Arkay. Its all a mess." he smoothed Vayer's hair back from his forehead, again. "I found out, well I hadn't been paying enough attention, I, well, there was a fire because, no, it didn't start there, I ..."
      "You aren't making a whole lot of sense, Nashen." Arkay said kindly. "Do you mind?" he held out his hands.       Nashen tried to hand Vayer over to his father but instead Arkay shook his head, "Stay still." He felt Arkay's cool hand gently stroke the side of his face and all the memories of today starting with Lord Tyanir's appearance flashed through his mind. He had heard of Arkay's unusual abilities, but this was the first time he had ever experienced them first hand. Surprisingly, it actually felt quite good and he rubbed his face back against Arkay's hand. The rough calluses on Arkay's palm rasped against the stubble forming on Nashen's jaw. Then he stroked his son's hair gently. "My poor little Vayer. You try so very hard and keep ending up on the wrong end of the stick."
      "You are more than innocent of any wrong doing, Nashen. I'm sorry the person who was my brother has caused you such grief." Arkay's eyes were almost grey with regret. Nashen gasped in shock and surprise at Arkay's wording. "I would like to clean this up before I let you go." Arkay knelt at Tyanir's side and with a blast of power, drove him awake again.
      "Get to your feet." he commanded Tyanir. Nashen could feel the lash of Arkay's will driving the other man upright. When Tyanir was swaying on his feet he looked dubiously at his eldest brother.
      "I think Vayer should see this as well." Nashen said softly, hoping Vayer could take some comfort in knowing someone was doing something to try to right wrongs done to him. Particularly that his father would unname his own half-brother, for wrongs done to Vayer.
      "You're right. He has to see this for himself." Arkay agreed and very, very gently convinced his son it was time to come all the way back to them.
      As soon as he was fully awake, Vayer turned around in his arms. Nashen had no intention of letting him zlin this without as much support as he could give.
      "Do you have anything to say in your defense, Tyanir?" Nashen's eyes closed briefly at the start of the horrid ritual, begun by stripping the miscreant of all names and titles.
      "Yes, the little slut, Lord Nashen, wanted your son for a playmate. When I tried to protect Vayer he accused me of hurting the lad."
      "You lie!" Nashen screamed, with the cry of a hunting hawk. He was absolutely disgusted anyone could think such a thing of another human being.
      "You lie before the ultimate judge in Russia, Tyanir. Do you wish to retract your statement?"
      Tyanir's face went dead white at Arkay's statement of his authority. "My brother!" he cried out.
      "No, I have no brother Tyanir. I proclaim the person who was once Sharm Lord Tyanir Sergeyevich Fatima nee Sergei to be outlaw and kinless. Tyanir is dead. The man who was Tyanir may be killed without wrong or recourse in law." he pronounced a fate many, including Nashen, would have deemed far worse than death.
      For this reason alone Nashen left him standing there on the docks, to walk alongside Vayer mounted on Arkay's horse with Arkay on Vayer's other side. He wanted to be sure Vayer wouldn't slip, but it seemed the youngster, even as out of it as he was, was just as good a rider as his father. It was getting late by the time they returned and Arkay handed Kika over to the Fatima grooms. Said grooms looked at Kika quite nervously, but led him back to the stables with commendable consideration for the horse's reputation. Nashen made a note to himself to speak with the grooms for their tactful handling of the situation.
      "Don't you worry about someone you don't know very well, well, sliding a mare or two under him?" Nashen eyed the gorgeous stallion wistfully.
      "Are you suggesting you might have thought of such a thing, m'Lord Fatima?" Arkay asked with a lilt to his dancing lights, letting Nashen know he was teasing, but also possibly offering.
      "Would I have ever dreamed of being able to put one of my mares to Kika?" he asked coyly as they settled Vayer.
      "Yours are not up to my standards, I'm afraid." Arkay said sadly, but there was a tempting little flicker held out of reach.
      There were some things in life cash couldn't buy, good horses were one of them, Nashen thought sadly. He was not a very good rider, certainly not even close to Arkay, but he did enjoy the occasional outing off the water. "Perhaps Vayer would enjoy a mare he could ride over the summer."
      "I would rather someone be able to go with him." Arkay said with a beautiful ripple of laughter at their little game dancing through the foggy shrouds of his field.
      Vayer's looked back and forth cautiously, "What's so funny?" His presence had almost completely returned to normal already, surprising Nashen slightly, and then he realized Karola often did the same thing.
      "Would you like to have Mira, so you can ride?" Arkay asked his son. Nashen almost lost his trader's composure at the offer. Mira was one of the finest of Kika's get.
      "Yes!" Vayer said with the bluntness of the still very young.
      "But there is one requirement." Arkay said, "You'll have to take Lord Nashen out with you on Ilara"
      Nashen did lose his composure at this, gasping at the incredible offer. He had desperately wanted to get his hands on Ilara, one of the best mares ever produced at Kirov, for his own since she had been foaled.
      "You'll have to wait until she is checked in foal to Kika, but that will only be in a week or so." Arkay informed him. "I think you might want to come out and see them, tomorrow? Possibly stay for a few days, if you like?" he asked.
      "Certainly, Sharm Lord Arkay." he sputtered, quite uncharicteristically agape at this incredible offer.
      "So formal. One would think I were giving you the pride of our stables." Arkay winked.
      "You have already given into my keeping the pride of your house." he looked over fondly at Vayer, vowing again to do his utmost to raise this youngster as well as he could. No matter how poor that best may have been so far.

CHAPTER 4

      Vayer nervously readjusted his new tunic. It still seemed very odd to him to be dressed in black and not the motley of all hues he had worn as a child. Although it seemed more suited to him than the green kador he had tried to force himself to think of wearing when he had been a child. This morning had been wonderful fun, showing Nashen the stables, mews and kennels of Azov. They were not as impressive as those of Kirov, having far more work horses in the stables and large hawks for hunting for the sharm rather than sport, but they were still home. Then again they weren't really like the home he remembered from last fall. For some reason he felt as out of place here as he had at Fatima when he had first gone there. Now Fatima felt like home and Azov like someone else's.
      Fatima was so much closer, more intimate than Azov. The numerous endeavors, spinning, weaving, sewing, stock breeding, and raising crops of Azov were all so varied and different. Trading, Fatima's specialty, was so much more straightforward. Of course the nervous, obsequious renSimes of Azov bothered Vayer greatly after the far more affectionate, familiar renSimes of Fatima.
      "Feeling a bit lost, lad?" Nashen asked him softly as they waited for the doors to open for general court. His lacy blue-white streaked field stroked against his gently. For a moment he simply relaxed into Nashen's presence, trusting the older man to guard his delicate senses.
      "A little. This was, is, should be, something like that, home." he shook his head over trying to get his tenses organized.
      "You are no longer a child, youngling." he pointed out the obvious.
      "I know that." Vayer snipped and then laughed. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to be short with you."
      "Its quite all right, lad. You've changed a lot in the past month. A lot more things will be changing for you in the future."
      "More?" he squeaked, not wanting to think about his life getting even more hectic.
      The doors opened for them, only half way though, showing this was informal and not formal court. Nashen merely squeezed his hand gently and twined tentacles with his. Now at least he knew better than to zlin in an unknown situation and had the discipline not to. He did look around with incredible curiosity, this being his first time ever to be presented at court since that night. Vayer still couldn't really accept the fact entirely he was now a lord and no longer a child. This was despite the fact he sometimes had to work very hard not to be set off balance by other people's fields.
      Court at the Azov summer estates was often half the size of the one at the town house, but it seemed everyone who could show up today, did. There were well over a hundred people packed into the room. Vayer thought briefly of bolting back outside until Nashen pointed out everyone's curiosity and friendliness. Although Vayer realized also few of them recognized him.
      They reached the dias and Vayer felt horribly awkward making the formal obeisance of lord to Sharm Lord to his own father. His tentacles felt dangerously exposed in the position. Nashen merely bowed his head in respect to a Demense not his own. The cool gray mist of his father's field gestured for him to rise and he momentarily leaned towards the too tempting reminder of his first transfer. A small sharp jar, which seemed to be against his own wrist, reminded him of his position, as his father jangled his bracelets slightly. Briefly he bit at his lower lip in concentration and his other father grinned at his near slip.
      "We are more than a bit less formal outside the city, Vayer. But please don't act like you are going to attack me in court." his father's eyes danced with suppressed laughter as he whispered to his son.
      "I'll try not to, otyet." he looked down to make sure he was presentable and heard his mother snicker.
      "Get on with it Arkay, before the lad does loose it." she reminded him.
      "Turn around now." Vayer felt his face redden slightly at having to be reminded.
      He almost forgot and called Nashen back to his side as the older man moved up to stand on the dias with his parents as an equal in rank. Then his father's large, cool hands wrapped themselves over his shoulders and he quivered inside as their fields intertwined. "I give to you, people of the court of Azov, my son, lord Vayer Arkayevich Fatima nee Azov!"
      A mixed cheer and hiss of disbelief arose from the assembled crowd. Vayer raised his hands and let his tentacles wrap around his fingers as he showed the entire court, lord and sharm lord alike the proof of his father's statement. Inside though he was terrified. Too many people out there were hammering at him, telling him he was bad for turning out the way he had. The very instant he had to bolt his father clamped down on his shoulders and forced him to stay still. *hush* he heard in his mind.
      No, no, no... he kept repeating to himself in panic. Vayer couldn't even see as the terror rose up to the front of his mind. *hold on a moment* he heard and then his entire body froze, completely beyond his control. Struggling against the bonds, he finally managed to free himself to bolt across the hall and burrow behind a tapestry.
      "That was close." he heard the gold, honey feeling person he knew was his other father say, with a rather odd laugh. Vayer looked out from his hiding hole to find everyone had disappeared but his family and Lord Nashen.
      "Come on out, lad." Nashen told him, and dreadfully embarrassed at his lack of control, he slunk out from behind the heavy wall hanging. He looked sheepishly at his feet, I can't believe I did that. "At least you didn't fall on a Sharm Lord in formal court and get yourself ascended in the process." his friend laughed kindly.
      "No one's ever done such a thing, Nashen. Quit teasing the lad." his mother rebuked his friend.
      "Not true, m'Lord Karola." he said with a wink.
      "Then tell," his father was grinning as if he knew something none of the rest of them did.
      "Hey, thats not fair. You were there, Arkay." Nashen looked up at the rafters.
      "You didn't!" his other father exclaimed.
      "What?" Vayer was now dreadfully curious. "Who?"
      "This was a long time ago." Nashen demurred. "There was once a very young, very brash young lord who decided, all on his own, he was old enough to deal with full court ceremonials all on his own. Now at formal court, they require you to expose your laterals as well."
      Vayer shivered at the idea.
      "I hate it too, love." his mother said, her field twining briefly with his. Now he knew what it was and gave her a familiar stroke back, but not so forward as to threaten either of his fathers.
      "I think it's a holdover from wanting to make sure a lord has all of their equipment in good condition, as it were." his father said with unexpected use of euphemisms. Vayer realized his father had recently had transfer with his mother, and wondered how similar it had been to his own.
      "Whatever. There was this young lord. Now, not only was he very brash, he also came to court almost in hard need. This was outright stupid, but often youngsters don't think of such things." Nashen grinned.
      "He might have managed all right except for the fact there was this absolutely stunning young Sharm Lord standing towards the front of the dias. Things might also have turned out differently if she hadn't been as desperate for a transfer as our poor young lord." Nashen was now shaking his head sadly, but still grinning.
      "You didn't!" Vayer pieced it together.
      "Indeed I did. Right on the dias of Fatima. Almost ended up bedding her right there too." he shook his head ruefully. "Fortunately she had enough presence of mind to pull me back into the hallway behind the dias before I managed to get enough of her clothes off, but it was a close call."
      Avilan, he thought he would try to remember to start using their names, now that he felt more like he was being accepted as a young adult, was howling with laughter.
      "All I remember was seeing a lad of hardly more than Vayer's age very nervously bowing to Lord Aliana Fatima and then suddenly turning to the side with a look of absolute stunned amazement. I think Taina, was it?" Arkay asked.
      "Yes, she and I were together for quite a few years." a dark shadow crossed Nashen's field, as if a cloud had passed across the sun.
      "Yes, well, Taina let the lad's rush carry her back into the shadows behind the dias. The other people on the dias closed over the gap so quickly even I couldn't tell a whole lot more." Arkay was laughing and shaking his head. "A few of the young lords at court jumped in surprise at what was a truly impressive nageric flashover from transfer, but the rest of us just smiled and let it go. Surprising things sometimes happen when youngsters first have to face a large mixed group."
      Vayer relaxed a bit more as he realized he hadn't really done anything wrong, per se. "I remember a time when Sergei got himself taken on the dias." his mother, Karola he reminded himself, said in amused recollection.
      "Tell, tell." Nashen's lightings were dancing with excitement over hearing someone else's contrempts.
      "Yet again, another young lord decided to present themselves at court in need. She did a little better, actually managing to make it through the presentation before she turned on him. It was lord Familya I think. When the crowd cheered she lost it and grabbed him right then and there." she was shaking her head. "I remember zlinning the flashover but didn't think much of it until she wrapped her arms around him so tightly he barely managed to call out the adjournment before she started kissing him in earnest. I don't think he actually made it out of the hall on that one." she grinned wryly.
      "At least the really young ones aren't as likely to want to follow through." Arkay twitted him gently. "You did fine, love. Really. Considering the tone of the crowd."
      "What I want to know is why there were so many negative reactions." Avilan said darkly.
      "Me too." Nashen agreed. "It isn't normal, by the way, for there to be so many people to be disturbed when a lord is first presented to court."
      "It isn't?" Vayer asked. "I mean, since everyone expected me to turn out to be a sharm lord, maybe they were disappointed."

      Nashen had hoped he had managed to get Vayer over that bit of nonsense, but it seemed there was still more work to do in that department. He sighed a bit, making a note to work on it.
      "No love, there is more to it than that I am afraid." Karola grimaced. "There is something going on I don't like at all."
      "Fatima has nothing to do with it I know of." Nashen tried to reassure them. "Seriously, she has never had the time to plot and scheme during the spring." he grinned. "Politics are a winter sport." They all laughed and he sighed in relief. He would certainly do his own checking but he had a feeling, "I think you might want to check out Tyanir's supporters. I will certainly be doing so in Fatima, but he had always been more closely tied to Azov and Sergei."
      "I don't like the sounds of that, but I think you're right, Nashen. And I think it would be best if lord Vayer stayed with you for longer than the summer. I want to be sure we have this mess completely cleared out before he comes back." Arkay said, drumming his fingers against his thigh.
      Vayer was nervously edging his way back under Nashen's arm and trying to keep it from being noticed, "What say you, youngster?"
      "Its silly." he ducked his head. Nashen hated the way Vayer turned nervous and timid around the very people who should have given him the confidence to face his new life unafraid. It wasn't the lad's fault at all, but rather something had gone wrong somewhere in the way he was raised.
      "If it really is silly we can all laugh about it together, Deal?" he knelt down so he wouldn't tower over the lad. Even though he was already getting close to his mother's height.
      "Deal." Nashen noticed Vayer was going to he a heart-stopper when he discovered the joys of the bedroom as well as transfer. "Well," his dark blue eyes flickered towards his parents nervously and Nashen wrapped his lightnings around him protectively.
      "Go on." he said softly.
      "Let me become just another lord in the Fatima sharm." this all came out in a rush.
      "I think that is an excellent idea." he said forcibly, completely overriding Vayer's parents dismay with a brilliant flash of joy in having the lad with him. "If it looks like Arkay has let you find your own way in the world where won't be any more problems with the succession, right?" Nashen desperately hoped Arkay at least would get the hint.
      "Right!" Vayer chirped happily, not at all dismayed by his voice cracking yet again.
      Nashen did not look forward to the next meeting with the Azov household without Vayer.

      Laughing wholeheartedly, Nashen watched as Vayer and an equally young lord Kelyaren came up sputtering and coughing after trying to spar nagerically underwater. They had both gone after the same tow line at the same time. It was lord Taryana, however, who actually caught it. She received a kiss from the boatman for her trouble. Still too young to appreciate it, she fell back into the water in surprise and came up spitting out river water.
      Normally he didn't feel so great after a channel's transfer, but watching the three of them cheered him enormously. Vayer seemed to actually be doing better after his transfer from Lord Valentine. Of course after the disaster with Tyanir, I suppose Val would be pretty good. At least Val didn't make him cut his hair. Normally Nashen kept it no longer than waist length anyways, so perhaps Val hadn't thought it worth the bother. He had taken transfer from him to free up Diomid for Vayer next month.
      Although Nashen had gotten rather fond of the Azov Sharm Lord himself. After having to deal with Tyanir's nasty moods and horrible temperment, Diomid was an absolute love. Actually, Nashen qualified, there was only one other Sharm Lord Nashen would have rather had for his own and he was as unobtainable as the moon.
      He laughed again as he zlinned Vayer dive and pull Kelyaren under by his ankles. Then Vayer left like a shot to come up next to a boat waiting for a tow, with Kelyaren left trying to figure out where he had gone.
      Taryana was laughing so hard she had to grab a hold of one of the nets strung over the side of the pier for that purpose or go underwater. "That looks like a good one." Nashen pointed out a boatman preparing to pole his way out to the main part of the river complex.
      "Thanks." she chirped and headed towards the boat he had indicated.
      Nashen knew the other Demense often looked down on Fatima for her letting her youngsters work the docks and the markets. He thought it was good for them. If nothing else he had certainly enjoyed it, and the pocket change it had brought him, as a lad.
      "Put your backs into it!" he called out to half a dozen porters trying to drag an oversized container out of the way. Nashen himself grabbed the end of the rope and dug into the roughened footing with his toes. With his help they got it pulled all the way into the breakdown area for conversion to more wieldy parcels.
      Turning back around Nashen saw Vayer come boiling out of the water as if a demon were on his tail. "Vayer saw a pike!" Taryana sang, teasing him.
      "That was a fish?!" he shouted from his perch atop one of the pilings.
      "Vayer ran from a fish!" Kelyaren teased.
      Nashen laughed again as Vayer made a huge augmented dive back into the river to try to get both of them, particularly Taryana.
      "Up at the house they told me I could find Vayer with you." he heard Arkay say from behind him.
      "Sort of." he shrugged and pointed to the most likely eruption site. As if on cue, Vayer came flying out of the water, followed in hot pursuit by Taryana and then Kelyaren. "Hold on a moment Arkay."
      He bellowed verbally and nagerically, "We're supposed to be working here!" Nashen pointed nagerically to a boat waiting for a tow. Vayer made an incredible reverse under the water and made it to the boat first. After popping his head out of the water, he shook the excess out of his now renSime short black hair.
      "You were saying, Arkay?" he turned back around to see the man in question standing there with his mouth hanging open. "Lets pull back away from the pier so Vayer doesn't think you're a fish. He saw a pike earlier and almost managed to walk on water."
      "Oh, um, sure." they backed up a ways and Nashen positioned himself so he could still see what was going on. "Isn't the water still a bit cold?" Arkay asked finally.
      "They don't seem to notice or care, Arkay." Nashen shrugged. "I didn't when I was their age."
      "I didn't expect to come out here to find my son working like a common renSime, Lord Nashen." Arkay's sudden displeasure hit Nashen like a hammer.
      Still he refused to back down, "Your son, Sharm Lord Arkay, is having fun. I will remind you I am Lord Fatima, not simply Lord Nashen and you are on the Fatima docks." He let his mixture of fear of Arkay's power and anger for the way it seemed Arkay was trying to spoil any fun Vayer was likely to have fuel his lightnings to the point where they flickered faintly around his tentacle sheathes. For all Nashen's fascination with Sharm Lord Arkay, there were certain things he would never accept from the older man.
      "You couldn't take me on a warm day for Year's Turning, Nashen."
      That was undoubtedly true but, "For young Vayer I would try."
      "You would fight me for him to be able to play in the river?" Arkay actually looked down, as if a bit ashamed with himself.
      "To play in the river, to laugh in the sun, to ride through the forests; yes Arkay, I would." Nashen knew, with a sure and certain instinct, the one thing Vayer required more than anything else was the freedom to make his own mistakes when they were still small enough to be dealt with easily.
      "Am I so poor a father as all that, Nashen?" he suddenly slumped in on himself.
      "No Arkay, I think Vayer was simply wanting more freedom and room to be himself than he could get at Azov." he reached out towards Arkay and touched the back of the older man's hand.
      "He was always so quiet and self-possessed. After Kirina turned out to be such a handful I'm afraid Vayer got caught in the crush."
      "Excuse me a moment." Nashen said quickly. He strode to the end of the pier. Vayer was ... there he was. His foot had gotten caught in an old rope under water. *catch!* he flipped out a knife and thought it to the young man.
      Vayer snatched it out of the water in front of him. With a quick swipe he cut the rope. He came back up to the surface with a great rush and took a deep gasping breath. "Thanks!" he shouted and tossed back the knife only slightly more normally than Nashen had sent it.
      He watched Vayer happily speed off after yet another boat and absently grabbed the knife out of the air. Nashen cleaned it and reasheathed it. As he turned back around to Arkay he saw Arkay's eyes roll up in his head in a dead faint. Barely in time did Nashen manage to catch the falling body of Vayer's father.

CHAPTER 5

      "For today's practice we have a special treat for you youngsters." Vayer almost yawned as the instructor was going on about how they were going to be learning yet another block-strike combination. Unlike his friends, he had been working out in the salle since he could walk. He had done his best not to show how the basic drills bored him so as not to hurt their feelings, but when they found out, they had bullied him into teaching them special tricks.
      Now all three of them were terrors to most of their instructors, so far ...
      "Since you have all done so very well in learning the fundamentals, we have a guest instructor for your introduction to nageric combat." This was interesting to Vayer. So far all the drills had been purely physical. Surprisingly, now that he thought about it, he was looking forward to it. "I would like to introduce to you young lords, Sharm Lord Arkay Sergeyevich Azov."
      All three of them yelped and scurried backwards to end up crammed into a corner of the salle together.
      "This is your fault!" Taryana accused Vayer.
      "No its not." Vayer snapped.
      "Yes it is!" Kelyaren agreed with Taryana.
      Vayer poked Kelyaren in the ribs with an elbow. Kelyaren tried to hook one of Vayer's ankles. Taryana tried to push Vayer out towards his father. "Children!" Arkay bellowed and they froze, except for the shaking of their knees and nervously lashing tentacles. "Here!" he pointed to a spot on the floor not a meter away from him. This did not look good. Vayer looked to Taryana for courage and didn't find any. He looked to Kelyaren who was looking at Vayer for courage. "NOW!"
      Vayer jumped and scurried forward without even thinking about it. He had heard that voice too many times as a kid to disobey it now. His friends didn't want to be left alone and scooted right after him. They came to a halt in a line in front of Arkay, all head down and eyes up. "You will address me in the salle, when necessary and asked for, as my Lord. In here I don't care who you are or where you came from. The only thing I care about is how you fight. Have I made myself clear?"
      "Yes my Lord." Vayer said, to be echoed faintly by Kelyaren and Taryana.
      "Such enthusiasm." Arkay said ironically. "Lets get to it. Kelyaren first."
      With a great deal of nageric pushing and shoving, Vayer and Taryana sent forth their sacrifice. Then Vayer had a bright idea. He reached out to Taryana and pointed up. She acknowledged the gesture.
      As soon as Kelyaren set himself, Vayer saw him, mistakenly, loose track of the real world. Vayer corrected his friend's offset as Arkay sideslipped. Together, all three of them rushed the far larger Sharm Lord. Vayer tangled his father's legs at the same time Taryana managed a high spinning kick to Arkay's chest. He went down with Kelyaren on top of him, field flaring in absolute shock. Both of the others were now blind. It was up to Vayer. With a convulsive yank, pushing off Taryana for leverage, he pulled Arkay out from under Kelyaren. He flipped Arkay over. Taryana managed to get her wits back together and caught Arkay's hands behind his back, now with Kelyaren's help.
      "Point!" the marshal, Lord Nashen, called out.
      Vayer sat on his father's ankles in absolute stunned amazement. Arkay's field was completely flat with shock. Taryana crowed her triumph. Kelyaren laughed delightedly. Together, the three youngsters had managed to best one of the top Sharm Lords in the demense. Looking up, Vayer saw an enormous grin on Nashen's face.
      "Let him up, youngsters." Nashen told them. With broad smiles the three of them helped Arkay to his feet and solicitously brushed the sand off him, until he batted their hands away. They went back to standing in front of him, this time grinning from ear to ear.
      "Yes, well ..." Arkay raised an eyebrow dubiously. "This time lets try it one at a time, shall we?"
      "Yes my Lord." they said, brightly this time, almost in harmony.
      "You never said they couldn't work together, Sharm Lord Arkay." Nashen reminded him.
      "I know, Lord Fatima." now Vayer could see the grin peeking through his father's instructor's face. "Believe me, I know." he flexed his heavy shoulders. Nashen laughed.

      The rest of the practice went far more normally, at least from Vayer's past experience. None of them managed a point after the first one. Vayer had at least gotten a single hold on his father, which he had broken with hardly any effort. Walking in small circles to keep his muscles from tightening up before his shower, he was surprised to see Nashen still there after everyone else had left.
      They hadn't been talking much lately, Vayer had been so busy with his new friends and lessons. Although they regularly now shared at least a bit of time alone together, sometimes simply watching the sunset or sharing a cup of tea. For some reason this made Vayer feel far more wanted than anything else before in his life.
      "Feel up to another round or two?" a tendril of lightning pointed towards the weapons rack.
      "Yes!" he tossed his towel on one of the benches and zipped over to the locked case. Vayer hadn't gotten a chance to try any of the sword dances since before that night.
      Laughing, Nashen came over and opened it up. Inside were the racks of standard practice swords Vayer remembered from when he was younger. Now there were two of the special weapons, only to be used by the lords of Fatima, that differed from 'live' blades only in that they were not sharpened. They were still deadly.
      Vayer was stunned. Nashen handed him the heavier of the two weapons over his arm. "My lord Fatima." he offered formally.
      Forcing his hand to steadiness he took the hilt of the sword, "By your hand, my Lord Fatima, and at your orders." He knelt holding the blade upright.
      Lord Nashen took his own and crossed blades with Vayer, "On your feet, lad. Lets see what you can do now." He grinned, startling Vayer slightly after the formality of earlier.
      Resettling his hand on the hilt Vayer noted his tentacles landed neatly in the grips prepared for them. The more generic practice blades didn't have the smooth, curved, tentacle hooks so they could be used by anyone. "It will be a bit point heavy till you are done growing, but it is better to learn with your own blade and not change half way through." Vayer shivered again at this recognition he was adult and even more, no longer Azov. Vayer had truly taken Fatima into his heart and soul, but this was the first, almost public, reconition of the fact. "The first pattern, Vayer. I'll set the tempo."
      They tapped blades to begin the dance and for the first time Vayer felt the shock transmit itself up the sword and through his tentacles. As Nashen had said, it was a tiny bit blade heavy, but still it felt like an extension of his arm like it had never been before. Strike, block, back and forth through the now remembered moves of the pattern.
      Nashen set the speed up a notch and Vayer matched him blow for blow. Up again to full speed. "Second." Nashen called out and shifted to the second pattern. Vayer almost missed the third, low exchange and got tapped on his armored wrist for his lapse.
      "Point!" he called out and caught his breath. That had stung a bit, even through the steel reinforced lip of his bracer. He swapped hands for a moment and shook out his wrist. Returning to guard, "Second, fourth exchange?" he asked.
      "Move it to Third." Nashen told him and moved to the overhand strike of the highest of the sword dances Vayer had yet learned. Vayer stepped in for the counter. A little close he thought but with a quick back step managed to return to the correct spacing.
      "Up again." Nashen shifted to the lowest level of augmentation and Vayer followed him. The third pattern started over, but this time Nashen held out his off hand. Vayer let himself zlin and matched Nashen's lighting with his own controlled tentacle of light. The nageric duel mirrored the physical, till Vayer tired a bit and Nashen caught him with his lightning and the next thing Vayer knew was looking down to see the tip of Nashen's sword against his chest.
      "Point." he called out unnecessarily and panted.
      "And match, young Vayer. Excellent." Nashen was panting as well. He wiped the sweat off his brow with the inside of his elbow.
      That looked like and excellent idea but Vayer used his free hand to do it with.
      "I take it you want to continue with this?"
      "Please? I hadn't known there was a nageric component as well as the physical. I mean, of course, my .. I mean my father taught us all about unarmed combat but other than what you taught me, I hadn't had a chance to learn." Vayer realized this was mostly incoherent, but then at the moment he was about to land on his nose.
      "You picked up the nageric really quickly, I was impressed. It took me a couple of tries, on the first pattern to get it."
      "I think it was easier since we were already augmenting." Vayer carefully checked his sword and put it away.
      "Actually it can be harder for some to manage when they are already burning excess selyn. You did very well. Want to learn the fourth?" he asked after putting away his own sword.
      "Yes!"

      He's going to be a better swordsman than I am in a few years Nashen watched Vayer patiently reposition Taryana's recalcitrant feet yet again. He's already a better teacher The two youngsters raised their wooden practice swords for the first exchange of the first pattern.
      The clatter of wood hitting wood filled the salle. The tempo was a bit ragged, but before he could say anything, Vayer got Taryana back on track. Now even again, one-two-three-four, one-two-three-four ... perfect. And end. They paused and Nashen asked Taryana if he could step in.
      "Certainly. I've had it for the day." she handed over the wooden blade and Nashen carefully set his grip.
      "You up for fifth?"
      "Once through at least, my Lord." Vayer grinned at him. The lad was so cheerful, even after turnover. Nashen felt like he had been run over by a carriage. Hopefully Diomid could do Vayer some good this month. He still worried about the fact Vayer seemed to want nothing to do with the opposite larity. Athough his growing comfort with Fatima herself was an absolute, unlookedfor, delight.
      With a clack their practice blades met and immediately they both jumped to a third level augmentation. Nashen well knew to the outside world their exchange was about to become a blur but to him it seemed as if they were still on normal time. In perfect rhythm they counted off the strokes, high, side, block, overhand, parry, his body knew the pattern and together they danced it. Nashen came back to reality with a crash of pain. "Point!" he called out and blinked. Vayer had managed to get him but good on his missed high block.
      "First point on my side." Vayer shook the sweat back from his eyes.
      "True enough m'lad. Want to try for match, no pattern this time?" he offered Vayer his first chance to apply what he had learned in the dances.
      His deep blue eyes blazed at the chance, but he was silent, as befit the solemnity of the occasion, and simply raised his blade in salute.
      Nashen matched him and took a deep breath. Nothing but silence for long moments, then with a loud crack, wood met wood. He blocked the first overhand strike and Nashen let Vayer's blade slide down his own. He tried pushing it to the side and Vayer used the momentum to come in for a second, low strike this time. Nashen danced back out of the way, and Vayer pressed his advantage. With a tap that made his ears ring, Vayer's sword connected with the top of his head. "Point!" he called out and shook his head. It had been absolutely perfect. "Ow." he said softly. He wouldn't have a knot, thanks to Vayer's excellent control, but it had stung.
      "And match." Vayer said softly and Nashen could see the wonder in his eyes at having defeated his own teacher. "Are you all right?" he laid the practice blade down on the floor gently and ran over to Nashen.
      "I'm fine. At least from the bout." he let his own tentacles extend completely to try to relieve some of the pressure which was irritating his laterals.
      "Come on, lets get a shower and I'll make you some tea. Its the least I can do for your letting me win a match"
      The lad's eyes were dancing and he had to grin back, "I did no such thing, Vayer. You won it fair and even."
      "I know," he teased. "I wanted to hear it though."

      Nashen had thought it would be a good idea to invite Sharm Lord Diomid to join them for tea. I should know better than to try to think this close to transfer Vayer hadn't said no, but then neither had he seemed particularly accepting of the idea, Nashen now realized.
      Vayer was sitting, very stiffly, on the edge of his chair. Every time Diomid moved, the youngster almost teleported across the room. "I thought it might be a good idea for you two to meet before your transfer, Vayer." Nashen looked over at Diomid, resisting the temptation to curl up with him himself.
      "Thank you, Lord Fatima." Vayer took a nervous sip of his tea. At least Diomid, when he figured out the situation, was sitting as silently and quietly as he could, which was very, very quietly. Nashen leaned towards his beautiful, wonderfully alive field and rested on it. He wanted to show Vayer how good it could be. Although now he was here, he didn't want to move.
      "I had wanted to get a chance to talk with my old friend Vayer." Diomid said quietly. "Do you remember the time Kirina got into the cabbage beds?"
      "Yes." Vayer's tentacles wrapped more tightly around his mug of tea.
      "What happened?" Nashen asked, trying to draw Vayer into seeing Diomid as the same man he had known before. There was also a bit of curiosity on Nashen's part. Diomid had been so very reticent about his past.
      "Well, someone,"
      "It was I." Vayer added softly.
      "Oh ... well, someone left the gate open to the cabbage patch and by the time anyone found her she had managed to get herself covered in mud, which she then promptly tracked through the entire foyer." Diomid sipped at his tea.
      "That sounds like Kirina." Nashen added. "She has been in one scrape and out of it again since before she was born." he laughed.
      "I like my baby sister." Vayer whispered.
      "So do I, lad. But that doesn't mean she isn't a handful." Diomid added.
      "Oh, like me." Vayer said bitterly. He set down his tea and put his head in his hands. Diomid's field reached out towards the youngster. Vayer's head snapped up as they met with a clash, making Nashen's own cringe away from the contact. "Like that." he said with a sob and bolted from the room.
      Wisely Diomid stayed behind as Nashen ran after Vayer. He let him get into his own room and slipped inside before Vayer could close the door. It's hardly larger than my closet he thought. Vayer leaped into his arms when he saw Nashen had joined him.
      Oh dear he stroked Vayer's back as the young man shook against him. "Diomid won't hurt you, Vayer. He only wanted to make you feel better."
      "Like Tyanir did?"
      "No, not at all." Damn Tyanir anyways. If he ruined Vayer I am going to hunt him down and ... I don't know what would be horrible enough to do to him. "You knew Diomid before, was he mean or hurtful then?"
      "No" Vayer admitted. "But its so icky the way his field came at me. Like slime. Like it was going to eat me."
      Nashen had never heard anyone's field described that way. "You can't live on Lord's transfer alone, youngster." he pointed out.
      "Why not? Val was great."
      "Because you would eventually become sick and die, Vayer."
      "Oh" he was even more crestfallen than before.
      Despite his earlier promise to himself not to come up with ideas before transfer, "Why don't we go to Kirov this time, rather than having Val come here? That way you can get a chance to meet some other young people and zlin some different sharm lords. Maybe one of them might be more attractive." Nashen could not understand not wanting Diomid, but different people had different tastes.
      "Really? I mean the only ones I have met have been either family or Diomid, who is almost family."
      "Really, and they probably won't know who your parents are, as long as we don't tell them." Nashen winked.
      Vayer laughed happily and snuggled deeper into his arms. Oh my beautiful son Nashen stroked Vayer's soft hair, not daring to say the words he felt out loud.

CHAPTER 6

      Vayer looked around for a safe place to hide, but the only thing he could zlin was the overlapping fields of the half dozen young sharm lords all vying for his attention. One of them tickled at him with too light a touch. Another clung to him and bound him like a child with sticky hands. A third clamored for his attention with the mental tones of out of pitch brass bells.
      Nashen and Val were sitting alongside Kir on the other side of the room. Wistfully he zlinned their peaceful, calm intertwined fields. Kir's brilliant, fiery presence gentling Nashen's lightning and Valentine's flames with practiced ease.
      Trying to do what his family wanted him to, he let himself zlin the conflicting and clashing fields surrounding him again. There was no peace on this side of the room. When Nashen had recommended this, it had sounded like a good idea. Now all he wanted to do was escape.
      He shuddered and blocked it all out again. There were too many people here, all trying to entice him. The nageric silence was replaced with a physical clamor no less annoying. "Have you seen ... Did you hear about ... Why, only last week ..." it all made no sense to Vayer. He tried to act polite, nodding at what he thought might be appropriate times, but if any of them fluttered their eyelashes at him again he would ...
      Who? he saw a figure in dark red walk into the room and whisper something to Kir. Shadows, cool, calm shadows followed in her wake, despite her heavy kador. She must have sensed his interest for she turned, making Vayer duck quickly behind one of his crowd of admirers in a sudden fit of shyness.
      A pool of spreading darkness crawled across the floor towards him. Vayer looked at it suspiciously and it jumped back. Automatically he stepped forward to zlin it better. This was like something out of a sharm tale. It retreated again. He reached out with his light. It slid around to the far side of a table and seemed to peer at him again, like a midnight black ferret wishing to play. Fields did not act like this, they simply reflected the emotions and trained actions of their wearers.
      Looking deliberately away he sidled towards the interesting phenomenon. With a sudden leap he pounced on it and came face to face with the most fascinating person he had ever met. He caught a glimpse of high, sharp cheekbones and the most aristocratic nose he had ever seen, all covered in dusky skin. "Yike!" he jumped back then realized she wasn't looking at him. She had been looking at Val! For an instant he simply looked at her. Her veil had been dropped to let her communicate with her leige lord better, but Vayer simple appreciated being able to see her face. Soft lips tempted him for the first time and he backed away, confused.
      Still she looked beyond him at Val. Vayer couldn't let her ignore him. Particulary as it seemed her field did act like this. Absolutely fascinated now by the coy and charming creature, he pressed his suit.
      "Hey!" this wasn't fair. The first time he zlinned someone interesting and they didn't even look at him when he appeared right in their face. Particularly a most beautiful young woman. Now the cool dark, calmness was washing over him. But impersonally, like water over stones. How can I get her attention again he licked his lips. This got a brief flicker and then calmness again. Nothing. He tried it again in curiosity and got no response. Reaching out to it only made it slide away from him without even the teasing this time, just like oil on a wet stone. Teased by the darkness' reticence, he forgot entirely where and who he was.
      Hmmm he retreated, trying to think of a plan. It followed him cautiously, creeping along the floor like fog with a mind of its own. He looked at the clock over the mantle, concentrating on trying to compare its time with his own, internal timesense. The coolness came and wrapped itself around his ankle. For a long time he focused his attention on the beautiful vase on the mantlepiece until his entire body was surrounded by the cool darkness and he could feel her breath on the back of his neck. Now how to catch this one. he created his plan. Slowly, so very slowly he took a step forward. Then another. She matched him step for step till he got her where he wanted her.
      As fast as he could, without bumping into her, he turned around. She turned to flee and saw Vayer's reflection in a mirror. She turned back and he grabbed her wrists with his hands only, as gently as catching a bird in the garden. Vayer dropped all pretext and let his need come to the fore. Well and truly caught, she gasped as his need hit her and she opened herself up to him. With this implicit permission he let his tentacles wrap around her arms. She leaned her head back and he took the contact off the base of her throat.
      With shining wings of light he pulled his night shadowed partner into the void with him. No longer at all reluctant he felt her cool, darkness fill the velvet black pit of need within him. Yesss! he spread his wings even wider, riding the high thermals with his new found mate.

      "By the way, I forgot to ask. What's your name?" Vayer stroked the dusky skin of her hip possessively. After the incredible transfer all he could remember was the incredible feel of her body, both inside and out. He wanted all of her. Even simply thinking of it brought about a reaction. So this is what everyone has been trying to tell me.
      "You know something, I haven't a clue what yours is either." she laughed, causing all kinds of fascinating motions along her sleek body. There was not a flaw on her, from her beautiful delicate toes to her thick, dark hair. Every bit of her seemed to fit perfectly, with not a harsh line to be found. Rounded, graceful curves, smoothly flowing into each other made her body a work of art which now fascinated Vayer as much as her field had earlier.
      "I'm lord Vayer Fatima." he deliberately left out his patronymic, as so many lesser lords were want to do.
      She raised an eyebrow at the lack, but replied, "and I am Darya Kirov. Unless you had any plans to possibly change that?"
      He wanted to know something first, "Why were you wearing mourning colors?"
      "Because I was to take the veil at the end of the month." she stated calmly.
      "What!?" he paused in his appreciation. "You are so young and beautiful and ... I can't let you do it."
      "No?" she asked archly, but took his hand. Gently, he slid his tentacles between her fingers, luxuriating in the cool, dark feel of her field twining around them.
      "I won't let you." he looked into her almost midnight dark, slate gray eyes. Vayer had never seen anyone's eyes this dark, even his own. She flipped her blue-black hair out of her eyes.
      "How so you won't let me?" she laughed and the ripple over her deep shadows distracted him for a bit too long.
      "Because I am Vayer Arkayevich and ..." he was going to add 'because I say it shall be so' and then realized he had slipped.
      "Hush, sweet. Its all right. I thought as much. I suppose you could say my curiosity got the better of me." her beautiful smile was more than enough reward. "Actually I was going to take the veil because no one would have me."
      "Idiots. You are wonderful." Vayer couldn't get over all his new discoveries today. How could anyone not want Darya's beauty and peace? he wondered.
      "And because my father was Ilya Kirovich Kirov."
      "Oh" then he broke up laughing over the improbability of the situation. "The one sharm lord in all of Kirov who catches my attention and she only came about because of my father's obsession with breeding."       Vayer knew she was the lady for him when she howled with laughter as well over the sheer unlikeliness of it all and then said, "It seems he made a good cross."
      "I would certainly agree." he pulled her into his arms for yet another of those wonderful kisses. Her body seemed to fit his like it was made for it, with her curves fitting so very perfectly against his more angular planes.

      After a far more leisurely session of getting to know each other better, Vayer noticed something strange. "Where did everyone go?"
      "As soon as we started our little dance, the Lords Kirov shooed everyone else out and then left us alone except for Lord Fatima. Somehow he managed to vanish after I caught you."
      "Nashen does that." Vayer grinned. "Hey, I caught you!" he protested.
      "I think we caught each other.
      "I think you did, youngsters." Lord Nashen strolled back into the room.
      "Yike!" Vayer tried to hide Darya from another lord, hide himself, hide his current state of nudity and look mature and responsible for his actions all at the same time. It didn't work. Actually none of it worked.
      Then Vayer had a flash of insight, His coming back now is yet another part of this learning thing. I probably would have tried to, quite foolishly, cover everything up, otherwise. He settled for trying to look aloof. Then he turned back to Darya and sighed, She is so beautiful.
      Nashen pulled up a chair and sat down facing backwards on it.
      Vayer put himself between Darya and the other Sime. A hiss of warning came from him.
      "None of that, lad." Nashen warned and Vayer felt the small sting of a warning slap from Nashen's field.
      "Oh" he stopped to think for a moment. Darya's wonderful cool darkness danced over his skin. Vayer looked at his friend sitting calmly with his arms over the back of the chair. "What is going on?" his mind finally cleared of its haze. Did I really hissed at Nashen like a cat? Vayer was taken aback by his own actions.
      Closing his eyes briefly, as in relief, Nashen said, "Good, you're thinking again. You know I won't try to get between you and Darya now, right?"
      "Now I do." Vayer sat down on the floor in front of her. Darya's hand was cool and soft as she rested it on his shoulder. He stroked the side of his face against it.
      "Exactly so, younger." Nashen got up and came over to them. Vayer moved over to make room, or at least he tried to. Problem was, Darya had the grip of death on his shoulder.
      "What is it sweet?"
      "You can't expect Lord Fatima to sit on the floor with you. It wouldn't be proper. Particularly, well, like this." she gulped audibly and her wonderful field tried to hide.
      "Its all right lass. You aren't going to hurt me with it." Nashen sat and turned his upper body towards her. "You have wonderful control for a sharm lord. Relax."
      "Yes, Lord Fatima." she said stiffly, still clutching her field to her body.
      "He isn't going to separate us, sweet." Vayer lipped at her fingers, tasting the salt on them.

      "Really, I'm not. Actually I am quite pleased Vayer has found someone he likes," actually he was about to fall on his knees in gratitude for their luck in weaning Vayer away from the tendency he had shown to almost be creating a phobia of sharm lords. When he was obviously going to refuse every single likely young sharm lord in Kirov, in desperation, Val had sent for young Darya. He had explained it would be unlikely, as every lord ever presented to her, if they had a choice in the matter, had drawn their laterals back. Although from the look of it at the time, they would have had a hard time getting any transfer into Vayer from the way he was retreating into himself with the other sharm lord's, admittedly, quite forward chase of him.
      At a first zlin, Nashen had shivered in the almost deathly stillness and cold of her field but Vayer had locked on to her like a magnet. Then he noticed while still very dark and cool there was an indescribable texture to her field and a calmness he hand never sensed in anyone else. No sudden shifts, nothing cloying or burning, but a smooth, dreaminess like the energy of a cloudy night sky in fall.
      Actually Vayer had locked onto her so hard he hadn't even noticed when everyone else had left the room. Nashen wanted to wait to be sure the two of them would be all right before he left, so he got to see the most amazing little courting dance he had ever had the privilege of witnessing. Every time Vayer had even so much as zlinned Darya her field jumped away. But when he ignored it, it came back, as if of its own accord to tease him. Nashen had almost laughed out loud when he saw Vayer physically jump onto a place where it had been drifting along the floor.
      He had almost been as surprised as Darya and her animate field when Vayer had tricked them with the mirror. As soon as they had made physical contact though, she had instantly shifted to promise. Nashen had breathed a sigh of relief at that point and worked his way towards the door. Their transfer had gone amazingly smoothly for her lack of experience and Vayer's youth and nerviness. When he had zlinned how deep and how fast it was he had then realized those two would be so post they wouldn't notice the roof caving in he left as soon as it terminated rather than playing the voyeur to the final, inevitable conclusion without worrying about them noticing his departure.
      It had been Val who had to remind him to go back in afterwards to ward off Vayer's natural Sime possessiveness while it was still easy to do. Sometimes people forgot and there was quite a mess to deal with. Any Sime could latch on to a partner with a fury that was horrific to behold, and parents and guardians of youngsters were very careful to make sure it didn't happen. Vayer had actually taken it far better than many he had heard of. When his mother had come to him afterwards he had actually struck out at her trying to keep her from Taina. One sick headache later, he never did it again. Nashen had only had to verbally reprimand Vayer to back down, despite what he could zlin as a very strong bonding between them already.
      Thinking of which, "Likes so much you are going to get yourself a big belly out of today's endeavor if you aren't careful." Vayer was still much too young for children, even if Darya wasn't. "And if you please, call me Nashen. It has never been to my taste for very beautiful, very post, young women to call me Lord Fatima. Particularly when they haven't a stitch of clothes on."
      She giggled at this and he felt her cool, restful field to shift over both of them. Now that he was accustomed to it, it felt like the most wonderful, cool, shower in summer. This was much better than the tight, cramped hiding she had first displayed when Nashen had walked back into the room.
      "I'll take care of things, Nashen." He was very glad to hear only a brief hesitation before the name. "You really don't think I'm ugly?"
      Nashen looked her over again and realized he hadn't been at all gallant in calling her beautiful, "To tell the truth, when you first walked in I didn't think so. Whoever put you in that particular cut of kador had awful taste."
      She ducked her head shyly, "I thought it would make me look thinner."
      "It did. I don't much care for women who look like boys. Personally, I far and away prefer males in my bed, but when I do look at women I want them to look like women, not twigs." With Vayer's nod of permission he let his hand stroke over her smooth hip in one gentle wave from waist to knee. "Lord Karola is not a little tiny woman either, and Sharm Lord Taina, my first love was definitely not tucked up like a hound."
      "Oh" her eyes were big and actually now that he looked carefully, an exquisite dark slate gray and not the very dark brown he had thought initially.
      "I find myself agreeing completely," Vayer, however, let his hand slide considerably further around behind Darya than Nashen had.
      "You win." she laughed and now both of them were quite appreciative of the effect this had on her body.
      Nashen realized he should probably get out of here soon before he offered young Darya a bit more than she might otherwise want. "One further thing." he waved out the lights.
      Purely nagerically he cued Vayer and together they ran their fields firmly over Darya's. She closed her eyes and leaned back with a sigh, "That feels so very, very good." While she was distracted by her body's inherent ability to sense selyn fields, he shifted himself across the room with his talent and noted she tracked him exactly, even when nothing had changed but his physical location.
      "Congratulations, Sharm Lord Darya." he told her and she looked at him, startled. Exactly so he noted her eyes were tracking completely true, she was seeing by means of the fields and not working with how her own body felt. This was the second test for a Sharm Lord, the first being, obviously, a kill. Vayer was dreadfully curious, so he explained his little test and he nodded his understanding. Their fields were deeply intertwined, already. "Now, one last question."
      "Yes," Vayer said, still more than a bit distracted, it seemed by the events of the day. Hormones, too. Nashen reminded himself with a grin.
      "Would you prefer to return with us to Fatima, Darya?"
      "Ummm" she said dreamily.
      Maybe I shouldn't have turned out the lights he silently snickered as he zlinned Vayer turn all the way around towards Darya in a very convenient position.
      "Yes, definitely." she murmured absently.
    &n