Kei's Gift (116 page)

Out in the courtyard, the troops were assembled—thankfully, none of them looked poisoned. “I’m going to ride my jesig,” Blikus said. “Do you intend to bring everyone along in that outlandish fashion, Arman?”

Arman looked back at him coolly. “Yes, I rather think I do. Do you have a problem with that, my lord?”

“I have a problem with you, you filthy traitor. You’re an absolute disgrace, and the deaths of our men are on your hands!”

“My lord, those deaths occurred before I ever encountered the Darshianese again.”

“And now you’re helping those who killed them.”

“Yes. I am.”

The two men glared at each other, and Kei felt sick at the powerful loathing coming from Blikus, who suddenly turned to him. “This is
your
doing—you’ve put a spell on him, stolen his mind! He would never have done this of his own free will.”

Kei put his arm around Arman’s waist. “It is I who is under a spell, my lord,” he said calmly. “I’m as much a slave as I ever was, only this time, of love, not the Prij.”

Lord Meki cleared his throat loudly. “Lord Blikus, we’d like to return to the ship. If you object to my colleague’s presence, perhaps you could ride at the back, so the sight of him doesn’t offend you.”

“I’ll ride at the front, as is my duty and my position. I haven’t forgotten all that I am, just to fuck some pretty-arsed boy.”

“I’m sure. Although, I would suggest you try it before dismissing it,” Lord Meki said politely. Lord Peika hid a grin behind his hand. “But Arman’s personal habits are hardly important. What is important is that you are displaying a great deal of rudeness to the representatives of a sovereign nation and causing embarrassment to Her Serenity. Shall we end this unseemly discussion, or would you like me to take it up with her?”

Blikus’s lips thinned in anger and then shouted to his own men to mount up and get into position. “Don’t try that kind of feeble threat on me, Lord Meki. I’m not one of the senators to quake in my boots if you make a display of temper. I don’t give a damn if you’re offended, and neither does she. We just want you off our island. You’re a completely dishonourable race—you had the means to defeat us and yet you still stoop to subverting one of our finest officers.”

“I was trying to save Prijian lives, you damn fool!” Arman snapped. “Yes, they could have defeated you—and killed nearly everyone in Utuk, tearing the place apart looking for their people!”

“You’re assisting the enemy! What is wrong with you that you can’t see how wrong that is? How can you betray your honour, your family, the trust we all placed in you? It beggars belief that you—of all people,
you
, Arman—could do this. Your father, your brother, must be dying of shame. How do you expect them to show their faces in the senate after this?”

Arman tensed under Kei’s arm. “The honour of my father and brother, and of any other person, derives from their own actions, not mine. If the Prij had acted with honour, I would not have needed to take this step. If the hostages had been treated fairly, I would not have begun to question the justness of the war. And if the Darshianese had not been so determined to stop civilians on both sides from dying, you would not be Lord Commander, Blikus—you would just be dead. Gods, man, do you not realise what these people can do? The very palace we’re standing in could be hurled into the harbour in the blink of an eye. They could incinerate every living creature on Kuprij as easily as breathing. They didn’t need me to win this war, they needed me to win the peace. People are alive because of their mercy and for no other reason.”

“Better to be dead than dishonoured,” Blikus sneered.

“So you say. But it’s not a decision you have a right to make for everyone else in the Prijian nation. Dead is dead. There’s no honour in a grave. Better to live decently, and serve one’s fellows, than to die uselessly and let others die uselessly too.”

“You’ve lost your mind, Arman.”

“Maybe, but I’ve found my soul. Now, enough. You despise me and you despise the nation I serve. You’ve made that clear. In twenty years, when the Prij prosper from peace instead of war, maybe you’ll sing a new song. Until then, I’ve made my choice. I’m proud to be part of this peace, Blikus.”

“We’re proud to have you with us too, “ Lord Meki said. “We’re leaving, Lord Blikus. We don’t need an escort. If you come with us, keep your mouth shut. I’ve had enough of Prijian pomposity this night.”

Kei blinked. That was about the rudest thing he’d ever heard Lord Meki say.

Jera moved the Darshianese forward, and Blikus had no choice but mount his jesig and follow. By the time they’d reached the palace gates, a passable appearance of an escort had been formed. There weren’t any crowds this time—it had to be close to midnight, and most people would have long since gone to bed. Neris lit their way again and Jera carried everyone along, although at a notably faster pace than before. They were at the docks in twenty minutes or so. Blikus stood and pointedly waited for them to depart the shore before turning his troops around and marching them back up to the palace.

Arman was rigid with stress as Jera flew them over the harbour. “His opinion doesn’t matter,” Kei said, kissing his cheek in comfort.

“He’s not a bad man or a stupid one. His opinion does matter. And it hurts,” he added quietly.

“He’s wrong. Left to men like him, we would do nothing but fight wars.”

“He’s been my commander for nearly ten years, and a role model. His approval mattered. His hatred matters now.”

Kei had no answer to this. He suspected Arman’s reaction was bound up in what had happened with his father earlier, and Karus’s death. Some things Arman just needed time to work through himself.

As they landed on the ships, Neris set a huge ball of flame over the harbour, lighting it as bright as day. “That’ll let us see the bastards coming,” he said with satisfaction. He came to Arman. “That man was wrong.”

Jera joined him. “Yes, he was. You’re not like him at all, and you’re not a traitor. You’re our friend,” he said simply.

Kei could have kissed Jera for the words, and he sensed Arman’s sad heart lift ever so slightly. “You haven’t lost everything, or everyone. See?” he murmured.

“Yes, I do. I’d just like some fresh air before we turn in.”

“Want me to go below and wait?”

Arman looked at him, hesitated. “No,” he said finally. “But do you mind if I don’t talk for a while?”

“Whatever you want.”

Arman limped heavily over to a distant part of the rail. The Rulers looked about to approach him as the clansmen and women went down to the passenger deck, but Kei held his hand up. “No. He needs time to think.”

Lord Peika nodded. “We wanted to offer him our gratitude, and our regret at the treatment he received.”

“I’ll pass it on. My lord...you’ll make sure people know what he’s done, won’t you? He’s not a traitor to his people. He’s tried to behave with honour.”

“We know that, lad,” Lord Meki said. “He also knew how people would react, although facing the reality has probably been more unpleasant than anyone could have imagined. Don’t insult him by assuming he didn’t go into this with his eyes wide open. He knew the risk, he knew the cost. He did it anyway. That’s what makes his actions brave. Of course we’ll make sure people know this.”

“Thank you. I’d still appreciate you leaving him be. Do you need him tomorrow?”

Lord Meki looked at his fellow Ruler. “I think we still do. I’m sorry. The ceremony shouldn’t be a long one, and once it’s over, we’ll get him out of here. I won’t let him be subjected to any more nonsense like this evening. I’ll have Jera or Reis toss that Blikus chap into the ocean before he gets away with that again.”

“That chair business was a bit of spite too—I wonder who was behind it?” Lord Peika said.

“One of the senators, I wager,” Lord Meki said. “The sovereign knew nothing about it.”

Kei could imagine a couple of likely suspects. “True. May I bid you goodnight, my lords? Arman and I are very tired.”

“Of course. Get him to rest that damn leg of his.”

Kei bowed and waited for them to leave before going to where Arman was sitting on a hatch, looking back at Utuk. The light over the harbour was eerie—below it, daylight, above it, a golden reflection on the dense cloud cover which made it even more surreal. He wondered how many citizens were looking out their windows at the amazing sight. Even knowing what caused it, it was still wondrous.

“Mind if I sit?”

Arman shook his head. Kei sat next to him, not sure if Arman wanted physical contact or not, but his question was answered as Arman reached for his hand and held it in his lap. He didn’t look at Kei, or speak, so Kei just let him hold his hand as he stared out over the harbour.

“I always thought the war was a bad idea,” Arman said softly, after long minutes spent in silence. “I told Karus the Prij would regret it. But I had to do my duty. I wonder if all this could have been avoided if I’d been more outspoken at the start.”

“Would they have listened?”

“Probably not. But I should have tried. Like I should have tried to work out why my father was so cold to me. Like I should have stopped Mekus that day, or at least made sure you didn’t have to see it.” He freed Kei’s hand and put his head in his own. “So tired,” he murmured.

Kei put his hand on Arman’s neck and gave it a little massage—the muscles there were like rocks. “Lie back. Just on the hatch. Lie back—I’ve got you.”

Looking a little puzzled, Arman obeyed, and Kei made a pillow for his head with his arm. The air was warm and still, sticky almost—perhaps there would be rain later that night, but for now the cloudy skies held back. Kei untucked Arman’s shirt so he could put his hand over Arman’s heart. It was beating very fast. Too fast. He rolled a little and put a kiss on Arman’s new-shaven jaw. “People can see,” Arman murmured.

“So? They’ve seen you kissing me before. I notice Blikus thinks I have a pretty arse. Means he must have been looking, don’t you think?”

That made Arman smile just a little. “I disgust him.”

“So do I but he still thinks I’ve got a pretty arse. Your arse is pretty too. Bet he’s looked at that as well.”

“Thank you for that image. I managed eight years under his command and never once considered the man was interested in any of my body parts.”

“Glad to hear it,” he said, letting his hand drift over one of Arman’s nipples, and feeling his lover twitch a little.

Arman pushed his hand away. “Don’t.”

Kei stopped because he didn’t want Arman to be upset. He put his hand on the outside of the shirt. “Do you mind that people know you have a male lover?”

“No.”

“Then why do you care if people see me touching you?”

“Because I’m damn sick of people presuming to know my affairs and what’s in my mind. Gods, do you know what that’s like?”

“Yes, I do,” Kei said calmly. “But I’ll leave you alone if you want.”

He moved to get up, but found his hand caught by Arman who was looking at him with wide eyes. “Don’t...I didn’t mean...don’t leave me because I’ve angered you. Please.”

“I’m not,” he said, leaning down for a kiss. “I’m trying to give you what you want. I don’t want to hurt or embarrass you. I need to touch the people I care about, that’s all. I like to make them feel good.”

“I can’t...I’m not ashamed of you. To have you by my side, and claiming me...I feel like a god.”

“You just don’t want to have sex out in the open.”

Arman looked at him. “Not really.”

“All right. There’s more room here than on the bunk, even if it’s harder.”
And that’s just the hatch
. Lying next to Arman was doing all sorts of things to him and giving him ideas Arman clearly wasn’t ready for. “I’ll be good.”

“I doubt that,” Arman said with a trace of a smile. Kei leaned down and kissed him again—it felt strange without the beard, but it made Arman’s mouth even more luxurious to explore. Despite his reservations, Kei felt Arman’s desire springing into life, masking his sadness.

It wasn’t just his desire springing up either. “I could touch you very, very quietly,” Kei said softly, right under Arman’s ear, running his hand gently down Arman’s body, to come to rest over his groin. “I can be discreet when I want to be. I can even be...elegant.” He nibbled Arman’s earlobe and Arman exhaled sharply. “I could just sit here driving you quietly, discreetly and elegantly mad and all the sailors would think we’re just sitting here talking. Would you like that?” He took advantage of the beard’s removal to lick along Arman’s long, square jaw.

“You talk too damn much,” Arman said, dragging him close for an almost savage kiss. “You already drive me mad. I want to mope and instead you’re making me wild with need.”

Kei grinned. “We damn Darshianese, we just don’t follow the rules. But if you don’t want me to talk, I’ve got a better use for my mouth.”

He tugged at the lacings of Arman’s trousers. Arman grabbed his wrist. “You would really do that here?”

“Why not? No one’s looking. It’s not causing offence or inconvenience.”

But Arman still gripped his wrist and looked at him strangely. “No one thinks this is wrong?”