Many Roads Home (17 page)

Yveni squinted at him. “Now what’s wrong?”

“Nothing, boy. Be about your business and let me enjoy the quiet while you’re gone.”

The boy pulled a face and walked off. Paole leaned back against the tree. No, there was really no hurry to reach the place where he’d have to face the solitude.

It actually took three days before he felt he could go to Tarnul, but he refused to return to the wagon. He sat or dozed in the open air during the day, slept with Yveni in the tent at night. Yveni got on with the heavy chores, including washing the blankets and letting them dry in the hot summer sun, and air-drying meat to preserve it. Paole could do little more than prepare the sachets of remedies that sold well—pain relief, cold and cough mixtures, remedies to ease bruises, back ache and biliousness. Mathias had a tooth powder that was popular in some towns. He’d try that here again.

Yveni drove into Tarnul, disapprovingly thin-lipped. He didn’t think Paole should do this so soon. But if Paole let this route slip too far, he’d never recover it, and it was his livelihood. He had to show his face to make sure people remembered him, if he wanted to return to it once he’d recovered his health. If he ever did.

And the beggar had the nerve to call
him
stubborn, Yveni thought in exasperation as he left Paole sleeping like a dead man in the tent. He’d
known
going back to Tarnul a second day would be a mistake but would Paole listen? Of course not. And now they wouldn’t be able to travel the next day at all. Paole had earned some money, and they had food for a week, but at what cost?

It had been an interesting experience, though. Yveni now knew why so many of the poorer folk trusted Paole more than the local healer. Paole spoke on their level, understood their concerns, and why “three days’ rest” simply wasn’t practical for a mother with children under foot, a man with a farm to work or an apprentice with a busy master. He talked without arrogance to an elderly person unsure about a new treatment, and with compassion to a dying man who only sought some relief from the constant pain. To watch Paole at his simple stall dealing with the steady stream of anxious people, sending them away with hope and help, had been a privilege.

And something that had worn the stupid beggar out. Nothing to be done about it now. Yveni had plenty of chores to get on with, and Peni never minded a rest, so what harm would it do?

At least he’d seen no sign of Konsatin still making a hue and cry about him. No one had looked amiss at him, or commented on his accent or that he was with Paole. Their story that he was Paole’s new apprentice had been easily accepted. Paole planned to have the manumission papers witnessed before Yveni parted company with him, to give him a cover identity for travel, but there was no need for that as yet. Yveni was in no hurry to leave, which surprised him as much as it irritated Paole. He was, to his astonishment, enjoying himself, much as he had working with Raina.

So when Paole woke from his deep slumber and declared that he wanted to take up his practice again as best he could as they made their way to Dadel, Yveni only raised a token resistance. He could buy a horse at any time, and if Paole continued to improve, in two or three months Yveni could part from him with a clear conscience. A few months felt like a healthily distant prospect. He’d be ready to leave then.

They fell easily into a routine. Paole slept in the wagon as Yveni drove them from town to town, and spent two or three days in each place with Yveni’s assistance, with as much time for rest and recovery as he needed before they set off again. Yveni spent his free time reading up about treatments and medicines, and teaching Paole to read his native tongue, since the man was determined to understand the book Yveni had found.

The evenings passed easily, companionably. Paole could usually manage to sit up for an hour or two to talk about his healing craft, and Yveni, whose happiest memories revolved around being with Sofia or Gil as they worked, and learning what he could from watching and listening, loved to hear him speak. Of his past, Paole said little. Yveni understood the man didn’t want to reopen the scars, and respected his privacy. Of Yveni’s past, Paole couldn’t hear enough. The time together once spent in sullen, angry silence now rang with conversation, and even laughter.

They’d been on the road over a month, when in a town called Haente, a youth with a lovely, heart-shaped face approached Paole at his table as he dispensed. Yveni was talking to another customer and only saw the two conversing. But he knew at once who this boy was, or at least,
what
he was. His face grew hot and he turned away, forcing himself to concentrate on the nice elderly lady who was so worried about Master Paole’s health and determined to press a basket of baike fruit upon them. He accepted the gift graciously, assuring her that Master Paole was fine and recovering well. But his mind remained half on the unheard conversation to his left and the mobile features of the beautiful young man.

The youth pressed Paole’s hands quickly between his own, and gave him a wistful smile as he left. Yveni bit his tongue. Now was not the time to ask, nor the place.

Even after all these weeks, the town visits left Paole exhausted by the end of the day, and he accepted Yveni’s shoulder to lean on as they walked back to the wagon, burdened with the gifts of those who couldn’t pay and the coin of those who could. Paole would need to restock on herbs, he said. Business was booming.

No need to cook that night, as one of the gifts had been two small roast birds and a loaf of seeded bread. Washed down with mugs of sweetened tea, it made a handsome meal on a balmy late-summer evening. Paole was too tired to work on his Uemi reading, and Yveni felt like a break, so they lounged in front of the campfire and let the meal digest.

“You seem to be handling it better,” Yveni remarked, looking critically at his friend and judging his condition. No sign of a headache or stress. Just the loose-limbed relaxation of someone who had worked up to, but not past, his limits.

“Aye. I think there was something in that theory about the fever. I’ve spoken to several healers, and all expected me to be in much worse health. Hoped I would be, no doubt.”

“Ah. Too bad for them.”

“That’s what I thought.” Paole smiled a little over his mug of tea.

“Your friend isn’t going to visit?”

“Eh?”

“The…um, boy. You know. The pretty one.”

“Ah. No. I’m feeling better than I hoped but…not yet. And not with you around. Seems a bit unfriendly.”

“Don’t mind me. I’m only temporary. You don’t want to deny your friends on my account.”

“I’m not denying…why are you cross?”

“I’m not.” But Yveni sounded cross even to his own ears. “You should do what you like.”

“You mean like die quietly on my own of kirten fever as I wanted.”

Yveni screwed up his face. “That was just stupidity and you know it.”

“But it was what I
liked
to do.”

Yveni refused to dignify that response with an answer, pouring himself more tea and not meeting Paole’s eyes.

Paole said nothing for some time, and Yveni let himself be mesmerised by the play of flame on wood, the glow and fade on the embers. Paole’s low voice startled him a little when he spoke. “It’s a lonely life, this. I think that’s why my last master bought me. He wanted the company.”

“You were looking for an apprentice. Will you find one?”

“Not this year. The boys are kind, but when they leave, I feel…sometimes I wonder if it’s better to have nothing at all, than something wonderful that’s taken away from you.”

Yveni didn’t know himself. “You wouldn’t take any of them with you?”

“None of them would come with me. I’ve asked. It’s not the sex so much…”

Yveni’s face heated again and it was some moments before he could trust his voice to ask, “So much as what?”

“As being held. The only times I felt happy as a child was when I was being held, or holding someone. Another boy, a puppy, anything. I just wanted to feel close to something alive.”

Yveni drank more tea to hide the colour in his cheeks. “Because you missed your mother?”

“Most likely. But to talk to someone too. Mathias talked all the time. Used to drive me mad sometimes. I think he was making up for when he’d been alone for so long.”

“Mathias was your last master.”

Paole nodded. “Died of old age winter before last. A good man.”

“Did you love him?”

“I…respected him. Liked him. But he was a master. I couldn’t forget that.”

Had Mathias longed for Paole to do just that? Paole was an uncommonly handsome man. Had he perhaps wanted more than companionship?

“What will you do? Keep looking for an apprentice?”

“Don’t know. I never chose this path. Once or twice I’ve thought of going to Horches, or southern Karvis, where there are more of my kind. But making decisions makes me tired lately. I don’t want to even think of the winter.”

Why the winter? But then Yveni remembered what Paole had said about spending the winters in Dadel with his master. Just the two of them before and now him alone—and he feared being alone. “I’ll be gone by then.”

“I know that, boy. Don’t need to keep reminding me.”

The sudden harshness of his tone hit Yveni like a slap after all the friendly conversation. Like before, when Paole had been his master, when there was no trust or honesty between them.

Yveni quickly drank his tea and climbed to his feet. “Early night for me. I’ll see you in the tent.”

He walked off before Paole could call him back. He relieved himself and dove into the tent and under his blankets, hoping to be asleep before the big man came to bed. Paole’s company caused him unease now only at night. The more agreeable he became towards Yveni, the harder it was to ignore the fact a fine-looking, very manly man slept mere centimetres from him. Even Paole’s rudeness tonight couldn’t dampen these unwanted feelings. These
new
feelings.

He wasn’t asleep by the time Paole slid silently into the tent and onto his bedroll. Deep breathing and careful stillness wouldn’t fool Paole because his Healing Sight gave the lie away.

“Yveni, I’m sorry I snapped.”

“It’s all right.”

“No, it’s not. The truth is…I’ll miss you when you go. I know you have to go, and it’s right that you do, but I can’t pretend it won’t hurt. Just don’t want to be reminded, that’s all.”

“I know. I’ll…um…be sorry to leave. I’m enjoying it.”

“I’m glad of that. And who knows, maybe I’ll end up in Sardelsa looking for that training.”

“I’d like that. I wish it wasn’t all so far in the future.”

“Something to look forward to is no bad thing. Good night.”

“Sleep well, Paole.”

Chapter Nineteen

After that, they no longer pretended they weren’t dawdling, neither of them anxious to reach Paole’s cabin, and Yveni knowing he might have years of useless idleness ahead of him before he could act against Konsatin. The only pretence they made was that Yveni would use the knowledge Paole was determined to pour into his head. Paole would certainly use the Uemi, which he practised writing and speaking with Yveni whenever he could. Yveni wondered if the plan to go to Horches was more than a wistful dream for the man, and if he might go sooner rather than later. He didn’t dare ask. Talking about the future was too fraught for both of them.

Paole continued to steadily improve, but it would be some time before he felt completely well. He’d lost weight and still tired too easily, though he no longer needed to sleep in the wagon while they travelled, or spend a day resting for each day working.

The pretty boys continued to approach Paole. Each time he gently turned one away, a strange and embarrassing mixture of jealousy, relief and irritation boiled up within Yveni’s heart. He hated that Paole adjusted his behaviour in such a matter because of him, but was very glad not to have to listen to two men having sex while
he
wasn’t. But then it annoyed him that he gave a damn who Paole slept with at all. It was childish of him, and he was no longer a child, in years or in reality, though sometimes he felt no wiser than he had been at eight. When Paole gave him one of his rare, sweet smiles, Yveni’s tongue tangled up the way it had when he’d been a shy, motherless boy. He’d have to turn away rather than risk making a fool of himself by speaking.

In a little village called Nurn, Paole spent a good deal of time at a farm where the farmer’s wife supplied him with some of the rarer herbs and seeds he needed for conditions such as women’s heavy monthly courses and persistent skin rashes. The rather cranky and odd woman made it clear she grudgingly welcomed Paole as a customer but she didn’t want to deal with his manservant. Yveni loitered in the farmyard, admiring the poultry and wondering if he could buy eggs and feed for Peni here instead of waiting until the next town.

“You’re new.”

Yveni turned around at the question and found himself facing a sweet-faced youth of about his own age. “Yes, I’m Master Paole’s new apprentice.”

“Aren’t you a little old for that?”

“Perhaps.”

The boy stared with more intensity than politeness. What had Yveni done to offend him?

“I’d been looking forward to Master Paole calling again this year.”

“Ah. Good?”

The youth moved closer. “No, it’s not,” he said in a low resentful voice. “Now
you’re
with him.”

“I’m just his apprentice.”

“Of course you are. He was asking for a companion to travel with him last year. I guess he found one.”

“Look, I just work for him.”

“Maybe. If so, you’re either blind or stupid. Some people don’t know the chances they have.”

The boy turned on his heel and left. Yveni raised his eyebrows in surprise at such a rude conversation from a complete stranger, not to mention the assumption that Paole would automatically sleep with his apprentice. Or that the apprentice would want—

He stepped firmly on that thought. There was entirely too much unseemly talk about sex lately. He was a vicont, not a…a…whatever one called these boys who slept so happily with itinerant merchants. It wasn’t moral at all. If Paole wanted to pleasure himself that way, well, Yveni could make excuses because the man had so few chances of company. But these boys exploited his need quite shamelessly.

Full of righteous indignation, he didn’t even bother mentioning the strange encounter to Paole. Why should he bear messages from spurned men?

Then he had an almost identical conversation with not one but two boys in the next town. Righteous indignation gave way to bemusement at the assumptions by these youths. It was funny, in a sad way. One would think Paole was the only man left in the world, the way these vacant, pretty creatures carried on.

Paole returned from the healer he’d gone to visit just as Yveni had disposed of the last idiotic discussion on this subject. Paole jerked a thumb in the direction of the latest handsome twit. “What did Lars want?”

Yveni sighed. “Are you aware that half the people you’ve slept with assume you hired me to sleep with you and the other half think I’m insane because I’m
not
sleeping with you? They’re not very bright, are they?”

Paole’s mouth twitched suspiciously. “How many of them have you talked to?”

“Too many. If I find you’ve been telling them any of this nonsense, it’ll go hard with you, I swear.”

“I haven’t. I think they’re just…”

“Just…?”

“Uh…nothing.”

“Paole?”

“Never mind, boy. Time to go back to camp.”

Yveni
hated
being called “boy”, and he hated people hiding things from him. He sulked about it all the way back to their campsite. Between the stupidity of Paole’s paramours and Paole himself, he felt a sulk quite justified.

Paole ignored his mood, talking quietly about this and that while he stirred the bean stew that had been cooking in a hay oven all day. As he handed over a serving to Yveni, he said, “If any of them ask you again, tell them I’d never hire someone to sleep with me and who you sleep with is your own business.”

“That’s what I
have
been saying. They won’t listen!”

“Oh. Then I don’t know what else to say.”

“Nor I. You certainly have been thorough.”

“They just come to me,” he murmured. “I never ask.”

“They’re like dogs sniffing around a bitch in heat.”

Paole wagged his spoon. “No need to be rude.”

“They are.”

“You sound like you’re jealous.”

“I’m not! What of them? You can sleep with any of them, I told you that. I don’t like them assuming you’re sleeping with me, that’s all.”

“Well, you are.”

Yveni gave him an evil glare. “You know what I mean. You can be such a bastard.”

“And you’re a prickly little brat. Tell them to run away if they bother you. Or to talk to me. You don’t need to behave like you’re a stallion guarding a mare, defending your right to fuck her.”

Yveni pursed his lips, climbed to his feet and stomped off before he said something he
truly
regretted.

How ridiculous. He was supposed to be going to Horches, to regain his rightful place on the ducal throne of Sardelsa, and what was he doing with his life? Arguing with farm boys about who slept with, with…
him
. And he wasn’t
defending
anything. Or anyone. Certainly not anyone’s mare. Or their bitches.

He could die of embarrassment. Was it too late to run away? He should never have mentioned those idiot children and their even more idiotic conversations.

A heavy hand landed on his shoulder and he flinched. He whirled on his accoster. “What the hell are you doing, frightening me like that?”

Paole held his hands up. “Why are you so angry? I’m only teasing, and those boys mean no harm. Why waste energy on being upset?”

Yveni drew himself up. “I am a vicont of Sardelsa, not a brothel owner. Please arrange your affairs without my assistance.”

Paole burst out laughing.

“I’m serious!” Yveni wanted to hit him.

“I know.” Paole could barely get the words out for giggling. “You just sound…you should hear yourself. ‘Not a brothel owner’,” he mimicked, and whacked his thighs to express his hilarity. Damn the man.

“It’s not funny.”

“Of course it’s not.”

Yveni gritted his teeth. Why him, honestly. “I’m going to tell the next one who comes up to me that you’ve been saving yourself specially for him and you’re expecting a full night of conjugal activity. Then you can deal with his disappointment.”

“Maybe I won’t have to. Things have been working better in that area too.”

“I do
not
want to know about this, Paole. Please remember my position.”

Paole, still grinning, made an elaborate bow. “Oh, so sorry, your gracefulness. I had no idea who I was dealing with. Would you like me to lie down so you can walk over me back to the campfire without your feet touching the unworthy ground?”

“You can stop this any time, you know. You’re not the least amusing.”

“Of course not.”

He contorted his face trying not to smile, and though Yveni did his best to look disapproving, Paole’s expression was so ridiculous, he couldn’t keep it up. “You’re
horrid
.”

“Yes, I am. How about you come back and eat your stew, and I’ll try not to put my common person in your way.”

Still grumpy, Yveni agreed, even allowing Paole to replace his cold helping of food with a fresh, hot one. As he ate and ran over the ridiculous conversation in his head, something bothered him. As he set the empty bowl down, he turned to Paole, determined to make one thing clear.

“I don’t think less of you because you’re not noble. You know that, don’t you?”

“Yes. Not that I’d care. I was only having a bit of fun with you, boy.”

“Please don’t call me that.”

Paole lifted his eyebrows. “I’ve been calling you that for months.”

“Yes, and I hate it. Anyway, I turned eighteen weeks ago. I’m not a boy.”

“All right.”

“Thank you.”

Paole grunted and went on eating. Yveni drank his tea, and wished he could learn to keep himself under more control than he’d shown tonight. When he returned to court, he would face more than a little gentle teasing from his nobles. The ducal cabinet discussions could be quite fiery. Besides, it pleased him Paole felt comfortable enough to make fun. They’d buried the hostility of the past, and Yveni was glad of that.

He hadn’t, unfortunately, buried the other troubling emotions, and the conversation over supper had only stirred things up more. He’d never been so plagued by strange dreams and desires before, or such frequent nightly emissions. Doctor Kardwil had always taken pains to explain they were normal in a healthy teenager, but when camping out they were as tiresome as they were embarrassing. While the weather was so warm, perhaps he should sleep outside. There was always a risk of rain at night, though. There had been a shower the night before. Better to stay under cover.

So he curled up on his bedroll and tried to think of calming things, like the price of the grain they’d bought today, and designing a more efficient rabbit snare. By the time Paole came into the tent, he’d succeeded so well that he was on the edge of sleep.

“Yveni? You awake?”

He considered not answering, but Paole would know anyway. He settled for a noncommittal grunt.

“I’d never sleep with someone I employed. I wanted you to know that.”

Yveni grunted again. Why did he have to bring this up?

“I know you’re not really working for me, but I didn’t want you to think I’d do something like that.”

So why wasn’t he sleeping with him? Was he not good enough? Yveni suppressed a squeak of alarm as these thoughts popped into his head.

He
had
to stop thinking like this. Paole was…was…Paole. This wasn’t a suitable…anything.

“Are you all right?” Paole asked.

“I’m fine. Tired. Thanks for telling me.”

“That’s all right. Anyway, I know it’s different for the nobles and kings.”

Paole lay down, but now Yveni was wide awake and annoyed. “
What’s
different?”

“Who you sleep with. Always within your class. If those boys knew the truth they’d know it was ridiculous to think of you wanting to sleep with me. I’m only an ex-slave.”

Yveni sat up and glared in the direction of his irritating friend. “I told you, that doesn’t matter to me. You’re more than good enough to sleep with, and for your information, it’s not ridiculous.”

“Oh?”

The soft voice and sly tone, told him he’d walked right into a carefully laid trap. Desperately he tried to escape it. “But I don’t want to sleep with you. Not for that reason.”