“I know. But you don’t have one, and nor does anyone else in your nation.”
“Want me to dye your hair with gike bark too?” Kei asked, grinning. “The stain doesn’t come out.”
“If you like.”
“I’m not serious. You’d look like a jombeker. If you’re planning to grow that mop as long as mine, we’ll have to hire Reji to wrangle it for you.”
Arman caught him around the waist and pulled him to the bunk. “You’re the only one I want playing with my hair.”
Kei looked at him with dark, serious eyes. “You don’t have to become physically like us to be accepted. No one will hold your colour against you.”
“They will, but that’s not the point. My allegiances have changed, so I want to symbolise that. You think it’s foolish?”
“No. I understand. I just don’t want you to feel you have to fight for something already granted to you.” He pulled Arman to him and kissed his forehead. “Now, I’m going to do your leg, and you’re going to sleep for a couple of hours. You look utterly worn out.”
“I feel it. I’m almost numb, I think, I’ve had so many blows. I feel I should be feeling things more deeply, but I’m so tired.”
“That’s part of the grief,” Kei said, making him lie down, and moving so he could take Arman’s leg in his lap. He didn’t bother with the cream.
“Are you going to use your gift?”
“Yes, this time I am, because you’ve really done some damage. You will
not
walk around tonight, do you hear me? I won’t allow you to be crippled to be part of Meki’s damn display.”
“He’s really annoyed you, hasn’t he?”
Kei leaned forward and poked him on the nose. “You’ve annoyed me—at least your leg has. Now, close your eyes and breathe the way I showed you. This may hurt a little, but it will feel better in the end. You need to untense. Your whole body is as tight as a bow.”
“Perhaps I’ve had good cause to be tense,” he snapped, but regretted his ill-temper immediately. “I’m sorry.”
Kei held his hand up. “I never said you hadn’t good cause,” he said quietly. “My concern is the effect on you. These are not small sorrows. They’re the most painful things a person can experience, losing friends, family, position—even property, though I know you don’t care. And then there’s Karik.”
“The child means nothing to me beyond my concern that he’s cared for properly and raised with the love neither I nor Mayl could have given him.” But even as he spoke, Arman felt his chest getting tight and his eyes were itching again. He had no idea why.
“He’s another loss. He represents...a family, your own real son. Things I can’t give you,” Kei said quietly.
Arman tried to sit up but was sternly ordered to lie back again. “
You’re
my family. I don’t want a son, or a child. I just want you.”
“Yes, I know that. But perhaps your heart doesn’t, not yet. I think part of you wishes you could have a child of your own. It wouldn’t be natural if you didn’t, and the two griefs...so close together, so new.... There’s nothing wrong with feeling sad Karik isn’t your child, after all.”
Arman grimaced as Kei did something that hurt his leg, but then it was followed by a pleasant sense of warmth. He tried to obey Kei’s wish that he relax, but it was difficult when Kei was talking about something so painful, something he didn’t want to acknowledge to himself at all. He put his arm over his eyes and Kei continued to massage his leg in silence. But again, there was something more.... “Kei, are you doing something to me?”
“I’m rubbing your leg, can’t you feel it?”
“No, something...like you’re taking away some of my mental pain....” He uncovered his eyes and found Kei looking a little guilty. “You
are
! You damn idiot, stop it! You don’t need my feelings on top of your own! Kei!”
“I’m sorry, but I’m not going to stop. It’s not hurting me half as much as feeling your distress. Calm down, will you?”
“No, damn it, I will not calm down! Who gave you leave to harm yourself on my account!” He struggled up and pulled his leg away from Kei’s grip. “You fool, you’re injured yourself and look at the fuss you make at me walking on a damaged leg, when you’re doing something which could send you insane.”
Kei folded his arms, and his expression closed off. “I know what I’m doing.”
“I forbid it. I won’t be the cause of you damaging your gift even more. Gods, you’re the only person left to me, how can you allow yourself to be hurt again?” Kei grabbed his shoulders to stop him getting off the bunk and Arman pushed back—only he misjudged the force and Kei stumbled, falling off the bed and landing on his backside. Arman stared at him in shock. “Gods,” he whispered. “Oh, gods.” He covered his mouth, horrified at displaying violence to Kei in this way. “I’m sorry....”
Kei scrambled up and came back to the bunk. “Don’t be stupid, I know you didn’t mean that. Stop it.... Arman? Please, don’t do this.” He wrapped his arms around him. “I’m not hurt.”
But it was like a dam being broken. Arman couldn’t stop shaking, or get his voice back under control. If he couldn’t even protect the one he loved more than life....
Kei was shaking him gently “Arman! Stop it, you did nothing, it was simply an accident.”
Arman clutched at his shirt. “I’d rather send you away than hurt you. I deserve all of this and more—”
Kei shook him again, and this time it wasn’t gentle. “Stop this now! Arman, look at me. Now, damn you!” Startled by the fury in his words, Arman obeyed. “Listen to me. No one deserves this. No one will send me away. You’ve not hurt me and I know you never will. You’re just overwrought, not seeing things in a reasoning way. This is why I was trying to take some of your pain,” he added more quietly. “I wanted to help you. It’s what I do, you know. I’m a healer. I know my limits better than you think. Maybe you need to learn to trust me as much as I trust you.”
“I do,” Arman said, muttering against Kei’s shirt.
“Then trust me now. You really do need to relax for an hour or two.”
“Stay with me...everyone else has left me.”
“Of course I’ll stay, but I won’t sleep so we’re not late. I’m not tired, but you are. Lie down again. Put your head on my lap, if you like.”
Arman slid down, feeling like a complete fool, but also a little wild and unable to settle down, as if all his grief, all the pain in his heart was falling in on him and he was helpless to stop it.
Kei stroked his hair. He didn’t speak, but Arman felt himself easing with every moment. Kei was doing it again. “Stop it,” he whispered.
“No. I won’t have you suffer when I can help.”
“I can bear it.”
“You don’t have to, and I don’t want you to. Close your eyes. I need you to do that for me.”
Arman could only obey the gentle but firm command. “I’m sorry.”
“Please don’t. You’ve had a very sad day, but I’m proud of being able to help, proud to be loved by you and to love you.”
At those words, Arman turned his face towards Kei’s leg and he had to fight the tears pressing at his eyelids. He couldn’t handle another thing now. It all hurt so much...it was just too much to bear...and he was too tired to think....
~~~~~~~~
As Kei felt Arman drifting into true sleep, he sighed with relief, rubbing his forehead to drive his incipient headache away. Arman’s emotional tempests were fortunately rare, but they were always overwhelming for both of them—the price Arman paid for his powerful control and determination to behave with honour. If it hadn’t been Arman experiencing it, Kei could never had dealt with being so close to his pain at all, just as Kesa’s sad little soul would have driven him almost insane if Arman had not been in the calash with him.
He kept up the gentle stroking of Arman’s hair, hoping to drive away any bad dreams. There wasn’t time for a proper rest, but the man was so overburdened Kei seriously considered begging the Rulers to excuse Arman from this dinner. Only the fact Arman really was necessary, and more than that, deserved to see the culmination of his efforts, made Kei refrain from using Neka to contact Lord Peika. All Kei could do was let Arman sleep for as long as he could now, and take what pain he could from him.
Poor Arman. To have lost both surrogate and real father, and even the illusion of a son, were impossibly cruel blows to deal with in the space of a day, and to have it on top of everything else.... He wasn’t thinking clearly, and his emotions were all in a tangle, fighting to control him rather than the other way around. Look at this stupid business of Kei tripping. He’d seen the shame in Arman’s eyes, as if he had suddenly become this disgusting thug—as if Kei would stay for a minute with someone who would hurt him deliberately. Arman had never even struck Mayl, so far as Kei knew. For such a powerful man, Arman was actually very gentle.
He laid his head against the bulkhead and resigned himself to two hours or more or inactivity, not that he minded. If he’d asked Arman to lie the other way, he could have kept up the massage on his leg, but Arman needed the emotional comfort more. If Kei concentrated, he could do a little good from where he was sitting, concentrating on overworked, inflamed muscles, and aching bone. If Arman wasn’t careful, he’d have to go back to using the crutches again. Hard, though, for someone used to physical fitness, to bear a disability. Kei felt that with his gift, always wanting to do more, be more carefree than he could be—they both had to accept their limits.
He could reach the comb sitting on the desk, so he fetched it and smooth Arman’s unruly hair, trying to imagine it in a long braid and failing. It would look like a wild vine, he thought, shaking his head at the idea. He could just about manage to braid it in the position he was in, so he did so, taking the tie from his own hair to tie the short tail into position. It was only three inches long, less than any respectable prepubescent Darshianese could boast. But it would grow. Kei regretted the beard, but he couldn’t help be curious to see Arman’s face without it. How he would shave it, Kei had no idea. Razors for personal use were completely unknown in Darshian—not much call for them one way or another. Some men who had stray hairs on their chins plucked them out for tidiness, and he had tweezers in his medical kit, but the thought of pulling out a beard like Arman’s, one hair at a time, made his eyes water.
Arman’s decision to do this made Kei glad, even as he ached for his sadness. Every move, everything Arman had done today had been intended to cement his new life, to break ties with his old one, no matter what the pain. It was humbling Arman would do so much, give up so much to be with him, and it shamed Kei that he had thought coming to Utuk to be with him would be too great a sacrifice. If Arman had wished it, Kei would stay and find a way to be happy. He wanted to give everything to Arman. He was just scared of losing everything in the process.
He could reach his medical text off the desk, and spent two hours reading before realising it must be coming up to when they needed to leave. Arman was still soundly unconscious, and Kei really hated to wake him.
Neka, how long before Lord Meki needs us?
A little over half an hour, Kei. You really should be getting ready.
Damn. Thanks. Just waking Arman now.
He shook Arman gently. Arman came awake with a jolt, looking up at Kei with startled eyes. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing’s wrong, we just need to get you ready for the dinner.”
Arman groaned and tried to push himself up. “Gods, I ache all over.”
Kei helped him sit. “Because you’ve been holding yourself so tight, I told you.” He kissed Arman into a little more wakefulness, and sensed he was calmer, if still very sad, and still guilty over the idiotic fall before. “It’s not your fault there’s not enough room here,” he said, slipping his arm around him. “If you’re going to torment yourself every time I fall on my arse, I’ll have to borrow your walking stick to make sure I don’t ever slip over.” He kissed his forehead again. “Do you really mean to shave? We only have half an hour, and I don’t have a razor.”
“I do,” he said quietly, getting to his feet, and wincing as his bad leg touched down.
“Sit. Tell me where it is.”
Arman sat back on the bunk. “In my pack there, the one from the house. No, that one.”
Kei rummaged through it, finding a hairbrush and other grooming items. “This?”
“Yes and the whetstone. I’ll need soap...maybe there isn’t time,” he muttered distractedly.
“No, you said you would be shaven, and so you shall. I’ll fetch the soap.”
“Pass me the comb and the scissors, and that little mirror.”
Kei did so and then fetched the bar of soap, a cloth and the washbasin of water. He watched in fascination as Arman carefully clipped the beard close, and then lathered up his skin. “Never seen this done before?” Arman said as he sharpened the razor, leaving the lather to soften the bristles.
“Not on a human. I’ve seen jombeker hides shaved before being cured.”
“Same principle.”
“Yes, but the jombeker hide won’t bleed.”
“Neither will I if you don’t distract me. Now you know why I don’t bother with it in the field.”
Kei winced as Arman scraped the bristles off his chin. “Does it hurt?”