Kei's Gift

by Ann Somerville

  Gods. He just remembered—Kei’s book was still in his pack. Ah, but then that would allow Arman to have it returned with a note, if it was permitted. He could at least say farewell in that way.

  He laid the walking stick Kei had made for him across his knees. It was a fine bit of seasoned wood—Kei had spent some time selecting it from the carpenter’s workshop in Kislik, sanding it and cutting it to the right height himself in the workshop, and then spent the evenings by the fire as they camped for the night, polishing it. The night he’d declared Arman could trying walking a little distance, he’d handed it to Arman with an apology for it not being as good as it could be, but Arman had been delighted to have tangible evidence of Kei’s friendship and concern. Even now, as he rubbed his fingers along the silky grain, it was almost like rubbing his fingers down the long smooth length of Kei’s braid. He wished it was the real thing—he had touched Kei’s hair for the last time and regretted this was so, even though the day had to come sooner or later. He’d just not expected it to be quite this soon.

  In the dying sunlight, he saw there was something carved under the curve of the handle. He couldn’t make it out, so he lit a lamp and brought the stick closer to examine the carving. It seemed to be Darshianese lettering and the carefully incised characters were unfamiliar to him. He was still trying to puzzle it out when there was a knock on the door.

  “Come in,” he called.

  A grey-haired man with a serious expression came in and bowed. “I’m Loti, general—a healer. Lord Meki sent me to check your leg and your general health.”

  Loti asked him to undress while he lit several lamps around the room. “Ah, a bad injury then,” he said when he saw Arman’s scar. “What happened?” Arman briefly described his injuries as he understood them to be. Loti tsked at his being off crutches. “That’s negligent—your leg may not be healed yet, general.”

  “The young physician in attendance for the journey was very cautious, I assure you. He’s a mind-mover, and checked my recovery at every stage. If he says my leg is healed, sir, then it’s healed.”

  Loti blinked at his emphatic declaration. “A mind-mover who’s a healer? I didn’t know we had one of those. What’s his name?”

  “Kei of Ai-Albon. He struck me as being a very capable and learned young man.”

  Loti stared. “Not Keiji and Erte’s boy?”

  “Yes, I believe so.”

  “Good gods. I was at the academy with Erte—such a clever woman, and such a kind-hearted one. We exchanged many letters, and I was deeply sorry to hear of her death. But she never mentioned Kei was a mind-mover. Now...wait, yes, I think she said he was a soul-toucher. That’s right. I think you’re mistaken, general,” he said as he gentled probed Arman’s ribs.

  “No, I certainly am not,” Arman said irritably. “He has both gifts, he said. He’s no liar—he demonstrated the mind-moving to me, and I had the other independently verified.”

  “Truly? Two gifts? That’s almost unheard of. If that’s the case, to have had Erte’s son and such a gifted and clever healer as your personal attendant for your journey was indeed fortunate—this is a very serious wound you have taken.”

  “I’m aware of that, and it was no fortune—Kei was one of the hostages. Through circumstance for which I can take no credit, he was placed in my charge as a servant. If any credit or fortune there be, it comes from his head, not mine.”

  “Hmmm.” Loti looked at him seriously. “Whatever the reason, you’re truly a lucky man. You’ve healed extraordinarily well, and quickly. You still need to be cautious about the leg—I presume he told you?”

  Arman almost grinned, remembering. “I was made to swear many oaths on the subject before he would consent to let me leave off the crutches, I assure you. Kei is almost ridiculously careful with his patients.”

  Loti shook his head with a smile. “General, there’s no such thing as an over-careful healer, just over-impatient patients. But he’s given you excellent care and I’ll report as much to the Rulers. Do you feel well? Your digestion? Your sleep?”

  “Other than being rather tired at the moment, I’m in perfect health, sir. I’m sadly out of shape from the inactivity, but that’s hardly anyone’s fault.”

  “Never thought it was. Kei has you doing exercises, I presume?”

  “Yes, and he was massaging the leg which helped.”

  Loti nodded. “Yes, it would. We have a young woman training to be a healer who’s very good at such matters—I’ll arrange for her to attend you tomorrow. Do you have a robe or something to put on? I imagine you’ll want to bathe.”

  Arman told him where the clothes were, and Loti helped him into it. “Don’t attempt to get into the bath on your own just yet. Mijli will arrange someone to assist you. You will need to be very careful for the next couple of weeks at least that you don’t slip and fall on that leg again.”

  Arman agreed to the advice and Loti prepared to leave. “One moment, sir—I wonder if you can translate something for me?”

  He pointed out the carving on the walking stick. Loti had trouble seeing it too but finally he nodded. “It says, I think, ‘For the golden one, from he who is a friend.’ Or lover possibly, but in this context one assumes friend. It can just mean ‘he or she who loves or is beloved’ rather than lover, but it’s a rather archaic character to use. I think the confusion is deliberate.”

  Arman flushed. “‘Golden one?’”

  “It’s a pun—golden can refer to the colour, so I assume it refers to your hair, but it can also mean favoured, beloved or bringer of joy.” Loti gave him a slightly mischievous smile. “Did you make a conquest of a carpenter?”

  “No. I don’t know why this was carved. The thing came from Kislik. I think it might have been there already,” he lied. What on earth had Kei been thinking?

  “Second hand? It doesn’t look that old to me, but if you’re correct, then it’s probably an inscription from a husband to a wife, to say it was a labour of love. It’s discreetly done—by placing it where the fingers must always touch it, it’s very symbolic in our culture too. I wonder that whoever owned it could bear to give it away.”

  Arman pretended a lack of interest in the subject. “Perhaps they died and it was no longer needed.”

  “Perhaps,” Loti said. “Well, goodnight, general. I reside in the House, so if you need anything, send for me. Please do be careful on that leg and keep up the exercises.”

  “Yes, I will.”

  As Loti left, Arman stared at the polished wood of the walking stick lying on the desk. His fingers traced the complicated characters carved with such delicate skill, with such care and thought. Kei, my dear friend, you truly are beloved. Please be well and happy, wherever you are now.

  ~~~~~~~~

  It had taken them a good four hours to get to the port once Arman had been handed over, and Kei was glad Tiko decided to let his men travel separately, taking their time with the pack beasts while he and Kei rode on at a fast trot. It meant he didn’t have to talk to Tiko or anyone else, so the turmoil and the sadness he felt remained his own secret. Kei was glad Tiko was with him. Kei knew the way, roughly, to the inn, a popular resting place for sailors and travellers down by the harbour, outside the city proper, but close to stores, docks and merchants—but he found it hard to think or concentrate. Tiko took the lead, and all Kei had to do was follow.

  They took a break to let the animals rest and to get some water for themselves. Kei felt Tiko’s concern, but he didn’t want to discuss it. Even sensing Tiko’s emotions was grating on him, and he realised with dismay that his control was breaking down again. All Kei could do was grit his teeth and try to do a few of the exercises that Jena had taught him, and hope that nothing would happen for the next few hours which would disturb him too greatly.

  So absorbed was he that it was something of a shock when Tiko pulled up in the late afternoon outside a large building with a implausibly cheerful-looking rodent painted on a prominent sign. “There she is,” he
said. “I’ll need to go in with you and authorise your bill.”

  Kei nodded. They tied up their beasts and Kei unloaded his animal, since Tiko would take it on to the main army stables. He had no need of the beast any more, and if he did, he knew where he could claim it.

  They had to walk through a busy eating area to get to the reception, and Kei winced as a dozen or more strangers’ emotions hit him. “Are you all right, lad? You’ve been looking poorly since we set out.”

  “My gift’s playing up,” Kei muttered. “I need to be on my own for a while.”

  “Fair enough.” Tiko rang the bell, and shortly a large, motherly looking woman turned up and greeted them politely. “This lad’s a guest of Lord Meki—his lordship says to bill whatever Kei needs to him.”

  “How long are you—”

  A deep, familiar voice interrupted her. “Kei?”

  Kei turned. Reji. His lover took four long steps and then Kei was wrapped in Reji’s arms, an exquisite agony as Reji’s joy washed over him. “Let go,” he murmured reluctantly, wanting to be close to Reji, but knowing his control would shatter very soon if he didn’t move away.

  Reji did so, and stepped back so he could look at Kei properly. “Gods, you look horrible, little brother.”

  Kei had to grin at the honesty. “But you’re a feast for a starving man.” To Reji’s unspoken concern, he mouthed, ‘later’.

  Reji nodded and turned to the innkeeper. “Mil, this man’s staying with me.”

  “Right you are, Reji,” she said peaceably, not at all surprised. Kei assumed she knew Reji very well from his frequent visits to the city.

  Kei moved away from Reji and pointed to Tiko. “Reji, this is Captain Tiko. He’s brought me all the way from the southern range.”

  Tiko stepped up and shook Reji’s hand. “Glad to meet you. I can hand him off finally.”

  Kei growled. “Go sit in a thurl’s nest, you patronising sod.”

  Reji laughed. “Well, I see your temper’s been improved by your experiences. Tiko, is your business done with him? He looks ready to collapse.”

  “For now.” Tiko asked for a bit of paper on which he hurriedly scribbled something. “Kei, that’s my home address, and who to ask for at the barracks. Come there tomorrow morning and ask for me or this chap, and we’ll sort out funds for you.” He handed Kei the note and peered at him. “Will you be all right now, lad?” he asked quietly.

  “I’ll have to be,” Kei said bitterly, which made Reji look hard at him too. “Thank you, Tiko. I’ll see you again before I go, I promise.”

  “You do that. I won’t invite you to supper tonight since I think we both have our reunions, but I expect you to come in the next day or so or I’ll be looking for you, you hear?”

  “Yes, Tiko. Haven’t you got something better to do now?” Kei said in mock irritation at Tiko’s perpetual need to father him—or mother him.

  “Not right this minute,” he said with a grin. He made a sloppy salute at them. “See you later, both of you.”

  Another parting, Kei thought, the effort of maintaining a semi-cheerful face suddenly too much. “Reji, can we just go to your room now?” He’d have like a room of his own, but that would insult and upset Reji far more than the benefit Kei would derive. And he had truly missed his lover.

  “Of course,” Reji said kindly, hoisting one of his packs up onto his shoulders. “I’d like supper sent up later, Mil, I’ll let you know.”

  “As you like, Reji. Go on and take the lad upstairs before he falls down.”

  Kei hadn’t realised he looked so woeful that stray innkeepers would feel protective of him. He followed Reji up the narrow stairs and into the small room with the wide bed and not a lot of other furniture. Reji put Kei’s pack on the floor, and then pulled him gently into his arms. “I missed you. I’ve been worried sick,” he said, planting a kiss on Kei’s forehead.

  Even Reji’s controlled concern was too much and Kei squirmed away from his embrace. “Me too,” he whispered.

  Reji came and sat next to him, but carefully didn’t touch him again—the benefit of a gifted lover was that they took boundaries seriously and Reji knew when Kei didn’t want to be touched, he really didn’t want to be touched. “Was it truly appalling? Or are you just tired?”

  “Both...no, not all appalling...just...Rei-ki, I need some time alone, but I want you near too. Can you stand to just be with me and not touch me for a couple of hours?”

  “Whatever you need, little brother. Why don’t you take your boots off and lie down? I’ll lie beside you. I’ll listen too, if you want to talk.”

  It was what Kei needed right now, although he felt bad to use Reji this way. The bed was a little lumpy but far more comfortable than a bedroll, and as he lay on it, he realised how tired he was. Tiko had really been setting quite the pace and even though Kei was now fitter than he’d ever been, his body still demanded rest. Reji settled alongside him, looking into Kei’s eyes with love and worry. Kei reached over and took hold of the end of Reji’s braid, trying not to think of how another person used to hold his own hair thus.

  “Tell me,” Reji said quietly. “Tell me everything you can bear to tell me.”

  Reji was the one person Kei had never had to lie to, or hide anything from, to protect himself or the other person. Even though what he had to tell was so much worse than anything he’d ever shared with his lover before, and he wasn’t sure how Reji would react, the habit of total honesty was too ingrained to break. So he told him. Everything. Right from when Reji had ridden out of the village, to that morning when he had seen the most important person in his life ride out of it forever. By the time he was done, the room was completely dark. Reji hadn’t said a word, just taken hold of Kei’s hair as Kei was holding Reji’s braid, and listened patiently, without judging or being revolted.

  “Oh, little brother, you’ve been through a trial, haven’t you?” Reji murmured, brushing his hand across Kei’s cheek in a whisper-light touch. When Kei didn’t flinch, he dared to cup it more firmly, and lean closer to place a soft kiss on his forehead, before he moved back again. “And you think someone in the academy will have an answer?”

  Kei wiped his nose on his arm. “I hope so. It’s the only hope I have now. I knew Arman would have to go, I just...wanted it too much to push him away while he was still with me. Now the damage may be permanent for all I know.”

  “I doubt that, Keichichi. You’ve survived this far, there has to be a solution. Does it truly hurt to have me with you?”

  “No,” Kei admitted. “Not now—I was just a bit unbalanced when you turned up. The worst thing is...gods, Reji, I let myself be happy for a little while after Ai-Darbin and now it’s worse than it was, I think.”

  “And you don’t know why Arman can help, but no one else can? Are you sure I can’t?” he asked, tracing his finger gently across Kei’s forehead.

  “You don’t understand. Your hand feels nice, and I can feel...your love, your worry...and it’s comforting. But if Arman did that...you know what it’s like when you put chuo sap on a bruise and all of a sudden you can’t feel it any more? It’s just like that. You know the bruise is there, but you don’t care. Until the ointment stops working.”

  “Then it hurts worse than before,” Reji said. “Then we take you to the academy tomorrow—but tonight, you rest and get whatever peace you can from being with me. I’m sorry I can’t be the chuo sap on your soul, little brother.”

  Kei clutched at Reji’s shirt. “I love you. I just...don’t know how to fix this.”

  Reji closed his hand over Kei’s. “Don’t fret. We’ll find an answer together so you can come home. I won’t leave you again.”

  Kei sniffed and wiped his nose again. “You have to go back to Ai-Albon,” he muttered.

  “If I have to send the goods back with a trader going further south, I will. Whatever it takes, little brother. You’ve been on your own too long in this.” His thumb stroked over the back of Kei’s hand. “Will you reall
y not see this general again? Do you not want to?”

  “No...yes...Reji, if he can’t help them, he might have to be sent to Andon, or even back to the Prij, although they’ll hang him if he returns.... You didn’t see Lord Meki. Arman’s just a tool. He means nothing to them and once they get what they want from him, they’ll...I don’t know, pay him a pension and stick him in a house somewhere, or find him a make-work job, or whatever. I’ll be home long before that, I hope.”

  “So do I,” his lover said. “Look, let me go down and find our supper. There’s no bath on this floor but there’s a washroom. Why don’t you clean up while I get the food? You don’t need to do anything or go anywhere tonight. I’ve got you, Kei. Just let go.”

  All he could do was nod. Reji used a sprite to light the lamp so he could find some clean clothes and when Reji left, Kei went in search of the washroom. It was small and clean—cold water only, but in the warm humidity of the coastal plain, that was tolerable. He was glad they’d arrived in winter—Darshek in midsummer could be unbearably hot. All the houses here were designed for the heat, rather than for the cold as were those of the dry interior, but still there were days when all one could do was sit on a verandah and pant, waiting for the sun to go down and relief to come.

  By the time he had washed, he felt calmer. Talking to Reji had helped a good deal—more than anything had since he’d left Jena, other than Arman’s company, which wasn’t actually a help but a palliative. His twin aches remained though, and he couldn’t help but fret over Arman and what was happening to him. Tiko said he trusted Lord Meki, but Kei didn’t. Arman was used to dealing with politicians at a high level but he was a prisoner here. Surely they wouldn’t just discard him, or force him back to Kuprij? But perhaps Arman’s value to them was limited—the Darshianese refused to make war with other peoples, and war was all Arman knew.