Kei's Gift (44 page)

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His soldiers were subdued, and Arman was concerned by the obvious weariness in them from a single night in the cold. He had to ensure they had a day to recuperate at the fort when they got off these mountains. He wasn’t exactly chipper either—he’d slept poorly, waking every hour or so from the cold. He probably would have died without Kei and the warmth of the urs beasts—and this wasn’t even the worst of winters could throw at them this high up. If they were going to keep using this route—and he sincerely hoped another might be found soon—they would need find ways of keeping the men warmer and better rested than this.

Kei suffered worse than all of them—hardly surprising given the battering his body had taken since he’d been taken from his home—but had made no serious complaint, nor lagged behind. He’d slept perhaps somewhat better than Arman, but had less flesh on him to bear the cold and the exertion. If he could get through this day, he would be fine.

Thankfully, there was no more snow, although it had frozen hard. This made things easier in some ways, but the day was one of careful clinging to guide ropes and beasts, only inching along in some places. He kept Kei with him all day—not for Kei’s sake, but his own. Arman felt easier knowing he was in reach should Kei get into trouble.

They’d begun their descent an hour before they stopped to camp for the night, and the sense of relief among the men was palpable. Still no room for tents, and the men bunched together even closer than the night before. Kei wasn’t in a mood to speak, but then neither was Arman. He was too exhausted to do much but gulp some tea, chew some jerky, and then huddle with Kei against the cold. The only blessing was that neither of them had had any bad dreams, nor had they the night before—and a damn good thing too, because the edge of a cliff was a very bad place to start tossing and turning.

It snowed overnight, but only covered them with a couple of inches, so it presented no real difficulty. The going was easy, although the decline was steep and there were several points in the day where Arman’s own nerve nearly failed him, sitting on his beast. But when he looked back, Kei was stoic—the man did indeed know how to ride, although he hadn’t appreciated feeling sore. That would diminish over the next few days. Arman wondered if there were any ointments in Kei’s box of tricks which would work better on tight muscles than the liniment the medics routinely issued. The medic on this march hadn’t made any attempt to talk to Kei, despite Arman’s rather broad hint.

Stupid fool. If Kei ever finished his book, Arman would insist every medic under his command read it and try at least some of the remedies for themselves. The Prijian medical profession were so damn hide-bound. If a simple man from the middle of nowhere knew more of natural sciences than a man such as himself who had the finest education his father’s money could buy, there was something seriously wrong with Prijian learning. Arman yearned to discover more of what the Darshianese had locked away in their libraries. But to do that, he would need to learn his letters better than he had. Another task for his idle hours, few as they were.

Kei rode up beside him—the going was definitely easier here. “My lord, will we reach the fort tonight?”

“Unlikely, but we’ll sleep under canvas, I hope.”

“I think it’s warmer the way it’s been. With the beasts, I mean.” Kei looked away, as if there was something amiss with him suggesting Arman may also contributed to his warmth.

“If you prefer that, we can do it again,” Arman said mildly. “How are you holding up?”

“I’m fine. It’s been easier than the last time.”

Arman was ashamed to say he had no idea how Kei had endured the previous journey, or how he’d felt during it. He hadn’t given a damn about the hostages’ feelings, only that they didn’t die and didn’t slow him down. He had been a callous bastard, no better than Senator Mekus or his own steward. When this war was over, would he be remembered as a killer and a thug? Probably. It gave him no pleasure to know that, but the past was past. Kei had offered him forgiveness—perhaps that meant others would do so. Or perhaps they would consider him no more worth forgiving than he had that boy in Darbin. His hands tightened on the reins as he remembered.

“My lord? Are you all right?”

“Just counting my sins, Kei. Come on, let’s make the most of the light.”

They did sleep under canvas, but in the privacy of a little tent only half again as large as those his men used, he and Kei shared blankets and cloaks again for warmth. It was good to sleep lying down, without ice under their backsides, but it was still extremely cold.

And again he had no dreams.

They were only two hours from the fort. Arman let his men have a lazy start to recover somewhat from the climb and the nights of poor rest, but then they were on their way. Before long he saw the fort in the distance. So far, nothing explained the loss of communication with the north, so the problem had to lie at least at the fort, if not beyond. His lieutenant rode up beside him and saluted. “Shall I send scouts ahead, Sei general?”

“Yes, two only, lieutenant. Have them alert the fort of our arrival and report back here.”

His officer saluted again and left. Shortly after, Arman saw two soldiers peel off and gallop north. “Could there be a problem?” Kei asked in a low voice.

“No idea. If there’s the slightest indication of a fight, I want you to keep well clear, do you hear me?”

He turned and gave Kei a stern gaze to emphasise the point. Kei looked back steadily. “Yes, my lord.”

You’d better
. He didn’t want to lose another person he cared about.

The fort looked utterly normal, but the scouts hadn’t returned. A half-mile from the structure, Arman called a halt, and signalled his lieutenant forward. “Something’s wrong. They’ve not changed the standard to my own at the gate, even though they know I’m coming.”

“Yes, general, I saw that. What—”

“General! Lieutenant!”

Arman turned to the man calling to them—then saw what was coming. A huge force, mounted and afoot, closing in on them rapidly from the east—far more in number than they could ever hope to outrun or defeat. He quickly dropped back to Kei’s side. “Run. Head west or north.
Now
.”

Kei’s eyes were wide with fear and worry. “Arman—”

But there was no time to argue—Arman took his riding crop, slashed Kei’s beast hard on its rump with it, and bellowed, “Now, gods damn it!”

The beast bolted north, and to Arman’s relief, Kei made no attempt to rein it in. “Be safe,” Arman whispered.

He drew his sword and held it high. “Lieutenant, forward advance, and attack!”
Better to die like a man, than live as a coward. H
e whipped his beast and galloped towards the enemy army, sword at the ready, the shouts of his men in his ears, his standard flying high and held proudly by his flag bearer at his side.

Loke, wait for me. I won’t be long now.

Kei scrubbed his hands at the sink, light-headedness and weak legs warning him he was almost at the point of exhaustion where he had to either lie down or fall down. He had been working for well over twenty hours straight—someone had told him it was past midnight, and that had to be at least two hours ago—and he’d been tired to begin with. Finally he finished the stitching, bandaging, the straightening of limbs and the administration of drugs. He would do one last check on his patients, and then find a cot or a pallet somewhere to collapse.

“Are you done, Kei?”

He dried his hands and turned around. “Just now.”

His visitor was Tiko, a grizzled veteran soldier originally from near Kislik, and one of the three Darshianese army captains in charge of the fort. Kei had only spoken to him very briefly before casualties had started to come in from the battle near the fort, and he’d suddenly had to deal with dozens of injured soldiers. “Then come and get some food before you sleep. We can talk while you eat.”

Kei was about to say he was too tired to eat, but the mention of food made his stomach rumble and he realised he was, in fact, very hungry. Using his mind-moving gift for so long always drained him, and if he didn’t eat now, he would pay for it tomorrow when he needed to be functioning. There were some very ill people in the field hospital. “All right.”

The fort was mostly silent, apart from a few quiet moans from the cots where the injured lay, and the distant complaints of the urs beasts. Tiko led him to the kitchens in what had once been the hostages’ barracks, and on a very familiar stove sat a cauldron of stew. The smell made Kei suddenly ravenous, as did the sight of the bread, plain but good, that Tiko cut for him. The captain was kind enough to let him eat a few hasty spoonfuls before questioning him, finding him a mug of water to wash it down. Then Kei’s hunger was slaked enough for him to be polite. “How many more did we lose?” Tiko asked.

“Three, I’m afraid. There really wasn’t any hope of saving them—the wounds were too extensive and the blood loss too great.”

“And the others?”

Kei dunked a bit of bread into the stew and swallowed it. “If they get through this night, then I think they’ll all live. At least they will if we can keep the Prijian medic away from them, or at least make the bastard wash his damn hands before he pokes them any more.”

Tiko chuckled. “I think he might have learned a few things today. I’ll send him north with his comrades—hopefully he won’t kill too many of them.”

“When will they leave?”

“Tomorrow, in the morning. When will the wounded men be ready for travel?”

Kei considered. “Two, three days at the very least. A couple possibly sooner, but I’d caution you to wait. Lieutenant Vikis is in a very serious condition—I can’t give you an estimate for him, or even if he is likely to live. If the general survives tonight, then he should recover enough within a week to be able to tolerate travelling.” Kei refused to think of how he would feel if Arman died. He had to work in the here and now, and here and now, Arman was still alive.

“Well, Darshek want him sent north as fast as possible—we’ll use wagons, of course. Three are on their way from Ai-Rutej.” Tiko hesitated, and Kei used the delay to eat some more. He was starving, and the stew was wonderfully warm and good. “I know you want to go home, but do you mind delaying so you can travel with the wounded at least as far as Ai-Albon? I can’t really spare our medics, and they don’t have anything like your skill. It might make all the difference to the injured men’s survival.”

“No, I don’t mind. I’ve been gone all this time, a week hardly makes any difference.” Kei had yet to really fully appreciate he was such a short time away from being home again. He was too tired to be excited—so much had happened today, with the ambush, his aborted flight right into the arms of the waiting Darshianese soldiers, and then the swift bloody battle which had seen Arman and many of his men felled. Ai-Albon seemed as far away as ever. “Just tell me what’s happening with the war.”

Tiko frowned a little. “What do you know?”

“Nothing at all, other than the loss of communications with the north, and that the siege at Darshek is still ongoing.”

The captain grinned. “Oh the ‘siege’ will be going on for a good while yet. The only people it’s affecting are the Prij.”

“Huh?” Kei’s hand paused on its way to his mouth. “I don’t understand.”

Tiko tapped the side of his nose. “The Prij didn’t take anyone by surprise, and supplies were hardly disrupted. Darshek already had taken in extra stocks and then we made other arrangements.”

“The Andonese?”

“Exactly. They’ve been using a northwest route—longer and more dangerous, but one the Prij had overlooked or dismissed. They also sent us the men in arms to let us retake the interior. That’s why it all took so long—but the Rulers knew it was going to happen. The Prij are wasting time, resources and manpower in trying to block access from the sea, and good luck to them. They can send as many soldiers as they like over the pass too—we can close that any time we want.”

Kei was astonished. He hadn’t realised the Andonese would come to their aid militarily, but it made sense—the northern race had long-standing trade agreements with the Darshianese, and were at threat from the Prij too. They probably thought it better to stop the Prij advance in Darshian, rather at their own doorstep. “And the hostages? Will they be rescued?”

“I think they’re making plans but they wanted to free north Darshian before they moved on Kuprij—I’m not involved directly in the strategy, you understand. You can provide us with valuable information there—where are they being held?”

“All over Utuk, in households of the nobility. The last time I saw all of us together—” Kei stopped, grimacing as he remembered. “You know about the Ai-Vinri hostages?”

Tiko nodded. “Yes, very unfortunate—the second lot were removed two days before our forces took control of Tirko Pass and this fort. Ai-Vinri knew rescue was on its way, but there was nothing they could do without tipping our hand.”

Gods, what an irony—and on top of the even greater one, too. “I was there when they were executed. We were all rounded up. That was the last time I saw the others.”

“Damn vicious bastards,” Tiko spat. “And for what reason? Because one of the Prij couldn’t keep his cock in his trousers. Not that they care since it’s one of
our
women he raped.”