Kei's Gift (29 page)

“Thank you, my lord. May I ask, what does ‘gidu’ mean?”

“‘
Learned’. It’s often used by physicians of one another as a courtesy, but when Karus uses it, he’s paying you a remarkable compliment.”

“Oh.” Kei was silent for a few moments, and Arman suspected he might be blushing, as well he might. Praise like that from Karus actually meant something. “He should really call Jena that. He’s in good hands with her—she’ll care for him very well.”

“Until she goes home, of course,” Arman said neutrally.

“My lord?”

“Have you forgotten? This isn’t going to go on forever—one day, one day very soon I hope in fact, the siege at Darshek will succeed and you and your friends will be free to return to your villages. It’s what you’re longing for, isn’t it?”

“Yes. Yes of course it is, my lord.” They walked in silence for several minutes, but then Kei spoke again. “It feels odd—to have spent so much time here, to have learned of your ways and your language, and then I’ll never use it again, I suppose, nor ever return to Kuprij.”

Arman was curious as to where Kei was going with this. “After your experiences, I would wonder you would ever want to lay eyes on another Prij as long as you lived. Even I admit you’ve not been treated particularly well, not at any point.”

“No, my lord, we haven’t. Yet a man like Karus is something special, someone to treasure having met.”

“But he’s the only one, surely.”

“No, my lord.”

That surprised Arman, he had to admit. “Is that so? Well, when Darshek falls, the empire will be united. There might be opportunities for you to come back to Kuprij if you’re so inclined. I doubt I would feel that way in your shoes, but then I’m not you.”

He sensed Kei’s surprise at his cold tone, but it was time for a little restoration of the proper balance in this relationship. Kei could satisfy his natural desire for friendship and intellectual stimulation with Karus. Arman didn’t need to be anyone’s friend. It hurt, a little, to push a congenial soul away, but they were
enemies
. A couple of days of necessary relaxation of the rules didn’t change this fact.

Kei didn’t speak again until they reached the house, the darkness hiding whatever his expression may have told Arman of his thoughts, but when Arman reached his rooms and lit the lamp, he saw some of the silence had to be caused by pure tiredness. “You overdid it today, Kei. I warned you not to.”

“Yes, my lord. It was just sitting, I swear to you, and Jena found me a place to rest for a couple of hours.... It’s been a while since I had to work so hard intellectually for so long.” But then he smiled. “It’s good for me.”

“Indeed,” Arman said, sorting through the letters on his desk, and not looking at Kei. His servant fell silent again, and when the meal arrived, he ate without talking at all. He managed more food this time. Anything which helped the man recover more quickly was good, so he was pleased.

He left Kei to bathe on his own while he checked some records in the library, and when he returned, Kei was dressed again and sitting on his pallet. The waiting footman took the dirty water away, and Arman could then bathe quickly and have the water and the trays removed. “You should turn in.”

“Yes, my lord.” Kei shifted as if he was about to lie down. “My lord, have I offended you in some manner?”

“No. I would tell you if you had.”

“Oh. Only, you keep grimacing—does your head hurt?”

Arman blinked in surprise—that had been the last thing he expected. He’d thought to hear a petulant complaint about being ignored. “Yes,” he admitted. “It does.”

“I can do something about it, if you like.”

Kei was being scrupulously polite, and his eyes were downcast. Hard to know what was going on in that curious mind. “Another ointment, perhaps made from caterpillar spit, or some such?”

Kei smiled a little. “No, my lord, just a neck massage.”

“You expect me to let a Darshianese get their hands anywhere near my neck? I think
not
.”

Kei looked up in shock. He seemed about to speak, but then he shook his head and turned, clearly giving up on the idea. Which, perversely, though it was exactly what Arman wanted, annoyed him. “Can you really cure headaches this way?”

Kei turned back to him. “Not all of them, my lord. It depends on the cause. It’s good for those caused by overwork or strain. If there is an underlying illness, it’s not very effective.”

Despite himself, despite his resolution, Arman was curious, and his headache was indeed very bad. It had grown worse steadily since they had returned to the house, although he had not actually been doing any serious reading. “You may try. If you kill me, remember there won’t be anyone to keep Mykis away from you.”

It was only intended as a joke. Arman honestly didn’t believe Kei would lift a finger to harm him if he had not attacked Mykis with far more provocation. But as Kei rose, his expression was solemn. “I’ve told you, my lord. I don’t kill. I’ve never killed anyone, I never wish to. I serve my patients by easing illness and pain.”

“All right, don’t get upset.”

But the man persisted, still speaking quietly, his dark eyes intense with his emotions. “My lord, I apologise, but to me, it’s not a joking matter. You called me a murderer when you first spoke to me. I couldn’t—I could never.... To kill someone...it’s sickening.” His voice was low, but the passion behind the words was clear enough.

It infuriated Arman to be held to account this way. “
I’ve
killed, Kei. I’ve killed your people. I would do so again, if ordered to, and gladly. Do you hate me for that? Do
I
make you sick? Do you want to put your hands around my neck now and avenge your kin, the way I avenged.... Soldiers
kill
. It’s my
job
. Do you think me evil, or cursed?”

Why was he debating this with the man, when he should just order him to shut up? Why did his opinion matter in the least to Arman? His head throbbed even harder—that and his rising anger made his next words harsh. “You have no answer for me then? You seem to have an opinion on everything, but none on this?”

Kei wrapped his arms around himself, his face miserable. “Whatever I say will anger you, my lord.”

“That’s not stopped you opening your mouth and expressing whatever impertinent thought pops into your head before, so come on, I want to know. Do I make you sick? Am I condemned in your eyes for my crimes?”

Kei shook his head and walked closer to Arman. “Let me treat your headache and then I’ll answer you, because your pain is making you irritable.”

Arman nearly threw a paperweight at him for his impudence, before realising that would exactly prove his point. “You go too far. You test my limited tolerance and you exceed your licence. Do you understand me?”

“Yes, my lord,” he answered, as meekly as Arman could have wished, but that enraged him too.

“If your hands slip, if I suspect for a second you are trying to do me harm, you will die, do you understand? I can kill without my sword, don’t imagine I can’t.”

“I don’t, my lord.” Hesitantly, Kei walked behind him. Arman tensed up immediately even though Kei would be hard pressed to squash the life out of a hisk in his present condition, but as he felt cool, slightly trembling hands on the back of his neck, he forced himself to calm down. Let this farce be over, he could set a punishment for the man, and then he could stop making a damn fool of himself, losing his temper and shouting at a servant over moral issues which weren’t his or any other Darshianese’s concern.

A firm pressure at the base of his neck, and despite himself, he sighed. Incredibly, some of the pain had dissipated already. He let his head fall forward, and Kei’s fingers dug carefully but firmly into his scalp. Gods...he’d had massages before, but nothing like this, ever. It really felt marvellous, his headache, the pain, and his anger with it, seeping away and leaving nothing but pure relaxation and calmness in their wake.

He was shocked to find he was practically falling asleep, but when he lifted his head, Kei had already stepped away, looking at him apprehensively. “Does...does it feel better, my lord?”

“Yes, it does. Thank you.” Kei nodded, but clearly didn’t want to risk his wrath by speaking again. Now his temper had calmed, Arman was deeply ashamed of himself. Kei had only wanted to help him and be kind, but as payment Arman had behaved no better than Mykis, for all he’d used only words, threats rather than actual violence. The effect on Kei had been exactly the same—the fearful looks, the way his hands were shaking. “Will you sit? For a moment? I’m not angry, I promise you.”

Kei stared for a moment, and then moved hesitantly to the chair Arman had indicated. He was still biting his lip, and his hands were clenched in his lap, as if to stop their trembling.

“I apologise. I behaved like a thug.” Kei’s head jerked up in surprise, but he didn’t speak. Perhaps he was wary of another attack. With perfect cause, Arman thought ruefully. “I understand your intentions not to kill. I don’t believe for a moment you would ever do such a thing, whatever I said before in anger. I...may not have been entirely rational then. Loke’s death.... Even now, when I think of it...I would kill that boy again, if he were here. I hate him, I truly do. But my reactions...they were disproportionate. Many tried to tell me. You, ironically, are the only one who has not, and yet you have more cause than most. Why?”

He’d kept his voice deliberately gentle although even saying Loke’s name had made his chest tight with grief. He had shouted like a drunken lout before. A dishonourable way to behave to a prisoner, let alone a servant.

“My lord...may I speak?” Arman nodded. “I didn’t blame you because I knew how you felt, a little. My parents died two years ago, my father of bej fever—a great loss to our village, and to my sister and to me. But my mother.... I wasn’t there, I only know...Myka, my sister, said she couldn’t eat or sleep. She was driven by this huge guilt that she could not, with all her skill, her training, all her experience, save the man she loved. Adored. So she drank nitre distillation. Nitre weed...the death is very painful. Cruel, in fact. There are far kinder ways a healer can use to kill herself. She must have chosen that route because she felt she deserved it.”

Arman drew in a breath in shock. “That must have been hard for you as a healer too.”

Kei nodded jerkily. “Yes, it was. Because I had failed too. And for a while, I too thought about death, only for a short while, but then I remembered Myka and my duty. But even knowing the pain I would cause with my suicide, the pain in my heart from losing the two of them, so close together, one so pointlessly.... It seemed, even for just that short while, a way—the only way—to end that agony. So, no, my lord, I don’t blame you for your reactions or what you did. I don’t accept it’s right to kill, but when the pain is so hard to bear...I know sometimes, you just do what you need to, to make it stop.” He lowered his eyes again. “If I’ve caused any offence....”

“No, you haven’t. But you know I have killed without the excuse of grief. I’m a soldier. Does that not sicken you?”

“No, because who am I to judge? If I’m not willing to kill with my own hands, but yet it’s necessary, then can I blame those who will, in my defence or in the defence of others, even my enemy?”

“So you don’t believe that boy at Darbin was evil either.”

Kei looked at him with weary eyes. “You know the answer to that, Sei Arman. If we had attacked Kuplik, if your home, your family, your loved ones were under threat, don’t tell me you wouldn’t look for a bomb or whatever weapon came to hand to fight back. You wouldn’t have it in you to stand and watch. Not you.”

Despite himself, Arman felt his eyes filling, remembering that day yet again. “It was such a cruel death, such an unnecessary death. He died in my arms, in pain, no dignity—how can I forgive, Kei? How can I stop hating a race who took my heart and crushed it?”

He found to his horror, that tears were coursing down his cheeks. What on earth was he doing, sitting here, weeping in front of his servant? His prisoner? He squeezed his eyes shut, and cursed himself for ever starting this stupid conversation. He heard Kei moving, and then a gentle touch on his hand. When he opened his eyes, Kei was kneeling before him, his hands pressed lightly over his own.

“Forgiveness does not mean forgetting, my lord,” he said in a quiet voice. “That boy took something away from you that he should not have. You took away something from him
you
should not have. Neither of you gained any comfort or benefit from killing. Blame...hate...fear, these bring nothing but harm to those carrying the emotions. I just...want you...to let your memories of your love be unclouded by your hate, and then your friend’s life will be a blessing once more instead of a burden. I want you to heal, Sei Arman, so you won’t be driven by your pain through your days like a beast. Your friend would wish this too.”

“I loved him. Truly, with all my heart and soul. I’m empty without him.”

“Yes,” Kei said gently, his grip a little firmer on Arman’s hands. “I know you are, my lord.”

Arman’s tears wouldn’t stop however much he willed it, but somehow he knew Kei wouldn’t use this weakness against him. He felt...only gentle concern...and no judgement. “Will it ever stop, this pain? Can I ever feel joy in life again?”