Grey Eagle - Chapter 28

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Sharsa returned some while later, bringing him out for lunch. They sat down in the front room, Arion sitting in the chair on his own. "Why wouldn't you talk to me before?" Sharsa asked quietly.

"...J's' scared," he mumbled.

"That I would lock you up?"

He nodded, accepting the simplicity of the answer.

"And how about now?"

He shrugged one shoulder. Sharsa hadn't locked him up, but he couldn't be planning to drug him every night. Sooner or later he was going to ask him to promise, and when he didn't...

"What are you afraid of?"

Arion sighed heavily, shaking his head, and shrugged again. He stared at his food, too ill to want it. He thought of Silas and the others - Sharsa had said he would eat with them, but that had been spoiled. At least they had each other...

"I'm not Raach," he said. Then, "How are you feeling? Do you have any hurts that need fixing?"

Hurts. Where didn't he hurt? But he didn't seem to be broken, unless his gut... He closed his eyes and shook his head. "Patch helps a lot. Thanks." He set his plate on a table next to his chair.

Sharsa was quiet for a time, eating. "Listen," he said at last, "are you going to try anything tonight? I'm not going to drug you again, but you're making me nervous. I'm not going to hurt you..."

Arion gave a short, troubled sigh and shook his head. He opened his mouth to say he didn't want to fight anymore, but the words wouldn't come. Sharsa would ask him to promise, and he still couldn't. Even now...

He realized suddenly that he would even be willing to live as a slave, like Raach's humans, if they would only leave him alone. But it made him feel both traitorous and foolish. He would never be allowed. He sighed heavily and shook his head again.

"Okay... No locks, no electrofields, no leashes. And no drugs. You're my guest, okay? Not a pet. Not a prisoner. You're a friend. You don't need permission to come out of your room.

If you're hungry, you know where the kitchen is. If you want to go outside, it's fine with me. All I ask is that you don't use the videcom without me. I won't punish you if you do, but I'll get in trouble. So I'm asking you as a friend, please don't use it without me."

Arion looked up at him, then down, his facial muscles taking on a life of their own, and again he felt foolish. His embarrassment suddenly struck him as totally ridiculous, and he would have smiled if he hadn't felt so awful.

Friend. Again he thought of Silas and the others. More painful still, he thought of Soren, wondering what he would think of him... "I don't exactly have anyone to contact anyway," he said at last, feeling some sort of response was expected after a speech like that.

Sharsa smiled slightly. "Reegat seemed quite attached to you when you left. He called last night to see how you were doing."

"He doesn't like me. He likes the nothing."

"Oh, he's not so bad under the right circumstances. He doesn't hate humans, just Gadamis."

"Yeah," he answered with a hint of bitterness, remembering Reegat's threat to do it again if he wasn't a nothing. He frowned then, wondering if Sharsa's statement was a subtle invitation to renounce his status. And if he didn't...? His shame hit him forcefully, feeling he had renounced his status already. A Cedrychad would never have given in. ...Like a dog.

"Are you going to be all right?" he asked then, sounding concerned.

"I.. I'm sorry. I just.. I'm sorry," he said brokenly, suddenly crumbling. "It's just... The past.. few days have been... have..." He trailed off, curling up inside the large chair, overwhelmed. He stiffened, cringing as Sharsa sat on the corner of his chair, stroking his shoulder with the back of his hand.

"Tch tch, Arion. I'm no beast. I'm a friend. You're not alone." Arion surrendered then, sobbing openly, clinging to the chair, to himself...

Gradually he calmed, and Sharsa stood up. He disappeared, but returned moments later. "These are yours," he said, setting the pocket pal and both wallets on the arm of the chair. "I picked up your clothes in the bathroom, and they were in the pockets."

He nodded. "Thanks," he managed.

"You're welcome. ...If you want to rest, I'll call you when dinner's ready. Think you'll be able to eat by then?"

He nodded again, uncurling. He picked up his things and stood, then hesitated, gathering himself. With an effort, he met Sharsa's eyes. "Thank you."

Sharsa smiled. "No problem."

Arion returned to his room and sat, thinking. With an effort, he forced himself to pray. By the time Sharsa came to tell him dinner was ready, he did feel better. He wasn't dead and he wasn't dying, so he had no business giving up.

He couldn't be what he expected of himself, so he must surrender - not to Sharsa, or to Raach - but to God, and to whatever use God might put him. They sat down to eat, but Sharsa remained quiet. Finally, Arion asked, "What happens now?"

"With you?"

"Yeah."

"I'm not really sure. You know what I want to do. What do you want to do?"

He shook his head, not knowing. Sharsa had offered him what he obviously wanted, but it had strings. Even without the strings, there was no way to accomplish it without being bait.

"I don't know how to make decisions anymore," he said, smiling a little. "Seems like I always make the wrong ones... I know God is with me, but..." He laughed softly. "It never used to matter that much, what I did, 'cause I always knew things would come out the way they were supposed to. Only now..."

He paused, then shook his head, puzzled. It seemed presumptuous to say that his actions could make any major difference, but it seemed to be what the old writings taught. Only... "I can make things easier or harder I guess."

Sharsa chuckled. "So why not make things easier?"

He looked up at Sharsa, hesitating. "Because Satan's loose," he said, fully accepting it now, and the immense burden it represented. Surely only Satan could have given him so many doubts. "He... likes to show the easy way out. Only it won't be. Not in the long run. What I do... It has to be for the right reasons, not just because it sounds good."

Sharsa's ears frowned at that, and he hesitated, considering. "Why," he asked slowly, "does it seem wrong, to you, to talk to your people? Just talk to them. What harm could there be in that?"

"No offense, but I don't want to be bait. I don't want people dying just because I want to go home."

"So having a chance to go home is supposed to be Satan's idea?"

"Well, not necessarily," he answered carefully, noting that Sharsa was trying not to show his frustration.

Sharsa laughed then. "No wonder you're so confused! You've certainly got me confused. What would be the harder, but better alternative then?"

"Staying here and taking whatever I've got coming to me," he answered softly.

"But what if God wants you to go home?"

"Then it'll happen without me trying to make it happen for myself."

"Sounds pretty lame to me," complained Sharsa. "How can you expect him to get you home if you won't do anything to help?"

"I don't expect to go home."

"So if I want to send you home, I have to do it myself. Is that it?"

"Well, I guess that's what it boils down to, yes. I don't mean to stubborn, or difficult, but under the circumstances... There's no good reason, do you see? Only selfish ones."

"Peace is selfish?" he asked, mildly indignant. He let it go then and asked, "If I do that for you, will you talk to them for me?"

Arion sighed heavily, wincing slightly in spite of the patch. "The whole problem is, I don't like your peace plan. I like you Sharsa, but I can't support you when I hate what you re doing."

"But you saw them," he said, clearly hurt. "They're happy. What's so awful about it if they're happy?"

He looked down and shook his head. "I'm sorry, Sharsa, but that's the way I feel."

"I don't understand you," he said crossly. "What more do you want?"

"What I want isn't important anymore."

"That's ridiculous. I'm trying to help you and you won't let me."

"I'm not stopping you," he offered softly.

"Arion, think about what you're saying. Try to see things from my side for once. Just for once! I have given you every freedom I can think of to give you. I am trying to set up a way for you to go home. And all you will say is that you won't cooperate and you hate what I do.

"Did it ever occur to you that there might be some risk involved for me too? I really don't cherish the idea of inviting a Hammerstar to come cruising in with a free pass to pick up someone who seems to hate me no matter how hard I try..." He trailed off, too aggravated to continue.

Arion glanced up at him, wanting to apologize, but his throat was tight. When he met his eyes, he looked away, frightened, his skin prickling. "May I go back to my room now?"

"Yes. I told you. You don't need permission."

The next morning he woke early, though he had had trouble falling asleep. He sat quietly for a long time, musing over last night's conversation. He became hungry, but he delayed, tinkering, reluctant to face Sharsa. Eventually Sharsa appeared in the doorway, last night's frustration gone. "Aren't you hungry yet?"

He smiled sheepishly. "Yeah."

"Come on already then," he said, smiling. Arion followed him into the kitchen and Sharsa handed him a plate. "I'm sorry about last night," he said on the way into the front room. "I'm used to being patient with the damats, because it takes them so long to understand. I guess I tend to think talking makes everything simple when it isn't."

Arion laughed slightly, uncomfortable. "I'm sorry too..." He smiled, swallowed. "I must seem like a total lunatic."

"Yes, you do," he agreed cheerfully, "but I don't need to pick on you for it. That won't help anything. ...Can you explain to me why the damats bother you so?"

"We went over that before, a long time ago."

"Tell me again. I didn't understand before, but maybe if we talk about it I will."

He sighed heavily and shook his head. "...You once said they aren't abused. But they are. And nobody cares. You're asking me not to care, and I can't do that."

"I'm not asking you not to care. I'm asking you to talk to your people for me."

"Why don't you ask Silas?"

Sharsa smiled slightly and shook his head. "He doesn't trust me any better than you do, and I trust him quite a bit less. Besides, it would sound a lot better coming from a Cedrychad."

"So what's going to happen to him and the others?"

He sighed, hesitating. "They'll probably get eaten. ...Arion, this is exactly the sort of situation I'm trying to get rid of. They got picked up, shipped in, and they refuse to adjust. There's nothing we can do with them. Most humans never even get a choice. Your choice is unheard of. And all I'm asking is that you talk to your people for me."

"And tell them you have this great idea for peace. But it isn't great. It isn't even decent," he said, wondering how long it would take before he was eaten for refusing to adjust.

"Is it decent for people to die just to try to stop us from taking the humans we'll eventually take anyway? When you fight, you save some for awhile, but it only means we have to go somewhere else and try again.

"Anyone who dies in a raid dies for nothing. That's what the people on Lenis understand. They can't stop us so they don't try. Yes, they lose people to us, but we only take what we need. No one dies just to try to stop us. No one dies for nothing, so they actually lose fewer people.

"With the damats, we wouldn't have to take any of your people. Yes, damats would die, but they would die innocent, without fear. It's no different than the same number of humans who would die anyway, only there would be no fear, no suffering, no needless, pointless, deaths. No children waking up in the middle of the night with nightmares."

Arion frowned, remembering Raach's scathing contempt because the writings taught peace, and yet they fought back. But the writings were talking about between humans. This was different.

Wasn't it? ...Fighting might be right, but he no longer knew that any more than he knew that it was wrong. Raach hadn't exactly said they had souls, but he hadn't said they didn't either... "Sharsa, do you have a soul?"

He laughed. "What brought that on?"

He hesitated, unable to explain. If he did, Sharsa might fabricate something. "The people on Lenis don't fight you because they can't hope to win. But their fear drives them to fight each other. That has to be worse than fighting you. You want me to go home and tell the entire Gadamista to stop fighting. To let the Rikshastika do whatever they want, because you'll kill us anyway. I can't tell them that."

"Well, no," he answered chuckling. "Not when you put it that way. I don't expect peace right away. What I want you to tell them is, I'm serious. That you trust me. I need them to be willing to listen to me or we can never negotiate anything."

He took a deep.. a half deep breath, letting it out slowly, a festering question finally crystallizing into recognizable form. But he hesitated, afraid to ask, afraid to expose the lie and seal his doom. He looked up, searching his eyes...

"Sharsa... You say the damats would replace us, but... Why waste that much time, that much food, just to raise meat you can catch for free?"

Sharsa smiled and nodded as if expecting the question. "They are carefully raised," he said slowly, "but we can feed them foods that we can't eat."

Arion raised his eyebrows dubiously and shrugged. "Still doesn't seem worth it. Spend how long to raise them, just so..." It wasn't decent.

Sharsa sighed. "Yes, but in the long run it'll be worth it. Not all of them are for food, so it's worth it. Trust me, it'll work."

But I don't trust you. "So what's the advantage? All this fuss and bother to raise damats, to avoid killing humans... I'm sorry, but I just don't see it. What's in it for you guys?"

Sharsa stared at him for a moment, then smiled slightly. "You of all people I would expect to understand that. Tell me, how many venators did you kill before you were captured? Damats don't kill anybody. That's what makes it worthwhile, Arion. We don't want to die just for something to eat."

He immediately thought of Manak, but even so, Manak had blamed him, not Reegat. But he still didn't like it, didn't trust it, couldn't support it. It was one thing for a venator to think that it was reasonable, but quite another for a human to endorse it. He sighed, troubled.

There was so much that he simply didn't know, or couldn't understand. He knew that Raach was with the Rikshastika, and they were the most powerful governing force among the Venatorista. Yet Raach had claimed a relationship with God. More importantly, he truly seemed to know what he was talking about.

If that was all true, was the Gadamista wrong to fight them? Could Sharsa be right? But God couldn't possibly want that. Except, as Raach had once pointed out, the original writings spoke of God sending people into slavery for being rebellious.

Raach had once called him mutinous, blaming him for his own capture. Maybe now that Satan was loose again... "Sharsa, I just don't know what to think anymore. I like you but..."

"Well, let it ride for now. Too much too fast. Let it ride."

Arion sighed, relieved and grateful. "Thanks."