Kei's Gift (71 page)

If Reji were not in Darshek, and Kei not very likely to meet up with him there, Arman would try harder to persuade him, perhaps even appeal to Fedor over Kei’s head to try and get his friend to stay. As it was, there would only be an unfortunate but not tragic delay to Kei returning to a normal life, although Arman still regretted it.

Fedor and his wife—so Arman assumed—were near to them now. Kei called to them and Fedor nodded, but came no closer. “Don’t push,” Arman hissed as Kei seemed intent on bringing them over. “The man’s done enough.”

“I just wanted my aunt to meet you.”

Arman tugged hard on Kei’s coat. “Don’t,” he repeated. “Don’t go too far, please.”

Kei gave him a wry look. “Getting carried away, am I?”

“Just a bit.” Misek was talking with a young woman and Kei and Arman were alone briefly. “There’s no equivalent ceremony for same sex couples?” There wasn’t any such thing in Prijian culture, but the Darshianese were so much more practical and open, so he had to wonder.

“No, there isn’t, nor for infertiles like me. Marriage is mainly seen as a way of ensuring the stability of a family unit for children, a commitment to raising them with each other. There’s no need for us to be wed,” Kei explained.

Arman detected a tinge of resentment in his tone. “And can infertiles not adopt?”

“Oh yes, they can, and should they have a lover of either sex, they can be named as an adoptive parent. There’s no ceremony, just documents. It’s very rare though—there’s usually a married relative with children who will take orphaned children in. No, it’s a carefree life for the likes of me. No wife, no children, no need to divorce if my lover ceases to please me. Who could want for more?”

Although Arman had had hints the inability to father a child wore hard on Kei, he’d never suspected this degree of bitterness. “I’m not really in a position to sing the praises of wedded bliss,” he said mildly.

Kei collected himself. “Gods, listen to me, as if it’s anyone’s fault I can’t have children. Banji! Myka!” He waved the young couple over, his dark mood apparently forgotten.

Myka was all smiles—she looked radiant and pretty and very much in love—and able to have all that was denied to Kei by pure accident. Arman knew what it felt like to be excluded from ordinary happiness by circumstance. Still, he greeted his friend’s sister warmly. “Congratulations, Myka.”

“Thank you, Arman.” She pulled her young man forward. “This is Banji. Banji-Ki, this is the—”

“I know who he is,” her husband said quietly, giving Arman a piercing look. “Come on, Ma’s calling us.” He tugged on Myka’s arm, and his wife had little choice but to follow. She threw a look back at Kei and Arman as in apology, but then the throng swallowed them up.

“Sorry about that,” Kei said, crouching down beside Arman’s chair again. “It’s not that Banji hates you, it’s his family—Meis really wants you to leave.”

Depressing to be the cause of bad feeling at this happy occasion. “It’s the best thing for all concerned, really. Could I possibly go back? I’ve served politeness and honour long enough.” Although he should be used to it by now, he was tired of being slighted over and over, and it upset Kei to see it.

Kei stood and picked up his lamp. “Of course. Do you think you can manage with just me?”

“I’ll be fine. Why don’t you ask Tiko?”

“Because he’s busy and we can slip away without him. Come on.”

With Kei’s help, he got onto his crutches, and they moved slowly along the edge of the crowd, Kei politely acknowledging his friends while making it clear he couldn’t stop. It took them a good five minutes to get out of the square, but after that, he was back at the house in short order. Kei helped him into a chair and put the lamp on the table. “I’ll run back and tell Tiko where I’ve gone and say goodnight to Myka, then I’ll be back.”

Arman caught his sleeve. “There’s no hurry. Go back and enjoy yourself.”

“No, I want to come back. I’ve done my bit.”

Arman watched him go in exasperation. Spoiling this celebration for Kei was precisely what he hadn’t wanted. His sister would only be married once, most likely, and Kei was missing out on it. He said as much when Kei returned a few minutes later, but his friend didn’t agree. “The main thing was speaking for Myka. There’ll be other celebrations, and right now, it’s an effort to not be overwhelmed even with everyone being happy. I’m sorry you had a rotten time. We’re not usually this rude to visitors.”

“I’m hardly just a visitor. Don’t worry, the good name of your clan remains untarnished.”

Kei shrugged, and then began rooting around in the kitchen. “I forgot to get something for supper—it’s going to be whatever’s in the larder, the rest of the bread and some honey. Oh, there’s still a little butter—you have that, it’s good for you.”

“Kei.”

“What?”

“Are you all right?”

“I’m fine.”

“Kei?”

“What, Arman?”

Arman folded his arms and looked sternly at him. “You’re a dreadful liar, you know.”

Kei stood up, holding a small pot. “I am fine, really.” He put the pot down on the table. “It’s just things being dangled in front of me I can’t have. Again. It’s a very small problem compared to everything else.” He looked in the cupboards again, resolutely ignoring Arman’s concern.

When he came back to the table and put his finds down, Arman took hold of his wrist. “Would it help to stay? It’s not too late, you know that.”

Kei sat down. “No,” he said gently. “This isn’t to do with...the damage.... This is something I’ve had to deal with all my life.” He gave Arman a sad smile. “Right now, there’s an element of wishing my older friends would accept my new one, but we can’t help that.”

“I don’t belong to your life. You should concentrate on how you’ll return here.” Kei only shrugged at this advice. “Is there really no hope you could be fertile?”

Kei freed himself to slice the bread. “None. And it’s not such a problem, only when I get reminded of it. I love children. I’d love to have a son or daughter of my own. But infertility isn’t restricted to those with gifts, and it’s perfectly possible to be happy without offspring. Reji definitely prefers it this way.”

Arman wondered if Reji knew how Kei felt on the subject. “It’s ironic—I’m indifferent on the subject of fatherhood, but my balls have been certified as perfect by the Temple of Isik itself.”

“I beg your pardon?” Kei asked, pausing as he cut the bread, his mouth open in shock.

“When Prijian children enter puberty, they’re taken to the Temple and the priests conduct elaborate tests involving sacrificing fowls and covering them with salt and rather a lot of disgusting herbs to determine if the child is fertile is not. If they are not, then the parents can either pray to Isik and hope for a change of heart, which usually comes with a lot of bribes passed to the priests, or they can accept their child is never going to marry and they’re usually sent to serve in the temple. Unfortunately, I was found to be emphatically fertile—now I really wish I’d been less manly.”

Kei was still gaping. “You’re surely joking.”

“No. I still have my certificate in the house.”

“Arman, of all the stupid, primitive, superstitious load of urs shit I’ve ever heard about the Prij, that is the worst. How can priests tell if a child is fertile by sacrificing a fowl?”

Secretly pleased at having distracted Kei from his gloom, Arman pretended to be puzzled. “You mean you can’t? Are you sure? We’ve been doing it a long time.”

“It’s...it’s...words fail me! Gods, how do you people get through a normal day believing such...such utter
shit
?”

“This is my religion and culture you’re being so incredibly rude about, healer. And after you were apologising for your friends.... How can I defend myself against such blatant prejudice?”

“Pre.... Look, there’s religion and then there’s something so idiotic that—” Kei’s eyes narrowed suspiciously. “You don’t believe it either, do you?”

“No, I don’t think I did even at the time,” he said calmly, stealing a gren nut.

“You’re
such
a bastard.”

“Not technically, but I think I get the idea.” He grinned at Kei. “Most people know it’s just the Temple making a lot of money out of their anxieties, but it’s so ingrained they still go through with the farce anyway. No one would marry someone without a fertility certificate—it’s too risky if your family depends on successful breeding, like mine. Of course, you can’t stop your fields being ploughed by strangers, but I can’t say I care.”

Kei shook his head. “And you call us barbarians.”

“Not lately,” Arman said peaceably, taking some of the bread and smearing it with the honey. People ate well here—they managed their resources carefully and the apparently dry and unfriendly landscape was actually anything but. It needed skill and long knowledge to coax a land like this to give up its fruits, but just because it lacked the green lushness of the south, didn’t mean it wasn’t rich in its own way. The Prij would never have successfully colonised this land, not with their arrogant belief the Darshianese had nothing to teach them.

They ate in companionable silence and managed a reasonable meal from what Kei had scrounged. Arman yawned. “We better go to bed. I imagine Tiko will want us up at dawn.”

“He can want all he wants, but I saw the beer he was putting away and he’s not as young as he thinks he is. We’ll be up when we’re up—Myka will come after me with an axe if I fail to say goodbye and if Tiko thinks I’m waking up newlyweds at dawn after their wedding night, he’ll have to get used to disappointment.” Kei laid a hand on his arm. “Thank you. Reji does this for me when I get grumpy.”

“It’s no trouble, my friend. But I’d still like to go to bed.” Was he glad to resemble Reji in this matter? He tried to tell himself it was good Reji would be there to cheer Kei out of his rare bad moods. It was what Kei needed.

Reji was
all
he needed. Arman needed to remember that.

Tiko wasn’t too bothered about their late start—since Kei had had to find
him
and roust him out of bed, it would have been foolish of him to complain. It was mid-morning before the beasts were loaded and they were ready to depart. Arman suggested to Tiko that since he was so improved physically, they would be able to hasten their journey even further by omitting the day-long rests in Beyto and Kislik. Kei agreed, but Arman couldn’t help noticing his expression grew briefly sad before his sister arrived with their father to say farewell and he put a smile on his face to welcome them.

The rest of the villagers were going about their business—the only other people with Myka and Fedor were her husband and his brother, Misek. Arman was glad to face these people on his feet for a change even if he did have to lean on crutches, and to wear proper clothing for the first time in weeks. Kei embraced his friends and relatives warmly, and wiped away a tear from Myka’s face, speaking to her in a low voice, while her men folk stared at Arman with a mixture of hostility and curiosity. Fedor clasped Tiko’s hand. “You make sure he comes back safely.”

“I’ll get him to Darshek. Kei will be back in six weeks, or I’ll want to know the reason why.”

Kei pulled a face. “Tiko, are you trying to be my father or my mother? Father, it’s not like I’ve never been away at all before—I was even younger last time I left to go to Darshek.”

“I know, my boy. But when we’re feeling the losses of the others, each additional one hurts us,” Fedor said, shooting a poisonous look at Arman. “You, general—you better be able to do as you promise.”

“I’ll do all I have promised, sir, but whether it will be enough, I can’t predict. Please accept my apologies for my past actions and that of my country. I regret it, and will work for however long it takes to repair the harm done. You have my word as a general, and on my honour.”

Fedor grunted, but he seemed a little surprised at the sincere declaration. “We’ll have to see what your honour is worth then. Farewell, Kei—you go with my blessing and our love,” he added gently, placing his hand on Kei’s shoulder.

“Thank you, father,” Kei said in a quiet voice. It took a few moments for him to recover, then he shook himself. “Right—Banji-ki, you remember even baby-making doesn’t need to be undertaken every hour of the day, won’t you?” His friend aimed an outraged cuff at him but Kei ducked it easily. “And Mis? See they behave like proper young married people while I’m gone—and don’t forget I hope I’ll be dancing at your wedding one day soon.”

“We’ll see, Kei,” Misek said. “Go on, the day’s wasting, and I want to see this cart of yours in action.”

“Right you are,” Tiko said, giving the order for Arman’s chair to be loaded. It was a disadvantage of the design that he couldn’t get in or out of the cart without assistance unless he had two good legs. The only other way into the back of it was from the driver’s seat and he was a long way from being able to climb up into the front at all, let alone without help. Still, he’d told them to leave off the oilskin cover, intending to rely on his heavy cloak for warmth, so he felt less like an elderly matron being carried about from door to door. He’d have liked to have had full control of a beast again, but this entire journey was making him draw on reserves of patience within himself he’d never suspected. He’d endure this small humiliation as he had endured the larger ones and hope the price was worth it.