Kei's Gift (50 page)

“How much pain are you in?”

“A bit. But I don’t want that drug. Please don’t make me take it.”

Kei sat down next to the cot. “I won’t,” he said quietly, regretting his temper that morning. “But you need to relax—your stomach muscles are tensing and pulling on your wound and your leg. Don’t hold yourself so tight.”

Arman grunted, but there was no noticeable reduction in the rigidity of his body. Kei sat down at the side of the cot. “Relax,” he said gently, stroking Arman’s hand. He laid a hand on his forehead, feeling the cold sweat there, and then ran his fingers through the tangled, dirty mass of Arman’s hair. Something he would need to attend to—Arman hated to be dirty or untidy, and he could hardly groom himself just now. He searched in his pack for his own comb, and dragged it carefully through Arman’s hair, hoping the repetitive, gentle motion would soothe the injured man.

It worked, because Arman untensed somewhat, his eyes closing. His colour was still pale—he still needed careful watching. Kei was still concerned about the broken ribs and what damage they could do if he moved carelessly or was knocked about too much. There was always a possibility a slow bleed might start up even from the jolting. He didn’t want to wake up and find Arman had bled to death from a missed internal wound.

He wanted Arman to rest, and after not very long at all, was pleased to find his patient had fallen asleep. He kept up the hair combing a little longer, but then he judged it safe to spread out the bedroll to provide a warmer, softer surface to sleep on. He didn’t want to sleep, not yet. Instead he wrapped his cloak around him, set the lamp to low, and sat next to Arman’s cot, leaning on it, holding his hand.
Loke still doesn’t get to have you
.

~~~~~~~~

He woke with the sensation of being caressed, and for a moment, he thought he was home. “Reji?” he said drowsily.

“No,” he heard a regretful voice say, and that brought him back to himself. He looked up and found Arman, his hand still on Kei’s hair. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you. I couldn’t sleep.”

Kei sat up and pulled the hand away gently. “How do you feel?”

“Sore,” Arman admitted. “Thirsty, too.” His voice was husky and weak, but clear—he didn’t sound like a man bleeding to death. Kei found the water, and helped him to drink. “Gods, that’s cold,” he said, shivering. “I’m freezing, Kei.”

Kei stood and found the blankets Tiko had shoved through the opening of the canvas as he’d been wind-proofing the cart. “Let me check your bandages and then you can have these.” The bandages were dry, and Arman looked stable. “Do you need a painkiller or is it bearable?”

“It’s bearable.”

“Good, but tell me if it’s not.” He covered Arman with the extra blankets before sitting at his side again.

Arman put his hand back on Kei’s head, something he didn’t usually do, but Kei didn’t protest. He owed Arman a little comfort after the hellish day he must have had. “Wish you could sleep under here,” Arman said simply. “Still cold.”

“No room,” Kei said, but he slipped his hand under the blankets and found Arman’s colder one. “Just try to sleep.”

“You too.”

“Later.”

Arman pulled Kei’s head down onto his chest. “Now,” he whispered.

“Whatever you want, my lord,” Kei said, just to tease. He didn’t want to upset Arman by arguing, and in truth, this felt...not too bad. He would be stiff and sore tomorrow, but he could ride in the wagon—it might be a good idea for the next two days. He could endure—and perhaps he wouldn’t dream so much tonight. That would make up for the cold and the awkward position, at least for this one night.

~~~~~~~~

Someone was holding his hand. Why was someone holding his hand? Arman shifted his arm as he opened his eyes, and the slight movement immediately set up a ripple of aches and pains through his body, which was tiresome in the extreme. He tried to ignore it as he tried to see who had hold of him, but it was pitch dark in the wagon. He moved his other hand, which was hanging over the edge of the cot, and immediately it brushed across a familiar, smooth, warm head of hair.
Kei
. Of course, now he remembered—he’d come to stay in the wagon to give him a little heat and to make sure Arman was comfortable.

Arman had been confused by how Kei’s reactions had shifted during the day, from coldly impersonal, to impassioned and angry, to resigned, and then...last night, it was if they were friends again. It hurt to know this wasn’t really the case, that Kei would again remember Arman was withholding the one thing he wanted above all else, and they were, still and forever, enemies. Or at least, on opposite sides, which was the same thing now. He brushed his fingers again across Kei’s head, wondering how many more chances he would have to touch that soft, fine length. Or how long it would be before Kei would grow cold and hostile again. He couldn’t blame him for his reactions. It just...wasn’t what Arman wanted.

He heard the flap of the wagon cover being opened, and then a lamp was held in the opening. “Kei? Oh, you’re awake,” the captain said in an unfriendly tone to Arman, his eyes drifting to where Arman’s hand was resting, disapproval clear in his expression.

Arman poked Kei’s head gently to wake him up. Kei squirmed and muttered, “Go ‘way.”

The captain came up into the wagon a little way. “We need to get moving. Is he fit to travel?”

Kei sat up and rubbed his eyes. His grip on Arman’s hand had slackened and he didn’t seem to notice he’d been sleeping with one arm slung up over Arman. “Let me see—can you leave me that lamp?”

Tiko grunted and put the lamp on the floor. “Breakfast is being made. We’re moving in one hour, no more.” He backed out of the wagon, and the flaps were lowered again.

“Yes, my lord, whatever you say, my lord, go sit in a thurl’s nest, my lord,” Kei muttered irritably. He took the lamp and set it closer to Arman, then knelt beside him. “Let me check your bandages. How do you feel?”

“Better. Still sore.”

Kei nodded. “It’ll take a while. But you slept without the pijn?”

“Yes. You helped.”

Kei looked at him in surprise, and then flushed. “It’s just my job,” he said in a low voice. “Let me feed you and then I’ll change these. I need to check on everyone else. An hour isn’t enough, he knows that,” he grumbled.

“He wants to make good time. After all, you want to get the catch to the market in good time so it’s fresh.”

Kei gave him a sharp look. “I didn’t notice your soldiers exactly giving us much time to rest on the way south, general. And unlike you, we were on foot.”

“I’m not complaining,” Arman said mildly, regretting they were already in conflict. “I’m pointing out the reality of the situation. Your rulers want me there so they can either persuade or force me to cooperate, and hope to use me as a lever. I would do the same in their position.”

“They won’t force you,” Kei said, looking down at Arman’s bandages and lifting the edges.

“If I were them, I would certainly try.”

“Then we’re thankful you are not, for I wouldn’t want someone like that to govern me,” Kei said coldly as he stood. “I’ll ride in here today, I think. Will that disturb you?” Arman shook his head, not wanting to speak since Kei was already so irritated. “I’ll be back shortly.”

As Kei left the wagon, Arman sighed. He doubted the Rulers of Darshek were as idealistic as Kei. Very few people were, and none were politicians in his experience. He’d already resigned himself to the fact he might be questioned with a degree of physical persuasion that would upset Kei if he were to speculate aloud about it. He didn’t like using torture himself, and had never sanctioned it. Apart from the distastefulness of it and the viciousness it brought out in those practicing it, he’d never felt there was any point to information retrieved that way. But he was not in control of his fate anymore, and had been part of what had brought things to this pass, so he had no right to complain. He was just glad Kei would leaved their caravan before he got to Darshek. He didn’t want the kind healer’s illusions shattered more than they had been.

Kei had retrieved his amiable temper on his return and dealt with Arman’s needs with quiet efficiency. He persuaded Arman that taking the painkiller while they were moving would be the best thing for everyone, but agreed he didn’t need it at night if he continued to sleep well. It meant Arman slept most of the day’s journey away, waking only when Kei roused him to feed him or to allow him to relieve himself. He spent another surprisingly restful night, waking again to find Kei holding his hand. He finally believed the ache in his body might not be permanent. That, and Kei’s quiet presence, lifted his mood a good deal.

They arrived in Rutej before nightfall on the third day. Kei had been silent as he’d checked Arman’s condition on their arrival, before he announced he and the captain would be going into the village itself. He seemed about to say something else—Arman wondered if he wanted to make a fresh plea for him to help Jena and the others, and braced himself to give the inevitable refusal and receive Kei’s anger—but then he shook himself a little. “One of the soldiers will feed you and tend to you while I’m gone. I don’t know how long I’ll be.”

“As long as you want, I would say.”

Kei straightened. “Goodnight,” he said, with a touch of frost in his voice.

Now what had he said?

“Ever been to Ai-Rutej before?” Tiko said as they and five of his soldiers walked towards the village.

“No—we passed it of course, but they wouldn’t let us near anyone.” Kei was a little surprised children weren’t already running past them to see the new arrivals. The clan head must be keeping his people under control. He’d been dreading this all day—not just seeing Jena’s lover, but being in contact with hundreds of excited people all at once. He’d been assiduously doing his mental exercises while Arman slept over the past two days, and felt he was ready. It didn’t mean it would be enjoyable, however.

They were greeted at the edge of town by a small group of men. “Welcome, travellers—I’m Gyek, clan head of Ai-Rutej,” one of them said as he stepped forward.

“Greetings, Gyek. I’m Tiko of the Darshianese army. This is Kei, healer of Ai-Albon. One of the hostages, as you know.”

Gyek bowed slightly. “Yes, I know. Welcome, Kei. Your return to our people is cause for joy.”

Kei bowed in turn. “Gyek, I have word of your son, of Jena and the others for you and her family. Also Aldik, if he’s here.”

One of the other men stepped up to them. “I’m Aldik—you know how she is? Is she well?” he asked anxiously, taking Kei’s arm.

Kei wanted to brush his hand away, but he gritted his teeth and bore the contact. “Everyone’s well or were last time I saw them. If we can talk somewhere quietly?”

“Yes, of course,” Gyek said. “We’ll eat in my home. Tiko, you want provisions, I believe? I’ve had food and animal feed set aside, but is there anything else?”

Tiko glanced at Kei. “We have fifteen injured Prij soldiers, as I think you’re aware. Medical supplies if you can spare them would be helpful.”

“Of course,” Gyek said calmly. “Kei, if you’d tell us your needs, we can have all the supplies taken to your camp and then we can talk.”

As they walked back to the village, Kei now saw the curious faces of children at windows and people in doorways, watching. Gyek took them to the village storerooms and sent for men to carry the sacks and bags at Tiko’s soldiers’ command. While the stores were being distributed, Kei listed the things he needed.

“Aldik, would you ask Mara to come?” Gyek asked. “These are all her speciality.” Aldik nodded and left on the errand. Gyek turned to Kei. “Mara’s from Darshek—she was sent here to care for the village in Jena’s absence. Do you know her?”

Kei tried to recall if he’d met someone of that name. “No, I don’t think so.”

“Never mind. Tell me, how is Gonji? Has it been very hard? Were you treated well?”

“I saw Gonji over a month ago but he was well enough then, that’s all I know. Can we talk of this later, Gyek?” Kei said, trying to maintain politeness despite the curious stares he was getting from the men working on the stores, and the people who were beginning to hang around to watch. “It’s not a subject which I like to talk about in public.”

“My apologies, Kei. Of course. Ah, Mara, this is Kei of Ai-Albon.”

A woman of about Reji’s age had been standing behind Aldik but stepped forward to bow. “Welcome, Kei. Were you Keiji’s son?”

Did everyone in Darshian know who he was? “Yes, and Erte’s. Did you know them?”

“I corresponded with both of them—a great loss to medicine, the pair of them. What do you need?” Kei ran down his lists of requirements, and she nodded. “And the most seriously injured, they’re handling the travel?”

“We only have one who’s troublesome—General Arman. He’s—”

She hissed in a breath, her sudden fury catching Kei by surprise and almost taking his breath away. “The Butcher of Ai-Darbin? He’s with you?” she asked, her expression going hard. “You want these medicines for him?”

“Not just for him, but what difference does it—”