Kei's Gift (68 page)

Kei went to the kitchen and filled a pot to make tea. “So, was it awful? I could have sent her away, but...I thought it might be good for her.”

“It wasn’t awful, and yes, I agree. She’s a wonderful person. I can see why you love her.”

He smiled with obvious fondness. “She’s the best sister in the world, except when she’s in a temper—then she’s the most terrifying,” he add with a wry grin. “Thank you for that. I know...exposing your wounds in that way was painful...but—”

Arman held up his hand to forestall any further apology. “It’s all right. She isn’t the first of your race to call me to account and she certainly won’t be the last.”

“At least you made her think. It’s always a battle with her to get her to stop and listen, she has so many ideas of her own.”

Not like her brother, who is always ready to listen
. “She was telling me about Reji. She’s quite a devotee.”

“Oh, she’s had a crush on him since he came to live in the village. She wouldn’t believe me if I told her something, but if
Reji
did, well, then, it was an incontrovertible fact. She adores him, and it’s mutual. Was that all you talked about?”

“No—we talked about you, of course. She’s pretty devoted to you too.” Kei grinned. “We also talked about her visit to Darshek...I should tell you I’ve worked out the invasion wasn’t much of a surprise to most of you.”

Kei flushed. “Gods, I should have warned her to keep her mouth shut—please don’t tell Tiko you know. I don’t think it can do any harm but I’m not a military man, as he keeps telling me. You won’t use it, will you?” he asked, coming over to the table to look earnestly at Arman.

It wasn’t such a stupid question, since Kei would know if he was lying. Fortunately, he didn’t have to. “No, I won’t. I’m not likely to be in a position to do so and that’s the simple truth. But if, somehow, I’m returned to Kuprij, I won’t reveal what I’ve learned during my time here. I’ll treat it as a confidence—
unless
your people attack mine. Then all promises are void.”

Kei nodded. “That’s fair. Thank you.” He shook his head. “My family have the biggest mouths.” He went back to watch the pot of water.

“She’s an honest, open-hearted person like someone else I could name. There’s no shame in it.” Kei turned and gave him a smile for that. “How are you finding it...talking to people, I mean? Being with them?”

“Easier than I thought. Everyone’s so glad to see me back, and while there’s a lot of suspicion about you and anxiety, it’s muted enough that I can deal with it. It’s not like Ai-Darbin, or even Ai-Rutej. They were relieved earlier. They’ve had more time to adjust.”

“Yes, but you’re also further along in your recovery than you were when we went through those villages. At the risk of making you angry, I really think you might not be giving yourself a chance to settle back into your life now. I think you’ve improved enough that you can handle this—and when Reji returns, that will help.”

“It might, or it might not,” Kei muttered, bringing the boiling water to the table, and pouring it over dried ipo leaves and a few berries for flavour. He put the lid on the teapot and shook it to help it brew. “The experiment is giving uncertain results. Until I’m alone again, I don’t know if you’re right, and if you’re wrong, I’ll end up going to Darshek anyway, only this time it will take nearly four weeks instead of less than two, and I won’t have you to help at all.”

“True. It’s a risk. But if I
am
right, then you could be back with your family much sooner. You can’t deny that’s what you want.”

“No,” he said slowly, shaking the pot again, and then pouring out the tea into mugs. “More than anything, I want to be home and normal again. But...at the same time...I want to be with you a little longer, to see you’ll be safe. I would miss you,” he said in a low voice.

“It’s inevitable we’ll part,” Arman said gently. “Whether now or in two weeks...your life is here, and my fate lies in the hands of your Rulers. It wasn’t fate that brought us into contact, it was an act of war, and once the war is finished, then you and I must follow our own paths.”

“Yes, I know.” Kei stared into the red liquid in the mug he held. “But two weeks makes no difference to the village—Teki can stay a little longer, and they have Myka. I have to do this. Our paths are still entwined, and even if I felt completely confident I was healed, I would still want to do this.” He lifted his gaze to Arman’s. “Won’t you let me?”

“Kei, as you wish, as always. But now...you must have other people to see.”

He nodded. “In a while. Everyone’s busy—there’s a lot of work to do since things were neglected for so long, and the winter crops are ready to be picked. I could go see how annoying Tiko is managing to make himself, but I can do that when I go begging for our lunch.”

Arman looked around the little room and its tiny kitchen. “Reji doesn’t cook?”

“Oh, he does—but he’s so popular people would rather he came to them to be fed. He’s away so much that no one minds when he’s here, and he always has news and gossip or some tall tale to tell.”

Kei’s eyes were soft with affection as he spoke of his lover. Arman wasn’t sure he wanted to ever meet this paragon. He sipped his tea and considered how little time was left for his friendship with Kei. Four days to Beyto, three to Kislik—and then Darshek three or four days after that. All he could do was to try and make that time a happy one for Kei, one to look back on with some fondness—something to balance the pain of his weeks in Utuk. How would he describe his time as a hostage to his nieces and nephews, to the children of friends, he wondered? Would it be something he would want to avoid talking about, or would he be proud of his part in freeing his country?

“You’re very thoughtful again,” Kei said with a smile. “Always so serious, Arman.”

“It’s not what Karus used to say about me—”

There was a knock at the door. With a sign, Kei got up. “If this is Myka again....” He opened the door, and greeted his visitor in surprise. “Father? Come in, please.” The grey-haired, weathered-looking man whom Arman remembered even from his first encounter, stepped through the door, a frown on his face. He ignored Arman entirely. “Would you like some tea?” Kei asked.

“I haven’t time for that. I need to speak to you. Your sister has put me in an awkward position, you realise, and it’s all your fault.”

“Mine? But...is this about the ceremony?”

“It’s about
him
,” Kei’s father said, jerking his head at Arman. “What were you thinking to let her talk to him?”

Kei’s eyebrows lifted a little in surprise. “I didn’t know that was forbidden, father, and since she wanted to, I couldn’t see the harm. But what’s the problem? We’re leaving tomorrow, as you know.”

“The
problem
is your sister has prettily reminded me that by custom, weddings are open to all the clan and all those enjoying the hospitality of the clan. Which, she insists for reasons that yet escape me, should even include those who have been nothing but a ruthless enemy to the village and everyone and everything dear to it.”

“She...wants the general to come?” Kei glanced at Arman, who carefully didn’t react at all, sensing this was a very tricky moment for father and son. “Why?”

“Some stupidity about him being a friend of yours. What are you doing filling her head with nonsense like that?”

Kei drew himself up to his full height. “General Arman
is
a friend of mine, father.”

The clan head snorted. “Oh, don’t be a fool, lad. He’s a prisoner being taken to Darshek, and an enemy of all of us. My only concern is not upsetting your sister on her wedding day. I want you to talk to her. Clan hospitality doesn’t have to be stretched so far and you and I know it.”

“Do I, father?” Kei said frostily. “And what about the soldiers? They can’t come if the general doesn’t—your failure to extend a welcome to him denies hospitality to those we ask to defend us. If I were Tiko and his men, I’d be rather insulted by that.”

Kei’s father wasn’t an unreasonable man, and the gods knew Arman could definitely see his point. He wished Kei would drop it, but he knew from past experience that when the young healer got the bit between his teeth, there was no reasoning with him.

“What are you trying to push here? You know what people will say, how it will upset them.”

“Yes, I do know that, father. I can point that out to Myka as well as you can, and I imagine you know what her reaction will be.” Both men shared a slightly rueful look—they’d clearly tried to argue Kei’s sister out of things before. “But what I won’t do is lie to her and pretend General Arman is exempt from our rules of hospitality which, before now, you’ve always treated as if they were bound law. He’s not, whatever he did or has happened in the past.”

“And the fact your cousin is still in Prijian hands makes no difference to you?”

“Father,
I
was in Prijian hands too. No one has more reason to hate or fear them more than I do. I don’t happen to hate or fear General Arman, but even if I did, my answer would be the same. As clan head, your word is law. But if your law is arbitrary, then who will respect it?”

Kei’s father shook his head in disgust. “I should have done like Fejsik in Ai-Vinri and banned him before he ever entered the village. You, there, general—what right have you to come to my daughter’s wedding and share in her happiness?”

The man scowled at Arman, and behind him, Kei winced and rubbed his chest. “None, sir, and I understand your position. I wouldn’t offer me hospitality either.”

“So you’re saying I’m no better than you, is that it?”

Gods.
“No, I’m not. You have to do what’s best for your people. I’m grateful for the kindness I’ve received from your clan and your village.”

The clan head grunted, and turned to Kei. “It’ll cause trouble. Feelings are running high, you know that.”

“None more than me, actually,” Kei said, still rubbing his chest a little. “But people aren’t as agitated as you think, and perhaps it’s no bad thing for them to see the great golden general is just a man like any other.”

Arman cleared his throat. “If I may—could I not plead my injury to offer a way out of this?”

The clan head’s expression became hopeful, but Kei shook his head. “Myka won’t believe that—she’s seen you with her own eyes. Father, it’s not as if she’s asked him to dance in the square. The less that’s made of this, the less people will care. It’s the general who really will suffer from being the subject of so much speculation,” he added with an apologetic glance at Arman.

“But I wouldn’t insult hospitality so graciously offered by refusing it for that reason,” Arman said, inwardly amused by the irony of that hospitality being as unwelcome to its recipient as it was painful to the giver.

“Very well. I’ll be damned if the Prij are going to make me look unjust. You can come,” Kei’s father said dismissively. “Don’t cause offence by word or deed or the same justice which forces me to treat you equally in this will descend hard on you.”

“I won’t, sir. Thank you,” Arman said as politely as he could, considering the rudeness of the offer.

The clan head looked unimpressed by his effort. “Kei, you’re not serious when you say this man is a friend, I hope. You’ll cause bad feeling here, and suspicion. None of us want anything to do with the Prij.”

“I
am
serious, father. I know what people think and I don’t blame them. But other people aren’t me.” Kei faced his father calmly, and only because Arman now knew him so well, could he tell how distressed Kei was by his father’s hostility. “The general has shown me a great deal of kindness, has put himself to trouble and to risk not just for me but all our people, and, I think, has shown true regret for his actions. I would be proud to call anyone like that a friend—I don’t care what race they are. He’s a good man, and a decent one.”

Kei’s father snorted again. “You’re so much like Erte it’s like she somehow managed to get herself reborn as you. I hope you appreciate what a supporter you have, general.”

“I do indeed, sir. I’m also proud to call Kei a friend, however much that may offend you to hear.”

“It doesn’t offend me as much as it worries me, because my son has to return to this village when you’re gone, and live with the consequences which you do not. Kei—did your mother ever tell you about the pet jombeker we had when she was little?”

Kei seemed a little nonplussed by the abrupt change of subject. “No...why do you mention it?”

“Because the way you spoke for the general reminded me of that. When Erte was, oh, I think no more than four—I was seven, I recall—Pa took a sickly jombeker in to hand rear because its mother had rejected it. Now, this is normal, as I’m sure you know, and you also know what male jombekers are kept for. Pa wasn’t a cruel man and he didn’t encourage Erte to feed the thing or get attached to it, but yet she did. Well, you can guess how she reacted when Pa decided we could do with the meat and took it out to cut its throat. She clung to it, pleaded for its life, told Pa the poor thing had never done anyone any harm. It was piteous to hear her, it really was. Pa could never resist Erte’s tears, so he gave in and told her she could have it as a pet if she wanted it so badly.”