I’m supposed to be so persuasive. So charming. How is it I couldn’t convince him I would have given up all of it for him to stay?
He’d lost count of the circuits he’d made of his house, had re-entered the common room for perhaps the millionth time when Jol stepped in front of him, stopping him. With his usual blunt sincerity, the Nobek said, “Rivek is correct, you know. You can’t stop fighting Lanjur and the syndicate.”
“You miss him too.”
Jol didn’t refute him, but he was dogged in offering his opinion. “This election is bigger than three people who wish to spend their lives as a clan. Why do you think I haven’t tied you up and kept you from running for office? Even though those monsters might manage to kill you?”
Ospar thought of all the nights he’d wakened to find Jol still up, reviewing his security plans. Had he taken his Nobek’s constant worry and vigilance for granted?
On top of it all, Jol’s been denied the Imdiko he deserves. “I’m sorry. I never should have consented to the proposal to become a councilman. I’m putting us through bullshit we don’t have to go through.”
“But we do. I’ve accepted it. Rivek has accepted it. My Dramok, you could cause life to be fair and equal for everyone in this territory. You have the skills. You have the chance to claim the power from ruthless killers.” His expression was pained. “Do not apologize for any of it. I understand better than most that duty is a bitch.”
“No shit.” The hurt returned, squeezing Ospar’s lungs tight. Looking for any solace he could find, he slid his arms around Jol’s waist, appreciating the man who remained. “I have you. Thank the Mother of All.”
Jol’s gave him a level gaze. “I’m not going anywhere.”
“Then I’ll be okay.” Looking in his Nobek’s eyes, Ospar believed that.
“That will make Rivek proud.”
“It’s hard. It hurts, him being gone. But I’ll do what I said I would. I invited the responsibility, and I have to go through with it.”
But not with the Imdiko who Ospar already missed more than he’d imagined could be possible.
* * * *
Rivek sat cross-legged on the sleeping mat of Clan Blajal’s guest room. Jol’s parent clan’s home was located in a housing complex near the bottom of the mountain that included Itga Mining’s headquarters.
He spoke via his personal com to Master Agivan in a light tone that betrayed none of his sorrow. That took some doing. Rivek had fallen for Ospar and Jol, but he hadn’t anticipated the gut-wrenching pain of separation. The occasional outrageous urge to scream his grief swept over him. Every ounce of his mental abilities was engaged in keeping him sensible. His vast knowledge of achieving a clear mind was hard pressed to convince him not to race back to Ospar and Jol’s home and dare the syndicate to attack him.
I thought love was supposed to uplift the soul, not drag it over an endless plain of daggers. Rivek felt shredded and raw.
He forced himself to pay attention to Agivan. His mentor’s voice on the connection seemed as distant to Rivek as Kalquor’s five moons. “I appreciate your concern for the welfare of the temple. I will miss you, but if you are in danger, it is best to get you out of the territory. I suppose this ends your romance with Dramok Ospar and his Nobek?”
Rivek had been warned Lanjur’s men might ask questions of the temple’s personnel. Perhaps they would tap into its frequencies and listen in on private conversations. Under such circumstances, Rivek found it easy to lie to the elder priest. “It was not a good mix. I am grateful for the lessons I learned, however. Ospar and Jol were an excellent dalliance.”
He smiled despite the com being audio only. Doing so could convey an equanimity he did not feel. The stretching of his lips was tight, forced. Rivek hoped that part did not play out in his tone.
Rivek almost choked as he likened his relationship with Ospar and Jol to a dalliance. Mere hours had passed since he’d said goodbye to them, but it stretched a lifetime. Had he ever been as empty as he did now? As lost? No, and he hadn’t put five miles between himself and the pair.
If Agivan heard any of the angst in his voice, the old master said nothing of it. Instead, he worked on Rivek’s request for transfer. “Let’s check on what the network has. Several territories are calling for experienced masters. There is Citern Territory, Tonlew District.”
“On the other side of Kalquor.” Rivek’s first reaction was an automatic no. It was too distant from Ospar and Jol.
That’s the point. I’m supposed to get far away so they don’t worry about the syndicate coming after me.
He swallowed his reluctance and kept it under consideration. “It’s a thought.”
“If you don’t object to nine months of freezing temperatures, three districts in Yab Territory are also looking.”
“I’m sure they are.” There was no sunlight three months out of the year at Kalquor’s northern pole. Still, Rivek had never minded cold climates.
Agivan chuckled at his dry observation. “There is not a large population to tend to, and the ice caverns are said to be splendid. If you yearn for quiet and contemplation, that’s the place for it. Ah, here’s an opening for the exact opposite in Emahas.”
Rivek struck that off his options. “Of all the places I’ve traveled, I enjoyed the desert the least.”
“What of rainforests? Nonaza’s Zalri District is available.”
Despite the morose specter of leaving Ospar and Jol, Rivek’s interest perked up. “Near the old ruins of the Original Settlers? I did enjoy going there a few years ago.” Nonaza Territory was next to Wenza, but the Zalri District was on the far side of it. It was a decent distance from the syndicate—but not on the other side of the world.
The wildly overgrown territory, more jungle than not, was beautiful. Challenging. It would keep him distracted. “Zalri. Yes, I’d like that.”
“Excellent.” Agivan sounded pleased he’d been able to help. “I’ll put in for your transfer. I take it you need us to ship your belongings?”
“Please. And thank you once more for sending me enough clothing to get through the next few days.”
Rivek considered his cabinet and grimaced. The memories it stirred of sharing love with Ospar and Jol were foremost in his mind. His chest ached at the thought of not seeing either of them searching through its contents, an eager smile playing about a handsome face.
A less significant uneasiness sprang from the idea that the cabinet might be the source of great amusement to other masters. Not that Rivek suffered embarrassment for his generous libido, but he planned to return to Wenza Territory some day. What had been questionable while with Ospar and Jol had morphed into a definite decision to resume their relationship as soon as possible.
Rivek would return to them. He preferred not having to deal with too many knowing smirks from fellow priests when he did.
He suggested, “If Master Yubku would take care of shipping my belongings to the Zalri temple, I’d be most appreciative.” Imdiko Yubku had been an occasional lover before Ospar and Jol had excited his interest. A convenient playmate on lonely nights, Yubku was acquainted with Rivek’s cabinet. He wouldn’t gossip about it to other masters.
“I’ll ask him.”
After ironing out a few more details of Rivek’s transfer, Agivan bid him safe travels. Wishing his mentor well, Rivek signed off.
With nothing more to do except wait for morning, he looked over his temporary lodgings again. The lingering scent of freshly laundered linens and roasted ronka—that night’s delicious main dish—hung in the air. The guest room was pleasant but impersonal, a large space that included a sitting area and a desk. The attached lavatory was for Rivek’s use alone. It was a fine but unassuming home. Jol’s mother had not clanned for rank or riches, but for love. The romantic in Rivek enjoyed that notion, though her clan had done well enough for her that the home lacked no creature comforts. The guest rooms bore that out. Except for meals, Rivek did not have to venture out for any comforts.
> Except the comfort of company. Jol’s parents were kind, especially his mother and Imdiko father. Dining with them had given Rivek a tenuous link to Jol—but it made the loss of the man and his Dramok more acute than before.
Rivek wasn’t certain which was worse: sitting by himself with the void that had entered his world, or going out among others and pretending everything was all right. Especially when he saw that Jol had inherited his mother’s eyes, or Talu’s strong resemblance to his Nobek lover.
Coming to terms with leaving Jol and Ospar behind reminded Rivek of all those he’d counseled suffering breakups and losses over the years. He’d had no idea how bad the passing of a relationship could feel, even one that had a chance of being resumed.
“Now I understand what bereavement is. Or at least, a taste of it. I was an ass to think I had an inkling of what others went through.” The words he’d spoken to the grieved had been so much meaningless garbage, he realized.
It was a painful lesson. Important too, which Rivek would store and consult the next instance a mourner requested aid. It would make him a better priest. A more knowledgeable confidant.
Yet, what a price to pay for such insight! It was real world experience he wasn’t sure he wanted to claim.
At the same time, Rivek considered what he would have missed had Ospar and Jol never come into his life. The lively chaos. The constant pushes against his equilibrium that strengthened Rivek’s abilities. Yes, they’d interrupted the goal of perfect enlightenment, but in exchange, they’d honed him to serve others in a greater capacity. As Ospar had stopped chasing politics as a means to selfish pursuits, Rivek had done the same with spirituality.
He should be grateful he’d found men to love with all of his heart, who made him a better priest. Once he got over the agony of not having them around any longer, maybe he’d discover that appreciation. But for now, Rivek felt more grief than gratitude.
“Mother of All, I miss them. Grant me the strength to see this through, because all I want is to run straight back to them.”
Chapter 25
The month following Rivek’s departure marked a major turning point in Ospar’s campaign. After consulting with Axter and Golas on what he could say and do without legal repercussions, the candidate spared no allegation against his opponent.
Residents of the territory were spellbound to hear Ospar call for a criminal investigation into Lanjur’s connections to the Syodab Syndicate. He didn’t name the councilman as the actual leader of the group, but Ospar accused him of direct collusion.
He trotted out public records that either tied Lanjur to unethical dealings or suggested he’d been involved in such. His researchers chased down each piece of documentation they could find that linked Lanjur to Syodab.
Jol kept Ospar informed on the personal threats from the syndicate, threats that the Dramok made public. “I will not back down from this,” he told cheering crowds. “We’ll fight this disease that’s been spreading through Wenza Territory for too long. And we will win!”
Every instance of intimidation had the opposite effect of warning off Ospar. He saw the syndicate’s promises of retribution as the reason he’d been denied Rivek as a possible clanmate. They fueled his crusade to tear Syodab apart.
Better yet, the menace directed at him was an affirmation that Lanjur and his thugs were concentrating on Ospar himself. No warnings of revenge were aimed at those who meant the most to him, a welcome consequence.
Ospar took the increased pressure to mean he was scaring the hell out of Lanjur. The threats grew direr every day, and they delighted him in a perverse fashion. He was fucking up Lanjur’s enterprise. It was a heady triumph that he exulted in.
With each awful message promising his death, with each of the six attempts on his life that ranged from his shuttle being sabotaged to the syndicate’s favorite fallback of trying to blow his surroundings up, Ospar was spurred to step up his efforts. With Jol, the bodyguards, and Global Security keeping a watchful eye, none of Syodab’s attempts came close to harming him.
Ospar was certain Lanjur must have been getting desperate. The councilman’s popularity, taking greater hits from the almost daily revelations, plummeted as the election drew closer. His power waned as more and more businesses and civic leaders, groups he’d victimized for years, agreed to testify against him. All that remained was to unmask the councilman as the head of the syndicate and send him to trial for his many crimes. Axter told Ospar in confidence that day could come sooner rather than later. “Global Security said they’re on the trail of significant evidence against Lanjur. It’s proof they can move on.”
It was the best news Ospar could ask for. He felt the loss of Rivek’s wise and thoughtful counsel. He missed the Imdiko’s gentle, calm nature that brought peace to the Dramok’s stormy existence. Most of all, he longed for warmth and regard of someone who had become so much more than a friend. The void Rivek had left yawned wide when Ospar allowed himself to stop and consider it. He grieved for Rivek, as if his lover had died rather than moved away.
He couldn’t bear to visit the temple, not even to talk to another advisor. All priests were trained to advise people on matters of spirit and conscience, but for Ospar, only Rivek would do.
However, Rivek was gone. According to Jol, the spiritual master was ministering in a rainforest, of all places. Ospar’s Nobek had kept informed of the Imdiko’s well-being, but not Rivek’s activities. When Ospar asked, Jol said, “He’s safe. His bodyguards have reported no suspicious activity. He’s leading a normal, productive existence.”
“Is he happy?”
“They only mention his state of body, not of his mind. We’re supposed to treat this separation like the real deal. As far as anyone knows, we three have washed our hands of each other.”
Ospar sighed. He stared at the dozen news and political vids playing on a wall of his campaign office and didn’t notice a single one. All he could see was Rivek’s strong, handsome face smiling at him. What he wouldn’t do to kiss those lips again.
“Do you believe he’ll return when this mess settles down? He sounded so unsure of our relationship, though he said he loved us.”
“Who can say? Maybe he’ll decide love isn’t enough. Maybe you and I will decide that for him.”
Ospar shot the Nobek a grouchy look. “Why in the hell would I think that? Why would you?”
Jol got up from his desk and sat on Ospar’s, within touching distance. “We did it in this instance, didn’t we? You’re a champion to the people, Ospar. The righter of wrongs. If you continue on, you’ll make more enemies. If you realize your grand dream of the Royal Council, you’ll make bigger enemies.”
“Bigger than the syndicate? That’s difficult to imagine.” However, Ospar understood what his clanmate was saying. There would always be a cause to take up. There would forever be opposition. “Not every wrong has a criminal organization behind it. Things might not turn out so bad.”
“Who can tell?” Jol eased into a smile. “I hope that he’ll return to us too. I hope we’ll find ourselves in circumstances where we don’t have to worry about bombs going off or our shuttles dropping out of the sky.”
“Do you want him as much as I do, my Nobek? Has the affection grown with his absence as it has for me? And don’t give me that warrior bullshit of not speaking of it. I need to hear it.” Ospar wanted to know he wasn’t alone in hurting for the missing Imdiko.
Jol gave him a mock snarl before winking at his Dramok. “I’ll tell you because you are grieving too hard to see it for yourself. Yes, I feel a deep connection. There is a space in my heart, the little bit you don’t hog for yourself, that can only be filled by Rivek.”
Ospar stood and pressed a kiss to Jol’s lips. “Thank you for that. I feel just the same.”
“Then we’ll do all we can to bring him home when the danger has passed. To convince him to stay with us.”
“He has to. Every time I look to the future and think of him not being in it, it hurts. It
physically hurts.”
Emotion threatened to overcome Ospar. Jol squeezed his shoulder, his gaze understanding. For a moment, the Dramok considered huddling against his clanmate, to try to acquire solace in the other’s embrace.
Yet Ospar knew one thing would drive off the pain. He had to work on his campaign. He had to win the election. He had to keep plowing ahead and win not just the council seat, but the Imdiko who fed his soul and his heart.
Ospar kissed Jol again and sat down at his desk. He got back to the task of snatching victory from his enemies.
Jol gazed at his Dramok with sadness and affection. His want for Rivek was twofold: for himself and for Ospar, who often acted lost without the Imdiko. He wished he could have guaranteed the priest’s safety so they could be together as a threesome again.
At least Ospar had the right idea when it came to coping. Jol took his cue from his clanmate. He’d bury himself in work and leaving the unknowable for the future to sort out.
He rose from his perch on Ospar’s desk and returned to his own. At once, he saw he’d received a message from an operative identified as ‘Litt’.
Jol had sent the spy out to keep an eye on Rivek’s situation. The Global Security guys were the top of the game, but Jol liked having a backup for the backups. Lanjur appeared to have bought the ruse of the relationship being over, but it was best to be positive on that front.
He opened the text. It consisted of a few sentences, which did no more than reinforce what Axter had gotten out of Global Security earlier that day. The confirmation relaxed Jol a touch more anyway.
The quiet remains untroubled. No hint of interest from your friends.
Rivek continued to stay out of the syndicate maelstrom in his rainforest temple. Perhaps the threat to the priest remained and bided its time. Nevertheless, Jol was pleased to be told there was no trace of such thus far.
Clan and Conscience Page 29
