They sat together in the warm autumn sun, Kei absorbing and soothing Karik’s turbulent emotions, wishing he had the power to make the lives of the people he loved better and happier and safer, but knowing that all he could do was be there when they needed him. That had been all he’d ever been able to do for Karik, though he would have loved to have done more for him. Been more for him.
“It’s interesting, don’t you think?” he murmured, when Karik seemed a little calmer. “How things you think will be wholly bad, can be the cause of so much good? And things that are painful, can actually be worth all that pain?”
Karik sat up and wiped his eyes. “Uh...like what?”
“Well, like Mayl’s infidelity resulting in three wonderful people. Or what happened to you in Andon, leading to Romi and the drug discoveries. Even my giving you over to Jena and Reji. If Jena hadn’t had you, hadn’t already decided she wanted you, she might have stayed in Ai-Rutej. Reji might not have even come back to Ai-Albon, or have stayed in the north and then you would never have known him. Which would have been a terrible shame, don’t you think?”
“I do. But then you’d have been my Pa.”
Kei smiled. “Yes. But this way, I’ve been able to share you with two other people, and still get to know you. Three people—four, if you count Arman—have been blessed by you.” He chuckled as Karik flushed. “No modesty now, nephew. You know it’s far too late.”
“I wish there had been a way for you and Pa to both be my father.”
“But that’s what an uncle is for, Ka-chi. If anything had happened to your Ma and Pa, I was going to step in. It was all agreed with Fedor years ago.”
“Really? But Arman....”
“Well, Arman would have managed. Don’t be hard on him. That time in Utuk, with Karus dying and the war—it took a long time for everyone to heal from that. Of course, I’m very glad I wasn’t needed to step in, because nothing would be worth losing Reji and Jena over—not even you,” he said, squeezing Karik’s hand.
“No one feels that way about Mayl,” Karik said, looking away, staring up at a bird which had landed in a neighbour’s tree. “I should be glad she’s gone and not interfering any more.”
“No one ‘should’ be glad about anyone’s death. If nothing else, she’s a bit of your history you probably wished you could understand better.”
“Or fix.” Kei cocked his head, puzzled. “I...can’t help but feel I missed a chance to do better with her. By her. To help her in some way. Damn it—I put more effort into helping Jos than I ever did with my own mother!”
Karik was shaking again, high colour in his cheeks and a slightly wild look in his eye as if he was on the verge of breaking down again. Kei put his arm around his nephew’s shoulder and squeezed a little. “Karik, Mayl wasn’t yours to fix. Jos was just a boy—a misguided and rather stupid boy, but not essentially a bad person. He’s turned out pretty well, I think, because we stepped in before he became irretrievably vicious. Mayl...was already an adult when I first met her. Yes, now you might say in Prijian society, women aren’t given a chance to develop the way you might want them to, but plenty of women of her class manage to become decent human beings. If Arman couldn’t show her how to live properly, if the birth of her children couldn’t persuade her to be less selfish, and if she was prepared to actively incite others to murder and to riot—what could you have done?”
Karik’s green eyes were filled with misery. “I just thought I owed it to her. Arman never gave her a chance to be a mother to me.”
“And when she had the chance—twice—what did she do? Do you think that was just the trauma of losing you?” Karik shook his head. “No, I don’t think so either. I know it’s hard, and I understand a little why you’re upset—but you have to accept there was nothing you could do for Mayl. Even the state of Darshian wouldn’t have been able to save her from her own actions. You were the one in need of help from her, just as Minan and Ry-chi were—but she refused to give it. It wasn’t that she tried to be a mother and failed—she never tried at all. I’d have had more sympathy for her if she’d been merely feckless. But she made no attempt. She never would have.”
“D-do you think...blood will out?”
“Hasn’t yet,” Kei said gently. “Her blood runs in Jes’s veins as well as you three boys. Is there any sign that any of you are like her?”
“I hope not. I really wish Arman had been my real father, Kei. I mean...I’ve known for a while that he can’t have been, but there was this little...pretense I had sometimes....” He smiled, but tears were falling again. “That one day, he would announce that yes, I really was his boy, that I was his blood kin. Stupid, because I wouldn’t give Pa up for the world.”
Kei hugged him closer and kissed his temple. “Kin is who you choose, nephew mine. Arman could not be more fond of you if you were his son by blood, and sees no difference between you or Tije, except that he’s possibly closer to you than him. I don’t distinguish between you and Keiji and Meran. You’re all my family. And now I have two more nephews.”
“Or sons?” Karik said. “Won’t you even give it a try?”
“Ka-chi, is it fair? If I tried and failed, the boys would be disrupted and I would do anything to spare them pain. I can’t ask Arman to stop doing his job, and you know mine is important. What about Pira?”
Karik took his hands and stared at him. “Do you want it?”
He demanded honesty, and Kei gave it to him. “Yes, I do. Very much. Just as I wanted you, very much. But...practicalities, nephew.”
“I know—but I really want this too. Not just because it gets me off the hook—because you’re the best person for this. You know their past, you know what’s influenced them, and you already love them.”
“Other people could do that too,” he murmured.
“Not as well as you. So what if you’re not likely to see their grandchildren grow to be adults? That doesn’t matter. They need wisdom and kindness—they need you, and they need Arman. Outside my Pa, you’re the finest men I know. I don’t want my brothers to have second best.”
Kei smiled, shaking his head. “You do know how to flatter a person. I’ll try to find a way to do this—but no guarantees. Right now, I just want to be with this nephew and make sure he’s all right.”
“I’ll be fine. I just...need time.”
“Then take it, Ka-chi. Now...isn’t this nice? We don’t do this very often, do we. When you and Romi get a house, you need a garden.”
As he chatted, he felt Karik’s spirit easing a little. His nephew would be all right. Karik was tough as tanned urs hide, and had bounced back from things that would have crushed a lesser man. If fate would just grant them a little breathing space, he’d be fine.
It was a chance to talk to Karik quietly about the new team too, and the work they’d done over the summer. Mayl’s arrival had eaten into their time together, and what little time Karik had had spare, he’d had to give to Jes as was only right. Karik had a point about that—he already had a responsibility there. It wasn’t fair to deprive Jes, because her father was a very important and beloved part of her life.
“Kei-chi? Ka-chi?”
Ry-zilim and Minan, holding hands and looking uncertain, Emia behind them ready to help. Kei stood up, then knelt down with his arms out. The boys ran towards him and made him oof as they hit. “My, such big boys you are. Did you have a good sleep, Ry-chi?” He stroked the child’s hair back from his face.
“Kei-chi, where’s Mama?”
“Ry-chi, darling, she’s gone away now. Your mama can’t come home any more.”
“Ry-zilim, I told you. You have to ‘member,” Minan said. He looked exhausted, as if the hour-long nap had done no good at all.
Kei put his arms out to him. “Minichi, would you like to sit on my lap for a bit? Emia, dear, would you like to get everyone some tea and those biscuits Pira made?”
The one thing that seemed to really help the children was physical contact, and Kei was prepared to
give them any amount of cuddles. Minan had accepted the reality of Mayl’s death and it was only Ry-zilim who had trouble with it, though he wasn’t as upset now as he had been. Minan wanted to talk about what happened when people died, and why they had to be buried, and where they went after that. Kei and Karik were as frank as they could be, and Minan seemed to understand.
Ry-zilim got the idea that people who died were buried and then their bodies disappeared—he just didn’t seem to be able to connect it with his mother, or at least, hold the connection in his mind. Kei thought he might need to see her body again, and possibly experience the funeral before he really ‘got’ it. Kei hadn’t had much experience with orphans this young before—he would have to get advice.
Arman and Tije arrived late afternoon, Kei’s lover having to make an effort to smile, his emotions dark and troubled, though he said nothing of what was on his mind. Kei knew better than to press him, at least now. As they were losing the daylight, Karik said he should go, but that brought on a new crisis, because Minan didn’t want him to go away in case he didn’t come back. Karik looked at Kei helplessly—Kei decided to be firm for Karik’s sake.
“Now, Minan, Karik has to go home to Romi. He’ll come back tomorrow, won’t you?”
“Yes, I will." He reached inside his shirt and drew out his precious tero stone. He took it off, and then quickly looped it around Minan’s neck. “See that, Minichi? I want you to keep that until tomorrow, and when I come back, you give it to me.”
Ry-zilim made a grab for it. “Me want!”
Karik kept it out of his reach. “Ry-zilim, no. Not this time. This is something I need Minichi to do for me. No, Minan, I’m not giving it to him. This is something for you.”
Kei reinforced Karik’s words with a stern look at Ry-zilim, who subsided—it had only been curiosity, really. Once he settled, Karik touched the stone. “Now you have to be very careful with it because it’s something important. Can you look after it for me until tomorrow?”
Minan nodded, picking the stone up and looking at the way the colours changed as he twisted it. “Really come back, Ka-chi?”
“I really will. I just have to go home and have supper with Romi, so he won’t be sad. You don’t want Romi to miss me, do you?”
“No, Romi will cry.”
“Yes, he will. Ry-chi? You be a good boy and I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“See you tomorrow,” Ry-zilim repeated.
Karik kissed them both, then gave Kei a hug. “Thank you,” he whispered. “I’ll be all right.”
“I know it, nephew mine.”
He watched him leave, hoping Romi would be able to handle him, and then turned his attention back to his little charges.
Karik would manage. With love and time, they all would.
~~~~~~~~
It was with profound relief that Arman closed the bedroom door behind them. “What a bloody day,” he said, sighing.
“Why do I sense you’ve got even more bad news to impart?”
Arman gave his lover a wry smile. “Because you’re a soul-toucher and you know me very well. Do you want this now? It can wait. It won’t get any worse for waiting.”
Kei kissed him, and Arman allowed himself to indulge in the taste of those beautiful lips, to look into Kei’s well-loved eyes, and to be glad he was not alone in this, that Kei had been there to help those Arman loved and who loved him.
“I think I’d rather know. Will it harm the boys?”
“No. But it’ll hurt Karik, if we tell him. Whether we do that is the thing we need to decide.”
“Then let me give you a massage because I can feel your headache, and then you can tell me. I need to have my hands on you.”
As Arman needed to have them on him, for it had been a disjointed and distressing day, and the news he had got that afternoon, in confidence, had not made any of it better. He had been very careful not to show any of it in his expression or his manner, but there were no secrets from Kei, nor did he want any. He lay down and then moaned a little with pleasure as Kei’s skilled, strong hands worked the tense muscles of his neck.
“Is Karik going to be all right?”
“I think so. He feels guilty over Mayl, which I think I’ve convinced him is stupid, but one can hardly blame him. He wants to make sure his brothers don’t suffer. For some reason, he thinks we’re the answer.”
Arman twisted his head, trying to look behind him. Kei’s voice wasn’t giving much away. “And?”
“And...damn it, Arman, you know the problems. We don’t have room, for a start. Not if we want to have anyone else to stay.”
“We have the Rulers’ House as overflow, and Jena and Reji will soon be staying with Karik. Gyo and Risa can share a room with the boys. We’d manage—we always manage.”
“And Pira? I don’t want her to be put under any strain.”
“I had a word with Peika and Nera. They say that if you take the boys on, as a father, naturally your salary would be increased—and they would also be happy to authorise an allowance so we could hire someone to act both as a nurse for the boys and as Pira’s assistant. If it was done that way, then it wouldn’t hurt Pira’s feelings, and we would be able to make life easier for her.”
Kei’s hands stilled. “You’ve been planning this all day?”
Arman rolled over, and pulled Kei down towards him.
“I’ve been thinking about it since I learned Mayl was dead, because even Pira thought it was a shame we couldn’t take the children. When Karik made that suggestion, my first reaction was that we should. Then of course, I thought of all the reasons why we shouldn’t—but then I couldn’t help but wonder if the difficulties were as great as they seemed. After giving it some thought, I think they’re not.”
Kei stared at him. “You’d really do this—for me?”
“No. For us. A second chance. You don’t get many of them. You know Karik’s right—those boys would flourish with you as a father.”
“But...won’t you mind sharing me? What about them being Mayl’s boys?”
He only smiled. “Karik’s Mayl’s boy too—I got over that a long time ago. As for sharing....”
He reached around and gave Kei’s braid the gentlest of tugs. “I’ve had twenty-three years of you all to myself, and for twenty-three years, you watched someone else raise the child you wanted so badly. The time’s right to give you—and me—a chance to experience fatherhood for ourselves. We can do this. It won’t be easy and I dare say there will be times when I’ll regret ever saying this. But I won’t let you have the regret of losing this chance again. If you don’t want it, say so. But if you want it, I will shift heaven and earth to make it work. I swear it.”
Kei leaned in and kissed him again. “Gods, you’re magnificent. And if I haven’t told you recently, let me remind you I love you very, very much.”
What a romantic fool he was, to still get a thrill at hearing those words from Kei’s mouth. “Do you want it? Do you think the boys want it?”
“I want it. I love them already. I did almost from the first. As for them...you can see how little they need to be happy. If she had given them just a bit more of herself, they wouldn’t have needed more.”
“She wasn’t capable. But you have more than enough for them, and they already respond to you. Considering they only learned about Mayl this morning, I think they’re both remarkably calm, and you have to take the credit.”
“I can’t take the credit for all of it.”
Arman only shook his head. “It’s you they’re looking to for support, you they trust. You and Karik will both be very important to them. I spoke to Seiki about it, and she agrees completely.”
“Been a busy little Ruler, haven’t you?”
Kei kissed him again, then sat up. “Roll over—I haven’t done with the massage.” Arman readily obeyed. “I want some time to think. I want to be sure the boys would be happy and that we can manage. It would be a disaster if we settled them here and then had to move them.”
“Agreed. Take the time you need. But you know I’m right.”
“You’re always right,” Kei said, a smirk in his voice. “Um...but the bad news. Very bad?”
“Sordid, really. We found the man who’d left Mayl’s body in the cart, and he’s confessed his role. He was paid to take a woman from another man—as yet unidentified—and to give her a draught of juice laced with a drug. Now all he had were his instructions—take the woman, give her the drug, bring her to the docks and leave her there. He didn’t know the woman, and barely saw her face since it was covered with a veil—the woman already knew she was to take the drug. But when he got her to the dock, he found she was dead, and took fright. Seiki managed to find him because he’s been chewing on it all day and wondering how to get away.”
“Why drug her...ah, to avoid the mind-speakers? No one person knew all the details, or identity. Clever. But who and why?”
“The ‘why’ is almost certainly the price on her head. I suspect Utuk’s hand in it, though at what level, I have no idea. It’s not something Tir Kamus will admit, is it?”
“Does he know?”
“Yes. He viewed the body and accepted my and Tije’s formal identification. He said it was regrettable but that Mayl had brought it on her own head. He wasn’t exactly weeping over it.”
Kei’s hands kept up their delicious, healing movement on his back, and the headache and strain had disappeared, leaving a wonderful languor. He rather regretted bringing this up tonight—he would much rather be making love than talking about pissing Mayl, but the conversation had to happen sometimes.
“So...it’s neatly solved the dilemma. Considerate of someone. Do you think she was meant to die?”
“The reward was for her alive, so no—if the reward was all that was on offer.”
“And no idea who?”
“Not with any certainty. However, I’ve seen a list of the ships leaving dock last night and this morning, and one of them was the ‘Havernia’. That’s the same boat she came in on, we’ve managed to determine. Kei—the physician on the ‘Havernia’ is a man calling himself ‘Lero’.”
Home Ground (Darshian Tales #4) Page 18