Reaching Rhaz
The wagon jostles Khimi as it ambles across the cobbled sandstone streets of Rhaz. He looks down at Lumi’s head resting in his lap, the blond hair tousled and disheveled from the journey. Gently, he brushes it away from Lumi’s face, revealing the drool dripping from the boy’s mouth onto Khimi’s sarouel. Khimi grimaces at the wetness on his pants and so takes a battered kerchief from their kit and places it between them.
His thoughts return to the remainder of their time spent in the temple. The final moments had been filled with teary goodbyes: Lumi wishing his roommates farewell, along with the other acolytes; an icy embrace from High Priestess Amani and a warmer send-off from the Saint of Life. Khimi recalls the intense envy that had overcome him when Lumi said his farewells to a large yilan man, who Khimi had not recognized and who had presented Lumi with a gift. Later, after their departure, Lumi had unwrapped it to show him the ‘special’ garb inside, which Khimi had recognized immediately as that worn by royal concubines in Dolmas. He had made the decision to play coy and to forgo questioning their closeness and familiarity. Luckily, Lumi had chosen to reveal the nature of his relationship with Hasim: that of teacher and eager student, in the subject of battle. Khimi still feels his shock at learning of Lumi’s success with spears, only to be supplanted when he had learned Lumi could use divine magick.
With a sigh, Khimi leans back against the wooden wall of the caravan, feeling the rough texture against his back. Their trip could not end soon enough, if only to end his musings. When he returns his focus to the wagon, he flinches at the intensity directed at him by Rashid, staring him down from across the wagon. His advisor’s smug look does nothing to diminish Khimi’s annoyance. He turns away and gazes out from the back of the wagon to the bustling streets of Rhaz.
Whenever Khimi returns from traveling, he savors the ways Rhaz is unlike the other Desert Cities. It is vibrant where Porat is plain, loud where Betset is somber, and wild where Sidi is staid. Though he had sometimes yearned to see his mother at the Sidian family estate, Khimi could sink into the atmosphere here. Situated between the Emerald Coast and the Great Expanse, Rhaz is a trade hub and a popular crossroads, a stop on the trek for merchants headed north to Loria or headed south to Dolmas. The constant travel and heavy commerce had developed there a melting pot of cultures and communities. However, it held an enduring reputation for questionable morals and desirous merchants.
Rashid’s voice breaks through his thoughts. “Is there a joke here about sleeping lions?” he says through a chuckle.
Khimi’s eyes narrow at his remark. “I don’t recall,” he replies coolly. “Would you prefer that I disturb his peace?”
Rashid scoffs and leans closer to him. “Be careful, Khimi. I’ve heard from some of the acolytes that the ‘lion’ is quick to bare his fangs,” he whispers with a teasing lilt. “Do ya not recall he got into a bit of’ trouble with some young girls? Does it not strike y’as strange?”
“He explained the situation to me and I stand by his actions,” Khimi replies quietly. He can feel his hackles rising; he cannot tell if he wants to defend Lumi to Rashid or to defend his own decisions to himself.
“And would y’ve reacted the same as he? I know ya well enough to know ya would’ve let those girls be.” Rashid pauses to check if Lumi is still asleep before he continues speaking. “Perhaps the boy still needs to learn to control that temper.”
Khimi sighs, growing annoyed with Rashid’s changing opinions. As if you have not told me countless stories of you losing your temper as a paladin. He declines to speak it, preferring to avoid escalation of the issue.
“This is not a discussion any longer,” he states. He hopes the unsaid ‘you old bastard’ carries in his tone. “The circumstances at the Temple were painful for Lumi. He is away from those circumstances, and thus the issue will resolve itself now that he is in Rhaz.”
Rashid gives Khimi a knowing look and leans closer to his charge. “If ya think y’can handle him, and if he brings ya happiness, then I’ve no concerns.” His expression turns serious as he adds, “Just don’t treat him like a stray kit. Ya took him—ya cannot back out now.” He leans back against the wagon wall and smirks. “So don’t come crying t’me when ya can’t handle—”
“I won’t,” Khimi cuts him off. In his lap, Lumi stirs from slumber with a long yawn. “Finally awake?” he teases, removing the soiled kerchief from beneath Lumi’s mouth.
Lumi sits up, rubbing his eyes and wiping away the trail of drool with a drowsy expression, and peers through the canvas flap absently When recognition hits, Khimi sees his ears twitch in interest. “Huh? We’re here?!” His voice cracks with excitement before fading to a whisper, “I didn’t remember that I passed through here once, with Eustes.”
“Why the shock?” Rashid interrupts, noticing Lumi’s expression.
“I’m nervous! I have never been in a city for long,” Lumi replies softly. “At the Temple, they say all kinds of bad things about the Desert Cities … but I am looking forward to it. Seeing all the new things, and living in a house.”
“A house!” Rashid caws, and begins to chuckle. “Khimi, do ya think y’ve ever lived in ‘a house’? Boy, y’re staying in a palace,” he adds, leaning in conspiratorially. “Proper grand-like.”
Khimi pinches the bridge of his nose. “Rashid. You are being ridiculous,” he grumbles. He cannot fathom what has come over his advisor during this trip. “He is overstating it, Lumi. It is modest when compared to the temple or even my childhood home,” he says matter-of-factly. “But I think you will like it, just the same.”
“Now y’re the one being ridiculous,” Rashid teases, crossing his arms over his broad chest and narrowing his eyes playfully. “Modest, he says.”
Lumi coos appreciatively, “Khimi, from everything you told me, I’m sure I will love it.” He glances between the two men, seeming to Khimi unable to read the tension.
The wagon rocks across the cobblestones before finally turning through sandstone-and-wrought-iron fence into the front court. Lumi climbs down eagerly from his seat and crawls on his knees to the back of the wagon. Khimi’s expression brightens at the sight of Lumi perched excitedly at the end of the wagon, his long tail wagging back and forth in anticipation.
“Where’d the rest of the wagons go?” Lumi asks, curiosity shining in his aqua eyes.
Khimi points past him towards the fence. “The turn to the stables is behind us, but this path leads to the estate. I should have woken you earlier, so that you could have watched the full approach,” he says cheerfully. He chooses to place a warm hand on Lumi’s shoulder.
“He’ll see it a thousand times soon enough,” Rashid interjects, snorting with amusement at the two. “Rhaz is big, but it doesn’t go on for miles like Dolmas or Loria. Ya could walk Dolmas y’r whole life and ya’d discover more each day. An adventurous sort could learn everything about Rhaz in a year,” he adds with a knowing look between the two of them.
“A year! Getting to learn somewhere like that would be a dream,” Lumi says earnestly, pressing back into Khimi’s hand reassuring gesture. “I want to see all your favorite places, Rashid!” He flashes his sharp fangs in a smile.
“Bah, us two will have plenty of time while Lord Zeybek is occupied. Let him take ya out first,” Rashid scoffs good-naturedly. He stands up in the wagon, grabbing hold of the wooden siding for balance. “Seems he can’t keep his hands off ya, anyway!” he adds with a hearty laugh behind him, as he moves towards the front of the wagon and the canvas cover there. “Baqil,” he calls out to their driver. They strike up a procedural conversation.
Self-conscious at the attention, Khimi runs his fingers through his cropped hair. “I thought similarly. Then, Rashid, I trust you can see to the drivers’ wages and the horses?” he asks Rashid pointedly, glaring back at him. He feels the need to assert his position between the three of them.
“I suppose y’ll show young Lumi around the estate, my lord?” Rashid asks, bracing himself as the wagon slows.
“Is that a problem?” Khimi counters as he watches the older man struggle to keep balance.
“Only that I want to see the Lumi’s face when ya show ‘em ‘round the ‘house’.”
Khimi replies bluntly, “You two can catch up later.” As the car halts with their arrival, Khimi hops out of the wagon through the open sides. “Lumi,” he mutters, holding out his hand for Lumi to take.
“We’re here?” Lumi asks in awe, taking Khimi’s outstretched hand.
He pulls Lumi against himself, feeling the quickening beat of the aslan’s heart against his own chest. Khimi gazes down at Lumi, mesmerized at the open expression staring back at him. A confident grin grows on his face as he turns Lumi around to show him his new home.
The facade of the Rhaz estate is composed of large blocks of sandstone, stretching into the city skyline and protecting the grounds. The Zeybek guards on-site sport colorful studded brigandines and starched linen trousers; they form a line at the grand entrance, adding to the regal air. From the time Khimi took on management of the Rhaz estate, he had avoided active participation in the role’s pageantry; now, as he shows Lumi, he wants nothing more than for it to impress him.
He can feel Lumi tremble with excitement as they pass the guards through the central entrance. Khimi hopes his arm is a steady anchor for Lumi, just as Lumi’s had been for him when they toured the temple so long ago. The guards in their formation give Khimi a cursory nod as salute, but he watches as their gaze falls to the aslan nestling into their liege. He chooses to ignore their critical eyes.There it is. As someone who has always believed in equality among all races, he knows that such biases against beastkin are unfortunately widespread in Talmus. Despite the prevalence, he had never understood the basis of the prejudice nor the rationale for them to continue.
“Wait—hold on!” Lumi calls from under his arm, poking his head up to face Khimi. “This is your house?!” he exclaims, jaw dropping in awe.
Rashid laughs from the wagon. “Told ya! Proper palace, Lumi.”
“This is my home… and if you care to stay, it will be yours as well,” Khimi replies, blushing while he takes in the view of the Zeybek Estate.
Lumi squeals with excitement. “You’ll never get me to leave!” he says, the sound echoing in the hall. “Lead on, please! Where do we go first?”
“We could start with the courtyard: the palms are doing well and the shade is peaceful. I think you’ll like it.” Then, he leans in closer, a playful glint in his eye. “Unless you’d rather see the bedroom first?”
Lumi flushes up to his eyes. “Y-yeah. Let’s do that.” He burrows against Khimi’s arm once more. “Show me!”
Khimi leads him through the threshold and past the towering, intricate carved doors; Khimi had always felt unnerved by their black lacquered surface, a design choice made by previous tenants. Moving swiftly, the lovers pass an array of rooms: foyers, seating areas, offices, bedrooms, and the like, all drenched in natural light from large window installations. They continue through covered walkways to reach the central annex, encircled by the courtyard created by high walls. The courtyard is scaped with lush greenery, topped by arched palms and tall desert succulents, and sequesters a serene pond against the annex exterior.
Taking a gilded key from his vest, Khimi jingles it for Lumi’s benefit before he sits it into the ornate lock on the door’s surface. With a sharp twist, he unlocks the mechanism and pushes into the room. He gestures for them to enter and looks warmly at his space. In one corner, he had designed a low seating area with dozens of dressy cushions scattered across the floor. Above the entrance lies a specially-crafted window of blue-tinted glass, engineered to cast a watery gleam against the sandstone walls.
A large poster bed stands at the room center, adorned with rippled sheer curtains suspended from a wooden canopy. Potted palms and ferns had been placed specifically in each corner, abutting wooden screens with climbing ivy. Lumi ventures into the room, eyes wide, and pauses at a wading pool carved in the floor, mere steps from the poster bed. Khimi had often found himself raking his eyes across the surface of it, crafted as it is with countless gold and cerulean mosaic tiles; it is his favorite representation of the Zeybek family standard.
Lumi gapes in awe as he takes in the surroundings. “You built a bath in your bedchamber?” he murmurs playfully, but contradicts himself when he dips his feet into the mild water.
“I did. Do you like it?” Khimi asks with a hint of nerves in his voice as takes his hand and guides him away from the steps.
“I think I might be at a loss for words,” Lumi begins. “I’ve never seen anything like this before. How is your bedroom more lovely than the Temple of Life?”
Khimi removes his and Lumi’s kits, only to drop them onto the tile below. “I’m glad you think it lovely,” he whispers as he pulls Lumi close to him. “It is all ours.”
Fully enveloping Lumi in his arms, Khimi grazes his beard and chin against Lumi’s rounded ears. Lumi reciprocates with his arms around Khimi’s waist and pulls them closer still, before he guides them backwards to the bed. Khimi can’t help but loose an easy laugh as Lumi tips them behind him, pulling both onto the mattress. Fiendish little lion. Khimi brings his lips down across Lumi’s forehead, working along his face, until his warm breath passes over Lumi’s parted lips before they meet there.
Khimi feels when Lumi’s knee nudges between his legs as he grips Lumi’s waist and twists his fingers into the linen chiton. Lumi whimpers between kisses, his tail thumping the bed in rhythmic anticipation. Khimi’s heart races. It had only been moments since they had walked into the room, and already he fills with desire. A muscled hand slides beneath Lumi’s tunic, and Lumi’s inner thighs radiate heat. Hells, I knew I should have put Rashid in a different wagon. I’ve needed to touch him like this the whole journey. Resolving to make up for lost time, his lips part to allow their tongues to meet.
While Lumi kisses back hungrily, Khimi runs his hand further up the linen chiton across the soft expanse of skin until his fingertips brush against Lumi’s sack. There, he can feel the hardness of Lumi’s erection throbbing against him through the white fabric, damp already with precum.
“Excited?” Khimi taunts in a husky whisper.
Lumi gasps and nods impatiently in response. “Y-yeah, yes.”
Khimi reorients his balance against Lumi, allowing his fingers to move with finer precision past Lumi’s supple abdomen and down to his eager hole. He watches Lumi’s shifting expression as he presses his middle finger against the flinching entrance.
“Does it hurt?” Khimi asks softly, his lips trailing over Lumi’s chest and coming to rest on his hardened bud. With a gentle tug, he pulls aside the fabric to reveal the swollen skin beneath.
“N-no, it was just sudden,” Lumi whimpers, but Khimi sees his fingers clenching the cotton bedding beneath him. He can feel their hearts both racing, his own with desire and nervousness.
Khimi whispers, “I can slow down.” He teases the sensitive nipple with his tongue before taking it into his mouth, suckling gently.
“Don’t slow down…” Lumi pleads, reaching a trembling hand into Khimi’s dark, raven hair. “Sh-show me you want me,” he begs, pressing Khimi’s mouth fiercely against his chest in desperation.
With a wicked grin, Khimi bites down hard on Lumi’s sensitive nipple, causing a sharp gasp to escape from Lumi’s lips.
“Rough—you can be rougher,” Lumi whispers, in between breathless moans. He draws his leg between them up from the bed; his knee reaches Khimi’s elbow. “I’m tougher than I look.”
Lumi cries out again as Khimi’s teeth sink once more into his perked nipple, leaving impressions on his flushed skin.
“Your ass… is so warm,” Khimi breathes out pantingly, between each bite and suckle, reveling in the sensation.
Khimi presses up against Lumi’s foot as it rubs along Khimi’s legs, ghosting over his covered hardness. He can feel when the toes curl while Khimi puts further pressure to the finger edging inside. He bites and sucks on the hardened nipple, dripping with saliva. Pulling up from it, Khimi drags his lips along Lumi’s chest and neck. Lumi whimpers and presses against Khimi’s finger underneath him. Khimi sits up to observe Lumi’s body when his finger finally passes the rim. He watches the narrow chest hitch and drop in concert with Khimi’s movements, his youthful form squirming feverishly. Khimi raises his gaze to Lumi’s face; they stare deeply into one another’s eyes. A primal need, altogether unfamiliar to Khimi, crashes through him. I want to feel him, he thinks; Lumi’s lips tremble with unspoken words and desperation. When he intuits what Lumi needs, Khimi lets a cocksure expression spread across his face.
It is no surprise to Khimi when Lumi finally whispers, “Fuck me?” At the same time, he runs a cupped hand along Khimi’s forearm and up to his cheek with a caress full of tenderness and longing.
Khimi hurriedly tugs at his sarouel’s drawstrings; released from the opened pants, his cock leaps up with potent enthusiasm. It hangs over Lumi as its precum drips down in a heavy line to Lumi’s chest. The sight of his cock, positioned like that, shocks him: the tip of it reaches past Lumi’s navel below. It’s going to kill him, Khimi thinks, anxiety lacing his lust.
As he thinks on the mechanics, a series of loud knocks on the dense wooden doors interrupts the moment. A soft woman’s voice calls out his name several times. “Lord Zeybek, there are individuals in the sitting-room who were awaiting your arrival,” she announces loudly through the door.
Khimi hangs his head. “I am sorry,” he begins, a frustrated look on his face, while he tucks his cock back into his trousers. “Will you wait for me?”
“It’s alright,” Lumi whispers. He sits up quickly and pulls his chiton down over his body. “Figured you would be busy,” he says, his ears drooping. He looks about the room, averting his gaze from Khimi.
“My lord…?” the voice asks loudly. “Should I ask them to wait longer?” In a heady haze, Khimi cannot place a name to the voice.
Khimi balls his fist. “No! No, I will attend them. Please pass on the message that I needed a moment to collect myself!” he shouts, sitting on the edge of the bed.
“Don’t be upset with yourself, Khimi!” Lumi chirps, before he places his hand on Khimi’s back.
Khimi lets out a heavy sigh; he turns around to stare solemnly at Lumi. “I should have had the forethought to ask about visitors when we arrived. I was as excited as you were,” he murmurs. “There was not a moment in the caravan I could take my eyes off you, not a moment I did not want to be with you.”
Lumi bites his lip. “Y-yeah, I felt the same, but… For Rashid’s sake, I kept to myself!” he laughs in turn, placing his forehead against Khimi’s back. “You should really see to your guests. We will be together soon!” he adds reassuringly.
Rising to full height, Khimi straightens his clothes and turns to face Lumi. “Yes, we will,” he mutters determinedly. “Perhaps you could take the time to explore the city now. Or, if you’d prefer… wait for me here,” he growls.
A small grin alights Lumi’s lips. He stands himself and leads Khimi towards the offending door. “I can somethin’ to distract myself with,” he replies with an amused tone. “Unless you think it would be safer for me to stay here.”
“I agree,” Khimi assures him, but his voice carries a weary sigh. “No one should cause you any trouble. If I have my way, I will not be gone long.”
“‘Should’ be?” Lumi echoes quietly as Khimi turns away from him. Too many necessary discussions swirl around his head for him to answer the aslan now.
As Khimi pushes open the ornate doors, his eyes fall upon a young woman who waits nervously outside. I don’t recognize her after all. She wrings her hands anxiously before turning to him. Without hearing a word she says, Khimi follows her along the pathway leading back to the central building. His mind is consumed with thoughts of the evening ahead and how he can make it a memorable one for Lumi. Perhaps I can bring him into the city tomorrow, I am sure that he would love to see everything. The girl opens the massive doors and Khimi is greeted by half a dozen merchants in the parlor.
Putting on a facade of cheerfulness, he greets them with false enthusiasm and extends his arms in greeting. “Gentlemen!”
Khimi Zeybek, Merchant Prince
For days without end, the doors to the Grand Hall had remained open, such that Khimi could accommodate a never-ending meeting of merchants loyal to the Cerulean Star. The staff had arranged intricate cushions and trays of food on the brilliant floor tiles, but any prior orderliness had collapsed over the course of the proceedings. Sitting across from Khimi on a low settee is Kaan, a vulpo[1] merchant, who fans himself with a sheet of the materials from a past discussion. He is flanked by the others, all of whom operate under support from the Cerulean Star Mercantile Company. Khimi finds himself lost in the detailed fold that Kaan impressed into the parchment, until he collects himself and returns to his pertinent reading.
Nearly a week had passed since their return to Rhaz; thus, it had been nearly a week from when Khimi had last seen Lumi. He feels a longing, somehow markedly different from when they had lived a great physical distance apart from one another. It had seemed to Khimi that it grew only sharper with each passing day. No matter Khimi’s obvious desires—how much he wants things to be different, how much he wishes he had more time—he knows the current circumstances accurately reflect their position. The clawing sense of guilt notwithstanding, he hopes Lumi will understand that his life and duty will always belong to his family, to the Cerulean Star.
Khimi readjusts his posture, shifting between the floor and the cushion, to regain focus on the task at hand. The sandstone tile floor provides minor relief against the uncomfortable heat. Despite having drafted the meeting materials himself, the words and numbers make up smears on the page to his eye. With a look around the room, he can tell the midday heat has left many of the present Cerulean Star merchants damp and sluggish. Khimi makes margin notes onto the scroll in hand. He cannot fathom what matter keeps them in his house after so many days. The only reason Khimi had not yet dismissed the group outright.
From what he can gather: the merchants continue to discuss their troubles with rival merchants and bandits. Beneath the scroll in Khimi’s hand, past a sheaf of other documents, he catches glimpse of a rough-drawn map. He traces a finger in a circle that encompasses all the Desert Cities of Aldorria. The major metropolises and central trade routes are each marked with carefully-placed ink blots. The majority of them bring back their own hosts of memories and experiences for Khimi that he longs to relive. Nostalgia takes hold of him and the merchants are forgotten.
From locale to locale, Khimi lived as a mercenary after he had fled Sidi in his youth. He did what he could to avoid the true cities, and his diligence made sure he remained undetected and unseen by Rashid and his corps of Zeybek men. His fondest, most thrilling memories are of his life as a hired blade: hunting bandits, escorting caravans across the Dasht-e-Zuj, and the matches in Betset’s gladiatorial arena. After but a few short years in Rhaz, he hungers for those past adventures. He wonders if Lumi would be able to acclimate to the life of a traveler.
“Khimi?” Kaan whispers, his brow knit tight.
Khimi tilts his head up to the merchants. “Yes?” he replies softly.
“Were you listening?” asks Kaan, who fans himself with growing ire. “Have you heard anything we have said?” His face is flushed red with pique. Typically, the vulpo’s skin is smooth as cream and equally pale. Khimi imagines draped as he is, head to toe in a silken kaftan, lined with sable, that he must be under some type of self-imposed torture.
Khimi massages his eyelids and looks over the small group. For not the first time in these meetings, his father’s words echo at the back of his mind. Only a weak man apologizes, Khimi. It had been ages since he heard the words, and yet they still managed to be dredged from the recesses of his memories.
“I heard,” he says, rolling the scrolls in front of him. “I was just contemplating.”
“A decision has to be made soon, Khimi,” mutters Kaveh, a wiry man with a dark complexion, whose speech is underlined with chilly anger. “We cannot keep taking losses on our routes… Ziad has made promises to us.”
“Even if the bandits were hired by Omar, there is no proof!” Kaan growls and raps the paper fan into his palm. “Ziad would have had this ridiculous situation in hand! Long have we been loyal to the Cerulean Star, but there is only so much one can—”
“Enough,” snarls Rashid, leaning back against the doorframe. “Lord Zeybek will not suffer this insolence!”
“Rashid,” Khimi begins and raises his hand with a sigh. “Hold your comments. I can admit, the circumstances are problematic, but I do not see any simple solution. The raiders along our trade routes, there is no way to prove definitively that they were contracted by Lord Kappas. If we denounced Omar before Revya, then it might be perceived as the Cerulean Star conspiring to extend its reach. And that would not be the first time, might I add.”
An eager voice pipes up from the back of the crowd to say, “The Cerulean Star is the most powerful mercantile organization in the Desert Cities! Nay, across Aldorria—”
Khimi cuts him off before the rote response continues. “Be that as it may,” Khimi says, his hands firm over his knees. “The Cerulean Star maintains its reputation and its power, after so many centuries, because we continue to act within the confines of the law… We follow the letter of the law.”
“But not the spirit!” crows a bearded, potbellied merchant. “Is it not well-known that the Cerulean Star abuses their understanding of rules and laws to take precisely what they want?”
“Hessiah!” yells the eldest of the merchants, a man named Baran. “The Cerulean Star is famed for many things… but you must not forget yourself. You sit before the blood of Ziad Zeybek; show the appropriate respect.”
“As should you, sir,” Hessiah replies, pulling his keffiyeh[2] from his head.
Khimi’s fingers dig into his knees, his lips thin and he grits his teeth. “Please, Baran, there is no need to—”
“Khimi,” Rashid interjects with a nod.
Khimi sighs and resets his posture. “I understand that the Cerulean Star is the object of much rumor and hearsay.”
All of it true, like as not, he notes internally. He hopes the mental slip does not show in his features.
“It is in your best interest,” he continues, “that you never again speak truth to those rumors, Hessiah. I need not remind you of the pledge you swore to Ziad.”
“I pledged loyalty on the basis of mutual protection, for my men, for my wares. Do you have any idea the scope of the losses that we suffered the last attack, that we continue to hemorrhage each day?” Hessiah hacks roughly and leans forward over the tiles. “Should I call for my ledger, if my lord requires an itemized account?”
“What a farce,” Khimi groans with a wave of his hand.
The comment does not go unnoticed. The merchants murmur to one another, collectively arguing amongst themselves over his lack of sympathy for Hessiah’s losses.
Khimi has had enough; this day will never end, it appears. “Fine,” he says bitingly behind a forced grin. “If you please, Lord Hessiah, tell me. As we all are aware, your partnership with the Cerulean Star Mercantile Company ensures your unavoidable losses will be recouped at our expense. I know that this cannot return the lives lost in any engagement, but I hope you can accept my sympathies,” he says, as his voice trails with the shifting subject matter.
“Had Rhaz remained under Harod, this farce would have been over and done!” Hessiah bellows, eyes shaking with anger.
Khimi grits his teeth. His nails bite into his knees anew, leaving half-moon shaped marks through linen on his flesh. Harod. The man was a distant relative of the Zeybek family, one Khimi had met on scant few occasions at Zeruhan, the Zeybek estate in Sidi. With Khimi’s arrival in Rhaz, he had been charged by Aleyna to dismiss Harod from his duties.
The ordeal was over within a fortnight, after Khimi’s arrival in Rhaz with Rashid. They had informed Harod of his dismissal; though Harod had been furious with the news, he had not argued with Khimi nor with his men on the matter. Even now, Khimi works to rebuild the standing of the Zeybek name in Rhaz, after Harod’s tenure. Thus, Hessiah’s comment stung.
“Harod is gone. I am your lord and representative, and I will ensure that the full weight of the Cerulean Star rests behind all your future endeavors.,” Khimi proclaims.
From behind Hessiah, Kaveh nods his head respectfully and adjusts his agal. “Our family has always stood beside the Zeybek line… I pray we can continue our mutually-beneficial arrangements.”
Khimi nods and hangs his head, the weight of the golden collar around his neck growing heavier with every word. “Let it be said, you gentlemen must understand that the Cerulean Star, as an entity, thinks poorly of the actions Harod took during his tenure here.”
“At least he took action!” Hessiah grumbles and pushes himself to his feet.
Kaan stands abruptly after him and tosses his fan onto the floor. “Enough, Hessiah! Have you closed your ears entirely? You will be compensated, as will we! Do you think your ventures more significant than ours?”
Hessiah approaches Kaan, pushing the vulpo with great force. Khimi shoots up to intervene, but not before the full collection of merchants rises to assist. Angry shouting erupts in the room.
Rashid rushes to Khimi’s side, a hand at his sheathed shamshir. Khimi begs him off with a frown. He slows his pace, before leaning down to Khimi to speak. “Ya seem distracted today,” Rashid whispers, then discreetly places the back of his hand to his lord’s forehead. “Do ya feel unwell? Ought I have tea prepared—something soothing?”
Khimi pushes him away and redirects his attention to the feuding men. The conflict seems to him that it had ceased escalating, but that did not make it any less annoying. “My head is elsewhere,” he murmurs to Rashid. “Can you blame me?”
“Ya can’t let y’rself lose focus, Khimi… Ya know better than that. Men take it for weakness. I don’t mean to tell ya how to live and all, but someday y’ll be running the Cerulean Star entirely. Every merchant in Rhaz will answer to ya. Such is the duty of Lord Zeybek.”
“It is a small miracle he can keep them in line from as far-flung as the Golden Isles.”
Rashid chuckles and nudges Khimi’s shoulder. “Oh, I’m sure he has his methods. I watched the man work in person long enough to know that for certain. Omar Kappas, brazen as he is, fears Ziad, even across the seas.”
Khimi sighs, then whistles through his teeth. “Alright!” he begins with a clap of his hands. The merchants give him their attention, thankfully, and Khimi signals with his hands for them to sit. “Gentlemen. Hessiah, we will provide every recompense and resource for your soonest expedition. Rashid will entail additional mercenaries to guard your caravan.” A snort from the portly man.“Kaan, Kaveh. I mean this not as a slight to you or your enterprises, but only to reaffirm my support of every one of the Cerulean Star’s operatives. I ask for naught but your continued support, in turn.”
The angered Hessiah nods and lowers his head in a bow, seemingly pacified. “Thank you, Lord Zeybek. My concerns are assuaged. Please excuse my outburst.”
“Apologies,” Kaveh and Kaan both reply in kind.
“The heat must be getting to us!” Kaan suggests, prostrating himself before Khimi. “The heat, and Lord Kappas’s wickedness.”
Khimi palms his face, removing the perspiration dripping from his lip. “On the subject, I will insist that you are not to interact with Omar Kappas, under any circumstances, if it can be avoided. Remain vigilant. Lord Kappas, and any who associate with him, is no friend of ours,” he finishes with a nod at Rashid.
“Lords,” Rashid begins at Khimi’s side. “We have arranged a fine meal for you this evening, in the adjoining dining hall. Lord Zeybek will join you there shortly,” he says in a slow and respectful manner, his hand on his shamshir.
Khimi offers a small bow to the collective before he drifts out of the Grand Hall, Rashid behind him. As soon as Khimi reaches beyond the threshold to the veranda, he sighs and bites his knuckle, adding a curse under his breath for good measure.
“Bringing up Harod like that?” Rashid asks quietly. “We’ll need to keep eye on that Hessiah’s loyalties. He’s only a minor lord, Khimi! There’s no reason to let him speak to ya that way. Ziad would’ve never allowed it.”
Khimi curses again and throws his back against the column. “I am not my father. Ziad is not here, and I am.”
“Of course, yes,” Rashid says, then removes the keffiyeh from his head. “I did not mean to—”
“Fine,” Khimi grumbles. He adjusts his tunic but cannot find a comfortable arrangement. “I need a moment.”
“As if it wern’t obvious,” Rashid grins. “Where was y’r head? I saw y’r eyes go glassy and I knew ya didn’t hear a single word of the conversation, did ya?”
Khimi scratches the back of his head, looks down at his feet. “I was thinking about—about traveling. The excitement of it all, the newness. Can you recall that far back, old man?” he jabs.
“Aye, I recall. My blasted knee bears no consequence on my mind, lad. The world is beauteous and grand, especially when y’ve not got an old body like this to hold you back,” Rashid replies, squinting at him skeptically. “And ya wern’t thinking about the aslan boy?”
“My thoughts drift, as you said. I wondered what it might be like to travel afar with him. We have spent nary a moment together since we returned. As best I can tell, he is sleeping all day, but is away all night long. I do not know what to think.”
“It’s not a simple feat to adjust to a life like this, or to a city like Rhaz. Since ya question my memory, need I remind ya of your first months here?” He claps a hand on his lord’s taller shoulder. “The boy has things to figure out and ya can’t let y’r worrying distract ya from your responsibilities here. Keep patience and ya both will come together when the time is right.”
Khimi rolls his eyes. “Or I could run off into the desert and screw patience,” he laughs with a cheerful grin.
Rashid gives him a knowing look. “I can tell y’re joking, but I wouldn’t follow ya this time. Couldn’t catch ya again, besides. I about keeled over with the legwork you put me through to track ya. Nothing but the gods’ fortune, finding ya.”
“Alternatively, I ran out of luck.”
“What a way to talk about y’r blessed life in this damned palace! If you’ll run off, take the boy with ya, at least,” Rashid grumbles, gripping the shoulder tighter.
Khimi tilts his head thoughtfully from side to side, conveniently avoiding his advisor’s eyes. “Yes, well… perhaps my luck will turn soon and it will come Lord Kappas’ time for rotten luck. Otherwise, I fear my position over these merchants will dwindle into nothing, along with that of the Cerulean Star.”
Rashid rubs his shoulder and looks back to the Grand Hall’s entrance. “Then we ought buckle down and get to work, Lord Zeybek.”
Khimi follows Rashid’s gaze to the Grand Hall as an echo of the bickering merchants reaches them from their meal. “As you say.”
The two men make their fashionable entrance before the guests. With the aid of copious spirits and a full hookah, the hours pass quickly and discussions ease. By night’s end, each of the merchants is made amenable to the wishes of the Cerulean Star. Khimi cornered Hessiah until he finally conceded to receive a small donation, with a renewed pledge of loyalty to the Zeybek interests. Khimi knows it is a precarious perch, buying loyalties outright, but coin has its uses.
When the flock of them eventually disperse from the Grand Hall and out of the house, Khimi drops heavy onto a floor sofa amidst the men’s mess. Rashid had received their farewells graciously, and he stands now at the doorway again. With a proud crinkle in his gaze, he approaches Khimi gently as his shamshir clinks against its metal belt holster. Khimi pays him no mind, deciding to watch absently as unfamiliar servants sweep into the dining hall to clear the remains.
“Can you tell Pavan I need a shave,” Khimi mumbles.
Rashid stands above him and looks down with his arms crossed. “Ya did well. Would ya like to hear that I think Aleyna and Ziad would’ve congratulated ya? Even if ya just got them drunk, ya got what you needed from them.”
“They leave fat and happy,” Khimi says, turning his attention to his advisor. “More than I can say for me. Do you know where Lumi is?” he inquires, attempting a casual tone.
Rashid shakes his head. “I walk the lad to the Shrine in the city around this hour. Would my lord care to join?” he asks. “I had planned on speaking with him, though it can wait.”
Khimi grumbles. He lays a hand over his own chest, before he picks up an errant hookah hose and pulls a heavy drag from it. “Go on, then. I can see him tomorrow,” he coughs out. “Best not to keep the gods waiting, eh?” he asks with a spiteful tune.
“Ya brought home an acolyte, Khimi,” Rashid mutters, with an impatient few pats of his silk babouche against the tile floor. “I’ll tell him ya inquired towards him.”
Khimi turns on his side and blows out another cloud of smoke into the air. “Best not,” he whispers. “It wouldn’t do for him to decide to stay back.”
Rashid smacks his lips in thought. “As you say, my lord,” he manages, “but don’t overdo it, aye? Y’ve got much to do this week still. And ya received a letter from that Omar, besides.”
Bile rises in the back of Khimi’s throat. “It never ends.”
Rashid clears his throat with a sharp ahem. He lets a lengthy pause rest before he continues.“He would like to meet with ya, for gods-know-what reason. And our reports from inside? Apparently, his baker—more talented than y’rs, Lord Zeybek,” he taunts, “if that is something ya care about.”
“Fuck.”
[1] Vulpo(VUL-poh): Beastkin with the traits of foxes.
[2] Keffiyeh(keh-FEE-yeh): A traditional headpiece worn in the Desert Cities.