Grey Eagle - Chapter 21

Chapter Twenty-One

It was a fourth-day morning and Arion sat by the doorway with the mythra, eyes closed, singing, flying with the music. His eyes opened and his voice died, his breath blowing out softly in a sigh of nervous anticipation. Gently, he laid the mythra on the floor and stood as Raach came in.

He walked slowly, channeling his anger as he came, and Arion found himself backing up. Stopping himself, he stood still, searching Raach's eyes, shocked and increasingly frightened by the depth of his wrath. Anger he had expected, but this...

Raach hit him, heavy-handed, knocking him down. He scrambled to his knees, then hesitated, but Raach stood still, waiting. Obedient, he rose. Raach waited, and he came. Again he knocked him down.

He looked up, but his eyes refused to clear, his legs... Raach drew him up and threw him, tumbling against the wall.

Again he waited. Still dazed, Arion struggled to stand, climbing the wall. "All privileges are now revoked," Raach said softly. Without further ado, he began collecting Arion's things, the mythra, the pocket pal, the white cloth sack.

When he had gone, Arion sank to the floor, shaken, but relieved. Raach had been so angry, so deeply furious... He stiffened as Raach returned with two male damats, adults, but they ignored him completely. Raach set them to work and left. They removed the bed, the table and chairs, his towel, razor and toothbrush. All privileges.

He sat quietly then, his fear and relief swirling gently downward within him, his thoughts leaving what could have been to consider what had actually occurred. After a bit he rose, wandering aimlessly about in the emptiness. It was not pleasant, that emptiness, but neither was this the marshmallow room. It lacked the suffocating closeness of the marshmallow room, Raach s armchair and workbench remained, and he could hear the muffled sounds of life in the rest of the house.

He went into the bathroom, to the mirror, and laughed softly. He was not without something to look at either. "Pretty, pretty," he said softly. On each side, from jawbone to brow ridge, pink and red abrasions heralded colorful bruises to come.

He sighed and came out, looking at the empty room, then sat against the wall. Aviel... I know You know what You're doing, but why did You let it happen? Why didn't You warn me somehow?

And what about them? If I'm doing any good, won't it frighten them too? It was what You wanted... The thought trailed off, answered by another. He resisted the idea, pointless and frightening...

Not so pointless? He laughed softly, nervous. I'm already in trouble, right? Might as well make it worthwhile... He sat quietly for a few moments, eyes closed, calming himself, then took a deep breath. He smiled as the proper song came to him. Yes.

As grass defeats the concrete,
And reaches - "

He fell silent, stepping back as Raach came in.

He shook his head, annoyed but calm. "I warn you, Cedrychad, for their sakes. Do not ruin their lives with ideas they cannot fulfill. I understand you and your need to fight me. And this is effective in its way because I do care about them very much, but it is beneath you to use them so callously. Leave them alone."

"All I'm trying to do is teach them that they have spirits, to be happy despite their lives. To care about each other. What's so horrible about that?"

"You are ignorant and meddlesome," he said, angry now. "The punishment for coming in here is severe. Do not force it from me. They cannot help you. Do not ask it of them."

Arion stared, stunned. "I wasn't. They haven't. ...I wasn't."

"Then you are more stupid than I thought. Who put you in charge of their spirits? They must live here even after you are dead. Ignorant and meddlesome! Leave them alone." He turned and left.

"...You forgot arrogant," he said softly, sinking to the floor, devastated. He drew up his knees and put his head down in his arms, weeping silently. I'm sorry... I'm sorry. I thought it was what you wanted. Why do I keep confusing pride with faith? Please, don't let him hurt anyone because of me...

Midday came and went, but his dinner never arrived. When supper passed him by as well, he wasn't overly surprised. One meal a day would be harder with the lessons, but it shouldn't last too long. He stood up, startled and nervous, when Raach came in with Reegat. "I thought there was no lesson tonight."

"What you think has no place here," Raach answered coldly. "You stir up more trouble than you know, Cedrychad. I am making a lesson of you. Reegat."

Arion faced Reegat, alarmed. For all of Raach's power, he was more afraid of Reegat's unchecked viciousness. It had disappeared, but if he was to be an example... Yet Reegat did not gloat, and Arion was surprised and relieved when he didn't try to hurt him.

The lesson went as any other, ending without incident. Raach laid his hand on Reegat's shoulder. "Birnat shas tirta. Benka las lamnataach." You are strong. You may be powerful. Reegat swelled, smiling, intensely pleased. And why not? It meant that Raach intended to give him title. What, Arion wondered, did that mean for him? But they ignored him and left.

Relieved yet again, he went into the bathroom. ...But there was no water. No shower. And nothing to drink. Morning suddenly seemed very far away, the purpose of the unscheduled lesson now clear.

...Schedule. Something had happened to that too, with Raach home. Had he lost track? Not that it mattered now. He came out into the room again and curled up against the wall. Tired, dirty, angry and thirsty, he went to sleep.

He woke the next morning before the lights, unable to sleep longer. He rose and moved about, stretching, then sat down to wait. The lights came on, a welcome milestone towards breakfast. Between his hunger, thirst, and boredom the wait was long, but he knew it would seem so, and he sang softly to himself to help pass the time.

Eventually, however, it became clear that breakfast simply wasn't coming. He struggled with the knowledge, refusing the fact even as he knew it, wondering how much of an example Raach meant to set.

The day was slow and hard, his thoughts trapped always between his discomfort and the unreasonable severity of Raach's ire. When evening came, Raach brought Reegat in again, and Arion looked at him, angry but powerless. "Are you trying to kill me, Raach, or just almost?"

He didn't answer. The lesson became long and grueling, for whenever Reegat rested, Raach took over, keeping Arion always moving. At length, he fell and stayed where he was. To be motionless...

"Get up," ordered Raach. Arion ignored him. "Reegat." Arion opened his eyes then, but Reegat was leaving the room.

He returned moments later with a boy who looked to be perhaps fourteen standard cycles. Reegat held him firmly and he looked at Arion with wide, human eyes. "Get up," repeated Raach.

Arion dragged himself to his knees. "He never came in here, Raach," he said softly. He looked directly at the boy. "I never meant for anyone to come in here."

"Venatese," said Raach. "He knows why he is here. Get up."

Arion rose and they continued. Raach became ever more gentle, pushing him only enough to keep him moving. Each time he fell, Reegat took the boy, holding his mouth and nose, stifling him until Arion was back on his feet. At first it seemed mere gesture, but as his exhaustion became extreme, they both grew desperate...

...He was shivering, and the house was dark. He crept towards his bed, but it wasn't there. Curling up against the wall, he tried to retreat back into sleep, but his mind cleared, refusing haven. He rose then, unsteady, and went into the bathroom. Still no water.

He came out and sat down against the wall by the curtain. The boy... He tried to think back, but he couldn't remember the end of the lesson, nor what had become of him. Oh Aviel, why can't I do anything right? I thought I was helping, and all I did was make things worse.

He had not yet moved when Raach came in later that morning. He sat down on the floor, cross-legged in front of Arion. "You must understand," Raach said quietly, "that what you are and what you think have no place here. This is my house. I make the rules. What you wear, what you eat, what you drink, whatever you enjoy, you have because I give it to you. Whether you live or die is my choice.

"You inflict great pain and confusion on them trying to teach them otherwise. If your god understands the lot of a damat, then he will understand them also. Let him judge their hearts then, and you leave their lives alone."

Arion looked up at him, suddenly remembering what he had felt so strongly before. "But Raa- " his voice caught, dry, and he grimaced. "You teach them not to care. That God doesn't care," he continued softly, almost whispering. He felt terrible, his tongue thick and unwieldy, but clearly it was over now, and he had to make Raach understand. He cared for them, so he had to understand. "What have they got to be judged on if they don't love?"

Raach was silent for a moment. "Once your people knew how to accept differences in others," he said quietly. "First you refused it to us; now you refuse it to your own. What do you know of how they love or care for one another? They have far more forgiveness in their hearts for each other than you have.

"Kirtika," he growled suddenly. "Why do I even try?" He rose angrily and stalked out.

"Raa- ! Wai -" he croaked, abruptly panicked, scrambling to follow. "I'm sor- Raach! Please..." But he had gone. He sank to the floor and put his head down in his arms. "I'm sorry," he whispered. The day passed slowly, sliding downward in deepening agony.

He woke the next morning conscious only of the pain. Sharp, ragged talons tore at his throat with every breath, and even closed, his eyes burned. His head ached with a steady, unmitigating pain.

He did notice the lights come on, shining pink against his eyelids. With a last desperate hope, he waited for deliverance. But no one came.

"Psst."

Arion started awake, banging his head against the wall, frightening himself still more, confused, his eyes unable to focus...

"Oh..." A sympathetic noise, soft in the darkness. "Ssh. I'm sorry. It's okay. Here..." Hands cradled his head, wet on his lips...

Understanding the water if nothing else, he drank eagerly, reaching up, grabbing hold as the glass began to leave. He whimpered, a dry rasp, as he felt some spill.

"Easy now, ssh. It's right here," the voice whispered. "Not so fast. You'll make yourself sick." ...Knees cradling him more fully, the glass again... Soon it was gone, and the knees slid away. "Rest now."

He woke, fighting against the pain that denied him oblivion. He opened his eyes, looking out on the empty room. He remembered the water, grieving. It was not the first dream. How could he have been so stupid, arguing with Raach like that? But he hadn't really thought he would let him die... Wrong again. Raach had given up on him.

Join the club.

...hands... no... a startling wetness at the eyes, soothing...

He woke slowly, vaguely aware of strange, helpful equipment, a bed, and a pillow. He opened his eyes and was sharply disappointed. He was still in his room. Somehow he had thought...

He looked at the equipment, which consisted merely of a simple IV and a monitor. A bottle sat on top of it, possibly eyedrops. He sighed, grudgingly noting that he felt quite comfortable. Weak, but comfortable. Unfortunately alive. He slept.

He opened his eyes to see Raach checking the monitor. He looked at him, finished what he was doing, and came over. "How do you feel?" Arion looked away, sullen, silent. "Are you comfortable?"

"Who cares?"

"I was going to let you die," he said, an admission without guilt, "but when I came back and you were still alive, I changed my mind."

"Why waste him."

"No. You should have been dead. It does not seem to be the will of the Infinite. I find that significant."

He rolled to his side, turning his back on Raach. "What - that He doesn't want me? That He doesn't care? That's what you've been saying all along." There was no answer, and he realized angrily that he had forgotten to use Venatese. He leaned back, looking over his shoulder, but Raach had gone.

His recovery was swift, and lessons resumed, but Arion remained bitterly melancholy. He fought poorly, uncaring, passing up opportunities, failing to block. Raach came to see him one evening, bringing with him the pot and two cups. Everything save the mythra had been returned. Glum but obedient, Arion came and sat down with him.

Raach watched him silently for several moments. "Is this what you think the other humans are like?"

"What I think has no place here."

He chuckled softly. "Touch ."

"Venatese."

"The broken spirit becomes a mimic, eh? Only your spirit isn't broken." Arion stared at his cup. It seemed very solid, very present and real... "If it is, your god doesn't exist."

"What makes you such an authority?" he asked, knowing Raach was baiting him, but annoyed just the same.

"I listen. I read. I learn. He's supposed to protect your spirit, and he didn't."

Arion put his face in his arms. "Kirtika, remember? He doesn't want it. Never did."

"Why do you say that?"

"Patka," he growled, raising his head to glare at him. "Have you come to rub my nose in it?"

He frowned. "Your expression doesn't translate."

He shrugged, abandoning passion. "You enjoy humiliating me."

"No."

"Then why rub my nose in it? You were right, okay? I understand now. Satisfied?"

Raach leaned forward. "Right about what?"

"A good tree doesn't bear bad fruit. And a bad tree can't bear good fruit. All I did was hurt them. You've been right all along. He doesn't want me."

Raach leaned back again, silent for a bit. "I have changed my mind about several things because of you. And about you. Right now I think I ve just realized how self-centered you really are. And it is strange, because I wouldn t call you selfish. But you are very self-important. You weren t doing it for them, you were doing it to make your god like you. You are very self-centered, and rather childish."

Arion looked at him, resentful and hurt, then down at his marl, defeated. Childish. As in weak, without any of the strength he had once fancied himself to have. He thought back to the dashing, brave figure he had feigned, comparing it to the pathetic, sulking child Raach had exposed. "He should have let me die."

"Why? Because He won't play by your rules?"

"What rules? The ones I can't understand? The ones I can't live up to? God doesn't want me. I can't do anything right because He s not in me. He doesn't care."

"You know what I think? You can't hear Him because you won't listen. You used my humans to try to make yourself look good, but they don't need you. You don't like what He's saying, so you invent your own answers and you simply don't listen." He left.

Arion sat staring at the doorway for a long time, his depression gathering itself into a small, hard core of ice. He got up then and went to bed. If he was expected to kill Reegat tonight, he would need his rest.