“You can’t do this on your own,” Kei said quietly, taking his hand, looking at him with a worried expression.
“It’s a mess of my own making. I don’t want anyone else to suffer, and I would never forgive myself if Mekus or Kita got their hands on you. Please...don’t fight me on this,” he pleaded, using his eyes shamefully.
“You shouldn’t have to do this on your own.”
“I won’t be alone. My father and brother will support me.” He tilted Kei’s face for a kiss. “I owe you for that.”
“I’ll worry every moment you’re gone.”
“I know, and I regret that. Will you take some comfort from the fact that knowing you are safe will give me considerable peace?”
“For that reason and that reason alone, will I abide by your request. We need to get you ready for the trip. Misek?”
Misek raised his hand to make them stay silent. Arman realised he must be speaking to Gyo. They waited until he was done. “He’s going to go. But he hates me,” Misek said resignedly.
“He’ll survive,” Arman said with the certainty of a man who’d ordered others to do far worse things. This matter was badly timed, but he could hardly expect Karik to stew in Utuk because Arman wanted to work on the harbour redevelopment. “My lord, I need to pack and arrange my affairs.”
He looked at Lord Meki who shooed him away. “I can read your mind, and I can tell you I’ll be fine. Good thing you’re leaving Kei here to bully me.”
“I’ll be even stricter than I would have been before, I’m warning you, my lord,” Kei said with a tight smile. He turned to Arman. “We should go.”
“Give me a little time to sort out my desk and make some notes.” Arman bowed to the Ruler. “I’ll send you a full report from Utuk.”
“I’ll expect that. I’ll make sure your loved ones are safe. You’ll have to deal with this as a private citizen, but whatever help and support we, the Rulers, and the embassy can give you, you can depend on.”
“Thank you, my lord, but Karik’s best hope, ironically, is for me to firmly establish his credentials as a son of the Prij. Kei, Misek, please come to my office.”
He sorted his affairs out quickly—he habitually left his papers as if someone else might have to take over at a moment’s notice, a carry over from his army career when he faced death daily. All he had to do was finalise the minor things he had dealt with that day, and hand the notes to Lord Meki’s secretary, who took them away with a bow and best wishes for his enterprise. Then he went back to see the Ruler for a few last arrangements. One request he had to make was that his nomination as a Ruler be delayed until he returned. Lord Meki agreed immediately—bruiting about Arman’s importance to Darshian at this time could potentially harm them all. There would, he said, be plenty of time to sort that out when he returned, and then wished him luck for his journey.
After that, it was a tense twenty-minute walk back to the house. “What will you tell Jena and Reji?” Kei asked.
Arman turned to Misek. “You’re a father. I need your guidance.”
Misek considered. “They need to know,” he finally said. “Not knowing is the worst thing. But how you stop Reji storming to Utuk, I don’t know.”
“Leave that to me,” Kei said. “Arman, can they hurt you? Keep you prisoner? You’re technically a traitor.”
“Not officially. Mekus will make things unpleasant for me and as inconvenient as he can, but they won’t risk outright confrontation.” He stopped and turned to Kei. “This could take a while,” he murmured, pulling him close.
“I know. I know you will do what needs to be done, and I’ll wait for you. Karik is precious to me and those I love. I thank you for this.”
“Mekus won’t win this,” Arman said roughly. Part of him desperately wanted Kei with him, but the greater part of him wanted anyone remotely important to him as far away as possible from Utuk and all it represented. “Misek, when Gyo arrives, take him home. It could be a month or more before Karik arrives. I’ll get him home safely, you can promise Reji that.”
“As you wish. This entire venture has been ill-omened from the start. All we wanted was our boys to have a taste of the big wide world,” he said bitterly.
“A worthy motive, Misek. Things have simply been unfortunate—this boy playing a trick wasn’t anything we could have predicted.”
They walked the rest of the distance in silence. Pira was quickly informed of events, and hastened to help Arman prepare his pack. Kei undertook to find the papers he said he wanted. Misek kept out of the way, like the sensible man he was.
Arman finally shooed Pira out of their bedroom and dragged Kei down to sit on the bed. “Damn your expressive eyes,” he murmured, kissing the eyelids that briefly hid those all too powerful windows to his lover’s heart. “Do you hate me?”
“No. I’m worried sick, but you would expect me to be.”
“Kei, I need you to look after Meki. More than usual. He doesn’t need this on top of his other responsibilities. He’s not been taking it as easy as he promised.”
“I’ll be fierce. I might even have to be rude,” he said with the ghost of a grin.
Arman kissed him again. “You do that. He can handle it.” He stroked his hand down Kei’s braid. There were one or two bright silver threads among the dark brown, but it was still as silky and sleek as ever, as was Kei. “Do we have time to make love?”
“We’ll make time,” Kei said. “You realise this will be the first time we’ve been apart for more than a night in sixteen years?”
“Don’t remind me. I hope it will be the last.”
“Lord Peika wants you to go to Andon if you’re appointed Ruler,” Kei murmured, taking his earlobe gently between his teeth.
“Think about that when we’ve returned. I will bring him back, I swear.”
“I know. I never doubted it.”
Arman bore Kei down to the bed and kissed him gently as he unlaced his shirt and trousers. Kei’s arms went around his neck and Arman saw the unspoken needs in his lover’s eyes, for him not to go, to go, to take Kei with him—all warring, all being held under control by Kei’s intelligence, his rationality, but above all, by his love, the rock solid foundation of Arman’s life, the one thing he never doubted. The thing that made every sacrifice, every sorrow or regret, as light as feathers upon his soul.
As graceful at thirty-six as he had been at twenty, Kei shimmied out of his clothes, and by dint of long practice and innate skill, he managed to strip Arman almost before Arman had formed the idea of doing so. “I never know how you do that,” Arman said wryly, contemplating the clothes on the floor and his smiling, now stark naked lover beneath him. “You must use your gift.”
“No, it’s just amazing what someone who’s properly motivated can do.”
“Yes, I suppose it is,” Arman murmured, bending to kiss Kei again, at the same time, reaching for the pot of hand cream they kept by the bed for such things. Again, long practice made it easier to scoop some out one-handed, and to raise Kei’s leg onto his shoulder. “I’m sorry—may I be greedy? I want to have you, and have you now. I just—”
“Want to stake your claim?” Kei said lightly, but still with the same love and understanding in his eyes. “You never need to ask.”
His need was urgent, but his touch was gentle, for whatever Kei said, Arman could never take him or his pleasure for granted. He applied the cream, and his lover shuddered, arching his body and exposing his neck. Arman bit carefully at the graceful juncture of neck and body, accepting the submission as the gift it was.
Even with his need, he took his time. For him, lovemaking had always been less about his own pleasure than watching Kei lose himself in sensation. Knowing how deeply Kei felt things, experienced things, it was no small matter to make him forget himself for even a few moments, to make him writhe in abandoned delight, to gasp as Arman filled him and pleasured him, no longer the inexperienced man Kei had first bedded, but now one fully trained in the art of making love
to this exquisite man. Arman knew every single place on Kei’s body that made him tingle, every pulse point he could lick and tease carefully with lips and teeth, how to judge when Kei had become too sensitive to endure more nipple play, and when he needed more, tinged with a little delicate pain, to tip him over into gasping orgasm that made him clutch at Arman’s back to the point of leaving bruises. The joy he got from seeing that, feeling Kei’s passion, made his own climax almost unimportant, though his body welcomed the release from the tension it brought.
The hands that had been clawing at him moments before, now slid behind his neck and drew him down. “You needed that,” Kei said dryly. “Perhaps I should start coming over to the Ruler’s house at lunch to relieve your tension.”
“Any day I’m preparing to leave you for weeks, feel free to do so.” The sex had brought him only the slightest respite from his anxiety, and even though Kei would feel the return of that emotion and be made anxious in turn, there was nothing Arman could do about it. He could only let Kei hold him and wish there was some answer other than this. Of course, there wasn’t.
“Love, I know why you don’t want me to go with you, and I accept that. But are you so sure I wouldn’t give you more benefit than disadvantage?”
Kei was staring at him seriously and Arman knew this was no manipulation. They had worked as a team for a long time, separately but united in purpose and in love. He turned over the facts one more time, but regretfully came to the same conclusion. “I’m sorry, Kei. I can pretty much predict the kind of things that will happen to me. But what might happen to you....” He raised Kei’s hand and kissed it. “Even if it weren’t so risky, don’t dismiss the effect returning to Utuk might have on you. You only returned before for the very briefest of times. To spend weeks there.... And I really do need you here too. Misek needs you, Meki needs you. I’m sorry to be selfish.”
Kei sighed. “Don’t apologise for that, you nitwit. It’s we Darshianese who should apologise for putting you in this situation.”
Arman sat back. “You haven’t done that in a long time,” he said, feeling a little stung.
“What?”
“Distinguished between me and true Darshianese.”
Kei sat up, apology already in his expression. “No, I didn’t mean that...damn, I’m sorry, it’s just all the talk of dealing with the Prij. You’re one of us, you know you are. You’re going to be one of our Rulers soon.” He reached behind Arman’s head and tugged the heavy braid. “And this proves it. I didn’t mean it, truly.”
Arman knew he didn’t and accepted the apology. There would always be a distinction, however slight, in the minds of all who knew him, but why that should matter when the only distinction he cared to claim was that of being Kei’s lover, he didn’t know. “We should bathe and then go to supper.”
Kei laid his head on Arman’s shoulder. “Already?” he murmured. “Time slips away so fast.”
“Then it won’t be long before I return. And I will. Kita isn’t that stupid. She won’t risk a war with the Darshianese alliance over me, not even for her husband or her father-in-law. Even if she would, the rest of the senate would not. It’ll take a little while, but I’ll come home, I swear, and Karik will come back with me too. Mekus won’t want the boy for more than the ability to torment me—Karik’s stutter will disgust him, and that’s a good thing. Mayl won’t want someone like him near her either.”
“What a lovely pair,” Kei said, grimacing.
“Oh, indeed. Perfectly matched. Karik is loved and valued for many things they are too stupid to see, and what they do see, I hope will make them want to get rid of him as quickly as they can.”
“More fool them, then. I want that boy here. I’ve set my heart on him working for me.” He glared at Arman. “Darshian needs him and Kuprij won’t value him. Bring him home.”
“Yes, Master Kei,” Arman said, dropping a kiss on one smooth cheek. “But we should get moving.”
There was still time for another embrace, some more unhurried kisses. But then they really had to go.
Voyaging: 13
Karik held Gyo’s hand as he spoke to his father—Karik didn’t need to listen to the mental conversation to know how greatly it distressed his friend. Across from them, the ambassador watched with sympathy, but Karik’s own fate was sealed. It was confirmed when Gyo looked at Karik with stricken eyes as the link with his father was broken. “He says I have to go,” he said in a cracking voice. “Leave you behind, Karik.”
“Yes, you d-do. It’s all right.” He pulled Gyo close to him and felt his friend shaking. Gods, was there nothing about this situation that was not painful? Gyo faced with abandoning his best friend and to have to make the journey back alone? Karik to be handed over to Prijian custody in the morning, to wait for the gods knew what to help him? Arman was coming down—that was the only hope they had—but what if he couldn’t do anything? One thing for sure—however much Karik would appreciate Gyo’s presence, it would ease his conscience if his friend was safe home in Darshian. “Gyo, you n-need to help my p-parents. I wuh-want you to do that.”
“Karik’s right,” Yuko said quietly. “You can do nothing for him here that we can’t. But you can make sure his family and friends know the situation here. And to be blunt, the fewer children these people can take as hostage again, the happier I’ll be. My sister was part of the original group all those years ago. Don’t let your families go through that kind of pain, lad.”
“It’s wrong! Why can’t you just send us both back and be damned to these bastards?” Gyo shouted. “They can’t stop us.”
“They can and assuredly will,” Yuko said firmly. “Gyo—listen to me. If I refuse to hand Karik over, I risk this embassy being stormed. Even if the soldiers don’t come, the Prij will put the word out that we’re holding one of their children captive and trust me, you don’t want to see one of this city’s mobs in action. People will get hurt, even killed—and in the end, I‘ll still have to hand Karik over, just as Lord Meki has ordered.”
“But if you snuck us out—”
Yuko held his hand up. “No. We’re being watched to see we’re not going to do just that. Do you not realise the situation? The Prij government hate us being here—we represent their worst humiliation. They won’t risk open warfare, but any chance to discredit us, to have us removed by the Darshek Rulers, and they will. Karik is the sovereign’s consort’s stepbrother, and even if we don’t openly acknowledge it, that blasted captain has let the secret out. If we try and sneak him off the island, it will cause a huge ruckus. It might even be an excuse for war, and even though we are stronger, the Prij could still harm our people. They don’t even have to declare war officially—they can stir up the populace in ways the government can disavow. I’ve seen it before,” he added with a grim expression. “I beg you, Gyo—both of you. Trust us, trust the Rulers, and trust Arman. I know him—he’s tenacious, and he’s got Lord Meki on his side. You couldn’t have more effective supporters.”
“Gyo, you have to go.” Gyo stared at him with miserable eyes, and Karik forced himself to smile. “You s-said I needed to f-find out more about my f-family.”
“Not like this,” Gyo cried. “This is my fault!”
Yuko winced even as he chided Gyo gently. “Now, now, I know Karik doesn’t blame you, do you, Karik?”
“No. Gyo—c-can you be brave for me? I need that.”
Gyo’s eyes were still stark in his grief, but finally he nodded. Karik didn’t know how he kept back his own emotions—it was like on the boat, he supposed. He needed to be strong now, but once Gyo was gone, he would probably be a mess. “Y-Yuko, Gyo was very sick on the wuh-way down. Can s-someone look after him?”
Yuko seemed a little surprised, but then relieved at the request. “You know, that’s a perfectly good idea. I can send one of the soldiers from here and I’ll make sure Gyo gets the best treatment for the seasickness. He’ll be looked after just fine.”
“Th-thank you.” Gyo would probably
be all right on his own, but to have an older person in charge of him would make it easier—and Misek would worry less too.
“Then it’s agreed? Gyo, I won’t be handing Karik over without assurances that we can maintain contact with him, and I really do have every faith in Arman’s ability to sort this out. He’ll come to no harm, I swear on my honour.”
Gyo only nodded. It was left to Karik to ask what they were to do until Gyo had to leave. “You need to stay here, and I would suggest you both try and rest as much as you can. A carriage will be brought around to take Gyo to the docks in the morning. All you’ll need to do is get up, dress and eat some breakfast. I don’t expect it to be easy for you, lad, but you promised Karik you’d be brave. This is where it starts. Karik, we’re not expected at the palace until later that morning, so you and Gyo should say goodbye here. Will you both give me your word you won’t try to leave the embassy?”
Karik agreed, but he had to prod Gyo into saying ‘yes’ in a small voice. “Thank you, lads. Let me leave you alone now, but I live in the embassy, so if you want to talk, or ask anything, or need anything, don’t hesitate to ask, whatever the time. Would you like me to come back later this evening?”
Karik shook his head. “Wuh-we should sleep.”
“Yes, true. I’ll make sure you have some more food sent up, and breakfast will be ready before you leave, Gyo. I’ll have our healer come up shortly and talk to you about the seasickness, and the soldier who’ll be going with you, once I decide who that will be. After that, just try and relax, and not to fret.” He smiled sadly. “Easier to say than to do, naturally.” He stood. “I want you to know how very sorry I am, Karik. In my mind, there’s no question you’re one of us, and Senator Mekus is just stirring trouble by this claim. But we’ve beaten him before and we’ll beat him again. You just need to show these Prij how a real Darshianese conducts himself.”
Falling From the Tree (Darshian Tales #2) Page 19