Kei's Gift (13 page)

Kei picked up the medical supplies and they headed to the urs beasts pens. There was a bewildering level of activity, and everywhere voices were raised, in anger, in grief. At least the chosen travellers were assembling, and the emotions of the families left behind, while deeply troubled, weren’t excessive. He was confident there wouldn’t be any wild or hysterical scenes. After the first shock, people had accepted the plan’s necessity.

Reji was too busy to talk, merely directing him to the beast on to which the medical supplies should be packed, and how. Kei had often helped his lover with preparing for his journeys, and so could efficiently and quickly stow the supplies before pitching in to help load the other animals. Much of the food which had been assembled for the feast that evening, was now going into the wagons to feed those who had to travel over six hundred miles before they reached safety. He tried not to think all the things that could happen to Reji or Myka or Banji in that time. It never did any good to dwell on the worst.

At last, Reji announced he was ready. Fedor shouted for the travellers to come forward and be marked off, so Reji and Kei could check they were prepared and fit. No one was missing. No one had to be rejected. Everyone was near tears or actually crying. Kei felt almost ready to pass out from the overload of reflected emotion, but he had to force himself to be strong until the travellers left.

Fedor called for silence. “Clan Albon, today is a dark one, make no mistake. We owe a debt of gratitude to Duka for taking a great risk to come and warn us, and to Reji for agreeing to shepherd our people to safety. Those who go, those who stay, all have a heavy burden to bear—let’s do so bravely. Reji, go with our thanks, return to our joy.”

“Yes, Fedor. I won’t fail the clan.”

“Father, I won’t fail the clan either.” Myka came and knelt before Fedor. “And I am truly sorry for my words earlier,” she said in a quiet voice that only Fedor and Kei could hear.

Fedor laid his hand on her head. “My sister’s child, my daughter, my heart’s heavy, but I’m proud of you.” He urged her to stand, so he could kiss her cheek. “Erte watches over you, Myka. Erte and Keiji both watch over you.” He embraced her briefly, then turned her towards Kei. “Say your farewells. Everyone, a few moments, no more.”

Kei went to her side and hugged her. “You know I’ll miss you every moment of every day, sister mine.”

“And I you, brother mine. Please don’t die.”

Kei laughed, but it felt more like crying. “I will do my very best,” he said gravely. They clung together for a moment or two, but he had other farewells he had to make. “I’ll see you soon. Before the year is out.”

She pushed him away. “Go talk to Banji and Reji.” She walked away before he could call her back.

Reji watched him, a grim set to his mouth. Kei was suddenly unsure he was welcome, but then, in a few swift strides, Reji was with him and crushed him close. “Every instinct I have is screaming at me to drag you away. This is so wrong, I don’t know what to say.”

Kei had no response to this, so he let his lips do something else but talk. There were tears in Reji’s eyes now—hells, in his own too. “Don’t damn well die,” Reji said tightly. “Don’t get hurt, and for the gods’ sake, don’t draw attention to yourself.”

“I will do my best. You too, Rei-ki.”

Reji held him almost painfully close, and then shoved him away. “Enough. I’ll never go if I hold you a moment longer. Be here when I get back, little brother, or I’ll be damn angry with you.”

Kei saluted shakily. “Aye. Now go.”

For a few moments, he was abandoned, surrounded by weeping families all caught up in their own pain, but then his name was called, and Banji was there, grabbing his shoulders and shaking him. “You—you’re making me go.” Banji was crying, anger and grief warring in his eyes. “Why? My family are here. Damn you, Kei!”

“Your family’s there too, and your future. I need you to look after my sister, you urs-witted fool, and
your
damn sister. You have to look after all the sisters and sons and brothers and daughters! They need you, they need Myka, they need Reji. Gods damn you.” He grabbed Banji and hugged him fiercely. “Please don’t hate me.”

Battered too long by too many strong emotions from all sides, Kei’s control over his gift at last started to shatter despite his desperate efforts to maintain it, and for a few moments, he couldn’t tell where his own feelings stopped, and those of the angry, worried people around him started. His vision sparkled and his legs felt weak, like he was about to faint.

Banji realised something was wrong. He dragged Kei away from the main crowd, and made him sit down against a wall, crouching next to him, a hand on his shoulder. “Damn fool,” Banji said, stroking his face. “Won’t you ever learn not to take everything on yourself?”

“I don’t...don’t have any choice,” Kei said, his voice breaking. People didn’t understand soul-touchers any more than they did mind-movers. “Oh, gods, just go, and leave me be. I can’t bear it any more. It hurts so much.”

He rested his face on his folded arms, wishing the travellers would go before he disgraced himself further. He felt Banji’s arm around his shoulders. “There’s only a moment or two,” Banji whispered. “I’m sorry. I don’t hate you. I’ll look after Myka, I swear. We will come home to you.”

“Yes,” Kei whispered. “Gods, Banji-ki.”

Being physically distant from the others helped a little. Banji let him rest for a short moment, but then made him stand. “You’ll worry Myka. Be brave just a little longer, my friend, and then go to Misek. He will look after you. Meis and Rin will care for you as their own. I have their word on it.”

Kei wiped his nose on his arm. “You’ve had me adopted again?” he said with a forced grin. Banji’s face was a blurry, wavering thing in front of him. “Isn’t once enough?”

“Obviously not. They’re calling me. I have to go.” Banji pulled him forward and kissed his forehead. “Be well, Kei.”

“And you, my friend.”

Banji slipped away. The roars of the urs beasts drowned out the sounds of crying and lamenting. Kei slumped to his knees again. The emotional overload had seared him to the point where he only felt numb, physically and mentally. He didn’t even watch the caravan head up the street, or try to catch a last glimpse of his sister or his friends. He couldn’t stand one more blow this day.

Strong arms pulled him up, and then a weathered, kind face peered at him.

“Un...Uncle Fedor. I’m sorry....”

Fedor’s hands were all that held him up. “Come with me, lad. Now is no time to be alone. You’ll stay with us tonight, we’ll drink to our ancestors, and then you can rest. You have suffered the most of any of us today, Kei. I’m sorry.”

It was too much, finally. His uncle, now his father, held him as, overwhelmed and heartsick, he wept for those he loved and feared he would never see again.

It was a tense, unhappy three weeks. The village which had once rung with the calls of children playing, of men and women engaged in work for the good of all, was now a quiet, sullen place. Children stayed inside, their parents afraid to lose sight of them. Husbands and wives argued, and wept for offspring now sent away, perhaps forever. Kei, who had lost all those he could talk to easily about such matters, withdrew into himself, spending most of each day on his own, sitting by the waterhole and gnawing on his worries when he wasn’t occupied making up drugs and distilling nitre weed and pijn. His clansmen’s emotions were like acid on his soul, and when he felt so raw, so full of grief and pain, he couldn’t bear more than a few minutes in anyone else’s company before he was forced to seek solitude. His aunt, Sira, and Meis took it in turns to feed him and offer him a place to sleep, but most nights, he went back to his own, lonely bed that still smelled a little of his and Reji’s lovemaking, and cried a little before he finally slept. The nights were full of anxious dreams.

Duka stayed with them two more nights to let her hard-worked urs beast recover before she headed back to Ai-Tuek at speed, and so could tell them the grim news that someone had been killed by the Prij in Ai-Darbin. It lent weight to the decision to offer no resistance, but it was a very cold comfort.

Every few days brought a brief visit from escaping villagers, bringing news, seeking news, taking some supplies, and leaving behind people coming close to breaking under the strain. Those of Ai-Tuek arrived the day Duka was due to return home—some of her people begged her to go with them, but she was determined, she said, to stand with the village. Besides, they needed their mind-speaker.

The travellers from Ai-Darbin arrived four days later, and they heard more about the killing. A young boy, cut down without trial or mercy in front of his parents, for the crime of trying to fight back against the invaders, as if this wasn’t the most natural reaction of any person to their home being threatened. The name wasn’t one Kei knew, so at least it wasn’t one of Reji’s close kin, but it still made his blood run cold to hear the tale. At least all the villages save Ai-Rutej had had time to send people away. They carried the hopes of so many, these tired, strained young men and women, too young really for the burden. Kei treated the refugees for burns, scrapes, blisters, and, in a couple of cases, sprained limbs and cracked ribs from falls. Otherwise, they were in good health, and despite being unutterably weary from the journey—already weeks long for some—the determination to continue burned bright. As well it might, Kei reflected sourly.
They
weren’t sitting decoys, awaiting an uncertain fate.

So in a way it was a relief to see the distant clouds of dust that heralded the arrival of the army. Everyone had been carefully schooled how to react, how to behave, the children drilled remorselessly so they didn’t let the slightest hint slip that all the villagers were in fact not present. The hostage list had been prepared in advance, although Fedor wasn’t sure the Prij would let them choose, not after what happened in Ai-Darbin. Kei was certain to be chosen. They were taking the oldest child of the clan head in every village, or the oldest niece or nephew where there was no child of the right age. In Ai-Albon, that meant him, unless they allowed Fedor’s fifteen-year-old son, Lori, to go in his place—unthinkable to Kei and to everyone else.

Those named on the hostage list were to be carefully stationed at the front of the assembly, the better to catch the eye of the Prij commanders. They had done absolutely all they could do to minimise the harm to the village and the clan. All they could do now was wait.

They heard the army long before they saw them. The noise was terrifying, like rolling thunder, a cacophony of drums and horns which battered one down. It was easy to seem frightened and overawed when the mass of urs beasts lumbered towards them. It wasn’t a pretense at all for Kei. The sun glittered off hundreds of chest plates and spearheads, and angry-looking banners fluttered in the breeze. The villagers waited in the square, Fedor at their head. No one said a word, not even the children. Misek stood at Kei’s back, his hand on Kei’s shoulder, a silent comfort as much as any could be.

At last the drums and horns stopped and several men on urs beasts came forward to the head of the massed soldiers. Two were clearly high ranking, possibly the leaders, dressed in brilliant armour from head to foot, high plumes of feathers on their helmets making them tall as giants. Kei couldn’t see their faces, but he got the strongest impression of deep hatred from one of them. Hatred and pain, powerful and raw enough to make him feel sick. A lesser ranking officer rode to the front, and made a speech in oddly accented Darshianese.

“People of the village of Albon, it has pleased Her Serenity, the gracious Kita Ruj Kemi, beloved of Lord Niko, to take you and your property under the protection of the empire of the Prij. Hence forth, all goods and products of this village belong to the empire and you will obey the laws and edicts of Kuprij. You will supply as evidence of good faith, ten people between the ages of fifteen and twenty-five who are in fair health and body. These will be kept in the gracious custody of Her Serenity as a bond for your continued co-operation. Her Serenity leaves for your protection a cadre of soldiers who will guide your relations with the Empire and ensure cooperation. If any soldier is harmed, one of your people will be maimed in like kind. If any soldier is killed, all your people in custody will be executed as an example to all and a further ten removed. If the crime is repeated, your village will be destroyed and every occupant taken into slavery and kept enslaved to the fourth generation.”

The man rolled up the paper from which he read, and moved back. One of the senior officers rode forward a little. “Let the clan head come forward.” This man spoke far better Darshianese, but his voice dripped with scorn. He was the one radiating the hostility.

Fedor stepped out. “I am clan head. Fedor of Ai-Albon. Who am I addressing?”

“I am Sei General Arman of the Prij, co-commander of this army. Fedor of Ai-Albon, you have to the slow count of one hundred to choose ten hostages. After that, we shall choose for you. Your oldest child must be among the ten. If you have none old enough, choose a child of your nearest kin. Begin.”

Fedor nodded, and as a drum tapped out the count, he swiftly walked along the front of the gathered crowd, making a slight show of having to decide. Kei couldn’t help cringing a little as his uncle’s hand tapped his shoulder, for all he was so well warned.