If Kei could find a treatment for bej, then he could redress at least a little of that cruel loss, but he was no closer to an answer than his father had been, for all he’d puzzled over it on and off for years. It was a capricious and deadly disease. A baby might survive it, a grown man in the fullness of his powers, such as his father, might be dead in two days. It struck without warning, wasn’t infectious the way common diseases such as colds were, and no herb or drug known in Darshian affected it. All a healer could do was try to alleviate the excruciating pain and fevers, and hope the patient’s body would not fail. His mother had known that, but even so, her grief and guilt had overcome her duty to her children and her clan.
Kei shook his head. Dwelling on this did no one any good. He bent to his father’s notes again, extracting his own from the neatly written pages. As he glowered at some symbol his father had used which he didn’t recognise, a ball of flame appeared under his nose. He reared back in shock, scrubbing at his face, though he hadn’t been burned in the least.
“Did I frighten you?” a lazy voice drawled from the doorway.
“You know you did,” Kei said crossly, but couldn’t hold back a broad smile as he turned and saw Reji, all dusty and travel stained, his hand still outstretched from having evoked his little flame sprite. “You’re back sooner than expected.”
“Yes, I know. And I’m badly in need a drink.”
Kei got off his stool and walked over. His handsome visitor immediately enveloped him in a crushing hug and kissed him, thrusting his tongue without any invitation into Kei’s mouth. Kei grinned and met the challenge, rubbing himself against Reji’s hard, lean body. “Hmmm, just a drink?” he said, arching an eyebrow.
Reji kissed him again. “Maybe...for now, healer. But later, I might need your help.”
“Oh? For a medical condition?”
“Yes. I have this really hard....”
“Hard...?” Kei murmured, teasing Reji’s nipple through his shirt.
Reji’s voice cracked. “Leg.”
“Oh. Your...leg. And what might your...leg...need?”
Reji cleared his throat, but his voice was still a little hoarse. “A rub...might need a rub...later.”
The way Reji ground against him, ‘later’ might not be all that long. His lack of control amused Kei no end. It had been two months since they’d seen each other, and while he had no doubt Reji had taken his pleasure where he could in Darshek, his friend’s lustiness needed the edge taken off it after over three weeks on the road. He nudged Reji’s thighs apart with his knee, and slid his leg up inside Reji’s, pressing against his groin. “I don’t just rub legs,” he said huskily.
“Gods, stop or I’ll embarrass myself.”
“Not just him,” Kei heard someone say in a dry tone. “Reji, you have no sense of propriety in the least.” Myka came over to stand in front of them, and Reji abruptly abandoned Kei’s so his little sister could be kissed enthusiastically, and hardly more appropriately. “You stink, Rei-ki.”
“Ha, and so would you, Mychichi, if you had been on an urs beast’s back these three and a half weeks past. My balls feel like they’re made of wood, they’ve been banged about in the saddle for so long.”
She smacked him for the indelicacy, gave him another kiss, and then stood back to look at them. “A meal and a drink, then? Kei, I bet you missed lunch.”
“I was just—”
“Buried in Pa’s notes again, yes, I know.” She sighed. “Come and eat, you two.”
The three of them prepared an early supper, Reji confessing he’d not eaten since breakfast and that he felt quite hollow. Myka plied him with bread and cheese and plenty of beer, which made him tipsy and even more relaxed. Kei idly wondered if Reji would be up tonight for more than a bit of companionable fumbling and cuddling, which was very nice in itself, although he had to admit his body could do with the release of more strenuous activity. It had been a busy couple of months, what with the kiln explosion, and then there had been an outbreak of lung fever, not to mention two births and a host of injuries and minor illnesses among the children of the clan.
“How is Misek?” he asked Myka.
“Very low, Kei. I’m still worried about him.”
Reji glanced at Kei. “Ah, yes, Fedor told me about the accident. These are the injuries he got when Ban was killed? Does he feel guilty about that, perhaps?”
Kei shook his head. “Not really. He’s been in a lot of pain, especially from his eye, but I haven’t let him have as much pijn as he could have. I don’t want him addicted. I think it’s just everything, the severity of his injuries, Ban dying.... He hasn’t been able to help rebuild things. At least Banji’s had that to occupy himself.”
Reji nodded. “I can see it would frustrate him. Perhaps I’ll visit him tomorrow.”
Myka set a bowl of gike plums in front of them. “I think that would be good, Reji. So, what news from Darshek? Did you bring our medicines? And the journals?”
He laughed and held up his hands. “All safe, Mychichi.” He got to his feet a little unsteadily, and went to the front door of the house where several large packs were tidily stacked. Kei helped him drag them over to the table where Myka, eager to get her letters and the new ointments, rapidly unpacked them. “You know, I spent three hours unloading and settling accounts, and then all I could think of was who made the best beer in Ai-Albon. If your esteemed father hadn’t kept me so long wanting to know the latest gossip, I’d have been here an hour earlier.”
Kei still had to remind himself not to correct people who referred to his uncle as his ‘father’. Strictly speaking, it was true now, but he couldn’t even bring himself to call Fedor ‘Pa’ to his face. Nothing would ever stop the unpleasant jolt when people referred to his father and didn’t mean the man Kei had loved, honoured and still grieved for.
“Never mind Fedor,” Myka said impatiently. “What’s happening in Darshek?”
Reji sprawled in his seat, his long legs stretched out under Kei’s chair. “Well, the big news is that Lady Nera is finally pregnant.”
Myka’s eyes grew big. “Really? Oh that’s wonderful. It’s been so long, I thought perhaps she was infertile after all.”
“Or her husband was,” Kei pointed out. Being an infertile himself, he found it hard to rejoice overmuch at other people’s fortune in that respect. Still, it was good news.
“I also heard there are whispers of an army build up in Urshek again,” Reji said, his expression solemn. “It’s got people worried.”
Myka looked at Kei, and reached for his hand. “Perhaps the southern clans are restless again. They won’t come across the mountains. They would have done it by now, if they could.”
“Perhaps not, Mychichi. It’s not like we can stop them if they do get across. The cannons of Darshek are all aimed towards the sea, “ Reji pointed out somewhat sourly.
Kei didn’t want to think about the Prij, because thinking would make him anxious. “If they didn’t, they would still be no use, and there is no sense in worrying if there is nothing we can do,” he said, reaching across and topping up Reji’s cup. He went to pick up one of the satchels which held letters and the latest writings from the masters in Darshek, but snatched his hand back as it was slapped. “Ow, Myka! What was that for?”
“You’ve had your head buried in books long enough,” his sister scolded, wagging a finger at him. “Why don’t you walk Reji home? I could do with some peace and quiet.”
Kei nearly rolled his eyes at Myka’s unsubtle matchmaking. As if she ever had to encourage Kei to spend time with Reji, especially after he got back from a trading trip. “Maybe Reji’s comfortable where he is. He hasn’t finished his beer, after all.”
She got up, picked up their cups, filled them to nearly overflowing and walked to the front door, holding the cups out like bait. “Come take your beer, and then you and Reji can have a nice evening catching up with each other while I read my letters, wash my hair, and have some time to myself.”
> Reji lifted an eyebrow. “Do you get the sense of being unwanted, lover?”
“A mere suspicion, my friend. A gentle hint, nothing more. Perhaps we should ignore it. It might go away.”
“Kei! Do you want to be wearing this ale?”
“Now, now, Mychichi, that would be a terrible waste of your finest brewing,” Kei said, grinning as he hauled Reji to his feet. Reji immediately put his arm around his waist. “What do you say, Reji? It’s pretty irresponsible of a brother and a healer to leave his sister all on her own.”
“I think you’re pushing to smell like a brewing vat.” Reji tugged him to the door, picked up his saddle bags over one arm, and collected his cup with the other, somehow managing to contrive a deep, courtly bow without spilling a drop. “Thank you, lady Myka, for your good drink and kind company.”
There was enough sincerity in his words to wring a blush from Myka, and she smiled as he kissed her cheek. “And I don’t expect you back tonight, Kei.”
“No, my lady Myka,” he said with an even deeper bow, and then a brotherly kiss on her cheek, before he collected his own drink, and took a swallow from it to stop it spilling. “Should I stop in and see Misek?”
She hesitated. “Perhaps tomorrow. Banji was with him when I left.”
“Banji was helping or making it worse?”
“Um, better, I think. I think Misek was being brave for him, and I think that was good.”
“Well, you know him best. If you need me, you know where to find me.” He pulled her close briefly. “And if you need me to come back tonight, I will,” he whispered.
“You’ll be at the end of the street and I’m eighteen years old!”
He grinned. No point in pushing it, or, as Reji said, he would shortly smell of beer. “Come on, Reji. The gods only know what perverted things she’s planning to do in our absence, but I suppose if I’m not here to be scandalised—”
“I’ll take a broom to you!”
She actually laid hands on the besom before Reji hastily shoved the door open and dragged a laughing Kei outside. “She’s got a temper on her, I don’t know who she got that from. Your parents were so mild-mannered.”
“Oh, Ma had a temper in her too when she got really worked up. She just picked her battles.”
Reji lit a small fire sprite to guide their way. People were mostly inside, setting down to their own suppers, the smell of cooking fires and food heavy in the evening air, the low calls of the urs beasts settling down in their pens, and the harsh cries of the krak-krak birds over the trees as they flew down to roost, the only sounds in the village.
“Have Rin’s family rebuilt?” Reji asked quietly. His concern was natural. Rin was well-liked, and his family brought a steady income into the village, although the ore was little use directly to the village itself.
“They’ve started. It was one of the lesser kilns, one they were thinking of knocking apart and rebuilding anyway. Meis originally thought it was kisu contamination, but now Rin believes the kiln was ready to give out. If any one blames himself for Ban’s death, it’s Rin.”
“It’s ill luck. This talk of blame gets no one anywhere,” Reji said with some impatience.
“People can’t help it,” Kei said, stepping through Reji’s front door into his small house. It seemed scarcely big enough to hold such a tall and brawny man, but Reji always said it suited him fine. Kei took their cups of beer and set them on the small table. “Someone they love dies or get hurt, of course they feel guilty.”
Reji took Kei into his strong arms, and Kei nestled against him. He’d missed the feel of Reji against him, the way his long, dark hair felt under his fingers, how they fit together, two tall men almost of the same height, hip to hip and firm thigh to thigh. “Yes, and then two people I care very much about are left without their parents, for no good reason I’ve ever been able to see.”
Kei pushed him away a little. “Ma was sick. Sick in mind and heart and she had no healer but me to help. I should have been here, don’t blame her. I don’t want to listen to this again.”
Reji sighed. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.” He pulled Kei close and pressed a kiss on his forehead. “Sorry, little brother.”
“Huh, not so much with the ‘little’, you big oaf. You know, Myka was right about one thing.”
“Oh yes?” Reji asked, slipping his hands up inside Kei’s shirt, making him shiver.
“You do stink,” he said, grinning, ducking away from Reji’s grasping hands. “We could wash each other’s backs.”
“Maybe I want to bathe alone, since I’m so offensive,” Reji said, his quirked mouth making a liar of his tone.
Kei insinuated himself close again and looked soulfully into Reji’s eyes. “Would you deny me this little pleasure, Rei-ki? I mean, it’s been two months since I was able to run my hands here,” he slid his hand up under Reji’s shirt and along the fine skin over his ribs, “or touch you this way,” his other hand cupped Reji’s groin carefully, applying a little pressure, “or lick your—”
“Enough!” Reji growled as he crushed his mouth on Kei’s and kissed him hungrily. “Gods, were you always this infuriatingly desirable, or have you been practicing?”
“Just...ah...missing you...oh, yes, do that again....”
And then Kei gave up teasing, because he needed to concentrate on the wonderful things Reji was doing with his mouth and his hands, and talking was by no means what he wanted to be doing for the next few hours with his lover.
Chapter : Darshian 4
“The winds are with us, Arman. A good omen,” Jozo said, coming to the rail of the ship.
“That it is. I hope the weather holds until we cross the mountains.”
“I hope this blasted secret route is as good as the mapmakers claim,” Jozo replied, his lips pursed. “I don’t fancy being on top of an urs beast on a mountain pass if there’s a rock slide.”
“Trust in the gods, Jozo,” Arman said calmly, slightly amused by Jozo’s anxiety. Jozo far preferred to travel by boat or on foot to riding an urs beast, disliking the hairy animals intensely—but there was no doubt they were supremely well adapted for the Darshian terrain. The smaller, lighter jesigs were fine on Kuplik and the rest of Kuprij, but would make heavy going of the sand and long mountain passes. Arman rode either as and when they were needed, and rather enjoyed the higher seat and rocking motion of the beasts. They made an imposing impression en masse, which was often useful in suppressing rebellion.
“I’d rather trust in decent maps.” Arman frowned at his impiety, even though he too, like any decent military man, wanted good intelligence and maps to guide him as much the will of the gods. “I hope those idiots in Urshek have the supplies right this time. We can’t go scampering back there from mid-Darshian because they haven’t calculated the weight of lem flour properly. Morale is going to be hard enough on this campaign as it is without the men going hungry.”
“We’ve spent months on this. Ritus will have impressed on the granary merchants the importance of the task to Her Serenity.”
Jozo barked out a laugh. “And if that doesn’t put the fear of the gods into them, nothing will.”
“General Jozo? Sei General Arman?”
Arman turned and saw his staff sergeant waiting politely. “What is it, Staff?”
“The priest is ready for the sacrifice, and begs your attendance on the quarter deck.”
Arman nodded, and the staff sergeant left. Jozo groaned. “Ugh, the smell of burning blood always makes me want to vomit. Maybe I’ll go join Loke and his bucket.”
Arman grinned and clasped his fellow general’s shoulder firmly. “I thought you were made of sterner stuff. That’s not much of an example to set the men.”
“Half of them are puking too. Why aren’t generals allowed to be sea sick?”
“Because it would harm the dignity of the crown, that’s why. Come on.”
Their troops and most of the ship’s crew were assembled on the deck, where the ship
’s captain waited with the elderly priest for Jozo and Arman to join them. They took their place behind the priest on the poop deck behind his portable altar, and waited for him to begin.
The priest lifted his hands to the sky, and spoke in a high, quavering voice. “Lord Niko, ruler of the heavens, we ask your blessing on this mighty venture, so your people may spread the glory of your name, and crush the ignorant.”
Arman winced as the man’s voice cracked unpleasantly on the last words, and hoped the gods would not take offence.
Rather more certain in his actions than in his voice, the priest took a black feathered fowl from the basket next to him, and, holding it over the brazier, slit its throat neatly, the blood hitting the coals with a sizzle and a sickening stench. The dying bird struggled briefly, then was still. The priest dipped his finger into a bowl of sacred oil sitting on the altar and smeared it along the cut in the bird’s neck, before nodding to the three military leaders, who came closer and knelt in front of him, heads bowed. “Bear the mark of this offering to Lord Niko, and let your deeds be also an offering to him, so that he will bless and guide them,” he said to each in turn, using his thumb to make a bloody smudge on their foreheads.
Arman murmured, “May he bless them,” as he received the mark.
They remained kneeling as the priest cast the corpse of the fowl across the railing, into the water. “Lord Quek, ruler of the seas, also bless this endeavour for the glory of your brother Niko, and all the gods. Preserve this ship from harm.”
The sailors among the assembled men quietly chanted the name of the god Quek, needing a special contract with him since their very lives routinely depended on his mercy. The priest muttered a few more prayers and then doused the brazier with the last of the oil, making it flare up and spatter, clouds of acrid smoke briefly billowing up, before he quenched the fire with a dipper of water.
Kei's Gift Page 4
