Kei's Gift (37 page)

“Thank you, my lord.”

“Right.” Arman went to the door and called for one of his people. “You’ll have to go and be dealt with by Senator Mekus now. Thank you for coming.”

Gyu got to his feet. He looked rather dazed by all he’d heard. “Yes, my lord. I mean, you’re welcome.”

Arman shut the door behind the man, and then returned to sit at his desk. Kei was without words, he was so shocked by what he’d heard. But why...why had he been brought here?

“Because I needed you to see it,” Arman said gently.

Kei hadn’t realised he’d spoken aloud. “My...my lord.... Why did you do that?”

“Because a wrong needed righting, and this was the only thing I could do, given the political climate. It was nothing but a crime against your people. Against
you
. Jena told me about your...soul-touching...and what it’s meant in this situation. I can only say how sorry I am, how much I want to help you, and how much I miss your friendship and your trust. I wanted to prove myself worthy of it. I also needed to satisfy my own sense of honour. Those people should not have died, and most certainly not in that way, although you should realise that saying so, in public at least, would get me hanged. Her Serenity has already told me no apologies will be forthcoming. I tried, Kei. I wanted to get them sent home, but she refused. This is all I can do—for now.”

“My...my lord.” Kei clutched at himself, confused and unable to make sense of all he had heard and was feeling. That Arman would go to all this trouble—humiliate himself, put himself at risk for the sake of justice.... Kei had been so afraid of him, but had he been right in the first place...to trust? Could he trust him? His heart pounded, overloading with sudden hope, his grief, confusion, whirling inside him.

“Kei?”

“I....”

He couldn’t deal with this any more, with his emotions boiling up so fast and confusingly. He got to his feet, thinking only that he needed to escape, no plan in his mind other than finding a place to be alone. Arman got up so fast, he knocked his chair over, and then he held Kei, stopping him from falling—or leaving. He cried out as Arman’s emotions flooded him, but then he felt...warm.... He wasn’t being hurt by this touch. He just felt...warm...and more...perhaps.... He wept tears of raw relief because the pain had stopped.

“Don’t cry, Kei,” Arman murmured.

But Kei was helpless to obey, wrapped in this strong, comforting embrace, feeling so safe...it felt so good. “Arman....”

“It’s all right. Sit down.” Arman led him back to his chair, then made to move away, but Kei clutched at him, needing that comfort for a little longer. Arman knelt and kept his arms around him, a loose, unthreatening embrace. Kei rested his head on Arman’s shoulder, and wondered at this miracle, this end to apparently endless agony.

“It doesn’t hurt,” he murmured. “Why doesn’t it hurt when you touch me?”

“I don’t know, but I’m glad it doesn’t.” Arman moved a little, so Kei had to look at him. “I wanted to help you. Watching you...die slowly...I would do anything to stop that, you understand? I would give all I had to keep you safe and alive.”

“They died...they’re still dead.”

“Yes...I can’t change that. Will it always be between us? I told you, I’m a soldier—soldiers kill.”

Kei wouldn’t meet his eyes. “I can’t...forget...I still feel it.... But...would you do it again?”

Always the sticking point. “If ordered to—but I would argue to the limits of my ability if I felt it was wrong. I should have done that this time, and I did try, if not hard enough. I won’t make that mistake again. I’m sorry. I want your trust. I would not betray it or you. If you can’t forgive me, there’s nothing more I can do.”

Kei nodded. If only he could stop feeling that emptiness...but Arman...he was not an evil man. “I forgive you...but I can’t forget what happened.”

Arman stroked his cheek. “I wouldn’t expect you to. I just don’t want you to hate me. I want to be allowed to help you.”

“You do...I don’t know why.... I don’t hate you. I couldn’t make myself, I wanted to....”

“I’m sure you did,” Arman said gently. “I won’t betray you. I can’t promise I won’t be asked to kill again, but I’ll do all I can to argue against it. Let me help you. Watching you in pain...it’s like feeling it myself.”

You have no idea what’s that’s really like
. “At least...it doesn’t hurt when you touch me...it makes it stop.”

Arman found his hand and clasped it between them. “Then use it. Let me help you find time to think, to heal.”

“Yes,” Kei whispered, fresh stupid tears falling again. “I just wanted to know I could trust you. But I couldn’t.”

“And can you? Now? “

It might be a mistake, but Kei felt he could let this man into his heart. Arman would not hurt him—not deliberately. “Yes.”

Arman carefully pulled him close. “You won’t ever have a reason to doubt my word, I swear.”

And Kei knew this would be true. He had found a little peace, a little rest, for a while at least. He hoped it would be enough to let him find a way to live again.

When Arman cautiously moved a second time to detach himself, worried they would be discovered, Kei let him go without complaint. Arman remained crouched beside him for a moment. “Do you want to go back to my house, or stay here with me this afternoon? I can’t leave yet.”

Kei pulled his cloak around him. “Stay...please,” he said quietly. “I’m sorry to be any trouble.”

Gods—that Kei would apologise to
him
. “Kei...please don’t. I have Karus’s papers on the translations—if you have those in front of you, you can say you’re working on them. You don’t need to actually do so.”

He retrieved the papers from his files, and laid them on the desk next to Kei, who looked up at him. “Karus...is he all right?”

“He’s very well. Worried about you, as is Jena.”

Kei reached out as if to touch Arman, but then he pulled his hand back under his cloak. “I can’t see them,” he whispered.

“They understand.” He touched Kei’s shoulder and felt how Kei relaxed a little with the contact. He cupped Kei’s chin and looked into his sad, weary eyes. “Will you heal? Given time?”

“I don’t know.” Kei reached up and closed his fingers around Arman’s wrist. “But now’s there a chance. I just—”

There was a knock at the door. Arman gently removed Kei’s hand. “We’ll talk later. Be calm.”

He called for his visitor to come in, and dealt with his captain’s request and report in short order before dismissing him. Kei kept his eyes lowered to the desk, apparently absorbed in the dictionary, but the fingers holding the pencil shook, and Arman doubted he was really reading Karus’s notes.

That was the pattern for the afternoon, a stream of people, even one senator who looked at Kei in disdainful curiosity, needing Arman’s advice and attention. Through it all, Kei was silent, standing respectfully for the senator but not looking at him, and otherwise, staring down at the notes while Arman conducted his business. After a while, he began to do some real work on the thing although it wasn’t what Arman expected of him. Kei’s able mind needed occupation. Arman wondered if, in following Jena’s advice to the letter, he’d forgotten this important fact. A little useful work might distract Kei from his distress.

It was nightfall before he could get free, and send for a calash to take them to his house. He’d already had a note sent to Karus to explain he would not be there for supper that evening, and to ask him to tell Jena Kei was a little better. More than that, Arman didn’t want to say, because he had no idea if Kei would improve at all.

Kei was quiet, huddled into the corner of the carriage for the short ride back, and appeared somewhat at a loss when Arman took him back to his rooms. But he wouldn’t allow Arman to get their meal in his stead. He didn’t want the talk to start again, he said.

Arman let Kei have his way—at least when Kei went home, he wouldn’t have to be the victim of such nonsense any more. That Arman would be left with the wife and the household he had, was only justice for what he’d done to this man, to this man’s people.

What would happen to Kei then? He had a lover, Jena said. Arman wondered what she was like and if she would be able to help Kei at all. If he loved her, at least she must be a good person. Arman felt jealousy rise as he wondered what this person was like who'd caught Kei’s affections, but then he pushed those feelings back down hard. If Kei felt that in him, he would be distressed, and it was pointless. The simple fact was, Arman would not always be there. Kei needed a lover of his own race, someone to build a future and a family with. At least he didn’t have the dynastic pressures on him Arman had. What a blessing it would be, to be able to follow one’s heart without restraint. To be able to offer love, without shame, to hold, and to love, with true desire, not duty.

Kei was taking a long time. Arman was about to go find him when he returned, looking pale and tense. Arman took the tray from him and made him sit. “Gods, what happened? Did they hurt you?”

Kei shook his head. “Just...such dirty minds.”

Arman uncovered the food and urged Kei to eat. “Not a gift so much as a burden, this soul-touching, if you ask me.”

“It doesn’t usually bother me, but—” He clenched his hand around his spoon. “Now...there’s nothing between my feelings and other people’s, like a curtain ripped away, or a wall...and a void in here.... Death would be a blessing.”

Arman gripped his shoulders in alarm. “No! Kei, please....”

Kei winced at his passion so Arman let him go. “I was just stating the truth,” he said, rubbing his shoulder where Arman had held him.

“No more talk of death, I forbid it.”

His eyes shuttered. “Yes, my lord,” he said in a dull voice.

“Don’t...gods, in another time and place, we would be equals and you would have no need to fear me or my kind, but can’t you just...forget that, while we’re alone? Please?”

Kei still wouldn’t look at him. “I have nothing to offer you, offer anyone...I’m a shell.”

“You’re not,” he protested. “When you go home, won’t your lover be able to help?”

“Reji has no special powers over the heart to heal it.” He grimaced as he looked at his food. “I’m really not hungry.”

“Leave it then. You might want it later.”

Kei covered the plates and put them on the tray near the door, and then walked over to his pallet, lying down on it and facing the wall as if Arman no longer existed. Perplexed, Arman sat down to eat, wanting to let Kei do whatever he needed to do, but at a loss to know what to try next.

His meal finished, he returned to his desk. If Kei wanted to be left alone, he might as well use the evening to work on his reports. He would need to go to Garok soon and see the new recruits. He could visit Tijus, perhaps, on the way.

He managed to lose himself in his work for several hours, and so was shocked when he felt a hand on his shoulder. “Kei?”

“I just needed to touch you,” he said, sounding embarrassed. “I’m sorry.”

Arman stood and took him into his arms. “No, please, do what you need,” he said, pulling Kei’s head onto his shoulder, feeling him shivering a little. What could he
do
to help this man...the enemy only of his peace. “Whatever you need from me is yours.” Kei was silent for a moment, but then he said something Arman couldn’t make out. “What did you say?”

“In another time or place....”

“Yes, if the gods allowed it.” Kei’s braid under his fingers was as smooth, as soft as he thought it might be. He was such a handsome man. “It’s very late.”

“I won’t sleep, but you should.”

“Is there anything...?” He couldn’t ask the man to share his bed, as he would have done without hesitation if Loke were in this state. His control wasn’t
that
perfect, and if Arman’s body betrayed any desire, it would undoubtedly distress Kei in his present vulnerable condition. He would never do that to Kei, it would be dishonourable and wrong when he was in such a position of weakness...and Kei already had a lover. “Do you want to eat?”

Kei shook his head. “No.”

“Then try and rest. Do you think you will want to come to the palace tomorrow?”

“I don’t know. What would I do there? Won’t people talk?”

“What do you do at home when you’re not treating people? I think you said you were pursuing your father’s research—is there nothing here you could do in that line?”

Kei gave him a ghost of a smile. “Not wishing to offend you, but the facilities are too primitive here.”

“Then change that. Write down a medical guide. Perhaps even for treating injuries gained in battle...like gut wounds....”

His chest ached a little at the memory, and Kei reached out to touch his hand. “I can’t teach that in words, but I could make notes about some of the treatments that might help. It would be a start.”

“Would it bother you the army would use it?”

“An injured man is an injured man, Arman. My patients are not enemies.”