Chapter 13: And a new Friend

Yozak was actually enjoying himself; lounging in bed with a book was not something he'd had the leisure to do often – even if the bed wasn't his own. Curling up in bed with Conrart wasn't a novelty; he did it every time he was home. However, the weight of Conrart's head resting against his chest as the two read was comforting. It just felt right, like this was how things were meant to be. He shifted slightly, draping his arm across his friend's shoulders.

He had to admit law was an interesting subject. In Shin Makoku, the laws were different—or one thing murder was murder, and there was no distinction between premeditated murder and simple murder. Yet in Valdemar, there seemed to be several ways that killing someone was handled under the law. Another difference was in the way the many different species were treated in Valdemar. He was amazed to discover that killing a sentient being in Valdemar was treated the same whether or not the person in question was a human being.

: Why does that surprise you, Chosen? :

Yozak sighed, not particularly happy with the conversation he'd unwittingly started. :Because, although it is illegal to murder a human or a demon, until recently murdering a half-breed had no punishment unless somebody felt the need to argue their death, and prove the worth they had to the crown. At which point their murder was handled more on the basis of the theft of their services to the crown then on the fact that a person had been murdered. Yuri found out about that archaic law last year and changed it. He was the first Maoh to handle the murder of a half-breed the same way he would have handled the murder of a full blood demon.: *

He could feel Jissa's horror at that confession, and it reminded him of Yuri's response to the law after the murder of a young half-breed had brought it to light. He also remembered Conrart breaking his right pinky finger after he punched the wall.

: At least your King Yuri had the courage and sense of justice to change the law. : She said after a moment.

Whatever he would have said to that was cut off by a jolt of pain as Conrart fell asleep against his shoulder. His borrowed book slipped from sleep slackened fingers, to land spine down in Yozak's lap. He gasped as the book's hard spine hit a rather tender portion of his anatomy. He'd say this for Conrart—even asleep the man had impeccable aim! It took every ounce of his will power not to start swearing like the lowborn soldier he was.

He was so preoccupied with the pain lancing up his body that he failed to notice the young man in the doorway until he spoke.

"That looked painful," the man said in a deep baritone.

Yozak turned his head slightly and scrutinized the young man in front of him. He looked to be somewhere between nineteen and twenty-two. Pitch black hair only just brushed his shoulders, and green eyes sparkled with mischief. He was larger than Conrart, but not nearly as built as Yozak. He wore nothing but a long nightshirt, of the same cut and cloth as the one Conrart currently wore. It marked him as a patient in the House of Healing. From the whisper in the back of his mind that was his beloved Companion Jissa, he knew the man was called Tykir. She also told him that Tykir was Chosen of Companion Rhandal.

"It was," Yozak said simply before adding "My Jissa tells me you are Tykir." When the man nodded, he continued. "I'm Trainee Yozak, and 'Mr. Impeccable Aim' here is Conrart."

Yozak watched quietly as Tykir walked into the room and perched himself calmly on the end of Conrart's bed. He was amazed Conrart didn't wake; the man was an absurdly light sleeper. It was a testament to both his exhaustion and his trust in Yozak.

"Ran tells me that we've had eight new trainees brought in since I started my three weeks here." Tykir said, his voice pitched low so that he didn't disturb the sleeping trainee. "It's good to finally meet some of them. So where are you from?"

~~~***~~~

Yozak was amazed at how easy it was to talk to Tykir. He sat there for a little over an hour just talking with the young man, with Conrart tucked up against his chest. Tykir it seems was the second eldest son of a traveling merchant. His entire family had traveled across the land, in caravans selling everything from dyes to exotic fabrics, spices, pottery, jewelry, weaponry, and even more exotic things like Griffin feathers. Apparently, the caravan had come to Haven for the summer fair five years ago. After a few days of work, the then fifteen year old Tykir had gone off with his younger siblings and several of his cousins to explore the city itself, and found himself staring up into a sea of infinite blue.

Apparently his grandmother had had more of a fit regarding his being Chosen then Yuri had had when Conrart was Chosen. But that was only because in the end Yuri had done what was best for his friend and let him go. She'd been furious at losing one of her grandsons. Tykir she'd lost to his Companion and the Heraldic Circle and much to her dismay she'd lost his younger brother Leon three years later to the Mage Collegium.

"What about you? My Randy tells me you aren't from Velgarth. So where are you from, and what is it like there?"

Yozak sighed; he wasn't – quite – sure how much to tell the young man.

He told him about Shin Makoku and about the two tribes that lived in their world. He also told him about how the two tribes had been in the middle of what pretty much amounted to a cold war since the beginning of their nation. He also told the young man about their boy king, and how Yuri had brought an end to the shadow of war that hung over their people by somehow doing what no Maoh since Shinou himself had managed, forming an alliance between the two tribes. He mentioned the Flybone Tribe, The Fishbone Tribe, and about the Dragon preserves. He also explained the substantial difference in the life spans of the two races, and the animosity that stemmed from that difference.

Abruptly the man snorted and gestured at Conrart curled up against his chest. Startled and a little annoyed, Yozak glanced down at his friend –

And almost laughed aloud!

Conrart had made a fist of his hand and managed to hook his index finger over the bridge of his nose.

He hadn't done that in more than seventy years!

Yozak was very well aware that from Tykir's point of view, it looked like Conrart was sucking his thumb, which was something he didn't think Conrart had ever done!

Rolling his eyes and grinning like a loon, he unhooked Conrart's finger from the bridge of his nose and tucked the offending appendage against the younger man's chest. He shifted Conrart, until he gently lowered the man to rest against the pillows. Carefully he rearranged the covers, tucking them up around his friend's slim shoulders. Brushing a strand of Conrart's hair away from his face, he lost himself briefly in memories of the past. He remembered the bright eyed little boy he'd met so many years ago.

The sweet boy, who'd taken an orphan nearly eight years his senior, under his wing and taught him how to read and write, and survive in the royal courts; he'd given his heart to that boy all those years ago. Nearly twelve decades later Conrart still had his heart; the only difference was that his own feelings were no longer as innocent as they'd once been. He remembered playing in the palace courtyards, he also recalled Gwendal yelling at Conrart to act according to his rank. Conrart had taught him how to love and trust after the death of his parents, and the pain he'd suffered at the hands of one son of the Belar line. In return, he taught Conrart how to play, and walk across rooftops, and he took great pride in the fact that he was one of very few people who ever saw Conrart smile. He was also the only person who could get Conrart grinning like an idiot, or doubled over in nearly manic laughter!

That was one of the advantages of being Conrart's childhood friend. Conrart let his guard down around him, enough to actually be Conrart.

Not Lord Weller, son of the late Dan Hiri Weller.

Not Captain Weller, of the Shin Makoku armed forces.

Not Conrad, godfather and personal guard of King Yuri.

Not Prince Conrart.

Just Conrart.

He was pulled back to the present by Tykir's voice. "Not that it matters between Heralds, but are you shaych?"

Yozak blinked, startled by the question. In Shin Makoku nobody cared about things like that. "I've never put much thought into the gender of my lovers; so long as they're willing, I don't care." He replied at last.

Tykir appeared to think about that for a moment before he replied, "I didna seek to affend ye," he said, picking up what some part of Yozak recognized as a trader's cant, a cant he'd likely lost years ago. "T'is merely the way ya act towards him. Ye be too familiar with him ta be naught but friends, yet Ye'r – You are not familiar enough with him to be old lovers. Ya ken?"

Yozak smothered a laugh at how flustered the young man had become—it was strange to think that this man was technically his age! It was also weird to know that in a year's time Tykir would be considered his senior. It was also kind of sad to think about the fact that the really young trainees he'd seen today would grow old and die before his very eyes while he remained young. He remembered his first 19 years among humans vividly. He remembered children who had been his friends shunning him almost as soon as his aging began to slow down; he remembered being 10 years old but looking like he was six. He remembered the work camp he and his mother had been forced into. He'd been sent there for his demonic blood and his mother because she had refused to leave him, and as such had been given the same death sentence. He also remembered watching his mother waste away from starvation.

Yet those memories, horrible as some of them were, were now little more than distant memories. He had spent some time in the Nameless Village among his own kind, but he had grown up with Conrart in the heart of Shin Makoku's capital city, where he had aged just like everyone else. He'd spent plenty of time among humans, thanks to his job, but they were not his people and in the end he always went back to his home, to Conrart, to his family.

"You didn't offend me. Conrart and I met when we were very little, we grew up together. Hell we once chased each other naked through an ornamental fountain! We're not lovers, we're just very close." He told the young man in front of him.

A sleepy voice from the vicinity of his hip drew both of their attentions to Conrart. "I believe I told you that if you ever mentioned that incident again you'd regret it, Yozak." Conrart's threat was foiled by an ill timed yawn.

"Well, welcome to the land of the living, Captain Sleepy! Did you enjoy your nap?" Yozak asked, completely ignoring the threat.

Conrart sat up, rubbing at his eyes with the back of one hand in a manner cutely reminiscent of a five year old! Yozak smiled, he was the only person who ever got to see Conrart when he woke up, and the only one who ever saw Conrart before 'The Captain' came out for the day! Idly, he wondered if Tykir could appreciate the significance of what he was getting a glimpse of. Conrart must have been A) really tired, or B) really comfortable with the young man's presence.

"You're lucky you're between me and the wall, or you'd be getting better acquainted with the floor." Conrart grumbled.

Yozak laughed, "You are just mad because I have the strategic advantage."

The younger man arched one delicate eyebrow, and mock scowled in a manner that closely resembled his elder brother's habitual expression. "I'd strike you, but that would take effort." Conrart retorted mildly, trying and failing to keep the laughter out of his voice.

"Careful captain, your face will freeze that way." Yozak replied, in his usual mocking manner, before adding flippantly. "Okay… if you really want to wrinkle -"

He flinched, overdramatically clutching at his 'wounded' arm, after Conrart swatted his shoulder lightly despite the 'effort' the action had required on his part. "Owwie!" he whined mockingly, "that's going to bruise."

Tykir just laughed.

The soft sound drew Conrart's attention. "Yozak, pray do me the honor of introducing me to your friend."

Yozak suppressed a flinch; he hated it when Conrart took that painfully proper tone with him. Perhaps it was because the brunette rarely did so? He sighed, recalled to his manners, "Conrart Herald Trainee Tykir, Tykir Herald Trainee Conrart." Turning his head he gave Conrart his cheekiest grin.

Conrart rolled his eyes. "Nice to meet you," he said calmly.

Wherever the conversation may have gone was interrupted by the appearance of a tall slim man in Healer Greens. The man gave them the same look Conrart's father had given them decades ago when he'd caught them giggling in their tent hours after dark. Yozak suppressed the urge to laugh at the man's words as he ordered them to bed like little boys. Tykir bowed to the healer's wishes, excusing himself to return to his room down the hall. Yozak paused briefly unsure whether or not he should return to the rooms he'd been assigned earlier, or stay with Conrart. As much as he wanted to stay, he also knew Conrart would not appreciate his fussing over him. Conrart was a proud man, and he hated being treated as if he was made from spun glass.

With a mental sigh he gathered his books, pulled on his boots, slung his new gray tunic over his arm, and excused himself from the room.

~~~***~~~

*based off of how adultery was treated before the 1900's. Adultery was actually a crime of theft. The murder of a surf on a lord's lands was treated in a similar manner until the 1600s in some countries.