Kei's Gift (32 page)

“Much,” he said with a sigh. “I wish I knew how you did that.”

“Trade secret, my lord.” Arman gave him a weary grin. “Why do you go to that if it annoys you so much?”

“Because it’s expected twice over of me. I’m a general and of the senatorial class. Piety is obligatory in us.”

Kei had learned more of the Prijian religion from Karus, who genuinely believed in his gods and took comfort from them, although he wasn’t a superstitious man or a gullible one. He sensed Arman’s faith was less solidly founded, but it wasn’t an area he would tread in. Religion was a touchy subject with the Prij, the bedrock of their state and their belief in their right to rule other nations. Asking about it opened up a thurl’s nest of questions, which could lead to bad feeling. Kei wasn’t going to risk that.

He turned the conversation to the celebrations he was to attend in three days’ time, and Arman’s role in them. Mykis and Arman’s distasteful wife were left aside as something neither of them wanted to talk about, and lunch with Karus, finally over his cold and back on his feet, improved Arman’s mood again. The day with its unpromising beginning, turned out in the end to be a good one for all of them.

Kei left Arman talking quietly with Karus indoors, while he and Jena enjoyed the last of the daylight out in the garden which made them both homesick, but yet was a source of comfort too, with the familiar scents and colours. “I can’t wait to see the others,” she said, sitting on the grass under the big tido palm. “Does it sometimes feel to you like we could be here forever?”

“All the time. Yet Darshek could fall any day now. It’s ironic it would mean we go home but the others would be captives, maybe. I don’t know what to wish for any more.”

“Yes, I know what you mean.” She looked around to see if they were being overheard. “You don’t think a rescue will come now, do you?”

“No. I think the siege is working too well. So much for their damn plans and promises—we should have all fled to Darshek instead of a few of us.”

“But then we’d all be captured when Darshek fell.” She sighed. “Why us? Why can’t the damn Prij stick to their own damn islands and leave us in peace?”

He took her hand as he sat down. “It’s their nature. Like some men are more argumentative, and some women more lusty.”

She gave him an odd look, and grinned at their joined hands. “Is that a comment on anyone in particular?”

He stuck his tongue at her. “Not you, you prim little healer. You want to hope Aldik hasn’t moved onto someone else by the time you get home. Ow!” She’d poked him hard in the stomach. “Well, it’s true.”

“He wants a quiet life. He doesn’t have a roving eye or I wouldn’t put up with him.” Her lover was a widower who didn’t care she was infertile. His children were grown, and she had him all to herself. It was an arrangement a lot of gifted people had, and it worked as well as turning to one of their own kind, often not an option in the villages. The only other alternative was casual romps with normals, who then discarded them for proper spouses when they were ready to build a home and a family.

Still, when Kei saw what Arman had to put up with for the sake of a so-called normal life, he was happy to be the way he was. “I wish all married people were like that,” he said heavily.

“Oh? What’s happening?”

“Arman’s wife,” he said in a low voice, worried about being overheard. “
Tell me, if you had a choice between skinny, bruised old me and Arman, who would you choose?”

She grinned. “
Him, of course. He’s like one of their gods. He’s taller than you even, and I didn’t think that was possible. And that amazing hair...for a Prij, he’s beautiful.”

“Exactly. So why was she giving me the once over in the kitchen, do you think?”

“What?” He shushed her. “
Are you joking? She’s pregnant.”

“Yes, I know.“

“Ick.”

“Exactly.”

She looked at him in concern. “
Be careful. The last thing you need is to be accused of raping one of their women.”

“Tell me something I don’t know.” “
I don’t encourage her. She’s not my type for a start.”

“Oh, right. So who is your type? The golden general?”

“Jena,” he said, shaking his head in exasperation. “Don’t even think that as a jest.”

“That’s all it is. He’s a handsome man, but he’s not one of us. They don’t want to pollute the pure Prijian blood with that of nasty primitive Darshianese. We’re safe.”

“I hope. Come on, Cook must be ready to serve dinner by now.”

~~~~~~~~

Arman was glad on Kei’s account for the day-long celebrations of Her Serenity’s birthday, but for his own, he only wished it to be over. He didn’t enjoy the ceremonial part of his job in the least—although to be fair, the same was true of his fellow generals and the Lord Commander himself. This year, because he was the only one of the three generals actually on Kuplik, he would have an even more prominent role, having to prance about in his best armour for at least an hour, and spend at least another two listening to dull speeches of congratulations from the senators. Usually he contrived to be off Kuplik if he could on this day—no escaping it this year.

He sent Kei to Karus’s house early, so he and Jena could go with Karus’s people to the festival. Karus thought he would not go to the square this year, having been so recently ill, and had told everyone in advance he was saving himself for the Solstice night bonfires, which he loved to watch. Arman wished him good health for that, and had promised to join him then. Privately, he prayed Jena and Kei would still be there then, to make sure Karus was well for it. It was only three weeks away—surely it wasn’t wrong of him to want to delay their departure for that short time, and for Karus’s sake, not his own. Yet the siege had to end soon. He wanted it to end. Kei needed to go home, Arman knew it very well, and would not place any obstacle in his path. But if he could just stay those three weeks....

He rode down the docks where five hundred of his troops were assembled, all specially chosen for the honour of participating in the birthday celebrations. It would hold no surprises for him. There was to be the usual military parade with drums, musicians, dancers and children strewing flowers, starting from the north end of the Avenue of the Gods. The Lord Commander was to ride beside him. All Arman had to do was sit on the back of his well-trained jesig and look imposing, which he could do with his eyes shut—literally, since his ceremonial helmet hid them so well—but would not do so in case he actually fell asleep, as was rumoured to have happened once to one of his predecessors in the reign of Her Serenity’s father. Landing in an undignified heap on the ground for his jesig to step on would not enhance his standing with Her Serenity.

The weather was a little damp, which made things cooler in his armour, thank the gods, but the crowds didn’t seem to mind in the least, the numbers even larger than Arman remembered from two years ago, the last time he’d been in Utuk for the event. He greeted Blikus and then inspected his troops, receiving their salute before he led them towards the parade route. After that, he wouldn’t need to engage his brain again for some time. Blikus was equally bored as they made their slow way along the avenue, past the cheering crowds. “One of these years, they’ll come up with a new idea that doesn’t involve us,” he said out the side of his rigidly smiling mouth as they rode along.

“Never—the army’s the best show they’ve got, unless you want to flood the avenue and ask Ard Peku to sail a ship of the line down it.”

Blikus snorted in amusement. “I dare you to put it to Kita, I really do, Arman.”

“Not on your life, my lord. She’d take me up on it, and I’d have to arrange the troops to clean fish heads off the street for a year.”

“Almost certainly. I see the hostages are here as planned.”

Arman had already noticed dark-haired heads here and there. “Yes, they’ve been looking forward to it. I hope it’s good for their morale.”

“Their morale be damned, I just wish Darshek would hurry up and come to its senses. The people must be eating their boots by now.”

“One can only hope, my lord.” Arman scanned the crowd for Kei. With his height he should be easy to spot, but Arman would understand it if the man had no wish to see the Prijian military on display. Other than being able to meet, there really wasn’t any reason for the hostages to watch this parade. Arman wouldn’t want to, in their place. But in their place, he doubted he would behave as amiably as Kei had, or Jena. He would make a damn poor hostage.

They’d nearly reached the end of the route, and Arman was sure Kei had decided to miss the parade, until he spotted a tall figure waving discreetly at him. He couldn’t help a grin as he nodded at the small group, which he saw included three other Darshianese. Kei had found his friends.
Good
. Arman wanted him to enjoy this day. He’d had such a damn bad time of it to now, and Kei deserved better. Far better.

They were turning, and Arman lost sight of his friend. He now had to concentrate a little more guiding his animal and his troops into the narrow corridor leading to the ceremonial arches at the end of the square. One hour down, two to go, and then he could be free to call on Karus and enjoy a rare free day.

His troops stood at rest in the square. Arman saluted Her Serenity and then rode out again behind Blikus. They had privileged places reserved for them up on the balconies along with the senators where they could listen to the long boring speeches in a little comfort. Out of the public gaze, he and Blikus dismounted, handing their reins over to waiting soldiers. “My Lord Commander? Sei General Arman?”

Arman took off his helmet—he couldn’t see the speaker clearly in the shadows. “What is it, lieutenant?”

“An urgent message, Sei general. You need to come.”

Arman raised an eyebrow at Blikus, who said, “Lead the way, lieutenant.”

They were taken to Blikus’s offices, where he was handed a note. He waved Arman down to sit as he read. Arman watched his commander’s face grow grimmer, until at last he put the paper down on his desk with a sigh. “Bad news, my lord?”

“Yes. One of our troops in north Darshian has been killed. One of the ones stationed at the villages—at Vinri.”

Arman stared in surprise. “What? After all this time? Do we know what happened?”

“Senator Mekus just quotes the report—look, here.” He passed the paper to Arman who read it but gained little more from it than what Blikus had said. “You know what this means, Arman.”

The hostages.
“Surely not, my lord. Not until we know the full story.”

But Blikus shook his head. “Her Serenity’s already given the order. Mekus has already started rounding them up using the palace guard—he doesn’t want to wait since they’re all here today.”

“But there’s no hurry, is there? My Lord, this will do no good and cause unrest.”

“Be that as it may, the terms of surrender were clear and the people of Vinri have chosen to ignore it. The hostages are only here to ensure the good behaviour of their villages—they have no other use to us.”

Arman struggled to find something—anything,—that would delay this decision, so unnecessarily rushed, and entirely unwise. “But my lord...on Her Serenity’s birthday?”

Blikus only shrugged. “They mean nothing to her, I imagine. Mekus is dealing with it. We don’t need to be directly involved—I suggest you ask Captain Peyo to work to Mekus’s orders.”

“Yes, my lord,” Arman said through gritted teeth. “Where are they being taken?”

“To the blue reception hall. Damn stupid people, these north Darshianese—why risk ten of your own for a single one of ours?”

“Indeed, that’s what I’d like to know. I would still counsel a delay, my lord, until we do.”

“It’s out of my hands, Arman. Please see to her orders and get it over with.”

~~~~~~~~

Kei was having a hard time maintaining any semblance of calmness. Not only was he battered by the fears and anxieties of his fellow hostages as they huddled together in the hall under guard, he was also desperately trying to work out what was happening. One minute he was watching Arman in the parade with Jena, Peit, Myri and Urki, and then next they were surrounded by guards who hustled them through the gawking crowds at sword point. No one would tell them what was going on—he didn’t even know if any of the soldiers forcing them along spoke any Darshianese, and his attempts to ask them in Prijian were ignored.

They had been taken in the hall he remembered from his first day in Utuk, where twenty or so of the other hostages were waiting, obviously terrified and no more aware of what was happening than Kei was. Over the next hour or so, the other hostages were also brought in. Their guards kept a close watch on them, but didn’t try to stop them interacting, so Kei spoke to as many as he could, not only to see if anyone knew what was going on, but also because he had an uneasy feeling this might be their last chance to do so. Most of them looked well enough, some looked depressed and rather tired, but didn’t want to talk about what had been going on. From what he gathered, most of them were being used as domestic servants, but he couldn’t see signs of serious abuse. That was one small mercy at least.