Grey Eagle - Chapter 18

Chapter Eighteen

They came in one evening for the lesson and Arion quickly sensed something in the air. Reegat was tense, his concentration high. Arion realized with a start of fear that the nothing had suddenly become a something, and Reegat considered him a threat. Without question, he intended to hurt him, enough so that he was unsure how he would react.

At first he thought they meant to kill him now, and he worked hard to protect himself, with surprisingly good success. Reegat seemed to have something specific in mind, and was unable to achieve it.

Then, for the first time since refastening the leash, Raach stepped in, removing the brotik and handing it to Reegat. "Can you keep away from me?" he asked, almost smiling.

Arion's skin prickled. "No, I guess not."

"Try." Raach attacked then, slowly and without real intent. Arion moved, keeping his distance, knowing Raach would have him when he chose. He grabbed, and Arion eluded, barely.

Raach smiled, pleased rather than annoyed. "Good. Very good." He pursued him then, testing, gradually pressing harder until at last he had him. Arion struggled briefly, but Raach rolled him over onto his belly, pinning his neck and back with his knees, freeing his hands to twist Arion's arm behind his back.

"Watch." He twisted the arm again and Arion tensed, wondering how far he meant to go. "Your arm will break quite easily like this, won't it?"

"Yes."

"Can you think of anything you could do to stop me?"

"...No."

"Nothing?"

Raach had, in fact, taught Reegat a move that would counter this rather effectively, but it involved damaging both himself and Raach. "...It's not worth it."

"You would rather go through lessons with a broken arm?" he asked as if surprised.

Arion hesitated, angry and frightened. He couldn't tell if Raach was testing him or trying to draw him out. "What do you want me to do?"

Raach released him without answering and motioned for Reegat to come try again. Arion struggled to evade him, but under Raach's instruction, Reegat finally got him pinned. He too took the arm, as Raach had done, twisting it until he grunted, the pain obvious. "What will you do?" asked Reegat.

Arion didn't answer, for he didn't know. If Reegat twisted far enough, the muscle would tear and his elbow would break. He closed his eyes, surrendering.

"Nothing? Are you sure?" He pressed down as he twisted and Arion cried out as the muscle began to tear -

"Ramos!" barked Raach, and Reegat released him. Arion curled in a ball, cradling his arm, eyes closed, waiting... When he opened them again, Raach was standing over him. He sat up, still cradling his arm.

"Get up." He rose, noticing now that Reegat had gone. Raach took hold of his arm, brushing Arion's protective hand away, but his touch was remarkably gentle. "Why did you let him hurt you?" he asked softly as he examined the arm.

Arion looked at him, but he was serious. "I promised."

"So?"

He frowned, his thoughts swimming. "...Sometimes it's hard, understanding what you want. I can't make mistakes."

He nodded. "I want him to survive. I have noticed that he is learning to leave himself vulnerable. I think you may even be doing it on purpose." He looked at Arion intently, not angry.

He smiled slightly, surprising himself, not able to hide it in time. It made sense now, and he was suddenly pleased with what he had considered a feeble gesture to his old occupation. "I don't know how to give up?" he offered.

Raach smiled slightly in return. "Truth. But I will have what I want."

Arion nodded, his smile gone, wondering why he had been so pleased a moment ago. At least Raach was talking to him.

Raach paused, gazing at him. There was something more... "Your arm is not broken," he said, turning to leave. "Try soaking it."

Arion drew a hot bath and slipped in, feeling the heat wrap around him, drawing on the ache of his arm, draining the tension from his muscles... He felt sleepy, and oddly encouraged despite the injury. He was also annoyed with himself, that he should be so gratified to have Raach speaking to him again, but he was horribly lonely, and anyone, even Raach, was better than no one.

The following evening, the lesson began predictably. Reegat was enjoying himself, harassing the injured arm, and Arion was doing the best he could to protect it. "Attack him," said Raach, surprising them both for he had used Homonic. "You heard me," he continued. "Attack him. He can not learn to defend himself if he does not have to. He can not fight if he is dead."

Arion nodded and reluctantly turned to face him. Tentatively he drew him in, then lightly bopped him. Reegat jumped back, mildly started. He glanced at Raach, who was passive, and smiled then, understanding now what had been said. They sparred then, each testing the other, for Reegat wasn't sure how far Arion would go, and Arion was intent not to catch him with his guard down again.

"Push him until he loses."

Arion gritted his teeth, but nodded. His arm aching, and still frightened of possible repercussions, he knew too that Reegat's training was beginning in earnest, and he was powerless to prevent it. He worked slowly, baiting him with his arm, waiting for the opening that would let him pin Reegat without hurting him.

Accepting the situation then, he took supreme pleasure in watching Reegat's confidence melt away, bopping only lightly when he opened up, yet reminding him of what he could do if he were allowed. And when at last he had him pinned, his muscles trembled as he imagined the pleasure it would be to squeeze the life out of him.

Reegat recognized it, and Arion whispered to him, "If I want to die, all I have to do is kill you. But don't worry. I'll have to make it very quick." Reegat's ears flattened and he squirmed.

"Let him up." Arion obeyed, satisfied. Raach removed the brotik as before and handed it to Reegat. "Do that to me now."

Arion sighed, rubbing his arm. He simply wasn't up to this. "Right," he answered, softly sarcastic, and tried... By the end of the lesson his arm was screaming. He took a hot bath again, but it didn't seem to help. He gave up finally, and came out to go to bed.

Raach was there, sitting at his table. He had brought another chair, a pot, and two cups. "Come. Sit." Arion obeyed and Raach set a cup in front of him. "How do you feel?"

He laughed slightly, uncomfortable, uncertain how to act. He sipped carefully, then smiled. The not-coffee-but-good drink. Hot and thin, it felt good, tasted good. "Thanks," he said, raising the cup. "What is it called?"

"Your welcome. We call it marl. I believe your people call it pava?"

"We have it too?"

"Yes, widely. The plant originated on one of your planets. You have never had it before?"

"Not before here, no. From a plant, but you can drink it?"

He smiled slightly and nodded. "The drink is made from crushed beans, similar to your coffee and cocoa, but it contains no stimulant. It has little to offer nutritionally, but it is pleasing."

"And we call it pava, huh? I'll have to remember that."

Raach smiled, amused, but didn't pursue it. "You seem to enjoy lessons more when you can fight back."

"Enjoy isn't the word to say it."

"Yes it is. You enjoyed showing Reegat you could beat him."

Arion smiled at that and looked down. "Truth."

"You enjoyed sparring with me as well. You cannot beat me, but you enjoy fighting me."

He started to disagree, but fell silent. It was true in an odd sort of way. Enjoy still didn't seem the right word for it, but they were speaking his language, so maybe it was. He nodded then. "It was too much, but yes. I learn from you."

"Yes," he answered, quietly pleased. "You learn quickly."

Arion laughed once, softly. Reegat had learned a great deal, and Arion found that he too was learning almost as much.

Since the efficient unity of the venators generally disintegrated into every venat for itself when a carrier was grounded, the Gadamista had never emphasized unarmed combat, relying almost exclusively on flight power and teamwork. Single combat was taught only briefly, and only in cadet training. Raach, however, was a highly skilled fighter and clearly intended for his son to be equally proficient.

"Necessity," Arion answered. He hesitated then, unsure of proper etiquette.

"Speak."

"I keep wondering. You fight very well. At home, I don't see it."

Raach nodded. "You are a pilot. You see the disorganized rabble after the fight has already been lost. Truth?"

He nodded, surprised by his candor. "Truth."

"The people you protect also fight back. Skill is necessary to shorten our attack. So that the fight is not lost," he added with a vague smile. "Also, if Reegat is trapped in such rabble as you see, I want him to be capable of escape. How is your arm?"

"Wants to fall off. I wish it would."

Raach nodded. "I am giving you some time off to let it heal. Is there anything you would like that you do not have?"

He laughed. "Yes. A laser."

Raach smiled and shook his head. "You may not have a laser. Something else."

He laughed again, but softly, suspicious. "Why?"

"You have been doing as you are told. You are being rewarded. It is that simple."

He nodded, stifling a yawn. "Actually... I would like the mythra again."

"You will have it. Anything else?"

"A haircut?"

"You may have that also."

"Nice and short?" he added grimly.

Raach chuckled. "You have learned something else?"

"Yeah," he agreed, nodding. "Didn't matter before, flying around in the Starphire. But Tomlik and his people... They wear theirs very short. I understand now."

He nodded and refilled the cups.

Grasping the advantage, Arion asked, "Can I have Kim back?"

Yellow eyes glittered, unblinking... "No." He looked down then, thinking. "Tell me. You spoke to Sharsa a great deal about your spirit, but you haven't mentioned it here. Why?"

"Sharsa liked to talk. You like to beat me up. If you'd rather talk, I'm willing."

"In the beginning, your people spoke to us about your god and your spirits. I have little or no interest in your god, but your spirit interests me very much."

"To me they're inseparable."

Raach was silent, his ears slightly back, sipping his marl. "You are Cedrychad," he said slowly. "Do you believe this gives you a strong spirit?"

Arion hesitated, his spine tingling as he recalled what Sharsa had said... "No. A Cedrychad is bound by an oath, but it has nothing to do with spirit. It's just another job. More prestige, but it's just a job. Spirits aren't greater or stronger, they just are."

"Your spirit is strong."

He laughed, pained and scornful. "What makes you say that?"

"Sharsa knows damats. I know humans. Your spirit is strong."

He shrugged, disagreeing. "You're the boss around here."

"Why did you become a Cedrychad?"

He sighed, uncomfortable. He knew the reasons more fully now than ever before, but he didn't like them. "Two reasons, really. For one thing, everyone respects a Cedrychad. Wherever you go, it's like they already know you. Instant family." He laughed sadly. "Wherever you go..." he repeated, suddenly deeply depressed.

"What is the other reason?"

He stared into the half empty cup. "I didn't like feeling helpless," he said softly. "I couldn't stand hiding, sitting there, feeling trapped. In the Starphire, it was small, but it was part of me, and I was out in the open... And I wasn't helpless. What did you put in the marl?"

"Just an analgesic for your arm. Nothing to worry about." He refilled the cups, keeping it hot.

"But I do worry," he said, staring at the marl. It was so good... "I don't understand you, Raach. Why would you care? Why bother? You're such a turpa, such a pyon. And you make sure I know it. Then you turn around and do something nice. Only it won't be."

"Why not?"

"Because you're a turpa."

"Patka. Venatese."

"Patka," he repeated dutifully. "What does it mean?"

"One who respects that which is shameful."

"That works," he allowed, staring into the cup again. "Will it make me sick too?"

"No. If I want to hurt you, you'll know it. Your Venatese is much better than I expected."

"I guess a lot. Fill in blanks. Like that."

Raach shook his head, smiling. "It is better than that. You make many mistakes, but you do well. Where did you learn?"

"On the Arlemagen. And here."

"Why did you bother?"

"Helps on scouting missions. If I can pick up your transmissions, it helps to know what you're talking about. I was improving a lot faster before you quit talking to me."

"Yes," he agreed, smiling again, almost laughing. "You have improved a great deal in the last five minutes alone."

Arion looked at him, sullen, realizing that his mounting sleepiness was more than fatigue. "See? Patka." He sighed and drank. It was too late now anyway.

"Do all Cedrychads speak Venatese?"

"No. Some do. Most don't. I learned a lot from Reegat. He always makes fun of me when I make mistakes. Least, he used to." He frowned, lightheaded and tired, wondering if it mattered. "The arm feels a lot better. Thanks."

"You're welcome."

"Why?"

"Why not? I can't be kind? Just because I have no soul? Vampat. Your excuse for killing us. You who hold life up so high, but only for yourselves. Kirtika."

Arion looked at him. "What's that?"

"Kirtika? Hypocrite, eh? You apply your ideals when and where you please, making them worthless. Your spirit is strong, but I will destroy you."

Arion sighed heavily, laughed softly. "You see? Patka."

Raach chuckled and leaned back. "I have another question for you. You were going to kill yourself, but didn't. Why?"

"He wouldn't let me."

"Who?"

"The God that doesn't interest you."

"How would he stop you?"

Arion smiled, comforted as he remembered the touch. How to explain? "He told me not to."

"He spoke to you?" he asked skeptically.

"No. No, He.. Inside. He just wouldn't let me. He told my spirit no. He's what makes my spirit live. If I stop listening to Him, my spirit is nothing. He has a better idea."

"You chose to live," he said firmly, losing interest. "I own your body now. What would you hope for?"

He shrugged, not wanting to debate it. "Escape," he said, but it sounded foolish now. "You never know."

Raach's ears went back and he shook his head. "You can't escape. I should think you would know that by now. Even if you could, you have nowhere to go. The planet is ours. The Hammerstar is gone."

"He can if He wants to."

"No. Such an arrogant hope can do nothing for you now except get you into trouble. I have had humans escape before. They had nowhere to go and neither would you."

He put his head in his hands, palms against his eyes. "Can we stop now? Or talk about something else?"

"The analgesic has made you sleepy. Rest now." He picked up the pot and the cups, but left the chair behind. Arion rose, discovering with hazy surprise just how groggy he really was. He stumbled into bed, asleep.