Kei's Gift (72 page)

It was a cold, bright, windless day, perfect for fast travel. Tiko had said they might even make Beyto in three days if they were lucky, but as it was two hundred miles, that was pushing it. They would certainly need to swap a beast or two with ones in the village herd, but that had happened before so perhaps they would make it.

They rode until well past noon, Kei riding in silence beside the cart, looking rather thoughtful and not paying a lot of attention to what was going on around him. When they stopped for a meal and to rest and water the beasts, he wandered off to sit under a leafless tree at the far side of the small waterhole where they had pulled up.

“Is he all right, do you think?” Arman asked Tiko as the captain pulled supplies out of his saddle bags.

“Why don’t you ask him, since you’re such great friends. He’ll be missing his other ones, I think.”

Arman tried and failed to detect any sarcasm or mockery in Tiko’s voice, so he nodded and made his slow way over to Kei. He was determined to practice on the crutches as much as he could. They made his ribs ache and he was already sore in muscles which had seen no activity in weeks, although the increased mobility felt wonderful to him.

Kei only looked up as Arman came over and lowered himself onto a log near to where Kei sat. “You want to take care not to trip on the rough ground,” he said mildly.

“I’m being careful. I just need to get used to them, and I can’t pick and choose the lie of the land.” Kei only nodded and fell silent again. “What happened to that fellow, Misek? That had to have been a bad injury.”

“It was a kiln explosion. Banji’s father was killed, Mis and his father badly injured. Mis nearly died—he was lucky only to lose the sight in his eye. The shard that hit it could have killed him.”

Arman winced. “But you saved him?”

“Me and Myka together, yes. He looks much better than he did, but he’s self-conscious about his appearance. I tried to tell him women don’t just go on looks, but he has to work that out for himself.”

“Yes, I suppose he does. Sad about leaving them behind?”

Kei looked up but then shook his head. “Not really. They’re all doing well—Teki’s a very good man, and Myka’s learning a lot from him, more than she could from me. It’s been good for her, and even when I get back, I’ll suggest he hangs around for a little longer.”

Kei was a lousy liar but he deflected like a champion. “You’ll be back very soon. If Tiko has his way, we’ll be in Darshek in nine days. You’ll be completely free of all responsibilities or concerns again.”

“Yes. How marvellous.”

His flat tone surprised Arman. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. Would you mind leaving me alone for a while? I’m not mad at you or anything, I just don’t feel like company.”

“All right,” Arman said, but he was concerned at this uncharacteristic lack of sociability. “But you need food and water too.”

“Who’s the healer on this journey? Go on back and get a gren nut cake before Neki wolfs them down—you won’t eat them again, most likely.”

Reluctantly, Arman obeyed his request, hobbling back to where the soldiers had a little fire going, and sitting on the stool which they carried with them for his use. Neki’s appetite was a match for his large frame, but he had courteously left Arman a share of the sweet cakes, given to them by Kei’s mother for them all to enjoy, even if the group did include one hated Prijian general. As he sipped the welcome hot tea and ate the food, he watched Kei across the waterhole, lost in his thoughts, and wondered what exactly was bothering him. Perhaps it was regret at his decision to go on to Darshek, or maybe he was just feeling a little sad in contrast to the happiness of the wedding celebrations the night before. It wasn’t his place to push Kei into revealing his thoughts. Indeed, it would probably be best for Kei to begin detaching from him now they were over the twin difficulties of Darbin and Albon.

“Gets under your skin, doesn’t he?” Tiko said, crouching down and poking the fire into a brief burst of life. The other soldiers had wandered off to stretch their legs, have a piss and to check on their beasts. Kei hadn’t moved. “I’ll tell you, I think he should have stayed behind.”

“So do I, and have said so.”

Tiko grinned. “But he didn’t listen. That’s our Kei.” He continued poking at the embers. “I don’t suppose you gave any thought to what would happen to the hostages when they came back. I mean, when you were taking them away.”

“None whatsoever,” Arman admitted. “I barely cared what happened to them at all, and what I did care related only to the inconvenience of replacing them.”

Tiko grunted. “Thought as much. You know, general, you can bring the people home, but your crimes won’t end there, necessarily.” He looked up at Arman. “These people will have seen things, experienced things no one in their clan can have any idea of. Even if they’re not soul-touchers like Kei, seeing the hostages of Ai-Vinri killed—”

“Look, how many times do I have to say I regret that? It wasn’t my choice or my decision.”

Tiko held up his hand. “I know it wasn’t. I know you’re sorry. But it doesn’t change the fact we’re going to have a lot of people who won’t be able to tell their kin what happened to them and have them understand what it was like.” He pointed with his stick at Kei. “He’s a perfect example. He goes home, but he’s not home.”

“But he was fine in Albon,” Arman protested. “He was happy, fitted in perfectly, was welcomed and loved—it’s only his strange sense of duty that stopped him staying.”

“You see, there you’re wrong, I think. He was fine for a day. But how much of what happened to him do you suppose he told his sister or his father? How much do you think they understand? They care, anyone can see that—but can they truly see, know what it’s like?”

Tiko’s weathered face was earnest. This was one of the only serious conversations Arman had ever had with him, and he felt a little uneasy about it, wondering if the man was setting him up for a mocking. “He’s not given them much of a chance.”

“No, but he could be there a month and he still wouldn’t. General, we see it all the time in the villages. Our young folk go to the city, learn what it’s like living with thousands of other people instead of a few hundred, seeing all the opportunities and excitement, and a few of them always decide not to go back. Of course it works the other way too—people get sick of the crowded existence and the bustle and return to their clans, or even join new ones. It all evens out in the end, and it benefits villages and the city to have a movement of people between them. It’s fine if you know all you have to do to find what you’re looking for is to up sticks and move to a different place. But what if you don’t know that? What if there’s no peace for you wherever you live?
That’s
what I’m afraid of for Kei and the others, general. They’ll be in exile living in their own homes.”

Arman stared at the captain in consternation. “I can’t see what I can do about it. I want to help...but what’s done is done. Is there anything I can do, at least for him?”

Tiko shrugged and stood. “I don’t see any way, myself. I was just speculating on what’s bothering our lad. Be a friend while you can—we all will be. And hope this lover of his can help him adjust.” He bellowed across the waterhole. “Kei! Shift your arse, boy, we haven’t got all day!”

Kei waved and walked back towards them. Tiko turned to Arman again. “I tell you, general, if you were hoping for forgiveness from our people just for bringing the hostages home—if you do—you should remember what I said. The hurt will continue for a good while and may never disappear. People won’t forgive that.”

“I know, and I have no expectations. That’s not why I decided to do this.”

“Good. Oy, Neki, Seto, hitch that beast. We need to get moving!” He strode off to supervise the change over of the animals.

Arman poured out a mug of tea for Kei and doused the fire with the ends of the pot. Kei accepted the drink and a cake Arman had guarded from the marauding Neki. “Sorry, I just forgot about the time,” he said, disposing of the cake in a few bites and washing it down quickly with gulps of tea. He threw the rest of his mug onto the fire and brushed his hands off on his trousers.

“Don’t you want more than that?” Arman asked. The others had eaten jerky and several cakes apiece for their lunch.

“I’m not that hungry and we’ll stop again in a few hours.”

He still had a slightly faraway look in his eyes which troubled Arman. “Kei...I know I’m not Reji or Misek, but if you want to talk, you know you can, don’t you?”

Kei gave him a slightly sad smile. “Yes, I do. You’ve always been kind to me. Now, excuse me, I need to piss before I get back into the saddle.” He walked a hundred yards or so away to the boulder against which the others had relieved themselves.

Arman shook his head.
Always kind.
What a joke—and what a selective memory Kei had. Or perhaps he just had a wondrous capacity for forgiveness. Thinking over Tiko’s words, Arman thought perhaps there was a lot of merit in them. Even without the horrors Kei had experienced, taking a lad like him from a place like Albon to Utuk and exposing him to such a different culture had clearly had an effect on him. And Kei had been simply astonishing the way he had formed bonds of affection with his enemies so quickly, made the effort to learn a tongue which would never be any use to him, had tried to understand the society in which he found himself. Many a man in a similar situation would have been sullen and obdurate—Kei had never been either. He had too wide a soul for Albon. But if he couldn’t go back to his home, Arman feared it would cripple him. Tiko had the right of it—there was no end to his crimes.

They were back on the road in ten minutes, and continued the fast pace they’d set in the morning. Even with the late start, they had managed sixty miles by the time they made camp for the night, and Tiko seemed to be running a bet with himself as to how far they could get in a single day. Arman wanted this journey to be over, but he couldn’t help being a little apprehensive. Kei continued to be withdrawn, and spoke little even at night when they were alone and holding each other.

Arman also noticed that whenever Darshek was mentioned, or Tiko speculated on when they would arrive, Kei would become even more quiet than usual. Tiko might be right. Kei wasn’t in any hurry to return home, but that would change once Kei caught up with Reji. This artificial situation couldn’t last forever, and once Kei had adjusted, then he would probably settle back into his old life far more easily than he feared. A lot rested on this mysterious lover being as understanding as everyone thought he was.

Tiko got his wish, just managing to get to Beyto on the third day before the light utterly failed. Even so they unloaded and unhitched by lamplight. Once they were settled into the house vacated for their use—another small one like Reji’s—Kei fretted that Arman really should still be allowed his day’s rest. Arman just wanted to get on and end the journey. “Kei, I’m fine—even my ribs have stopped hurting and so has my leg. I could probably walk on it if I had to.”

Kei glared. “You’ll do no such thing, you idiot! Your bones are knitting, true, but the join is still fragile. If you could see what I can with my gift, you’d be a lot less overconfident about things. You need to wait before you bear loads on that leg and you’ll be using a walking stick for a month or so even when you throw the crutches away.”

Arman groaned to himself at the idea of more hobbling. “But my leg muscles are wasting to nothing.”

“Yes, I know.” Kei crouched down and looked at Arman’s leg again, touching it gently around the splint. “If you swear to me on Karus’s life you won’t try to bear any weight on it, I think I can take this off. Then you can do some exercises and I can give it massages which will help improve the tone. It will still be weak once you do start to walk on it, but it won’t be as bad as it could be.”

“I promise. Do what you need to.”

It was a relief to lose the weight and bulk of the splint, and Kei pronounced himself happy with the straightness of the limb. After they had a wash and ate supper, he had Arman do some gentle movements with it, supporting as he lifted and bent the leg, and explained that he could even do some of it while they were travelling, clenching the muscles and lifting the whole leg from time to time. Arman couldn’t help but feel elated at this obvious sign he’d passed another milestone in his recovery, impatient to be able to take the first steps again without support. Being able now to wash and to move about without help, dress as a man and spend time upright—all these things improved his mood. They had spent so long on the road, so long with him injured, it had begun to feel like it would be this way forever, and yet in a week he could be walking, and the journey would be over then too. Even with his uncertain future, it made him hopeful.

Kei left him for an hour or so to talk to the village healer and returned with a small pot. In answer to Arman’s questioning look, he said, “Boiled tido palm oil with tirsel leaf. It’s very good for sprains and sore muscles.”

“A liniment? Like we use on the beasts?”

“Yes,” Kei said with a wry smile, “but without the stink and the ineffective ingredients. Someone needs to tell your physicians snake fat is good to eat, but is pretty useless as a medicine.”

“I’ll bear it in mind.” Kei got him to lie on the bed so he could do the massage properly. “Tido palm oil? That was in that bruise ointment too.”