Chapter Four

Conyod was finishing his morning rounds as an intern in the hospital's psychiatric department and heading to the employee lounge for lunch. He'd drawn the Imdiko wing for his seasonal rotation and found it demanding despite being an Imdiko himself. His breed, natural caregivers and nurturers, tended to set aside their needs in deference to those of family and clanmates. They often ignored warning signs of emotional stress or mental illness until they reached severe crisis. Even on the brink of collapse, they usually continued to insist they were fine.

Conyod was coming from a session with such a patient, who'd attempted suicide a few weeks prior. "I was just overworked and tired. Exhaustion made my life seem worse than it was," he'd told Conyod and the presiding doctor who was monitoring the intern's work. "I'm better now. I'm ready to return to my clan."

"The situation at home hasn't changed," Conyod had pointed out. "You'll be returning to your clan's elderly parents who need care, your job, and your Dramok's nephew who lives with you. Until you have a plan in place to delegate duties and hire in-home assistance and respite care, you'll end up overworked again."

"Assistants will only add to my tasks since I'll have to check everything they do. I'm the only one who takes care of my family properly. They need me."

It was the mantra of too many Imdikos. The urge to take care of others and fix everyone's problems drove a number of them to therapy sooner or later…most of them kicking and screaming along the way.

Conyod wondered if he'd end up the same should he join a clan. He hoped knowing the danger signs would keep him out of trouble…but he knew one's own mental state was the hardest to diagnose.

The employee lounge was in sight when his personal com went off. He checked the frequency and managed to fend off a groan. A spike of anxiety stabbed his gut. He considered turning the com off.

There was no hope for it. If he didn't answer, she'd continue to com until she was frantic. Then she'd call his supervisor, demanding to know what tragedy had befallen Conyod to keep him from responding.

He diverted to an empty patient room so he could deal with her and possibly the rest of his parents privately. As soon as the door shut behind him, he clicked the continuously buzzing device. "Hello, my mother."

Lafec sighed loudly, as if she were ready to drop from relief. "Why did it take so long for you to answer, Conyod? Are you trying to give me a heart attack?"

"I'm at work. You know my schedule."

"Indeed, I do. It's your lunch break."

"My lunch break happens when I'm done treating the patient I have just before it. Trauma doesn't serve a clock."

He heard his impatience, but it was impossible to rein it in. How many times had they been through this?

Lafec wasn't a slave to her emotions…at least, not when it came to anything except Conyod. She was as tough as any rancher on the plain, fit and capable when it came to the family's kestarsh breeding business. Her firm hand had trained many an animal, no matter how skittish or ill-natured.

She dropped the fussiness over her surviving child abruptly, which told Conyod either Tuher or Sema were present and had quietly…and no doubt diplomatically…told her to ease up. "How are you? It's been a couple of weeks since we spoke."

"Well." He began to relax since there was no accusation in her voice.

"Busy?"

"Internship means long hours, unfortunately. But the experience is invaluable. I'm learning so much they can't cover in a lecture hall." He was able to warm up, thanks to his work being a safe subject.

"I always knew you'd do well. Soon you'll be running the hospital."

Her pride brought guilt that his first instinct was to keep her at a distance. He chuckled awkwardly. "I doubt it but thank you. How are you and my fathers? Is everyone all right?"

"We're well." Dramok Tuher's rough baritone was affectionate. "Training the new colts. We wish you were here to help."

A pang of homesickness struck Conyod. He loved training the kestarsh, which were so vital to ranch life. "I wish I were too. How's Dresk?"

"The love of your life is fine. He's full of himself these days, thanks to a dozen of his strong young offspring running around and impressing potential buyers," Imdiko Sema answered, laughter in his tone. No doubt he knew Conyod had been hard pressed not to ask about his favorite mount before everyone else. Calling Dresk the love of his life hadn't been far off the mark.

"When will you visit next?" Lafec asked.

"This rotation won't be up until summer. I'll have a week, then I start the next…maybe I can come for a couple of days." Reluctance and guilt for feeling unwilling to see his parents often churned in his stomach. He quickly changed the subject. "Is my father Vel there?"

"I am," came the gruff voice of the Nobek. "You sound good, Conyod. I hope you'll visit as soon as possible."

"Of course. Any other news?"

"We finally finished cleaning up after the big storm. The new stables are built, and we've almost finished repairing the old barn. I'm sure we'll be able to better withstand another sudden blowup, should it occur."

"We had a wild ronka herd tear through here a couple weeks ago," Sema joined in. "They knocked down a few poles of the corral. It brought down the containment field, but Dresk kept the mares close to the stables. None of them panicked."

"Dresk never gets flustered," Conyod boasted. He'd trained the champion himself. Doing so had helped him get over his dread of the mountains surrounding the ranch.

Except one.

"He doesn't like the ghost," Lafec muttered. "He makes a lot of noise and kicks the walls when it's around."

"Ghost?" Conyod's heart forgot to beat for a moment.

"There's no ghost," Vel snorted. "Just drunk ranch hands seeing things."

"Nevip doesn't drink, and he doesn't bother making up tall tales," Lafec said. "He saw the boy—"

"He got caught up in everyone else's hysteria and thought he saw something." Tuher's commanding tone quieted his clanmates. "We should let Conyod go to lunch. Next time, we'll call in the evening after you've hopefully finished for the day, my son."

"That would be great," Conyod said. "My love to you all."

They said their goodbyes and ended the com. Conyod had little time left to eat his lunch prior to his first afternoon session, but he lingered in the room as his thoughts swirled.

The ghost had returned? The small white figure that had haunted the plains and spooked the ranchers after his brother's death?

* * * *

Conyod, age 15

"Imdiko Conyod is suffering from extreme anxiety and depression, stemming from a home environment overwhelmed by guilt and fear," the psychologist sporting a waist-length black braid told the judge. "His natural need for independence at his age is being suffocated by a parent clan struggling to put the death of their elder son to rest for the benefit of the younger."

"How dare you say these things!" Lafec burst out. "You, who've never known the loss of a child! Put Hoslek to rest? We couldn't find his body to do so!"

The men of Clan Tuher, sitting across the polished conference table from Conyod in the closed hearing, looked as affronted. However, their lawyer gave Tuher a pleading look. Conyod's Dramok father, whom the boy looked uncannily similar to, took Lafec's hand to quiet her.

"A poor choice of words, Dr. Hupsan," he told the therapist who'd been in charge of evaluating Conyod. "I should hope a licensed psychologist would be better able to choose his words to a frightened and hurting family."

Hupsan's expression was compassionate as he addressed Conyod's parents. "Your loss has indeed been tremendous. However, Hoslek disappeared, and no doubt died, eight years ago."

"We're well aware when he was taken from us," Lafec fumed.

The therapist, his kind face lightly lined and hair showing skeins of gray, continued. "I understand your grief for a child taken from life too young. Nonetheless, such a long period of existing in a state of continual mourning has had damaging effects on Conyod. He's drastically underweight. He doesn't sleep more than four hours a night due to frequent nightmares."

"His brother died! He was the last to see him alive! Of course he's having difficulty getting over it."

Hupsan refused to deviate from what he felt was important. "Despite being cold, frightened, and hungry while on the run, Conyod described two weeks away from you, his parent clan, as quote: ‘the first time I've been able to breathe in forever.'"

Clan Tuher stared at Conyod in disbelieving horror. He glanced away, unable to stand the anguish he'd stamped on their faces. The sense he'd betrayed them was choking.

His gaze slid to the man standing at the far end of the room. Nobek Sletran had agreed to his request to remain on hand as emotional support following his testimony on how he'd come upon Conyod fending off the young bullies. Though he did nothing but watch Conyod as the proceedings unfolded, his calm and steady presence was a lifeline. The sense of security and safety he'd given the young Imdiko remained in force. Conyod clung desperately to the image of Sletran as his savior.

The Nobek met his glance and dipped the slightest of nods. It's okay. You've got this.

The child protection agent who'd brought charges against Clan Tuher motioned to another psychologist. Dr. Alat had interviewed Conyod's parents in preparation for the hearing. He stood as Hupsan sank to his chair. Older than Hupsan, his hair was silver shot with white.

"Honorable Judge, Clan Tuher is understandably devastated by the loss of their eldest son. They've found no release from cataclysmic grief in the years since Hoslek's disappearance. Feelings of tremendous guilt, rather than being dealt with in a healthy manner, have been channeled into an overprotectiveness toward their younger son, Conyod.

"By their own admission, this fifteen-year-old youth is subjected to their constant supervision. He's unable to go on outings among friends his age unless a parent accompanies him…indeed, Conyod has few friends left due to the nature of his parents' overzealous protection."

Lafec's defensive anger visibly drained, leaving her expression devastated. She began to cry.

"No one in this family has sought grief counseling in the aftermath of Hoslek's death. It's resulted in an unhealthy home environment for all concerned. While I have no doubt Clan Tuher holds Conyod's wellbeing in highest regard…which is obvious from their strict observation of his every move for the last eight years…his physical and mental health is deteriorating in their care.

"It is this independent psychologist's opinion Imdiko Conyod should be removed from the home, at least temporarily."

Lafec and Conyod's Imdiko father Sema both cried out. Vel growled. Tuher sat frozen, his eyes wide.

For his part, Conyod felt lightheaded. He seemed to float from his body to watch the proceedings from afar.

"My recommendation is for Clan Tuher to enter grief and parental counseling. Depending on Dr. Hupsan's recommendations for Conyod, Clan Tuher should be denied custody until they have completed therapy and demonstrated they can provide a stable and supportive environment for their son."

Alat resumed his seat. Conyod's Nobek father half-rose, his enraged gaze skewering the therapist. Tuher grabbed Vel's arm. Shaking, he eased down.

The judge, his broad, impassive features patient as he waited for emotions to be brought under control, finally deemed they were ready to continue. "Dr. Hupsan, your recommendations for Imdiko Conyod?"

Hupsan stood. "Honorable Judge, it's my opinion Conyod would benefit from inpatient residence where he can receive daily counseling. The facility I work in specializes in Imdiko youth. As I'm now familiar with his case, I'd personally work on his rehabilitation."

"The end result being?"

"Grief and trauma counseling will help him gain perspective on his brother's disappearance. Conyod was the last to see Hoslek alive and carries guilt he was unable to stop him from riding out to capture the escaped kestarsh. Treatment and teaching him coping skills for his anxiety and depression would also be an imperative…as well as giving him the opportunity to gain the independence skills he's been denied. Once Conyod has exhibited the ability to maintain emotional equilibrium and established himself in his own mind as a self-determining individual, he'll be allowed to rejoin his parent clan, provided they meet the requirements Dr. Alat has named."

Hupsan had already outlined his plan to Conyod, telling him therapy would only work if he were on board. The youth, his focus on escaping the smothering atmosphere of his parents' home, had agreed without really thinking it through.

Realization he'd be committed to a psychiatric facility and there was no clear date of departure shook him. What if Hupsan determined he was too damaged to release? What if his parents couldn't stop being overbearing?

Panic sent his heart racing. Tears stung his eyes. He looked frantically at Sletran again. Did the Nobek think he should go through with it? Would he save Conyod if it was a bad idea?

Sletran offered him a smile and a nod. It's okay, he mouthed. Breathe.

Conyod inhaled. His heart didn't return to normal, but it calmed enough for the instant of terror to quiet.

He still had the sense he was outside his body as the judge asked his parents' lawyer if he had anything to add. Something was said about Conyod's welfare being their sole concern, that they'd do better and go for family counseling if their son was returned to them immediately.

The judge ruled against Clan Tuher, opting for the psychologists' recommendations. Vel was warned when his fists repeatedly hammered the table. Court security guards came in to make sure he offered no threat to anyone. Lafec broke down completely. Sema held her, whispering in her ear as he shed silent tears. Tuher confronted his lawyer, demanding how strangers could take custody of his son simply because the boy had done what boys were known to do throughout history…run off for a few days on a high-spirited lark.

"I was hoping they'd allow you to say goodbye before the separation, but I fear it would cause more trouble in your parents' current state," Hupsan whispered to Conyod. "Let's go to another room. Perhaps in a couple of minutes, when they've calmed a little, we can manage a proper farewell until your first visit."

Conyod couldn't feel his legs, but he somehow managed to rise as the psychologist tugged him to his feet. The drama was far from finished, however. When he realized Conyod was leaving, Vel roared, "You can't take my son from me!" and raced around the table. The court guards rushed after him, but it was clear the Nobek would reach Conyod before they could stop him.

Sletran was abruptly there, standing between Vel and Conyod. "Go quickly," he told Hupsan. An instant later, he and the irate father were nose to nose.

Hupsan shoved Conyod through the door as shouts filled the air. It closed behind them, cutting the mayhem off.

"In here," Hupsan said, approaching a door directly across the hall from the hearing room.

It was another hearing room, identical to that which Conyod had just left, minus the scattered computers on the conference table. The window vids were blank, whereas in the other room, a tranquil view of ronkas grazing on the plains had been depicted.

"Sit down, Conyod," Hupsan invited in his gentle tone. He pulled a hover chair from the table for the teen.

Conyod fell in it rather than sitting, his nerveless legs done supporting him. He stared at the therapist, the strange dislocation in his head dissipating.

"I'm sorry it became so emotional in there," Hupsan began. "You did well considering—"

Conyod's harsh, braying sobs cut him off. The youth folded his arms on the table's surface and burrowed his face in them as overwhelming fear and grief took hold.

He had no idea how long he sat there and cried. Long enough to visualize his mother's and Imdiko father's tearstained faces in his mind's eye. His Dramok father's shattered expression as disbelief gave way to the realization Conyod wasn't coming home. And over and over, his Nobek father's infuriated, despairing yells as he reached vainly for his surviving child.

Conyod had destroyed his family, who'd only wished to protect him from the same end Hoslek had suffered. Their agony was his fault.

He slowly became aware of a hand rubbing slow circles on his back, offering comfort. Of two voices conversing.

"…I'm sorry Nobek Vel can't be trusted to speak to the boy and say goodbye." Hupsan, a few feet to the right.

"He's upset, which is understandable. I'd be tempted to say they love Conyod too much, but such a notion is ridiculous." It was Sletran standing behind him, offering what consolation he could.

"No, you can't love your children too much. It's only problematic when love turns into an obsessive effort to guard them from the slightest hint of trouble. Dr. Alat said in this case it's particularly acute where the Nobek and Matara are concerned."

"I feel for them. It's a shame their grief has caused so much damage."

"Indeed. He's quieting. Conyod, are you calming down?"

Sletran's warm breath and voice were close to Conyod's ear. "Hey, buddy. When you feel up to it, your mother and a couple of your fathers want to speak to you before you go."

Conyod rubbed his eyes on his forearms. Sletran had heard him bawling and would see his reddened eyes, but he didn't have to show him his childish tears. When he'd brought himself under control, he met the Nobek's gaze.

Despite the ache in his chest, pleasure shivered through him at Sletran's compassionate regard. "I made such a mess of everything."

"You did what you had to in order to survive. There's no shame in it, Conyod. Your parent clan needed a wakeup call. You may not believe it right now, but life will get a lot better. It may take a few weeks, but you're on your way."

Conyod sat up, his gaze never wavering from his hero. "Do you really think so?"

"Absolutely. Hey, Dr. Hupsan says I can be on your visitor's list. I'm stationed close to where you'll be staying. What do you think of me stopping by every couple of weeks, maybe teach you some defensive skills? Hopefully, you won't have to fight off jerks from training camps again, but it's never a bad thing to be able to fight back."

He'd get to see Sletran again? A spark of brightness woke in the dark threatening to eclipse him. "Yeah. I'd like that a lot."

"Then we'll do it." Sletran grinned.

Conyod wished he could fling his arms around the Nobek. I love him.