340 - Everyone has their protections

29 Epir | Osijitz, Arko

Dear Mamin:

I think I am starting to get what they called in Emotional Healing class, depression. It often seems to me that the world has turned evil, and I hate my life. I try not to think of it, I try just to do my work, think of the patients and the medicines, see the beauty of the sky and of nature, remember the good things. But the bad things flood in and the good things turn distant. That description of the feeling of everything being dark or black is very accurate.

I cannot write you. I cannot know how you are, and how everyone is. I cannot communicate with anyone I love. I know that Uncle Merchoser and Megidan and Kaninden and all the others are – I don’t even like writing it. Captive. Of Arko. I don’t know what is happening to them, I have no way of finding out and no idea of how long this is going to go on, or whether any of them will be alive at the end.

I have no other love in my life, because the one time I fell in love, it turned out all to be false, the woman a liar and a spy. I’m afraid to fall in love again, because I obviously don’t have any judgment when it comes to who to fall in love with.

Haiu Menshir is occupied, and being destroyed in spirit, so much so that a Haian has become a warrior. Haian techniques that are meant for healing are being turned to war and harm—not only has Boralaer taught himself how to do that, in battle, but Chevenga has decided it’s going to become a standard part of Yeoli war-training, and is having him teach warriors in the army here.

But what’s maybe worst, I am on Arkan soil. I am marching with aggressors. And I hate my employer, but love him at the same time, and the part of me that hates him hates the part of me that loves him.

Did he deceive me, back when we first talked about my taking the position? Was he planning this? I don’t think so, else it wouldn’t trouble him as I know it does. Yet if it troubled him, why did he sign chalk, that he wanted it? Why did he do those things to persuade his people?

I remember, as if it happened a moment ago. I remember saying, “I don’t think I’d be healing an evil person by being your healer,” and how he cast his eyes down, and when they met mine again, how full of sadness they were. And him saying, “I must fight the war, and that means being what I must be.”

I remember him saying, “You would not even be able to look at me, if you knew some of the things I’ve done.” And how, after what he did in the harbour of Tinga-e, it was true; I could not look at him, for a while.

I checked the contract. It says what I thought it did: I’m not bound to him for any set length of time, only as long as we both agree. I could quit any time.

But Mamin… I also remember when he wept, sharing with me that he had not wanted to be a warrior as a child, and I held his hand. I remember that it was Kurkas who started this war; Chevenga tried to head it off by going on a peace mission. Every morning and night, when I check him, I see the scars, and I know, when I see them, that they are not the worst, because the worst are inward and so invisible. I see the desperation and rage and shame in his eyes when the trace of traumatic aphasia he still has silences him; I feel his muscles tense, his mind fighting panic, when I give him an injection. I’ve read Alchaen’s file, once. I had to take a dose of calming essence to get through it, and several others afterwards, and even so I couldn’t sleep that night until I took sedative.

Like every Haian, I was taught that there is no such thing as an evil person. There is no evil, only madness; the notion of evil comes only from our negative emotions, out of our fears; evil is merely a name for what we fear most. But after I read the file, I thought, ‘yes, there are evil people.’ Even after I recovered, I wondered. It can’t only go one way. The notion of goodness comes only from our positive emotions, does it not?

There is only madness and sanity, then. But what is sanity? Chevenga came away from Haiu Menshir sane, though he was not entirely cured, and is fully aware of that. He is certainly capable… another measure of sanity. But… Spirit of Life, I should have taken more Emotional Healing. Not just to understand these things better. He’s needed a psyche healer more than once, and I’m not qualified. He goes to a Yeoli one. You know what I think? All graduates who are going to work on the mainland should take more Emotional Healing than I did. It should be a mandatory major component. We need it.

As if I, or any other Haian, has a say in decisions made on Haiu Menshir now.

See… my mind is going around in circles. I can’t even keep it in order by writing any more. I took my constitutional and I’ve taken others, but, as they say, the Haian who prescribes for himself has an idiot for a Haian, so I should go to Kimaer or Amintris or someone else, but I’m ashamed to. And I just go on doing what I am doing, almost mindlessly, feeling Chevenga’s pulses and giving him his medicines morning and night, watching what he eats and making sure he sleeps enough, keeping him healthy and strong so that he can do this thing he is doing.

I spoke again with Boralaer. I was ashamed to write it even though I’m not even sending any writing to you. But I guess I will now. You know what he said? “Kaninjer, you are doing more for Haiu Menshir’s freedom than I am. You’re Chevenga’s healer.”

Mamin, I will keep taking medicines.

Dear Piatsri, wherever you are...

I know. I know where you are and I don’t want to think about it.

We crossed the border of Arko. We’re coming, Piat, so I’ll keep these letters for you to read all at once.

Piat, you won’t believe this but the entire Roskati country wants to get into my affianced’s loincloth! At least long enough to extract a child out of it.

I didn’t write about this before because they hadn’t chalked it yet, but now they have and the party came in yesterday. It’s with my permission of course. They’re going to start a demarchic line of their own, with voting and such and Chevenga is their best choice for fathering that line, apparently. I shit you not.

They’ve got a neutral priestess all lined up to be the mother of that line and she seems nice enough. I guess they figured that a priestess would be less likely to get my hackles up, and in a way they’re right. She’s a sweetheart and a little older... I wanted to be in on the discussion about what happens to Chevenga’s far-flung seed, after all, and we talked about how that child would be raised.

Van—Vaneesh, that is her name, the high priestess of Roskat—held my hand through most of this talk and we got things straight. But all through, Chevenga was very nervous. He was nervous asking me in the first place. I think he was worried I’d get upset, as I did about Kallijas. But this is different. It wasn’t sprung on me, for one thing. I’m not sure why he doesn’t understand that.

Anyway, in the middle of the discussion, Baska comes with Vriah, who needs me, and I’m getting up to take her at the door when I peek over my shoulder and catch Mirko—the newly-elected war-leader of Roskat—ogling my bum.

He sees me look, looks away fast, I peek at Chevenga and—my oh-so-Yeoli, enlightened, why-ever-be-jealous Beloved has a look like he wants to tear Mirko’s anus up through his nose.

I shit you not. It was gone in a moment, but I knew I wasn’t seeing things. It was there.

So when we were getting ready for bed, I asked him. “Was I getting the wrong impression from Mirko, do you think? I could have sworn he was... um... appreciating me.”

He gets this look on his face I can’t quite read, but he says, “Oh yes, he was. Well, how could he not?”

I kiss him. “Thank you for the compliment, omores.”

“It is but the truth,” he says, wrapping his arms around me so his hands happen to fall where Mirko was looking. I love that feeling, his hands so warm, cupping me there.

“It didn’t bother you, I hope,” I say. “It’s not like he’s going to ask whether I’m interested in him... he’s more worried about politics than sex.”

“Bother me?” he says, blinking innocently. “Of course not, why would it bother me? You needn’t reassure me, love.” But those hands on me clench for just an instant.

“All right. I won’t reassure you...” I grin at him and wiggle a bit. “I thought I caught a glimpse of a flash of a fighting stare at him from you, but obviously I was wrong.”

“Fighting stare? Well...” He trips over his tongue. “I was thinking about sparring him, perhaps... he was treating me a bit like a boy... but... well, did it look like a fighting-stare?”

Mi omores I was thinking, you shouldn’t try lying to me when you’re so bad at it, and when your hands are on such a sensitive part of me... “Well... all right,” he says, sheepishly. “I was thinking about grinding his face in the dust sparring. I... the whole talk had me off my centre, so I was more of a boy. I’m not actually going to do it.”

“It’s all right, pehali. It’s an unusual situation. And they’re not going to ask for a child from me with Mirko!” I couldn’t help teasing him a little.

He got this look as if he’d eating an unripe manolo, but it didn’t last long. “Vaneesh is just as right when she says you throw beautiful children,” he says. “Hmm... his eyes against that honey-brown skin...” I tickle him with one thumb in his ribs from where my arms are around him and he jumps with a breathy “Aigh!” and slips a finger between my buttocks, reaching downwards.

“Not likely for anyone in the wing getting pregnant Eeep!” I pant for a moment, still smiling. “Everyone has their protections and there’s always the tea...”

“What, you want to see if Mirko and Vaneesh are up for a foursome? Maybe Fuun too? It’s only fair, rivals and all...”

“No. I think the bed would be a little crowded... unless you want?”

He does that laugh of his that breaks a little high like a child’s, and nuzzles in to nibble my ear. “We’d probably break the legs.”

I tip my head back and slide one of my hands down till the palm is over his nipple. “We would...” I make little circles with the flat of my hand.

He says, “I... gasp... am thinking... aigh! ...what right... ohhh... do I have... ahhh... to be jealous... All-Spirit... considering... Saint Mother aigh! ...everything...”

“Meh ish manwiah, mi omores. No need to fear or be jealous of anyone.”

He says—Piat, we have this thing we say to each other, this little ritual, that’s private. It’s sacred between us. He says the other half of it. “You know,” he adds, and drops his voice, his mouth close to my ear. “I think part of you likes that I fight-stared him.”

“Oh... oh, yes... part of me really did like that...”

He tightens his arms around me. “Lay your eyes on my woman and I’ll rip your guts out, poltroon Roskati,” he whisper-growls. I gasp. It’s nice sometimes when he gets all ancient male and grabby like that... I love it. He gets wilder when he’s in that kind of mood.

“Oh... oh Chevenga... rrrrr!” I bite his neck lightly, growling a little.

His arms tighten more and he lifts me off my feet. “All you other males back off or I’ll chew your hairy balls off, this one’s mine.”

I laugh... “Mine, too! Mine mine mine!” I bring my other hand around to lie flat on his chest, mirroring what the first hand is doing. “You females hiss and snarl and go away... or I’ll tear you up with my claws...”

He was no good for words from then on. You can gather what happened after that.