177 - One way down this path

It would be much harder with a man, I knew the moment I saw him, though there was nothing frightening about him. He was older than me, in his late twenties, I guessed, his dark hair in a warrior-cut, his light brown eyes like cabochon-cut ambers. He was angular and yet sweet of face, both at once, with feathery dark brows. Alchaen is picking beauties, too, I thought. It wouldn’t hurt. The Haian tripped over the name, Lakrisi Shae-Tiringa, so he gave it to me himself. “Hello, semanakraseye.” His smile showed a missing tooth, making me wonder how he lost it.

“Call me Chevenga, please,” I said. “We’re going to get... intimate enough.”

“Chevenga. Of course.” Take your time, Alchaen had told me again, and him too, no doubt. And don’t try to go beyond what is safe. If it takes more than once, so be it. Best you come to know him, some. My courage suddenly deserted me, parching my throat. I wanted to be anywhere but here. “Lakrisi... shall we... walk?”

“That sounds good.” He held out his hand, and I took it, hoping mine didn’t feel too icy. Same as Rona, he wore only the lightest sleeveless shirt, as a Yeoli must on Haiu Menshir, or roast. His arms were beautifully ridged with muscle, his hips graceful and narrow. Do I want to touch him? The idea of making love with both of them at once flashed—they must know each other—and then was gone. Two urges warred in me.

He lifted my hand, and pressed it between his, then chafed it as if I’d just come inside on a Yeoli winter day. Winter... I’ve forgotten. What does it feel like? In Arko it only gets slightly less scorching. “You haven’t stolen the honey out of the jar, Chevenga, and I’m not going to yell at you.”

I let out a brittle laugh, all nerves. “Y... yell at me? I...” I took a deep breath. “I know, everyone has always told me... whatever I feel shows. I’ll be able to face... Arkans, with a fearless face… only by not being afraid.”

“Chevenga... is there a place on this beach where we can start a nice fire without drawing anyone else to the flames? Sit and talk? Maybe roast some tubers or a fish or two in the coals?”

That sounded pleasant enough to seem impossible, like a dream. “Yes. This part of the beach is marked off... just for the House.” My kin, my guard and I usually ate out of a communal pot, but I could probably scare up something fresh from someone. “I know where there is wood.”

We built the fire just out from the edge of the trees. The wind off the sea, strong and steady, helped it light, better than bellows. Was I imagining it, or did he keep placing himself where I would see down through the crack in his shirt to the thatch of hair on his well-sculpted chest? When he took the shirt off, as if he’d just become hot after fetching a few sticks, I knew for sure. I was already bare-chested, having decided before he arrived to give myself one less step to be afraid of.

“I always liked looking into the flames,” he said.

“I, too. Are you from Asinanai, same as Ronatora-e?” I was seized with the sudden idea he hadn’t known about her and me and might be jealous, and told myself not to be silly. People sharing a ship share most everything else. She’s probably told him exactly how it went with me, down to the stroke, I thought.

“Yes. Rona and I... we’ve gotten to know each other a lot better since we ended up on one ship. My ship—Shininao’s Kiss—was too badly damaged in an engagement so while it’s in dry-dock—there’s an illicit shipyard near Erealanai…” Illicit, meaning not allowed by Arko, I thought. My people, don’t take this in. “I and some others were transferred onto Rona’s ship, the Winged Victory. So she and I didn’t know each other till the past year.”

So were you and she... I swallowed the question. None of my business! Fear always creates absurdities in the mind. “I’ve been thinking of getting closer to her, she seems nice. And her volunteering impressed me.”

“She’s...” I felt a smile grow on my face in spite of everything. “Very nice.” Now we were two man-friends sharing knowledge of a woman. Obviously he was inclined both ways, too.

He sighed. “Still, I’m babbling, aren’t I? I’m not used to talking to politicians.”

“No, you’re not babbling... I can hardly call anyone down for... how they speak, right now, anyway. And...” I touched the green ribbon. “I hardly qualify as a politician right... now.” He gently laid a finger next to mine on the ribbon. There was sweetness in his touch, too.

“I’m glad they’re helping you.” With one delicate finger he stroked the back of my wrist where it joined my hand.

“Lakrisi...” Panic seemed to distance him, as if through glass. “I should tell you... I know... you want me, I know you do. I don’t know that I can.” As if Alchaen didn’t warn him of that, I thought, feeling like a fool.

“It’s all right, Chevenga. If you like, we can just sit here. I keep wanting to cuddle you like my little brother. Just cuddle. Can you take that?”

“Did you lose him? I never asked... who you lost. And it’s rude now... with Yeolis... since we’ve all lost. I’m sorry.” I willed myself not to pull away from his touch.

“He’s fighting now on a little ship called Shark Tooth.” His hand stayed on my wrist, gentle and warm. “We’ve all lost. It’s all right, they’re in All-Spirit now.”

“Yes.” I wanted to bury myself in him as I’d buried myself in Rona. I wanted to feel the wind in my hair, fleeing down the beach. “Cuddle... that worked with her. Let’s try it.”

He put his arms around me, as if I would break if he was a hair too rough. Everyone handles me like that, I thought. I shouldn’t get too used to it; the Arkans won’t. His neck smelled sweetly of man’s musk, and I found my hands wanting to run over his skin, exploring the hillocks and valleys of muscle underneath. I clung, my guts gone to water.

“Whatever you need to do... you’re free, Chevenga.”

“Not all of me knows that.” Am I vying for the championship of Saying Stupid Things? Of course not all of me knows that or I wouldn’t be here.

“Yes. You know... I’ll bet the Haians have a fancy term for someone who likes to be on the bottom. The men I’ve shared campfires with who have preference that way seemed evenly split... Seems to me you need to feel in control of things.” I heard a smile in his voice.

I jolted in startlement, clenching my arms. Wait wait wait hold on hold on slow down... “I... I don’t know that fancy term... I always... I mean I never... I mean, not usually... I mean... aiigh.” Perhaps he did not know it, but the Yeoli custom, with a semanakraseye, is semana kra. I had always found myself inclined that way, when it came up. But now... All-Spirit... I have to test myself with that. I have to. Once I am back with the army, it will be required. The gale of terror in me rose.

“Just my advice, Chevenga.” And his inclination is to control. It came clear to me now, and I felt it in every shift of his body. No wonder his touch felt so good. Had Alchaen not discerned that? Or had he decided it was what I truly needed? Or... was I imagining it? It suddenly occurred to me that none of my instincts for these things might be intact and telling me true.

“When you feel ready... whether today or tomorrow... when you choose to try... I’m here.” As always, you choose. His voice was sonorous through him, as I leaned my temple into his collarbone.

“I... we have to try, today,” I said. “Every day I am still here is another day of fighting season, gone.”

“Well... then... how would you approach this? Tactically?”

“Tactically? This? Kyash on it, Lakrisi... I’ve never had to plan these things out before, like a battle. I’m fikked in the head, remember?” Terror poked up a tendril; by will I beat it down.

“Hmm. Well, if it were me... I’d say you have to seize the wind.. a landsman would have to seize the ground, right?” I heard the grin in his voice again.

“Lakrisi...” I took a deep breath. “Try seizing me. Gently.”

I unset my teeth, not having noticed myself setting them. I can take this. His hug very gradually tightened, firm and smooth. So far, so good... but I had to unset my teeth again. How I had taken for granted, before I was tortured, the ability to just do everything unthinking, without being on constant watch over every muscle, in case it did something I did not will.

Lakrisi cautiously lifted one arm from around me, and closed his hand around my wrist. I tumbled into a fall I had not known I could fall, from an edge I had not known was there, flung from Haiu Menshir back into Arko.

I was vaguely aware of him whipping away his hand as if my skin were red hot, but that didn’t stop it. My wrists bore the imprint of steely Mahid fingers a hundred times over, and from that I knew with absolute certainty that next I would feel the cold of the wrist-cuffs, and my own footsteps taking me somewhere against my will, or the slaver’s stick being rammed into me, or the leathern shackles of the flogging-frame and the fire of the ten-beaded whip across my back. There is one way down this path, and only one. The darkness like smoke billowed up in my soul, and the flames that were screams, or screams that were flames, started up again, in a sickening rhythm.

I heard his voice, distantly. “Chevenga! Chevenga! Oh, kyash, no... It’s all right... I’m sorry... Chevenga!” As if I were out of myself, I saw him lay me across his lap and cradle me in his arms. “Chevenga... you’re free, you’re free! Breathe deep, Chevenga. You’re on Haiu Menshir. Semanakraseye!”

Semana kra. Listen. Cling to his voice. I did, seizing a thread of sanity with it. Breathe deep... I was panting like a dog. “Chevenga, you can move, you can breathe... I’d fight for you if I could... I didn’t mean to hurt you! Chevenga, please hear me! I know you can.” He kissed my brow like a father his child’s.

I hear you. I just can’t say it. I know you didn’t mean to hurt me. It was usually Alchaen who talked me down—not that this had happened for better than two months—but Lakrisi was saying the same sort of words, either because he knew to, or Alchaen had taught him.

“Chevenga, I’ve got you safe. You’re in my arms, a Yeoli’s arms. You’ll be all right... Breathe deep, relax, you’re safe.” He went on, and calm came slowly, the darkness seeping away. I closed my eyes and then the tears of shame came, for having done this before one of my people. Distantly, something snapped in the fire.

“I want to take those kyash-eaters apart for doing this to you, Chevenga,” he whispered, stroking tears from my eyes. “It’s all right.”

I’m sorry. I dared myself to try my tongue. “I’m... s... sorry... La... kris... si. I’m... sorry.”

“You’re sorry! No! It’s nothing for you to be sorry about!” He stroked my hair, with tender anger. “You’re my semanakraseye and they’ve hurt you so badly I want to slaughter every one of them... sorry.” I closed my eyes, his rage somehow exhausting me worse. “Sorry. I shouldn’t tell you things like that now, Alchaen says it might be too much… sorry.”

“It’s... all... right.” I kept my eyes closed, willing calm.

“You don’t need to care for me... I’ve got you... and we can just sit and have... hey.” His voice lost alarm and gained a bit of a grin again. “I sneaked this in, in case you needed it.” I opened my eyes. He had a little clear-glass bottle full of yellow-green liquid, bearing the sigil of the Benai Saekrberk, a wax seal in the shape of a bear on the neck. “I didn’t bring it out before in case of booze-limpness. But you need it.”

The last time drink had passed my lips had been the night of my fiftieth fight, more than five moons ago, now. What would it do to me? I didn’t care. I grabbed his hand with the bottle in it, yanked it to my lips almost before he’d pulled the cork out, and took a long swig. Solace in the guise of fire flowed down my throat.

“Easy... don’t hurt yourself with it, Chevenga, easy.”

“This... is... not... pain.” I took another, just as long. “Trust me.”

“All right. Whatever works...”

“If you... think this is pain...” Warmth rose tingling behind my cheeks, and my heart suddenly fell into blessed peace. “You don’t know... what pain is.”

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