by Ginn Hale
As he went he couldn't help but notice the differences between the Hellions' quarters. Creative disarray reigned through the small room Nestor shared with Atreau. Ink bottles cluttered both their desks and the floor was a maze of books, scribbled poems, sketchbooks and tins of paints. Discarded papers and crumpled sketches collected beside the tiny fireplace to be used as kindling. The earthy smell of Nestor's graphite styluses mingled nicely with the spicy scent of Atreau's cologne.
Two rooms down the hall, Kiram recognized Fedeles' bed at once. Even empty it looked tormented. Tangled sheets and blankets twisted around pillows and discarded clothes. Old bandages hung from the headboard. Wood shavings, tattered papers and odd socks littered the floor. In stark contrast stood six precise rows of small, carved horses. Nearly two dozen filled his desk. Pinned to the wall above them was Nestor's drawing of Firaj.
Both Morisio and Genimo kept their halves of their rooms neat. A few stains of machine oil marred Genimo's desk while a deck of cards lay at Morisio's bedside. They, like most of the Hellions, were not remarkable in their habitations. Tournament ribbons and dice abounded as did liquor flasks and hunting knives.
But Elezar surprised Kiram. He'd expected a mess of sweat- stained jackets, dueling knives and dirty boots. He'd prepared himself to choke on the smell of sweat, sex and white ruin. Instead the space seemed almost abandoned. The desk and shelves stood bare, except for a thin sheaf of blank paper and a pen kit. A simple coverlet stretched over the bed, neither tucked in nor rumpled. The sight reminded Kiram of a room at an inn where the resident had not unpacked, expecting to be gone too soon to bother.
When curiosity drew Kiram to open Elezar's dresser, he found nothing but school uniforms and a formal coat. No books, diaries, love tokens or good luck charms lay beneath the folded shirts or among the clean pairs of socks. Then in the pocket of the coat, Kiram discovered a tattered scrap of paper. He unfolded it carefully and found a fine drawing of Javier. The portrait was handsome and skillfully made-one of Nestor's best sketches, Kiram thought. And it was clearly cherished, worn from a constant touch but also folded carefully, so that no crease marred the face.
Suddenly Kiram felt ashamed. What was he doing, digging through Elezar's personal belongings? This was certainly none of his business. Now that he held Elezar's one private treasure in his hands he wished that he had never found it. Kiram returned it to the coat pocket and closed the dresser at once.
He left a long-bladed Irabiim knife with a finely decorated scabbard and fled the room, feeling guilty.
He was relieved that only two gifts remained. He left a set of calipers and six hard lemon candies in the infirmary for Scholar Donamillo, then he slunk down the hall to the door of Scholar Blasio's personal rooms. He had no intention of intruding upon the scholar's privacy. Instead he placed a box of sugared almonds and a pair of fur lined gloves down in front of Scholar Blasio's door. Then just as he rose to his feet the door swung suddenly open. Kiram jumped, an involuntary cry of surprise escaping him. Scholar Blasio's scowl lifted to a gentle smile the moment he met Kiram's startled face.
"I thought you'd be at chapel. " Kiram began and then realized that he needed to explain what he was doing crouching in front of the scholar's door, not why he was surprised to be caught. He picked up the wooden box and the gloves and thrust them out to Scholar Blasio. "I brought Solstice gifts"
The scholar accepted the gifts in apparent stunned silence. For the first time Kiram wondered if such an act could be offensive to a Cadeleonian. Was it wrong to offer them food and luxuries during a time of religious deprivation? "I know Cadeleonians don't celebrate this way but we Haldiim give gifts today. And I thought it couldn't hurt if I shared a few things with my friends"
"Thank you." Scholar Blasio gazed at the box and gloves with a strangely distant expression.
"I didn't mean to offend you-"
"No, you haven't," Scholar Blasio cut him off. "Quite the contrary, actually. I'm touched, Kiram. It's been so long since…" He simply shook his head and then stepped back from the door, holding it open. "Come in. We should talk."
The response was so strange that for a moment Kiram felt afraid, but he trusted Scholar Blasio and so accepted the invitation. The scholar's rooms weren't large. The warmth of the small hearth and the smell of spiced tea immediately calmed him. Familiar math texts lay on a weathered table beside Scholar Blasio's teapot.
"Can I offer you a cup?" Scholar Blasio brushed a hand over the teapot.
"Yes, please" Kiram sat in the worn seat across from the scholar's own. While the scholar poured a second cup of the steaming, fragrant tea, Kiram studied the graceful wood- carvings that decorated the bookshelves. One highly detailed globe held Kiram's attention so deeply that he almost missed the humble clay lamp on the scholar's windowsill. The flame burned low, illuminating little more than the graceful form of the lamp itself.
Once Kiram did notice it, he couldn't easily look away. Its place on the windowsill could have been a chance happening. A lamp might be set down anywhere at any time. But the shape of the lamp was so distinctly Haldiim that Kiram couldn't help but think it was meant for the Solstice.
"It belonged to my great-great-great-grandmother," Scholar Blasio said.
"It looks like a Haldiim Solstice lamp," Kiram commented cautiously.
"That is, in fact, exactly what it is." Scholar Blasio handed Kiram his tea. Kiram remembered accepting tea from the scholar before and thinking there was something familiar about its flavor. Now he recognized the taste. Musni's mother served the same red-tipped leaves to her guests; many Haldiim descended from northern lineages favored this smoky blend.
"There used to be an entire Haldiim population here before King Nazario purged them from the land" Scholar Blasio opened the wooden box of sugar almonds. He took one but didn't eat it. Instead he handed a second one to Kiram. Kiram hardly tasted the candy. He'd been feeling so alone that he hadn't even considered that other Haldiim could be hidden among the Cadeleonians who surrounded him.
"Most of the Haldiim were killed or fled" Scholar Blasio went on. "But there were a few with Cadeleonian parents or grandparents who could pass without notice."
Instinctively, Kiram searched for some physical trace of Haldiim heritage in Blasio's face. There was nothing. With his thick build, pale skin, and dark eyes and hair, Scholar Blasio could have served as a perfect example of a common Cadeleonian. No doubt Nazario's scourges had wiped away any Haldiim who could be recognized at a glance, leaving behind only the most perfect of chameleons.
"Believe it or not, Donamillo and I are descended from a Bahiim lineage." Scholar Blasio gave Kiram a wry smile.
"I." Kiram didn't know what to say. "I wouldn't have ever guessed. I mean, not until I saw the lamp."
"This is the first year I've lit it since I left my mother's home." Scholar Blasio's expression was distant. His gaze rested on the flickering lamp. Absently he popped a sugar almond into his mouth and suddenly his grave countenance brightened. "My word, these are good!"
"They're one of my mother's most popular specialties."
"Yes, I can see how a person could make a fortune with a candy like this one. Sweet success, hmm?"
"Yes, exactly," Kiram agreed. He didn't want to mention his mother's many other assets and properties when Scholar Blasio obviously came from a far more deprived family.
"Donamillo didn't want me to tell you this-I mean, about our heritage. I think he worried that you would let it slip to the other scholars or the holy father, but." Blasio poured himself a little more tea and then refreshed Kiram's cup as well. "King Nazario is long dead and I see no point in you feeling isolated and alone when there are two other Haldiim living with you. So I decided that I would tell you. I claimed illness to get out of the chapel vigil and lit my lamp for the first time in years." A look of melancholy flickered across Scholar Blasio's face. "Then my courage failed me. I can't say why, but I just couldn't bring myself to fetch you and tell you what I wanted to say. I must s
ound like a coward to a young man like yourself."
"No," Kiram replied. "I can't imagine having a secret like yours." Even as he spoke Kiram realized, with great irony, that he did have a secret as deep and private as Scholar Blasio's and he was even less inclined to speak of it.
"You keep a secret too long and it gains a kind of power over you, I think. It starts to own you." Scholar Blasio ate another candy almond and then leaned back in his chair, seeming for the first time to completely relax. "You can't know the state I was in when you showed up at my door." Scholar Blasio shook his head. "But now that I've told you, it really doesn't seem so important. I'm Haldiim."
"I'm glad. Now I don't have to spend Solstice alone." Kiram drank more of the tea.
"It is a relief to escape that wretched chapel. The entire affair is dull, depressing and far too sober." Scholar Blasio suddenly hopped up from his chair and went to a small cabinet. He returned to the table with a round of hard cheese, half a loaf of bread, and a flask that smelled of honey wine.
"Let us have as proper a Haldiim Solstice as we can" He poured the liquor into Kiram's empty teacup and then served himself.
"To light, friends and honesty." Blasio offered a toast.
Kiram drank happily and after several more toasts, he taught Scholar Blasio the Solstice song. They sang together, discussed two new mathematics papers, and from time to time Scholar Blasio made little confessions of his secret life. He described the pranks Donamillo had often played on their Cadeleonian neighbors and his own attempts to reclaim the power of his Bahiim ancestors.
"For nearly two years I kept lurking under old trees, hoping one of them would somehow commune with me. Donamillo would deny it but I know he did it too. We couldn't help it. Our grandmother was always telling stories of our glorious Bahiim ancestors" Scholar Blasio rolled his eyes and Kiram laughed. He guessed that he had gotten a little drunk after all.
"It was years before I realized that the Bahiim magic was long lost, if it had ever really existed at all."
"I used to think it was all just stories," Kiram admitted. "But there are some things I've seen that have given me doubts."
"I'm sure" Scholar Blasio said. "Rooming with Javier Tornesal, I imagine you've seen quite a lot of Bahiim power. Of course it's in the completely wrong hands." Scholar Blasio leaned forward in his chair and gazed intensely at Kiram. "It's like some kind of divine joke, really. The power of all shajdis lost to the Bahiim and yet somehow a Cadeleonian beef head has inherited one."
"I don't think he's a beef head at all," Kiram objected.
"No, I suppose he's not." Blasio smiled at Kiram and ate another slice of the pungent cheese. "I have to admit I had feared that he would mistreat you when you first arrived. But young Lord Tornesal has proven himself a very decent man, despite his mediocre mathematical skills. He's earned a great deal of my respect for that. Who knows, maybe the shajdi is not in the wrong hands after all."
"So, you've always known the white hell was a shajdi?" Kiram asked.
"Me? No. Donamillo recognized it when he saw the previous duke burn the city gates in Labara with his bare hands. At the time it infuriated him to realize that a shajdi had fallen into the hands of a Cadeleonian but things changed after he started teaching here. The same thing happened to me. If you spend enough time teaching boys, seeing their families and watching them grow into men, you realize that we are all just people. No matter what faith we follow or how we celebrate. The greatest wisdom of the Bahiim is knowing that we are all one: Haldiim, Cadeleonian, Mirogoth, Yuan. The names are superficial. The same humanity exists within us all. We come from the shajdi and we return to the shajdi. We all carry it within us."
Kiram nodded, benevolence and alcohol lending a sense of immense profundity to Blasio's words. It seemed a perfect time to raise the Solstice song and to Kiram's pleasure Blasio joined him. Then Blasio taught him a hearty, Cadeleonian New Year song so that he'd be able to sing along when his Hellion friends were finally allowed to sing again. The two of them ate and drank and sang until the hour grew late. At last Kiram wandered up to his room, humming to himself, and fell asleep nestled in Javier's bed.
His slight hangover the next day hardly stood out in the sea of his sleep-deprived classmates and instructors. Most of the classes were released early. For the first time all year Kiram found the library full of students, most napping in the quiet warmth. The Hellions had claimed a big table far from the drafts of the door and noise of the hall.
Most of them slumped forward in their seats, their faces planted against the tabletop, sleeping. Javier slouched in an ornately carved chair, looking exhausted but awake.
"Kiram, join us." Javier kicked out a chair next to his own. Elezar scowled at the noise as the legs grated across the stone floor.
Kiram dropped into the seat, glad to get off his feet after enduring Master Ignacio's marching drill. He envied Nestor, who had possessed the good sense to volunteer to help tidy the chapel as an escape from combat practice.
"You were in the dormitory last night" Javier said. "You didn't happen to notice an imp scurrying about and depositing gifts in certain students' rooms, did you?"
Kiram flushed with a mixture of guilt and happiness.
"I'm afraid I have no idea of what an imp looks like so I couldn't say."
"This one would have been slim, golden-haired-" Javier's description was broken off.
"-sneaky, scrawny and loaded down with loot. You might have noticed him while you were walking past a mirror or something." Elezar pulled his bloodshot eyes open and gazed levelly at Kiram.
Kiram laughed but admitted nothing.
"Well, if you do see him tell him thanks" Elezar yawned. "He's a fair judge of a good knife."
"If I see him I will certainly tell him," Kiram replied.
"Yes, and ask him why he didn't leave anything for me." There was only a trace of hurt in Javier's tone but Kiram responded to it immediately.
"What? But I did-" Kiram stopped as he caught Javier's smug expression. He scowled at Javier. "I left a fart on your pillow."
Elezar snorted at the response. Javier just smacked the back of Kiram's head lightly. His hand lingered for a moment, almost making a caress of the blow. Belatedly Kiram saw that Javier wore one of his Solstice gifts: a simple gold ring with a Mirogoth knot design forming the centerpiece. Kiram felt a sudden flush of pleasure and something like conquest at the sight of Javier wearing the ring.
Not that they had exchanged oaths or ever would, Kiram reminded himself. But for an instant he sensed the pride that he might have taken in their pledges and rings. Then he felt foolish for choosing to give Javier a ring and making himself melancholy.
"Something wrong?" Javier asked.
"No." Kiram pulled his gaze from the ring and leaned on the table. "I'm a little hungover, that's all."
"Hungover?" Atreau groggily shoved an oily strand of his black hair back from his face. "How come you get to be hungover when the rest of us just have to be exhausted?"
"Just one of the advantages of being barred from chapel," Kiram replied.
"Yes, well you left our room quite a wreck, and you've hardly begun copying my history essay"' Javier stood and stretched. Their room was fine and Javier's history essays never required a rewrite to tidy them, but he didn't object. "I expect that you'll have all in order by the time I'm done with my nap, Underclassman Kiram"
"Yes, Upperclassman." Kiram let a heavy sigh serve as his feigned protest. Atreau weakly waved after him as he followed Javier out of the library.
Once they were up in their room, Javier pulled Kiram into a hard, possessive kiss. Kiram returned his force and desire but then drew back, taking in Javier's wide dark eyes and naked longing. He smiled, and when Javier tried to kiss him again, he offered a teasing evasion.
Javier pinned him against the wall, forcing Kiram to open his lips to him. Pleasure pulsed through Kiram's groin as Javier slowly pressed their hips into contact.
"I missed you last nig
ht." Javier kissed him again but this time with a slow sensuality. The buckles of their belts clinked and ground as they pressed themselves closer.
Javier's hands closed on the small of Kiram's back and then cautiously dropped lower to caress Kiram's buttocks.
There was intention in Javier's touch, but neither certainty nor skill. Raw hunger made his grip almost bruising. His strong fingers dug in. It was not the first time that Javier courted a deeper intimacy, but this was by far his most direct overture. Whether he did not know the words or simply could not bring himself to speak them, Kiram did not know, but Javier never voiced his desire and when Kiram quietly evaded him, Javier always quickly relented.
Javier knew what he wanted, Kiram thought, but he didn't know exactly how to have it. Kiram could have taught him. Running his hand over Javier's taut body, Kiram ached to have him but wasn't sure that he knew Javier well enough to trust where such exchanges might lead them. He had heard too many Cadeleonians-Javier among them-use the word 'bender' as a byword for a weakling or a coward. Kiram wouldn't risk Javier viewing him as either. Nor did he wish to force Javier to accept such an identity.
So Kiram ducked to the side, caught hold of Javier's hand, and pulled him to the bed. He pushed Javier back onto the bedding and straddled his legs.
Kiram's hands had grown skilled at working open the delicate gold buttons of Javier's trousers. A soft moan escaped Javier as Kiram bowed over him.
There was such pleasure feeling Javier's entire body respond to the slightest motion of his tongue and the tension of his throat. There was power as well, working him to the height of ecstasy and withholding his release, again and again. Kiram exulted in Javier's ragged breathing, his desperate grip and even the moment when Javier's control broke and he rolled Kiram beneath him and thrust hard. Then Javier fell back, breathing as though he'd run miles.
