No.
He gripped Kei’s shoulders again and set him back on his heels.
The sudden movement shook Kei out of his odd trance. “Oh, gods,” he muttered, sounding mortified. He struggled up to his feet, and didn’t offer a hand to help Arman get to his. “I’m sorry...I didn’t mean—”
“Nothing to be sorry for,” Arman said as calmly as he could, willing his cock to behave.
“I don’t know what happened there, I didn’t...I mean, I don’t....” Kei bit his lip again, and looked at the floor.
“You did nothing wrong, I promise you. It’s this situation...this...intimacy...is unusual...and I’m sure it brings memories back...and perhaps even desires borne of those. It’s nothing to be ashamed of.” At least,
Kei
had nothing to be ashamed of. Arman had no such excuse.
Kei wouldn’t look at him. “But I don’t really want anyone—or you. There’s no desire.... I really wish I could feel something that way,” he muttered, “then maybe I could feel normal.” He lifted his head. “I’m not normal.”
“Yes, I know. It’ll take time.” Arman’s head was too dazed with wine for a second conversation on this subject, and if it continued, he would lose control of the situation. That couldn’t be allowed to happen, for either of their sakes. “This is a topic we should set aside. Just go to sleep. I’m too drunk to make sense anyway.”
“Yes, my lord,” Kei muttered, but Arman got the feeling he was more upset with himself than with Arman.
Arman didn’t want the day to end with bad feelings. He took Kei’s arm and pulled him close. “You don’t offend or disgust me. Reji’s a lucky man.”
Kei looked into his eyes. “I doubt he’ll think so, even if I ever manage to get home to him. Goodnight.” He was clearly waiting to be set free, and once Arman did so, he lay down on his bedroll, facing away from Arman.
Arman managed to get his boots off this time without falling on his face. He sat on his own bedroll and looked ruefully at Kei’s back. He didn’t care how damaged Kei thought he was—Reji
was
a lucky man. He damn well better deserve Kei, that was all there was to it.
Kei had thought the difficult part of this journey would be the wrench of returning to his homeland, then being forced to leave it once more. He’d also expected being close to a hundred strangers for weeks on end would be a real test of his growing control. He and Jena had spent his last day in Utuk working intensively in preparation for just this, and it had repaid him well.
What he
hadn’t
expected was the nasty little trick his mind persisted in playing on him in making him forget he and Arman weren’t actually lovers. It had nothing to do with sex or desire, but he found himself reacting to him with the same unforced affection he would have given to Reji, and worse—Arman was responding. That he was doing this to both of them bewildered him, confused and terrified him, because he didn’t want to be a tease under normal circumstances, let alone these. Arman was as patient and understanding as any human could possibly be expected to be—but he wasn’t superhuman. They were blurring the lines dangerously between friendship and...something much deeper. Arman was as in need of comfort as Kei in some ways. Kei had no business offering promises with his body his heart could not honour.
He should have stayed behind, even with the tormenting he would have had in Arman’s household and the ache that would have filled him from dawn to night without having Arman close by. Rather that, than to feel an obligation to offer Arman more than he could bear. Arman said he wouldn’t take it even if Kei offered—and Kei believed
he
believed this. But two men forced together, friends who each needed solace—Arman would not be able to resist forever if Kei didn’t stop confusing the issue.
Too late to turn back now. He just hoped the exertions and difficulties of the march would distract both of them.
There was much to distract him. He had to regain his seat on the big urs beast Arman had found for him—he’d suffer for the first few days until his backside got used to the riding. It was a placid creature—they generally were as a species, but these were trained to be even more so—and responded easily to his commands, unlike some of the stubborn bastard animals Reji had owned from time to time and got rid of. Arman was on a beast taller than even Kei’s own, and cut an imposing figure in his battle armour, his standard carried in front of him, and his men in formation behind. Kei also wore armour—well, a breastplate at least. Arman had shown him how to put it on and how to stop it rubbing.
“It’ll stop an arrow or a sword thrust—you’ll wear it every moment you’re not actually sleeping, and even then once we’re across the mountains,” he said gruffly.”
It already felt awkward. “Is that really necessary?”
Arman had given him a hard look, but with regret behind it. “Loke wasn’t wearing armour. It might have saved him. Please keep it on.”
Kei agreed without demur. This journey was full of painful resonance for Arman. His grief had become more rational over the last few months, but it still caught him unawares sometimes. This situation between them didn’t help—Arman may not have lusted after Loke, but he loved him and was relaxed in his company. That he felt the same way about Kei only reminded Arman of what he had lost.
Still, the armour took some getting used to. At least he wasn’t obliged to carry a weapon of any kind. He continued to get curious looks from the men who
were
thus obliged, and sensed more than curiosity from them. They weren’t particularly hostile though—he sensed bemusement, some contempt, and yes, even a little lust, here and there, but so long as he wasn’t forced into physical contact with them, he could stand it.
The march to the foothills took two hours. The weather was overcast, and it started to rain as they reached the range, which meant it would probably be snowing up higher. The urs beasts could deal with snow—they ranged all over Darshian, living in the driest as well as the coldest regions, although the southern animals were generally smaller than the northern breed—but it would still be dangerous. Arman told him that since Kei had last been taken through the pass, much had been done to make it safer. Two bridges had cut out some of the most difficult paths, and there were numerous guides and markers to lead their way.
The rain continued, making the going slow. It turned to sleet, which made everyone muffle up in their cloaks against the sting and the urs beasts roar in complaint, although their footing never altered. After they’d ascended for several hours, Kei experienced the breathlessness he’d felt before. Arman felt it too, and called a rest for them all to recover a little, to stretch, relieve themselves, and eat some fish jerky and hard bread. Arman didn’t expect Kei to wait on him, so Kei dismounted and ate, keeping back from the soldiers as much as he could in the narrow path. He wondered why the air was thinner up here—was it the cold or the elevation? Something else to investigate in his later years.
They were only granted half an hour or so to stop, and then Arman gave the command to move. Kei was half way behind him along the trail, and for most of the day, could only see his straight back, riding with perfect ease on the big mount, every inch a man in control. Kei easily saw how Arman had reached nearly the top of the chain of command at the age of twenty-five. It was only when you took a second look that you remembered he was so young—and he rarely gave anyone a chance for a second look. He was, even knowing all Kei did about his gentler side, a daunting and imposing commander. His men may speculate about his sex life, but they had no qualms about following him on this mission.
Snow started to fall and the progress slowed again. They were forced to dismount and lead the beasts single file for two hours, by which time, despite the quality of his clothing and the exertion Kei was exhausted and freezing, too tired even to be afraid of the vertiginous drops at the side of the path. It was also growing dark, and with relief, Kei heard the lieutenant shout the command to stop and make camp.
He wasn’t sure what he should do next, but the decision was taken out of his hands as the sergeant moved down the line of soldiers. “You, attend the general. Take your beast, you’ll sleep at the head of the line tonight.”
“Yes, sir.”
He was ignored as he carefully led the animal along the ranks of men, already feeding their mounts and offering them melted snow. The urs beast could go many days without substantial food, but water was essential. A few men had already broken out the small charcoal stoves they all carried and were heating water for the ubiquitous cheym bark tea which Kei had drunk for much of his journey south. It wasn’t drunk in the houses of the gentility, but it was a staple stimulant and refreshment of the common man. Kei didn’t care for its smell, but it was hot, and right now, that was all that mattered.
Arman was feeding his animal. “Oh good, there you are—are you all right?”
“Apart from being exhausted, saddle-sore, frozen and hungry, I feel fine, my lord.”
Arman grinned. “I think that’s fairly normal for the circumstances. Hitch your mount next to mine—if you feed them, I’ll get the water.”
No one was the least curious that Arman was attending to himself and his animal this way. But then he would hardly be run after by his servants even in a bigger expedition—he wasn’t the type.
They watered the urs beasts, and Kei set the little stove going, a surreptitious use of his mind-moving power speeding the flint sparks to make the tinder catch. Hot drinks were essential—even Arman, apparently so superbly fit and strong, looked weary and chilled to the bone, and the night would only get colder. “Where will we sleep?” There was no room on the path for tents—the urs beasts took up too much room.
“Where we sit, more or less, against these hairy bastards,” Arman said, crouching down and taking the drink. “I hope they’ll keep us warm enough.”
“The men should move closer together,” Kei said softly. “It will be warmer for men and animals.”
“Yes, true.” Arman stood and moved to the group of men closest to them, speaking to them quietly. They nodded, and he returned. “I’ve told them to arrange the beasts and sleep between them. It’s no different from sharing a tent, after all. We don’t tend to think of things like that,” he added in explanation. “It doesn’t get this cold in Kuprij.”
“We don’t get snow in the north very often. It’s usually too dry, but the nights are bitter. The waterholes often freeze over.”
“Really?” Arman found that interesting. “But it doesn’t last?”
“Sometimes, if it’s very cold in the night and the day is cloudy. Then we skip rocks along the ice and scare the birds. I mean, I
used
to do that when I was a child,” Kei amended virtuously.
“You would never be so frivolous now, of course.” Arman was grinning at him.
“No, of course not.” Kei couldn’t help smiling back a little too.
They turned the stove off as soon as the water boiled—no sense in wasting fuel—and then the only warmth came from their own bodies and that of the urs beasts, too well insulated in their winter coats to donate much to their owners, but who formed a good shelter against the wind. The heat they did provide felt good at their backs. No one dallied over their meals, and the rumble of conversation through the ranks soon died away as the men settled, sitting up wrapped in blankets and cloaks and each other between their animals. Kei had little choice but to join Arman in a similar fashion. “I hope they don’t gossip about this,” he muttered as Arman drew a blanket over their heads, his other arm wrapped tightly around Kei’s body.
“They’re all doing the same, and if they feel as tired as I do, all they’ll be thinking about is trying to rest. As should you be. Gods, I’m so cold—I’ve never been this cold before in my life. Have you?”
“Once or twice, and I’ve slept under the stars more than that. Move closer, and don’t let any air in.”
He felt Arman shivering, and realised he was probably suffering more than he admitted. Under the blankets and the cloak, it was as private as a tent, so they could tangle their legs and arms together without fearing what it looked like—although Kei felt sure as the night got colder, Arman’s soldiers would do so themselves instinctively, looking for anything that would keep out the penetrating chill.
Kei’s urs beast let out a comfortable fart. “Oh, thank you, kind sir,” Arman grumbled. “That’s not the kind of warmth I need.”
“He’s only trying to help,” Kei said straight-faced, and was rewarded by Arman’s chuckle deep in his chest. “We’re not going to get much sleep tonight, I fear.”
“No, I know, but still try to rest. Tonight and tomorrow are probably the worst of it, if you can bear it.”
“Do I have a choice?” Kei muttered.
“Not at the moment,” Arman murmured, his beard brushing crisply across the top of Kei’s head. “Are you well otherwise?” he whispered.
“Well enough, my lord.”
“Good.”
A little more easing of their positions, and then Arman fell silent. His hands held Kei’s close between them, but his gloved fingers couldn’t feel the contact. If it wasn’t so damn cold, this would be nice. But if it wasn’t so damn cold, this would be a very dangerous thing to do. Kei didn’t know whether to be grateful for that or not.