Student of Kyme

by Constantine, Storm

  In the dining room, Huriel held himself under considerable restraint and didn’t utter a word, although there was laughter in his eyes. I kept dropping cutlery and knocking things over, as if I’d lost control of my body. Again, Huriel shortly left us alone, as he’d begun his breakfast before we had. I looked upon the har beside me, buttering his toast, and wondered how I felt about him now. What would happen next? Would there be a next time? Nothing had been said aloud. We’d spoken with our bodies, that was all.

  ‘What have you got planned today?’ Malakess asked me.

  ‘Nothing,’ I replied. ‘Huriel hasn’t told me to do anything in particular. Oh, I have to meet Sabarah later.’

  ‘You will of course come to dinner at the hotel tonight?’

  ‘I will?’

  Malakess looked up from his toast and smiled at me. ‘I would like you to.’

  ‘Yes, then. Yes, I’d like it too.’

  He adopted a serious expression. ‘How do you feel now, Gesaril?’

  I grinned at him. ‘I feel like a dehar, or that I’ve been possessed by a dehar.’

  Malakess shook his head. ‘I’m sure you over-rate my skills.’ In those words hung the ghost of Ysobi again, the skilled Hienama of arunic arts. I didn’t think Malakess had intended it, but that’s what I heard.

  ‘It depends what you mean by skill,’ I said. ‘I think compassion is worth more than skill.’

  Malakess stared at the table for some moments. Then he drew a breath. ‘I have to ask you something. Please speak honestly. Do you regard last night as a one off occasion?’

  I stared at him, even though he wouldn’t meet my eyes. ‘That depends entirely on how you feel about it.’

  He laughed, rather nervously, and then looked at me. ‘I feel good about it. I don’t know where this will lead us, Gesaril. I think we should just see what happens, but I want you to know that I’d like us to remain close. I think… we go well together.’ He groaned and shook his head. ‘Seductive talk is not one of my virtues.’

  ‘I understand you perfectly,’ I said. ‘I think we want the same thing.’

  ‘But I’m so much older than you…’

  ‘Aruna does not recognise age,’ I said. ‘When we were together, it didn’t matter. I didn’t even think about it. You were just a beautiful har, that’s all. I felt comfortable with you, in every sense, and that’s rare for me. I’m not about to let that go.’

  He nodded. ‘These things, new bonds, are fragile. We need to take care.’

  No second generation har would ever say such a thing, but then we were all young in comparison to hara like Malakess.

  I knew already that Malakess was not the kind of har who would appreciate overt gestures of intimacy in public places, nor would he be spontaneous to offer affection. To him, aruna was a private matter, and intimate bonds between hara should not be part of a display. I liked the thought of that. We would be like a secret, but not a shameful one, such as that I’d shared with Ysobi.

  Now I have to go and meet Sabarah. What new wonders will tonight bring? I can’t believe how much my life has changed, how different I feel. I have to write something every day. I don’t want to forget any of this.

  Miyacalasday, Ardourmoon 24

  Sabarah sensed at once something different about me and must have guessed another har was the cause. He didn’t question me about it, but was pleased I radiated a different kind of energy today, that he would attempt to capture in his sketches. I floated through the day, waiting only for the night. Even the meal with the Gelaming seemed just like a delaying nuisance. I wanted to be close to Malakess again.

  The only hara present at the meal was a delegation of five Nagini, Chrysm Luel, Malakess and myself. Chrysm behaved himself quite well in front of the Nagini, and didn’t appear to offend them. He spoke earnestly of how the greatest tribes should co-operate in order to help the weaker tribes who needed support. ‘I know how Gelaming appear to others,’ he said, (as if he’d been coached by Sabarah, to be honest), ‘and that the Hegemony is renowned for its arrogance, but like you the Gelaming have only the welfare of Wraeththu at heart, and the welfare of the world itself.’

  It was a credit to Chrysm that he sounded sincere while saying that.

  Haruah and his companions listened patiently to everything the Hegemon said. It wasn’t possible to gauge their reaction, because they kept it hidden, but I had no doubt some private dialogue took place between them in mind touch.

  ‘I think perhaps we could talk about trade,’ Haruah said carefully. ‘There we might find mutual benefit.’ Clearly, the Nagini were going to proceed cautiously and see if the Gelaming could prove themselves.

  ‘Of course,’ Chrysm said smoothly, ‘although that’s not my realm of expertise. You should speak with the Hegemony Chancellor, Tharmifex Calvel, and of course the Tigrons and Tigrina. It would give me great pleasure to be able to arrange a meeting.’

  Haruah nodded. ‘Allow us time to discuss the matter in private,’ he said. ‘But, seeing as we’re already in your part of the world, it would make sense to visit Almagabra once our visit here is concluded.’

  I don’t know how Chrysm prevented himself from leaping from his seat with a victorious, air-thumping shout, but he merely inclined his head. ‘It would appear to make sense, yes. I’ll be around here for a while longer too. If you would like to discuss anything with me, I’m at your disposal.’

  I sincerely hoped that Malakess would get all he wanted from the Gelaming after this.

  Once the formal business was concluded, the conversation became more casual and I was able to speak to Haruah in relative privacy. ‘I see Nagarana has worked on your behalf already,’ Haruah said, grinning widely.

  ‘He has indeed,’ I replied. ‘Thank you, tiahaar.’

  ‘Learn from the past,’ the Nagini said, his expression suddenly intense. My skin prickled.

  ‘I will, tiahaar.’

  ‘I mean it, Gesaril. Do not repeat mistakes, and do not mistake events, and do not drape the present in the robes of lost days.’

  He spoke so fiercely, it was like a warning, as if he could see something in my future. ‘Tiahaar?’ I asked cautiously, hoping he would offer more.

  Haruah shook his head, then smiled again. ‘No, the world is light for you now. Enjoy it.’

  That night, I again took Malakess to my bed, and felt that I exorcised forever the malevolent ghost of Ysobi. New experiences were imprinted over my bad or painful memories. I saw a different side of Malakess, when he became utterly soume for me. He was almost coquettish, certainly playful, so that I actually felt older than him. A new me was emerging too. I could look back on the past and see myself as something like a larva; I was the dragon fly now with spreading iridescent wings. I dined with Hegemons and phylarchs from powerful tribes. I held my own in conversation and was respected.

  As much as I try not to think it, I wish that Ysobi knew about this. I want him to see me now, what I’ve become, so that I can turn my back on him; supposing I could do that.

  Pelfazzarsday, Ardourmoon 28

  As if the universe has heard me, this morning I have received some contact from Jesith in the form of a letter from, of all hara, Jassenah. It was a long, friendly letter, which surprised me, full of anecdotes about hara I’d known in the town. He thanked me warmly for the gift I’d sent. I noticed though that he didn’t mention Ysobi. He must have talked about everyhar in Jesith but for Ysobi, in fact. I was tempted to write back at first, but then remembered Haruah’s words and stopped myself doing it. I mustn’t open that door to the past. If a correspondence develops between Jassenah and myself, it could not be good for me. It’s a connection, however tenuous, with Ysobi. If I can’t let Jassenah go, I can’t let Ysobi go. So there it is: I must remain silent and not respond.

  But thinking about letters has made me realise I’ve not contacted my parents for some time. Neither have they contacted me, of course. Perhaps they’ve forgotten about me, lost in their dreamy realms. To remi
nd them I exist, I’m going to write a long letter to them now, telling them about the Nagini and the Hegemon and my life in Kyme.

  There… it’s done. As I was writing it, I considered how harlings are supposed to be close to their parents, but I’ve never been close to mine. They’re not cruel, or even negligent, but I’m not like them and have never been able to share their fairyland world. We don’t connect. I suppose they’ve been cruel and negligent without intending to be. They never recognised my pain, and certainly never helped me deal with it. Perhaps that’s what I should have been writing to them about.

  Miyacalasday, Fruitingmoon 14

  Chrysm only stayed in Huriel’s house for two days, but he certainly livened the place up for that short time. Now that he’d got the Nagini under his belt, as it were, and a visit to Immanion had been scheduled – complete with sedu transport, which must surely impress even the unimpressionable Nagini – he didn’t want to hang around too long. The Nagini made a big gesture to the Sulh too, in that they would leave four of their second generation hara in Kyme to study at the Academy. These young hara are cloistered away in the Academy towers, and from what little Malakess has told me about the arrangement, it appears that chaperones have been left with the students and that they will not be mixing too freely with the rest of us. I’ve been so enraptured by my relationship with Malakess that I haven’t give these students much thought. Although Malakess likes to be fairly private about our union, he did relax enough to put his arm around me in the evenings, when we sat and talked with the Hegemon in Huriel’s sitting room. Chrysm was an entertaining har, and even Huriel warmed to him slightly, I think, much to his own disgust. Chrysm definitely realised that it would be inappropriate to flirt with me, because he never spoke to me in such a way again. Malakess stayed at the house every night too.

  One time, as we lay in bed, wrapped in each other’s arms, I said, ‘We could stay at your house too, Kess. You don’t have to come here every time.’

  ‘It’s far more comfortable here,’ he replied.

  ‘Then maybe you should think about making your own house more comfortable.’ In those words, I knew, was the subtle implication that if our relationship continued, we would become chesna, and would live together.

  ‘There’s plenty of time,’ Malakess said. ‘I’ve never really cared about houses.’

  I didn’t feel I could pursue the subject. Perhaps Malakess is being cautious, waiting to see whether it’s possible for us to become chesna. The relationship is still so new. We still don’t really know one another, because we haven’t shared our histories. As for me, who vowed never to fall in love again, I don’t feel the same hot passion for Malakess that I once felt for Ysobi, even though physically we are in tune. For Malakess, aruna is a ritual, an act of reverence. He treats my body as if it were some fragile sacred artefact, almost worships it, but once out of the bedroom, he becomes reserved and somewhat inhibited. I understand the boundaries of our relationship, and it’s fine by me. I feel secure and the idea of being the consort of a high ranking har is not without its appeal. If I’m going to do something with my life, why not go for the best here in Kyme?

  The Gelaming went home, taking the majority of the Nagini with them. It seems the future looks hopeful for relations between the tribes. We all went back to work, but I spent more time with Malakess, learning about the administration of the library and its projects. He took me to see it, the vast underground labyrinth that was a repository of vast human knowledge and would become, so he hoped, equally full of Wraeththu knowledge. The library had a printing press, which although primitive by later human standards, could produce books. Malakess wanted to encourage hara to write, particularly about the past, the early days of our kind. We talked about this as we roamed around the maze of book stacks. ‘Will you write a book?’ I asked him.

  He pulled a sour face. ‘I don’t get the time.’

  ‘But you have a history.’

  ‘Yes, who doesn’t?’

  ‘I would like to know about it.’

  He laughed. ‘Oh, you yearn to unearth the reeking corpses of my past!’

  ‘You have reeking corpses in it, then?’

  He put an arm about me, drew me onward. ‘Not particularly. I’m fairly boring by Wraeththu standards.’

  ‘I don’t believe that! Tell me about what it was like in the early days.’

  He grimaced. ‘All right, a little. We used to discourage visits from hara outside Alba Sulh. We wanted to be mysterious and self-contained. It was a fantasy we had. It didn’t last long in the face of reality.’

  ‘You mean in the face of the Gelaming.’

  ‘Mostly. I was incepted fairly late, really. Hara had already begun to produce harlings, and the main communities had been established. I wasn’t there at the beginning. The hara who were are the ones who should be writing books.’

  ‘You were human once,’ I said. ‘That’s strange to me. I’d like to know about it.’

  ‘I can’t remember much about it,’ he said. ‘I was incepted young.’

  Even I knew that inceptions had rarely taken place before a human child was in their teens. How could he forget all those years of memories? I didn’t believe him. Still, if he didn’t want to talk about it, that was that. I could perhaps claw out further disclosures as time went on.

  I’d been thinking about the Sulh’s history as a whole quite a lot and wondered why there was only one tribe on our island, given that originally it had comprised several different human races. At one time, there must have been more tribes, but the Sulh had gained supremacy to become a nation rather than just a tribe, even though we still referred to ourselves as such. This intrigued me. There were certainly no books written about that yet. ‘Were there wars?’ I asked Malakess.

  ‘Yes,’ he answered. ‘There were always wars. The Sulh actually comprise several different major tribes who considered it best to ally.’

  ‘Do any of the other tribes still exist?’

  ‘To a degree, yes. They keep to themselves mostly, in inaccessible regions. And there are always the unthrist, the small groups of rogue hara, who ally to no tribe.’

  I was of course horribly and intimately familiar with such types.

  Agavesday, Mistmoon 29

  Well, it’s been a few months since the Gelaming and Nagini left Kyme, and I’ve got lazy with my writing again. I suppose this is because life continues now in the vein it began when Malakess and I got together. I spend most of my time with him, and it’s pleasant. Is that a good word to use?

  It’s strange how I have less of a desire to write now that I feel fairly content. Also, I’ve been kept very busy. The truth is I am writing, but it’s for my education, and has no place here. Huriel has started work with me on my caste ascension. Soon I’ll undertake the Brynie initiation, and that is the first tier of my training complete. It’s helping me to understand myself more and I feel in control. This is the training I should have received in Jesith. I can throw myself into the work and this time it’s so much easier, because there are no distractions. If Ysobi’s face arises before my inner eye, I can turn my back on it now. It must be over. It must be.

  Anyway, the reason I’ve come back to my account is that there’s an event on the horizon: the phylarch of Kyme is to have a birthday party. This is not to celebrate the day his human mother gave him life, but his inception, which he considers to be his true birth. All the local dignitaries will be invited, as well as a few high ranking hara from nearby phyles. I’ve received a personal invitation to the event, which demonstrates that my relationship with Malakess is known and approved of by – at the very least - the phylarch’s social secretary.

  The season has turned and the cold winter months crawl upon us. Snow has come early this year and already a fine dusting mantles the town. Furnaces are roaring in the cellars of the largest houses. Malakess has presented me with a fur-trimmed jacket, covered in embroidery. It’s a beautiful thing. I feel sure, and so does Huriel because we’ve d
iscussed it, that it’s only a matter of time before Malakess makes a formal proposal that we should announce a chesna bond. After that, we think it’s most likely I’ll move into his house.

  In fact, only yesterday we talked about it at breakfast. ‘Malakess has for some time talked about the idea of having a har to share his life and his responsibilities,’ Huriel said. ‘He just hasn’t found anyhar suitable before.’

  ‘And you think I’m suitable?’ I teased.

  Huriel smiled, buttering his toast. ‘He thinks so.’

  ‘Has he said as much?’

  Huriel took a bite of toast. ‘No, but we’re old friends. I know.’

  As to how this conversation made me feel, it’s difficult to tell. In one way, becoming chesna with Malakess seems a natural and preordained certainty. In others, I’m not so sure. It seems too easy. But do I only think this because of what happened in Jesith?

  Malakess and I don’t sleep together every night, but I’m alone only for about three of every seven. I haven’t set eyes on his assistant Iscane since the Academy party, but I think he must be aware of my attachment to Malakess. I sometimes wonder how he feels about it. I’ve only met the har a couple of times, which I suppose is quite odd, but on both occasions, Iscane oozed dislike. He must be jealous concerning his territory and his position. However, if I’m destined to move into Malakess’s house as his chesnari, Iscane will have no choice but to put up with it. I must admit that the thought of a formal bonding with Malakess, even if it isn’t as profound as a blood bond, is strangely erotic. I fantasise about us having a ceremony, during which I’ll sneak out to go to the bedroom. He’ll follow me there discreetly and we’ll do things to each other that we’ve never done. By all the dehara, I’m even thinking in terms of harlings – not because I want one, but because I know the aruna that creates them is the most rare and potent kind.