Cross Purposes (Chronicles of Ylandre, Book 5) (10 page)

What did you expect?
Tristen scolded himself. Keosqe enjoyed his company, but he loved Veare. Tristen sighed. Veare would always come first with him; there was no getting around that.

He caught his breath when someone gently brushed his hair from his damp cheeks. Tristen rolled on his side with a jerk and stared up at Keosqe. The noble was seated to his right on the edge of the bed.

Keosqe frowned as he perused Tristen’s face. Conscious of his ruffled state, Tristen quickly sat up, brushing his eyes and wiping his cheeks as he did.

“Veare was too harsh with you,” Keosqe commented.

Tristen shook his head. “I spoke out of turn. I deserved it.”

“You were only being honest.”

“Too honest. I should have kept my opinions to myself.”

“Or you could have been more tactful.”

Tristen tried to tamp down on the welling hurt of the rebuke, but it refused to subside completely and he lowered his head in misery.

“I’m sorry,
Dyhar
,” he mumbled.

“Why are you apologizing to me?” Keosqe asked, surprise in his voice.

“For disappointing you.”

Keosqe slid two fingers under Tristen’s chin and forced him to meet his gaze.

“What makes you think I was disappointed?”

Tristen gulped. “Your expression told me that you were. But I acted like a boor back there and offended Veare very much. So it’s only natural that you disapproved of my behavior. I’m truly sorry.”

“Is that what you thought?” Keosqe shook his head. “I wasn’t reproaching you, Tris. But neither did I want your quarrel with him to escalate. Veres only knows what either of you would have said had you gone further. Mayhap things you can never unsay or forgive.” He flashed Tristen a small, sad smile. “You know your brother can be so blind to his own failings.”

“He always is,” Tristen muttered.

“Almost always,” Keosqe amended. “In any case, I knew he would pay me no mind. Not if it entailed backing down from your argument in my presence. His pride would never allow that. But you’ve always been the reasonable one. I knew you would heed me; that you would let prudence direct you. What I didn’t expect was that you would take my actions for censure.” He lifted a hand to push Tristen’s tousled hair from his forehead. “Did you think I had sided with him against you?”

Tristen stared, startled Keosqe had guessed the source of his hurt. He looked away, his face heating up again in renewed embarrassment.

“I’m sorry that you were hurt. That was never my intention. But do you realize what this means to me?” Keosqe softly asked.

Tristen glanced at him, puzzled. “What means what to you?”

“That you care enough to let what I say or do affect you thusly.”

His heart starting to pound, Tristen averted his gaze again. “You’ve been very good to me. Of course, I’d be affected.”

Keosqe eyed him in open disbelief. “Is it only gratitude then?”

Tristen wondered if he’d offended Keosqe somehow. “Nay, that wasn’t…” He stopped and chewed nervously on his lower lip. “It isn’t just gratitude,” he conceded. “I do enjoy your company and, well, you’re not as I expected when I first came here.”

“Meaning you’ve learned to like me after all,” Keosqe supplied with a grin.

“I never disliked you in the first place!”

Tristen rolled his eyes and drew a calming breath. Keosqe had a way of upending his thoughts to the point of incoherence.

Keosqe chuckled. “Yes, you did tell me that before. But it’s nice to know for certain.” He stood up. “It will take time for Veare to let this pass. You know how he is.”

Tristen nodded. “He’ll let me stew a while before accepting my apology.” He looked up, a little miffed. “I heard him say so. Please don’t try to make excuses for him.”

“I wasn’t going to. Indeed I told him he was in the wrong to do that. You don’t deserve to be treated thusly.” Keosqe sighed. “He wasn’t too pleased with me, but he didn’t gainsay me either. I wager he’ll come around sooner than you think.”

“You did that?” Tristen couldn’t help beaming at him. “That was nice of you, Kes-
tyar
. Thank you.”

Keosqe returned the smile. He placed his hand on Tristen’s head and ruffled his hair fondly.

In that instant, Tristen realized not only had he grown accustomed to the affectionate gesture, he’d learned to actually enjoy it. Indeed, at times like this, he looked forward to Keosqe’s kindly attention and the sense of security and confidence it bestowed on him.

Chapter 6

Unexpected

C.A. 3008

With the advent of another year, Tristen realized he was well on his way to achieving his goal. Elated at having accomplished so much, he sallied forth each day with much enthusiasm. The hard slog of his first years in medical studies had dampened his cheer somewhat, so it was a relief to regain the fervor that had started him off in the first place.

Admittedly, the encouragement extended to him by his brother, friends, and instructors was helpful. But none more so than the support Keosqe gave him every step of the way. Tristen often wondered if he would have come this far had he stuck to his original plan, which had been to rent his own rooms wherever they were within his means and scrimp his way through university.

Looking back, he had to admit he had been overly optimistic about it. There was no way he would have managed even one year on his meager budget. Not in Rikara where even the seediest rooms did not come as cheap as they might outside of the capital city.

Keosqe was his savior. Tristen might not like being beholden to anyone, but even he had to acknowledge his debt of gratitude to his host. Now if only he could voice his thanks, he was sure it would please Keosqe greatly and strengthen their ever deepening friendship as well.

* * * *

The moment he saw Keosqe’s expression at breakfast, Tristen knew something troubled the latter. Nay, saddened him was a more apt description, he thought, as he noted the not-quite-hidden pain in his eyes and his wan smile as he greeted Tristen. As he sat down to his meal. Tristen surreptitiously observed him, wondering what accounted for his low spirits so early in the day.

As the butler poured him a cup of steaming milk tea, Tristen noticed he had a letter from his brother placed on the dining table to the left of his plate. He quickly looked across at Keosqe and saw a similar, already opened envelope by his plate, addressed to the noble in Veare’s distinctive scrawl.

Tristen frowned. That letter no doubt was the reason for Keosqe’s somber mood.

“What did Veare write to you about?” Tristen asked, not quite suppressing his annoyance with his brother.

Keosqe looked at him in some surprise then glanced down at the envelope. His mouth tightened a bit before he forced it into a less grim line.

“I imagine the same thing he included in his letter to you,” he quietly said.

Grimacing in some apprehension, Tristen opened his letter and read as he ate. He swore under his breath when he came to the point of the missive.

I have exciting news for you, Tris-
min
. You will be an uncle come summer! At least, barring a miscarriage, Veres forbid. But the physician said I am very hale and should carry the child to term without any problems. Is this not something to crow about, little brother? A pity
Aba
and
Adda
did not live to see their first grandchild. They would have been so proud!

Tristen’s scowl returned. Veare had agreed to be the child bearer? How could he? It was one thing for commoners to share the role between them or even untitled aristocrats of equal rank. However, Veare was a
thein
and several notches above Narion in blood and society.

He gritted his teeth. Could it be Veare felt so beholden to his spouse for rescuing him from social obscurity and financial hardship, he’d deemed making a commoner of less than respectable background his baronial consort insufficient payment?

A pox on them both! This was not acceptable in the least. Not amongst their class anyway. Tristen was no snob but he was aware of the rules of behavior and preferred to abide them so long as they did no harm to others. Besides, the consequences of flouting convention could be unpleasant at best, damaging to name and reputation at worst. Reading on, he realized his brother was cognizant of this.

Narion and I will move west to Gethin when I begin to show. His family has a small estate just outside the town. Can you imagine that? They have another residence! And they plan to purchase a townhouse in Rikara. In the east district close to the moneylenders’ section. I am truly fortunate to have married him. It is such a relief after all those years of making do. And Narion treats me like a crown jewel. Well I dare say I am quite the prize and in any case I’m pleased to let him show me off. Besides, in his circle, I am highest ranked. And now that I have his wealth to back me up, I am on equal footing with the other nobles of Sidona save for the Deilens. Is that not a wondrous turn of events?

I will write you the address when we leave for Gethin so you may send your letters there. We will return to Nivare some months after I birth. I’d rather not be the butt of gossip if you know what I mean. Thank goodness Narion understands the situation.

Tristen did not bother to finish the letter but folded it and flung it to one side. He sat back with a sigh of disgust over Veare’s behavior. Did Veare really think their parents would be proud? More likely they were turning in their graves and giving thanks for having been taken away before they perforce bore witness to their eldest son’s execrable choices.

Glancing across the table, he saw that Keosqe had barely touched his food. He watched Keosqe listlessly lift his mug to his lips, his normally expressive eyes dull and unseeing. Indeed, his entire demeanor was of someone bereaved and lost. His heart going out to the noble, Tristen cast about for something that might cheer him up or at least distract him from his grief and jealousy.

“…corpses.”

Keosqe looked at him across the rim of the mug, puzzled. He lowered the mug. “I beg your pardon?”

“I said I hate working with corpses,” Tristen said a little louder. At Keosqe’s bewildered expression, he added, “Yesterday, in anatomy class.”

“Why would you…? Ah, you dissected cadavers?”

Tristen nodded. “Would that I didn’t have to. I want to keep people alive, not deal with dead bodies.”

Keosqe’s mouth quirked in amusement. “But in order to keep people alive, you have to know what’s inside them that keeps them alive, correct?”

“Please,” Tristen groused. “No lectures. Kes-
tyar
.”

“I wasn’t lecturing.”

“That was close enough.”

Keosqe stared at him. “What’s really bothering you, Tris?”

“I don’t know what you mean,” Tristen retorted.

“You knew you would eventually have to work with cadavers in the course of your training,” Keosqe pointed out. “Surely you steeled yourself enough to do it.”

Tristen snorted. “Oh, stick your hand into a pile of organs and see if you fare any better!”

That made Keosqe grimace in turn. “I have, actually.” When Tristen stared at him in disbelief, he explained, “Well, I’ve kept battle-wounded people’s guts from spilling out. Sometimes it’s the only way to keep a Deir’s entrails in his belly until a healer comes along.”

Tristen gasped. “Holy saints! And you aren’t horrified by it?”

“Of course I am. But I can’t let my personal feelings get in the way, can I? And neither can you. Especially not you.” Keosqe frowned. “Not when a person’s very life may be in your hands.”

Temporarily silenced, Tristen shoved a few spoonfuls of spiced porridge into his mouth. At length, he muttered, “You have a point, but…”

“But?”

Tristen exhaled. “I knew we would cut open bodies and examine their insides,” he admitted.

Keosqe regarded him curiously. “Then what seems to be the problem?”

“Nothing really except…”

“Yes?”

“Well, if only the instructor stuck to that.”

“Why? What else did he ask you to do?”

Tristen could feel his cheeks start to heat up. “Well, we, uh, focused on the procreative process.”

Keosqe’s eyebrows rose. “And?”

“I thought we would only study the internal organs.” Tristen pretended to examine the cutlery. “The womb, I mean. Maybe the sheath as well.”

“So I take it he went further.”

“Exactly. He also lectured us on the … the mechanics of, um, penetration.”

“The mechanics? Oh…” A glint appeared in Keosqe’s eyes as he appeared to figure out where Tristen was going with the conversation. “And did he speak at length about how one achieves the proper degree of swelling?”

Feeling he had dug quite a hole for himself, Tristen took a deep breath and plunged on. “He explained how the member stiffens enough to enable penetration and we were supposed to slice open the shafts of our cadavers so we could see what he was talking about,” he rushed through his reply almost without pausing for breath. “I delayed cutting into mine until he was done speaking. I didn’t want to make a mistake just because I didn’t hear an important instruction. So I stood there, holding the damn shaft in my hand, and waited. And then one of my group mates—we were divided into teams of five per cadaver—the idiot laughed loud enough to attract everyone’s attention including our instructor. Which led
him
to say that…”

Tristen stopped, wondering what had made him think it was a good idea to relate the previous day’s experience.

“What did he say?” Keosqe pressed him, his eyes now dancing.

“He said our corpse’s member wouldn’t revive no matter how long I stroked it,” Tristen mumbled.

Keosqe huffed a chuckle. “A rather bawdy jest,” he remarked. “I imagine it lightened your class a goodly bit.” Tristen nodded reluctantly. “But surely something so silly shouldn’t have discomfited you.”

Tristen shook his head. “I wasn’t. I mean, not by that. It’s just that … as soon as he said that, I let go of the confounded thing and it didn’t … it didn’t lie down.”