Bird of a Flock (Bow 2)

Chapter 51

"The crest is to show you are part of my close circle," Tai'ray explained, noticing Fetmar looking at the symbol intensely. "If your relationship with Yerir'o develops so that you are bonded, it will change to his crest. Herymi wears one with the symbol of his village on," he commented. Herymi had taken his collar without blinking an eye.

"You said Yerir'o wanted to talk about my brothers?" Fetmar asked, his voice hopeful, if not slightly nervous. He had made a promise. One he would keep, but he was uncertain as to what would come of it.

"Yes, he should be here soon," Tai'ray mused, glancing over at the door.

"Our brothers? What are they up to now?" Eyeri frowned, looking back at his older brother who shrugged helplessly. They had all been fine last time he had checked on them. It was Eyeri who had been in more danger than anyone else. Problem was, situations tended to change quicker than you could blink. Especially with the war on.

"I'm not sure. We'll have to wait for Yerir'o," Fetmar commented, smoothing out his tunic nervously. He hadn't looked too closely at it when he had pulled it on but he suddenly felt slightly awkward in his outfit. It was covered in designs and finery, all of which Fetmar was unused to. He had dress uniforms, sure, but they were plain colours, nothing as elaborate as the patterns on this. "I have to say Winglord, as much as I appreciate the clean clothes, please tell me I can choose my outfits once this day is over," he asked, shifting unhappily "This is..."

"Very good on you," Tai'ray said approvingly. The colours suited the boys even if they were not used to such things. "Eyeri's are similar," he added, nodding at the youngling. It was true, but Eyeri somehow looked in place to Fetmar. His outfit obviously having been tailored for him. It was light enough material for the climate but covered much of his body. It also had a medical crest, with a novice cross on it.

"Winglord, I have never worn anything with so much pattern before," Fetmar commented in a pleading tone. "Can't I have something plainer?"

"Beggars can't be choosers. Much of the current fashion is like that," Tai'ray shrugged. "I'm sure in the next few days we can arrange for the tailors to fashion you something with a little less design," he reassured.

"Thank you," Fetmar said breathing a sigh of relief. It seemed a silly thing to worry about and yet it did actually make some of the tenseness in his shoulders unwind. He was meant to be a fighter, not a courtier. He reached over and tugged Eyeri closer. Eyeri let him, leaning his head on his shoulder.

Tai'ray smiled at them and was about to comment to tease them when there was a knock at the door. Yerir'o strode in, full armour and gleaming in the sunlight, looking very much like he had just come of parade or possibly from one of the medal ceremonies. "Winglord Tai'ray!" the General greeted warmly, bowing low with his wings bending in such a way to show respect. "Forgive my lateness."

"Not at all, General Yerir'o," Tai'ray replied, "No need to be formal, despite your attire," he joked, looking Yerir'o own outfit up and down with a lifted eyebrow. He looked very formal but also very handsome.

"Yes, well. I needed a new suit and the tailors insisted I show it about. They may send you tributes for coming home. They are having fun and making a lot of money from making new suits for tonight and future occasions," Yerir'o grinned, his eyes locking onto Fetmar as he spoke. A look that could only really be described as hungry filled them. Fetmar blushed and Eyeri grinned widely at the sight, elbowing his older brother in the ribs. "Looks like I'm not the only one with a new look. You look stunning, Fetmar. The colour suits you."

"Thank you," Fetmar said uncertainly almost shyly, not used to people commenting on his clothes. Eyeri and Tai'ray shared a look of amusement. The youngest commander was known for being loud and stubborn. This... This was an interesting thing to see.