Student of Kyme

by Storm Constantine

  ‘See you later,’ Malakess said. And that was that. No mention of the previous evening, not a flicker of interest.

  Despite what had been said, or not said, at lunch, Sabarah turned up at Huriel’s house late this afternoon. Everyhar was busy with preparations for dinner, so I took the Gelaming out into the garden. Here, I sat beneath an apple tree while he made dozens of quick sketches. There were no lascivious undercurrents in Sabarah’s behaviour. He really did just want to paint me. He frowned as he worked, his arm moving quickly as he made bold sweeping strokes with his charcoal. I asked him an inane question at one point and he simply uttered: ‘sssh!’ He liked to work in silence, it appeared. Eventually, he paused to smoke a cigarette and let me look at his drawings.

  I was quite shocked by what I saw. I looked winsome, and very young. He had captured pain within my eyes, pain that I thought I hid well. It was discomforting that Sabarah had seen so much in me. ‘They are wonderful pictures,’ I said. ‘I’m not sure if I look like that, though. Can I keep one of them?’

  ‘If you like,’ Sabarah said. He grinned. ‘Just one of those sketches would sell for quite a lot in Immanion.’

  ‘Thanks! I’ll get it framed, if I can, and hang it in my room.’

  ‘I’d like to do a series of pictures,’ Sabarah said. ‘I can see you in a number of settings and moods. It would make a good show for the spring.’

  ‘I’m really not sure I could come to Immanion, though,’ I said. ‘And you couldn’t keep coming here, surely?’

  Sabarah tapped ash from the end of his cigarette. ‘You don’t know about sedim, do you?’

  I shook my head. ‘No, what is it?’

  “Not it, they,’ Sabarah replied. ‘They are a form of transport that can cross into the ethers and carry you long distances in a short space of time. That is how we travel. It is also through them that we are able to excel at trade and other things.’

  ‘That’s amazing,’ I said. ‘I’d like to try it.’

  Sabarah shrugged. ‘Well, perhaps we can arrange it. It’s clear your guardians are very protective of you, and so they should be. You’d perhaps need a chaperone.’

  It’s astounding how your first impressions of a har can change so much. Sabarah was not half as pompous or presumptuous as I’d thought. He seemed quite down to earth now, in fact. Sabarah mistook my silence for something other than reflective thought. He smiled rather sadly. ‘I know we Gelaming are not regarded in the best of lights abroad, and sometimes hara like Chrysm do little to dispel the bad reputation. Some question whether it is right to let him represent our tribe. Chrysm is fairly young by Hegemony standards, second generation like you.’

  That was another revelation. ‘It seemed to me at lunch you all adore him,’ I said, wondering at once whether that was a wise thing to say.

  Sabarah didn’t take offence, however. He smiled. ‘Well, let’s just say it’s in our interests to keep him sweet. He’s responsible for all the major shows in Immanion and his patronage can make the difference between poverty and affluence. He’s not a bad har, but does tend to put his foot in it. He’s not that adept at reading other hara, I’m afraid. But then again…’ Sabarah smiled grimly. ‘Perhaps he is all too adept.’

  ‘Hmm, I wonder whether he should be let loose on the Nagini, then.’

  Sabarah nodded. ‘I’ve wondered the same. Still, it won’t affect me, one way or the other.’ He stubbed out his cigarette. ‘Shall we continue?’

  By the end of the sitting, I felt that I’d begun to make a new friend. Sabarah told me he’d like to make more sketches, in different settings, and would begin work on the paintings once he returned to Immanion. I agreed to meet him at his hotel the following day. We could go to any number of locations around the town and the surrounding countryside.

  Now, Sabarah has left and I’ve only got half an hour or so to get ready. Time for another new set of clothes. I could get used to this.

  Lunilsday, Ardourmoon 23

  I had wondered whether Haruah would bring his son with him, but perhaps he didn’t want to force his prophecy. He came with two friends instead, both of whom knew enough Albish to be able to converse fairly easily with us. It might be that younger Nagini were sequestered away from adult company, with all its risks and perils. I knew nothing of their tribal customs. We gathered in Huriel’s sitting room for aperitifs and here Haruah drew me aside to give me a gift. ‘I’m pleased to see you here,’ he said. ‘This is for you.’

  It was an article wrapped in red silk and tied with a gold ribbon. I unwrapped it carefully and found within a wooden carving of a strange creature that appeared to be a beautiful har who was half serpent. From the waist down he sat upon thick, reptilian coils. ‘Who is it?’ I asked.

  ‘That is Nagarana,’ Haruah said. ‘He is the dehar of Nagini. Keep him by you and he will listen to your prayers. Nagarana knows no tribal boundaries. One day, he will sit beside Aruhani and his brothers in the greatest fanes in the world.’

  ‘Thank you,’ I said. ‘It’s a wonderful gift.’

  Haruah smiled widely. ‘Nagarana is similar to Aruhani in many ways, being a dehar of aruna, birth and death, among other attributes. Talk to him, my friend.’

  I looked into Haruah’s eyes. Like Sabarah, clearly he saw all too much of me. I wasn’t very clever at hiding my inner self, it seemed. Still, self centred contemplations must be put aside for tonight. It hadn’t escaped me that Haruah saw Nagarana as a deity for all hara. That didn’t speak of reclusiveness to me, and I certainly didn’t pick up the slightest impression that the Nagini hid a desire for world domination in a military sense. Perhaps I was too young and naïve to talk of political things, but I felt comfortable with Haruah, so spoke my mind. ‘The Gelaming are impatient to talk to you. I expect you know that.’

  ‘Oh yes.’

  ‘Perhaps you should ask Chrysm to build a temple to Nagarana in Immanion. He is desperate to please you.’

  Haruah laughed. ‘The temples to Nagarana will be built by ordinary hara, not Hegemons, but your suggestion is amusing.’

  There was a comfortable silence for some moments as I examined the little carving, then Haruah reached out and stroked my face. ‘Ah, poor Gesaril. You were denied last night, were you not?’

  I couldn’t help but blush. ‘Hmm. I lack the sophisticated wiles of older hara, I think. I give up, to be honest. I will become a hermit.’

  ‘I should take you home with me, then. The lands to the north of our territory are the domain of monks, who live in high, dangerous, inaccessible places. They are hara created from an ancient strain of humanity.’

  ‘What is the name of your country?’ I asked.

  ‘Veranaka,’ he replied. ‘Well, some hara call it by different names. It is a vast land, with a great many tribes.’

  I sighed. ‘I feel so… uninformed. My whole world consisted of the tiny territory of Lyonis for so long, and yet really the world is vast. I only know of the tribes of Almagabra and Megalithica.’

  ‘That’s only natural,’ Haruah said. ‘During the Changing Times, communication broke down completely between different countries. We all underwent our own traumatic changes. Perhaps now is the time for communication to be rekindled, as long as all concerned respect other cultures.’

  ‘You fear the Gelaming are like humans, don’t you?’ I said. ‘They want everyhar to be Gelaming.’

  ‘That, unfortunately, is the impression they give,’ Haruah agreed. ‘But Almagabra is small in comparison to the eastern lands. We’ve kept ourselves to ourselves for many years. Some of us are now interested in looking outwards. We are all privileged to be what we are, united by the common destiny that we were bequeathed by the world. The Nagini believe it is not beyond Wraeththu to embrace each other as brothers, wherever they might live or whatever they might believe.’

  ‘Do all hara in your country feel that way?’ I asked.

  Haruah pulled a rueful face. ‘No, not all.’ He smiled. ‘Now is not the time for such talk. W
e are here to make friends and to enjoy ourselves. Perhaps we should rejoin the company.’

  As we turned back to everyhar else, I noticed that Malakess was watching me speculatively.

  Ystayne and Rayzie had excelled themselves in the kitchen, aided by one of Haruah’s staff, a har who could not speak Albish but who nevertheless had communicated well enough in mind touch to work easily with Huriel’s staff. The Nagini were curious about our cuisine and wanted to try everything. There was a myriad of things for them to taste, each dish laced fragrantly with local herbs, the meats slathered with berry sauces. The topics of conversation covered over dinner were so vast and so interesting it was like discovering a magical fountain of knowledge. The Nagini had travelled over sea and land to reach us; they did not have transport like the Gelaming. They told us tales of every country they’d visited. So many tribes. So many different kinds of Wraeththu. It unsettled me to realise how little I know of my own kind. Still, I can honestly say I enjoyed the evening far more than the party at the Academy. I was acutely conscious of Malakess’s presence, but it felt good rather than uncomfortable. I felt I was shining. Haruah brought out the best in me. He flattered me subtly, winding his magic into my being. But it was not for his benefit.

  The Nagini left before midnight, after which Huriel, Malakess and I went back to the sitting room to sit before the fire and drink some pear liqueur that Rayzie had made last year. I felt mellow and drowsy; our little party had been a great success, not least because Malakess had persuaded Haruah to dine with Chrysm the following evening. Huriel and Malakess discussed the evening’s events, while I stared into the fire, my mind comfortably numb. I must have fallen asleep, because I was brought to full consciousness by Malakess shaking my shoulder. The fire had died down and I held an empty glass in my hand, sticky with liqueur. ‘Wake up,’ Malakess said. ‘Huriel’s gone to bed. So should you… soon.’

  I yawned and sat up straight. ‘Why are you still here?’

  Malakess hesitated, then said, ‘I wanted to talk to you.’

  ‘About last night, I suppose.’ I sighed. ‘I apologise.’

  ‘You don’t have to,’ Malakess said. ‘What is it you want from me, Gesaril? Honestly?’

  ‘Nothing…’ I shook my head. ‘Well, perhaps it’s obvious. And you think I look on you and see Ysobi. I told you that, once. It’s not very flattering, I know, but it’s not the case now.’

  ‘I don’t want to make your problems any worse.’

  ‘Oh, I’m sick of my problems!’

  Again, Malakess paused. ‘What are they exactly, anyway? Will you tell me?’

  ‘Well, apart from a swarm of emotional disaster areas, I have a physical problem with soume.’

  ‘Physical problem… what do you mean?’

  ‘I think it’s physical. I’m not sure. Anyway, it hurts me and sometimes causes damage.’

  ‘You should see a physician.’

  ‘I think it’s too late for that.’

  ‘But you’re har. Your body should have repaired itself fully.’

  ‘Then maybe it’s not a real problem after all. I don’t know. I had pelki committed on me when I was very young. It’s hardly surprising that caused fallout, is it?’

  Malakess shook his head. ‘No…’

  ‘And yet despite this problem, I’ve spent most of my post feybraiha life being what somehar in Jesith called a soume shrew. A predator. And I have been. I don’t deny it. It was the only way I could feel, I think, having hara want me, especially those who were already chesna with somehar else. Then, when I’d got them hooked, it always went wrong, for obvious reasons.’ I looked into Malakess’s eyes. ‘I’ve changed a lot. I understand myself more, but even so, that understanding doesn’t make the problem go away.’

  ‘How do you know that?’

  ‘Well…’ Actually, I didn’t.

  ‘I will try with you, Gesaril, if that’s what you still want.’

  I stared at him like an idiot for some moments. ‘What?’

  ‘We must have an understanding,’ he said. ‘I don’t want you being hurt, in an emotional sense.’

  This was too much to take in, and totally unexpected. I didn’t know how to react. Was Haruah’s magic so strong? ‘I don’t know what to say.’ Despite that, I reached out and took one of his hands, held on to it as if I was drowning and he was the lifeline to land. Twice I’d felt this way with him. He let me crush his fingers for a short time, which must have hurt, then drew me to him. We shared breath for several minutes, azure skies yawning in my head. It was like flying. I remembered the first time I’d shared breath with Ysobi, how I’d felt I was in a scarlet and black temple, and I was the altar there. By that time, we’d taken aruna together many times.

  Malakess drew away from me, kissed my brow. ‘Let’s go upstairs.’

  I felt so nervous and tense I could barely walk. This was what I wanted, wasn’t it? Or did I just want the chase again, the longing in a har’s eyes?

  I took Malakess to my room. It occurred to me that Huriel had spoken to him about me, and that was why he’d sloped off to bed to leave us alone. Maybe now, he lay awake, listening for sounds. Malakess and I undressed in silence, and all the while I kept getting flashbacks to Jesith. It wasn’t pleasant. I remembered the phylarch’s house, Ysobi coming to me there in the night, when were supposed not to see each other. I could smell the fragrance of his hair.

  I sat down on the bed and put my face in my hands. I was not simply haunted, I must be possessed. Malakess came to me, squatted before me and put a hand on my shoulder. ‘Gesaril?’

  ‘I want to forget, but I can’t,’ I said.

  ‘Maybe you’re not ready yet,’ he said softly.

  I rubbed my temples. ‘Maybe not.’

  ‘Get into bed. It’s okay. Just rest.’

  I hadn’t even looked at him yet. Still averting my eyes, I pulled the blankets over me and he climbed in beside me. I lay with my back to him and he curled his arms round me, pulled me close. ‘Just sleep,’ he said.

  The song of birds in the creepers outside my window woke me up. It must have been very early in the morning. Malakess slept beside me, lying on his back, his hair spread all over the pillows. I propped myself up on an elbow to study him. It was easy this way, while he slept. He wore an amulet around his neck. I lifted it and the stone was warm from the heat of his body. I ran my hand over his smooth skin and he made a small sound, arched his back a little, but he didn’t wake up. I pulled back the covers and gazed upon him. Who was this har, really? Who had he loved, who had he lost? What went on in his inner life? I hardly knew him. Asleep, he looked vulnerable and young, far from the contained High Codexia I’d first met. At heart, he was har. He had lived through the early days of Wraeththu with all their horrors and triumphs. He had probably killed humans and even other hara. I wondered about his inception, his history. Suddenly, all the experience contained within him made him more beautiful to my eyes. This frame, this perfect form, all that we are. The High Codexia, in essence, did not exist. It was a construct, a mask. What did exist was Malakess, his mind and body, his spirit. In dreams, he too ran over the hills like a deer, and politics and intrigue could not possibly exist. In dreams, he was free. And I could share that.

  My hand hovered over his belly. What could possibly be so terrifying about another harish body? His ouana-lim, crude though it seems to say it, was not as large as Ysobi’s and seemed less threatening, less like a weapon. But I still shrank from touching it. I didn’t want it to wake up. Perhaps I should cover him up again before he got cold and woke up himself. But something stopped me. Maybe there were some hurdles I couldn’t leap at the moment, but I could at least take aruna again, on my terms, and with this secret creature, unmasked in sleep.

  I leaned over to share breathe with him and sensed his mind rise from slumber. He put his arms around me and returned the sharing. I reached down to caress his soume-lam and he parted his legs for me. My mind must remain focused in the present moment. I w
as here, now, not in the past. But still, those hated images came back to me: Ysobi writhing beneath my touch, my awe at his beauty, the desire to enter him and the final consummation of that desire. I was just on the brink of pulling away from Malakess completely, a cruel and inconsiderate thing to do, seeing as I’d now thoroughly aroused him, but before I could do so, he took hold of my hand and pulled it away himself. He’d seen into my mind. I thought he might be angry or at least disappointed, but he merely rolled me onto my back and continued to share breath with me. The flavour of it had changed. I pulled away. ‘No…’

  ‘Hush,’ he said. ‘Trust me, Gesaril. I’ll not have your ghosts on my back as well as yours. Relax and trust me. I’ll not hurt you, I swear it.’

  I let myself go limp. I’d believe him and hope that was magic enough to make it real. Nagarana, I prayed, I don’t know you yet, but be with me now…

  So many times I thought, Now is the moment, now he’ll touch me, open me up, but each time I was wrong. He concentrated on my skin, stroking gently, and on filling me with his soothing breath. I could feel his ouana-lim hot against me, eager to go about its business, but still he held back. I reached out to take him in my hand, but he took hold of my fingers. He guided us together to my own body, and together we touched gently that shrinking heart of me that feared pain. He did not invade me, but held my hand, directed it. I went into myself, at first passive, and then gradually, as desire was kindled, I caressed the areas inside me that were the most sensitive to touch. Malakess held on to my wrist, his mouth still against my own. The tides of aruna were rising. I was slippery and hungry. Malakess took hold of my arms and lifted them above my head, his fingers laced with mine. Before I realised it, he’d slid inside me, and it didn’t hurt. It didn’t hurt at all.

  The one thing I’d forgotten about, or possibly had never fully experienced before, was the spiritual nourishment that aruna bestows. When Malakess and I finally went down to breakfast, I couldn’t feel the ground beneath my feet. My body felt made of light and my mind was utterly at peace, so much so, it brought home to me how wound up and anxious I’d been before. After we’d taken aruna, I’d wept for some time, in relief and wonder and sheer release. I felt as if I’d been freed from a curse.