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Nikolas faced off against the three of them. He was attempting to press his bleeding arm to his side as he moved the knife from one to the other of the menacing figures.
Ben straightened.
Radulf paused in his approach.
PB held his ground.
“What now, Benjamin? There’s no coming back for us from this. You know that.”
Ben started to shiver, deep body shakes, more from shock than cold and which would, he knew, pass, along with the pain. The impact of those words would never leave him though.
He blinked.
Nikolas had said those words to him and yet he would not use his knife to gain the freedom he appeared so desperately to want.
Ben wasn’t blessed with the kind of brain that made great leaps of understanding. He’d never needed to be more than he was since meeting this maddening man, who despite lovingly deriding him for being stupid, made very little effort to change that state of affairs. But now he had something of an epiphany. It was instant and rocked him back on his heels.
What Nikolas had just said was entirely uncharacteristic.
For the first time in their relationship, Nikolas wasn’t being…well, Nikolas.
Sure, he flipped personalities like a man changing socks, but throughout all his exasperating alterations, he stayed the same, his default setting. It was a neat trick Ben had admired for years.
But this was entirely different. Here was a man he didn’t recognise and couldn’t anticipate. But rather than terrifying him or leaving him desolate, Ben could have shouted with relief, could have gone to this stranger and hugged him, for he now saw what had been nagging him all along about the whole situation, what had made him stay, trudging along behind in silence throughout the whole dispiriting day.
Despite appearances, Nikolas wasn’t leaving him.
Nikolas couldn’t leave anyone, because Nikolas was entirely lost.
It was a completely different situation.
The trouble with epiphanies though was what did you do with them when you had them?
Ben shrugged inwardly. He’d told Martin once: when you’re lost in the army you stop, make a brew and take your bearing again.
Nikolas was lost, buthedefinitely wasn’t. He was very, very sure where he was—by Nikolas’s side for life.
Very carefully, therefore, he lowered his knife and squatted down, wiping the sweat which had formed on his brow on the back of his arm.
“All right. Tell me, what do you want, Nikolas?”
“Aleksey. I have always been Aleksey. It’s not just aname; can’t you see that?”
“Okay, I’m sorry. I’ll try. What do want,Aleksey?”
Nikolas flicked him a look which broke Ben’s heart. It was admonishment and amusement both for the slightly derisive way he’d used the name.
He repeated, “Aleksey,” with more genuineness and saw Nikolas nod in acceptance of the effort being made.
“I want—need some space to find out who I am, Ben. I can’t say it any simpler than that.”
Ben rose from his squat, indicated to the rucksacks and the rocks, and Nikolas got the message.
They settled down, both intent on lighting the small stove, finding some supplies, not catching the other’s eye. Ben was aware that despite sitting with their backs to familiar granite, they were on very fragile ground with this truce. When they both had tea, Nikolas rather petulantly examining his cut, Ben began, “You have no money with you. No phone. What the hell are you going to do?”
“I don’t know. I’ll accept a lift, I suppose. Go where the universe takes me for once. I need to find out who I am. I’ve never given myself the chance to do that before.”
Ben swirled the liquid in the tin mug, mulling this over.
