288 - You have no mercy

The words were still halting, but less so, after that. Each time I thought of Alchaen or the others in the dark, I amended the thought with what Mirasae had said, and my own resolution. They are there, I am not, and it is better for them that I am not… Not entirely true, since Kurkas would take me in exchange for all of them in an eye-blink, I knew, but I also knew that, given the free choice, they would not agree to that. We all are where we are, I have my course set out and it is a good one, and I just have to accept it.

The next morning I had nightmares that set me back, but a massage from Kaninjer, another flight with Niku and a short talk with Mirasae got me back to merely halting again. I could handle myself in conversation unless it became an argument intense enough that people forgot the courtesy of not interrupting. So I met with Emao-e, Amintris and Kaninjer.

“We cannot speak for all Haians,” was the first thing out of Amintris’ mouth. “Even all of us who are with your army cannot speak for all Haians.”

“There is no… Speaking Elder now… and the Elders of… the council…” I said. I took a deep breath and a sip of water. “…are probably under some… sort of house… arrest. Not allowed… to meet… definitely.”

“Chivinga?” Amintris said. “May I ask—”

“It’s what Kur…” No surprise, I couldn’t even get the name out. “Kan, tell her… you have my… leave!”

He explained to her at some length in Haian. I caught only the names “Arko” and “Kurkas.” She listened carefully, then turned to me and said, “I understand. If they cannot meet to discuss it, we cannot ask them.”

“This is… why… I’m asking you,” I said. “The Haians… here…”

“Chevenga, you’ve written to Breicia about getting in touch with someone on Haiu Menshir,” said Emao-e. “Perhaps that way we can ask the Elders to take a vote by writing? Depending on how closely-watched they are, it could mean some tricky darkwork, and it’s dangerous, but it might be possible.”

“That could… take all winter…” I spotted my own weakness, being in too much of a hurry. When you see one, you can counter it. “But it’s… due process… all right, all right. We’ll at least… investigate… whether… this is… possible. But… I still… want to know… what our Haians… here think. Amintris… can you ask… around… quietly? Get an… accurate measure?” It would not be a perfect indication of what Haians on Haiu Menshir would think, but it would be something.

“It’s already being talked about,” she said. “I think most would be against it, but I don’t know that for sure. I will ask more thoroughly. I myself am against it—it would be the same, or worse, as what happened in spring, and no blood should ever be shed on Haiu Menshir. I know how intense your feelings are, Chivinga, and I have just learned more of why. They are not what should decide this.”

I took a deep breath, and said, “True.” What else could I say?

Emao-e stayed after Amintris left. “You’re better, but I don’t want to set you back. No more work, yes? Let me deal with whatever must be done with this in the rest of the ten days.” I signed chalk.

When she left I was just with Kaninjer. “What’s… your opinion?”

“I… Chivinga, I do not have one. I have seen that I must stay out of politics.”

You are in politics by the fact of being my personal physician, I thought. Like it or not. I decided never to say that to him, in case he quit. But I wondered if he had really meant “I don’t know, but I am too embarrassed to say to you that I am not entirely against.” Or, “If I tell you I am not entirely against it, you will seize on it, warmonger that you are.”

Hurai did not get back to me about Esora-e that day, nor the next until I sent Makaina for him. Were they conspiring to rest me? Mirasae granted me both forgiveness and permission for whatever I was going out to those hills to the east to do, since I’d survived and in fact come back in a better way. When I told her that training had speeded my improvement on Haiu Menshir, she cleared me for that, too. Other than that, there was nothing to do but read, write letters and turn down requests for a meeting with Filias. She kept up the restrictions on who I was with, except in training, which was just as well, since I wanted to be with none but family and close friends. (A-niah were all family, of course.)

“I haven’t seen your shadow-father myself,” said Hurai. “Kesera”—Shae-Makina, the heavy-armed elite commander—“says he’s in a funk, yes, but it’s not deadly. He’s off training, but it was for a half-moon by request, saying he just wanted a rest, and he’s about halfway through it.”

“So, no psyche-healer.”

He signed charcoal. “And I’m not going to override it on your say-so, when you haven’t even seen Esora-e for however many months, and he has.”

“But… what if Kesera… is missing something… because he… doesn’t know… Esora-e well enough?” It all seemed to be adding up to the same thing; I should see him myself. I could not summon him since I could not give orders; but if I went to where he was and tapped on the door—well, he might slam it in my face, but I could try. It would be a strain on my heart, as Mirasae was trying to avoid, but I could easily pass off a visit to my shadow-father as leisure. “I guess… you’ve done all… you can, Hurai… thank you.”

The heavy foot elite, who were about a hundred and fifty, were staying in the new barracks, the only barracks I’d ever seen with Arkan-glass windows. People were mostly in twos, threes or fours per room, but he had one of his own. He was single; I suspected also that he wanted to be alone.

I went down early in the morning of the next day, before breakfast, when I knew by habit he would be up for sure. I tapped on the door.

“What?” His voice was gravelly and had a tone of ‘No one ever taps my door.’ “If it’s not orders, go away.”

“Shadow-father, it’s me.”

There was absolute silence. It stretched on. From another room I heard the grunting and giggling of a play-wrestling match. A pair of warriors heading out passed me, saying “Nye’yingi Chevenga” as they went by. The silence went on, as if he’d died. “Shadow-father… are you… all right?” More silence. If he can’t get words out, I thought, I’m hardly one to criticize. “Shadow-father. At least… tell me… if you are… refusing to speak… with me. That way… I can know… I can just—”

“Why in kyash are you talking in bits again like you were on Haiu Menshir?”

Well, he was speaking to me. “I… had a relapse. Shadow-father, will… you let… me in?” A clutch of warriors was coming down the corridor now, and I didn’t want them to hear even half our conversation, such as it was.

“Is that an order?”

What was the correct answer here? Yes, because he wouldn’t open the door by choice? No, so as not to dictate to him? It didn’t matter. I had to say the truth. “No, shadow-father.” Silence stretched again. The warriors passed, giving me their greetings. “I will go away if you wish.”

I heard the hissing of an indrawn breath through teeth. “All-Spirit!” he spat. “I curse the day you were born! That cold heart, always insisting on power, right from when you were a child, and now come into fullness… you have no mercy, Fourth Chevenga. Ah well, I’ve insulted you, now, haven’t I? Go on, then, go away, I know I will not hear another word.”

I stood frozen, prickles spreading all down my arms and legs. One part of me felt as if a sword were going in; another whispered, I am looking into the face of true madness. The way to answer it, either way, was with calm. “Shadow-father…” I made my voice as even as I could. “You are… predicting, you… are commanding… you are not answering… my question… may I come in.” Silence again.

I have to do chiravesa here, even if it only goes one way, I thought. I have to understand… what am I to him? Imagining myself him expelled from the darya semanakraseye made it come to me, even though it made my jaw drop. Mirainga kept saying, being in it was everything to him. There is only one person who can reinstate him. He sees me as the power over him, perhaps even over his life or death, as if I were Kurkas and he were an Arkan. And he hates me for it. We are no longer just two equals, for whom the meaning of ‘May I come in,’ and an opened door is just ‘May I come in’ and an opened door. I wanted to throw up.

“Shadow-father…” What do you say to this? I tried to know what he would most want to hear, to ask myself if I could bear expressing it, or express it sincerely. Humility? Contrition? Boyish need? “Shadow-father…” I finally said, “I love you.” He made a sound like from having an arrow pulled out. Then there was silence again. “I was angry at you,” I said. “I demoted you… for doing something… hugely irresponsible. But I never stopped loving you. And it hurts… my heart… more than you can know… about you… and my other parents.” Silence again. Three warriors were down the hall, pretending to be lounging, but very obviously listening. I gave them a look. They moved off. “Do you… want me… to swear?”

Silence again, and I was just opening my mouth to give him more of my miserable excuse for speaking when he said, “Come in, lad.”

“All-Spirit, shadow-father!” He was so emaciated his face looked like a skull, the skin disappearing into the shadows under his cheekbones, his eyes staring out of gaunt sockets. What is Kesera kyashin thinking, not noticing this? “I was told you were starving yourself, didn’t know whether to believe it, and now I see it’s true, Saint Mother help you, why are you doing this?”

“Heh,” he chuckled, his face lighting in a smile like a skull’s rictus. “My child! Did you hear that?”

“What!?” I’ll haul him to… the thought trailed off, like hopeless words. I had been thinking, the House of Integrity.

“You said that smoothly. All in one piece.” He laughed again. “Lad… I’m sorry. I shouldn’t call you that. You haven’t been a lad for years. Ceased being one long before you should have.” I said nothing right away, both unsure what to say, and sure that now I’d been reminded, my tongue would trip over itself again. He was on the bed. I sat on the chair next to it. On the night-table he had a shrine to my shadow-mother; images of her, a lock of her hair, some papers with his name in her writing, a candle burning though the room was filled with daylight, coming through the Arkan glass.

“You have to… eat more,” I said finally. “I’m going to… make sure… you get orders to.”

“I try. I can’t make it go down. My mouth and tongue and throat all close up, saying, ‘What do I have to live for?’”

“A thousand… thousand things.” I seized on what I thought was likeliest. “You want to… see the war… to its end… don’t you?”

He made a brush-off sign. “Foregone conclusion,” he said. “The moment you came back. What I said, if you did your best, if you practiced enough, you’d be the greatest warrior in the world—is proven. Deny it?”

“I am nothing… without… other warriors,” I said, then willed the next words to come out as one for all I was worth. “Such as you.”

“So long as I am fighting nowhere near you, yes, I know.”

If what Mirainga wrote is true, that the only thing that can save him is being reinstated, then I have to, I thought. But I want him to rescind his intention toward Niku.

“Shadow-father… we should do… chiravesa,” I said.

“Yes,” he said. “Being you… is… very… easy… right now.” He let out a brittle laugh. It crazed slightly through my bones, so tense I went. When I unclenched my teeth, it hurt. Is he testing me? Playing with the dragon’s tail, since he has cast me as the dragon? “Seriously… you know me. I’ve never been one for much chiravesa. I have a hard enough time being myself.”

“Can you not… understand this… she is… the one… I love?”

“Oh?” Another brittle laugh. “I could have sworn for a while there it was he of the steel thighs, everyone’s favourite shieldy-handed Arkan.” It hurt my teeth to unclench again. I should just walk out of here, as cold-hearted as you say I have always been, and let you kyashin die.