Kei's Gift

by Ann Somerville

  “My headaches—it wasn’t just a massage that time, was it?”

  Kei shrugged. “It was, mostly—but I was also using my gift to work on the blood vessels causing the pain. I didn’t mean to deceive you, but I would be in terrible trouble with Tiko for telling you this much.”

  Arman could imagine why. What other secrets did they have? “So you could kill a man by stopping his heart or choking him?”

  Kei slapped his hand on the table, gave Arman a dirty look, and got up to get the stone jar of beer again. “You still don’t understand me at all, do you?”

  “I didn’t mean you personally or at all. Just in theory. Someone less scrupulous than you, I meant,” Arman added, a touch irritably. Of course Kei wouldn’t kill—but if he had this power and hadn’t used it on that bastard Mykis, his restraint was the real wonder, not his gift.

  “No gifted person would ever use their power offensively or to kill,” Kei said emphatically. “To do so would invite fear and persecution—it’s only common sense.”

  “Yes, I can see that. But if this isn’t a myth...what other gifts are there?”

  “Reji can produce fire,” Kei admitted reluctantly. “Just little balls of flame, and before you ask, no, he doesn’t use them to hurt people either. He mainly uses it to amuse the children and to light his stove in the winter.”

  Arman sat back, feeling stunned. “You mean to tell me you can manipulate objects with your mind, your lover can make fire—and this isn’t remarkable among your people?”

  “Well, they’re not very useful gifts for the main part, or particularly unusual—every village has at least one or two people with some kind of gift. Mind-speaking is the most common, soul-touching is the most rare, but it’s completely random. No family is more prone to produce gifted children than any other, and there’s no way of predicting which gift will turn up where. It comes at a price, since it means we’re infertile and, as you’ve seen, my soul-touching gift makes me vulnerable. The mind-moving is useful sometimes. The soul-touching I would gladly give away.”

  “But Kei—” Arman was going to say this might help somehow in his plans to get the hostages back, but then he realised that, with such limited scope, let alone the ethics of the gifted, it made little difference. “Never mind. Thank you for trusting me with this—I won’t betray the confidence.”

  “I know that,” Kei muttered. “Tiko doesn’t.”

  “Have I upset you? I’m sorry to ask about the killing ability. I’m a soldier—we just think in that way. I meant no offence.”

  Kei sat down again. “No,” he said somewhat wearily. “I suppose I wished it was more useful, and then I started thinking about Reji and Jena and the others. Don’t mind me. Just eat up. I want to give you a wash—Reji would appreciate you not putting trail dust all over his best sheets, I’m sure.”

  Arman obeyed and set to the plain but excellent food. As he ate, he looked around the house—by far the smallest he had yet been lodged in. “Where will you sleep? Is there another bedroom?” No bed had been brought in—as Reji’s bedroom was on the same level as the rest of the house, also somewhat unusually, Arman assumed they hadn’t thought it would be needed.

  “No. I can sleep on the bedroll.”

  “There’s room for two on the bed.”

  Kei scowled. “And have that bastard Tiko grinning at me again?”

  Arman sighed. “As you wish. I doubt it will make any difference to what he thinks or says.”

  “I could get a bed brought over from my house....” Kei looked around at the little room. “Or not. All right. But this is still a very bad habit to get into.”

  Arman bit his lip trying not to laugh at Kei’s mournful tone. “I promise not to enjoy it if you don’t.”

  “I don’t have any choice. I wish you snored or something, or even farted like Neki does. You’re easily the most considerate bedmate I’ve ever had other than Reji. It makes it even harder to try to sleep apart from you.”

  Arman didn’t know what to say to this. Yet again, their conversation had descended into the easy, comfortable manner he imagined a husband and wife might have, and he had constantly to remind himself that they were not lovers. They would not even be able to be friends forever, or even in contact, most likely. “If sleeping with me is causing you so much turmoil, I could insist you don’t. Tiko can’t really fly in the face of both our expressed wishes.”

  Kei propped his chin on his hand and looked at Arman. “Do you want Teki to go with you to Darshek?”

  “No, not at all. The situation suits me. I just don’t want this constant agonising over things we have little power to change.”

  “All right. Then I’ll shut up. I hope Reji hasn’t picked up any disagreeable habits since I saw him last. I don’t think he’d appreciate the comparison.”

  “I think,” Arman said carefully, “Reji probably doesn’t need to know. Why should he?”

  Kei straightened up. “Lie?”

  “No, omit. If he asks you directly, if you slept with me, then tell him. But I doubt he will. He’ll just be overjoyed at your return, and glad to have you back in his bed.”

  That seemed to depress Kei, who started putting the food away and cleaning up their plates without comment. He still felt intimate relations with his lover might be painful, and yet, Arman still suspected that being with the man he loved was exactly what Kei needed. But he couldn’t argue, having no facts—only hope that once the two lovers were reunited, things would improve.

  It was a quiet evening—Arman hadn’t expected to have Kei to himself his first night back, but he must have impressed his family and friends with the need for them to rest—and after Kei bathed them both, he insisted Arman went back to bed. “I’ll take those stitches out for you tomorrow when it’s light,” he promised. “Damn shame you broke those ribs. If you hadn’t, you’d be on crutches already.”

  “Can’t you support them in some way so I can?” Arman was heartily sick of being carried about.

  “I could—but there’s still a risk of re-injury and delaying your healing. It’s only been just over four weeks—leave it until Ai-Beyto at least, but I’ll ask our carpenter if he has time to make some crutches here to take with us. He’s made them before and he’s good at it.” Kei yawned. “I was going to sit up and read, but I think I’ll go to bed.”

  “At least you’ll have some pleasant memories, sleeping in here.”

  Kei gave him a wide smile. “Oh, those I have anyway.”

  Again that pang of jealousy, knowing Reji was a skilled lover, and beloved too. Arman could never offer what Kei had come to expect from a lover. Gods, he didn’t even know what to do with a woman, and that was supposed to be pure instinct in men. Listening to Tiko’s soldiers talking so casually about their conquests, their sexual experience, their confidence in their attractiveness to the opposite sex.... Arman was used to being good at almost everything he put his hand to, but he hadn’t even been able to get his wife pregnant. Perhaps that isn’t actually something to regret.

  He hadn’t thought of Mayl in weeks, not since before they’d crossed Tirko Pass. She had to have been at least two months gone when she’d tried to fool him, possibly even more, so she was close to having what would be theoretically a very premature infant. Perhaps it would have her lover’s foul temper, and pay her back nicely for the trick.

  Kei stripped down to his shirt and climbed under the blankets, curling around Arman and lending his lovely warmth to him. Then he shifted and rested his head on Arman’s shoulder. “You feel...annoyed.”

  “Sorry...thinking of things I may never have to deal with again, I suppose.”

  “Home?”

  “Never home, Kei. Not any more. Not since Loke died.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  He clenched his fist. “All my life, I’ve known what my role had to be, and all my life I’ve played that role as dutifully as I could. Now I’m walking away from it, and I have no idea what will happen. Will Darshek offer me a tru
e home at last, do you think?”

  “You’ll find happiness,” Kei said in a low, gentle voice. “Just as you feel an answer for me lies there, so I believe that for you.”

  Arman grunted, and lay still to encourage Kei to go to sleep. Kei’s solution lay in a lover he already had. Arman had none to call on. He wanted to believe Kei’s confidence meant things would work out. Still, he had gone into battle with far fewer assurances of success. All he could do was march on until the fight was won—or lost.

  Chapter : Return to Darshian 9

  Kei woke with a familiar sense of guilt at having slept so well, compounded by where he found himself—and knowing he’d essentially abandoned his friends and family the evening before. Yet he really felt refreshed, and Arman, still asleep, looked relaxed and as always when he slept, very young and entirely harmless.

  Still wish you’d shave that damn beard, though. He climbed out of the bed and found his trousers. He yawned, scratched and thought about breakfast. The larder was empty, unfortunately. Meis. It was still early, but Rin’s family would already be up, if not getting ready to go mining, then to get ready for Banji’s wedding. Kei needed to go begging.

  There were people up everywhere, and once again he was greeted and waved to—if he’d ever been in any doubt he, or at least his profession and his family, were well liked, the reception on his return would have eradicated it. He walked down the street to the edge of town and knocked once on Rin’s door, before going in. Pijli and Risa immediately jumped him on and there was a confusing five minutes or so as he tried to answer a dozen questions from two excited young people.

  “Now, that’s enough of that,” Rin said, pulling his offspring off Kei and holding his hand out with a broad smile. “Welcome home, Kei.”

  “It’s good to be back, Rin.” He put his arms out and Meis came into them with a little cry of joy. “You’re all safe. I’d been so worried.”

  “No more than we were about you,” Rin said. “Are you here for breakfast?”

  “To beg some food to take away, in fact. I have the general to feed back at Reji’s house.”

  Meis escaped his arms. “I still can’t believe he’s back here as a prisoner. I hope he’s suffering for his crimes.”

  “He’s not really a prisoner,” Kei said, resigned to the fact that no one in his village would see Arman as anything but a demon. “I wanted to steal some butter, bread and honey if you can spare any.”

  “Of course, let me get them, but have some tea and tell us what happened to you.”

  It was somehow easier to tell Rin and the others something of his ordeal, although he skimmed over most of it, and didn’t mention the deaths of the Ai-Vinri hostages for fear of upsetting the young ones. “You heard I’m going on to Darshek?”

  Rin nodded. “Banji and Misek said. Something about you needing medical treatment yourself.”

  “Of a kind. I’ll be back for the Spring dance, because I think Pijli promised me last year that this year it was my turn for first offer.” He got a blush out of Pijli and a shy nod. “Now, tell me your news.”

  It had been hard, but not awful. The soldiers had mostly kept to themselves, for which Kei was very grateful, considering Ai-Vinri’s experience—the worst thing, other than worrying about loved ones being held from them, had been seeing their precious stores being sent south to feed other soldiers. “What of the Andonese? And where are the Darshianese soldiers?”

  “Oh, they’re here,” Rin said. “But not making themselves obvious. The Andonese relieved Ai-Kislik while our men cut off communications between the villages and the soldiers before they were surrounded. Another mixed group of Andonese and our soldiers moved south, cut the Tirko Pass off and then overran that fort. The Prij never knew what hit them, I heard.”

  Kei nodded. “They were pretty puzzled in Utuk. That’s why Arman was sent to find out what was going on.”

  “Arman?” Rin asked, one bushy eyebrow raised questioningly. “You’re on a first name basis with the enemy now?”

  Kei flushed. “I...we’re not enemies. Not personally. And he’s going to help us get our people back, I told you.”

  Meis set a sack in front of him. “He’s only righting the wrong he himself did—it’s worthy, but not that worthy. Remember who got us—and him—into this situation.”

  “I do. The situation itself isn’t that simple.” He swallowed off the rest of his tea and stood. “I really need to get back.” He leaned over and kissed Meis’s cheek. “I’ll be around later to find out what’s happening with the joining ceremony.”

  “Oh, gods, Kei, do you realise what you’re doing, making us arrange that in a single day?” But she smiled as she complained.

  “You’re up to it—all we need is my sister and your son lawfully joined. No one will care how much beer or how many cakes there are.”

  “No—but it’ll be more enjoyable if people go away with full stomachs. Now, shoo, young man,” she said, making the gesture to match the words. “Rin has to go to the mine, Pijli is going to help me cook—”

  “And I’m going to stay out of the way,” Risa announced solemnly. “I want to see the general, Ma. Can I?”

  Kei couldn’t miss Meis’s slight protective movement towards her son, nor her anxiety. “Not this time, Risa,” he answered easily, reassuring the mother and placating the son. “He’s sick, and not that impressive.”

  “He was huge,” Risa said in awe. “When I grow up, I want to be that tall and wear golden armour like that. And I want a big sword.”

  Rin frowned and Meis was quick to jump on that statement. “No son of mine is wearing armour or a sword. Finish up and go find Banji. Tell him I said there’ll be plenty of time for all that later—he’ll know what I mean.”

  “Yes, Ma.”

  Kei winked at her. “You’re evil.”

  “Just imposing a little decorum, although after what those two were up to in Darshek, I don’t know why they bothered waiting to be wed until they got back. Hurry up, Risa. Pijli, could you go to the stores and get me a sack of flour?”

  “Yes, Ma. Come on, Risa.” Pijli tugged on Risa’s collar and hauled him out the front door.

  “Risa was a little too fascinated by the soldiers,” Meis said quietly. “Just get that man out of Ai-Albon, Kei. I don’t like what he represents, and I hate what he’s done to our people.”

  “I understand. He’ll be gone tomorrow.”

  Rin grunted. “Good thing too. We’ll see you later.”

  “Of course.”

  Kei left with a heavier heart than when he entered the house, although he could easily understand Meis’s anxiety. Her reactions were exactly his own on encountering the Prij. He was still frightened of them. Arman was an exception to that, not a rule, but his former actions made it hard for people to see he was that exception.

  Neki was the only soldier on duty—Tiko must have judged Ai-Albon safe. He nodded to the big man and went inside. He found Arman awake and feeling rather anxious. “Did you think I’d run off and left you?” he teased, getting his arms under Arman’s shoulders and helping him up and out of bed.

  “No, I was wondering if getting up to relieve my bladder was worth the humiliation of falling flat on my backside,” Arman said curtly. “Where were you anyway?”

  “Just getting some breakfast for us, my lord.” He helped Arman to the earth closet, and then back to the kitchen. “I wouldn’t run off, you know that.”

  “You’re making too much of my need to piss,” Arman muttered. Kei decided if Arman wanted to pretend he wasn’t with someone who knew exactly how he was feeling from minute to minute, that was up to him.

  He served up thick slices of Meis’s good bread and her best butter, encouraging Arman to try the honey. By the time he’d brewed tea for them both, Arman’s odd grumpiness was gone. He sipped his tea peaceably, commenting on the quality of the bread, and told Kei about some of the lousy food he’d eaten on campaigns. It would be a dull day for Arman. Kei wished he could t
ake Arman to see his father’s library—but after what Meis had said, it was obvious any sightseeing would have to wait. “In another time or place,” he muttered.

  “Kei?”

  “Nothing. Ready for me to take your stitches out?”

  He took Arman back to the bedroom and fetched his scissors. Annoyingly, a knock came at the door just as he was pulling out the second stitch. Arman immediately tensed up. “It’ll just be a friend,” Kei soothed. “I’ll tell them I’ll come see them later.”

  Arman nodded and Kei went out to answer the door. He threw it open, ready to send whoever it was on his way, then blinked in surprise. “Myka...I was going to come and see you in a short while.”

  She was freshly bathed, but not looking very cheerful for someone about to be married that day. “Can I come in?”

  “Uh...sure. I’m busy, but is something wrong?”

  She bit her lip and played with the end of her braid. “I was talking to Banji last night,” she said in a low voice.

  “Oh, is that what they’re calling it now?” he joked.

  She glared. “We were,” she said. “We don’t...you know...all the time.”

  He clasped his breast dramatically. “It gladdens a brother’s heart to know his sister doesn’t actually making love every hour of the day.”

  She stamped her foot crossly. “Oooh, you’re impossible to talk to when you’re like this.”

  He pulled her into a hug. “I’m sorry. What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing. It’s just...that man,” she said, glancing towards the bedroom. “He’s really, truly a friend?”

  “Yes, I told you. What’s that to do with anything?”

  “Well, I was talking to Banji and trying to understand how you could... how you could bear to...and...he said, maybe I should just go talk to him myself.”

  Kei stared in astonishment. “You want to meet Arman? Now?”

  “Well, why not?” she said irritably. “You’re only here today and I won’t see him again...oh, this is stupid,” she said, turning away.