Chapter Eighteen
I’d like to say that I saw Fin off alone. Only I didn’t. The entire Fortress turned out. Dora was going to fly him to Murmaberg, then return alone. From there, Fin would join the overland trade route across the continent to Rhastac.
We stood on the landing platform, all circled around him, Salvadora waiting as everyone said their goodbyes. He had been a part of their lives for so long, his absence was going to be sorely felt. There were hugs and handshakes, tears and sniffs of denial. Everyone wished him well.
Standing there, watching him, it hit me.
He was so different from the boy he’d been when we had arrived fifteen years earlier.
He was as tall as me, but broader and strong.
Confident without being cocky. He was my pride and joy.
And he was about to step out into the big wide world and face new adventures, new challenges, new …
everything. His pack couldn’t have been stuffed any more full.
Everyone had outdone themselves in helping me to provide the things he’d need.
The Quartermaster had even procured new leathers, made to measure no less, and blue, ready for college.
Very unlike the beaten brown leathers he wore now.
The only things he was missing, really, was the books. There wasn’t a bookstore anywhere close by.
“I’ve put what coda I can in your account,” I told him.
“There are bookshops in Rhastac, the most reliable is Charles Cook’s Books.
But he’s pricey, and new books only. There are other places where you can get second-hand copies.
Also, I hear the Archives are extensive.
You should be able to borrow most stuff from there. Just remember to budget carefully.”
Fin grinned at me. “It’s okay, Dad, I remember all my maths lessons, budgeting as well as aerial ballistics. I’ll be fine.”
“Good, because I’m going to miss you.” I hugged him yet again.
“I’ll write,” he promised over my shoulder.
“No, you won’t,” Ang said. He had a hand on each of our shoulders. “Rhastac doesn’t allow first years to communicate with the outside world. But we’ll be here after your first year, eager for news.”
“Remember—”
“Sullivan,” Ang said softly. “Time to let the boy go.”
My throat was dry as a desert, and I fought to keep my eyes that way too. Fin moved out onto the platform to Dora. Then he turned, stood at attention, and saluted us all. And every man jack of the Fortress, even Ang, did the same.
“He’s got a good day for it,” Gahunia said.
Fin ran up Dora’s leg and on to her back, gained the seat bone in such a natural flow of movement it was almost liquid.
“Aye, it’s a great adventure before him,” Fenwick agreed.
Then Fin saluted again, and Dora launched, her great wingspan carrying them swiftly to a flight elevation and away.
“I almost envy him starting the journey,” the Quartermaster said as he turned to go inside.
“Shows how long ago you were in college,” Jimny said, trailing after. “It’s brutal. I wouldn’t go again for coda.”
Aware that others were going inside, I stayed and watched, waiting until I could see them no more. Then I waited some more. I felt a touch on my elbow.
“Sullivan?”
I sniffed and turned to face him. “Yes, Flight Captain?”
He shook his head. “Now is not the time for ranks.”
I dragged in a shuddering breath. “I can’t believe he’s gone already.”
Ang’s smile was sad, and perhaps his eyes were a little more damp than normal. He moved closer, wiped a tear and traced the line of the scar on my cheek. Gods, this man was dear to me. Then he embraced me. And I leaned into him.
“Feels like we only just got here.”
Ang’s arms tightened around me. He always knew when not to say anything.
* * *
Life went on. Just quieter. Especially in our — my rooms. I took to eating in the canteen more. Only that had the downside of meaning I saw and heard how everyone else was continuing with life as usual. Only my life was unusual. I had no one to care for. That felt like a first.
I came off shift and headed to my rooms. Cooking was a quiet affair, and it was only as I was serving the rice that I realised that I had made enough for two.
The knock at the door was a surprise. I called for my visitor to come in as I returned the pot to beside the stove. Ang Shi stepped in.
“Have you eaten?” I asked.
The question seemed to catch him off guard. “I have not.”
“Then would you like to join me for chilli and rice?” I asked. “It seems I can’t get used to cooking for one.”
He very nearly smiled. “I should like that.”
I noticed he was wearing the jeans again. After two years, they had softened and moulded to his form. They looked even better. I swallowed as I smiled and served the second helping. It was nice. Sitting at the table, just the two of us, talking.
He was my commanding officer, but he had become my best friend. He had become …
“Sullivan?” Ang said.
I looked at him, at my fork half raised to my open mouth. I closed my mouth and put the fork down.
“Is something wrong?” he asked.
“Not wrong, no.” I shook my head. “I am just stupid and only now am I seeing the truth of things.”
Ang nearly frowned, but it was the lack of such expression that had left his skin so unlined. “What truth would that be?”
“That somewhere along the line you became Fin’s second parent.”
Ang’s gaze fell to the table. “I never sought to take anything away from you.”
It was automatic for me to reach out and cover his hand with mine. “No, I know that.” The back of his hand was smooth and invited the way my thumb moved over it. “I know I was something of an arsehole to you. Many times.”
“You sought only o protect your son.”
“True, but now I wonder if you weren’t right and that I was protecting him too much. You gave him the things I couldn’t, the training, the recognition of growth.”
“I gave him what I thought he needed. A second ear. Someone he could talk to when he couldn’t talk to you. Not,” he rushed to assure me, “because he couldn’t talk to you, but there are times when we all need discussions outside of our own small family unit.”
“Well at least I got to have that right of passage for all fathers and the excruciating discussion of puberty and sex.”
Ang laughed at that. “Yes. And apologies, but Fin told me of it. He found it every bit as difficult. Apparently, sharing memories of his mother were not the way to go.”
“What would you have said?”
“I do not know, I never had to have that discussion.”
“He didn’t ask you about it then?” That was a relief.
“Of course he did,” Ang pulled that rug from beneath my feet. “He had many questions. But I was honest with him that I couldn’t tell him anything as I have never lain with a woman. It just wasn’t my nature. Something I recognised at a very young age.”
I patted his hand. “Thank you.” Then I pulled away and took another bite of my dinner.
As a younger man, I had found both men and women attractive.
Having spent my life in male-dominated households, having attended a boys-only school, of course I had tales of kissing other boys, and more, but the truth of it was that I had always been attracted to women as well. Mostly Sasha.
“Did he ask you about men being with men?” I couldn’t look at Ang as I asked the question.
“Yes, he did.”
I swallowed. “And?”
“And I told him that we fall in love with a person. Yes, the way they look will be the first attraction, but it is the person, the way they think, the way they act, that is what we fall in love with. And that is not necessarily dependent on gender. I told him that the most important thing to remember was to fall in love before falling into bed with anyone.”
“Good advice.”
“Sully?” His soft call brought my head up to him. “Whatever Fin chooses to do with his love and with his life, I know you will always love him for being the man he is. And so will I.”
I nodded again. Only I wasn’t sure I was talking about Fin any more. I remembered a conversation a long time ago with Fenwick. He asked me to describe my perfect partner. I had described Sasha. Only what I had said also described Ang. I was a fool indeed not to have acknowledged it sooner.
After dinner, we sat together talking. And there were many more evenings that we spent that way.
We talked, we played cards, we drank and ate and laughed together.
Yes, laughed. It was a surprise to me that Ang could laugh.
When he did those incredible eyes sparkled as if the lightning was in them. And something inside me melted.
Some nights we were quiet and sat reading together, swapping newssheets when we were finished. Some nights I worked on leather craft, or mending. Some nights he brought paperwork with him to complete. It was companionable, gentle. More welcome than ever I had expected. More like home.
* * *
I ate in the dining room. Well, picked. I had no appetite without Ang.
I had to eat there, it was my turn to cook again.
Ang did not join us. I heard from Gahunia that he was in his office, bogged down in paperwork for the quarterly reports.
I knew he had a lot to do, we’d worked on some of that together the previous night.
The other flight sergeants had made their reports as well.
It all had to be collated and rationalised, summarised.
As a result, I didn’t expect to see Ang that evening.
Though he did usually visit for dinner three times a week, usually including the fourth day because of his schedule.
Or sometimes, if he was busy, he come over after dinner.
By the Gods, my rooms felt empty. Every movement echoed. Every thought went unshared. The thought occurred to me to request a single room, but that felt like I’d be betraying Fin somehow, depriving him of his family home.