Kei's Gift

by Ann Somerville

  Kei would go to the academy tomorrow. And then he would get Tiko to find out what was happening with Arman. Reji said he wouldn’t leave Darshek until Kei was well again. Kei wouldn’t leave until he knew Arman was safe, and that was all there was to it.

  Chapter : Darshek 2

  After a sleepless night filled with worries and futile desires, Arman hardly felt refreshed, but he was eager to finish this task he’d set himself. He therefore welcomed the note that came with the generous breakfast, saying he would be required to attend the rulers in two hours, an escort coming to collect him at that time. He truly hoped a solution would be found—he’d spent not a small amount of his unwelcome insomnia turning possible answers over in his mind, but could find none at all. He had too little information, and while the close-mouthedness of the Darshianese had been entirely understandable, it had effectively stymied all his attempts to come up with a feasible plan. He hoped this discretion was shortly to end.

  He’d eaten well in the villages on the latter part of his journey, but it was nothing compared to what was laid before him now—fresh fruit, both as pieces and as juice, milk, butter on exquisitely made bread, and slices of a firm, flavoursome cheese. The only thing lacking was a pot of pijo—unknown to the Darshianese, apparently—and Kei’s presence, also unobtainable. Since he had not been able to sleep and restore his energy that way, he ate and hoped it would help. He had a long day ahead of him—one, if he was completely honest, might end in him being taken to a prison camp. He guiltily realised he hadn’t enquired after the soldiers being held captive, but since he himself and his fourteen men had been treated with such consideration, it honestly hadn’t occurred to him the other thousand or so would be maltreated in any way. However, he would ask if he could see them—the request would likely be refused but he could make the gesture and see where it got him.

  While he was eating, his laundered—and mended—clothes were brought back to him, and shortly after, a young woman called Siv turned up to put him through his exercises and to massage his leg. She didn’t use Kei’s tirsel leaf ointment, but he felt the benefit of the massage anyway. Kei hadn’t really needed to warn him not to overdo it. His leg muscles complained after the slightest exertion.

  He dressed but still had nearly an hour to spare, so he pulled out Kei’s book and his own notes in them. Karus had the dictionary papers still in Utuk, so Arman had only the two sets of notes to use as a crude language guide. He really should have had a copy made of the work Karus and Kei had completed. He doubted anyone here would want to work on such a thing, with him the only person likely to need it.

  He became absorbed in his task, and was thus a little surprised at the knock on the door which announced his escort. They took him outside to the rear of the House where more gardens spread over a large area, numerous shady trees providing shelter from the already punishing sun. After weeks of freezing his arse off in north Darshian, the contrast was pleasant.

  There was a pavilion, the kind of thing that might pass unremarked in Her Serenity’s palace, where she could sit and drink a glass of wine while watching musicians. In this building, also set advantageously to catch the evening sea breeze and the scents from the garden, a number of people of high rank sat on chairs with tables next to them. Curiously, not all the chairs were occupied. Arman was asked to sit in front of the nobles, at a little distance from them, and was then introduced to the other seven Rulers of Darshek—one of whom, he noted with some astonishment, was a mother feeding a very young infant from a bottle. But then if women were allowed to rule, one had to expect such things, he supposed. He was surprised she wasn’t using a wet-nurse.

  It was another woman, Lady Jilki, who stood to address him. “General, Lord Meki has explained to us your goals and your reservations. We have invited you today to show you evidence of our good faith and our military capabilities. Now, I believe you understand the consequence of doing this. Can you confirm that in front of us, please?”

  “Yes. I confirm that once I have seen these secrets or received this information, I won’t be allowed to return to Kuprij until all hostilities with my country cease. Is that clear enough?”

  “Yes, thank you. But there is one more thing, I’m afraid. While it is Lord Meki’s belief that you are sincere, we need more than his assessment. We have ways of determining what is in your heart—no harm will come to you, and this will be done only with your consent—but unless you allow it, we can go no further.”

  Arman nodded. “You intend to use a soul-toucher or a mind-speaker?”

  That question caused consternation among the Rulers. “May I ask how you know of such things?” Lady Jilki asked, shooting a poisonous glance at Lord Meki, who looked rather queasy at Arman’s revelation.

  “Two of the hostages had these gifts, my lady. They were revealed to me because it became crucial to the continued survival of one of them that I knew. I was sworn to secrecy and have not revealed the existence of gifts to any other Prij. If I had, I assure you the young healer who returned with me would not have been allowed to do so, as he is the soul-toucher in question.”

  “I see. Well, the damage is done,” Lady Jilki said, still sounding a little put out. “To answer your question then, yes this is what we intend. Do you consent?”

  “Yes, my lady.”

  “You understand how it works?”

  “No, my lady,” he said with a smile, “but if you mean have I experienced it, yes I have. I’m not afraid—Kei has reassured me about the ethics of those of you with gifts, and I believe him.”

  There was a whispered consultation between the Rulers, in which Kei’s name appeared several times. “Very well.” She raised her hand, and two men came walking towards the pavilion across the grass. “General, in the presence of our gifted assistants, please confirm that you consent to their verifying your sincerity.”

  “I confirm it readily. I have nothing to hide.”

  That got him a smirk from one of the men, and a faint smile from the other one. Both laid hands on him as Lady Jilki asked him a series of penetrating questions about why he was agreeing to assist the Darshianese, and what he hoped to gain from doing so. Arman answered everything as calmly as he could, and hoped his honesty really could be detected. Finally, the two men let go and went to the Rulers, speaking in a low voice with them, while Arman waited impatiently for their pronouncement.

  The two interrogators sat down to one side and Lady Jilki stood. “General, your motives have been found entirely pure and your statements sincere. Therefore, in the assurance that you understand exactly what this means, we shall begin. Lord Meki?”

  Lord Meki stood and raised his hand in an apparent signal. Shortly after two men and a woman ambled over to the pavilion. Arman watched in some astonishment as the newcomers greeted the Rulers familiarly and sat down without waiting to be invited—these were either very rude or very indulged servants. He detected an air of fond irritation from Lady Jilki, but Lord Meki was entirely undisturbed by his underlings’ lack of manners.

  “General—you’ve heard of gifts, but what you don’t realise is that the minor talents you’ve been made aware of are both common and insignificant compared to those possessed by the truly Gifted. Three of our more powerful Gifted have agreed to come here today to demonstrate their abilities to you. Reis? Would you...? Oh, and don’t break anything,” Meki added severely. “Or anyone.”

  The man called Reis only grinned. “That was an accident last time—damn silly fool took fright. If he’d sat still, he’d have been fine. General, can you see that statue over there? The big fishy thing?”

  “It’s a blyke whale, you ignoramus,” the other male newcomer muttered, while the woman smiled behind her hand.

  “Whale, fish, whatever. You see it? At the edge of the garden?”

  “Yes,” Arman agreed, wondering if he was dealing with a lunatic, “I can see it.”

  “Want a closer look?”

  Arman stared at this idiot—was this some kind of ela
borate test? “Not really.”

  “Oh. Well, Neris likes it so I’ll bring it over for him.” Reis gestured lazily, almost in a bored way.

  The statue rose slowly and drifted across the garden like a piece of seed fluff. If Arman had not previously seen Kei’s trick with the gren nut, he’d have thought he’d lost his mind, but he still stared in open-mouthed amazement as the bronze and marble statue was brought to the grassed area.

  “Not on the lawn,” Lady Jilki said severely. “The gardeners have only just repaired it after the last time.”

  “All right,” Reis said amiably, leaving the statue—which had to weigh several tons—floating a few inches above the grass. “Your turn, Neris. Pity it’s not night.”

  Neris scowled. Then without any warning or gesture from him, several huge bright pillars of flame appeared elegantly arranged around the hovering statue—considerately kept, like the statue, off the grass. Arman lost the power of speech as the pillars grew several dozen yards into the air, then disappeared with an almighty ‘whoof’ which made birds in the trees flap away squawking in disgust.

  “Show off,” the woman said affectionately. “Do you think the lawn needs a drink, Jil?”

  ‘Jil’ glared a little at the name, but nodded. “Not seawater, Meda, please.”

  “Yes, I know, the gardeners will have a fit,” Meda said with a sigh. She waved her hand, and for several moments nothing happened. Just as Arman was wondering what exactly her power was, a huge waterspout glided silently over the roof of the Rulers’ House and did a slow circuit over their heads, the trapped water swirling furiously, and then, like a ball of wool unwinding, it slowly and gracefully unravelled, sprinkling water—and a few unfortunate fish—over the lawn and the flower beds.

  Lady Jilki looked at the dying fish and then back at Meda who shrugged. “Oops?”

  “I suppose the fish will feed the flowers eventually,” the Ruler said with a sigh. “General, to forestall your next objection—we don’t need your knowledge to wage war on Kuprij. We have many more weapons in our arsenal than the harbour cannons, and a strong alliance with the Andonese whose army and navy outnumber both your country’s and ours together. With these alone we could destroy Kuplik tomorrow, even without the assistance of our Gifted.”

  “Then why this display, fascinating though it undoubtedly was?” Arman’s eyes were still drawn to the floating statue. Reis had made it rotate slowly, perhaps to let Arman see it to its best advantage, or perhaps just because it amused him to do so.

  “Because you wanted us to minimise casualties—as do we. We don’t want war, general. We didn’t want this conflict and we would never have launched any attack on the Prij. Apart from anything else, our people have got better things to do with their lives. Now you have seen a sample—a very small sample—of what we have at our disposal, do you think you can form a plan to rescue our people without undue loss of life?”

  Arman turned to Reis. “How much can you lift or move?”

  Reis grinned. “You know Kurlik Pass? That wasn’t blocked by explosives, you know.”

  Arman shook his head in astonishment. “Then the answer is yes. I think I can.”

  Meda held up her hand. “Wait a minute—we don’t kill and we won’t attack people. Got that, general? We’re not damn weapons.”

  “I understand, my lady.” He turned back to the Rulers. “I need to know all of it—what else you have, what ships you have and how many men you can supply.”

  “You said you had a specific date in mind,” Lord Meki said.

  “Yes. At the equinox, Her Serenity will oversee a major celebration and sacrifice to Lord Quek at the harbour. I have no idea if the hostages will be present—but every dignitary worth their salt will be, along with a good percentage of the navy and the army. I didn’t know what you had available—all I had was a vague idea that it would be a point of vulnerability for the Prij—but now I think it might be our opportunity.”

  “Then we have six days to plan and prepare, and eight to sail to Kuplik. Reis, Meda, Neris, I’m going to send the general with you to the academy—”

  “Hang on,” Neris said irritably. He seemed generally rather ill-tempered. “How do we know this fellow won’t see us as freaks and treat us like some of the Rulers in the past did?”

  Lord Meki started to speak, but to Arman’s surprise, it was one of the two interrogators who interrupted him. “If I may, my lord. The general has become very close to one of the lesser gifted, and sees nothing ‘freakish’ at all in the concept of gifts. I would risk my reputation to state he’ll treat our truly Gifted with respect.”

  “I will,” Arman said earnestly. “Right now, I feel...rather overwhelmed by it all, to be frank, but if you don’t trust me, then I’ll make the plans and let someone else take charge of the execution. Is that fair?”

  “More than fair,” Lord Meki said, glaring at Neris. “Right, time is wasting. General, please go with the others. You’ll be escorted there and back for your own safety, but as of this moment, you can consider yourself to have the same freedom as any other Darshianese citizen. It’s only proper to warn you that this freedom probably only extends to being able to wander around the House for the moment, but this will change.”

  Arman thought of Kei, and then realised, regardless of his personal wishes, he had something more important and urgent to attend to. “Thank you, my lord. I’ll do what I can to earn this trust.”

  “Good. Reis, please put the statue back now. It’s confusing the gulls.”

  ~~~~~~~~

  Kei looked at Reji yawning over breakfast and felt guilty all over again. He’d not slept well—but Reji had hardly slept at all, he confessed. Kei had kept him awake most of the night with his bad dreams and crying out. “Now you know why Tiko made me share the tent with Arman,” he said in a low voice, pouring out more tea for his lover. “Sorry.”

  “It’s not your fault, Keichichi, and once we go to the academy, they might have an answer.”

  Reji was so difficult to depress, Kei thought fondly. “Don’t you have things to do today?”

  “Well, yes, but I have to go into the city anyway, so why don’t we go together after you visit your army friend, and then we can do my business. We can retrieve your beast from Tiko. Should have hung onto that, little brother—I can always use another beast.”

  “I’m sorry—it’s not really mine, although the original animal was actually Prijian, and I’m not going back to return it.” Reji just grinned. “Gods, I missed your smile.”

  “I miss yours,” Reji said quietly. “But we’ll find it again. Eat up now. Sira must have thrown a fit when she saw you.”

  Kei was relieved to find his control was back to what it had been at least before Ai-Darbin, and while the numbers of strangers milling about by the harbour was difficult to bear for the sheer volume of emotions he had to sift through, he wasn’t at the same risk of falling apart he had been the evening before. Reji’s calm demeanour helped, as did his sheer familiarity. While it was nothing like as soothing as Arman’s presence, in a way Kei welcomed it more as being something he knew he could hang onto. If they could work out what Arman was doing, then maybe Reji could do it too.

  They were out of luck in finding Tiko, although the sergeant he spoke to swore he would pass on a message, and he also provided Kei with a supply of coins which Reji judged generous without being excessive. Kei had very little experience of handling money at all. It wasn’t used in the village, and Fedor and the clan paid for anything he ordered for his profession. When he’d lived in Darshek before, he’d stayed in the dormitories like the other trainees. His parents had given him a very small amount of money to spend on luxuries, but Kei had been so overwhelmed by all the knowledge suddenly there at his fingertips, that he’d hardly gone out at all and had brought most of the coins back with him. He had no idea what anything cost, or even where one bought most things, since whenever he wanted food—on those rare occasions when he and Myka didn’t cook for themselv
es—he just went to Sira or Meis to ask. And it wasn’t like he’d been allowed to stroll around in the markets of Utuk....

  After a bit of confusion at the stables, he retrieved his beast—or one closely resembling the one he’d ridden in on—and soon they were riding the mile and a half along the road to Darshek proper. As they rode, keeping their beasts at walking pace, Reji told him how the war had affected the city—surprisingly little, considering, he said. “The worst hit were the inns and the sailors because of the harbour being closed. The inns at least had the Andonese soldiers for a good while, but most of them are now quartered up near Kislik or further out on the plain. The sailors are still drawing their pay, but they’re bored and that brings trouble. I hope your friend can make it possible for the siege to end—everyone’s sick of it, and the supplies from Andon are much more expensive. The treasury can cope, but it’s irritating for all concerned.”

  “And the soldiers?”

  Reji pointed southwest. “In a big camp over there. I reckon we should send a bill to that damn queen of theirs, since her men have been eating their heads off at our expense for so long.”

  Kei shook his head at the idea. “She doesn’t have much of a sense of humour from what Arman says, so I think that joke wouldn’t go down well.”

  “Who says I’m joking? Anyway, it was roughest when we had everyone here in the camps and no one knew what was happening. When people were sent home, it made a big difference to morale. I still think they made a huge mistake in letting the hostages be taken.”

  Kei lowered his eyes. “Yes, but we might have had no homes to return to if the Rulers had advised another strategy. We had no chance to fight them on our own, and I’d rather be a hostage for ten years than have you or Myka or anyone else killed.”

  “I still think it was too high a price for stability—at least, I bet the people in Ai-Vinri think so.”

  At the mention of the bereaved clan, Kei grew silent. It was true, what Reji said—the security and future of the clans had been bought at the cost of ten deaths, and possibly sixty-nine more if Arman’s plan failed. But at the same times, there were several thousand people who had been able to pick up their lives more or less where they’d left off. It was too high a price—but it had still needed to be paid.