Chapter 8

  “You have not been saying things fully,” Nazeer accused.

  He was an older gentleman, well-groomed with a stylish mustache and shimmering grey hair. Any of his exposed dark skin was etched with tattoos that were mostly indiscernible by his clothes. His face had once born markings as well, but he had had them removed after setting foot on the continent so as not to be constantly gawked at.

  Fitted in a maroon suit of silk and resting a polished walking stick by his side, Nazeer appeared very much a sophisticated rogue who had come to appreciate the finer things.

  Sabina gave a shallow nod. “I have been as forthright as I can be.” She was hosting company and had shared the news of Hektor’s future with her two guests.

  “You keep away the sweets, Duchess,” Nazeer scoffed. A social mimic, he could speak nearly a dozen languages, but being a polyglot made his speech a might unconventional.

  Nazeer Haskeem was a man of the world. A traveler, he had traversed across seas and continents, through wilderness and civilizations. Only in his later years to end up putting roots in Faymoren. Few people in a room could claim to be more well-versed and experienced of different cultures than Nazeer.

  “You have been deceptively quiet, Thadeus,” Delia noted.

  Thadeus withheld a sigh. He had gone rusty to rooms of intrigue and nobility. “Begging your pardon. What do you wish of me?”

  Nazeer looked at Thadeus disapprovingly. “You do not have to be so dull, Alan.”

  Thadeus ignored the man and kept his eyes on Sabina.

  “I want your opinion.”

  “It is well planned, Your Grace” Thadeus admitted. “I can’t fault the endeavor. There is not much that yourself and Lady Webb haven’t anticipated. Nicely done,” Thadeus said with an acknowledging nod.

  “And Hektor?” Sabina asked patiently.

  Thadeus stared Sabina in the eye and it was evident that the man had strong feelings on the matter.

  “Permission to speak bluntly, Your Grace,” Thadeus was civil enough to ask. Sabina acquiesced.

  “I can imagine your reasons, Sabina,” he admitted. “Truly, I can. It makes a great deal of sense. For all the challenges Hektor will face, if he comes through, his prospects look so much more promising.

  “But I have my doubts. It is a risk, Sabina. One that I don’t think is entirely necessary,” Thadeus spoke heatedly. “Hektor is still hurting, but he is recovering. Every time I see him, I watch him grow. Stronger and livelier. This, this could break him, Sabina.”

  “What would you suggest?” It was Delia who asked.

  “Nothing that you haven’t already thought of, I’m sure,” Thadeus addressed the ladies. “As it is, it is too late. Things have passed the point of return. I must say, I do not appreciate the rush of all this, ladies! Nor that I wasn’t informed beforehand.

  “If I was, I would have reasoned that for all that has happened, to let Hektor be. Let him grow older, wiser and stronger before grooming him. I would have rather left the boy to his own devices. Find his own path. Let things come to him. Let him travel. Perhaps have him apprentice or take in the Academies. He has the mind for it.

  “Surely there would have been opportunities in the future to bring him into the fray, if you so wished. There was no need for the hurry. Unless I am missing some pivotal detail that made it crucial for Hektor to be chosen, I would have begged you to not let him be a part of this.”

  Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

  “It is not as bleak as you are making it out to be,” Delia interjected. “Hektor will be protected at all times and surrounded by those entrusted to guide him.”

  “He’s still a child, Delia!” Thadeus exclaimed. “He has already grown far too quickly as it is. Do not force burdens on him that he could do without. A plain life, a simple life has its charms. Perhaps he could find peace and happiness in it.”

  “That choice is not closed to him,” countered Delia. “If he does not take to governance, then he will not be forced to.”

  “And his marriage to Croft?” Thadeus argued.

  “That is a little more complicated,” Delia conceded. “But you know the nature of such things. The arrangement with the Crofts could be fruitful and last for decades to come. Who’s to say that Hektor and Gwen don’t blossom as a couple? Or that a that they could become friends and allies if not anything else?

  “Or the union could fail,” Delia shrugged, blasé to the possibility. “Rest assured that Hektor will not be abandoned,” she stated as gospel.

  “Sabina, forgive me for asking, but why such drastic parenting with Hektor and not the others?” Thadeus asked carefully.

  Delia tensed and Nazeer sat up.

  Sabina held her countenance, though she had to make an effort of it. “The question answers itself. Reginald and Albert weren’t born the men they became,” Sabina trailed off. “My most fervent hope is that things are different with Hektor.”

  Instantly regretful, Thadeus bowed his head. “Apologies, Duchess. That was unfair of me.”

  Sabina waved a dismissive hand. “Hektor is caged here in Faymoren, Alan. He is stuck. He must leave. Heal. Find happiness.”

  “And you Nazeer,” Delia asked, giving Sabina a chance to overcome her grief. “What do you say?”

  Preening, Nazeer cleared his throat theatrically, twirling his cane. “There is an insect in the swamps of Uzil called jehrukh. It means,” he furrowed his brows. “What do you call things that get caught in your hair? Tiny leaf branches.”

  “Twigs?” Thadeus offered, but then remembered that Nazeer had absurdly started talking about an insect.

  “Yes, twig,” Nazeer stroked his chin. “The jehrukh means hiding twig. As the name means, the jehrukh is an insect like a twig. It is very thin and around the length of my big finger.”

  Thadeus winced at his choice of words.

  “It has stick legs bigger than its body. It only eats leaves and is harmless, like the name.

  “But the jehrukh is strange. It has nothing to defend with and all it does is hide. It never moves when hiding. It does not move when other insects and birds bite its dead legs. It does not move even when they bite its body. It knows only to eat leaves and hide.”

  Nazeer looked across his audience to gauge their attention before continuing, “After some time in its life, the jehrukh burrows into the bark of the tree. What do you call when an insect changes?”

  “Molts?” Thadeus suggested helpfully.

  “The jehrukh molts,” Nazeer picked up the word unabashedly, “and it grows legs like needles. It is then called ubelrukh, meaning brave twig. Maybe it means protector twig or guard twig,” Nazeer wondered and shook his head. “Now the ubelrukh makes venom and then goes to fight ants and worms and other insects on its tree. It eats only leaves, but hunts even then. When it grows bigger, it fights spiders, lizards and birds with its venom. It doesn’t need to, but the ubelrukh hunts.

  “The ubelrukh protects the jehrukh on its tree,” Nazeer revealed. “While the hiding twigs hide, the brave twig fights and chases away danger.

  “Very strangely, if you put the ubelrukh on a tree with no jehrukh, it doesn’t fight anymore. It just eats leaves and only fights when provoked.”

  Nazeer scratched his throat, contemplating on how to expound his wisdom if he hadn’t already made it abundantly clear.

  “Hektor is like the jehrukh. All he knows is to eat and hide. And that is all he will do until he,” Nazeer paused to remember, “until he molts. Then he will not be jehrukh and be ubelrukh. And he will need to make his venom and fight like ubelrukh.”

  Nazeer withdrew into his chair and imitated a bored visage to his listeners.

  “Hektor is a strange boy. He is weak. He is afraid. He is a coward. But he is hiding. Because he is brave. He has courage and strength. He is clever and kind. But he must not forget that he is hiding and not become what he is pretending.”

  Nazeer swirled his wine glass, took a sniff before sipping. He enjoyed prolonging the performance, captivating such esteemed company.

  “Boy becomes man. They grow and find their way. All of us do. That is life. You say that Hektor has suffered and hurt. So what?” Nazeer swiped his arm widely. “Life is unfair. It is hard and cruel. It is beautiful also.”

  Nazeer looked to Sabina. “There are countless lives to be had beyond what you think, Duchess. You have pushed your son on to a path, but you cannot walk beside him all the way. The path will change and Hektor will change in his journey. You can help. You can hope. But you cannot prepare for everything. Things will go right and they will go wrong,” Nazeer decreed with indifference.

  “Speaking truth, it is simple. Hektor is your son, Duchess. You are his mother. You love him. What a mother says, the son obeys. Motherhood is your right and you are a good mother. When you tell Hektor what to do, he should be quiet and do. When he grows into a man, he is on his own. As it should be.”