Student of Kyme (11 page)

Malakess
looked up from his toast and smiled at me. ‘I would like you
to.’

‘
Yes, then. Yes, I’d like it too.’

He
adopted a serious expression. ‘How do you feel now,
Gesaril?’

I grinned
at him. ‘I feel like a dehar, or that I’ve been possessed by a
dehar.’

Malakess
shook his head. ‘I’m sure you over-rate my skills.’ In those words
hung the ghost of Ysobi again, the skilled Hienama of arunic arts.
I didn’t think Malakess had intended it, but that’s what I
heard.

‘
It depends what you mean by skill,’ I said. ‘I think
compassion is worth more than skill.’

Malakess
stared at the table for some moments. Then he drew a breath. ‘I
have to ask you something. Please speak honestly. Do you regard
last night as a one off occasion?’

I stared
at him, even though he wouldn’t meet my eyes. ‘That depends
entirely on how you feel about it.’

He
laughed, rather nervously, and then looked at me. ‘I feel good
about it. I don’t know where this will lead us, Gesaril. I think we
should just see what happens, but I want you to know that I’d like
us to remain close. I think… we go well together.’ He groaned and
shook his head. ‘Seductive talk is not one of my
virtues.’

‘
I understand you perfectly,’ I said. ‘I think we want the
same thing.’

‘
But I’m so much older than you…’

‘
Aruna does not recognise age,’ I said. ‘When we were
together, it didn’t matter. I didn’t even think about it. You were
just a beautiful har, that’s all. I felt comfortable with you, in
every sense, and that’s rare for me. I’m not about to let that
go.’

He
nodded. ‘These things, new bonds, are fragile. We need to take
care.’

No second
generation har would ever say such a thing, but then we were all
young in comparison to hara like Malakess.

I knew
already that Malakess was not the kind of har who would appreciate
overt gestures of intimacy in public places, nor would he be
spontaneous to offer affection. To him, aruna was a private matter,
and intimate bonds between hara should not be part of a display. I
liked the thought of that. We would be like a secret, but not a
shameful one, such as that I’d shared with Ysobi.

Now I
have to go and meet Sabarah. What new wonders will tonight bring? I
can’t believe how much my life has changed, how different I feel. I
have to write something every day. I don’t want to forget any of
this.

Miyacalasday, Ardourmoon 24

Sabarah
sensed at once something different about me and must have guessed
another har was the cause. He didn’t question me about it, but was
pleased I radiated a different kind of energy today, that he would
attempt to capture in his sketches. I floated through the day,
waiting only for the night. Even the meal with the Gelaming seemed
just like a delaying nuisance. I wanted to be close to Malakess
again.

The only
hara present at the meal was a delegation of five Nagini, Chrysm
Luel, Malakess and myself. Chrysm behaved himself quite well in
front of the Nagini, and didn’t appear to offend them. He spoke
earnestly of how the greatest tribes should co-operate in order to
help the weaker tribes who needed support. ‘I know how Gelaming
appear to others,’ he said, (as if he’d been coached by Sabarah, to
be honest), ‘and that the Hegemony is renowned for its arrogance,
but like you the Gelaming have only the welfare of Wraeththu at
heart, and the welfare of the world itself.’

It was a
credit to Chrysm that he sounded sincere while saying
that.

Haruah
and his companions listened patiently to everything the Hegemon
said. It wasn’t possible to gauge their reaction, because they kept
it hidden, but I had no doubt some private dialogue took place
between them in mind touch.

‘
I think perhaps we could talk about trade,’ Haruah said
carefully. ‘There we might find mutual benefit.’ Clearly, the
Nagini were going to proceed cautiously and see if the Gelaming
could prove themselves.

‘
Of course,’ Chrysm said smoothly, ‘although that’s not my
realm of expertise. You should speak with the Hegemony Chancellor,
Tharmifex Calvel, and of course the Tigrons and Tigrina. It would
give me great pleasure to be able to arrange a meeting.’

Haruah
nodded. ‘Allow us time to discuss the matter in private,’ he said.
‘But, seeing as we’re already in your part of the world, it would
make sense to visit Almagabra once our visit here is
concluded.’

I don’t
know how Chrysm prevented himself from leaping from his seat with a
victorious, air-thumping shout, but he merely inclined his head.
‘It would appear to make sense, yes. I’ll be around here for a
while longer too. If you would like to discuss anything with me,
I’m at your disposal.’

I
sincerely hoped that Malakess would get all he wanted from the
Gelaming after this.

Once the
formal business was concluded, the conversation became more casual
and I was able to speak to Haruah in relative privacy. ‘I see
Nagarana has worked on your behalf already,’ Haruah said, grinning
widely.

‘
He has indeed,’ I replied. ‘Thank you, tiahaar.’

‘
Learn from the past,’ the Nagini said, his expression
suddenly intense. My skin prickled.

‘
I will, tiahaar.’

‘
I mean it, Gesaril. Do not repeat mistakes, and do not
mistake events, and do not drape the present in the robes of lost
days.’

He spoke
so fiercely, it was like a warning, as if he could see something in
my future. ‘Tiahaar?’ I asked cautiously, hoping he would offer
more.

Haruah
shook his head, then smiled again. ‘No, the world is light for you
now. Enjoy it.’

That
night, I again took Malakess to my bed, and felt that I exorcised
forever the malevolent ghost of Ysobi. New experiences were
imprinted over my bad or painful memories. I saw a different side
of Malakess, when he became utterly soume for me. He was almost
coquettish, certainly playful, so that I actually felt older than
him. A new me was emerging too. I could look back on the past and
see myself as something like a larva; I was the dragon fly now with
spreading iridescent wings. I dined with Hegemons and phylarchs
from powerful tribes. I held my own in conversation and was
respected.

As much
as I try not to think it, I wish that Ysobi knew about this. I want
him to see me now, what I’ve become, so that I can turn my back on
him; supposing I could do that.

Pelfazzarsday, Ardourmoon 28

As if the
universe has heard me, this morning I have received some contact
from Jesith in the form of a letter from, of all hara, Jassenah. It
was a long, friendly letter, which surprised me, full of anecdotes
about hara I’d known in the town. He thanked me warmly for the gift
I’d sent. I noticed though that he didn’t mention Ysobi. He must
have talked about everyhar in Jesith but for Ysobi, in fact. I was
tempted to write back at first, but then remembered Haruah’s words
and stopped myself doing it. I mustn’t open that door to the past.
If a correspondence develops between Jassenah and myself, it could
not be good for me. It’s a connection, however tenuous, with Ysobi.
If I can’t let Jassenah go, I can’t let Ysobi go. So there it is: I
must remain silent and not respond.

But
thinking about letters has made me realise I’ve not contacted my
parents for some time. Neither have they contacted me, of course.
Perhaps they’ve forgotten about me, lost in their dreamy realms. To
remind them I exist, I’m going to write a long letter to them now,
telling them about the Nagini and the Hegemon and my life in
Kyme.

There…
it’s done. As I was writing it, I considered how harlings are
supposed to be close to their parents, but I’ve never been close to
mine. They’re not cruel, or even negligent, but I’m not like them
and have never been able to share their fairyland world. We don’t
connect. I suppose they’ve been cruel and negligent without
intending to be. They never recognised my pain, and certainly never
helped me deal with it. Perhaps that’s what I should have been
writing to them about.

Miyacalasday, Fruitingmoon 14

Chrysm
only stayed in Huriel’s house for two days, but he certainly
livened the place up for that short time. Now that he’d got the
Nagini under his belt, as it were, and a visit to Immanion had been
scheduled – complete with sedu transport, which must surely impress
even the unimpressionable Nagini – he didn’t want to hang around
too long. The Nagini made a big gesture to the Sulh too, in that
they would leave four of their second generation hara in Kyme to
study at the Academy. These young hara are cloistered away in the
Academy towers, and from what little Malakess has told me about the
arrangement, it appears that chaperones have been left with the
students and that they will not be mixing too freely with the rest
of us. I’ve been so enraptured by my relationship with Malakess
that I haven’t give these students much thought. Although Malakess
likes to be fairly private about our union, he did relax enough to
put his arm around me in the evenings, when we sat and talked with
the Hegemon in Huriel’s sitting room. Chrysm was an entertaining
har, and even Huriel warmed to him slightly, I think, much to his
own disgust. Chrysm definitely realised that it would be
inappropriate to flirt with me, because he never spoke to me in
such a way again. Malakess stayed at the house every night
too.

One time,
as we lay in bed, wrapped in each other’s arms, I said, ‘We could
stay at your house too, Kess. You don’t have to come here every
time.’

‘
It’s far more comfortable here,’ he replied.

‘
Then maybe you should think about making your own house more
comfortable.’ In those words, I knew, was the subtle implication
that if our relationship continued, we would become chesna, and
would live together.

‘
There’s plenty of time,’ Malakess said. ‘I’ve never really
cared about houses.’

I didn’t
feel I could pursue the subject. Perhaps Malakess is being
cautious, waiting to see whether it’s possible for us to become
chesna. The relationship is still so new. We still don’t really
know one another, because we haven’t shared our histories. As for
me, who vowed never to fall in love again, I don’t feel the same
hot passion for Malakess that I once felt for Ysobi, even though
physically we are in tune. For Malakess, aruna is a ritual, an act
of reverence. He treats my body as if it were some fragile sacred
artefact, almost worships it, but once out of the bedroom, he
becomes reserved and somewhat inhibited. I understand the
boundaries of our relationship, and it’s fine by me. I feel secure
and the idea of being the consort of a high ranking har is not
without its appeal. If I’m going to do something with my life, why
not go for the best here in Kyme?

The
Gelaming went home, taking the majority of the Nagini with them. It
seems the future looks hopeful for relations between the tribes. We
all went back to work, but I spent more time with Malakess,
learning about the administration of the library and its projects.
He took me to see it, the vast underground labyrinth that was a
repository of vast human knowledge and would become, so he hoped,
equally full of Wraeththu knowledge. The library had a printing
press, which although primitive by later human standards, could
produce books. Malakess wanted to encourage hara to write,
particularly about the past, the early days of our kind. We talked
about this as we roamed around the maze of book stacks. ‘Will you
write a book?’ I asked him.

He pulled
a sour face. ‘I don’t get the time.’

‘
But you have a history.’

‘
Yes, who doesn’t?’

‘
I would like to know about it.’

He
laughed. ‘Oh, you yearn to unearth the reeking corpses of my
past!’

‘
You have reeking corpses in it, then?’

He put an
arm about me, drew me onward. ‘Not particularly. I’m fairly boring
by Wraeththu standards.’

‘
I don’t believe that! Tell me about what it was like in the
early days.’

He
grimaced. ‘All right, a little. We used to discourage visits from
hara outside Alba Sulh. We wanted to be mysterious and
self-contained. It was a fantasy we had. It didn’t last long in the
face of reality.’

‘
You mean in the face of the Gelaming.’

‘
Mostly. I was incepted fairly late, really. Hara had already
begun to produce harlings, and the main communities had been
established. I wasn’t there at the beginning. The hara who were are
the ones who should be writing books.’

‘
You were human once,’ I said. ‘That’s strange to me. I’d like
to know about it.’

‘
I can’t remember much about it,’ he said. ‘I was incepted
young.’

Even I
knew that inceptions had rarely taken place before a human child
was in their teens. How could he forget all those years of
memories? I didn’t believe him. Still, if he didn’t want to talk
about it, that was that. I could perhaps claw out further
disclosures as time went on.