Kei's Gift (66 page)

“No, I was wondering if getting up to relieve my bladder was worth the humiliation of falling flat on my backside,” Arman said curtly. “Where were you anyway?”

“Just getting some breakfast for us, my lord.” He helped Arman to the earth closet, and then back to the kitchen. “I wouldn’t run off, you know that.”

“You’re making too much of my need to piss,” Arman muttered. Kei decided if Arman wanted to pretend he wasn’t with someone who knew exactly how he was feeling from minute to minute, that was up to him.

He served up thick slices of Meis’s good bread and her best butter, encouraging Arman to try the honey. By the time he’d brewed tea for them both, Arman’s odd grumpiness was gone. He sipped his tea peaceably, commenting on the quality of the bread, and told Kei about some of the lousy food he’d eaten on campaigns. It would be a dull day for Arman. Kei wished he could take Arman to see his father’s library—but after what Meis had said, it was obvious any sightseeing would have to wait. “In another time or place,” he muttered.

“Kei?”

“Nothing. Ready for me to take your stitches out?”

He took Arman back to the bedroom and fetched his scissors. Annoyingly, a knock came at the door just as he was pulling out the second stitch. Arman immediately tensed up. “It’ll just be a friend,” Kei soothed. “I’ll tell them I’ll come see them later.”

Arman nodded and Kei went out to answer the door. He threw it open, ready to send whoever it was on his way, then blinked in surprise. “Myka...I was going to come and see you in a short while.”

She was freshly bathed, but not looking very cheerful for someone about to be married that day. “Can I come in?”

“Uh...sure. I’m busy, but is something wrong?”

She bit her lip and played with the end of her braid. “I was talking to Banji last night,” she said in a low voice.

“Oh, is that what they’re calling it now?” he joked.

She glared. “We
were
,” she said. “We don’t...you know...all the time.”

He clasped his breast dramatically. “It gladdens a brother’s heart to know his sister doesn’t actually making love every hour of the day.”

She stamped her foot crossly. “Oooh, you’re
impossible
to talk to when you’re like this.”

He pulled her into a hug. “I’m sorry. What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. It’s just...that man,” she said, glancing towards the bedroom. “He’s really, truly a friend?”

“Yes, I told you. What’s that to do with anything?”

“Well, I was talking to Banji and trying to understand how you could... how you could
bear
to...and...he said, maybe I should just go talk to him myself.”

Kei stared in astonishment. “You want to meet Arman? Now?”

“Well, why not?” she said irritably. “You’re only here today and I won’t see him again...oh, this is stupid,” she said, turning away.

“No, it’s not. Look, I’m just taking out his stitches. Why don’t you come in and watch?”

She nodded and followed Kei to the bedroom where Arman was trying to hastily prop himself up. “General, I’d like you to meet my sister. Myka, this is General Arman. Or Sei Arman as his people call him. Sei means he’s the son of a senator, which is a little like one of the Rulers.”

Arman straightened in astonishment, but he collected himself rapidly. “I’m very pleased to meet you, Myka. Kei has told me a lot about you.”

Myka wouldn’t go any closer. “Is that colour real?” she whispered. “And where does all that hair come from?”

“Don’t be rude,” Kei chided. “Arman, Myka’s a healer too, as you know. I thought she could talk to you while I finish up.”

He felt Myka reassessing her decision to come into the bedroom, and Arman’s embarrassment. Kei felt a little mischievous this morning, so he ignored both of them, bending over Arman’s stomach and removing the stitches without speaking.

He guessed a staring match was going on over his head, but he just worked slowly, probing with fingers and his gift to make absolutely sure the wound had healed, which it had. “The Prij are bastards,” he heard Myka say fiercely.

He sat up and glared at her. “I didn’t ask you to come in here to abuse him. I thought you wanted to talk to him.”

“I
am
talking to him. I’m telling him the Prij are bastards.”

He heard a slight chuckle and he looked up at Arman. “I know for a fact at least one of them is,” Arman said calmly. “While my experience of the Darshianese leads me to the conclusion their men are resourceful and their women are beautiful.”

Myka blushed bright red. “I don’t want compliments from you,” she said, moving back against the wall.

“I’m sorry. I can’t really think of something ruder I’d prefer to say. Was that all you wanted to say to me?”

“No!” she said angrily. “Why did you come to our village? Why did you take our people? Why did you kill them and enslave them?”

“Why do you think?”

Kei would stay quiet, he promised himself. Arman had this under control for now. Myka scowled. “Because you’re all
bastards
, that’s why.” When had his sister picked up such a vulgar mouth? Banji was such a polite young man.

“Then I suppose that’s what it must be. Life must be restful here in Darshian, with such certainties.”

“Are you making fun of my people, you arrogant arse? How could you...? Don’t you have a family? Can’t you imagine what it’s like to have your life ripped in two, to lose all that you hold dear? To have someone you loved more than life killed?”

“Yes. I can.” Arman gave Myka one of his more penetrating looks. “What makes you think I can’t? Isn’t loss part of the human condition, or don’t you think the Prij are human?”

“You’re just animals! All of you.”

“So we may be, and so we’re of no consequence to you. Is that right?”

“Yes,” she spat.

“So when the Prij say exactly the same thing about the Darshianese, and decide the land you hold would be better populated by humans and not animals, then that justifies their actions, correct?”

She advanced a little, her hand raised in a fist. “We’re not animals! We’re human beings, with homes, and loves, and lives, and hopes!”

“Yes, you are. And so are we, Myka. And like you, we have trouble seeing the others are human beings. So I guess you and I aren’t so different after all.”

She was angry enough that she might actually slap Arman, so, ignoring the pain it caused him, Kei grabbed her shoulder and held her back. “Just talk. Lay a hand on him and I’ll throw you out.”

“How can you stand him? He’s...he’s....”

“What? He’s agreeing with everything you say. Why is that making you so angry?”

“Because he’s so
calm
. How can he be a murderer and just sit there like it’s a perfectly normal thing to be?”

“Then ask him.” Kei made her turn to Arman again. “Is she right to call you a murderer?”

“Yes, she is,” Arman said, no longer calm, his distress rising. But at the same time, he wasn’t trying to avoid this. Kei would halt things if he really couldn’t stand it. At this moment, he could.

“How can you
bear
to live with yourself?” Myka asked, though there was perhaps a little more confusion and a little less righteous anger in her tone. “If I killed someone...I wouldn’t be able to live in my skin, I really couldn’t.”

“Do you love Kei?”

She stopped waving her hands about and turned to Kei. “What kind of question is that?”

“A fair one,” he said. “You started this, sister mine, and now you’re going to finish it. So answer the question.”

She glared at Arman. “Of course I love him. You’re just being ridiculous now.”

“No, I’m just making sure of my facts. I want you to imagine you and your brother are sitting together talking, just as we are now. Please then imagine that a soldier appears from nowhere, walks up to Kei and stabs him with a sword. No warning, just stabs him here.” He pointed to a place on his own stomach that meant something very personal to him. “Imagine the swordsman walks off, and leaves Kei dying right where he stands now. All you can do is watch him die slowly. You listened to him gasp, you can smell he’s soiled himself, and he’s terrified because he knows he’s dying. All you can do is watch, Myka. Your medicine is no use, and your beloved brother is there in your arms, dying in agony you’re utterly helpless to relieve. How do you feel?”

“Gods,” she whispered as she sought Kei’s hand. “That’s horrible. Don’t speak of such a thing.”

“But you agree it would be somewhat upsetting?” She nodded mutely. “So, Kei spends several hours dying in pain, and then he dies. Shortly after, the swordsman walks back though that door there. There’s a big, sharp knife on the table, and the man who made your beloved brother die in dreadful agony is right there. What do you do?”

“I’d kill him, I’d...I’d grab the knife and kill him!”

“Exactly.” Arman rested back against the pillows, tired and depressed, his mouth tight. “If it was someone you loved, if you had the power, you would use it, and you wouldn’t stop to ask a single question. Most people would—it’s a very natural instinct to want to avenge the death of your loved ones. But you would then be a murderer too. Your law doesn’t allow vengeance killings. So how would you live in your skin then?”

Myka moved closer to Kei. “I...suppose for a while, I wouldn’t care. But then I would care but then...it would be too late. That’s why it’s wrong to kill. You can’t change it,“ she said, her voice now more pleading rather than ranting.

“Indeed, this is true. You asked how I can bear to live with myself and the answer is that for a long while, I didn’t care either. I was angry and full of hate, and only slowly did I understand how wrong I’d been. Then I realised there were some things I could do to at least reduce the harm I’d done. I’m trying to do those things even now, but the boy I killed is still dead. If I had to go back to the time when I killed him, if I felt as I did then, I would probably kill him again. But I wouldn’t now,” he said with an affectionate glance at Kei. “When you have a good, kind person to help you understand things, then it’s possible to lose the anger and the hate. You’re very lucky, Myka. You’ve had Kei with you all your life. I’ve known him for a few months. I am very grateful that I have.”

Myka was paralysed by confusion. Kei left her thinking about things, and came over to Arman’s side to finish taking out the stitches. He wondered what Myka would do. She was a kind person and a clever one, but her emotions always boiled so fast. He felt her turmoil and wanted to help—but this wasn’t something he could fix for her. She had waded in, thinking she would fling some insults at Arman and show the big bad general what Darshianese womanhood thought of him, and instead had found something rather different from what she’d expected. It was a healer’s job to deal with the unexpected. Kei would let her do just that.

“We’re not animals,” she said quietly after a long, long silence.

“Neither are we,” Arman said. “If we were animals, then we couldn’t be held to account for our actions. Because we’re human, then there’s really no excusing what we’ve done to your people. What
I’ve
done, Myka. I had reasons, but they were poor ones, though I thought differently at the time. All I can do is to try and fix the results of those bad decisions. That’s no comfort to the families of those people who died. It’s not like I want anyone to pretend it is.”

Kei pointed to the stool next to the bed. “Why don’t you sit down, Myka?”

She obeyed while Kei finished the stitch removal. “There. It looks good, Arman.” He collected the mess and quickly took it outside to dispose of, collecting a chair from the front room and bringing it back into the bedroom.

Arman was still feeling his side. “It’s astonishing how quickly it went from being agonising to not causing any pain any more.”

“What happened?” Myka asked, and then seemed surprised at her own question.

“I was rolled on by a dying urs beast. This was apparently not good for me,” he said dryly. Myka winced, and Kei explained the extent of the injuries. “I wish I knew how Vikis was doing,” Arman said to him. “Although I’m glad the poor sod didn’t have to endure the wagons.”

“No, it would have killed him, I’m sure. Spear through the lung,” Kei explained briefly to Myka. “Then the lung became infected. By the time I left he was stable. One of the medics suggested we use isek leaves as a tea—have you heard about that?”

She nodded. “Yes, I spent some time at the academy while I was in Darshek and they were talking about it, telling all the healers to use it if they could get the isek plant. The really odd thing is that it works better with leaves that aren’t completely fresh.”

“Really? That makes no sense,” Kei said. “Unless the leaves change as they go off. Maybe like brewing.”

“Is it just leaves that aren’t fresh, or leaves that are actually damaged or diseased?” Arman asked. Myka looked at him in surprise. She’d clearly forgotten he was there.