Bird of a Flock (Bow 2) - Chapter 51: 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.
"I'm sure the tailors are very pleased," Tai'ray agreed, "But we are not here to talk about the tailors but about the Zamen brothers?"
"Yes we are. You lot do know how to cause trouble don't you?" Yerir'o sighed, looking at the brothers before reaching down to ruffle the younger man's hair. Fetmar slapped the man's hands away with a mild glare but was used to the action. Yerir'o laughed and leant down to kiss Fetmar on the forehead, sparking the human commander's cheeks to flush again.
"Grab a cushion and take a seat, Yerir'o," Tai'ray nodded to in front of him.
"Are they in trouble again?" Fetmar asked, looking over at Yerir'o as he awkwardly sat down. The armour not quite meant for people to sit down on the floor, even if k'nairi typically did sit on the ground. He sat near to the brothers but not directly next to them, a respectful distance away from the boys.
"It's not so much they are in trouble and more I don't know where they are," Yerir'o said sounding miffed. "Oira is most likely in that secret base in the south like most of the scientists but Kanan is completely off my radar. Heck Makio has just disappeared on a mission too," he grimaced. "Makio doesn't usually vanish like this and Kanan..."
"Kanan's of your radar?" Fetmar frowned. Kanan was a foot soldier. Or cannon fodder if people were using the more blunt term. Unlike the rest of them, Kanan didn't have any real skills that made him stand out which meant the fact he had disappeared was concerning. "His crew weren't doing anything particularly secretive or dangerous. He said he was going to the plains? I don't know where though," he admitted.
"The northern plains are asking for more k'nairi assistance to help keep the Dmar troops in line. The Namya are starting to struggle there," Tai'ray commented, reading over the request. "I think I am going to have to station more people there. Maybe I should start a settlement?" he mused, "Plenty of caw in the plains who would like to stay there," he sighed.
"I'll send some more men to the north to look for Kanan. His squad's hardly the most infamous but it's well-known and something feels off about this," Yerir'o commented, rubbing the back of his neck. "Any ideas about Makio?"
"Your guess is as good as mine. They like to send him off all over. He has a rival who's k'nairi, doesn't he? Makio mentioned someone on the ship..." Fetmar asked. "He doesn't usually talk about his work but he let something slip. Can't they help you find him?"
"He has disappeared too," admitted Yerir'o, "We think he went after Makio because he's got a seal on and wasn't given any real orders."
"He put a seal on?" Tai'ray tilted his head, "Two-thirds of the caw are still sealed," he revealed idly. "I don't need people using them for work. Who is the rival?" He asked looking at Yerir'o with a dark look.
"In'airn. He's mated to General Bao'int," Yerir'o explained with a grim expression on his face.
Tai'ray grimaced. General Bao'int was a noble and part of the old order who would rather humans didn't exist. Unless his mate was in actual danger, he wouldn't help to find him for the sake of a human. Not even if Tai'ray ordered him to do it personally. Even he had just shut down one of the old order, Tai'ray was in no position to bargain with such people.
"So he won't help to find his mate?" Fetmar asked, innocent of how noble k'nairi were.
"Not a chance," Tai'ray sighed.
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Navat was stunning. It was a beautiful paradise for the bird people and Fetmar could understand why the k'nairi were so proud of it. The palace was the most impressive thing Fetmar had seen in his entire life. It didn't change the fact however, that Fetmar currently had a knife sticking out of his leg and was staring down a k'nairi who wasn't even considered an adult by his own species yet.
"And just who are you?" Fetmar asked calmly, ignoring the blood starting to flow down his leg. He could feel Aw'endo clutching onto his arm, still behind him where Fetmar had yanked him.
"Fetmar," Aw'endo whispered, his voice shocked."You're hurt!"
"Yes, Aw'endo. That much is obvious," Fetmar said dryly, not looking down at the injury or behind him at his younger adoptive brother. He kept his eyes locked on the person who had attempted to stab Aw'endo. Yellow eyes met his and even without any magic link, Fetmar could see the panic in his eyes. This was not the way the youngling was planning this encounter to go and now he didn't know what to do. "I suggest, you, drop that knife before you get yourself hurt," he warned, his voice low.
"You're just human. You can't hurt me," the boy sneered, his words slightly disjointed and likely not as executed as the boy would have liked.  Instead of sounding tough, he just sounded like the child he clearly was. Young, inexperienced and spoilt as hell.
Fetmar grinned darkly. The boy flinched and his mates started clicking in their native language. The boy's wings shifted, tensing up ready to stand his ground. Shame Fetmar was used to dealing with far older and experienced bullies than the creature in front of him. As the noble stepped forwards brandishing the knife again, Fetmar stepped forward, disarming the k'nairi youngling in one simple move.
The boy actually looked at his hand surprised as the blade left it. Fetmar flipped the knife in his hand and threw it at a nearby column with a hard thunk as it slid into the wood deep.  "Younglings shouldn't play with dangerous things," he commented seriously, his eyes narrowing.
"Pretty much that the kettle calling the pot black," Yerir'o commented from somewhere on the side. "I thought I asked you not to get into trouble. I promised the Winglord you'd be safe with me," he said exasperatedly.
"Fet!" Eyeri called concerned at the sight of his brother's blood, flowing quite profusely from his leg.
Fetmar was still refusing to look down at it. The second he realised how bad he was hurt, was the moment he turned from a badass older brother to a weak human. That was not how he was going to play this. No way in hell was he going to let this bully see him as anything but something to be feared. Neither Aw'endo nor Eyeri were going to be bullied by any nobles as long as he was there.
"I'm not a youngling," Fetmar pointed out, enjoying the look of shock on the bully's face. Fetmar was willing to bet he wasn't expecting a famous General from the army to appear. From the training gear they were wearing, he and his buddies were hoping to be fighters some day. Yerir'o was not going to be someone they would want to look bad in front of. "Even when I was, I only used weapons I was trained in," he added teasingly, eyes still locked on the bully's.
"They should have been," Yerir'o mused with an edge of disdain in his voice. "I shall have a word with whoever is training them. Why did you need to disarm them?" he asked lightly.
It was hard not to laugh at the reaction from the lead bully. He looked away from Fetmar and paled visibly at every word. Fetmar glanced over his shoulder at Aw'endo who was surprisingly looking very small at that moment. Fetmar didn't like that. "I protect my brothers, you know this," he said idly.
"I see," Yerir'o said, his tone neutral but one Fetmar knew. Yerir'o had understood the implication perfectly.
These boys may have gotten away with bullying Aw'endo for so long, but that was about to change.