Bird of a Nest (bow 3)

Chapter 6

"The deal offered is simple. Don't fight, don't try to escape and come home," Tai'ray spoke the words carefully and with purpose. The final two words echoing through the room and into the heart of every k'nairi. Navat was home. This was home. And the summons to come home was more about the war. It was about coming back to where they belonged and were safe.  Ryraso found himself rubbing the scar on his arm again. 

"The brand is set, everything else was not. But two here fought. Ryraso, a healer and my chosen. Herymi, a borderlander, the adoptive son of a Guardian and a hunter. The price of trying to escape is thirty lashes with the whip. But they were not trying to escape. Were you?" The Winglord looked at Ryraso in the eyes before looking at Herymi the same way. The links magic putting them both on the spot, their hearts lay bear for the link to see if they tried to lie their way of this. 

"No," They breathed in unison, the truth, in this case, easy to say. "We fought to protect Eyeri," they admitted, fierce protectiveness rising from Ryraso's chest. Herymi had his own protectiveness but it wasn't the same. Eyeri was Ryraso's son. It was personal to him.

Eyeri huddled closer to Yerir'o, Yerir'o holding him closer and whispering a word of comfort to the teenager. Eyeri's hands reached up to grab at Yerir'o's arm and held on tight. The room was filled with k'nairi words he didn't know and it was alarming to the boy with the sheer about of power flowing in the room. Nel'os looked over at concerned but didn't move from his place with Ang'as on his arm.

"To protect. Not to escape. For this, some leeway is allowed," the Winglord nodded, his voice echoing as he spoke with the authority of the link. "Ten lashes are the punishment," he acknowledged, the room breaking into hushed whispers. "Silence," the Winglord called, narrowing his eyes and glaring at some of the more prolific gossipers.  They shut up quickly as the weight of the link fell on them. The room quiet and the Winglord nodded. He reached down and placed a hand on Fetmar's hair, making the human look up confused.

"There is also another who is to be branded," the Winglord announced in human so the young man would understand. "One who is not caw but his actions went against the k'nairi. His luck is that he is k'nairi by association. Both as adoptive son and as a chosen. Ten lashes will be his as well. To protect is not a crime we wish to punish for, but sometimes we do not have the right to decide these matters. Does anyone fight this fact?" He demanded.

"No," the answer returned easily. No one doubted his rule after the showdown the night before. No one. 

"Then let us begin. Herymi, you paid your part last night. For your bravery, you do not need to face the brand, but you will still suffer the whipping after," the Winglord declared. Herymi bowing respectfully at the announcement. Dyn'ad hooked his arm through Herymi's as the man straightened up again. "Forgive our distrust, but for now remain close. We would hate for you to run off on us," The Winglord said with a gentle smile.

"I understand, Winglord," Herymi said bravely, bowing before letting himself be pushed down to his knees. He understood completely, of course. Tai'ray stroked Herymi's hair as he walked down of the stand and Herymi leant into the touch. The image of a loyal subject to his King. The Winglord smiled before looking at the end of the room.

The brand iron, now burning red,  in the fire.