~~~~~~~~
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?
Chapter : Return to Darshian 4
“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 alread
y 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—”
“I’ll not give you medical supplies to treat that man,” she snapped. “Are you travelling with them to keep that bastard alive?”
“Mara!” Gyek snapped. “Kei’s returning to his home after a great trial—you should have more respect for what he’s suffered for Darshian’s sake.”
“I have completely respect for Kei—it’s his choice of patient I mistrust.” She folded her arms. “I refuse to hand over a drop of nitre distillation or anything else if it’s to be used on that man.”
Kei had been afraid of this, but her attitude still shocked him. He tried to stay polite because she was angry enough. “First of all, I didn’t ‘choose’ a patient—no healer does. And who he is or what he’s done makes no difference to me.”
“Very noble, Kei of Ai-Albon, but I feel differently.”
“As you wish. Your attitude shames our profession in my opinion, but I’m not going to force you to do anything.”
She rounded on him. “Do you know what that man is responsible for? He ripped seventy people from their homes, killed ten of them, killed another in cold blood—you expect me to help you keep him alive?”
Her raw anger and hatred was ripping his control to shreds and he had to clench his fists to try and stay calm. “I know all of this. I expect nothing but that you uphold the ethics of all healers. Where is it written that we judge our patients?”
“Where is it written,” she demanded furiously, “that we give aid and comfort to the enemies of our people either? It’s you who shame us. I spit on your betrayal.” A gob of spittle landed at his feet. “I refuse to give you anything.” She stalked out, leaving the now rather large audience standing with their mouths hanging open.
Kei backed up to the wall, collapsed onto a wooden chest resting against it, and hugged his arms around himself, utterly nauseated. He hadn’t felt animosity like that since he’d left Arman’s house.
“Kei? Don’t take it to heart,” Gyek said kindly. “She has no right to say such things. I’ll speak to her—”
Kei held up a shaking hand to silence him. “No...no. Just leave it, please. I can manage without the supplies, if I have to.”
“I’m sorry for this lack of respect our village has shown. It’s not our way, I promise you.”
Kei looked up, wishing they would all just go away. “This war has changed many people. I know that more than most.”
Tiko came up behind Gyek, said something Kei couldn’t hear, and then came forward. “Kei, my men can deal with the stores. Gyek and Aldik need to have your news. Go with them, I’ll meet you at his house for the meal.”
Kei got up and followed the clan head, keeping his head down to avoid the looks from several dozen villagers who’d heard the whole exchange. He wasn’t ashamed, he truly wasn’t—but he couldn’t bear this suspicion and hostility for doing what he felt in his heart was only right. It was so unfair to have endured so much and come so far, only to be judged wanting as he came so close to his home again.
At the house, Gyek’s wife greeted him warmly, and put a mug of beer, bread and cheese in front of him as soon as he sat down, saying he looked as if he needed feeding up. Her undemanding kindness helped Kei regain a little composure, and as he picked at the food, he gave Gyek news of his son and the other clansmen, and Aldik the reassurance about Jena he desperately wanted to hear. “She’s in the home of one of the kindest, most decent people you would ever meet, Aldik. Not all Prij are warmongers.”
“Kind or not, she’s still in danger every moment she’s in their hands,” Aldik said, his face solemn. “Will this general be able to hasten her return?”
“I fear not. He won’t betray his people by giving us the information that might help.”
“Someone should go and pound a little sense of justice into him,” Gyek’s younger son said. He’d been listening to Kei’s report in silence, but now he leaned forward. “Has no one tried? I mean, if he’s injured, surely we can—”
Kei slammed his fist onto the table. “No! I won’t hear of this and you should be ashamed to even think such a thing, let alone say it!”
His vehemence shocked them, but then Gyek nodded. “Pik, that’s indeed a shameful thought. Apologise.”
Pik bowed his head. “I’m sorry. I just want our people back. They took my brother with them.”
“I don’t care who they took,” Kei said sternly. “Wh
at’s wrong with everyone that they’re forgetting the Prij are humans too? Even the general isn’t as evil as you think—he would never suggest what you just did, for a start.”
“You seem to be an expert on them—why can’t you persuade him to let our people come home?” Aldik said, his previous friendliness now buried under suspicion.
He was handling this badly, but he wasn’t going to lie and agree with what was simply wrong and immoral. “Because he believes to betray his country would lead to deaths of his own people, his own family. If Darshek had declared war on the Prij, and you were a prisoner in their hands, would you betray our race?”
“Darshek would never do such a thing,” Gyek said heavily. “Nor any Darshianese.”
“But if they did?” Kei persisted. “Would you betray any of us, to save any of them?”
Gyek waved his hand in dismissal. “Your point is theoretical—we’re talking about a country who has declared war, who has taken our people prisoner. He should right the wrong he has done, regardless of the personal pain. It’s only just.”
Kei gritted his teeth. This was an impossible argument to win, the more so because he saw both sides were right and also wrong. He fervently wished now he’d sent a note into the village with the news of the hostages, and stayed in the camp.
Gyek’s wife, Eide, declared the food was ready and set the dishes out in front of them. Tiko joined them just after they’d started. Kei let the captain be the focus of their attention, and kept quiet for the rest of the meal. He sensed the disapproval of all his hosts—all save Eide who’d sensibly stayed out of the argument—but didn’t feel up to trying to defend his position or his actions. He resented the necessity of even having to do so.
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