Kei's Gift

by Ann Somerville

  Eyes widened at the use of the word. “No, Sei,” he said in an indignant tone.

  “As well you should not, naturally. It’s very bothersome for me as your master to have to clean up your mistakes.” Arman had learned this silkily vicious tone of voice from Mayl—he’d never had to use it before, but he was discovering it was amazingly effective. “It does not please me at all to be put to this trouble.”

  Mykis gulped. “I’m sorry, Sei Arman.”

  “I’m glad to hear you are. I wouldn’t like to be in the position of having to treat another servant for injuries unlawfully given, nor of being inconvenienced by preparing an affidavit to be used in a prosecution. Assault is such an unattractive thing to have on one’s record, don’t you think?”

  “Yes, Sei,” Mykis mumbled, looking at the floor. “Uh, will that be all?”

  “Did I say it would be all, Mykis? Did I ask you to speak out of turn?” Kei flinched a little at his words—so Arman had guessed correctly at one of the excuses for chastisement.

  “No, Sei.”

  “No, I didn’t think I had. Kei’s belongings are missing—find them and bring them to this room. I also want two clean, dry sets of clothing delivered for him, his other clothes laundered correctly and with care, and also brought here. Find one of my wife’s maids who knows how to braid hair, and send her along with the bath water. Oh, and Mykis? You’re untidy. Your hair needs cutting, there’s a splash of fat on your coat, you missed a spot on your neck when you shaved, and your left thumbnail looks like you’ve been cleaning a stove with it. I won’t tolerate such low standards. See you don’t appear before me again like this.”

  “No, Sei.”

  “Now go away, I have better things to do than to dally all day talking to you.”

  The man bowed, his face now red with anger which Arman ignored, and left them alone.

  Arman poured himself a glass of wine and looked at Kei thoughtfully as he sipped it. “You know, I rather enjoyed doing that.”

  Kei’s eyes were on stalks. “My lord...if I can ask...how does such a man come to work for you?”

  Arman set the glass down, and wished Kei would lose this tendency to ask the most pointed questions. “He doesn’t. He’s my wife’s creature. I wouldn’t have someone like that in my command or my home, if I had a choice.”

  “But...this is your home, isn’t it? Why don’t you ask your wife to remove him?”

  Arman sighed and folded his arms, regarding Kei and his still terrified expression. “Because life and war are about choosing your battles. I choose not to fight a battle over the staff unless it becomes unavoidable, as it has in your case. I can keep Mykis under control without dismissing him, and without an argument with my wife. So I choose one battle, and ignore the other one. Any more impertinent questions before we eat?”

  “No, my lord,” Kei murmured, before he picked up his fork and speared a luglo root. “But I’ll treasure the look on his face until the day I die.”

  Arman had to grin, the first real smile he’d had on his face in months. “It was rather wonderful, wasn’t it? Stupid damn man— he’d be eaten alive in the army.”

  Kei nodded and began to eat, a faint smile on his lips, the fearful look now gone. Arman noted his appetite was heartier than his capacity to finish the meal once more, and wondered exactly on how little food his servant had been surviving over the last month. The man wasn’t a giant to begin with, very tall and quite lean by nature anyway, but he was now quite gaunt. Although, even with a single day’s better treatment, he was altogether less ill and worn.

  When only half of the food was gone, Kei stopped, looking at his plate regretfully. “I can’t eat any more, even though I know I want it.”

  “Never mind, don’t force yourself.”

  Kei laid down his fork. “My lord, you mentioned good news?”

  “Oh, yes. I’m afraid I’ll be too busy for some time to come to work further on the dictionary as we did today, but I’ve asked a friend of mine if you and he might continue the task. He’s my former tutor, a trusted friend. Speaks Darshianese like a native—he’s the one who taught me. You can start tomorrow if you feel strong enough.” He expected Kei to be pleased, but his servant looked down at the table and appeared apprehensive. “Now what’s wrong, Kei?”

  “My lord...he’s not...he won’t...?” Kei bit his lip and went quiet.

  Arman tsked in irritation. “Do you think I would send you to someone else to abuse you, when I’ve just gone to all this trouble to put a stop to it here? I must have misjudged your intelligence”

  Kei lowered his gaze respectfully. “I’m sorry, my lord. I’ll work with this man, as you wish. What’s his name?”

  “Karus-pei. Karus. He’s elderly now, and not in good health, so I expect you to be considerate and not tire him out. He doesn’t see a lot of people now. He’d welcome the company, I know.”

  “Yes, my lord. ‘Pei’ is...teacher?”

  “‘Honoured teacher’. When the honorific is in front of the name, it’s a title or position, after the name it’s more a term of respect, an earned term of affection or status.”

  “Oh, I hadn’t realised. So ‘Sei’ isn’t ‘lord’, it’s...?”

  “Senator’s child. ‘Ard’, sea captain, and so on. The Darshianese don’t use such things?”

  Kei shook his head. “No, my lord. We’re a very disrespectful people.”

  “So I see,” Arman said dryly. Yes, it really was just as well to pass Kei to Karus, who was well used to dealing with young people with more spirit than common sense. Kei would be well treated, and maybe he would even look back on this time as one in which he learned some things of benefit to him. The Prij owed him a little compensation for his pain, after all, and if the empire got a decent dictionary out of it, then everyone benefited. It had been a while since Arman had felt so satisfied with one of his labours. It served justice and practicality at the same time, while removing someone from his day-to-day life who disturbed him greatly, albeit in the most innocent way.

  Loke had done that too, right from the moment Arman met him. But he wasn’t ready for another Loke in his life—and likely never would be. Let Karus look after Kei, and let Arman be alone. It was best for all concerned.

  ~~~~~~~~

  Despite the quite surprising degree of patience Arman had shown Kei over his fearfulness, and the trouble to which he’d gone to reassure Kei that this Karus wasn’t another bullying Prij, he couldn’t stop feeling apprehensive about the meeting about to take place. He felt a lot better today—still very sore but nowhere near as weak and shaky as he had yesterday, and had readily assured Arman he could manage an easy day’s scholarship with a retired gentleman. To be honest, he could have easily spent another day resting, but if Arman wouldn’t be there, Kei didn’t want to risk encountering Mykis on his own, however delicious it had been to see the brute reduced to quivering, helpless, red-faced anger by Arman’s razor-edged tongue. Mykis would be plotting his revenge, and Kei wasn’t at all sure the fear of retribution from Arman was greater than Mykis’s need to exact retribution from Kei.

  He still couldn’t get over how civil and pleasant Arman was. Kei could still feel a lot of the emotions he’d come to associate with Arman—the intense sadness, the hostility, frustration, and some anger—but they had been transmuted, their target changed, and Arman himself had at last reined in his more dangerous feelings. Perhaps the passage of time had worked its inevitable magic on the man’s heart. Kei hoped this was so both for Arman’s sake and his own. Grief was a deadly emotion if left unchecked—he knew this personally. He didn’t want to see anyone suffer the way his mother had, or the way Arman had been when Kei had first encountered him. He was still puzzled as to when the change had occurred—had the business with Mykis lanced the wound? If so, why?

  Arman had offered to take Kei to the tutor’s house in a light jesig-drawn vehicle, the type which Kei saw passing along the avenues even now, but the idea of being jolted in that manner,
or on the back of a jesig, made him plead to be allowed to walk, however slowly. It wasn’t that far, so Arman had agreed, pitching his stride to Kei’s slow pace, the soldiers escorting them (as they always escorted Arman, the general hastened to reassure him) walking at the same rate. Kei was sweating with the effort by the time they arrived at a much more modest house than Arman’s, but his aching muscles had loosened up and the exercise would help disburse the pooled blood of his bruises. So long as Arman didn’t expect him to haul buckets of water for a while, he’d be fine.

  A footman opened the door to Arman’s knock and they entered. As Kei’s eyes were adjusting to the darker interior, he heard a woman call “Kei? Gods, Kei!” Then he was rushed at and embraced by an excited and delighted Jena. “It’s you, oh, gods!”

  Kei winced. He was as overwhelmed with relief and pleased surprise as she was—only she was hurting his back. “Let go, Jena, I’m injured.”

  “Oh.” She let him go and looked at him critically. “What’s happened to you? You look like shit.”

  “Is that your professional opinion?” h said with a grin. He heard a throat being cleared and he turned. “I’m sorry, my lord, I just...we’re just....”

  “Happy to see each other, yes, I can see. Jena, please tell Karus-pei I’m here.”

  She bowed. “Yes, my lord.” She gave Kei a quick smile and left.

  “My lord, you didn’t mention Karus had any of us with him.”

  Arman looked at him steadily. “It slipped my mind, Kei. I hope this will reassure you somewhat that he doesn’t mistreat people of your race.”

  “Yes, my lord, it does.” He still couldn’t believe it—after weeks with no news at all, to find Jena of all people living so close by, and that he would probably be seeing her every day for a while.... He couldn’t stop smiling.

  “If I had known it would make you this cheerful, I’d have made it my business to remember. Shall we go on? Karus will be in the garden, enjoying the sun.”

  Did Arman not approve of Jena? He’d spoken to her with familiarity, so must have seen her a few times before, but he sounded so frosty towards her. Had she upset him on one of those visits? Kei fervently hoped not. He didn’t want Arman to retreat into his cold shell again. It was painful for both of them.

  He followed the general out into a small but lovely garden, in which grew many plants Kei easily recognised from Darshian, the kind that grew where there was more water available. In a long, low-wheeled chair, sat an elderly, rather frail man with intense, brightly intelligent eyes. He smiled warmly as they approached. “Welcome, welcome, both of you. So, Arman, this is the young man of which you spoke?”

  “Yes, this is Kei of Albon. How are you feeling, Pei?” he said, standing and going to Karus’s table to lay the notes he had made about Darshianese characters the day before, and to touch Karus’s hand with gentle affection.

  Karus waved them over to the chairs near him, metal ones that matched the table he was using for books, and indicated they should sit. “Much better, Arman. Jena made me some tea with uyris flowers—did you know they were good for congestion? Wonderful things, I suggest you try it when you next have a cold.”

  Arman glanced at Kei. “No, Pei, I didn’t know this. Jena has medical knowledge?”

  Kei interrupted hesitantly. “My lord, Jena is a healer like me, a very skilled one.”

  Karus put one hand over his heart. “Blessed gods, another one. Are you all healers in Darshian?”

  “No, my lord Karus. We’re the only ones in the hostage group, and there is usually only one in every village, two at the very most. Jena is far more experienced than I am.”

  “Well, then I am fortunate indeed to have you both in my home, and I expect to live many more years with what I will learn from you. Now, Arman, stop scowling. Have you time for some pijo?”

  “I regret not, Pei. I had to do other things yesterday, but the Lord Commander is expecting me this morning, and then I have to attend on Senator Mekus. I’ll return this evening to fetch Kei—are you sure you’re up to him being here all day?”

  “Certainly, and if I fall asleep like the senile old fool I am, he and Jena can talk until I wake up.” Kei smiled. He was beginning to feel fond of this kindly old man. “Let us chatter together while you attend to the important affairs of state.”

  Arman’s face creased with a genuinely affectionate smile. “I would rather stay than go, but I’ll go. Kei, please be careful of Karus, he’s a national treasure and I’d be sad if he was damaged.”

  Kei understood the serious message behind the flippancy and bowed his head. “Yes, my lord. Thank you for introducing me.”

  “Such lovely manners,” Karus said with a sigh, his eyes twinkling. “Not like someone I could recall very easily, if I put my aged mind to it.”

  “I doubt it will take you very long, Pei. I’ll be back before supper. Kei, please don’t leave the house for any reason other than a summons direct from me, do you understand?”

  “Yes, my lord.” Kei couldn’t sense anything other than slight concern for him, so he doubted Arman thought he would try to abscond. He must really think his staff are criminally minded.

  “Fine—no, don’t stand, Kei. Good day, Karus.”

  Kei found himself being scrutinised closely, and forced himself not to twitch. At last, Karus sighed and rang the little bell he had on the table. “How badly are you injured, young man?”

  “My lord?”

  “Call me Karus, dear boy, I’m no one’s lord or master or ‘Sei’. You’re hurt, are you not?”

  “Yes...Karus. Bruising, nothing more.”

  “Hmmm. How did you come by an injury so severe that Arman is happy for you to sit in his presence, and forbid you to stand at his departure as is only expected of a servant?”

  “I....” Kei really didn’t know how to deal with this. If he lied, and Arman had already told him the truth, Karus would think him sly. If he told the truth, Arman would have every right to be angry that matters concerning his household were being spread about. “Forgive me, Karus, it’s a private matter which Sei Arman will explain if he wishes to.”

  Karus grunted, and then was forced to cough painfully. “Discreet and polite. You must be an excellent physician.”

  “I’m a beginner only, my lord...Karus, I mean.”

  “And modest too,” Karus noted dryly. “A paragon, indeed. Do you have any faults?”

  “I’m told I’m impertinent. Does that count?”

  Karus laughed but then had to cough again. “Damn cold, makes me feel twice my age. Ah, Jena, are you pleased at my little surprise?”

  “Yes, Karus, thank you.” She smiled with obvious affection at her master. She’s been lucky, Kei thought, with only a trace of jealousy. “Do you want a pot of pijo, or some tea?”

  “The tea again, I think, but inside, in the library. Send Matez to wheel my chair in, and you take young Kei to the kitchen and find out what he wants to drink. I shan’t be in any hurry for the tea, if you two want to catch up. And then Kei and I have our little task to do for Arman.”

  “Thank you, Karus,” she said, and Kei echoed the sentiment. “Come on, I’ll make you something hot to drink.”

  She held his wrist as they walked. “Gods, you’re moving like a cripple—what’s happened?”

  “Show you in the kitchen, but don’t say a thing to Karus, all right?”

  “You’re worrying me, but I’m so glad to see you.”

  “Same here.”

  “I know,” she said with a grin, tapping her forehead. “I nearly fainted when Arman turned up here the day after I arrived. I had no idea you were with him. Has it been very bad?”

  “I’ve not been as fortunate as you, let’s put it like that.” They had arrived at the kitchens, which, like the rest of the house, were smaller than those of Arman’s home. “How many staff does Karus have?” Unlike Arman’s kitchens which were never empty of people, he and Jena were the only people there.

  She drew boiling
water from the supply on the stove into a teapot and added a handful of uyris flowers from a container near the sink. “Apart from me, there’s Cook, and Siza, her assistant—they’re both out at the market—and Matez, who’s the footman and the gardener and general help.”

  “Gods, Arman has four times as many, and a wife as well.”

  “I’ve heard about her,” Jena said dryly. “Now show me what you’ve been hiding.”

  “Are you sure we won’t be interrupted?”

  “Kei, have you injured your penis or something?” she asked impatiently. “You’re making me very worried.”

  “You’ll need to help me with my shirt.” He sensed her anxiety—it wasn’t going to improve.

  He was right, of course. She gasped as he turned around. “Oh...gods.”

  “Is it very bad?”

  “You should be in bed with chuo sap dressings on it, and you damn well know it. Who did this? The golden general? I’ll kill him!”

  Kei grabbed her wrist. “Don’t say that even in jest. You could end up getting yourself and the rest of your villagers killed. It wasn’t Arman—it was his damn steward. Arman didn’t know—he was furious when he found out. That’s why I’m here—to keep me out of the little bastard’s way.”

  “Was it by his wife’s orders? Karus doesn’t come right out and say it, but I know he thinks she’s a bitch—and Arman is here almost every night.”

  Kei hadn’t known this was where Arman spent his time. “He thinks she’s behind some of it, at least. She definitely knows it’s happening. I’ve hardly seen her, don’t think much of what I do. They’re not love’s young dream, but she’s expecting.”

  “Only takes one lucky fuck for that to happen, as you know.”

  “Jena! Anyway, I don’t think it’s infected, but I can’t see it. Tell me honestly how bad it is, and then you better get that tea to Karus.”

  She skimmed her hands gently over his back, which still made him flinch. “It must really hurt.”

  “It was worse two days ago. Will I live?”

  “Probably, unless the bastard who did this has another go. You don’t have to exert yourself while this heals? Tell me he’s not that callous.”