Full Circle

[Eidolon]

Kasimir

Home cooking. That seemed to be his mother’s answer to the ordeal, as though she suspected the Tower had not fed him well, else she might somehow tie him to her kitchen table with memories of childhood. Spiced stew and cheeses and bread, still warm, with watered wine in a cool pitcher. Humble by Tower standards, but Kasimir was content. He ate while his mother still bustled about the kitchen, anticipating the conversation that would follow. Never brace a man with a difficult conversation when he had an empty stomach; Altaran women knew that.

Zara was at the other end of the table, picking at some of the dishes, but with a face that suggested she realised it would be her washing up later. She had been awfully quiet since last night. They both had. It was like they tip-toed around him, afraid the wrong word would set him running off again. Or perhaps they were simply tired of the arguments; the things Zar had said last night… it had not been a happy household in his absence.

His mother had not yet tried to foist a visitation on his father, though she spent plenty of time tending to him herself. Light but he was not looking forward to that conversation, content in the stomach or not. No matter what his mother or sister – or even Malaika – thought, his relationship with Chakai was too fractured to repair. He had tried – and so many times. Probably Chakai had tried to, but they were on parallel paths, black and white, destined never to see eye to eye. But it seemed Kasimir was the only one willing to accept it.

When his mother finally broached conversation, it was not what he had expected.

“I’m going to hire help, for your father.”

Jahzara, who had made quite the mess picking apart a bread roll, looked up, eyes wide. “Mother, we can’t afford something like that.”

Sharain frowned, and Kasimir saw the truth of it. He must be bad if she thinks he really needs this. Guilt, or duty – or something – pricked at his conscience. He scraped back his chair. Sharain nearly dropped the plate in her hand, banging it down on the table and clutching his arm. As if he was going to click his fingers and disappear. He patted her fingers.

“We need more money. So I am going to get a job.”

---

He had said it so nonchalantly, but actually finding a job was harder than he had thought. A morning passed in a blur of shaking heads and grumbled ‘nos’, until Kas had relented to an afternoon tipple with his scant coin. Truth told, the idea of a mundane job made his spirit sink like lead. There was only one thing he was good at, but one didn’t make honest coin that way. Glass of amber liquid in one hand, he flipped a dagger from the sleeve of the other, and contemplated it thoughtfully.

He downed the last of his drink, mind set to its course. It was hours until dark, and home was the last place he wished to return to. He didn’t have the funds to spend the time wandering taverns, and there was somewhere – and someone – he should really visit now that he was back.

---

“Please, sit.” Kat gestured with her head, crossing the room to take a chair herself. The dark-haired babe in her arms stirred, making small baby-like noises, then settled. The young toddler by the gated hearth watched with coal-black eyes as he sat, ceasing the game he was making of a wood-carved dagger, painted to resemble the real thing.

“Papi chair,” he said, turning to implore his mother.

“This is your uncle, Tav. Uncle Kasimir.”

“Papi chair!”

“Yes, but papi is working, Tav. Hush now, so I may speak with your uncle.”

“Papi chair"

The kid’s face was growing red, and not simply from the warmth of the fire. Creator help me, shut the brat up. “I can move…”

“No.” Kataria’s face grew stern, a mirror of their mother’s. “Tavrin Mubrel, you will listen to your mother and behave yourself.”

The kid’s face grew redder, like he was holding his breath, and he made a long, screechy noise in retaliation, but he said nothing more, and after a moment returned to his game with a determined sulkiness. Kat’s lips quirked into a smile, and her attention returned to Kas. He smiled, a little uneasily, in return.

“I could’ve just moved, sis.”

“Tav needs to learn. How are you, Kasimir? It’s been a long time.”

Kas grinned wryly and shook his head, brushing back the hair from his face. Always to the point, was Kat. She and their mother were probably thick as thieves, and she would know of this conversation before Kas had even made it home. “Fresh from the White Tower, as I’m sure Mother has told you. I met our Aunt. It was… interesting.” He poked the arm of the chair with his finger, waiting out the interrogation.  Black eyes moved between his sister and her son by the hearth, the epitome of normal family life… and he realised how little he wanted any of it.

Kataria was quiet a moment, her attention apparently on the babe in her arms, though the furrow in her brow spoke otherwise. “Family is important. If it grieves our father so much that you went to the White Tower, perhaps you should stay away. But it doesn’t do you any good living in that house, either. You’re a man grown, not a boy.” Her dark eyes rose, and a light of mirth crept into their depths. There’s my sister. “Married, that’s what you should be, Kasimir Nevaran. A good woman would sort you out in no time, but I don’t know a single woman I would force you on, you insufferable lout.”

“Oh how you wound me, dearest sister!” He pressed a hand to his chest in mock offence, but didn’t bother continuing the charade as he usually would. “Mother’s going to hire help for our father. She needs extra coin to be able to do so, and I can get it. I know I can get it…” his voice trailed off. Kat looked suspicious. “But there’s only one way I can get it, and we both know she won’t approve. But if she doesn’t know…”

“Spit it out, brother dearest.”

“Tell her I’m working for your husband.”

“Lie to our mother.”

“…Protect her from information that would only upset her further.”

After a moment, she sighed. “You’re a rogue, Kas, and you’ll never change. I’ll cover for you, because I know it won’t stop you duelling if I don’t. But you owe me.”

---

He lay staring at the ceiling, one arm cushioning his head, as dawn light began to soften the room’s dark shadow to grey. Suran had already stirred beside him, and slipped her warm body from the bed.  Her soft skin glowed in half-light, and he turned his black eyes to watch as she moved about the room, deftly retrieving items of clothing. She was beautiful, and what woman wouldn’t be with curls of ebony hair cascading down her back, tickling over her shoulders and down her chest as she bent to the floor. But lust had left him now, his thoughts were elsewhere. She caught his gaze, though, a smirk at the corner of her lips, and a pair of breeches promptly smacked him in the head.

An errant grin brightened his face as he pulled them off, depositing them the other side of the bed, but the expression was short-lived. He sighed, half-lidding his eyes, sleep an intoxicating ghost at his side. He’d lost her attention now, but didn’t realise it. He also missed the way in which she began to dress quickly, pulling her dark locks from her collar and looking at him with pursed lips. Eventually she cleared her throat, but he only looked up at her when she banged the dresser beside her bed. Something gold glittered in her hands. He squinted and sat up, watching as she fastened the necklace. Oh, trolloc piss

A slender brow rose in her forehead as the knife settled in the cut-out collar above her breasts. “My husband will be home soon. He works with the Night Guard.” Her eyes alighted on the water-clock by the window. “I would guess you have about-”

“Dark One’s bloody pit, why didn’t you-” He shook his head, legs already out of the bed, breeches to his knees.  She had said, in all the subtle huffs and sighs since she had risen, but he had been too busy emptying his sorrows to pay attention.Blood and bloody ashes! “I’m gone,” he said, tying his boot and eyeing the room for the other. There. As he pulled it on, she approached with his shirt hooked on the end of her delicate finger. He grinned, plucked it off.

“Tick tock,” she said, a lazy smile on her beautiful lips. Until the sound of a door opening and closing downstairs echoed up to the bedroom; at that she certainly stiffened, and all her coy pretensions ceased cold. “Out!” One arm in, the other joining it with a shrug, but she was already bundling him to the window.

“That’s an awfully long drop, Suran…” Now it was his turn to tease her, but with her blazing eyes and desperate fingers navigating the shutters, she was having none of it. One foot on the sill – and damn, his laces were loose. But she was already shoving him by the backside, urging him out face-first if he wasn’t careful. “I’m going, light, I’m going.” He twisted, kept his footing with a mixture of skill and luck, eyed his way down, then finally turned back. A grin lifted his lips and he kissed the pretty little nose on her stricken face. A wink, half-hidden by black hair tousled round his face, and he dropped. The shutter banged shut after him.

It was still early, but not early enough for the streets to be deserted. In pale dawn light, the world was already coming to life. Kasimir nodded his head in greeting at someone staring as he closed the buttons up his scruffy, untucked shirt. The man, trundling a cart after him, turned his eyes quickly and carried on his way. The whole day awaited him like unrolled canvas, just waiting for the splashes of colour and line that would shape the day.

The Rahad would not grow busy until sunset, and his pockets would be light until then. Time to find something to fill the time between.

---

“Look after the children, Kas, I will be as fast as I can.” Already she was pressing the baby in his arms, and already Kasimir thought his arms were turning to water.

“Wait, I ca-”

“You are my brother, Kasimir Nevaren, and you help out how you can. Suralee visits her mother this morning, and she will be back before lunch if I am not before then. A few hours, at the most. Shiana has been fed and changed – she will sleep through, I swear.”

“Shiana’s not the one I’m-”

“Thank you brother.” She kissed him on the cheek.

***

The babe was in its cot, quiet as you like, but it was Tav he had not relished spending time with. Of course, being the resourceful human being that he was, Kasimir had devised a way to entertain him. The boy sat at his feet, staring as the dagger glittered and twirled in the air, then disappeared up a sleeve.

“Again!”

This part, of course, he had not anticipated. Half an hour had passed already. Kasimir had never thought he’d ever tire of his blades, but this was getting… tedious. He ran a hand through his hair.

“Don’t you need to sleep, eat? Let’s do something else, eh?”

“Again!”

“How about…? No?”

“Again, again, again! Ucle Kasi, again!”

“One more? Okay? Last time, kid.” He waited for some sign of assent to the agreement, but the boy simply clapped his hands and gurgled a laugh. Right. Kas sighed, splaying his palms so he could see they were empty. “Ready?” A snap of the wrist and the dagger was in his hands, a twirl and it danced over his fingers. “One, two, three!” Up it went, spinning in the air, until Kas caught it hilt first. Another flick, and gone.

“Again!”

Creator give me strength!

“All gone now. Finished.”

Tavrin’s eyes narrowed. He seemed to be thinking, steaming under his breath, but suddenly thrust out his chubby hand. “Mine,” he demanded, “Is mine.”

“You can’t have it. Dangerous, okay? Hurt yourself. Kill yourself! Bad, very bad. You don’t want it.”

“Is mine, ucle kasi.” His fingers opened and closed in a grabbing motion. His face was going pink.

“Right…right…” And then it came to him. “Where’s your one, huh? Yes, that’s it! That’s your one. Well done. Clever boy.” Quick bloody thinking. As his nephew preoccupied himself with his wood painted dagger, Kasimir leaned back in the chair, running both hands over his head.

Thunk, thunk, thunk, the dagger tapped against his foot. He had to stop himself kicking out – creator above, this was an exercise in control like nothing before. He had to remind himself, physically remind himself, that it was a child – barely older than a baby, and his sister’s child to boot. His nephew. “Don’t do that, Tav.”

Thunk, thunk, thunk.

“You’re gonna ruin perfectly good boots. Stop it, please. Go and play over there, yeah? Your mama will be home soon.”

Thunk, thunk, thunk.

Kasimir leaned forward in his chair, just as the child rammed the pointed end of the wooden dagger back into his foot. He looked up, grinning from ear to ear. Kas frowned, and tried to prise the toy dagger from his chubby hand, blind to the way the kid’s face grew pink and his eyes grew glassy. The shrill cry was the first he realised he’d made Tav cry. Light! This is, this is ridiculous! He glanced up, praying that at least the other one would stay sleeping, and tried to push the dagger back into Tav’s hands. He was having none of it.

“Hey, hey, quiet down? How about – hey, listen Tav, listen. How about I teach you to fly, yeah? High as a raken!” He held out his hands, and the boy’s cries muffled a little. He sniffed, contemplated the offer, and then a smile brightened his face like clouds on a sunny day – quick as you like! Baffled, annoyed, but at least relieved the bloody noise had stopped, he indicated with his hands that they boy should get up. Tav launched himself into Kas’ arms, and he lifted the kid high, whirling him about the room so that he giggled and dribbled.

Another hour. Kas’ arms burned like fire, but the kid had finally grown tired of the game – tired full stop, actually, and had snuggled against his side on the armchair. Kas dozed himself, sleep misting the edges of his senses.

And that’s when the other one started crying…

---

The sun was warm, and the river’s waves lapped at the sides of the boat with gentle rhythm. Jahzara lounged on her end, eyes half lidded. Kas half watched her, and half the man at the prow, who steered them through Ebou Dar’s many canals with a single long oar. His fingers trailed in the water, cold despite the spring weather.

“You don’t really work for Mubrel, do you.” It was not a question; Zara did even deign to open her eyes, though the smallest of smiles caught the edge of her lips.

“No.” Never lie when you were caught out, and especially not to a woman. They would only eke the truth out of you anyway, and make you pay for the trouble it took.

“I don’t know if mother knows. If she does she’s ignoring it. Thinks you’re well on the way to becoming a reputable man; wife, babies, the lot. But you don’t make coin like you do by selling turnips… or whatever it is Kat’s husband does.”

Kasimir laughed. “‘Reputable man’, huh.”

“I didn’t disabuse her of the notion. It makes her happy.”

He grinned and flicked his fingers, sprinkling icy water in Zara’s face. She squealed and sat forward, rocking the boat and eliciting a grumbling from the steerer. “For the record, it wouldn’t kill you to think about those things. You aren’t getting any younger. All the good women will be gone!”

He laughed. “Can you really see me with a wife and a dozen kids? That’s not a dream, it’s a nightmare!”

Zara sat forward, frowning. The sun lit her from behind, so her hair infused warmth, but her eyes looked black. “You really don’t want those things?”

Kas shrugged. “Do you?”

She stared at him for a long moment, and Kasimir slowly realised that they had stopped playing. All their lives had been playful banter, but ultimately they had been on the same side. It suddenly felt like Jahzara had defected. “Well… yes. I do. I want to be a mother, Kas. I want a family, and a good husband. That’s not strange.” She half laughed, but it faded when he realised he could think of nothing to say. It wasn’t strange, it was ordinary. It was expected. And it filled him with a sort of dread.

She leaned forward, her gaze uncomfortably intense. “You are so like our father, Kas, and you just can’t see it.”

Kasimir frowned, but kept his lips sealed. He would not rise to that bait, to that dark presence on the horizon that threatened to ruin such a pleasant afternoon. He hoped the sudden sourness of his expression would dissuade his sister from pursuing the topic, but either she was ignorant or chose to ignore. “Do you think papi would have chosen to settle in Ebou Dar, to take a wife and have children, if not for his leg?”

“Zara…”

“Think of the way he speaks of Seanchan – of glory and honour--”

“--don’t spoil the afternoon, Zar.”

“No, listen, Kas. You two are so similar, and if you’re not careful, you’re going to end up as bitter as him because of past regrets and stupid mistakes. Settle your affairs here and find your purpose. If it’s not a family you want, what is it you do want?”

And that really is the question, isn’t it. He lay back in the boat, huffing a sigh and utterly ignoring his sister’s question. Clouds skittered across the sky, and the humdrum of Ebou Dar continued on around them. But her voice echoed round and round in his head. What is it you do want?