Kei's Gift (122 page)

“Aye, that you have. But don’t fear that. It’s no bad thing to have different experiences.” He hefted another sack. “You crave stability because of losing your parents. That doesn’t mean stability necessarily comes from lack of change.”

“Huh?”

“Don’t be threatened by new challenges, is all I mean. You don’t have to lose out, just because you meet them.”

“You’re being unusually cryptic, Rei-ki.”

“You’re being unusually dense. Never mind, little brother. Where in hells are Gonji and Vikis? We’ve still got a lot to do.”

Reji clearly didn’t want to pursue it, and despite his confusion, Kei let it drop. There was more than enough to worry about without it.

The departure the following morning was surprisingly low-key with only the former hostages turning up to bid tearful farewells to their fellows. Jena cried the whole time, and was quiet and sad for most of that day and the next, riding next to Reji with Karik in her arms, and leaning on Reji much of the time. Kei was glad she was getting some comfort that way.

He and Arman took turns driving the wagons, but they both preferred to ride unhitched beasts when they could. Those who liked to ride were given the chance to as much as possible—no one had to walk this time, and therefore the return was taking less time than when they had been forced away from the villages. At night, there was time and energy to talk, unlike before, and leisure too, to walk around, to escape one’s comrades and have some privacy. Most of them had had almost no privacy at all in the entire time since they’d left their villages. It was one reason Reji and Kei had insisted on tents, and more wagons than were strictly necessary, and rest stops in the villages they passed, to let people adjust back to some semblance of normal life.

One thing that had surprised Kei and Reji was how much the hostages wanted to talk to Arman, once they had got over their reticence. There had been anger, and that was expected. But most of them were just trying to make sense of the whole experience. Why had they been taken, why had the war happened, why did the Prij hate them? In that respect, they were very fortunate to have Arman and not some other Prij to question, for these were things he and Kei had discussed at length over their long friendship. More than that, he was unusually open-minded, and had given these matters some thought even before the war. Vikis also became involved, and his pleasant, honest manner was much appreciated.

Not all the discussions were friendly, or civil. On a couple of nights, things had got very loud and angry, and people had stormed off, other left sitting in tears. Arman hadn’t walked away, and he’d sat as long as anyone wanted to talk to him. But when he’d returned to Kei’s arms, in the privacy of their tent, he’d wept a little, for his own regrets, and sorrow for what he had been responsible for.

They’d planned to skirt right around Ai-Vinri to avoid putting pressure on the village. Therefore it was something of a shock to find people from that village blocking their path, a good two or three miles out of Ai-Vinri. Kei and Arman were outriders that day, flanking Reji’s wagon, which as always, was the lead vehicle. “Ho! Welcome, friends,” Reji said cheerfully. “May we serve you?”

Two of the beast riders were former hostages, Kei realised. “Hello, Gyu. Did everyone get back safely?”

“Yes, they did, Kei, thank you. Reji, my clan head wanted me to invite the Darshianese among you to the village tonight.” He looked at Arman. “The ban remains—but you can camp on the outskirts, and he will permit food and supplies to be brought to you.”

“Why?” Arman asked. “Fejsik has no reason to bend his own decree. Not on my account.”

“No, he doesn’t. But he offers this as acknowledgment of your role in getting us back, and in thanks for ending the war.”

Reji spoke up. “Gyu, as you can see we still have Jena and the child with us, and Vikis and Kesa as well. Will supplies be provided for them as well?”

“Why do you...oh, never mind. I’m sure they will. Do you accept the invitation?”

“Kei?” Reji asked, turning to him.

“I think it’s a gracious gesture. Thank you, Gyu.”

Gyu’s grim expression lifted. “I’m sorry we can’t have Arman in, but it’s for our families as much as anything. People are still very raw, but Fejsik wants the healing to start too, for himself as well as the rest of us.”

Arman bowed his head. “He’s being more generous than anyone would expect of him. No need to apologise.”

“I’ll stay with Arman and the others,” Kei said. “Reji, I presume you’ll come back to the camp?”

“Of course. Gyu, show us where you want the camp and then I’ll take the wagons in.”

The chosen campsite was pleasant, providing plentiful feed and clean water, and staying there was no hardship to any of them as they’d been planning to camp that night anyway. Reji came back with two beasts, bearing food and tents for all of them.

“That was unexpected, to say the least,” he said as Kei helped him unload. “That Ai-Rutej should bear such a grudge, and yet this village with its grief....”

“Fejsik is a good, decent man. Myri was a lovely girl.” Kei felt his chest getting tight, remembering her...remembering.... He forced himself to be calm. “But perhaps he doesn’t want to offer hate in her spirit’s name.”

“Still, a generous gesture,” Arman said. “I should have done more,” he added quietly. “Damn it, I really wish I’d run Mekus through that day.”

“And then you would be dead also, as would all of us be, probably,” Kei said. “You share responsibility, it’s not yours alone.”

“Tell that to the bereaved families,” he snapped, limping off.

Reji stared off after Arman. “I never realised.... Kei, are you all right? You look a little upset.”

Kei shook his head. “I can’t help—” His throat closed up. “Excuse me,” he managed to say. “I need to speak to Jena.”

He found her at the end of the camp, sitting in the shadows, and like him, she was close to tears. “Hold me, Kei.” Which he did for a long time, their privacy respected by the others. Reji couldn’t understand. Not even Arman could, not completely. Only with Jena could Kei share his memories, of the others and of that day, and how it felt to be helpless as friends died, right there in front of them.

Arman joined them after an hour or so, bringing over food neither of them wanted, but ate anyway because it had been a long day and it would be a long one to follow. He didn’t say a word, but took their hands in his, letting them feel his sorrow, and his sympathy. It was the best thing he could have done.

But it still hurt, and probably always would—a permanent scar, marking the hostages as different from their fellows for the rest of their lives. It was a distinction Kei would gladly have foregone.

Arman was glad when they left Ai-Darbin. Not that they’d encountered any hostility—the bereaved parents of Arman’s victim had decided to leave the village altogether and move to a farm some fifteen miles outside it, to help Jik’s ailing uncle work his property. The rest of the villagers were currently collectively working the farm Jik and Meri had abandoned, but were hoping to recruit people from elsewhere to live permanently in the village and manage the fields. Seya had even suggested to Kei that he and Arman might consider it, which Kei rejected politely. “My village needs me. But as soon as I’ve recovered, Arman will be free to return for the six months. That will help a little.”

She’d agreed, looking a little disappointed but no more than that. She’d bid them a warm farewell, and said she looked forward to Arman’s return. Arman knew she was sincere, and wished he could have been as warm in his response.

No, he’d had nothing to complain about in his treatment, but it was a reminder of pain, and Karus’s loss so recently made the older memory of Loke’s death even harder to bear. When he returned to carry out his sentence, he hoped he would be less raw, but for now, he just wanted to get away from it all.

Now they were down to twenty returnees, and people were settling down a little. The conversations around the camp-fires at night were less fraught, and less of a trial for Arman, and though it was cowardly of him to be grateful to no longer have to explain over and over about the war, he was grateful none the less.

Everyone had finally reached a rhythm on the journey. Reji and Jena were getting along well, and Kesa’s spirits improved every day. Vikis and Reji had struck up a firm friendship, although the trader was so amiable, it was hard to imagine him not being friends with almost everyone he met. Vikis spoke hopefully of setting up a wainwright’s workshop in Kei’s village, and Arman thought this might be something in which he himself could usefully occupy himself. He needed a trade other than killing, since he doubted that was much in demand in Ai-Albon.

The stop at Ai-Tuek passed without incident other than Karik developing a short-lived fever, and Arman having the duty of explaining the terms of compensation to a clan head furious over the treatment of two of his clan’s women. Not personally angry with Arman, it had to be said, but angry nonetheless. Arman sympathised with him, and offered his apologies for his involvement in the war. Rather to his surprise, the man appreciated it.

Arman never knew what to expect from these people any more. The reactions to him across Darshian had varied enormously, and despite the occasional mean-spiritedness, the generosity of the Darshianese over the whole business constantly took him aback. How much of it was Kei’s very obvious claiming of him as his lover, how much due to Arman’s remorse, and how much because of the essentially peaceful, rational nature of the race, he had no idea, and nor did Kei.

Then there were only the ten people from Ai-Albon to return to their homes, and the Prij who sought acceptance with them. To say Kei was nervous was a complete understatement, and the normally polite and kind healer became someone they all approached with caution, lest he bite their heads off. Arman was worried—Reji wasn’t.

“He was just the same when he was a boy, you know. He was always trying to smuggle animals and baby birds into the house. Erte or Keiji always found them and got rid of the damn things because of the smell and the nuisance—he’d mope for days, but he still always hoped they’d let him keep a krak-krak. The fact the bastards will take your finger off given half a chance didn’t put him off, nor did Erte’s scolding.”

“So I’m another pet Fedor will have to scold him over.” Jena, listening as she bottle-fed Karik, just grinned at him when Arman said that.

“Well, there’s more than one pet this time,” Reji drawled. “It’ll be fine, you’ll see. They already had you there once when they had every reason to hate you, and you survived. Now you’re coming back with their darling boy, and a wainwright and a fully trained healer. You’ll slip in before they notice.”

That wasn’t how he wanted to be accepted by the village, but as Kei was over by the waterhole, scowling fiercely at it as if it had done him some personal harm, he didn’t want to risk a fight with him to talk about it. What would happen if Fedor refused him asylum didn’t bear thinking about.

Now they were down to two wagons and a cart for the four jombekers, they only took five and a half days to get from Ai-Tuek to Ai-Albon. Thanks to Jena, the village had plenty of warning of their arrival, and so there was a huge turnout of people at the edge of the village, cheering and waving as their group approached. The former hostages dismounted or climbed out of the wagons, and then people were running towards them, crying with happiness. It was a scene of joyful chaos, but curiously Kei kept apart from it all, hanging back on his beast, staying with Reji and Arman.

Of course he could only do that until Myka spotted him, and when Kei saw her running towards him, he climbed down quickly enough. “Kei! You bastard, running off again!”

He swung her around in unmistakeable joy at seeing her again. Then she looked up and saw Arman. “Oh! Where’s the beard?”

That wasn’t the question he’d expected. “Long story,” he said briefly, before getting off his beast. He wasn’t sure how much Myka knew about Kei and him, and wasn’t going to be the one to break the news. But then she called to Reji, who climbed down and swooped her into his arms. Kei gave Arman a slightly rueful look, but said nothing.

Unsure exactly how this was going to play out, Arman let Reji and Kei be his guide, and for now, they seemed in no hurry to dive into the mass of people milling around the returned hostages.

“Arman?”

Arman turned and saw Vikis looking out the front of the wagon. “Come down, I think it’s safe. No one’s thrown anything yet.”

Vikis raised an eyebrow, but shortly after, he, Kesa and Jena walked around from the back of the vehicle. “Now what?” Vikis muttered.

Kei heard him, and pulled his sister away from Reji. “Myka, I’d like you to meet some friends of mine. This is Jena, formerly of Ai-Rutej, a healer, and her adopted son, Karik.”

Jena held out her hand, and Myka shook it hesitantly. “I’ve heard so much about you, Myka.” Myka smiled back politely, but then looked at her brother for an explanation which was, as yet, unforthcoming.

“And this is Vikis and Kesa from Utuk.”

Myka ignored Vikis’s hand. “Kei? What’s going on?”

“Kei! Welcome back...who in hells are all these people!”

Fedor and Sira had extracted themselves from the crowd, and Fedor bore down on them with a deep frown. Kei quailed a little. Arman would have taken his hand, but this had to be handled by Kei if it were to be handled at all.