Staying Power ~~~ Freely Given Ann Somerville
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Staying Power ~~~ Freely Given Ann Somerville
This story is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locale or organizations is entirely coincidental. Staying Power Copyright © 2005 by Ann Somerville Freely Given Copyright © 2005 by Ann Somerville
All rights are reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews. For more information please visit my website at http://logophilos.net Smashwords Edition 1, February 2010 Smashwords Edition, License Notes This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person you share it with. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then you should return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author. Published by Ann Somerville
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Staying Power: 1 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ “Oy, Romi! I thought you’d be back yesterday!” Romi grinned as he dismounted. “We had a little problem. Sarte managed to blow himself up.” “Gods, again?” Eto came over and took his beast’s reins. Around him, the rest of the squad were dismounting too, and leading their mounts over to the stables. “Anyone hurt?” “No, but the beasts bolted and we spent the best part of a day catching the damn things up. The good news is that he thinks he knows what he did wrong this time.” “Oh, he thinks.” Eto’s scepticism was understandable. Sarte’s experiments were...erratic, to say the least. But he was the best weapon-maker in south Darshian, and the army was using many of his inventions, so the occasional dramatic failure was tolerated, so long as no one was seriously injured or killed. So far, he’d managed to avoid that. “What’s been happening?” Romi said, following Eto and his beast into the stables. “Nothing much. The new recruits have started their training, and there was mail in from Urshek. Oh, and Daiso dropped over, left you a note.” “Daiso?” Romi stopped and looked at his corporal in surprise. “Why would he leave me a note? Is he going away? I was planning to go over to see him as soon as we stood down.” “Don’t know. It’s in your room.” Eto was already unsaddling the beast. Romi took his pack off, and went to set it aside so he could help brush the animal down and water it, but Eto waved him away. “Go wash, unpack. Fancy a beer later?” “Stupid question, corporal. Give me an hour or so. I need to report to Captain Wilsu.” Eto nodded. Romi checked that his men had things under control, knew what to do with the extra supplies they’d brought back and were properly storing equipment and tools, then shouldered his pack and headed across the exercise yard towards the barracks. Why was Daiso leaving him notes all of a sudden? He hoped his lover wasn’t going out of town for some reason, because Romi badly missed him after three weeks in the field. It was probably an invitation to a family event or some such. Smiling to himself over just how he planned to celebrate his return with Daiso, he opened the door to his small room and dumped the pack on the floor. He would have to do laundry the next morning, but not tonight. Tonight was report, bath, beer, and then Daiso when he finished up at the grain mill. They were stood down now for three days, so Romi would try and persuade his lover to take a half-day, even a whole day, off with him. They hadn’t done that in such a long time.
The note was sealed, which struck him as odd. He broke the wax, trying to remember if he’d ever even seen Daiso’s handwriting before. He was still thinking about that as his eyes began to scan the words, so it was a moment or two before their actual meaning sank in. It was like the feeling when someone fired an arrow at you, and you knew you had no chance of it missing. That sense that your life was about to change forever, and there was nothing you could do about it. He crushed the paper tight in his fist. No wonder Daiso had left a note. Far easier to impart bad news that way. Far easier not to face a trained soldier who could wring your lying, deceitful neck with one hand, or to have to explain your choices which made a mockery of the joy someone had felt just a few seconds before at the thought of being with you. He shoved the note into his pocket, and stalked out of the room to find his captain and make a brief, clipped report that conveyed none of the drama or humour that had been a feature of the latest field exercises, while giving the barest facts—which men had performed well or badly, which weapons had passed their tests, and how many men had been injured (one, slightly), beasts lost (none) and supplies wasted (none, and they’d come back with more meat than they’d taken). The captain expressed satisfaction at a job well done. Romi saluted, turned on his heel and went in search of a harmless way of working off his anger. He didn’t think alcohol on top of a bitter taste of betrayal would be a good idea. The workout hall was empty except for a couple of soldiers practicing vaults over to the side. He headed for the padded pole. He took off his boots, the only concession to a proper exercise regime he was prepared to make right now, then flew at the pole, attacking it with hard, vicious blows of hands and feet, launching flying kicks, and propelling himself back from it, welcoming the pain of impact as a distraction from that in his heart. It wasn’t that he imagined kicking Daiso. He was kicking himself. He’d been so stupid. He’d been caught before, so why had he made the mistake of giving his heart to a normal again? “Whoa, Romi! Hold for a minute, will you?” Romi aborted the punch he was about to throw, and dropped his hands. He made himself smile as he turned to face Eto. Eto, of course, was understandably confused as to why his lieutenant wasn’t off enjoying a nice hot bath, or looking for a welcome mug of beer. “Fancy a spar, Eto?” His friend blinked. “Now?” “Why not? I want to burn off some excess energy.” “You’ve got energy to spare after a three week exercise? Gods, Romi, you’re not human.” Romi bared teeth at that remark, and if Eto thought he was smiling, that was up to him. “Staves, how about that?” “All right, but mind my damn hands.” “Glove up, then.”
“You too. I’m not fighting an ungloved man.” Romi nearly asked what did it matter since he wasn’t human, but choked off what he knew was a petty and undeserved remark. Eto tossed him the sparring gloves, things Romi would normally not use given his preference, but it was correct practice to wear them in training, and he was in barracks. He didn’t want to earn either of them a demerit just because he was in a temper. “You should be in a workout tunic,” Eto reminded him, handing him a staff. “Look, do you want to spar or cite regulations, Eto? My uniform’s fine.” Eto shrugged, clearly not wanting to argue. Eto knew his moods well enough by now, at least. Romi assumed the standard defence position. “Begin.” It was fast and dirty, but he tried very hard not to inflict his temper-fuelled aggression on his friend, and to keep control of his moves as a good soldier should whatever the provocation. Still, after less time than he would have expected, Eto backed away. “Gods, Romi, go dunk your head or something.” Romi forced himself to stop, and to get his breathing back under control. “Did I hurt you?” “No, but I’m not going to let you get to that point. What’s wrong? You were fine a few minutes ago. Did Wilsu say something?” “It’s nothing. But you’re right. I shouldn’t be sparring when I’m like this.” He made himself smile. “I’ll get that bath, I think, but then I need to go see Daiso. I’ll find you tomorrow for the beer.” Eto frowned. “All right. If you want to...talk or something, I’ll be around.” Romi aimed an affectionate cuff at his friend’s head. “Don’t worry about me. See you later.” “Lieutenant?” Romi turned towards the newcomer. “Yes...Kev, isn’t it?” “Yes, sir. Colonel Ajil would like to see you in his office as soon as you’re free.” Romi looked down at his travel-stained and now freshly sweaty uniform, and weighed up whether his superior was more likely to be offended by his rough appearance or a delay. “Thanks, Kev, I’ll go over there now.” He tossed his staff to Eto, then did the same with his stripped off gloves, waving to the two soldiers as he walked out into the yard again. He was kept waiting just a moment or two, then admitted to the colonel’s office. He saluted his superior smartly. “Lieutenant Romi as requested, sir.” The colonel indicated a chair and then sat down behind his desk. “Thank you, Romi, please take a seat. Captain Wilsu said you were back. I understand things went relatively smoothly?” “Yes, sir. Relatively,” he added. The colonel smiled. “Ah yes, Sarte’s little toys. Still, spirit of scientific investigation and all that. Speaking of which, that’s what I wanted to speak to you about. We’ve had a request for volunteers from the Rulers in Urshek.” Romi raised his eyebrows in surprise, but said nothing. “Yes, it seems the
academy and the Rulers in the north are collaborating with ours here and are putting together an expedition to examine the plant and mineral wealth of Andon. All the military establishments throughout Darshian have been asked to put forward names of any personnel interested and qualified to participate. It’s a major undertaking and they have very particular requirements, hence the nationwide call. You’d be expected to be in the field for the best part of a year.” “Yes, sir. What requirements?” “Fluency in Andonese for a start, and since you’re without doubt our best speaker here, your name was naturally at the front of my mind. However, they also want someone familiar with Andon, experienced in field missions, preferably with some scientific or medical training. I know you don’t have the last, but you did accompany the army geologists last year to the Treyk Range. If you’re interested, I would have thought that should count for something.” “Possibly.” Romi was already intrigued. He had spent eight months in Tsikiugui as part of an exchange with the Andonese military, and liked the people and the country very much. “I’m just surprised this hasn’t been done before.” The colonel nodded. “Well, that’s because of the Prijian conflict. I understand the plans for this were drawn up a good four years ago. If things were still boiling over in Kuprij, I daresay they wouldn’t want to divert our people for this, but since peace has been restored, our Rulers are very keen to advance the mission for its own sake, and promote closer ties between the three governments.” He sat back and steepled his hands. “I can let you look at the specifications. You don’t have to decide now.” “I’d like to do it, sir.” “Just like that? Don’t you want to know more about it? It’s a long time away from base. What about your family?” Romi suppressed a grimace. “My family lives near Ai-Vinri, sir, and I have no other ties. I’ve always wanted to return to Andon, so if I’m suitable, I’d like to go.” Colonel Ajil grunted in apparent approval. “Very well. Let me contact the people in Urshek arranging it. They want to leave for Darshek soon with the prospective personnel, but the Darshek side will make the final decision since they’re putting it all together. There’s a special mission allowance and extra leave—if you’re rejected, you’ll get some of that for your trouble. I know you’re stood down, but you’d need to depart soon.” Romi made a dismissive gesture. “It doesn’t matter, sir. I have no plans.” At least, not any more. “As you wish. I won’t get an answer until tomorrow morning. You’ve time to think about it—it’s purely voluntary, you do understand that?” “Yes, sir, but I’d still like to go.” “Very well. Assume you’ll be going, and come back to my office tomorrow for confirmation and your orders. I’ll speak to Captain Wilsu, but there won’t be a problem releasing you. Unfortunately you appear to be the only suitable candidate from these barracks, so it would reflect well on us if you were
accepted. The other personnel will be mustered in Urshek on the fifteenth day of this month. You can leave any time that suits you, provided you’re there by then.” He handed a letter over to Romi. “Have a read of that, bring it back tomorrow.” “Thank you, sir. Are the researchers from the south or the north?” “Both, so I understand. They’re hoping for army geologists, but the naturalists are from the southern and northern academies. I’ll find out if you need to know.” “It doesn’t matter—I was just curious. And it’s to be a civilian mission?” “The scientific planning is under civilian control. Logistics and security will be military. I believe a final decision as to who has overall authority will be made by that Prijian chap they have as a Ruler in the north. He’s ex-military, so he’ll understand the problem.” The northerners had another former officer as a Ruler as well, so despite the potential difficulty a jointly run mission might cause, Romi thought it was likely the thing would be better handled than it appeared on the face of it. “Yes, sir. Was that all?” “Yes. Now I suggest you make yourself presentable and go out and enjoy yourself. If you end up in Andon, you’ll be glad of all the baths you had now.” Romi stood and saluted again. He hoped he would be acceptable for this mission. He felt the sudden need to get away from Temshek, and this would give him that, as well as time to mend a battered heart, and a valuable experience to further his promotion prospects. At least his career didn’t depend on his fertility. He decided not to waste time on a proper bath, just washing himself thoroughly and changing into clean civilian clothes, before heading into Temshek town to wait. Other members of his squad were on their way too, happy grins showing their anticipation of a good night out after a hard three weeks. Normally, Romi would have been glad to be with them, but for now, he had other things to deal with. He walked down to the grain mill and waited. It wouldn’t be long now—the mill’s sails were already being set into their overnight resting position, and the workers were leaving for the evening. At last, he saw his man. “Hello, Daiso.” He got a slight satisfaction from the way his lover—his former lover—nearly jumped out of his skin, before turning with a forced-looking smile to where he was leaning against the wall of the mill. “Romi! Back already?” “I was due back yesterday, as you knew perfectly well. Is that why you made sure to leave your lovely little note for me three days ago?” He threw the crumpled up paper at Daiso. “I thought you had more style than that, Dai. What’s the matter, are you so ashamed of her that you didn’t want to tell me to my face?” Daiso grimaced. “No, I’m not ashamed, I just didn’t want a scene. Like the one you’re making right now,” he muttered, walking away, and forcing Romi to follow him if he wanted to continue the conversation. They walked in silence down to the riverbank, a place where they had spent many a fine
summer evening, just sitting and talking, swimming when it was hot, lying on the grass afterwards and holding each other. Never again, Romi thought angrily, already grieving for the irretrievable loss. Daiso took up his usual position under the large, overhanging tree, and for a moment, it seemed just like old times—but then Romi saw the note in Daiso’s hand. It would never be the same again. “Why? Why lie to me? If you loved another, you could have told me before this. I would never stand in the way of your happiness.” Daiso laughed a little. “Oh come on, don’t be dramatic. We’re just friends who sleep together. You know it was never more than that.” Romi clenched his fist, and stamped down hard on his temper. “No, I did not know that,” he said through gritted teeth. “Are you saying you felt nothing for me at all? The entire time we’ve been together, I was just amusement for you?” Daiso looked genuinely puzzled. “I just said you’re my friend, but you knew I wanted a family. At least if you’d paid any attention, you would have done,” he added with devastating accuracy. “But...we could have—” “What? Adopted? Don’t be silly. Beside, I love Catli. She’s already carrying our baby.” Romi felt like he’d been struck. “I see,” he said, his heart feeling cold and heavy in his chest. “So not only was I too blind to see that I was merely a way of passing the time, I was too stupid to realise you were going behind my back and sleeping with someone else. If you really believed I took things as casually as you, why did you hide her from me?” The suddenly shifty look in Daiso’s eyes confirmed his suspicion. “You knew, didn’t you? You knew how I felt and you still planned to betray me.” He pushed away from the tree and began to walk off, disgusted with himself and with his erstwhile lover. “Romi, wait!” “What else is there to say, Daiso? Good luck with your wedding, your wife and your child.” “Wait. Please, Romi.” With ill-concealed impatience, Romi let Daiso pull him to a stop with a hand on his arm. “I’m sorry. I really didn’t mean to hurt you. I thought you knew...I want a family. I want children. Everyone does.” “Yes, but some of us don’t have that option and never will. Does that make me unimportant to you?” “No, of course not. I still think of you as my best friend. I...I wanted you to come to my wedding, actually.” Romi stared in disbelief at Daiso’s hopeful expression. “I’m not going to be here,” he said coldly. “I’m going to Andon for a year.” “A year? Why?” “None of your business.” “Don’t be like that. It’s not like I don’t care about you at all—”
Romi cut him off. “I’m sorry, but I expect honesty from my friends and my lovers too.” Daiso looked down. “I’m sorry too,” he said quietly. “I wish...well, it’s too late for that. Be safe, Romi. I want you to be happy.” Romi paused, his anger abating a little, and not wanting this to end in an uncivilised way, since there was just no retrieving it. “That’s what I want for you too, Dai. I hope you and Catli find joy in your child.” “Thank you. I hope you find someone who can give you what you want one day. I’m sorry it wasn’t me. I really am.” Just then, with his eyes looking sad, and perhaps a little hopeful that things could be mended one day between them, Daiso looked as wonderful and kind and desirable as ever. Romi made himself stop wishing for what could never be. “Just forget it, Dai.” He walked off without looking back, wanting to hate Daiso and failing entirely. The heart had no logic about it, and if Daiso didn’t love him, then there was nothing Romi could do about it, except move on with his own life. Daiso had been right about one thing, though—he should have known how important having children was to his lover. Stupid, blind, deluded.... Of course Daiso wanted a family. Of course Romi wouldn’t be his partner for life. Romi was male, and worse than that, he was infertile. No one wanted an infertile partner. Lover, yes. Partner—no. He’d let himself be blinded because he loved Daiso, and now he had nothing, not even the friendship. Well, this had to be a lesson he learned properly this time. No more normal lovers. He couldn’t offer what they wanted. He was twenty-five, old enough to know better several times over. And now he did.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Staying Power: 2 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Karik jumped as a hand descended on his shoulder. “Careful, my dear boy. You’re easily spooked.” He grinned at his visitor as he took a seat next to him at the table. “Oh, Soza, I was just caught up in this paper by Semeke. Have you seen it?” “Master Jezinke told me about it this morning, yes. I was planning to read it later. But I’ve got news about the Andon mission—the army have managed to find us seven more potential recruits. They’ll all be here in four days.” Karik laid his pencil down. “Seven—that’s wonderful. Even if we have to send half away, with the personnel we can get in Darshek, and the people in Tsikiugui, that will be all we need. Do we know how good they are?” Soza reached into his pocket and drew out a piece of paper. “Let’s see—they’re all Army trained so far as the language is concerned. One spent nearly a year in Andon, two others have been there for a month only, but have other field experience. Three are medics, another is a surveyor, and the others have experience in or knowledge of the physical sciences. There’s one who’s got no scientific background but fills all the other criteria—he’s the one with the most time in Andon. So I’d say they’re about as good as we could hope for.” “The scientific background isn’t as important as the field knowledge,” Karik said. “I really feel this will be a success, Soza.” “Well, we hope. Quite a feather in our caps if it is.” Karik flushed. “I just want to see what’s up there. I’ve always wanted to explore Andon, and Kei’s certain we’ll find a good many useful plants.” “I’m sure he’s right. I know the panacea is out there, waiting to be found. All that we need is the will to find it.” “If anyone can, you can,” Karik said with feeling. Soza was the best plant taxonomist in Darshian, and he surely would be able to determine what was new and useful in the flora of Andon. He had no field experience, but Soza’s skill lay in distinguishing the subtle distinctions between very similar looking samples that might make the difference between a totally useless plant or mould, and the much-needed cure-all that was Soza’s life’s ambition to find. The discovery by Prijian lens makers of the very tiny organisms that lived on the surface of so many living things and in every drop of water, had set the scientific community alight, and new ideas about the origins of illness were proposed all the time now. Soza wasn’t alone in thinking that there was a single drug that would eradicate infections of
all kinds—it was currently the hot theory among healers, though uncle Kei was less convinced of it. Personally, Karik thought it was more important to just keep finding the new plants and drugs and investigating them, but so long as the research continued, the underlying theory was not so crucial. “Ah, well, we’ll see. Master Jezinke wanted to see you when you were free, but no hurry.” Karik nodded and stood, pushing Semeke’s paper over to Soza. “I’ll go up there now. Here, you may as well have a look at this. It’s fascinating, what he’s saying.” “So Jezinke told me, though I wish Semeke was a bit more assiduous in acknowledging other people’s contribution to his ideas,” Soza said, looking slightly peevish. “He spent quite a lot of time talking to me about this species distribution but he merely thanks me for assistance without explaining just how much I did for him. It doesn’t inspire confidence. I hope that’s not a habit you intend to follow, young Karik.” “No, Soza. I know I know nothing.” Soza smiled. “Oh, I wouldn’t say that. You’ve learned a good deal here in six months. If we had you another year, who knows, you might be master one day yourself.” “No thanks, I prefer being out in the field. Besides, everyone knows who’s the natural successor to Master Jezinke.” Soza looked pleased at what was only Karik’s honest opinion. “I’ll find you later in the dining hall, if you’re not busy.” “Of course not. It would be a pleasure, as always.” Karik bowed a little and then left. Soza always had time for him, which was amazing really considering he was just a student and Soza was one of the most senior researchers at the academy. Karik considered himself fortunate to have such a clever mentor, and had tried to learn all he could from him during his stay here. A stay which was coming to an end, however, and while he was excited and eager to begin the Andon mission, part of him was sorry to be leaving Urshek. Of course he was homesick for the north and his family, but Master Jezinke was such a brilliant man, and the scholarship to study with him had been a wonderful opportunity. He just hoped the Rulers in Darshek would consider it money well spent when he returned. He knocked and waited for Master Jezinke’s summons, then entered, making the bow with his arm crossed over his chest as was polite. The master repeated the gesture. “Ah, sit down, Karik. I didn’t mean you to rush up to see me.” “It’s all right, Master Jezinke, I’d finished what I was doing.” They were speaking Andonese, of course. Master Jezinke spoke Darshianese quite well, but there was no doubt he preferred his native tongue for conversation, and Karik wanted to practice as much as he could before they left. “What did you want to see me about?” “Well, these were just delivered and I wanted to have the pleasure of giving you them in person.” He handed over a small bundle of printed papers to Karik. As he recognised what it was, he smiled, and ran his fingers along the title at the top—Some notes on the herbaceous products of Gidei. He’d spent
three months in the southwestern plains just before coming to Urshek, and the master had urged him to write up his discoveries himself, instead of leaving it for one of the academicians to do it for him. “I thought you’d be pleased. I hoped they would come before you had to leave. Now you will be able to hand Master Kei copies of your first scientific paper in person, not to mention carrying them to Andon for their civic library. It’s excellent work, Karik. If you wanted, you could stay and do much more in the same line.” “Thank you, Master Jezinke. I just feel there’s more exploring I want to do before I get too old to manage it.” The master chuckled, stroking his long, straggling beard as he often did when he was amused. “You have many years before that happens, my boy, unlike some of us. I’d say I envied you going back to my homeland, but it’s not virtuous to lie. My bones appreciate the warmth of the south too much.” “I’m used to the cold, Master Jezinke. I like it.” “Oh, not like this, Karik. Spit and it’ll freeze in mid-air, at least in the far north in mid-winter, not that you’ll be there then, thank the merciful god. Soza tells me you’ve had a good response to your call for military assistance.” “Yes, it looks like. It will be up to Lord Arman and Master Kei to make the decision. And Soza, of course,” he added assiduously, since Soza was the scientific leader of this expedition. “Yes, wise heads, all three, and if it goes well, I hope more such expeditions will be carried out. Andon is a large and mysterious land, and its treasures are vast, though its people are few. The more we learn about it, the better, and since thanks to men like you, we now know so much about Darshian, it’s right that science turns its attention to the far reaches of Periter.” “Yes, agreed. My uncles were hoping you might come up at least as far as Darshek in advance of our departure.” “I confess I was sorely tempted, Karik, but there is so much to do here, there always is. There’s perhaps a chance of persuading them to come to Urshek.” Privately, Karik thought that was even more unlikely than Master Jezinke being able to find the time to travel north—now Kei had finally been made Master of the academy, he and Arman were both busier than ever. Still, Karik expressed polite agreement with the master’s wish. “Are there other things you wish me to take to Master Kei for you?” “Only my good wishes, my boy. I believe we both have all the books we could desire, and I’m up to date with papers. No, what I want to get my hands on is the collected material you’ll send back. I don’t think Soza can sleep for excitement, thinking about what he will be able to make of it all. He fancies he will make quite a name for himself with this, and I dare say he will, as will you.” “I don’t care about that, Master Jezinke. But the exploration will be wonderful.” Master Jezinke shook his head. “Ah, the enthusiasm of youth. Well, you’d better make the best of the time you have left to you. You’ll find a sad lack of libraries in the wilds of my country, I’m sorry to say.”
“I’m sure there will be other compensations, Master.” He bowed politely and left, clutching his paper close to him. It was only a minor monograph, but he was still pleased with it. It had been harder to write than he’d thought, needing to bear in mind the wider audience for which it was intended instead of it just being a report for Kei and the other researchers who knew him personally. Soza had declared it well done, and so had Master Jezinke. Karik hoped Kei would think so too. In two weeks, he’d find out for himself, and in another six, he would be in Andon for the first time. It would be, he knew full well, the adventure of a lifetime, and he could hardly wait to start on it.
~~~~~~~~ His official orders issued, and his travel allowance pocketed, Romi had been free to leave Temshek barracks the day after his return from the field and he’d departed as soon as he was released. It usually took two days to reach the capital travelling at best speed, but he chose to dawdle, not wanting to spend more time in Urshek than he had to since he found it rather charmless. At the same time, he wanted to get away from Daiso, and even the kind concern of friends like Eto. There was precious little solitude in the army and he wanted time to consider where his life was going, something he’d thought he had settled once and for all once he’d decided to join the army at seventeen, rejecting the future his brothers had chosen, working on the family farm. He’d longed to see what there was in the world, and the idea of working the same acres of land, seeing the same people every day for the rest of his life, had seemed like a living death. Joining the army had let him travel, given him opportunities to learn many new skills, to prove himself and had been a decision he’d never regretted. The army had been very good to him, though the world beyond the barracks had not been so kind. He spent the four days it took to reach Urshek, thinking hard about love and Daiso and what he wanted from his future. Children wouldn’t be part of it, however much it hurt bitterly to accept that. He’d never really thought he would have to give up on love too, but the more he thought, the more he had to accept that unpleasant truth as well. Gifted men and women were rare, and scattered widely across the population. The chances of finding another who was free and willing and attractive and attracted.... It was most likely hopeless. But better to accept that than to waste his affections on another like Daiso. The same thing had happened with Kera, three years ago—she’d set him aside to marry too. Every gifted person he’d ever met had similar tales to tell. One or two had been lucky enough to find a lover who would be faithful to them—most just survived on a diet of casual affairs and friends who they could sleep with from time to time. Romi thought he’d be one of the lucky ones, once he’d met Daiso. But no, he was just a stepping-stone to wedlock with another, fertile person. Well, no more. If he could not have what every normal person took for granted, he would not stoop to being second best, or mere practice, not for anyone. He had his pride, he had his career, and henceforth, he would fuck who he wanted where he wanted without conscience or commitment. He had
companions aplenty in the barracks. All he really needed from anyone else was sexual relief, and he’d rather pay for that than sell his dignity. With that resolution made, he headed to the port side of the city, Urshek-si, determined to find precisely that relief. Welcome houses were peculiar to Darshian, he’d discovered in his travels—a combination of a brothel and an inn, managed by the women (and one or two men) themselves, selling bed and board and comfort to sailors, traders and soldiers without family or lovers in the place where they broke their travels. They were far more common in the south than in the north, though Darshek had at least two welcome houses down by the docks. The Andonese had no long tradition of inns, and those they had were poor. Brothels were officially illegal in Tsikiugui, though they certainly existed, and Romi had heard they flourished in the northern capital of Visiqe, which was legendary for its decadence—at least by Andonese standards. The Prij had both brothels and inns, but apparently never thought to bring the two together, which was all of a piece with their rather odd and prudish attitude to sex in general. Personally, he found the welcome houses a very civilised institution for the single traveller, and since it looked like he was to remain such for the rest of his life, it was as well they existed for his convenience. It had been over a year since he’d last been in Urshek, and even longer since he’d availed himself of the welcome girls’ charms since, unlike Daiso, he believed in such old-fashioned ideas as fidelity. Now, there was no scruple stopping him. He wasn’t due to report for duty at the barracks until the next day, and if he wanted to spend his own coin on his own pleasure and lodging, the army didn’t care. So he stabled his beast at one of the smaller inns, and asked if Kori still had her rooms there. To his delight, she did, so he paid for the night’s accommodation, and went upstairs. She didn’t remember him at first, which hardly surprised him since it had been easily two years since he’d seen her. But when he reminded her that he’d been there before, and asked after her son, Miku, she clapped her hands with pleasure. “Oh, yes, I remember now. You’re a soldier, and you’d just got back from Andon.” He took her hands and kissed her cheek. “Yes, and I’m on my way back there for a few months, so I’m looking for a little fun and relaxation before I go.” She looked up at him and smiled. “I think we’ll be able to manage that. But first, a bath and a meal. You look in need of both.” And that was one of the things he liked most about Kori. She understood the importance of the simple comforts in life. Not that this was her only talent, he thought drowsily, lying with her in his arms, sated and relaxed. She wasn’t a beauty or a great intellect. But she was a kind woman and a generous lover, with simple, uncomplicated needs. Someone who would make a good partner for someone, and indeed she already had. Kori was a widow whose five-year-old son was downstairs with Kori’s mother right now. If she followed the pattern of most welcome girls, she would eventually find another husband or lover and leave the work, although one or two continued with their partner’s blessing. It was rare though—there
was no shame to being a welcome girl, but lovers traditionally didn’t like to share. Unless of course, they didn’t know they were doing so. Kori shifted in her sleep and muttered. Romi found he was holding her a little too tightly as his thoughts drifted, despite his best intentions, back to Daiso, and he let go, kissing her temple in apology though she hadn’t woken at all. Daiso was also kind and generous, but unlike Kori, he was also well read and had a sharp wit. Romi missed his conversation even more than he missed their lovemaking. But unlike Daiso, Kori had not an ounce of deceit about her. Perhaps he should offer to marry her himself. An honest heart was to be prized, even if the conversation might be a little lacking at times. But even in the depths of his bitterness, he couldn’t deceive himself. He wanted more from life, and he wasn’t someone who could be happy with compromise. He wanted the best, or he wanted nothing. Kori was someone’s ideal wife or lover, but not his. He kissed her again, again in apology. He wished her well, and hoped she would remember him kindly. He couldn’t really offer more than that. He departed before she woke, as he usually did, leaving her a gift of scented oil he’d bought on the way to Urshek for just this purpose, and a small extra sum of money, with a note to say it was to buy her son something he might need. The stable lad yawned as he opened up and brought Romi’s beast to him. Romi gave him a tip for his trouble as well. Then he saddled up and rode the short distance to the barracks, where he presented his credentials to the quartermaster, who was rather put out by his late arrival. “Cutting it fine, aren’t you, lieutenant? The others have been here two days.” Romi shrugged. “I had leave, and I couldn’t see the point in sitting around in barracks. I’m here now—or have I missed something?” “No, not really. The fellow from the academy is coming here this afternoon to give the lot of you a briefing, then you’ll board the ship at sunset. The Darshek army are provisioning the expedition, I suppose your colonel told you that.” “Yes, he just said to take my normal kit.” The quartermaster nodded. “They seem very organised. Hardly like a civilian mission at all. Make yourself known to the duty sergeant and he’ll introduce you to the others.” Though it was early, the barracks were already busy, with squads performing drills, animals being led out of the stables as soldiers left for their morning patrols of the city, and those not on early duty, heading for their breakfast in the canteen. When Romi found the sergeant, the man told him his travelling companions were eating, and took him across to meet them. To his surprise, he recognised two of them instantly. “Kepi! Taz! Gods, it’s good to see you!” His friends jumped up and enthusiastically shook his hand. “Damn, Romi, I knew as soon as I heard about this, you’d be up for it,” Kepi said, clapping him on the shoulder. The sergeant, seeing he could make his own introductions, just told him to stay in the barracks. He’d be summoned to meet the scientists some time in the afternoon, though just when, he wasn’t sure. “The Rulers have sent around some books and papers for you all to read, should you want to bone up on Andon,” he said, then left them to it.
Romi excused himself only long enough to grab some tea, smoked meat and bread before coming back to the table where the other six prospective expeditioneers were eating. Kepi insisted he sat next to him. “I see you got your promotion—I knew you would. I really hoped you’d be in on this. “ “I’m just surprised to see you here, Kepi. Doesn’t Sera mind you being away so long again?” He felt a kick against his left boot, and glanced to the side to see Taz frowning. “Ah...something happened?” “Sera and I divorced,” Kepi said quietly, looking down at his mug. “She, uh, found someone else while I was in Utuk. She remarried last year and moved north with him.” “Damn, I’m sorry,” Romi said, placing a comforting hand on his friend’s shoulder. He’d not seen Kepi since they’d got back from Andon, but after Romi had come back from Utuk, Kepi’s unit had been sent to Kuplik, helping the Prij restore order after the assassination of their sovereign. It wasn’t uncommon for partners to stray while their lovers were in the field or on foreign duty, but it still hurt, as he knew only too well. “It happens,” Kepi said with a shrug. “But that answers your question—no one cares that I’m going off to Andon for a year. And you?” “Same here. No attachments, no commitments. Just how I want it.” Kepi grunted in agreement. “I’m looking forward to this, aren’t you? Taz, what about you?” “Yes, I am. Not sure about the civilian component, though.” One of the other soldiers, a corporal, spoke up. “I heard they were sending a Prij with us on this too.” “Really? From where?” “No idea—I just heard it in passing. We’ll find out more this afternoon. I’m Jou, by the way.” Introductions were quickly made, and Romi briefly explained his background to those men who didn’t know him, and the others did the same. It seemed a good team. Jou, her friend Sibu and a quiet fellow called Netu were all medics. Kepi was a weapon-maker, Taz and Reisa were both surveyors. The army was surrendering some very qualified people for this expedition. “I understand we still have to jump through the hoops in Darshek.” “It’s that Prijian Ruler—Lord Arman,” Taz said. “He’s a real perfectionist, I hear. My colonel said he hand-picked the north Darshian troops for this himself, and he’ll approve each of us personally.” “What about Lord Jiv? Is he involved?” Taz shook his head. “Not that I heard. Can’t say I’m all that keen to have a civilian making judgements about my ability.” Romi looked at him, astonished at his ignorance. “Taz, that man’s a former general in the Prijian army. Didn’t they teach you fellows any history when you were inducted?” Taz was just twenty, so the war was before his time, but gods, he’d have thought he’d have made some enquiry about who was running this.
“Not just any general either—the general,” Kepi added. “The one who led the Prijian campaign against the north in the war, and he was in charge of things here during the occupation for a while too. Not that this is a recommendation, necessarily. If he’s that rusty, maybe he’s not the best judge of things any more.” “He was good enough to advise the Andonese on that sea barrier that they built,” Romi said. “Don’t you remember them telling us about the Darshek rulers who came to help with that? Lord Arman was one of the Rulers involved.” Kepi looked impressed. “Ah, yes, I do recall that, now you mention it.” Taz just shrugged. “Oh, well, so long as they have properly trained and experienced people coming with us, I don’t suppose it matters who’s picking them. We’ll see soon enough.” The rest of the meal was spent exchanging gossip and speculating on exactly how long they would be away for. The plan was for them to travel north so they could explore the mountainous regions during the short summer, and be on their way back south before deep winter set in. Andon was a sparsely populated country, with vast, unexplored territories. Unlike the Darshian plains, the land was changeable and dangerous, with high mountain ranges which had permanent glaciers, unimaginably deep lakes as wide as small seas, many swift-flowing rivers, wild volcanic regions, and even a huge and uninhabited cold desert at its heart. Even a mission as ambitious as this one would barely scratch the surface of what Andon could offer. If it went well, Romi wouldn’t be at all surprised if more were planned. If it went badly...but then Romi hadn’t got to be a lieutenant by the age of twenty-four by dwelling on the negatives. He was glad to know Lord Arman was a perfectionist. Far better to have a man like that in charge than someone slapdash and without a care to the quality of the personnel involved. The Prij were prickly about honour and personal reputations. If Lord Arman bore responsibility for the success of this mission, then he’d do his utmost to make sure the chosen team reflected well on his abilities. Taz’s ignorance of Lord Arman’s unusual background surprised Romi, but if there was a failing in his military colleagues, it was a lack of curiosity and unwillingness to investigate outside their strict area of authority. If crime was involved, most soldiers he’d worked with were tireless in seeking out the facts and hunting down the perpetrator. But ask them about the history of their own country, let alone that of any others, and most of the common soldiers, at least, would look at him as if he’d grown horns. The officers were different, naturally, as they were obliged to study such things if they were to pass their exams. But even then, there was often very little interest in the subject itself, unless they had ambitions to rise through the ranks quickly, or to leave the army and join the public administration, as many did. Perhaps this mission would open up their minds. He was in favour of men under his charge thinking outside their usual parameters, and he did what he could to encourage imaginative and logical thinking. There was a limit to what he or anyone could achieve though—he wasn’t their teacher or their father. It was up to each soldier to improve his or herself.
Speaking of which, he wanted to look at the material the sergeant said he had in his office. He finished his tea, collected his things and stood. “I’m going to look at the books on Andon—anyone else interested?” He wasn’t surprised no one was. He told them he’d be in the officers’ recreation room, and left in search of the sergeant. There was a lot of material to read, but it was disappointingly uninformative. He’d already read the report by Lords Arman and Jiv on the Andonese coastal system, and there was nothing new in the rest of the papers on that. There were several books on Andonese history and government—likewise, he’d read them before, multiple times in fact. There was an up-to-date but hardly comprehensive map of the areas of Andon surveyed during the time he’d been up there and since, which was interesting, but again, not much use. The rest were highly technical papers on mineral, geological and plant products. He got on a little better with the papers on rocks and minerals, since he’d spent so much time talking to the geologists the previous year on the Treyk Range survey. But the plant papers left him bewildered. Part of it was that he couldn’t follow the technical naming system at all, and part of it was that the author of many of the papers, one Soza, had a very dry and esoteric style and a way of forming his arguments which Romi found simply incomprehensible. He put the papers down in disgust. This wouldn’t do—he needed to know how these people spoke to each other if he was to help them with their work. He collected the papers and books and returned them to the sergeant. “Any use?” “Not much. I need to see if there’s a reference on plant naming that I can look up quickly. Don’t want to let the civilians make me look like an idiot. Do you think the civic library would have such a thing?” “No idea, lieutenant. Are you proposing to leave the barracks? The captain wanted you lot to stick together so we didn’t have to roust you up to get on board ship.” “I’ll clear it with him but I only want to make a quick visit to the library this morning. It’s hours to noon, I won’t be long.” The sergeant looked dubious. “Well, if he clears it.... As for the book, I honestly have no idea. You know where the library is, over by the main square? You could ask. Can’t see why you’d bother, myself.” No, he probably couldn’t, and even Romi thought he was being rather zealous. But then, he had hours to kill and no better employment, so why not? The captain readily gave his agreement, since Romi was an officer and hardly likely to run off on an excursion to delay himself, and even went so far as to pen a short note requesting all assistance be given to him, as if he were on an official investigation—he had to wonder what on earth the librarians would think of that. Still, it would ensure cooperation if there was any hesitation in giving it, so Romi pocketed the note, saluted and went in search of enlightenment.
The main square was a good half mile from the barracks, and walking along the streets reminded Romi why he was glad to be stationed in provincial Temshek. Urshek sprawled, unbounded by sea and precious farmland as Darshek was, or mountains like Utuk. The inrush of refugees from the brutal Prijian uprising had led to new buildings to house them, he noted, and most looked cramped and hastily constructed. The roads were crowded with beasts, jesigs and vehicles of all kinds, and he was very grateful not to have to police this mess, nor the large and mixed population which filled the city to bursting point. Still, the large population meant there were many facilities denied him in Temshek, of which the library was one. It was a huge building, and already very busy with people of all kinds reading, asking for help or talking very quietly to each other, but he was still greeted politely and offered every assistance by the staff. Unfortunately, they had nothing for him. “The only place that would have something like that would be the academy,” he was told. “Since it’s official business, I’m sure they’d help you. It’s across the square—just ask for their library.” Feeling just a little foolish at persisting with this—it wasn’t as if he was wanted for his nonexistent scientific credentials—nonetheless, Romi thanked the librarian and went across to the academy, a large, dark stone building with a newish-looking dome adorning the roof. The harried clerk at the reception read the captain’s note impatiently, and waved him down a north corridor to find the library. “Ask, someone will help you,” she said, and then turned to deal with the next visitor. Romi left her to it. Like the civic library, this place was also bustling, and very confusingly laid out. Despite his excellent sense of direction in the field, he had none of the clues inside the building to discover where he was going, and so very quickly became lost. He saw a young Prij coming towards him. “Excuse me,” he asked in Prijian. “Could you tell me where the library is?” “Certainly. I’m on my way there myself, let me take you.” Romi had been going entirely the wrong way, so he turned and fell in behind the man who, he noted curiously, was wearing his hair Darshianese style. It wasn’t the first time he’d seen that in Prij living in Darshian, but it still looked odd. Since he also had a beard, which was uncommon even among the Prij, Romi wondered if it perhaps was just his way of expressing his individuality. Shame about the beard. It seemed to be masking a rather handsome face. “May I ask what you wish to find out? Perhaps I could help you.” “I’m looking for something simple, something for the lay person to read on how plant classification works.” His assistant stopped to look at him. “Why do you need something like that?” Something in the man’s green eyes seemed rather challenging, as if he would withdraw cooperation if Romi’s answer wasn’t good enough. “It’s official business,” he said stiffly. “I’m not at liberty to explain.”
“Very well.” The man began to walk on. “There isn’t actually a reference of that type which will explain it, but I can do my best, if you would like. We can use a map room to talk.” He was led to a set of heavy doors, and was immediately stunned by the huge interior and enormous numbers of books revealed when they were opened. His companion seemed completely at home and went quickly over to the librarian’s desk, presumably to explain his purpose. He told Romi to wait a moment while he collected some books, then asked him to follow him to a side room with large tables, and drawers set into a wall cupboard—for maps, Romi presumed. He asked Romi to sit, then took up a place next to him. “All right, let’s see if I can put this simply for you. The classification system only appears complicated, but it’s not really. The intention is to provide an accurate nomenclature that is accepted by all scientists across Periter—well, in effect, the three nations which use it. If we didn’t have it, then each country, each region, would use their own local name, and it would be hopelessly confusing. See this plant?” He opened one of the books and revealed a beautifully illustrated flower. “Perhaps you know the klek bush from here in the south?” Romi nodded—he’d seen it in gardens near Temshek. “Well, the Prij also have it, but they call it ‘sorus’. In the Welensi Islands, the natives call it ‘sikok’. You see how we might not realise we were dealing with the same plant, unless we saw it?” Romi nodded, and his companion continued. “So our scientists devised a system ten years ago which uses a trinomial nomenclature. All the botanists in Darshian, Kuprij and Andon use this now, so when we correspond and refer to Aci sorus Garok, we know in our heads that it refers to the klek, sorus and sikok plant. No room for confusion or error.” Romi held his hands up in confusion. “Aci what?” His companion smiled. “Sorry, I was just going to explain. The parts of the name refer to a hierarchy. The klek plant is part of a large group, I mean, related to other plants in the way that all the timkir trees are obviously related, though they differ slightly from area to area.” “Like breeds of jesig?” “Yes, like that, though it’s not by human intervention, of course. So Aci is the group name. Sorus is the particular name of this species. Garok refers to where it was first collected and from where it was described, though of course it occurs in many places—it’s just a further level of precision.” “How in hells do you remember all that?” “It’s just like any other language. It’s logical, it has a known structure, and it really is very useful. Now, does that give you enough for your purposes?” “Well, it’s a start. It’s a pity all scientists couldn’t be as clear as you—I was trying to follow some papers by someone called Soza and it was like trying to read a ball of tangled string.” His companion didn’t look at him as he pulled out another book. “Soza-gidu is one of our finest researchers. He’s used to dealing with people of a similar background and training. He doesn’t write for the layman.” “I didn’t mean any offence.”
“None taken,” he said coolly. “Now, this book here may illustrate what I was talking about....” For the next hour, Romi had the mysteries of plant classification patiently explained to him. By the end of it, he had a headache. Not that it was his young teacher’s fault—the man had a remarkably clear way of expressing himself. Romi found himself wondering what he did in the academy—he had the slight drawl of the Prijian upper class, but was dressed as simply as any Darshianese. With the braid and the beard, it made his appearance rather difficult to decode. He finally realised he had to stop. “I’m sorry, but I have to be back at my barracks by noon. Thank you for your assistance.” “You’re welcome. I hope your investigation is carried forward. I have to be going myself. Can you find your own way out?” Romi said he could, then stood and bowed formally as was expected in Prijian custom. His companion did the same and left. Only once the door had closed, did Romi realise he’d forgotten to ask the man’s name. Oh well, it was unlikely he would encounter him again. Romi was just glad he didn’t have to remember all this classification stuff for real—some of the rules seemed a bit on the petty side, though no doubt the scientists would say the same about Army regulations. Right now, he had to get a move on if he was not to abuse the captain’s trust in his reliability. But it had been a surprisingly interesting, if confusing, morning. His fellow soldiers had missed out on yet another opportunity to learn something new. Their loss.
~~~~~~~~ After lunch, Romi had another look at the papers, and found them much more comprehensible, though he still thought this Soza fellow wrote very clumsily. There seemed to be a lot more papers by him than were strictly necessary for the purpose, and if he really wasn’t writing for a lay audience, Romi couldn’t see any reason to provide such a mountain of specialist information. They weren’t much use to him, but he felt a little more confident he could hold his own in a conversation with the scientists, and he thanked his unnamed benefactor once more. If he’d had more time, he’d have made an effort to find out who he was and express his gratitude properly—perhaps on his return he would try to find him, though he may have gone by then. It was possible he was only visiting the academy, and if so, Romi would most likely never find him. He had just returned the books and papers to the sergeant when Kepi came looking for him and told him to come to the colonel’s briefing room, since the scientists were there to talk to them. They were the last ones to arrive, and Romi was about to take a seat at the end of the table when he jerked up in surprise. There was his mystery teacher, listening intently to a middle-aged Darshianese civilian with a heavily pitted face, a pile of books arrayed before them on the table. The man didn’t seem to have noticed him yet—what was he doing here?
But there was no time to ponder. The colonel came in, and everyone stood and saluted before sitting and giving him his attention. “Ah, welcome, gentlemen. I won’t waste time since we need to get you all onto the boat fairly soon. Let me introduce Soza of Urshek to you, from the academy. He’s the chief scientist on this expedition.” As he sat, the Darshianese civilian stood up. “Thank you, Colonel Kel,” he said with a bow. “I am Soza. This young man here is my assistant, Karik of Ai-Albon. We shall be directing the specimen collection and exploration on this mission.” Romi didn’t hear the rest of what he said, he was too busy glaring at his damn companion. ‘Karik of Ai-Albon’? That little shit—he’d known perfectly well Romi had thought him a Prij and had done nothing whatsoever to correct that impression. The man himself saw him staring, and started to smile, before he clearly realised Romi was none too pleased with him. His expression went blank, then he looked away, pretending to be absorbed in what his superior was saying. Romi realised they were being asked to introduce themselves, and collected himself just in time for his turn. He stood smartly to attention. “Lieutenant Romi of Temshek barracks,” he snapped, and sat again. Karik looked at him, blushed and looked away. Little shit. Romi didn’t care for games of that type in the least. Soza was speaking again. He had a far more pleasant manner in person than in print, though he liked the sound of his own voice, speaking for rather longer than was strictly necessary about things that, really, they would have several weeks to learn. After a few minutes, even the colonel’s pleasant smile looked forced, and his companions shifted in their seats. But at last the rambling discourse came to an end. “So there you have it, gentlemen. Any questions?” Romi put his hand up. “Ah, yes, Lieutenant...?” “Lieutenant Romi, sir. May I ask what experience you have?” Soza smiled happily as if he’d just been waiting for someone to ask. He rattled off a list of his achievements, all to do with plants he’d named, and drugs that had been derived from them, which wasn’t the experience Romi had been asking about. He waited politely until the other man came to a halt before asking, “That’s very interesting, sir, but what I really wanted to know about was the other expeditions you’ve been on.” “This is my first, what you might call, field exploration,” Soza said stiffly. “However, my assistant, Karik, has been in the field. Karik, would you like to describe your background to the lieutenant?” Karik nodded, and stood. “Yes. I studied at the academy in Darshek, then I spent some time collecting plants on Darshian plain and in the eastern hinterland. I was offered a scholarship to continue my studies into natural production here in Urshek, and I’ve been here for six months.” He gave a little bow, and sat down, looking at Romi as if daring him to challenge the facts of that dry recitation.
Romi was hardly encouraged by any of that, but didn’t want to say so in front of the colonel. The fact that the supposed leader of this mission had no field experience at all, and his assistant had very little, didn’t exactly give him confidence in either man. The colonel had had enough. “Right, men, if that’s all, our guests need to return to the academy. Lieutenant, as the senior soldier in the group, I want you to take charge and ensure you all get down to the docks in good time to board the Storm Wave at sunset—she departs with the tide, and if you’re not on board, you won’t be going on this mission. See the officers posted at the dock before you board.” “Yes, sir,” Romi said, snapping off a salute. The colonel returned it and left the room, as did the other men. Soza wanted a word with the colonel and hastened after him, leaving Karik behind to pick up the books. “Want a hand with those?” Karik seemed surprised at the offer, but then nodded. “If you wouldn’t mind.” Romi picked up a few of the heavy volumes, wondering exactly why Soza had decided to bring them all the way down here and not use them, and followed Karik out of the room and across the exercise yard towards a waiting calash. Karik stowed the books with great care in the vehicle and thanked him politely. As Romi saw Soza approaching from the other side of the yard, he asked Karik, “Why didn’t you tell me you spoke Darshianese?” Karik gave him a cool look. “You didn’t ask.” “But you knew damn well I thought you were Prijian!” Karik’s expression went blank. “I am Prijian. Excuse me, I must collect the other books we left with your sergeant.” And then, to Romi’s exasperation, he walked off. What did he mean, he was Prijian? If he was Prijian, why was Soza introducing him as being from a little village in the north? Why the braid and the perfect Darshianese? Little shit. “Ah, lieutenant, I see you’re getting acquainted with our rising star.” “Not exactly acquainted,” Romi muttered. “He doesn’t give much of himself, does he?” Soza found that amusing. “Well, you know, he’s got very little he needs to prove, not with his connections. He’s of noble Prijian blood, and is the favourite nephew of Lord Arman and Master Kei in Darshek.” He leaned toward Romi a little. “Of course, I say ‘nephew’ but rumour has it that the relationship with Lord Arman is what you might say, more paternal than avuncular,” he said with a knowing wink. Romi had no interest in gossip and couldn’t give a damn about Karik’s alleged connection with the pissing Prijian nobility. “Is that his excuse for being so mysterious?” “Is he mysterious? I’d not noticed. Of course, he and I are very close. Very close,” he added archly, then leered in quite a repulsive manner.
Suddenly realising what the man was implying, Romi moved back in disgust. So this Soza was taking his lover with him on this mission—Karik’s credentials were probably less important than his services in bed. The hair bracelet Romi had noticed on Karik’s wrist as he was packing the books was undoubtedly a gift from this oily bastard. “Congratulations,” he said coldly. “Thank you. I thought it best to let you know how things stood. I wouldn’t want any misunderstanding to occur.” It was clear from the intent way Soza stared at him, that Romi was being warned off. “Don’t worry, I’m not in the habit of getting into ‘misunderstandings’ with other people’s lovers. I just hope he knows what he’s doing because Andon’s no place for someone hoping to get by on ‘connections’. Excuse me, I must check my pack. I’ll see you on board.” Soza bowed politely—the man was like a Prij, he bowed so often—and then went to speak to the calash driver. Romi left him there, and wondered what in hells he’d got himself into.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Staying Power: 3 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Karik was still seething by the time he’d collected the academy property from the sergeant’s office and returned to the main yard. To think he’d been hoping to see that arrogant bastard again! He’d thought he was a good-looking, intelligent man with an unusual curiosity for a soldier, but it had turned out he was the same kind of narrow-minded idiot Karik had encountered so many times before. It wasn’t his fault the man hadn’t even stopped to ask if he spoke Darshianese. Karik just got tired of the confusion that resulted when he responded in another language than that used by the questioner. It happened so often that people thought he was Prijian, he never even thought about it any more. If someone spoke to him in Prijian, he responded that way—same if they used Andonese. He’d had a perfectly normal and friendly conversation with that stupid lieutenant, even with all his ‘official business’ nonsense, so why was the man jumping all over him now as if he had a right to know Karik’s background from the second he’d encountered him? Soza was waiting by the carriage. “Oh, you remembered, well done.” He saw where Karik’s glare was directed—towards where that enormous arse was talking to some of the other soldiers. “I see he’s ruffled your feathers. Not a good start, really. I didn’t like his attitude much.” “Nor I,” Karik muttered, getting into the calash after Soza. “Perhaps we should inform Colonel Kel that the lieutenant’s services won’t be needed. We have more people than we need, after all.” Karik’s head jerked up in surprise. It had been agreed that neither of them should make any judgement on the soldiers until Arman had a chance to look them over. “Isn’t he the one with the most experience in Andon? And he speaks fluent Andonese—I don’t think we can afford to let personalities come into it. If he’s the best man for the job, I don’t care if I like him or he likes me.” Soza laughed and leant forward to clap his hand on Karik’s shoulder. “Perhaps you’re right, but I wonder if he would be so logical. Somehow I suspect he’s of a rather narrow intellect—unimaginative. All right if he needs to deal with beasts or travelling, but you don’t need a clever mind for that.” Karik, whose own father dealt almost entirely in those matters and still managed to be one of the most broadly intelligent men he’d ever encountered, forbore from pointing out the two things were not mutually exclusive. The man himself was still talking to his colleagues, and totally ignoring Karik and Soza. Great arse. He hoped his uncle would find a good reason to turn him down. While Soza went to see Master Jezinke and report on their meeting, Karik went to where their stores were being readied for transport to the ship. There was a good deal to be taken, though nothing
like as much as there was before Karik had diffidently explained to Soza how very different it was working in the field, and that really, books would be a hindrance, not a help. There was still no getting away from the need for vast quantities of note books, ink, pencils, pens, labels, paper wallets for plant material, and many, many small cloth bags for seeds which was the one thing they had to bring back, if at all possible. Karik was still rather dismayed by the volume of it all— when the bags and wallets were full, they would take up even more room, although they were planning to send material back in stages which should ameliorate the problem. Since his mentor was unused to field work, it wasn’t unreasonable of him to take some of the comforts that Karik had long ago eschewed in favour of easy travel. His own personal gear was rather more modest, being just a single pack and a bedroll. When he had first set out collecting for Kei, both his father and Arman had given him useful advice on how to minimize the amount he had to hump from place to place, and how to travel in relative comfort while still keeping his belongings in a single pack. The flysheet he used for shelter from wind and rain was the only other thing he normally took, but on this trip he would have the luxury of a tent, one of the large ones used by the Andonese military. He couldn’t help feeling a little decadent for travelling so wastefully. But this mission was on such a large scale compared to his own little forays that perhaps such feelings were unnecessary. He couldn’t wait to get on with it. He wished he was on the ship and a-sail already—apart from anything else, it would be just nine days until he would see his parents again, and his uncles, and Reis and Seiki and Mila and Jes. Soza took longer than Karik was expecting—the drivers grumbling about there not being enough time to reach the ship if they didn’t hurry—but finally he came in, all smiles and apologies. “Sorry, the master wanted my advice. Are we all ready?” “Yes, we should really go.” “Fine. Then I’ll head straight down to the ship in the calash and speak to the captain and meet you there. Let’s hope our soldiers know where to go and are on time.” In Karik’s experience, punctuality was definitely not something one had to worry about with the army. Soza left him to it, and the two carts were quickly hitched. Karik rode down alongside them to the docks on a beast, and then watched as the carts were efficiently unloaded and the boxes and sacks carried up the gangplank. Soza, already on the boat, watched anxiously as the items were carried on board, and fussed about their disposal, wondering if things would be kept dry, or if they would be mixed up with other goods. Karik reassured him the stores would be fine and would arrive perfectly safely—the ship’s captain was a personal friend of his Pa’s and his vessel had been chosen for its reliability and excellent reputation. Soza gave him a rueful smile. “Forgive me, I can’t help but be anxious. It seems such an enormous thing we’re doing.” “It is, but it’s still something many people have done before us in different ways. It’ll be fine. Have you been shown our cabin?”
Soza’s expression darkened. “I have, and I’m not impressed. I was told we were to be given first class accommodation. What we have isn’t fit to keep an urs beast in. I’ve complained to the captain but he says there’s nothing better on board. Hardly what I call acceptable. If so many other people would not be inconvenienced, I would insist we remove ourselves and wait until a ship meeting our requirements was in dock.” “Oh, I’m sorry.” Karik was puzzled—with Captain Temu being his Pa’s friend, he was surprised he would pull a trick like this. “Can I see it?” “Follow me.” Karik did so, wondering what could have happened. Even a large ship of this size would usually only have one, at most two, first-rank passenger cabins, which were charged accordingly, but their passage had been booked some time ago, and Temu had been very grateful to get the business. If left to himself, Karik wouldn’t have bothered with a cabin, but someone of Soza’s importance, not to mention his inexperience, could not be expected to bunk with the soldiers in the hold. Had Temu mismanaged things and booked another passenger for the best cabin? It was possible, Karik supposed. When they got to the accommodation deck, Soza threw open the cabin door. “Do you see? How are the two of us supposed to sleep in this?” Karik blinked. He walked around the well appointed, neatly made cabin, sat on the comfortable bunk, and then looked up at his companion. “I don’t understand the problem, Soza.” “It’s minute! There’s no room to move, the beds are hard and narrow, and there’s just that one tiny window! Impossible conditions, impossible!” Karik bit his lip. “Um, actually...this is the nicest cabin I’ve ever seen. I think it’s probably finer than the captain’s.” Soza stopped pacing and stared. “You’re surely not serious. There’s barely room to turn around!” Karik really didn’t know what to say. Compared with living in a tent, this was luxury, and he’d travelled on enough ships now to know this was well above the normal standard. “There usually isn’t much space on a boat anyway. The captain hasn’t tried to cheat us, I assure you. If you want more room, I could bunk with the soldiers. It’s what I normally would do.” Soza wiped his brow, and then gave Karik a bright smile. “I’m revealing my lack of experience, aren’t I? I’m sorry, it was just nothing like what I was expecting.” Karik smiled back reassuringly. “That’s how I felt, the first time I was on a boat.” Although that cabin had been much smaller and far less nicely done out than this. Still, to the new traveller, he understood the surprise. “You get used to it, and really, the space is well thought out. You will find it’s much more comfortable than you imagine, and in rough weather, you’ll be glad the cabin isn’t bigger, and that the window can’t let in the rain more than it does.” Soza gulped. “It gets that bad?”
“It can do, though the route from here to Darshek is one of the safest in Periter, I’ve been told. Only very inexperienced captains or small and poorly constructed boats come to grief, and Captain Temu is a very good man, so my father says. My uncle...I mean, Lord Arman, also recommended him.” “Ah. Well, if his lordship is happy with him, then so shall I be. Well, we’re finally here,” he said with a grin. “Excited?” “Very. We’ve got hours before we sail though—if you wanted to go back on shore, there’s time.” “No, no, best get used to it. I’ll need your guidance, I’m afraid,” he added mournfully. “That won’t be a problem, Soza.” Much as Karik hoped, Soza’s annoyance quickly turned to fascination with the clever way shipbuilders dealt with the twin difficulties of lack of space and constant, often violent motion. In fact, by the time he was done, and had shown his mentor the galley and explained how food could be cooked in all but the very worst weather, Soza had declared himself very impressed. “It seems a very fine ship, just as you said. I gather not all are like this.” “No, this is a large, modern boat. I’ve travelled on much smaller ones, and one that was older, and less comfortable. We’ll do very well.” “Wonderful,” he said, clapping his hand on Karik’s shoulder. “Well, perhaps I’ll go down and read for a bit.” Karik thought he would let Soza get used to the cabin, and said he would see him later. Besides, he wanted to explore. After his first disastrous experience on a boat, he’d never expected to enjoy being on water again, but in fact he had come to like sailing, and to appreciate the skill of sailors and the fine thing that a good boat was to have under one’s feet. The fact he had excellent sea legs helped, of course. Poor Gyo had sworn never to set foot on a boat again so long as he lived, and Karik could hardly blame him—his two journeys had been marked by the most awful seasickness. Gyo would never make a good sailor no matter how much sedative he took to ease the illness. He went up on deck to walk around, fascinated as ever by the sailors as they prepared the ship to depart, and the activities on the dock as the rest of the stores were brought on board. Food and water were always the last things on and now crates of fowls, sacks of vegetables, beans and lem flour, and barrels of beer were shouldered and carried up the gangplank by wiry-muscled men. “Karik?” He turned, and smiled at Captain Temu, who came closer and shook his hand. “Thank you for having us on board, Temu.” “It’s a pleasure. I’m sorry your friend isn’t satisfied with the cabin—there’s really nothing more I can do, it’s the best we have on board.” Karik dismissed the apology with a wave of his hand. “I explained. He’s just never been on a ship before.”
“Ah, now I understand. But you’re going to Andon with someone that inexperienced? Is that wise?” Temu was only asking out of kind concern. “He’s a very clever man, and there will be plenty of us with enough experience to help him. It’ll be fine. Pa sends his regards, by the way.” “Good, good—will I be seeing him soon? It has to be eight, nine months since I did, I think. Yes, easily nine.” “He and Ma will be in Darshek when we dock. He said to tell you that he expects you to pay up on that bet.” Temu grinned. “I’ve got the beer all laid down for him. It’ll be good to see him. He doesn’t get to Darshek that often any more.” “Not since he took Gyo on, no. He keeps his hand in, though.” “I’m sure. Reji was never one for the quiet life. Well, I better make sure things are settling down— but you and your friend must have dinner with me in my cabin after we’re under way.” “It’d be a pleasure, thank you.” Karik watched the captain head towards the wheelhouse. Hearing someone mention his Pa made him homesick all over again. He’d spoken to his parents just two weeks before, but there was really nothing like seeing them in the flesh. He hoped Gyo would be coming up with them as well, though Pa hadn’t been sure when Karik had spoken to him. He watched the loading activity for another hour or so—the sun would be setting soon, and they’d sail about an hour after that. An odd noise caught his attention and as he glanced down at the docks, he realised it was a group of soldiers marching in time, led by his nemesis. He had to admit the man cut a fine figure in his uniform, marching proudly up to the watch station and disappearing briefly inside—to report as his colonel had ordered, Karik presumed. Moments later, the lieutenant re-emerged and then he and his men headed over to the gangplank to board. Karik decided to retreat—he really didn’t want to clash with lieutenant Romi again, not twice in one day. Shame, really—he was quite a splendid example of the male form. Karik decided not to waste another minute thinking about the man, and went down to find more intellectual company.
~~~~~~~~ It was with considerable regret that Karik discovered his mentor had a very fragile stomach. They’d not been under sail for more than two hours when Soza announced he felt queasy, and from the colour he was turning, Karik knew what to expect. Fortunately, he had, based on Kei’s advice and his own experiences, packed a generous supply of nerf leaf tea, and quickly brewed up a batch. Soza cared very little for the taste, but it did at least enable him to get a good night’s rest. However, the rolling
motion of the ship—actually rather gentle in Karik’s experience—wouldn’t stop until they got to Darshek, and Soza couldn’t tolerate it at all. Unfortunately, the nerf leaf tea revolted him, and he could only bear it with copious amounts of honey and tidbits of food to help it go down. His appetite was depressed anyway, so it was something of a struggle to find something from the galley that would tempt him. He was so miserable and helpless that Karik couldn’t begrudge the effort, and he spent the day keeping him company, and reassuring him that no, he really wasn’t going to die. Karik just hoped they didn’t hit any bad weather on the route. Over the next day, the wind strengthened and he noticed that there were fewer people about when he went to the galley for food or tea. When he ran into one of the soldiers coming to Darshek, the man confirmed several of their people were laid low with seasickness as well. When Karik learned they had no nerf leaf at all, he gladly supplied them, although he was annoyed at the lack of forethought. He knew the drug wasn’t much favoured by the army because there was a tendency for some soldiers to abuse it, but since the academy in Darshek had recommended the treatment in cases of motion sickness, he would have thought the southern army could have approved its use in such limited circumstances. His supply was more than enough to cope, fortunately. He could replenish his stock in Darshek, and would certainly need more, since the journey to Andon was longer and bound to be plagued by rough seas. He brought a covered mug of broth and some hard bread back to the cabin—Soza needed to eat, at least a little. But at the sight of the food, he covered his mouth and looked about to throw up again, so Karik hastily set it aside. “Just the tea,” Soza moaned. “Why didn’t anyone warn me about this?” “Well, no one would have known if you were susceptible or not,” Karik said, pouring out some freshened tea and passing it to his mentor. Soza looked dreadful after just two days. Perhaps once he drank the tea, he would be able to take the food—nerf leaf on its own for too long was bad for a person, and hardly nutritious. “You really should try the soup,” he urged. “I can’t, I’ll throw up. Take it away,” he said petulantly. “Just let me sleep.” “Are you sure there’s nothing I can get you?” “Poison—I want to die.” Karik bit his lip so he didn’t laugh. Poor Soza. “I think that would be a great loss to science,” he said gravely. “I’ll leave you alone for a bit. Try to sleep. Most people adjust and get their sea legs after a couple of days.” Soza just groaned and waved at him to leave. Karik collected the food and took it up onto deck to eat. He was hungry. It was cold up on deck, but clean and fresh after spending the day in the foetid air of the cabin, and he felt a guilty relief at being freed from nursing duty, however briefly. He found a place out of the wind, sipped the warm soup as he huddled down into his coat.
There was little moonlight, the new moon being only four days past, and the stars shone brilliant against the night. He’d always liked the stars ever since he’d been a child. He could watch them for ages, trying to make patterns with them in his imagination. He’d been sitting there for a few minutes before he realised he wasn’t alone on deck. Of course there were sailors, but what he’d taken for a fixed lamp some distance to his left, was actually a freefloating flame. He was so surprised, he blurted out without thinking, “Oh, you’re a fire-shaper!” His unknown companion turned and to Karik’s embarrassment, he realised it was the dread lieutenant Romi. “Yes, didn’t you know that?” Karik came a little closer and leaned on the rail. “No, it wasn’t in the report on you. My Pa’s a fireshaper.” The frown on Romi’s face as he’d turned towards Karik, was replaced by a puzzled expression. “But the Prij don’t have gifts.” “Uh, I meant my adoptive father. Reji of Ai-Albon. My Ma’s gifted too.” “Oh. I don’t think I’ve ever heard of a gifted person being able to adopt before.” Karik decided now was as good a time as any to try and mend things with this man, with whom he most likely would have to work for months. “It’s a bit complicated,” he said. “I think fire-shaping is a wonderful gift. I’ve always wished I had it.” “So people say. But they don’t have any idea what it’s actually like to be gifted,” Romi said with surprising bitterness. “Yes, that’s what my uncle Kei says. He’s a soul-toucher.” Romi arched an eyebrow at him, his handsome features thrown into sharp relief by his flame. “Is there anyone in your family who’s not gifted?” “Well, there’s uncle Arman. I suppose it is unusual—they’re all adopted relatives, though.” “What about your real parents? They’re Prijian?” “Of course. I don’t know who my father is. My mother lives in Utuk. I don’t...I don’t have any contact with her.” “Ah.” That exhausted the other man’s conversational abilities. Karik almost groaned—such a hard nut to crack. But then Romi turned to him again. “Thanks for the nerf leaf. Two of our people have been pretty sick today. It was a real relief to the poor sods to be able to stop puking.” “You’re welcome. I was just surprised the southern army isn’t issued it for sea travel.” To his surprise, Romi looked embarrassed. “We are, but because none of our medics is the medic, none of them thought to apply for a stock.” “So, just a logistical glitch?” “Yes. You caught us with our pants down—almost literally.” Karik smiled at the joke. “I’m glad to help. My best friend gets seasick, I know it’s horrible.” “Soza, you mean?”
“No, my friend Gyo, in the village. He works with my Pa now.” Romi nodded. “Miss them much?” “All the time,” Karik said with feeling. “But at least I’ll get to see Ma and Pa in Darshek, maybe even Gyo. I have other good friends up there too. It’s been a long time since I saw them and my family.” “Fortunate for you. I don’t see mine more than once a year, if that. They’re from near Ai-Vinri— do you know it?” “Yes, I do. I spent a week there last year. I thought it would be awkward since they have this ban on the Prij, but they accepted my naturalisation and I was made very welcome.” “Glad to hear it. You’re confusing, you do realise—a Prij from Ai-Albon?” “You’re hardly the first person to say so,” Karik said wryly. “I’m sorry about before—it’s just tiresome trying to explain to people that actually I speak Darshianese as well as they do. I speak both languages now, it makes no difference to me.” “Well, I’m sorry too,” Romi said with a sudden charming smile and flash of perfect teeth. “I should have asked, since you were at the Academy. I must have seemed like a pompous bastard.” “Um....” “Maybe you better not answer that.” “All right,” Karik said with a grin. “And you speak Andonese? I’ve been hoping to practice it some more—I have a terrible accent, Master Jezinke said.” “Care to demonstrate?” Romi said, asking in Andonese. “Now I have to think of something to say.” “Well, tell me about your family. You have parents—sister, brother?” “No, I’m an only child. I have cousins, all adoptive. Oh, and my daughter,” he added with a smile, thinking of Jes. She would be walking by now. “Daughter? Where’s her mother?” “In Darshek, of course.” Karik frowned. Romi’s expression had gone cold again, just as he’d thought they were getting on so well. He switched back to Darshianese, just in case he was saying something other than what he meant to. “Did I say something wrong?” “No.” Romi straightened up and doused his little fire sprite. “But you’ll have to excuse me. I just recalled there’s something I need to do.” And with no further hesitation, the man walked off, pulling his cloak around him and over his hair. What in hells? Karik stared after the man, trying to work out what he’d said that could have made things deteriorate so quickly. So much for practicing his Andonese, let alone making friends with him. What an arse he was.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Staying Power: 4 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Romi couldn’t get away from that little shit fast enough. Just when he’d thought that he’d misjudged the man, he revealed that he was even more deceitful than Romi had thought. So, what had he done? Abandoned his lover for Soza? Was he planning to just walk back into his family’s life after spending six months or more fucking the man, and not tell them what he’d been doing? Or was the poor woman about to receive the kind of bad news that Romi himself had had so recently? After his and Kepi’s experience, and now this, Romi was beginning to think no one believed in honour or trust at all. Were there no faithful lovers any more? At least with his soldiers, he knew in a crisis they would back him all the way, and that none would ever betray him, not over the slightest matter. Brothers and sisters in arms, more loyal than real siblings, some of them. He wrenched his angry thoughts away from the unpleasant revelations he’d just heard, and went down to the passenger hold to see if he could make his sick colleagues a little more comfortable. All was quiet. The seasick soldiers were sleeping peacefully in their bunks, and Netu reported they were doing much better since they’d had the tea, a fact that reminded Romi of Karik and made him clench his jaw. “Have you had your supper, Netu?” “Not yet.” “Then clear off and get some fresh air and have a break. I’ll watch things.” “Thanks, Romi. I won’t be long.” “Take the time you need, it’s not like I’ve got anything else to do.” Netu grinned and left. Romi took up his place on the hard little stool. It wasn’t strictly necessary to watch the sleeping soldiers, and there were others in their group around, but he felt guilty over the omission which had meant they had had to borrow basic medical supplies. True, he’d not been placed in official command until quite late in the day, and that only to get the soldiers down to the docks in good time, but he was the officer in charge—actually, the only officer—in the group, and really, if he’d not been so worried about looking like a fool in front of what turned out to be a pair of fools themselves, he’d have done his job and made damn sure someone had been thinking about things like medical supplies. “Sorry, Kepi,” he murmured, placing his hand on his sleeping friend’s arm. Kepi wasn’t the worst sailor, but the wind had been picking up in strength and the seas had been high all day. Romi had watched Kepi turning green, Netu hastily preparing tea and honey in a futile attempt to stave off the inevitable nausea, and even then, he’d not thought to ask Karik or Soza if they had nerf leaf. He’d taken his eye off his duty and his people had suffered for it. That had been inexcusable, and he would not allow it to happen again.
On paper, this mission had been such a good idea. But the actual people involved meant there were problems built in right from the start—the inexperience of the scientific leader being one of them. The relationship between the two scientists was another worrying factor—what if the two lovers had a falling out? It couldn’t be a healthy thing that it was based on the ashes of Karik’s other relationship— and what about the child? What if Karik decided to leave Soza, or leave the mission, to return to care for her? A lot would depend on who was in overall charge of things, and how much authority they had. Civilians giving orders to soldiers was a very bad idea even when they were competent, and Romi was so far unconvinced Soza was. Karik, he would reserve judgement on, though it wasn’t looking good. Andon was a poor choice for someone getting their very first field experience, and Soza struck him as exactly the kind of arrogant arse who would get himself into trouble at the earliest opportunity. If he was to be the one to dictate matters on which his safety and that of the team depended, then that was unacceptable. Romi intended to say this to Lord Arman if he got the choice, even if he was sacked from the team as a result—but if that happened, he’d urge his fellow soldiers to boycott the entire thing. A few plants weren’t worth losing good people over. For now, his job was to ensure everyone got to Darshek in one piece. As the weather worsened, even the hardier sailors among them began to succumb, lying helpless in their beds and turning over only to puke into the buckets that now sat by every stack of bunks, or into bowls held tightly against their chests. Netu and Romi struggled to care for them, making sure they had enough liquid and sedatives, but on the fourth morning, Netu suddenly went pale, throwing up his small amount of breakfast and collapsing onto a stool before Romi helped him to his bunk to lie down. Romi was truly worried now—what if this wasn’t seasickness at all? What if it was an infection? Netu was so hot—surely that wasn’t normal. He had no medical training, and there was only one sailor who acted as unofficial ship’s surgeon. When Romi asked him for advice, he said he didn’t know, and couldn’t really help if it wasn’t just ordinary seasickness. Watching the soldiers groaning, pale faced and wretched in their bunks, he knew he had to do something, but the only thing left to try was to ask the scientists. He stalked up to the next deck and found the passenger cabin, rapping on the door with possibly more vehemence than was necessary. Even so, the response was slow, which irritated him, but when the door opened, he realised the delay had not been a deliberate slight. Karik looked very tired and dishevelled, as if he’d been woken up, or had been at least trying to rest. “Lieutenant...is something wrong?” “All our people are sick and I’m worried about them. I wanted to know if you or Soza had any medical training.” “He doesn’t, and he’s sick too. But I’m trained as a healer. Give me a minute and I’ll come down.” He left the door open, but Romi didn’t enter. From the doorway, he could smell the now familiar stench of vomit and general illness, which was enough to make even a healthy man sick. Over on the lower bunk, he saw Karik speaking to Soza, who had his arm over his eyes and seemed to be uninterested in whatever Karik was saying. Then Karik came back over to Romi and closed the door behind him.
“Has he been like that for long?” “Since we set sail, more or less.” Karik had been caring for him all this time? They must be in love. “Are your medics sick?” Karik asked. “All of them are. They’re so ill, and I don’t know what to do for them. I don’t even know if this is just seasickness.” “It probably is, but I’ll do what I can. I don’t have a lot of practical experience as a healer, I’m sorry.” He sounded so weary that Romi bit back any sarcastic comment he might have been inclined to make. It wasn’t as if the man had claimed to be a healer, so he couldn’t hold that against him. The passenger hold was every bit as vile as the cabin, but Karik didn’t flinch. “Which one is the worst, do you think? Who’s been sickest the longest, or who was struck down most quickly?” Romi was momentarily confused, since he hadn’t thought about things that way. “Netu was doing fine until this morning, then he just collapsed and threw up.” Karik asked him to fetch clean water, soap and a towel, carefully washing his hands before going to Netu. He checked his pulse, his eyes, his breathing and his temperature, then asked Romi about the symptoms and the sequence of events. He washed his hands again, then looked at the other soldiers just as methodically. Finally, he drew Romi aside. “Netu has an infection, most likely some transitory illness, but it might be contagious. I’ll see if there’s somewhere he can be placed away from the others. The others are just seasick—what are you giving them?” “Salt ipo tea and honey, nerf leaf tea every few hours. None of them want to eat.” Karik grimaced. “Not surprising. Use the nerf leaf as little as you can, and nothing for Netu at all. You must wash your hands before and after tending to him, and keep any of his waste away from the others. There’s little we can do but help people endure. The ipo tea is good—give that to them as much as you can. Difficult with six of you to look after.” He bit his lip. “Let me speak to Captain Temu about a place for Netu, and then I’ll do what I can to help. I’d suggest our cabin, but it’s just Soza’s very sick and can’t do anything for himself at all, and I think it would just make him worse if I suggested he came down here as well.” “I’ll manage, if you can’t help.” “I’m sure,” Karik said tiredly. “Get some fresh air in here, and empty the waste buckets, will you? Wash your hands after, as I said. I’ll come back shortly.” Romi was a little taken aback at the authoritative way he’d just been ordered about, but there was no point in being prickly about trivial matters of pride. All that mattered was the health of the team. Karik was longer than he’d said, but when he returned, he said he’d arranged matters so the first mate would share the cabin with Soza for the time being. The mate’s cabin would become Netu’s sick room, and that of anyone else who might fall ill from the same thing. The captain was anxious that,
whatever the illness was, it should not spread through his crew. For that reason, Karik would care for Netu alone, and sleep in that room, at least until Netu was well and the chance of infection had passed. The captain would ask his sailors to help if they could, and Karik would try to give advice if needed. Romi had to admit it was a relief to have things so quickly and sensibly arranged. In matters of health and illness, he knew only the basics of emergency care and hygiene, though like all soldiers, he’d been issued a small book on how to deal with everything from blisters to field surgery which he’d made sure to study carefully. It was pure luck that Karik had not been felled by seasickness too, and Romi was grateful for that good fortune. The bad weather continued for three days, and he ran himself ragged attending to his sick colleagues. Every so often a sailor would turn up and offer to fetch tea, or sluice out buckets which took the pressure off him a little—he was developing a new respect for healers, if they had to do this all the time. The storms passed and within an hour of the rain stopping, Taz felt well enough to leave his bed. Soon several of the others were up too, all pale and fragile, but able to keep down soup and look after themselves. Kepi was the last to recover, and he was so weak, the now recovered medics forbade him from leaving his bed, in case he just passed out. It was the following morning before Romi saw Netu again, looking decidedly weak and weary as he walked into the passenger hold. Taz exclaimed at the state of him and made him sit. “Gods, Netu, should you be up?” Romi demanded. Netu shrugged. “I’m a lot better, and they wanted the cabin back. That Soza fellow didn’t like sharing with the first mate, apparently. Karik’s gone back to look after him.” Romi made a disgusted noise. “He said he’d look after you—if I’d known he was going to run off after that bastard—” Netu held up a hand to silence him. “It’s all right. I told him to. He’s been running back and forth between the two of us and he’s exhausted. I was much better yesterday but he told me to rest until we were sure the infection was gone. I’m not complaining.” Romi grunted—perhaps he’d been too hasty. “Well, you rest now. If we get more bad weather, everyone will be hit by this again and I’ll need you.” He looked at the team. None of them, including himself, were anything like ready for duty. There wasn’t anything more he could do. It was still another two days to Darshek, though the most storm-ridden part of the journey was likely over. The team were so tired they spent much of the day in their bunks, dozing or sleeping. Romi slept a good five hours before waking near sunset, hungry and refreshed as he had not felt in days. He found he’d been deserted—the others had to be up getting fresh air or finding solid food. He lit a fire sprite and decided that before he ate, he desperately needed to wash at least his neck and face. He went on deck to where barrels of rainwater were kept for that purpose, now full to overflowing with the weather they’d had. He shuddered as the freezing water hit his skin, and he hastily rubbed it dry with his shirt. “It’s a little too cold for that, don’t you think?”
He turned, still wiping the water from his face. “Maybe, but I couldn’t stand being dirty any longer. I’d kill for a bath.” Karik stood at the rail, his coat pulled around him and a scarf covering his pale hair. He looked rather drawn and pale in the dying sunlight. “Are you all right? You’ve not taken Netu’s illness, I hope.” “No, I’m not sick. Just tired. I wanted some air. I should go back though.” He started to walk away but stopped when Romi put his hand on his arm. “Wait...I wanted to thank you for your help, especially with Netu. We’re very grateful.” “It’s nothing. We’re all part of a team, we need to help each other.” “True. Pity your friend Soza doesn’t think like that.” He felt Karik go rigid under his arm, and then the man pulled away from him. “You’re very harsh in your judgements, lieutenant,” he said in a low voice. “And yet you know nothing about the people who you condemn. Soza’s never travelled on a boat, or been this ill before. You may not make an allowance for that—I do.” “He’s not the only one who’s sick, but he’s the only one demanding special favours.” Karik’s eyes narrowed. “You are so ready to criticise. Perhaps the rest of us don’t appreciate being held to your standards in that manner. Goodnight.” And then he walked quickly away and disappeared into the stairwell. Romi stood watching him go, rather shocked at the sharpness of Karik’s response. But then of course he was defending his lover. Romi should have had more sense than to expect Karik to agree with him. He shook his head at the foolishness of someone making such a mess of his life, and then went in search of his supper and more rational company.
~~~~~~~~ As Karik went to find refuge in the stores hold, he wasn’t sure what was worse—having to listen to that enormous arse criticising his friend, or that the enormous arse was right, damn him. He’d only gone up on deck because it was either that or snap at a sick man, and that would be neither wise nor kind. But then of course he had to encounter the one who knew everything. Couldn’t even make a simple thank you without adding a derogatory comment—the fact it was justified and for once, not aimed at him, made no difference. Karik was beginning to regret not encouraging Soza to turn Romi away, however much he grudgingly admired the way he had looked after his men, and spotted something was wrong with Netu despite his lack of training. The man would foment ill feeling. He already had done. He rubbed his forehead and climbed up on some sacks of beans and flour, so tired he could barely see straight, and needing to get away from everyone and everything for a few hours or he’d become homicidal. It wasn’t Soza’s fault he was ill, and Karik made allowances for that and his inexperience, but the man was incapable of even trying to help himself. Gods, Netu had been much more sick for a
day or so, and even then he’d been apologetic about Karik having to clean up his messes—that when he couldn’t even lift his head from the pillow without vomiting, poor man. Karik was sure if Soza got off his bunk, especially now the weather had improved so much, he might find the ship’s motion much less troubling. The sailors had assured him seasickness was much worse if you stayed below deck, but Soza had refused to move at all. And now Karik, perhaps only because he was so desperately weary and irritated with life, was starting to question Soza’s fitness for the role of scientific leader of the mission. Rather, he amended scrupulously, he questioned whether he could lead the mission. The tantrum that Soza had thrown over the presence of the first mate in the cabin had been deeply embarrassing, and even though the mate didn’t seem to blame Karik for it, Karik’s attempts to explain and apologise had been met by polite scepticism. That Captain Temu would undoubtedly hear about it made it worse, but the fact remained Soza was completely unreasonable. Netu had been very sick and needed to be isolated. Karik, Temu—even that arse—had known it was necessary, but Soza had refused to listen. This was not a good sign. He didn’t know what to do. Master Jezinke had been the one to insist on Soza’s presence on the mission as its leader, and Kei, who with Karik had been the one to draw up plans for the expedition while Karik was still in training, had bowed to that, though he’d freely admitted to knowing nothing of Soza. Now Karik was in the uncomfortable position of not being able to wholeheartedly support Soza, but at the same time, not wanting to cause offence and dissension. He covered his eyes with his arm, wishing the headache would go away. If someone asked him directly if Soza should be in charge, he supposed he would have to be honest. But hopefully Arman and Kei would be able to arrange things so Soza could be left to do what he was good at, and the logistical matters could be placed in someone else’s hands. Even Romi’s hands, he thought with a scowl. He sighed and got comfortable. It was so much simpler when he was collecting off on his own. He wished he could just head off on a beast and roam Andon as he had in Darshian, answering to no one and making his own decisions. He thought this present mission would still succeed, if it had the right management—he just didn’t expect to like the experience much. And with that gloomy thought, he decided to stop thinking and get some sleep.
~~~~~~~~ Twelve hours later, he felt a lot more cheerful. Some uninterrupted sleep had helped, and when he returned to their cabin, Karik was surprised to see Soza sitting up. “Feeling better?” he asked politely, helping Soza to straighten up. “Yes, I do. Karik, I apologise. I behaved atrociously last night.” “I understood—you’re unwell.” “You’re being far too kind. But the nerf leaf tea is making me so tired and irritable, and I sometimes can’t tell if I’m awake or dreaming. It makes it very hard to control my actions.”
Having been unwillingly dosed with the stuff years ago, Karik knew the drug had some rather unpleasant after-effects. “Do you think you might be able to stop taking it now? The weather is much better.” “I’ll try. I want to get up—perhaps you’re right, if I got some fresh air, it would help.” Karik was only too happy to help his friend leave his bed, and settle him in a comfortable spot before fetching him his first real meal in days. Once Soza was on deck, wrapped in his warm coat and sipping some of the ship’s excellent broth—the cook on board was a genius, and the food was some of the best he’d ever been served on a boat—he looked a lot more cheerful. “Well, this is wonderful,” he said, as he looked out over the ocean, which was indeed looking beautiful under the bright sun. “Oh, dolphins!” Karik had seen the dolphins playing in the ship’s wake many times, but he still found them a delight, as did many of the sailors who thought they brought good luck. “There’s lots to see even out here, if you look. Later on they’ll be netting fish—they’ve caught some species I’ve not seen before.” “Always the scientist,” Soza said fondly. “I wish someone could find a cure for seasickness though. I’m dreading the trip to Andon. You said it gets rough?” “So my uncle Arman says. But I plan to speak to uncle Kei about what we can do to make you more comfortable, and this time, I hope our soldiers will be properly supplied with the medicines they need.” “Ah yes, that was an unfortunate lapse, and it does seem extraordinary they had nothing for infection in their kit. I shall need to keep a close eye on the outfitting, I can see that.” Karik said nothing. The outfitting needed to be handled by someone who knew what they were doing, and Soza could have no idea what was required. “You must be looking forward to seeing your uncles again.” “Very much. Uncle Kei is just a wonderful man, a great scientist and a talented healer. I sometimes don’t know who I want to be more like—my Pa or him. Both, I guess,” he added with a grin. “And your uncle, his lordship?” “Oh, I admire him too, but I could never hope to be anything like Arman. He’s like a god, almost —he’s so tall and brave and his mind is so sharp. He can cut through any problem with just a few words. He can seem rather terrifying, although he’s actually very kind underneath it all.” “I look forward to meeting him then. You know, this broth is very good.” It was by far the best day of the journey. Soza insisted on staying out in the fresh air, which suited Karik just fine—with just another day to go, he felt the worst had to be over. And now Soza was showing the side of himself with which Karik was more familiar, his own natural optimism returned. Perhaps it would be an enjoyable expedition after all. Even the occasional sighting of lieutenant Romi, who gave Karik a rather cold look whenever he saw him, didn’t dampen his spirits. Soldiers could be tedious bores, he knew from past experience, but that didn’t mean they were incompetent. So long as Romi and the others did the job they were asked to, Karik wouldn’t care what opinion they had about him in private—and if they didn’t keep it private, he’d have no hesitation in telling them to do so. He
wouldn’t silently suffer the contempt of someone who knew nothing about him. He’d had more than enough of that in his twenty-one years, and he’d long ago decided the best course of action was to stand proud. Romi wouldn’t make him feel inadequate, because he wasn’t inadequate. He knew when they were close to Darshek because he suddenly heard Seiki’s voice in his head as he returned to the cabin to finish packing. “Karik! You’re nearly here.” “Yes, we must be,” he said, grinning to hear her welcome voice. “The weather is fair, the wind is good, we should be in dock by sunset. Have my parents arrived?” “Two days ago. Jena’s been playing with her granddaughter.” Karik grinned. “Well that will leave you more time with Mila. I can’t wait to see you all again. I’ve missed you.” “So have we. We’re going to have the biggest party here at the house when you arrive.” “Not the first night, Seiki, please, I need a bath.” “Not the first night, silly. But the second for sure—Reis is beside himself with excitement.” Karik could imagine. Reis was so enthusiastic about the things he liked, and Karik was assuredly one of those. It would be so good to see them all again—he had so many wonderful friends in Darshek. “Is Gyo with Ma and Pa?” “He sure is. Kei’s house is bursting at the seams! He said to let you know that your friend has been given accommodation at the Rulers’ House. He hoped that would be all right—there’s just no room at their home.” “I’ll explain. How is Jes—is she walking?” “Yes, a little, and she’s starting to talk, can you believe? Jena thinks she’s saying actual words, though it sounds like babble to me. Mila’s not sure. But she’s beautiful, Karik. I love her so much.” “How could she not be beautiful with you two as parents? I don’t suppose she’ll remember me.” “She’ll probably think you’re Arman, because of the hair,” Seiki said with a chuckle. “She’s discovered his braid makes a very good handhold. She’ll use anyone’s but for some reason, she particularly loves his.” “Ouch. Poor Arman.” His uncle wasn’t very fond of children, and Karik wondered how he was dealing with it. “Oh, he doesn’t seem to mind. He’s very good with her, even looks after her in his office from time to time.” “Arman does?” “Yes, he does. Funny, isn’t it? Kei’s still besotted of course, but I wasn’t expecting Arman to be at all interested. People are strange, don’t you think?” “Well, we knew that.”
They chatted a little longer, then Seiki said she was needed, so closed the link. Karik would see them soon enough. It sounded as if Mila and Seiki wanted their second child as soon as Karik was able to help. He wondered if they would want to attempt it while he was in Darshek this time, or wait until he got back. Of course, they might find another willing assistant, but somehow Karik thought this was unlikely. Dealing with a fourth set of grandparents would be too much to think about. Oh well, he would find out everything soon. After being immersed in study and research for six months, and spending much of the previous two years before that in solitary collecting, he was looking forward to some time just being a son, a nephew, and a friend. Soza had restored the cabin to order, Karik was glad to see. “My friend the mind-speaker has just been in contact. I’m to tell you that rooms have been prepared for you at the Rulers’ House.” “The Rulers’ House? My word, such an honour!” That wasn’t the reaction Karik had been expecting, but since Soza was inclined to see it that way, and not as the insult it might otherwise appear, Karik didn’t explain it was simply because there wasn’t enough room for him at Kei’s house. “The apartments are very comfortable there, and it’s just across the square from the Academy, quite convenient.” “Yes, indeed, and when Lord Arman wishes to consult with me about the mission, I shall be right there,” he said with a satisfied smile. “Another example of his excellent planning.” “Er, yes, it is.” It had probably been Kei’s idea, but he decided not to mention that. “I’m not sure when he’s going to hold the interviews. He might want to let the soldiers have a day or two to rest. You might like that too,” he suggested diffidently. Soza looked pale and haggard—travelling on a ship wouldn’t make anyone look at their best. “There’s no time to be slack, young Karik. We must ensure the soldiers are properly trained in collecting techniques. We must be able to trust their samples.” As it had only taken Karik two days to be trained in collecting methods, he doubted it would take the soldiers much longer—they didn’t have to analyse the material, just be meticulous in recording where they found a specimen, and take the correct parts of the plant. But there was other training to be carried out as well, in which Karik would also participate—surveying techniques, map-making and meteorological observations all had to be learned by the entire team before they set out. Karik was looking forward to it, although not as much he might do if the dreaded lieutenant Romi had not been there. Still, they had allowed three weeks for preparation, more than enough time, and Karik felt they could afford a couple of days to let people recover from the journey. He was certain once Soza got on shore, he would appreciate the importance of a little rest time too. The man was a hard worker, spending long hours at his papers, and several times since Karik had met him, had worked right through the night without even realising it. But that wasn’t quite the same as working in the field, and Soza wouldn’t be able to force people to work at that pace.
But surely Soza, an intelligent and usually reasonable man, would understand all this. It was Karik’s job to gently guide him with the benefit of his own experience, and complement his mentor’s skills. The trick would be to do that without causing offence. Or letting an arse like Lieutenant Romi cause it for him. Now that would be the real challenge.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Staying Power: 5 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Romi waited impatiently on deck as the ship came in to its berth. The journey had definitely been one of the least pleasant of his experience, and he would be glad to be on solid ground again, a sentiment his companions shared. There was already much slavering in anticipation of the first beer to be had in barracks, although Romi’s own personal ambition was to have a long, thorough bath. He felt seedy and grimy, and relished the thought of clean clothes on clean skin. Roughing it had its place, and so did being neat and orderly. He was also looking forward to a workout—there just had been no way to exercise properly on board, and he missed it. By the time the boat was secured in the dock, his companions were all assembled on deck. Karik and Soza had finally come out to join them—Karik was avoiding his eyes, as well he might, Romi thought. No doubt he was thinking of the reunion with his other lover and what lies to feed her. Romi ground his teeth a little in anger, thinking of the misery that little shit was about to cause some innocent woman. It wasn’t as if Soza was worth it. He forced himself to attend to his men. He could see an army captain waiting for them below, and a little way off a jesig-drawn calash bore a Ruler and another man—there to meet Karik and Soza, he assumed. Yes, there was the proof—Karik was waving to the calash passengers, one of whom had to be the notorious Prijian Ruler, Lord Arman. The other passenger, a Darshianese, waved back enthusiastically. Now Karik and Soza were leaving the ship, Romi ordered the men to follow suit, since no one had bothered to tell them what to do. As soon as he was off the gangplank, the captain came over to them. Romi saluted. “Lieutenant Romi, Temshek barracks. Here on the Andonese mission.” The captain returned his salute. “Welcome, I’m Tiko. You all look like you need a beer, a bath and a bed, am I right?” Romi grinned. Already he liked this man. “Yes, you could well be.” “Then come this way—you know the barracks, Romi?” “Yes, been there a couple of times on my way in and out of Andon.” He glanced over at the calash —a reunion was taking place. He refused to give them the satisfaction of seeing his curiosity, and turned his attention back to Tiko. “How many of your people are coming on this, do you know?” “Not sure—it’s this way, if you recall—that’s up to his lordship and Kei to decide. We weren’t expecting seven of you—three or four were all we were hoping for. If you all pass muster, that leaves me more of my fellows here where it’s nice and warm. I really don’t envy you going up there at this time of year, you’ll freeze your pissing balls off.”
“Ah, see, we’re made of sterner stuff in the south. We carry spare ones made out of jombeker hide.” Tiko just grinned at the joke. “When do we get assessed?” “Oh, a day or two. Arman...er, Lord Arman thought you might like to get your legs back under you. He understands what it’s like on that route. Did you have bad weather?” “Yes, and Netu,” he said, indicating the medic who was taking up the rear, “had some sort of infection. That fellow, Karik, helped look after him.” To his surprise, Tiko’s weathered face crinkled up in a fond smile. “He’s a good lad, young Karik. A good man to have at your side, just like his uncle and his Pa.” Romi wondered if Tiko knew about Karik’s double life, but it wasn’t his job to enlighten him. “Anyway, Netu’s been very ill, so a day or so to recover would be useful.” “I’ll let his lordship know—he won’t have a problem with that. Now, come along, gentlemen, we brew a fine beer in the barracks, let me tell you.”
~~~~~~~~ Pa just about crushed the life out of him, and then it was Arman’s turn, although his uncle was a little more dignified than his father. “Where’s Ma?” Karik finally asked when he was released. “Can’t you guess?” Arman said dryly. “Jes?” “Of course.” Arman cleared his throat. “And this would be Soza?” Karik flushed. “Gods, sorry. Soza, let me introduce my father, Reji, and my uncle, Lord Arman.” Soza bowed low. “I am deeply honoured, your lordship.” Pa’s eyebrows rose, and Arman cleared his throat again. “Ah, well, thank you. Has Karik explained about the accommodation?” “Yes, indeed, and thank you for this kindness. It’s unnecessary for someone as lowly as me.” Karik thought his father’s eyebrows would reach his hairline at that remark. “Um, Pa, what about our supplies? We need to stow them.” “That’s why I’m here, son. If you come with me, we’ll speak to Temu. Soza can go to the House while we handle all that.” “I’ll take Soza over there and come back for the two of you,” Arman said. “We could hitch a lift, uncle Arman,” Karik said, not wanting to use a Ruler’s calash like a cart for hire. “Afraid not, nephew,” Arman said with a smile. “I’ve been personally charged with getting you back to the house by Kei and your mother, and you know that it’s worth more than my life to ignore their orders.”
“Let him do as he wants, son,” his Pa said, clapping him on the shoulder. “Thanks, Arman, we won’t be long. An hour should see it all squared away.” “Yes, that’s what I thought. Soza? If you would?” Soza still seemed a little overwhelmed at the personal attendance of a Ruler, but he hastily gathered his packs and got into the calash. “I shall see you tomorrow, Karik?” he said as Arman climbed into the vehicle after him. “I’ll be at the academy—I’ll come to the House first and collect you.” Soza gave him a smile for that, and then Arman ordered the calash to drive off. “So, how was the trip?” Pa asked as they walked back over to the ship. “I’ve had better—all the soldiers were sick, so was Soza. It was his first sea journey—not a great introduction.” “No, doesn’t sound it. You’re looking well, son. Looks like Urshek agreed with you.” “It was great, Pa. Darshek’s a nice city and there’s everyone here, but Master Jezinke is such a clever man, you can’t imagine. I learned so much.” “I’m glad, son. I wished you were coming home for a few months, but this expedition is too good an opportunity to miss. Er...this Soza—sound, is he?” Pa wasn’t giving much away in his expression. “He’s very knowledgeable—very well-respected.” “Good, good, glad to hear it. What about the soldiers you brought with you? Good people?” “They seem so,” Karik said, keeping his tone as neutral as he could. “We didn’t have a lot to do with them since Soza was so sick.” That got him a sharp glance from Pa. “Doesn’t sound much like you—not to find out what they’re like.” “Well, they’re soldiers. They don’t really have much interest in the things I care about.” “Hmmm.” Pa was unconvinced, but Karik really hoped he would drop it, because he wanted Arman and Kei to assess the soldiers on their own merits and not his prejudices. “Oy, Temu! You old rascal!” The captain waved to them from the deck. Pa bounded up the gangplank like a man half his age, and the two men embraced as the long-time friends they were. Karik followed more sedately and found the two of them already deep in conversation about the expedition stores. “Right, then I think we’re fine to take things to the barracks as we planned. Can you spare someone, Temu, or shall I ask Tiko to order some soldiers to help?” “Oh, I think I can ask a few of the men. You don’t need to supervise, Reji. I’m sure you want to get back to Jena with your son.” “I can spare you a few minutes. Besides, I want to make sure you don’t skip out on the bet.” “You wound me, Reji. As if I would. Come on down to the hold. Karik, you can tell us what needs moving in what order.”
Between the three men and Temu’s competent crew, the supplies were efficiently extracted and sent on their way to the barracks for Tiko to take charge of. As they had a little time to spare before Arman returned, Temu invited them to sample a little Prijian wine from his private store before they went. Temu wasn’t going on shore like the rest of his crew were—he lived on the ship, and Pa had told Karik that he preferred its accommodation to the inns. He was a widower with a grown son and daughter who lived in south Darshian, so he had no ties and no need to please anyone but himself. He poured them small glasses of the dark wine, and handed one each to Karik and his father. “There you go. I was sorry we never had dinner together, Karik. You had a bad journey this time, I’m sorry.” “Not your fault. I was very grateful for your help.” “Not at all, my boy. You took charge of that sick soldier very efficiently. It was just a shame that your friend couldn’t have been a little more understanding.” Karik flushed and hid his face in the glass. “He was sick too.” His Pa was intensely curious about Temu’s remarks and he wished the captain hadn’t mentioned it. “Yes, I suppose so. I’m so used to my boat, I forget what it must be like for someone who’s never been on one. I wasn’t expecting to be taken to task over the quality of my cabin though. I’ve just had it refitted by the finest ship’s carpenter in Urshek.” “It’s very fine. I’m sorry about the misunderstanding.” Shut up, Temu, he begged silently. It seemed someone heard his pleas, because Pa lifted his glass and looked at the liquid in it. “Gods, Temu, who did you have to kill to get this? I swear even the Rulers don’t have wine this good in their cellars.” “And you would know, I’m sure. It’s lovely, isn’t it? I bought a stock in Urshek, a wine merchant selling up to retire to the country. I could let you have a bottle or two, if you like.” His Pa held up his hand. “No, don’t let me deprive you. Besides, it would spoil me for the beer. What do you think?” Karik sipped it again. He disliked wine usually, since it was on the sharp side, but this one rolled nicely on his tongue. “Smooth. Tastes...old.” Temu slapped his thigh. “Now that’s extraordinary, Reji. I was just about to tell you that this wine is a good twenty years old and your son works it out from the taste.” “Hmmm, I have to wonder what you’ve been learning in Urshek, Karik. Not been sneaking off and becoming a wine expert instead of learning about your plants, have you?” Karik pulled a face at his father’s teasing. “I’m just saying what it tastes like. It’s nice, Temu. Thank you.” Temu acknowledged the thanks with a nod. He stood and went to his locker and extracted a small cask of beer. “There you go, you mangy old bastard. I’ve been carrying that for months waiting to give it to you. That’s the best Urshek has to offer.”
“Thanks, Temu, I’ll think of you when I drink it. Kei says you have to come to dinner while Jena and I are up here.” “That’s kind of him, thank you. Now, I suspect his lordship is probably back by now. Shall we go?” Karik hastily finished off the lovely wine, and then followed the other two out on deck. Sure enough, Arman was waiting patiently for them. “I’ll come down to fetch you for supper,” Reji said, hoisting the cask onto his shoulder. “I look forward to it. Karik, it was good having you on board—I’ll see you again, I hope.” Karik shook the man’s hand and then they were waved off down the gangplank. His Pa’s need to ask about Temu’s remarks was almost palpable. “Pa,” he whispered, “don’t mention any of that to Arman, please.” “Are you sure, Karik? If Soza is that unreasonable—” “He’s not, not normally. He had a really bad start, but he’s very nice, honest. I don’t want Arman to judge him unfairly. Give him a chance, please.” “As you wish, son, but I can’t say I was happy to hear that.” “I know, but we need Soza’s knowledge on this trip and there’s plenty of us who can make up for any deficiencies of experience. I don’t want any trouble.” “You can’t expect me not to worry. The man’s supposed to be the mission leader.” “Only the scientific leader.” They were nearly on the ground. “But maybe...he shouldn’t be more than that.” There, he’d said it, though he felt like a traitor. “Arman should make the decision—why don’t you leave it to him?” His Pa frowned. “Very well. I’m not officially involved, you know that. But I’ll speak up if I think things aren’t being well-handled. I’d be a poor father and a poor friend if I didn’t.” “I know. It’ll be all right.” “It had better be, son of mine, because if you don’t come back alive from Andon, I kick your arse when I catch up with you in the next life.” Karik had to grin at that—if anyone could do it, he bet his Pa could. Arman was looking a little disgruntled as they got to the calash. “Sorry we’re late, uncle Arman.” Arman dismissed his apology with a wave of his hand. “I’ve not been here long. Is your friend always that long-winded or is he just nervous?” Karik risked a quick look at his Pa who had his ‘don’t ask me’ expression on his face. “I think he’s nervous, that’s all. And tired—it was a rough trip.” Arman grunted. “Very well, I suppose we need to make allowances. Driver, let’s go. My house this time.”
The calash set off again. It was getting dark, but there was still enough light—just—to see their way as the calash clipped along. “The reports I had on the soldiers were very promising. What’s your impression of them, Karik?” “I was telling Pa that I didn’t really get a chance to form one.” Just as Pa had, Arman looked surprised. “I was helping Soza most of the trip—he had the worst seasickness—and then one of the soldiers had an infection so I was busy with him. By the time that was all settled, the journey was over.” “Hmmm. I’d been looking forward to your assessment. Never mind, we have three weeks to see them working with you and Tiko’s people. We need this to be a very tightly knit team. There will be no place for loose cannons or inflated egos, or incompetence. I won’t risk your life or theirs by sending the wrong people on this expedition. Better not to run it at all than to do that.” “Agreed,” Pa said. “I wish Kei and Jena would let us go on this, don’t you, Arman?” His uncle’s expression became rueful. “If only. I envy you, Karik. Give me ten years of my youth, and my own head, and I would be with you from the start. And then Kei would murder me.” “Jena would help him,” Pa said with a grin. “Are you excited, son?” “Can’t wait, Pa. Just to see glaciers...and a volcano....” “Ho, and I thought you were just eager to find some more plant species,” Pa said, mock-cuffing him. “It’s supposed to be a very beautiful land, Andon.” “Beautiful, wild and dangerous,” Arman said. “If this goes well, it won’t be the only expedition we send there. I hope you are prepared for that possibility.” “I’m hoping for it, uncle Arman. Though I wish I could go home too.” His uncle’s eyes became soft with sympathy. “I know, my boy. There’ll be time for that too, but don’t waste your youthful vigour while you have it. There aren’t many men your age who’ll have seen as much as you will have. Think of the stories you’ll have for Jes when she’s older.” “And Jes’s children too,” Pa added. “But I wish I was going too. I never thought I’d say this, but I sometimes miss trading.” “It’s hardly exploring, Reji. I’d have never stuck it for as long as you did,” Arman said with a smile. “Probably not, and if I had to start doing it again, I dare say I’d be complaining about it. There’s just something freeing about being on the trail. What do you think, Karik?” “Well, when I’m out exploring, I love it, and when I’m home, I love that too.” Pa laughed and gave Arman a rueful look. “And so the son is wiser than the father once more. The secret of a long and contented life is to be happy where you are right now, of course. Kei’s like you, Karik.” “I hope I’m like Kei,” Karik corrected, which made Arman grin. “I wish you were coming too— it’d be fun.”
“Don’t say that in front of your Ma, son. Don’t mind me, I just get restless sometimes.” “Perhaps I should get you appointed official ambassador to Andon,” Arman said with a straight face. “You’re joking, I hope. Jena would castrate you with a rusty knife.” “Of course I’m joking. You, a diplomat?” “I can be diplomatic,” Pa said indignantly. “What are you implying, you Prijian bastard?” “A fine demonstration of your skills right there, I see,” Arman retorted. Karik decided not to get involved. Gods, it was so good to be home.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Staying Power: 6 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ After two days’ rest, Romi and the others were entirely back to normal. Even Netu suffered no ill effects from what he thought had probably been a mild ear infection. It had been a clever move to grant them this short break. On the Ruler’s orders, they had spent most of that spare time getting to know their possible team mates, and investigating what exactly was involved in the expedition, a rare luxury. Usually a soldier and his unit were ordered to go with a survey team with no chance to decide if they were the best people for the job. Someone had put a lot of thought into this. Captain Tiko was as solid and likeable on further acquaintance as he had first appeared. A career soldier who could have retired at least a year before, he had opted to keep working if he could be excused from field duties. He was the Rulers’ liaison with the barracks, and he clearly enjoyed a good working relationship and friendship with Lord Arman. Romi picked his brains as best he could, though Tiko was discreet for all his open manner and disliked to gossip, which Romi admired in a man. What he did learn was heartening—it had never been intended for Soza to lead the expedition. There were four other scientists going—two geologists, two surveyors, as well as the naturalists. The other strands of research would have to be taken into consideration, and decisions made as a team. Romi wondered when Soza would be told all this. To his surprise, he also learned Karik was rather better qualified than he’d indicated. He was the son of a healer, had spent over two years in formal studies and research, and a further two years in the field, working entirely alone—he was no soft innocent, that was for sure. While Romi still couldn’t forgive his infidelity, he was at least capable at his job. So far as Romi could see, the only deadweight they would carry was Soza—not an agreeable prospect, but not one they couldn’t work around. He was growing enthusiastic about the project again. The four northern soldier specialists were quiet, efficient men who inspired confidence. Romi made it his job to make a private assessment of each member of the team, because in a territory like Andon, so unforgiving of weakness or error, he wanted to know to whom he was entrusting his safety. His good impression of the soldiers who’d travelled with him from Urshek was reinforced in those two days. All of them were eager, and so far as he could tell, competent and suitable for the task. Kepi and Taz he already knew well. Netu was a reserved, gentle man, the son of a healer who had once had ambitions to be a healer himself, but after joining the army, found the life of a medic suited him so had not done the advanced training. He had never been to Andon, but had, like Romi and Reisa, taken up the army’s financial incentive to learn the language, and had worked with soldiers on training exchange from that country. Jou and Sibu had been in Andon in the last year on short exchange, and Reisa had been part of a survey on the southern coastline of the country.
He was just a little worried about Jou and Sibu—both had fellow soldiers as lovers and were hoping to wed on their return south. Romi didn’t like the fact they would put a huge strain on their relationships by such a long absence, and the morale question also had to be considered. A long mission was hard enough anyway, and this was one of the longest Romi had ever known planned. As they ate supper in the officer’s mess on their second day in Darshek, he asked Tiko for his opinion. The older man sat back and rubbed his chin. “It’s a problem, definitely. When I was younger, I spent a year away from my wife, more or less, and our marriage did need a bit of repairing. Some of my men came home, found their lovers or wives had left, like young Kepi’s did. One poor fellow found his wife had died. Of course, we were fighting a war, so we had things to occupy our minds, but there was a lot of sitting around, missing home. But I can’t see anything for it, Romi. Even the men without partners to return to, will be homesick. Seems unfair to penalise those who do, for what they may or may not feel. They chose freely after all. We soldiers know it’s a hard life.” He lifted his mug and grinned. “But there are compensations.” Romi smiled and took a pull from his own mug. “You don’t think the presence of a couple will make things harder?” Tiko looked completely confused. “Who? Which couple? Two of your people? I hadn’t realised —” “No, Soza and Karik.” “Soza—” Tiko choked. “Are you serious? Karik and Soza?” “Soza told me to my face. Warned me off, though there was no reason to. I can’t think it’s a good thing, myself. I mean for morale.” Tiko was still blinking in shock. “No, I don’t suppose it is. Are you quite sure?” “The man explicitly told me they were lovers.” “Blessed gods. Well, that’s a factor I’d not known about—and I wouldn’t mind betting his lordship doesn’t either.” “Ah, well, I suspect Karik has reason to keep it quiet, so I don’t know that Lord Arman should hear it from either of us—unless you think it will affect the mission.” “Hmmm.” Tiko looked into his beer. “Well, I suppose it might—but then again, there’s no reason for it to unless there’s a falling out, or some other jealousy. I don’t want to violate the lad’s privacy, but you’re the one whose arse will be on the line if it does affect things. I suggest you wait and watch, though. If you think you should mention it, then do so, but his lordship doesn’t like a tattle-tale any more than I do.” “I didn’t mention it for gossip’s sake, captain,” Romi said stiffly. Tiko waved at him to simmer down. “I know that. I just think that perhaps there’s no need to take it further. If Karik has his reasons for discretion, then knowing him as I do, I would advise respecting them. Up to a point, mind.”
“Agreed.” Romi wondered if Tiko knew Karik as well as he thought he did, because he couldn’t see this man, father, grandfather and loving husband as he was, being happy at a child and mother being abandoned. But Romi had to admit he didn’t know all the facts. His main reservations about Soza stemmed not from his relationship with Karik but his lack of experience, and that was already known to all. No, having mentioned it, he would leave it. For now. It had been arranged they would be assessed on the third day, which had given them time to wash their uniforms and get spruced up. They were called to the colonel’s briefing room one by one, Romi being the last to be summoned, so he had a good idea from the others about whom he’d be meeting and what they would want to know. He found quite a battery of examiners waiting for him—the army surveyors and geologists, Karik, Soza, Lord Arman, another Darshianese man and an Andonese woman. He saluted. “Lieutenant Romi, as requested.” “Take a seat, lieutenant,” the Ruler said. “You met most of us, of course. I am Lord Arman of Darshek. This is Kei, Master of the Darshek Academy, and this is Juizeigi, of Andon.” The handsome man who’d been introduced as Kei gave Romi a wide smile—he had to be Karik’s soul-toucher uncle. No shortage of looks in that family, adopted or otherwise. Lord Arman was also exceptionally good-looking in a very severe, aristocratic manner—despite Soza’s hints, if there was a blood relationship between the Ruler and his nephew, there was nothing other than their colouring to suggest it. Arman was huge, imposing and proud of bearing, while Karik was slim and unassuming, though his green eyes could flash with as much hauteur as any Prijian noble. Right now, he was looking at Romi almost as if he had never seen him before, and giving nothing away. Soza looked smug and self-important, nothing like the faded creature who had left the boat two days ago. Romi didn’t find him any easier to stomach, so he turned his attention back to Lord Arman. “Lieutenant, you spent a year in Andon. Would you care to tell us—in Andonese—how you found it, and what you liked about the country?” He’d been expecting this, and was glad he was completely confident of his fluency. “The people were what that I liked most. They have a strict sense of honour, and respect moderation in all appetites, something we strive for in the military too, but they also have a wonderful sense of fun, and a great love of life and its blessings.” Everyone but Soza was nodding. “I saw only a little of the country, but what I did see, I found majestic. I wanted to explore, to see what I could from the ranges and what was hidden in the valleys. It’s a land which demands respect, but I could see why it inspires such fierce love in its people.” “Very poetic,” Lord Arman said dryly. “Juizeigi, if you would?” She nodded in acknowledgement. “Lieutenant, please list the three principal virtues of a good Andonese woman.” “They are the same as those of a good Andonese man—continence, kindness and piety.” “And the name of the god whom we worship?”
“May not be named, for a man is not worthy to utter it. Instead, we should call him ‘Sephiz’, which means ‘beloved and loving’, for he is both.” That won him a thin smile of approval. “Finally, how does one Andonese greet another, and why?” Romi demonstrated the crossed-chest bow. “It is done thus because the soul belongs to Sephiz and resides in the heart, and in bowing this way, we show our respect for the benevolent god’s most precious gift to man.” Juizeigi blinked. “You’re the first one to get that right. Most people think it’s because we think handshaking is dirty.” “Yes, I know. That never made any sense to me, so I asked.” She leaned over and whispered in Lord Arman’s ear. The Ruler remained impassive. Karik was staring at him, but Romi couldn’t work out what he was thinking. Master Kei gave him another reassuring smile—the lines around his eyes indicated he habitually smiled a good deal. Romi got the impression that it was because he was happy, rather than to present a pleasant facade as Soza seemed to do. Karik certainly had some interesting relatives. Finally Lord Arman cleared his throat. “Well, you’ve impressed our Andonese liaison, lieutenant, which is a good beginning. But now about this survey you were on in the Treyk range....” Romi, who had been feeling just a little pleased with himself over the cultural exam, now found himself being closely questioned by a man with a razor-sharp mind and one who’d been a general by the age at which Romi had just made lieutenant. Lord Arman was unabashedly trying to trip him up, catch him out in the smallest lie, the least fuzziness of logic, and Romi needed all his wits about him not to look like a simpleton. He’d seen interrogations of hardened criminals that took a softer line than this man did now with him. Not only was Lord Arman challenging his judgment, he was doing it in three languages, switching without warning between Darshianese, Prijian and Andonese, and giving Romi very little time to think. He got the slight impression the Ruler was enjoying himself, and did his best to rise to the challenge. At last, Lord Arman stopped and gave him a friendly smile. “Forgive me, lieutenant. We need sharp minds and rapid reactions on this and you were so well recommended, I wanted to see if your superiors were trying to get rid of a substandard officer. I can see now that everything they said was justified.” “Thank you, my lord.” Lord Arman glanced at his companions, and seemed happy with their reactions. “Then I have no hesitation in saying you will be welcome on this expedition. You do understand this is voluntary—and that you may back out up to the point you get on the ship to Andon? After that, of course, it becomes tricky.” “Yes, I understand. I’m looking forward to it.” Kei raised his hand. “Just one thing, Romi. It’s a long mission, much longer than most. What about lovers, your family, friends...how do you feel about leaving them behind?”
Romi couldn’t suppress the pang of pain at the mention of lovers, but he forced himself to smile back at the man. “I’m unattached. My friends are in the army, so they understand, but I already count two of the southerners who came with me as friends, and I like the others a good deal. As for my family—they’re used to me being away. It’s not easy, but I wouldn’t give up the experiences I’ve had since I joined the army for anything.” “Thank you. Carry on, Arman.” The Ruler gave Kei a sharp look, but then turned back to Romi. “Very well. Lieutenant, I want to discuss a few things with my colleagues, but I will almost certainly want to speak to you again before I leave. Gentlemen, thank you,” he said to the other four soldiers, who rose and saluted. “Lieutenant, could you let the adjutant know where we can find you?” “Certainly.” He stood and saluted again, and on being dismissed, left the room with the other four. That had been rather different from anything he’d ever experienced, but he was happy with his performance, and glad to see the professionalism on display. This expedition was finally beginning to smell of success.
~~~~~~~~ Arman turned to the others. “A very impressive officer, don’t you think? Captain Pek is a good man, but I feel this lieutenant would make an even better head of the expedition. Kei?” “Well, he stood up to one of your infamous grillings without batting an eyelid,” Kei said with a grin. “He deserves a medal for that. Yes, he seems perfect.” “Soza?” Arman asked. “A very good choice, my lord. I find him as impressive as you do.” Karik blinked—just before they’d come to the barracks, Soza had been so dismissive of Romi, quite certain they would be able to do without him. Arman noticed his surprise. “Karik? You’re not so sure?” “I...well, he’s a bit....” He stopped, not wanting to sound whiny or malicious. Kei smiled at him. “Just be honest, Ka-chi. Do you think he would be a bad leader?” “No, not that. I just...he makes rather fast judgments.” That sounded rather wet. Kei raised an eyebrow. “Of people?” Karik nodded. “Unfair judgments?” Karik bit his lip. No, he couldn’t say ‘unfair’ exactly. “Just...harsh.” Arman cleared his throat. “I suspect that’s his military background. Policing forces you to make rapid assessments on little evidence. He didn’t strike me as the kind of man who would be rigid about it —do you feel that he doesn’t change his opinion once made? Or that he wilfully misunderstands a situation?” “No,” Karik said slowly.
“Put it another way,” his uncle said. “Would you trust him to back you up and keep you safe?” “Yes.” No hesitation at all this time. “Even if he hated your guts, he would do that.” Arman smiled. “And that’s exactly the kind of person I want in charge here. You and the other scientists, Juizeigi too,” he said nodding at their Andonese liaison, “will all have a chance to get to know these men very well over the next three weeks. If you still have reservations by the time the bulk of the training is complete, then I want to know. But my instinct is that lieutenant Romi is precisely the man for the job. We’ve been very lucky with the southerners, don’t you think?” Though the questions had been addressed to Karik, it was Soza who answered eagerly. “Oh, yes, indeed, my lord. The proper training in correct methodology and they will make very able assistants.” Arman frowned a little. “I’m not sure I’d refer to them as assistants, Soza. Those soldiers may not be scientists, but they’ll be the ones who will get you there and back safely, and I hope, be able to work independently. None of them strike me as the kind of people who need minute to minute supervision, or who would welcome it either.” Soza bowed his head politely. “As you say, my lord. We are all part of a team.” Karik was glad to hear him say that, just as he had been intensely relieved to learn that Arman had already dealt with the question of leadership of the mission. Karik hadn’t been present when Kei and Arman had explained it to Soza, but since Soza had been very satisfied with the way it had been presented to him, complimenting the wisdom of a structure which meant he would not have to bother himself with mere logistics, Karik was happy that the thorny issue of wounded pride had been so neatly sidestepped. “Then are we agreed? I would like to appoint him today, so he can start organising things.” Everyone nodded. “Excellent. Soza, Juizeigi, would you care to take the calash back to the House? The driver will return for us later.” “As you wish, my lord. Efficiently handled, if you don’t mind me saying so.” Arman coughed. “Ah, thank you, Soza. That will be all, everyone. Karik, remain here, please.” Karik stayed in his seat as the others left, his heart sinking. He shouldn’t have said anything and now Arman would want to know why he had spoken up. This was just what he had hoped to avoid, but once Arman had asked directly.... “Don’t look so worried, Ka-chi,” Kei said, laying a hand on his shoulder. “Now what has that big bad soldier done to you?” “Kei, don’t be an idiot,” Arman said severely as Karik flushed hot. “Karik, I take it you and the lieutenant didn’t get off to a good start. I thought as much when you arrived.” “It was my fault, in a way,” Karik said, rather embarrassed. “He came to the academy to learn about plant nomenclature, and assumed I was Prijian. You know I get tired of explaining that, so I just spoke to him as he spoke to me. I never expected to see him again—and when I did, he thought I’d deliberately deceived him.”
“I can see that not going down well,” Kei murmured. “Are you saying he took it on his own initiative to learn about plant names? Even though he’s had no training?” “Yes. I was impressed by that—but then he was so rude to me afterwards.” “Hmmm. Unfortunate,” Arman said. “Was that all that bothered you?” “Um, well...he doesn’t like Soza.” Kei looked a little embarrassed while Arman gave Karik a rueful smile. “Disliking Soza isn’t a hanging offence and, to be brutally honest, Soza isn’t the kind of man who would appeal to someone as straightforward as the lieutenant. Or to me,” he added in a perfectly audible mutter. “Kei, tell me again why we need him on this expedition?” Kei folded his arms and gave his lover an exasperated look. “You know as well as I do it’s political—if we want the Rulers in Urshek to help fund and support this, we have to take Jezinke’s wishes into consideration. He comes highly recommended.” “Uncle Arman, he really does know his plants. He’s got a very sharp eye,” Karik said, anxious to present Soza in a proper light, even if Arman had decided he didn’t care for him. “That may be so, but he makes my teeth ache. But it’s your honest opinion that his presence is necessary?” “I believe we will achieve more for his presence than without him.” “I’m not happy about him being on this—I hadn’t realised just how little experience he had. He’ll be deadweight, Karik. He can’t even ride.” That had been something that had been rather awkward to discover, and when he’d heard about it, Pa had been as forthright in his disgust as Arman was now. “I know...but he learns fast, and he got used to the ship eventually. He’ll get some riding practice in—it won’t take long for him to become capable on a quiet beast.” He was aware that sounded incredibly feeble. “He would take it as a deadly insult to be turned away now, and Master Jezinke would be offended.” “Nephew, I care very little what either of them think—my main, my only concern, really, is that this whole matter is carried out with no harm to either our relations with the Andonese or to any of you. If Soza goes on this, I intend to give lieutenant Romi complete authority over him—and if he has to be tied to the back of a beast and carted home, he’ll have authority to do that. He’ll have the same authority over you. Will you accept that?” “Yes, I do. He’ll be like the captain of a ship.” Arman seemed pleased at that analogy. “And do you believe he would exercise that authority well? Do you trust him? Answer me honestly.” “I believe...I believe he might be an irritating arse sometimes, but he would not be arbitrary. Harsh, perhaps, but open to reason.” At least, so Karik hoped.
Arman nodded and Kei smiled. “You are always so fair-minded—it’s one of your best qualities. As for him being an arse, you’ve plenty of experience of that kind, and you’ve won more than a few of them over. Let the man see a little of your charm and he’ll be as devoted to you as we are.” Karik pulled a face. “No thanks,” he said firmly, which made Arman laugh. “Enough of that nonsense, Kei. I meant what I said, Karik—if after the training you have any reservations at all, I want to know about them. I know you won’t be petty.” “I hope not, uncle Arman.” “Good lad. Now, why don’t you two go and speak to Tiko and I’ll have a word with the colonel. I’ll tell the lieutenant my decision, and then we’ll go home. I don’t want to be late.” Karik smiled to himself. Arman wanted to see Jes before Seiki and Mila took her home. He was so sweet sometimes. Kei kept a hand on his shoulder as they walked out of the briefing room and onto the long verandah. In the exercise yard, men and women practiced weapon drills. Karik felt Kei go tense. “Let’s just go out to the colonel’s garden. I’ll ask Neka if she can send Tiko to us.” Karik agreed readily and they went to the small private area behind the colonel’s house. “I wish I knew how to tell Soza he’s annoying Arman,” Karik said as they sat down. “Ah, well, Arman’s always disliked any hint of obsequiousness. I take it Soza wasn’t like that in Urshek?” “He was really nice to me. I learned so much and he wasn’t like this, really. I don’t know why he’s suddenly started to behave this way.” Kei didn’t say anything for a moment, apparently fascinated by the winter blooms in the garden bed next to the chair. “He doesn’t have a wide circle of friends, does he?” Karik thought and then nodded. “He spends all his time in research.” “Then perhaps he’s just out of his depth. Not everyone fits in as well as you. Master Jezinke was glowing in his praise, and I second what you say about him as a researcher—but Jezinke doesn’t get out much either, I think.” “I’ve never seen him anywhere but the academy,” Karik admitted. “Soza was very good to me. I don’t want him turned away without a chance.” “No, I know, and defending him is admirable. Arman’s being severe because he’s worried about your safety, as am I. Do you really think Soza should go, Ka-chi? In your heart? I know you have some reservations,” he said with an apologetic smile and a touch to his forehead. “I do. I don’t know, Kei. If I say no, it’s a terrible thing to do to him. If I say yes and I’m wrong...it’s much easier on my own,” he blurted out. “Undoubtedly. What about this Romi? Would his opinion be worth having on this?” “He despises Soza,” Karik said mournfully. “Soza isn’t very pleasant when he’s sick.” “Hmmm. And does Romi despise you, do you think?”
“I don’t know. He kept going hot and cold on me. I didn’t feel like playing games with him—I was too tired.” Kei rubbed his shoulder in comfort. “I rather suspect our handsome lieutenant is nursing a recently wounded heart. If my guess is right, it’s the reason he’s so eager to get away from Temshek for a while. People unlucky in love tend to be bitter and judgmental for a while until they’ve expended their grief. But I got no sense of malice from him, and he’s genuine in what he says.” Karik was surprised at Kei’s surmise, but thinking about it, there could be some truth in it, he admitted. “I don’t think that would affect his opinion of Soza, though.” “No, I suspect not. Different worlds—Arman’s an unusual man in that he’s by nature possibly as much a scientist as you or I. Most soldiers aren’t like that, but it doesn’t make them bad people. I tell you what. Soza is going for riding lessons in the afternoons this week, and I’ll make the time to go with him. I’d like that chance to pick his brains anyway-he really has the most encyclopaedic knowledge of plants.” Karik nodded—on that, there was no doubting Soza’s abilities. Kei continued. “I’ll talk to him about being on the road, travelling—in a general way—and see if I can help him feel a little more at ease. Hint at how Arman would like to be treated, and so on. He’s not stupid. I think he might well take the advice. We can only do so much, of course, and you’re not responsible for his presence on the expedition or his success at it. Soza’s a grown man. He has to make his own mistakes.” “I know, I just don’t want any bad feelings. I want to be able to keep working with the Urshek academy, Kei. They have a wonderful reference collection, and Soza’s not the only botanist down there I wish you could meet.” “With good will, many things are possible,” Kei said peaceably. “Don’t look so worried, nephew mine. Look, there’s Tiko.” He rose and went to greet their friend. Karik felt a little calmer. Kei had such a way of making things seem so much less tangled. He just hoped Soza would take the well-meant advice and learn a few of the social skills he lacked, and that was surely all that was needed for him to fit in with the rest of the team. If not.... Well, best not to think of that.
~~~~~~~~ Romi got the summons to return to the colonel’s offices a bare half hour after he’d been dismissed. He wondered what Lord Arman could want to cover that he had not done already—he doubted the man could be having second thoughts. The colonel welcomed him and then told him that Lord Arman would be using his office for a few minutes while he, the colonel, attended to other business. The Ruler greeted him politely and invited him to sit. “Sorry this is such an extended business, lieutenant—we had a few matters to settle before I
spoke to you again. But before I do that, would you be good enough to tell me your assessment of your colleagues from the south? Speak frankly, please.” “I’m glad to do so, my lord, because they’re all good people. Sound, capable and intelligent. There’s not one I would not like at my side.” Lord Arman smiled. “Then you’ll be pleased to know that was exactly their opinion of you. It’s a stroke of luck to have so many volunteers of such quality. We had four more soldiers ready to join the expedition, but they won’t be needed. You seem to have formed a good team in short order—that speaks well of you all. However, the team needs a leader, and my colleagues and I have decided that should be you. Would you be willing to take on this role?” “Yes, my lord, gladly. It would be an honour.” “A great responsibility as well, but I know you understand that. Of course, you’ll be given a field promotion to captain with a commensurate pay increase for the duration.” Romi hadn’t been expecting that at all. “Thank you, my lord,” he said, flushing a little in pleasure. “Does this mean Captain Pek won’t be coming?” “Unless you feel your team is understaffed, I can’t see a reason for him to do so. Your task starts now, lieutenant. Your job, in addition to being trained, is to test your team for weakness, see if you have enough people to compensate, and to anticipate and plan for all emergencies. We’ve done a lot of planning, but I will plan and prepare and supply this expedition until it is as safe as we can make it for the people on it. That means you too—and the civilians. Especially the civilians.” At those last words, Lord Arman fixed him with a steely blue gaze. “Yes, of course, my lord. I’ve sworn to protect the citizens of Darshian even at the cost of my own life. That won’t change because we’re in Andon.” “Good. Because I shall take it very personally if the slightest harm comes to my nephew through any lack—or prejudice—of yours.” Romi flushed. “Your nephew will be as considerately treated as anyone else, my lord. I’m a little insulted you think it could be otherwise.” “Then you’ll be pleased to know he was just as adamant that you would be even-handed and trustworthy despite his own feelings towards you.” Romi was a little startled by that—Karik had been defending him? “I know you and he didn’t have the best beginnings for a relationship among team members. You two will have to reach your own understanding, but I will say this—Karik bears making the effort to understand. He’s an exceptional man, and serves this country as devotedly as any soldier. I speak now not as a friend and an uncle, but as someone looking to this country’s future. I believe you also will give much to Darshian. It would be a shame if you two pulled in different directions over some petty grudge.” “Yes, my lord. My aim is to make sure this mission succeeds in every way possible. I am aware how important your nephew is to that success.”
“Hmmm. There’s another consideration, and I confess I can’t be as wholehearted about this as I should perhaps be.” “Soza?” The Ruler gave him a wry look. “So you’re a mind-speaker as well as a fire-shaper?” “No, my lord, but I’d be amazed if someone like yourself had not considered his...deficiencies.” “One way of describing it, and if I’m honest, I’d really like him struck from this mission. However, Kei and Karik both insist he’s necessary and they’re the experts on botany, not me. Your job is also to enable Soza to contribute what he may—but you have absolute power in this matter. You will be a dictator, but a benevolent one, I trust. Having said that, you must do all in your power to help the scientists get on with their job. Where there is a dispute, I expect you to use diplomacy, not order things done or not done. Civilians don’t like that kind of thing, and you can’t expect them to accept military discipline. You have three weeks to build up relations with everyone on the team, including Soza. By the time that ship leaves, I want you to be able to handle him and compensate for him. If you can’t, then someone will be left behind, because this is too important and too dangerous for one man’s ego to destroy. Do you understand me?” “Perfectly, my lord. I’ll do my best.” “Good. Now, that’s more than enough for today, but we shall speak again. I expect daily progress reports and assessments directly from you. Give them to Karik to bring to our home, or have them delivered. Now, speak to Tiko—he knows my decision and is waiting to help you get started. You’ll be earning every rina of your extra pay, I warn you.” “I’m not afraid of hard work, my lord. Thank you—and thank Karik for his endorsement.” Lord Arman shook his head and smiled. “No, you do your own dirty work, lieutenant. It’s an excellent chance for you to mend some fences.” “As you wish.” He stood and saluted, then at the Ruler’s dismissal, he left. A promotion! Even if it did mean pandering to that damn fool for months, it would make a real difference to Romi’s long term career prospects—field promotions were rare, and nearly always meant a full promotion was not long in coming. But that meant he really had to lay his dislike of the two naturalists aside and pull the team into shape. He suspected Lord Arman’s ‘taking it personally’ involved long pointy objects, so Karik’s pretty backside would have to be treated like it was made of glass from now on. Oh well, it was just one more challenge and Romi thrived on challenges. He whistled as he walked off. Yes, this really would be a great expedition.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Staying Power: 7 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ After the congratulations and celebratory beers, it was down to work. Unfortunately, training got off to an inauspicious start with a session by Soza, which took a group of bright, interested and motivated people and reduced them to fidgeting tedium with three unrelieved hours of rambling, pompous discourse on plant collecting. Even Karik was looking less than fascinated long before the end of it. Romi would have a revolt on his hands if his people had to put up with three more weeks of this. Fortunately, Soza had a luncheon appointment and would be busy that afternoon. Karik had been deputised to take them through the practical exercises and oversee the fieldwork on the subsequent two days. There were audible sighs of relief as Romi called the session to a halt for the morning, and told the team to head to the mess for lunch. He politely helped Soza collect his materials and escorted him to the calash, and walked back with Karik to the mess. Karik seemed rather embarrassed. “Not a natural teacher, is he?” Romi said. Karik gave him a sharp look, then slumped a little. “He’s much better one to one—and with someone with a little background in the subject. Teaching’s a skill like any other, and not everyone has it.” “You do. You explained things to me just fine in the library.” Karik looked as if he was about to make a smart remark, but then thought better of it. “What do you want me to do? I doubt your soldiers have the patience to sit through another lecture.” “You’re having lunch with us—why not just explain things over the meal, let them ask questions. Perhaps explain what you and Soza will be doing with the material we collect before it’s sent back to port.” “I can do that, lieutenant.” “Uh, actually, it’s ‘captain’ while we’re on this mission. But ‘Romi’ is fine—I don’t insist on rank, especially not with civilians.” Karik drew himself up to his full height. “As you wish, captain.” Then he walked off across the yard to the mess, leaving Romi to wonder how he’d managed to offend the little shit this time. But he had to give Karik his due—he made himself approachable to the team, even diffidently criticising Soza’s methods while expressing respect for his knowledge, and giving the soldiers an opening to ask questions and vent a little. Karik would have to get used to people criticising Soza, but Romi would make sure the bitching didn’t get out of hand. It would help if Soza could display some kind of conspicuous competence—that would do more than all the spouting of facts and theories to win over the people who would be working with him.
Good humour was restored by the end of the meal, which Romi deliberately allowed to run longer than normal to let the team have a break and question Karik. It was a far more cheerful group who mounted the carts taking them to the academy for the afternoon, and Karik was engaged in a deep conversation with Sibu and Kepi as they drove along. Romi was in the other cart and couldn’t hear what they were saying, but it was making Karik laugh—which made Romi feel inexplicably jealous that they could make Karik smile, but he couldn’t even get the man to call him by his own name. He needed to stop giving a damn about what the little bastard was doing, he thought, turning his eyes back to the road. None of them, bar Karik, had been inside the Darshek academy before, and only two of them— well three, if one counted Romi’s brief exposure—had any familiarity with its Urshek equivalent. Romi smiled to see the reaction of the team to the library, which was even larger and more elegant than the one in Urshek, and to see them itching to get their hands on the maps, always something soldiers loved to see. Karik patiently answered their questions and showed them around, then took them to the plant reference collections and introduced them to the researchers there. They were greeted enthusiastically, several of the people working there expressing gratitude for what they were doing and envy at the chance they were to have. The entire process of dealing with collected specimens was explained with care and humour, not just by Karik but two female researchers who seemed to be his friends as well as colleagues. It was fascinating to see the man in what might consider his natural habitat, away from the odious Soza and without any arrogance or pretence. Romi wondered again why he had decided to take up with someone so lacking in social skills as Soza when it was clear he was so well liked. Though it would not be part of their work in the field, the researchers insisted they have a go at the specimen processing, so they were set into teams of two, carefully stripping plants to their component parts, separating seeds, flowers, leaves, bark and even galls, and then being shown how they would be preserved by drying or pressing. Karik paired up with Romi without a comment, but after getting him started, left him to check on how the others were doing. The forceps were fiddly in Romi’s large hands, and he did more damage to the specimens (thankfully unimportant common plants) than good. He started a little as a slim hand was laid over his own, preventing more mess. “Gently, captain. It’s not like changing a wheel on a wagon.” “Oh and you would know, I suppose,” Romi retorted. Karik gave him a pitying look. “Yes, I would, actually—my father’s a trader and the only wainwright we have in the village. I’ve changed more wheels than you’ve dissected specimens, I guarantee. Do you want to do this right or shall I help someone less obdurate?” Chastened, and annoyed at his own hasty words, Romi went to hand Karik the forceps so he could show him, but Karik made him hold them, then curled his fingers carefully around Romi’s hand. “Lightly, captain. The metal is springy, so if you apply more than necessary force, all you do is compress the material harder and damage it, without improving your grip. Here.” He made Romi open the forceps, then placed a few miniscule seeds on his open palm. “Imagine this is a baby’s face and you
want to remove a dangerous insect. If you squeeze too hard, you will make the insect sting the child, and if you push, you will hurt it. Just take it slowly—you can do it.” Romi wondered why Karik was taking this trouble since they wouldn’t need to do this in the field, but he hated to fail at things, so he concentrated. “Careful, captain. I’m a newborn with extremely delicate skin and that insect is very nervous.” It took forever, and Karik kept telling him to slow down, using his voice as a guide until he was almost whispering, which made Romi respond as if it really was a baby’s face he was lifting seeds from. At last he had one of the fragile objects delicately placed between the tips of the forceps, and placed it carefully on the tray. “Gods. That was worse than an hour’s sword work,” he said with feeling. Karik grinned. “You big men all have the same problem—you’re used to solving things with brute force. My Pa, my uncle, all just like that.” He waggled his slender fingers. “Sometimes being small has its advantages.” “You’re not that small.” The man was only four inches or so shorter than Romi—he was, in fact, slightly above average height—but gave the impression of being more delicate than he was. He had the build of a youth, slender and fine-boned, though if he really had helped his Pa change wagon wheels, then he couldn’t be as dainty as he appeared. Without the beard, one would think he was still in his minority. “Perhaps not, but I can’t rely on my brawn to work my way. I think that’s enough—the leaf pressing is easier, but you still need to use the tips of your fingers. I’m sure you caress your lovers tenderly—use that knowledge.” Stung, Romi snapped without thinking, “That’s not something you’re likely to find out at close hand, is it?” Karik stiffened and moved away, colour pinking his cheeks. “My apologies,” he said in a low voice. “Forgive me for being so personal.” He made a slight bow and then retreated to where Taz was struggling with a stem. Romi was momentarily so angry he forgot that Karik could not know about Daiso, and that the remark had not been intended as any kind of insult. He clenched his fist and forced himself to calm down—even after nearly three weeks, the pain of Daiso’s rejection could hit him unexpectedly and with as much force as the first time he’d read that cowardly note. When he had got himself back under control, he looked over to see how the rest of the team were getting on. Karik was apparently engrossed in helping Taz and very carefully not looking at him. Romi felt like a bastard—it had been an innocent remark, and all he’d done was reinforce Karik’s dislike of him. Whatever Romi’s personal opinions about Karik, he was expected to behave much more fairly than that—he expected it of himself. But there was no chance to apologise. After the men finished their practical work, Karik took them back to the library to show them the beautifully illustrated scientific drawings done from the fresh
plants, and the way they were labelled—and how with improved knowledge and better specimens, the accuracy of the art improved. Finally, they were taken out to the large garden at the rear of the building and shown the plants from all over Periter which had been cultivated from collected seeds. As tea and pastries were served to them under a tree, Karik and a Prijian gentlemen answered questions and told them of the recent discoveries of drugs taken from foreign plants. Though the medics were passing familiar with the process, they were as fascinated by the information as any of the others. By the time Karik and Master Pitas were done, they were all very clear on the importance of the work they were embarking on. At last, Karik told them they were done for the day. They were getting to their feet when Romi noticed Master Kei coming towards them down the paths. “Ah,” Kei said, smiling broadly, “I was hoping to catch you all before you left. How was it, everyone? Did you enjoy being botanists for a day?” Romi answered on behalf of his men. “It was fascinating. Thank you for allowing us to see behind the scenes this way.” Kei shook his head. “Oh, no thanks are due to me—it was entirely young Karik’s idea. He set it up as soon as he got back.” “Then thank you,” Romi said, turning to Karik. “You’re welcome, captain,” Karik said neutrally, not really meeting his eyes. Kei frowned a little. “I find a task is always more enjoyable when you understand why you’re doing it.” “Yes, I agree.” Kei was still frowning, but then he smiled at them. “Well, don’t let me keep you. It’s an early start tomorrow. I think you’ll enjoy the experimental farm, and the owner always does a splendid lunch when we take students out there. You may as well enjoy yourselves now. No honey cakes in the outback of Andon.” “Then you’d better never go, uncle Kei,” Karik said, making an obvious effort to appear cheerful. “Thank you, gentlemen, ladies—thank you, Master Pitas.” The master bowed and took his leave, then Romi told the team to make their way to the front of the academy while he went to the stables and ordered up the carts. “Karik,” Kei said, “I’ll see you in my office. I just have a couple of things to do before we go home.” “Of course.” Kei gave his nephew an unreadable look, frowned at Romi, then walked off. A fine figure of a man, Romi thought absently, admiring Kei’s excellent bearing. Then he realised Karik was hanging back, as if he didn’t want to be caught walking with Romi. He turned to him. “I’m sorry, Karik. I shouldn’t have reacted in that way.” Karik still wouldn’t meet his eyes. “No, it was my fault, captain. It’s the kind of remark one can make to a friend, but it was unprofessional of me. There won’t be a repeat of it.”
Romi sighed. “Are you really going to call me ‘captain’ all year? Don’t you think that’s a little ridiculous?” He deliberately kept his tone mild and his expression friendly. Now he got the full force of Karik’s haughty glare. “Is it more ridiculous than your snap assessments and strange likes and dislikes, captain? I confess I’m having trouble working out what does or does not set you off.” Romi had never received such a cold and unfriendly look in all his life, at least not from someone his own age and so apparently harmless. He reminded himself that he couldn’t kill this man, and he had to work with him for quite some time. “Look, can we put that behind us? I can see you’re highly competent. I hope you’ll find me the same. The expedition is going to be on too intimate a basis for us to be hostile.” Karik narrowed his eyes, and his nostrils flared. “It’s not I who started this, captain. I don’t need your damn approval—I know I’m competent. On any other matter, I don’t want your opinion, and that includes making personal comments about my friends.” “Am I supposed not to try and mend a problem caused by your friend’s lack of teaching skills just because of your relationship? Why does Soza merit more consideration than you, or Pali, or Matu? My job is to make sure we’re all trained and ready. Soza wasn’t helping.” “I know that. You were right to take the steps you did, but it was your attitude I disliked.” Romi sighed again. “Look, Karik—there’s no kind way to say someone’s a rotten teacher. At least, if there is, I don’t know it. Your uncle’s the diplomat, not me.” Karik’s severe expression cracked quite suddenly. “Do you mean Arman? A diplomat? I don’t think so.” Romi spread his hands. “Then why castigate me for what he couldn’t do? I admit I don’t like Soza. I don’t like what he did to Netu, and he seems to delight in trying to make everyone else seem stupid. But he’ll be given the same fair treatment as the rest of you, and I’ll help him do his job as much as I can. It’s not a hanging offence to dislike someone.” For some reason Karik seemed startled, and then gave a slightly rueful smile. “No, it’s not. Very well, Romi. We’ll pretend we met today and put it all behind us, but you remember this—no one gets anywhere with me by running down my friends. If you have a problem that needs my help, you can guarantee to have it, but stay off the personal or we’ll be at odds.” “That’s fair.” He cleared his throat. “I better go fetch the carts.” “My uncle’s waiting for me. You did well today, you know. For a first attempt, it was very good.” “Thank you. But I think I won’t change careers just yet.” “No, I think being a soldier suits you better. Good day.” Well, that wasn’t very friendly, Romi thought in exasperation. He just didn’t know what to make of the man at all. The only thing to do was as Karik had requested—keep off anything remotely personal, and wasn’t that going to be fun trying to sustain over a year?
~~~~~~~~ Kei sat back in his chair as Karik came into his office. “All right, who poked the other one?” Karik winced and sat down. “Me. My fault entirely—I made a stupid comment and he reacted badly. I didn’t think—but you’re right, he must have had a misfortune in love.” He sighed. “I know why I upset him then. I just don’t know why he was hostile before.” “Can’t ask him?” “I don’t dare. If he says something unforgivable, then how will we work together?” Kei wagged a finger at him. “Come on, Karik, nothing’s that unforgivable. Maybe he’ll tell you when he’s got to know you better. He was genuinely impressed by your practical session.” “Unfortunately he wasn’t so impressed with Soza this morning, and wasn’t backward in saying so. I feel like the ball in a pooki match.” Kei laughed. “Poor Karik. You know, Soza can defend himself. Tell Romi to take it up with him.” “I can’t, Kei. Romi would just be horrible and blunt and Soza would be so offended and then I would be stuck peacemaking. Um, did you...?” Kei shook his head. “I tried. Maybe I was being too subtle. But I’ll try again, and so will you. With the lieutenant, I mean. It’ll be worth it. Don’t give up so easily.” “I won’t. But can we stop talking about him? I’m fed up.” Kei got to his feet and closed the book in front of him. “Come along then. We mustn’t be late for dinner. You realise Reis will be a little overexcited with all of us there.” Karik grinned. “I can handle it. I’ve missed him. I missed everyone.” “It’ll certainly make a difference for us to be talking to you instead of about you,” Kei said with a grin. “Let’s find Arman and we can go.” Captain Romi and his eccentricities occupied Karik’s thoughts only until they reached the House of the Gifted, and then he was simply too busy returning the enthusiastic greetings of his friends. “Karik! You still have the beard!” Reis, for once, allowed them to get to the front door under their own power, but then swept down the steps and took Karik into a suffocating hug. “Just practical, Reis—isn’t that right, uncle Arman?” “Indeed, nephew. But people always complain—they don’t know what it’s like to shave every day,” he said, winking at Kei, who stuck his tongue out. “If Karik had a lover, you can bet he would shave for their sake,” Kei said. “Beards are nasty, nasty things against the skin.” “Then when I have a lover, you’ll know because I’ll take it off,” Karik retorted.
Reis grinned. “Have you got someone in mind, Karik? Everyone should have a lover. Everyone should have two lovers!” “Are you corrupting my son again, Reis?” Pa came out onto the porch, his arm around Ma. “I swear, I’m going to have to forbid him to come to Darshek if that happens every time he visits you.” Reis pouted. “I was just saying lovers are wonderful.” “The right lovers are wonderful,” Ma said, nudging Pa in the ribs. “Will everyone stop talking about me and my completely non-existent lovers, please?” Karik said in exasperation. “And Pa, I’m too old for you to forbid me to do anything.” “He’s got you on that, Reji,” Kei said cheerfully. “They grow up so quickly,” Pa said in a mournful tone, though his eyes twinkled with mischief. Karik frowned at them all. “Are we ever going to be allowed to go into the house? I thought I was here for supper, not advice on my love life.” “Sorry, Karik,” Reis said, hugging him again and keeping his arm around his shoulders as he ushered him inside. “We’re in the indoor garden—Jes loves the birds.” “A budding naturalist, just like her Pa,” Kei said. Karik rolled his eyes. The child was eighteen months old—to her, birds were just pretty things that moved. As they walked through the house, Karik’s eyes were drawn to the large painting in pride of place in the main hall—the last portrait of Wyma, finished after his death, peacefully in his sleep, two years before. All the Gifted still mourned for Wyma in their own quiet, private way. Karik missed the old man, and he knew Reis had never really got over losing the only father he’d ever known. As Wyma’s personal choice to succeed him, Neka had been asked to take on the role of their head, though she had protested she was much too young. From what Karik had seen, it had been a good decision. Reis saw where his eyes had drifted, and squeezed his shoulder. “It’s like he’s still here sometimes, with that watching over us.” “I’m sure he does, in some way,” Karik said. “Now, tell me what you’ve been doing. I passed by the new infirmary—that’ll be a wonderful place.” “Did you know Meda helped design it? Kei suggested it so it would be a restful place—he thinks it will help people heal if it’s light and cheerful. I think it’ll be beautiful.” “I’m sure it will be,” Karik said as they followed Karik’s parents into the conservatory. The room was full of Karik’s gifted friends, and there was Mila holding Jes. “Hello, everyone.” “Karik!” Neka said with a little cry of pleasure, coming over to hug him and give him a kiss. “Beard,” she said sadly, rubbing her lips. “Oh, don’t you start,” Karik said in mock-irritation. “I told you, Karik,” Seiki said, coming over and greeting him warmly, before taking his hand, and getting him to sit next to her lover and their daughter. Mila immediately gave him Jes to hold. Jes
looked up at him with large, green eyes as she tried to recall whether he was safe to be with or not, but then she stopped looking so worried and smiled at him. “Where’s Gyo?” “Here, Ka-chi,” his friend said, coming out from behind a huge potted tree. “Jes dropped her ball.” He held a cloth ball up triumphantly, and she gurgled as he handed it to her. “How was it today?” “Pretty good. They’re a bright group of people. They really understood why I was showing them all that—I was half-expecting them to be bored, but they weren’t.” “Because you’re a natural teacher,” Kei said. “When you stop trailing around Periter looking for plants, I want you at the academy.” “Wait a damn minute, Kei of Ai-Albon,” his Ma said indignantly. “He’s trailing around Periter looking for plants for you, you ungrateful wretch, and when he’s done with that, we’ve got first dibs on him!” Karik looked at Gyo, who just grinned back and shrugged. Everyone seemed to be making a claim on him tonight. “They’re silly, aren’t they, Jes?” he whispered, giving her the tail of his braid to play with. At the sight of the blond hair, her face lit up with delight, and her chubby hands grabbed it immediately. “Ouch, Jeichi, not so rough! That’s attached.” “No complaints, nephew. I’ve got a bald spot from where she’s pulled all my hair out at the back,” Arman said. “You do not,” Kei said. “Don’t exaggerate. A few hairs, no more.” “I notice you keep your damn braid away from her,” his lover retorted. “Now you know how I manage to keep it so long,” Kei said sweetly. “Anyway, it just shows Jes has good taste if she likes the colour of your hair.” “It’s just different from boring old brown,” Mila said, letting her daughter take hold of her finger. “Your hair’s not boring,” Seiki said stoutly, leaning over to kiss Mila’s cheek. “Jes loves it too. So, are you really going to turn all those soldiers into scientists?” “It’s more likely than turning scientists into soldiers, at any rate,” Karik said with a smile. “I want to know all you’ve been doing,” Neka said firmly. “That’s why you’re here.” “So it’s not my sparkling company—you just want a progress report?” “And your sparkling company,” Meda said, giving him a dimpled smile. “Come on, Karik, we’ve missed you. Tell us everything!” Karik pretended to groan, which made Jes giggle at his silliness, and then began.
~~~~~~~~ Romi looked up as Kepi came into the barracks. “Finished?”
“Nearly. Matu said I was done. The others are still working on their surveys.” Romi nodded, and stretched. “You should spend some time at the butts. You need the practice,” he teased. His friend wasn’t their best archer—to be honest, Romi was the best on the team—but they all needed to be sharp. “I thought we could all get a few rounds in before supper, after the children leave.” “Young Karik going to come along again?” “I suppose he will. He’s been at most of the shoots.” “Not a bad shot for a civilian, is he? When’s that Soza fellow going to make an appearance? Is he too grand to be trained?” Romi didn’t say what he really thought. “Karik says he’s handling the research matters at the academy. I don’t expect to see much of him.” Kepi grinned. “You look heart-broken.” “Do I? I don’t mean to,” Romi deadpanned. While part of him resented that the man wasn’t participating in the team building and preparation, the rest of him was guiltily grateful not to have to make accommodations for his peculiar personality, or to have a reason to clash with Karik again. Kepi lay down on his bunk. Romi didn’t begrudge him a rest—he’d been working them hard, though they could have been ready in half the time they’d been allowed. Training, drills and archery practice were honing the team nicely, and he felt they were as fine a group as the Rulers could have wished for. Some of them were a little more adept at the botany, others at the map making and geology, but there was no serious weakness in any of them. Most important of all, they were working well as a team, and fast becoming good friends as well as comrades. There was a certain holiday feel with them having no other duties but to train, though the training was hard enough. Though he doubted any of them would want to do it for much longer, it was an enjoyable change from soldiering. Each night he wrote a brief report for Lord Arman, which Karik carried back to the house the following evening. Though he doubted Karik was reading the letters, Romi kept the reports as neutral as possible, as was his habit anyway, but there was no reason to fudge the assessment of their preparedness. “What are you looking at, Romi? Every time I see you, you’ve got your head in a report. Didn’t they do all the logistical planning before we got here?” “Just checking it all twice. If we freeze to death or starve, I don’t want it to be because I didn’t think of something. I don’t leave things to damn bureaucrats.” The main difficulty was in obtaining enough warm clothing—heavy winter coats, boots and gloves that could withstand the kind of bitter cold they were expecting all had to be specially made. Romi got to his feet. “I’ll have to catch you after lunch. We’re picking out the mounts. Tiko’s got some civilian, an expert on beasts, coming to give us some advice.” Kepi sat up and gave him a surprised look. “A civilian? Why do we need a civilian to tell us about army animals?”
Romi shrugged. “Beats me, but Tiko’s organising it. I’m not an expert on the damn things, and if we can get a bit of free wisdom, then that’s fine by me. Tell the others not to dawdle after lunch. We’re meeting those Andonese families, remember?” “I remember. See you later, Romi. He walked over to the main gate to meet Tiko, Karik and the animal expert. To Romi’s great surprise, the civilian turned out to be Karik’s father, Reji—a big, good-looking man, broad and tall, with a piercing intelligent gaze, a ready smile and a grip like iron, as Romi discovered when he shook his hand. The four of them went to the stables to examine the available stock, and while Romi and Tiko took a seat, Reji asked the stable hands to lead each animal out so he could check their feet, teeth, breathing and coat, and even lifting their stubby tails. Karik assisted his father, asking occasional questions, and pointing silently to this or that part of the animal’s body. Romi and Tiko let them get on with it, but after they rejected one beast which seemed no different from others that Reji had approved, Romi raised his hand. “Would you mind telling me what’s wrong with that one?” Reji glanced at Karik, who answered. “Low weight,” he said briefly. Romi gave him an exasperated look and Reji grinned. “A scrawny animal is a picky eater, captain. That’s fine here in stables, and when you’re not expecting tough conditions. It can even be an advantage in the heat, or if you want speed. But in Andon, you need beasts that will eat whatever forage they can get, ones that will keep the weight on so when the weather’s bad and they can’t feed, they still keep going. Basically I’m looking for placid, well-padded animals with good breathing and legs, and no sign of chronic infection or parasites. These are good beasts, mostly, but if I was running them, I’d cull that one for a start,” he said, nodded at the rejected one. “You’re a trader, I believe Karik said.” “Not anymore, not much. I’ve started breeding jesigs. I wouldn’t mind if someone would import a few of those pack animals they use in Andon, but they don’t like the heat, so maybe they’d be more trouble than they’re worth. At least for now.” Karik grinned at his father. “I’ll see if I can smuggle a couple of doigs back, Pa. Pack them in snow or something.” Reji patted his son’s shoulder. “I bet you would too, but I think the captain would object.” “Please, call me Romi. I can’t see why we can’t try and get a couple of animals if there’s no extra cost or trouble.” “Well, if you could, that’d be great,” he said, looking pleased and surprised at the offer. “I don’t suppose Arman will mind, if you don’t. Not worth risking anything over, but I’d love to get my hands on a breeding pair.” “I’ll see what we can do.”
After that, Romi paid close attention to what the two of them were doing, and Karik, perhaps realising the reason for it, began to explain their thought processes. “Breath smells clean, no lung rot.” And—“No good, Pa. Tight tendons—it’ll pull up in no time.” The coats were combed and the volume of hair checked to see that the beast wasn’t losing more than a usual amount of hair, a sign of age or illness. One animal was rejected because it was marginally scruffier than the others—Karik said it was possible it didn’t groom its coat properly and that made it more susceptible to parasites. Romi was impressed despite himself. He was used to assessing people this carefully, but not animals, and he was astonished how much information a dumb creature could give up about itself. Tiko watched everything with a benevolent smile—he seemed to be enjoying watching a master in action. At last twenty animals were chosen—slightly more than they absolutely needed, but it meant they wouldn’t have to rely on doigs, which were hardier but could carry far less weight. They’d have to be flexible once in the field, but now they had a good core of working animals. Tiko declared himself happy and insisted on Karik and Reji coming to the officers’ mess for lunch. It emerged that Tiko had known Reji since Karik was a baby, and the two took merciless advantage of this fact to tease him. “Pa,” Karik complained finally, after Reji regaled them with a story concerning an escaped pet lizard and a bottle of strong-smelling distillate. “The captain doesn’t need to hear all that.” Reji just grinned. “Sorry, son. Sorry, Romi—fathers and their boys, you know.” “Well, no, I’m not likely to, am I? You’re lucky, being one of us and yet being a father.” Damn, it was astonishing how this kept coming up to bite him. Karik and his Pa exchanged a look. “Yes, I am,” Reji said in a quiet tone. “More than you realise. But my apologies again. I get a bit carried away since I had a blessing I never expected.” Tiko cleared his throat. “Not that they’re always a blessing. My damn son, did I tell you what foolishness he’s thought up now?” He launched into a story about his son adding to his house, and putting in some new-fangled plumbing that Tiko thought was a complete waste of money and effort. In doing so, he managed to get them past a slightly sticky patch and the rest of the meal was peaceful. Finally they were done, and Romi stood. “You’ll have to excuse me, I’m afraid. I’ve got to meet Juizeigi before the children arrive.” “Children?” Reji asked. “I told you about that, Pa,” Karik said. “The captain’s been inviting local Andonese to come and meet our team, so we get to know their customs. Not sure why you wanted to see the children though, Romi.” “Well, none of us are parents, and if we’re in the settlements, it would be nice to know what Andonese children are like, and the games they play and so on. I didn’t think it could hurt, at least.”
“I think that’s a sound idea, “ Reji said. “Unusually imaginative for a soldier too,” he added winking at Tiko. “Oh, sit on a thurl, you hulking arse,” Tiko said mildly. “You better go, Romi. I’ll make sure this gentleman is escorted off the premises.” Reji stood and stuck out his hand. “Pleasure doing business with you, Romi. Now you keep up your side of the bargain and bring my boy back in one piece.” “I’ll do my best to bring everyone back,” Romi replied in all seriousness, shaking the offered hand. “That too,” Reji agreed. And with that, Romi took his leave. Reji seemed a solid, decent fellow, like the rest of Karik’s family, and Romi wondered yet again how Karik could be carrying on a double life under their noses. He couldn’t see Soza appealing to a fellow like Reji, or Reji not protesting about Karik walking away from his young family—something he’d never mentioned since that first time on the ship. Perhaps the situation was more complicated than Romi had assumed. He wasn’t going to ask about it, that was for sure—not when things were running as smoothly as they were for now. He hoped that by the time Soza was thrown back into the mix, Karik would have developed enough respect for him and such a strong bond with the team that he wouldn’t be so blind to his lover’s faults. Not that he was blind, exactly—but touchy. Yes, that was the word. If Karik could be less touchy about Soza, they might be all right. Romi would have to do what he could to make the subject of Soza less explosive. He wasn’t looking forward to the potential arguments the damn man could cause simply by breathing.
~~~~~~~~ “Thanks, Pa,” Karik said as his father prepared to leave. “I think we’ve got a good bunch of animals.” “Not bad for Army bred,” Pa said, unable to resist a poke at Tiko. “So that was the lieutenant. Seems a nice fellow. Good soldier, is he, Tiko?” “Came with the most amazing reports I’ve ever seen, Reji. Arman said they had to be too good to be true, but they weren’t. The man will make colonel before he’s thirty-five, I guarantee it. Not something I ever had an ambition to do, but I guess Romi’s making up for the other things in life he can’t have.” Karik had felt bad about that. “I know it doesn’t matter to all the gifted, but it does for a lot,” he said. “That’s why I wanted to help Seiki and Mila. I’d do it for anyone in that situation.”
His Pa put his hand on Karik’s shoulder. “I know how Romi feels—well, I do now, though when I was his age, I was sure children weren’t something I ever wanted. Maybe he’ll find a young woman and have a good friend to help them, the way you did with Seiki. I’ve known it happen, though mostly we gifted stick to our own kind. It’s simpler.” Karik nodded—his Ma had said the same thing often enough. “Hope so. He’d be a lot nicer if he was happier, I think.” His Pa smiled. “Come on, he seems all right to me. Maybe you just need to find some points in common. I’ll see you later. Tiko, supper tomorrow, right?” “Juli’s expecting all of you. Thanks, Reji.” His Pa waved and walked off—he’d hitch a lift back to the city, and knowing him, he’d probably find a friend driving a cart to take him. Tiko turned to him. “Where are you off to now, Karik?” “I should go and sit in with the children Romi’s bringing in, or at least talk to Matu about going to the cliffs tomorrow. I want to go to the archery practice later too.” “Matu’s not here, he’ll be back later this afternoon.” “Then it’s the children.” Karik was half beginning to wish he’d gone with his Pa—he had things to do at the academy and time was running out. “The children can wait. I wanted a word with you, actually. Come back around to the stables, there’s a nice spot in the sun and we can watch other people working. That’s my favourite pastime these days.” As promised, there was a bench against the stable walls, bathed in warm sunshine, and which gave them a good view of the beasts being trained in the large circular yard. It reminded Karik that Soza was on another riding lesson today—he’d said he was quickly improving. Karik hoped that was so—there would be a lot of riding on this expedition, and very little of it suitable for beginners, though the early part of the journey would be easier than the latter. “What’s on your mind, Tiko?” “Well, that little discussion with Romi and your Pa reminded me. You haven’t really done something like this before—I mean, been away from home for months in a small group of people.” “No, but I can’t see how it will be so different, other than the extra supplies we need to take.” Tiko smiled and shook his head. “It’s very different. When you have to live and work closely with others, you have to think about what you say and do all the time. Small grudges become major cause for complaint. Little irritations can make people come to blows. And when you throw homesickness and loneliness into the mix, it can really be hellish. I’m talking about morale, Karik. Low morale is the danger on a mission like this, as much as running out of supplies or illness.” “I know this. Why are you suddenly bringing this up now?” After all, Arman had been discussing this with Karik just a few days ago.
“Because you and Soza are going to be the only two civilians. There’s going to be friction there because you don’t think quite the way we do, though you do as well as any civilian ever could,” he added with a smile, but then he glowered at something he’d seen in the exercise ring. “Oh, pissing hells, I knew that corporal was going to fall on his arse, keeping a seat like that. I’d put him on extra duty for being so sloppy if I was his lieutenant.” “Tiko,” Karik said impatiently. “I know we’re civilians, but so do they.” “Yes, yes, but my point is that if you’ve got people with lovers left behind, friends, family, and so on, the fact you’ve brought a good...friend...with you might just make people a bit jealous, that’s all.” “Oh.” Karik hadn’t even considered this. “But I don’t play favourites.” “I know, lad, but sometimes perceptions get a little distorted. I’m just saying it’s something to be aware of. After all, you’ve seen how easy it is to spark ill-feeling.” “Yes, I have,” Karik said fervently. “I’ll keep an eye on it, I promise.” “Good. I knew I wouldn’t have to say much to you.” He slapped his thigh. “Right, I’m going over to see why my soldiers suddenly can’t ride a pissing urs beast to save their lives, and you can go and play with the children. I know you like that.” “I’d rather be at the academy, actually.” Tiko’s face crinkled up in a grin. “Sure you would. Go and play. Enjoy being young, it doesn’t last for long.” Karik shook his head as Tiko walked off. Damn man, as if he had time to mess around with children’s games. But if he had to.... He thought of Jes, and how he would miss her and her parents, and the rest of his friends. Tiko had a point. He would have to mention it to Soza—they weren’t just friends, but the only two naturalists. It wouldn’t do if the soldiers thought they considered themselves elite or separate in some way. He just hoped the soldiers didn’t take the opposite route and consider themselves superior to the civilians—that would get very tiresome.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Staying Power: 8 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ The intense preparation meant time passed far too quickly for Karik. As they entered the final days before departure, he had to apologise to Romi and say he would need to be away from the barracks almost until they were ready to leave. To his relief, the touchy lieutenant didn’t seem annoyed and even told him to make the most of the time with his family. At Arman’s request, Karik was also making a surreptitious assessment of Soza’s improvement. Fortunately, he seemed to be taking advantage of the chances he’d been given—he now kept an adequate seat on a beast and was as confident as a novice could be, and he could now manage a few polite phrases in Andonese, which was all that was needed. He’d also stopped being so overtly obsequious to Arman, to his uncle’s obvious relief, though Arman still didn’t care for the man and avoided him wherever it was politely possible to do so. Two days before departure, Karik and Kei had lunch at the academy to discuss the expedition— Kei wanted Karik’s frank assessment before they met up with Soza and Arman to go to the barracks and make a formal inspection of the preparations. “Now, Karik—how do you feel about it all?” Karik grinned. “Can’t you tell?” “Don’t be a brat, nephew. But if you’re cheerful enough to tease, I think you must be feeling confident. I take it you and Romi have found a way of working together? Still think he’s an arse?” “Maybe not as much,” Karik admitted, which made his uncle’s smile widen. “He’s very good at what he does, and he inspires respect and confidence. He’s not been rude to me for nearly two weeks.” “I told you just had to work your charms on him, Ka-chi.” Karik gave him a withering look for that stupidity, but Kei only grinned back. “I felt he was sound, and I’m glad to have that confirmed. Going on the reports I’ve had back, unless we sent researchers from the academy, I doubt we’d have more able field collectors than those men either. It sounds to me like they’re wasted as soldiers, some of them.” “Perhaps.” Karik could hardly wish them to be discontent with their lives as they were. “And Soza? He’s not been spending much time at the barracks—I suggested he should, but he said he was too busy. Unfortunate that he didn’t understand the importance of making an early start on becoming part of the team.” That had been Karik’s view too, although he’d had no complaint from Romi about Soza’s absence. “Well, he has had a lot to do, and he’s made good progress. He does understand the importance of the teamwork, I’m sure of it. We’ll have two weeks on the boat, don’t forget.” “Hmmm, well I hope he’s not going to spend it puking his guts up. He needs to get on deck sooner than he did last time.”
“Yes, it was all explained to him. I won’t run around after him.” “Glad to hear it,” Kei said. “Well, I can’t think of anything we’ve left undone. I can’t help but worry about it. I wish now I had arranged to go with you.” “I don’t see what you could do that we can’t. I’ve got a lot more experience than you have. You’re the healer, I’m the collector, remember?” Kei reached over to tug his braid. “Cheeky brat.” Then he sighed. “The house will be so empty when you go, and Reji and Jena and Gyo head home.” “Mila and Seiki will still visit. You’ll see Gyo and Risa in a couple of months, and Meran will be at the dormitory. I’m surprised you don’t want some peace and quiet.” “I think Arman might, just occasionally, but I’ve loved having you all here. You know, Reji and Jena have been talking about Jena taking up a position at the academy. Did she mention it to you?” “No,” Karik said, somewhat surprised. “I didn’t think Pa would want to leave the village.” “Well, he doesn’t, but he’s been talking to people here and so has your Ma, and they think it might be possible for Reji to split his breeding business between here and Ai-Albon, so they can spend half the year here and half there. Jena says she wants to wait until Meran finishes her training but then there’s no need for her to be a full-time healer. You know she’s a researcher at heart.” “But she’s also a healer at heart.” Karik couldn’t imagine his Ma not being a healer, but if they moved to Darshek, he would definitely see them more, and so would Jes. “It would be good for you, though.” “The only thing that would make me happier would be if I could move the entire village north, or the academy south,” Kei said, smiling. “And Myka could come up too when Jena went home. Banji is going to hand the mine work over to Pijli and her lot, and do something less strenuous. Since Keiji’s off with Misek, he can please himself now.” “Well, whatever makes it easy to see them all, is good for me,” Karik said. He packed up their plates onto the tray. “We’d better go.” “Yes. Karik, you won’t take any stupid risks on this, will you?” Kei said, suddenly frowning. “I’d never forgive myself if you were hurt or killed. The collecting is important, but not worth a life.” “Kei, I’m not going to put myself or anyone else in danger. Besides, fate’s tried to kill me already and failed. I’ll live to be a hundred.” Kei grinned and tugged his braid again. “Easily a hundred, nephew. Very well, I’ll hold you to that boast. Now, let’s go.”
~~~~~~~~ Romi was confident that Lord Arman and Master Kei would find nothing lacking in their preparations, but he still ran over all the details and the inventory once more before they arrived just to
be sure. He was glad he had done, since the Ruler seemed to be determined to examine every piece of equipment and question every choice that had been made. His men, standing smartly to attention, were asked to prove they understood what they had learned over the previous three weeks, and it wasn’t just Lord Arman asking penetrating questions—Kei also tested them, and genial though he was, it was clear he was a rigorous task master when it came to his profession. Karik stood quietly aside and let his uncles conduct their investigation, but he didn’t look worried, and even gave Romi a brief smile as if to say he knew there would be no fault found. Soza regarded the proceedings with a slightly bored and haughty look, as if it was all beneath his notice. At last Lord Arman straightened up after looking at Kepi’s perfectly made field kit. “Excellent, captain. Very good work, all of you. I’m proud to be sending such fine examples of Darshianese personnel as our emissaries.” Romi flushed with pleasure. “Thank you, my lord. It’s difficult to anticipate everything, but I honestly believe we’re as prepared as we can be.” “Yes, I’d agree with that. You can dismiss your men, but your medic needs to go with Kei and Karik to show them what arrangements he’s made. If you could stay with us, I’d be grateful.” “Certainly. Netu, please go with Master Kei. Everyone else—dismissed. You’re off duty now until tomorrow evening.” Lord Arman waited until Romi’s men had left, and Netu had gone out of the stores room with Karik and Kei. “Not that they don’t deserve it, I’m sure, but are you really able to stand them down until just before you leave?” “My lord, we’re drilled, trained and prepared, and they’ve not had a full day off since we arrived. Letters to families need to be written, they’ll want time to say goodbye to new friends and so on. Besides, some of them haven’t seen much of Darshek and she’s a fair city.” The Ruler smiled. “Yes, she is. And you’re quite right, they need time for personal matters. Juizeigi was impressed with your cultural acclimatisation programme.” “Hardly that, my lord.” “Still....” He glanced at Soza before continuing. “This is going to be an important project for us, captain. The alliance with Andon is crucial to Darshian as you well know, and the knowledge we acquire and share from this expedition will go a long way to strengthening it. I don’t need to tell you how causing offence or being arrogant to your hosts could cause irreparable damage to the bond.” “No, indeed, my lord,” Romi agreed neutrally, wondering if this was the Ruler’s way of warning Soza to behave or whether it was a general concern. “That’s why I wanted to be sure we were as familiar with customs and mores as we could be. Our people are well-mannered—at least for soldiers,” he added with a smile. “They know what’s at stake.” “Good. Now, I want a word with Colonel Leke. Would you wait for Kei to return, please? Soza, if you could do so?”
“Yes, my lord,” Soza said, bowing respectfully, but less formally than before. The man could be taught after all. Soza waited until Lord Arman had left before wandering over and looking at the neatly organised supplies. “Everything seems to be as we agreed,” he drawled. “I’m glad to see my instructions so well carried out.” Romi knew he was being baited, so bit back on the response that sprang to his lips. “Yes, and without close supervision too.” Soza smiled unpleasantly. “Come now, lieutenant, you don’t expect me to be down here holding your hand. Your soldiers are perfectly competent to organise such routine matters and I had so many requests for my time at the academy. Master Kei wanted to speak to me on a daily basis.” “How gratifying for you. Fortunately for us, Karik was able to lend us a hand in your unavoidable absence.” “Ah, yes, Karik is a saint for the patience he’s shown. Of course, if he hadn’t been able to escape back to the bosom of his family each evening, I suspect he wouldn’t have been quite so patient. I know he finds the military environment quite a trial. Something about the rigid way of thinking, he says.” “Is that right?” Romi said, stung despite himself. “Nice to know he can associate with people of such high calibre once he’s finished lowering himself.” Soza bowed a little. “I trust I have not offended you, lieutenant. After all, Karik and I inhabit a different world from you and your men.” “Sounds like it. I hope Karik found time to sort out his domestic situation while he was resting from such tiring company.” “His domestic situation?” “Regarding the mother of his child. Or have you kept your relationship secret from her?” Romi knew he was pushing it, but this man made him sick with his oily smile and oilier words. However, Soza’s smile merely widened. “Oh, her. Nothing to sort out, lieutenant. The child was the result of a brief liaison. The mother is a slutty little actress who’s now living with someone else. Took advantage of Karik quite disgracefully, so I understand. He’s being very forbearing about it, but I know the situation causes him distress. He doesn’t like to talk about it.” “Then perhaps you should refrain from doing so,” Romi said, keeping his temper under tight control. At least that explained why Karik’s family didn’t seem to condemn him for leaving his lover behind. It seemed Karik also knew what it was like to be deserted, though if the woman was what Soza said she was—and Romi wouldn’t condemn anyone on Soza’s assessment—Romi was surprised he had taken up with her at all. But then Soza was no prize either, so perhaps Karik generally just had poor taste in lovers. “I only mentioned it because you were so curious, lieutenant. I’m not one for gossip myself.” “Really,” Romi said. He wished the other three would return so he could put an end to this inspection. He wondered how in hells he’d restrain himself from strangling this blasted man over the
coming months, and could only hope that his company, once diluted by others, would be more tolerable. He also wondered if Karik had any idea what a two-faced little shit his lover was, and then decided he didn’t care. Karik was an adult and no innocent. If he couldn’t see what Soza was like, it wasn’t Romi’s job to enlighten him. He heard footsteps on the verandah and turned gratefully to the doorway, where Kei and the others appeared moments later. “Oh, he’s run off and left you,” Kei said cheerfully. “Sorry about that.” “Are you satisfied with the arrangements, Master Kei?” “Completely. Part of the brief is to pass on knowledge to the more remote settlements and help their local healers, and I think Netu and Karik have got that well in hand. Karik, the only thing we might add would be needle and suture packs—they won’t add much weight, and they’d be appreciated, I’m sure.” “Yes, I’ll collect some tomorrow.” “Then other than that, I think it’s as perfect as we can make it. Well done, Netu, Romi. I really am very impressed.” “Thank you. If you don’t need Netu, I’ll dismiss him.” “Please do. Thank you, Netu,” Kei said with a polite bow. “It’s been an honour, Master Kei. And I’d like to think about that training offer if I may.” “Of course! I’ve always thought all medics should have a chance to do full healer training and you’re a bright young man, I’m sure you’d manage it.” “Then I might do it. See you all later.” Kei turned to Romi. “Now where did that blasted man go off to? I said I wouldn’t be long.” “His lordship said he wanted a word with Colonel Leke,” Soza answered before Romi had a chance to. “Then I better find him. Soza, if I could have a word....” He nodded at Karik. “We won’t be long, just outside. Don’t let Arman wander away again.” “I won’t,” Karik said with a grin, going over and perching on a store box, and waving his uncle off. Romi heard the two men speaking in low voices out on the verandah. Karik got up and went over to the arrayed packs. “Well, all we have to do now is get on the boat. Are you excited?” “I suppose. Does the army know that Kei’s trying to entice its medics off on year-long training? I’m not sure Netu’s colonel would be happy to know about that.” Karik just smiled and shook his head. “Oh, he can’t help himself. He thinks everyone should train as much as they can, and things like colonels are mere trivialities.” “And you?” “Well, I can see an argument for that, but I believe medics have their place too and there’s no point in making someone unhappy with their position.”
“So you don’t think Netu has the brains to become a healer or do you think he’s too narrowminded?” Karik looked surprised. “Not narrow-minded, no. He likes rigid discipline more than I do, but then all soldiers do.” “That rigid discipline is what keeps us alive sometimes,” Romi snapped. “Having standard rules and procedures means we know what we need to do and how to do it, so we don’t waste valuable time and energy arguing over things instead of doing them. It doesn’t make us stupid.” “I never said it did, Romi—” “Not to my face, no. You accused me of harsh judgements, Karik. Beware of your own prejudices. You might be grateful one day when one of us rigid thinking soldiers saves your pretty little arse. Now excuse me, I’ll go and let your uncle know Master Kei is finished. Good day.”
~~~~~~~~ Karik was left with his mouth hanging open in shock as Romi stalked out of the stores room. What in hells was that all about? He went back over the conversation and couldn’t see where he’d accused anyone of rigidity, or been the least offensive. The man was insane, that had to be it. But was he dangerously insane? It was hard to know if these constant spats would make the expedition merely tiresome, or impossible. He just wished he knew what kept setting Romi off—one minute he was as reasonable as one could hope for, and the next he was like a spoilt child. The only thing that offered hope was that Karik had seen no evidence Romi was prone to violence or irrational decisions that might lead to danger. He also seemed able to keep his temper when other people were present, which, while it might be hypocritical, did mean the nastiness was kept to the two of them. He slumped onto a store box. It was too late to turn back, and besides, what would he give as his reason to cancel the mission? “Oh, Captain Romi doesn’t like me.” He’d sound like a child, and Arman would think him ridiculous, which he would be. No, all he could do was grit his teeth and learn patience. Romi wasn’t the worst arse Karik had ever met, just the most recent. Things had gone quiet outside. He put his head out the doorway and saw Soza was sitting on a bench. “Kei’s gone to look for his lordship,” he said with a smile. “I was surprised to see the lieutenant leave when he’d been asked to stay.” “Captain,” Karik corrected absently. “He, uh, had to go find someone. He seemed a little angry about something—you don’t happen to know what, do you?” “Perhaps it was because I told him that I didn’t appreciate him gossiping about you,” Soza said, his smile turning solemn. “Apparently he’s heard some talk about you and your daughter, and wanted to tell me how much he disapproved of the situation.”
“He what?” Karik said, utterly appalled. “What business is that to him?” “None at all, and I told him that, and said his disgusting opinions were not something I wished to hear. Really, Karik, soldiers can be dreadfully vulgar.” “Yes, they can,” Karik said angrily. “How dare he comment on Jes? Or Mila, or Seiki? The smallest hair on my daughter’s head is worth more than ten of him.” “I agree, and I know her parents would be horrified. I don’t think you should tell them about this.” “Of course I won’t. Why should I pass on the comments of a fool?” Karik was so disgusted he nearly spat. “Thanks for telling him off for me, though. He better keep his opinions to himself in future or I’ll have something to say about it.” Soza shook his head in disgust. “Personally, my dear fellow, I think the less you have to do with that man, the better. He’s all right for the coarse tasks, but he’s not up to anything subtle. I hope he won’t upset the Andonese.” “So do I. Do you think we should have him removed? It would mean delaying the mission by a month at least, but it would be worth it if he’s going to continue to cause this kind of ill-feeling.” Soza made a dismissive gesture. “I’m sure you and I can keep an eye on him, but I wouldn’t allow yourself to get too close to him. He seems to have no sense of loyalty.” “No, none. I won’t make that mistake, I assure you.” He saw Kei and Arman coming across the yard, and he forced himself to drop his anger against Romi, so Kei would not ask about it. But he was glad to know just what kind of bastard he was dealing with—and to think he’d been feeling sorry for him. Never again—the man didn’t deserve any kindness at all.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Staying Power: 9 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ He’d promised to be completely at his parents’ disposal for the last day and a half before departure, so they went straight back to Kei’s house from the barracks. Kei gave him a couple of worried looks, but said nothing, and once Karik was in the house, where Seiki was with his Ma and Jes, the sight of his precious daughter just made him melt, as it always did. He might not be her main parent, but he took his paternal role seriously. He wouldn’t let Jes grow up feeling she’d been rejected, and Mila and Seiki had been adamant that he was to be a part of her life as much as he wanted to be. He hadn’t, because of his job, been around as much as he would have liked, but he loved her just the same. How could that horrible man disapprove of anything that brought this lovely child into the world? He sat down on the floor where Ma and Seiki were playing with Jes and some little wooden animals Risa had carved for her. He began to set them in a row so she could knock them over with a giggle— things falling over were vastly amusing to her right now. “Karik, you’re frowning. What’s wrong?” “Nothing, Seiki, and I don’t want to talk about it in front of Ma. Gods, I’m going to miss you all.” “As we’ll miss you. It’ll be awful not even being able to send messages to you.” “I’ll be writing whenever I can but I don’t know how long it will take mail to get back to you. It’s just going to be tough for everyone. I’m sorry.” “Never mind, Karik,” she said aloud, perhaps because Ma was looking at them quizzically. “We’ll survive. Someone has to do the exploring, or we’d never learn anything.” “I just wish it wasn’t always you,” Ma said sadly. “You know Kei’s got all kinds of plans for you to go back to Andon, but I wish he’d remember how hard it is on us.’ “He knows, Ma,” Karik said gently. “But Seiki’s right—someone has to do it, and I’m good at it. I promise I won’t always be gone. Ten more years at the most.” “Ten,” she said, putting her hand over her heart. “Five? Please, son?” “All right, Ma. Five, tops. Kei wants me at the academy too, so I can hand it on to someone else. I can always train field collectors.” “Five’s not so bad, Jena,” Seiki said. “Jes will still be little then.” “But I won’t be,” Ma replied with a sad smile. “I just got Reji to stay home with me. I want my son too, before I get too old to enjoy it.” “You’re not old, Ma,” Karik said, giving her a hug. “Kei says you’ve not changed in twenty years.”
“He’s just an idiot then. I’m sorry, son—I always get a bit stupid when I have to say goodbye, you know that.” “I know,” he said. “Ouch,” he added, as Jes tugged on his braid for attention. “Trying to make me bald again, Jeichi?” He pulled her into his lap, and she smiled at his wagging finger. “I hope you’ve grown out of that habit by the time I get back.” “You were the same, Karik,” Ma said. “Reji said he didn’t know who was harder on his hair—the beasts or you. But you grew out of it eventually.” “I bet Pa was pleased I did.” Karik didn’t mind if Jes pulled every hair on his head out by the root. She was his beloved daughter, and a precious gift to his two good friends. That damn Romi could jump off a cliff and take his filthy opinions with him.
~~~~~~~~ Karik wished he could hold back time for just a little longer, since every passing hour made his Ma look more and more sad. But he couldn’t, and the only consolation was that the sooner he left, the sooner he could come back and make her smile again. Though her pain hurt him deeply, the work had to be done. New plants had to be found, new drugs had to be made. Too many people died from things they should already know how to cure, and whether one believed in Soza’s panacea or not, he didn’t want Jes to die of a preventable infection, or Ma or Pa to be crippled with arthritis without any relief from the pain. Darshianese medicine had saved his life five years ago and had saved many others. But too many people weren’t saved. He slept badly the last night, lying in the bed he shared with Gyo. It had been so good to see him again, Karik thought. Gyo had grown up, filled out, become a very fine young man. He was, it had emerged, very tentatively courting his cousin, Meran, though her sparky, brilliant intelligence rather overawed Gyo, who was a more contemplative sort. Karik was rather jealous that Gyo had found contentment so close to home. He wished the village offered all that he needed for his own selffulfilment, but it didn’t, just as it hadn’t for Kei. And just as there was always a small core of sadness in Kei’s heart because of that, that was to be Karik’s fate too. He rolled over, trying to get a little sleep before he had to get up at dawn to meet the ship. The soldiers were already on board, and he hoped that nasty lieutenant was finding his bed full of lumps and parasites. Karik wasn’t looking forward to the sea journey—the ocean between Darshek and Andon was infamous for its great rolling waves, and Soza was going to be ill a good part of the trip. Ill or unconscious, since Kei had decreed that since Soza was that sensitive to motion, there was nothing else for it but to dose him with pijn for the worst of it. Karik half-wished he could just bunk with the soldiers, but if there was a choice between the great arse and a puking Soza, he knew which he would choose.
He wasn’t usually troubled by anxiety, but over the past day, he’d found himself getting worried about this expedition, as if there was something he’d forgotten to do that was crucial, or something that he should know about that would affect it, and couldn’t work out. Possibly it was fretting about that arse, he thought. But he couldn’t shake it, and didn’t dare express it because everyone was already worried enough. He knew Kei could feel it, but his uncle had been discreet enough not to mention it, perhaps trusting Karik to say something if there was anything anyone could do, which there wasn’t. He just hoped it was because he’d never done anything quite on this scale before. But it was very tiresome and tiring, and by the time pre-dawn had arrived, he was as awake as ever. He slipped out of bed as quietly as he could, and pulled on his clothes—let Gyo and his parents sleep a little longer, he thought. Arman and Kei were already up, which perhaps didn’t surprise him as much as it should. Arman was cooking hotcakes, while Kei was huddled over a mug of tea, looking weary and sad. Karik slipped in beside him and gave him a hug. “I’ll be home before you know it, uncle Kei.” “I know, nephew. Unfortunately, I can feel everyone in the house and they all want you not to go.” “I’m really sorry.” “I know, I can feel that too. Never mind me, we’ll cope.” Arman gave his lover a worried look as he set a plate of his excellent cakes down on the table and then sat down. “I should have thought about the effect on you, Kei. I’m sorry.” “Don’t be an idiot, Arman. As if it matters in the scheme of things. We should be pleased—we’ve planned this long enough. If the damn Prijian sovereign hadn’t been so inconsiderate as to get herself killed, we’d have done this two years ago.” “I’m glad we didn’t, though,” Karik said. “For one, I’ve got a lot more experience under my belt and two, we’ve been able to prepare that much more carefully. And I’m not sorry she got herself blown up,” he added, serving himself a cake and pouring honey over it. Pira would be here in a minute and scold Arman for usurping her kitchen, but his cakes were nearly as good as hers, and Karik was hungry. “No one is,” Arman said with a slight smile, though he kept hold of Kei’s hand. “I wish she’d died in her sleep though—we could have done without the troubles that followed.” “The new sovereign’s at least a bit more intelligent,” Kei said. “And it might be horrible of me, but I think Mekus got all he deserved.” “Indeed. My father is still saying how glad he is to have lived long enough to see him get his comeuppance.” “Me too,” Karik said fervently. “Do you suppose he likes the Welensi Islands?” “Not even slightly,” Arman said with a devilish smile. “And more to the point, I very much doubt the islanders like him. I suspect they are making his life merry hell, and good luck to them.” “He certainly belongs in some kind of hell,” Kei muttered as he took a cake. “Eventually he will do,” Arman said. He got to his feet. “I better wake everyone.”
Kei was still staring into his mug of tea. “I’m sorry, uncle Kei,” Karik repeated. “Oh, it’s not really you, Ka-chi. I’m tired, didn’t sleep. Neither did you,” he added dryly. “I could feel you all night.” “I kept you awake?” “No, I was already awake. Do you want to tell me what’s worrying you or is it just nerves?” “Just nerves. And thinking of sharing a cabin with Soza.” Kei winced. “Ah, that. Well, maybe you’ll find the cure for seasickness in Andon.” “I wish we knew what caused it, and why some get sick and some don’t.” “Yes, indeed. That kind of puzzle has tormented me all my adult life. There is just so much we don’t know. Sometimes I feel I’m drowning in ignorance. That keeps me awake at night, I can tell you.” “You’ve done so much. We know so much because of you, and you’ve discovered so many new drugs.” “Never enough. That will be my epitaph. ‘Never enough.’” Karik shivered. “Don’t,” he said. “I have enough to worry about.” “And I’m not even going anywhere,” Kei said, patting his hand. “Your Ma says you promised her to give up collecting in five years.” “I was going to talk to you about it,” Karik said with a guilty start. Kei raised his hand. “It’s all right. I agree. If you wanted to give up now, I’d agree. You are important to so many people I love, and they need you. You’re just one man—you can’t carry it all. We’ve made a good beginning here, training those soldiers. They’ll be available to the next team, and they’ll train others in turn. Even if you don’t go yourself, never feel you’re not contributing. You wouldn’t say that about me, would you?” “No,” Karik said quickly. “Never.” “Well, then. Now, eat your breakfast and put on a cheerful face for your parents. And don’t worry about us. You’re the one with the hard job. We’ll keep each other safe until you return. Your little girl will be happy and healthy and still pulling out Arman’s braid when you get back.” “It’s a good thing Prijian hair grows so fast then,” Karik joked. “Perhaps I should encourage her to pull out your beard instead.” “Ouch, don’t you dare,” Karik said, stroking it protectively. He didn’t care for his beard much himself but it saved a lot of time, especially in the field, and he certainly wasn’t going to shave it before he got back. Maybe when he stopped being a collector. It was a solemn little breakfast—everyone being sleepy and sad, and wishing they had another day with each other. But all too soon, Pa stood. “Right, son, we’re going.” Karik stood and went to his mother, so he could kiss her cheek and hug her. “Love you, Ma. I’ll be home before you know it.”
“Better be, son of mine.” She kissed his forehead, and placed her hand over the tero stone around his neck. “Come back safe.” “I will.” Pira kissed his cheek and shed a tear when he returned her embrace. Gyo solemnly shook his hand, and then hugged him hard. “You look after Meran and Keiji for me,” Karik whispered. “You look after Karik for me,” Gyo said, and then gripped his wrist where Karik wore the bracelet made from hair of his village friends. “Don’t get on any strange ships.” Karik laughed. “I can promise that.” “Son, we have to go,” his father reminded him. “Yes. All right, everyone, no more long faces.” “Ask for something possible,” Ma said, but she forced a smile anyway. “Go before I make a fool of myself. Shoo.” Kei gave her a quick hug, and then he and Arman followed Karik’s Pa out to where the calash was waiting for them. His Pa climbed up beside the driver, and once the rest of them were safely inside, told the man to drive on. “Well this is cheerful,” Arman said. “I feel like such a bastard taking you away from them all. We can still call the mission off, you know.” “And why would we do that?” Karik snapped, more irritably than was polite. “As if soldiers all over Darshian don’t do the same thing every week, and with far less preparation and pampering. Am I supposed to be treated differently because of my family?” “No, nephew, certainly not,” Arman said, bowing his head in acknowledgement. “Then stop it, all of you,” Karik said. “I just want to get on the damn boat, go to Andon and come home. And I don’t want to cry, so stop saying stuff like that.” Kei just put his arm around Karik’s shoulders, and immediately, he felt his distress lessen. “Don’t, Kei,” he said, but less impatiently than before. “You’re already sad.” “So a little more won’t kill me, and then you’ll be able to march on board like a certain cranky lieutenant of our acquaintance, and no one will ever know you mind even a little bit.” Karik nearly told him not to talk about him either, but decided it was better not to with Arman looking right at him like that. “You all think I’m so fragile.” “I assure you we do nothing of the sort, nephew,” Arman said, fixing him with a steely gaze. “Kei, let him alone. Karik’s more than tough enough.” Kei obeyed his lover although he gave him a hurt look for it. Karik was grateful and at the same time, sorry. Kei had helped—he just resented that they thought he needed it. They were at the docks in ten minutes. Soza was waiting for them, and bowed politely. “It’s a fine day for a journey,” he said.
Karik glanced up—it was. Cloudless and bright, as fine a day as any he’d seen in Darshek. “In two weeks, we’ll really miss this,” he said, making a mock shiver. “Yes, but I think the snow has a beauty all its own, “ Arman said. Karik couldn’t imagine what thick snow would look like—he’d seen snow on the mountains, but never walked in it. Arman’s words reminded him of how much he wanted to do this, for all the sadness he caused now. Pa handed Karik his pack. “Now, remember what I said about coming after you in the next life, Karik.” “Yes, Pa. Look after my little girl and my big girls. And the men.” For an answer, he was taken into a crushing hug, and then set free. “I’ll come home to you, I swear.” “Good enough. Go,” Pa said gruffly. Arman just hugged him, and squeezed his shoulder. Kei kissed his forehead, then pushed him away gently. “Go.” Karik nodded. “Pa, take them back. Ma needs you more than I do.” “That she does, son. Remember you promised me those doigs.” “I did.” He waved and resolutely turned his back on his loved ones. Never got any easier, this business.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Staying Power: 10 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ It snowed the last day of the journey, but at least it wasn’t as unpleasant as the sleety rain, which had turned to ice on every surface and made walking on deck hazardous. There was little wind, so the snow fell in deceptively soft feathers, quickly covering Romi’s coat as he peered towards the cloudcapped mountains of the great Geriziq Range. That would be their destination once they set off from Tsikiugui though he sincerely hoped the snows would have melted a little before they got there. He was already freezing in his new winter gear. He heard someone stamping their feet to get warm, and turned. “And to think it will be spring in two weeks’ time,” he said with a wry smile to Jou, who pulled a face. “You’ve not been up here in the winter, have you?” “No, and now I’m wondering what in hells I’m doing here now,” she said, shivering and huddling into her coat. “I thought snow was supposed to be pretty.” “Well, it is—when it settles and the sun comes out. You’ll see. I think it’ll clear later. Maybe by the time we dock.” “I’ll be glad to get off this pissing boat, that’s for sure.” She joined him at the rail—the snow falling on the oily surface of the ocean had a kind of hypnotic quality, and the cold wasn’t too bad when the wind was behind them as it was. “Haven’t seen much of Karik this trip. I thought Soza wasn’t so sick this time?” “Don’t know,” Romi said briefly, not wanting to encourage discussion. To tell the truth, he was smarting over the issue of the young scientist, though he had not discussed it with any of his men, and to his knowledge, none of them had noticed the hostility between the two of them. Karik had been rarely seen, but when Romi had encountered him with any of the soldiers, the man had been civil and friendly, though not directly to Romi. If he was encountered on his own, Karik refused to speak to him or look him in the eye. It would be something he would have to address and soon. A team could not have one member being so cold to the leader, and it made no difference that he was a civilian. “Shame,” Jou said, looking back out to sea. “I like him, he’s good company. Can’t say the same about Soza, sadly.” Soza could be likeable enough, if he thought you were worth cultivating. On the face of it, Karik didn’t care about people’s position, but it seemed he was as disdainful of common soldiers as Soza was. They both needed a kick in the arse. As if being a soldier was any lowlier than a scientist or any other trade. “Well, we just have to work around difficult people, Jou. He’ll do his job, we’ll do ours.” “That’s what I always do. I’ve been thinking about that idea Karik mentioned.”
“What idea?” She turned to him and frowned. “Didn’t he tell you? He and Master Kei want to set up some short courses at the two academies—so soldiers can get qualifications in botany and natural history. Sort of like the proper healer course without the medical stuff. Three months long, he thinks. I think Master Kei’s already written to the fellow in Urshek about it. I thought he would have told you, since you’re so keen on us getting trained up.” “Ah, yes, it slipped my mind,” he lied. “Would make a change from bandaging blisters.” She shrugged. “Can’t hurt to get any training that’s on offer—then I can get to go on jaunts like this.” “Seiz won’t be too happy to hear that.” “Then Seiz can do the training and come along with me. I told him he should have learned Andonese, but would he listen? Men,” she said with disgust, making Romi grin. “Gods, I’m going down below, I’m freezing my nipples off.” “Thank you for sharing that with me, corporal,” Romi said, deadpan. She saluted him with an ironic flip and headed off for the warmth of the passenger deck. It was getting too cold for him too, and since there were still hours to go before they got anywhere near port, he thought he would see that the men all had things stowed and that the animals were ready for disembarkation. That was his excuse—actually, the animal hold was one of the warmest, if smelliest, parts of the ship, and he was chilled to the bone. Stupid really—he knew the danger from the freezing temperatures, and while he was trying to acclimatise, he had overdone it. He shivered as he went below deck, the relief from the wind and snow immediate. He could hear the quiet complaints of the beasts even before he entered the hold, and the familiar warm stink of urine, manure and farts wafted up in the chill air. He didn’t mind though, it was a smell that reminded him of the barracks and happy times. “Reisa? These bastards all ready to off-load? We’ll be in dock in about four hours, I’m told.” For a moment there was no response, and as it was darker in the hold, he had to wait until his eyes adjusted. Then he saw a figure standing up in the corner. “Reisa’s not here, captain,” a cool, drawling voice said. “Well, where is he and why in hells has he abandoned his post?” Now he could see Karik’s face, showing a slight flush of colour. “He hasn’t—he left me in charge while he went to get some tea and food.” “I’m surprised you’d lower yourself to look after beasts. It’s not your job—you can leave that to us soldiers. That’s our job, to fetch and carry and clean up after you, isn’t it?” Karik wouldn’t meet his eyes. “If you say so,” he said in a low voice. “Perhaps you’d prefer to take over, since you don’t think I’m up to the task.” “It’s not me thinking you’re not up to it, my lad, it’s you thinking you’re too damn good for the likes of us.”
Karik’s head snapped up. “Oh? I thought it was because you had set yourself up in judgement on my family, and disapproved of them.” “What?” Romi stared at him in irritated confusion. “Now what are you wittering about?” “You, captain. Making disgusting remarks about my daughter and her mother. As if you have the slightest right to comment.” Romi made an exasperated noise. “All I said was that I hoped you’d got the situation sorted out, and Soza informed me things weren’t as I supposed they were. I never made any comment about your damn daughter.” “Don’t you dare refer to her in that manner or in that tone of voice, captain Romi.” The man had drawn himself up to his full height and his eyes flashed with pure rage. “Don’t you even breathe a word about her that’s less than respectful.” “Or what? You’ll report me to your lordly uncle? I’m sure he’d believe you over some stupid ignorant soldier.” “My uncle adores my daughter, captain, and if I had told him what you’d said about her, he’d have thrown you off this expedition. For the sake of harmony, I did not. But repeat it, and you can be sure I will report you. You have no business discussing my personal life with anyone.” “But it’s all right for you to go home and slander your team mates. I see—one rule for you, one rule for us. I get it.” Karik’s eyes narrowed. “I have no idea what you’re talking about. Apart from you, I have the highest respect for my teammates. None of them have ever sat in judgement on my family or me. You’re the only one who’s done that, so you’re the only one I hold in low regard. But even you, I don’t discuss with other people. Anyone who says any different is lying.” “Maybe you don’t discuss us by name, Karik, but don’t deny you’ve been going back to your family and whining about the military mindset.” Karik gave out a short laugh. “Captain, my uncle complains about the military mindset. You know, the one who used to be a general. And from the display before me, everything he says is true. Now if you’re staying, please excuse me. I’ve got things to do. If you’re minded to complain to Reisa about leaving his post, then remember who I am and whose son I am. I can watch a few beasts for half an hour.” He started to walk out, but Romi grabbed his arm as he went past. “Look you little—” “Let go of me.” “I just—” For a moment it was if it was Karik’s uncle, not Karik himself, whose cold stare bored into him. “Let. Go. Of. Me.” Stung, Romi obeyed. “What in hells is wrong with you? Are you going to be like this all journey?”
But Karik was gone and Romi got no answer. He sat down on one of the low stools and cursed soundly for a good five minutes. Little shit. Pissing arrogant little shit. What was all that about? He’d never said anything about his daughter.... The realisation hit him. Soza. Pissing Soza. Romi hit his head against the wall, but not too hard so he didn’t startle the beast next to him. What other charming garbage had he been saying to Karik? And now he thought about it, he only had Soza’s word for Karik’s opinion about the military. He would have to have another word with Karik, but this time keep his temper. He’d really not displayed the finer qualities of an officer in that exchange. He sat lost in thought until Reisa startled him. Mindful of Karik’s last barb, Romi refrained from ticking Reisa off for leaving his post, since in strict point of fact, Karik was as much responsible for the care of the animals as anyone else on the team, and had never shirked any duty along those lines. It was only Soza who had made it clear he would be doing none of the menial duties, and since arguing with him would involve talking to him, Romi hadn’t pressed the point. It wasn’t like he would do them properly anyway. He checked with Reisa that the animals were all in good shape, and then went to see that everyone had their packs squared away. By the time he was done, and back on deck, it was sunny again, and the clouds lifted for a few minutes from Mount Arzha, filling him with the same sense of wonder as when he had first seen this truly astounding volcano. It was so tall that its permanently snow-capped peak was rarely visible, and even as Romi watched, clouds descended to obscure it once more. It reminded him of why he had wanted to return to Andon. It was a land of majesty, of mystery and excitement. A man could make a mark there, and spend a lifetime exploring without learning all its secrets. It was at moments like this that he almost envied Karik his peripatetic life, answerable to no one but the academy, and choosing his own path for discovery. Chances to explore like that were truly rare in the military, which was why he had immediately seized this chance. And he was messing it up, he thought, growling at his own stupidity. It shouldn’t make a difference if Karik was a civilian or not. All he had to do was assert his authority and start behaving as if the respect he wanted was actually deserved. And to stop listening to pissing Soza.
~~~~~~~~ “Now that looks like a lieutenant Romi scowl if ever I saw one,” Soza said as Karik slammed back into their cabin and threw himself into a chair. “What’s he done now?” “Oh, just been his usual self. A great hulking arse,” Karik said bitterly. “Sorry, I shouldn’t take it out on you.” Soza came over and laid his hand on Karik’s shoulder. “Nonsense. What are friends for if you can’t talk about what’s bothering you? I’m a little surprised he’s pulling your tail just before we start the expedition for real. He doesn’t seem to have the slightest sense of how to manage people.”
“Not civilians anyway,” Karik muttered. He looked up at Soza and made himself smile. “Don’t mind me. Have you been up to see Mount Arzha? The sailors were saying you sometimes get a great view from here if the clouds lift.” “I’m sorry, I just had an idea for a new paper and was scribbling a few notes down.” He lifted the notebook. “I thought I might as well make the most of the chance for some quiet work. I dare say we’ll not have much chance on the trail.” “No, probably not, and precious little peace in the evenings.” Karik scowled as he remembered they would have to share one big tent with the soldiers—and that great arse. “In the settlements we might have a chance, and we’ll probably spend at least a week in Visiqe.” “I hope so. I confess I’m very curious to see that city. So many legends and stories, I don’t know whether to be excited or fearful.” Karik grinned. “I don’t think there’s much to be afraid of. I know it’s supposed to be the richest city in Periter, but it’s in the middle of nowhere. It’s probably just legendary to those who spend all their lives in a settlement of thirty people. It’s like when I first came to Darshek—I thought it was the most bewildering, amazing place I’d ever seen, and now it’s just one of my homes.” “We can get used to anything, I suppose,” Soza said with a smile. ‘“I wonder how long it will take to get used to the cold?” “I was wondering that myself. Probably we’ll not really get used to it, but the weather will be warming up steadily from now on.” “Karik, it can still snow for the next three months, you know that.” “Well, yes, but it will still be warmer, even if it’s below freezing.” He laughed at Soza’s comical shudder. “Come on, if the Andonese can do it, we can do it. Men of Darshian and all that.” “Indeed. But while we have a little privacy, let me show you what I was thinking of putting into print.” Karik let his temper cool as he got caught up in Soza’s new ideas, but part of him still seethed over the way that horrible man had spoken about him and Jes. That lieutenant had better be sure he would be reported for his discourtesy—that was no way for an officer to behave. To think he’d suffered all that because he’d offered to help Reisa. At least the other soldiers welcomed him and let him be part of the team. It was only Romi who kept making this idiotic distinction between civilians and soldiers—and where had he got this notion that Karik had been insulting his team? He’d done little but praise them, even the great arse himself. Most likely it was his own sense of inadequacy fuelling this hostility, just as it had done for so many of the fools who’d decided that picking on a small Prijian boy would somehow make them look like big men. Well, Karik would show the arse that his opinion made no difference to him at all, and he was damned if he would change his behaviour in the smallest matter. “Karik? Am I boring you?” “Gods, no, Soza, not in the least. I was just...wondering if the affinities aren’t stronger with the Kemis group. If you look at the seeds, I mean.”
“Hmmm. Possibly. Yes, I see what you mean, but if you consider the leaves....” He forced himself to concentrate, and succeeded so well that he was truly startled when a knock came on the door and Sibu told them they were coming into the port. Karik and Soza had to hastily clear up their notes and papers and get their packs together. Karik double-checked that Soza was wearing his new winter gear correctly, and had all the layers on that he should—the bulky clothes felt incredibly awkward to both of them, but he had already felt the iciness of the bitter wind and knew they were necessary. Soza had avoided the deck, and so had yet to really appreciate what the weather in Andon would be like. One of the things that lieutenant Romi had been relentless in drilling them in was in how to handle the cold, signs of hypothermia and frostbite, and had backed the lessons up with anecdotes from the Darshek-dwelling Andonese. But there was just no substitute for experiencing it oneself, and the time was now at hand. The soldiers were all on deck as Soza and Karik came up, and the great ship was already in its moorings, the sailors busy throwing ropes and lowering anchors. “Blessed gods!” Soza said, his breath puffing out in huge plumes. At first Karik thought he was shocked by the cold, but then he saw his friend was just amazed by the sight of the snow, which covered all the low roofs, the streets, and to the north, the huge mountain range they could just dimly see through the lowering clouds. “How extraordinarily beautiful.” “It is,” Karik agreed with feeling. Jou, hearing their words, turned and smiled. “Not much like the dry regions, is it?” “No, it’s not.” It was more wonderful than he had ever imagined it. “It hardly looks real.” “The cold’s real enough,” she said, hunching into her coat. She wasn’t the only one—it seemed the only one of the soldiers not affected by the cold was the lieutenant, staring haughtily ahead, proud and tall, apparently uninterested in anything or anyone around him. Arse. Karik and Soza walked off behind the soldiers who marched smartly down the gangplank. There followed some confusion, and rather too long a time standing around in the bitter cold, until a runner could find their Andonese contact. Karik had got so used to Neka and Seiki forewarning people when he arrived in Darshek, that he’d forgotten what it was like when people couldn’t know he was coming. He was beginning to wish he was back on the boat in the animal hold, but finally an Andonese soldier, the red armbands on his coat the only thing distinguishing him from the dozens of other people milling around the docks, came walking over, and bowed to lieutenant Romi who returned the gesture. Then the two of them embraced like brothers. “Wepizi! I didn’t know you were still in Tsikiugui—I thought you’d gone north!” “Ah, been north, come south, my friend,” the Andonese said, and then turned to the rest of them. “Welcome, good friends from Darshian,” he said in heavily accented but easily intelligible Darshianese. “I am Lep Wepizi, at your service.” He bowed formally. Karik, like the others, returned the bow.
So this presumably would be their liaison—a friend of Romi’s, which might be a good thing or perhaps not. Romi, for his part, wasn’t wasting time on introductions. “Wepizi, we better get the beasts off the boat.” “Certainly. Let me have one of your men to direct matters, and I’ll have our stable hands make sure you meet up—we’re going to the main barracks.” Romi signalled to Reisa, Wepizi likewise to someone behind him who Karik hadn’t realised was a soldier. He wasn’t even sure if it was male or female—the bulky clothes made everyone anonymous, and disguised weight and sex quite effectively. The Andonese soldier went back on board with Reisa. “Your personal gear is all you need for now,” Wepizi said. “The ship will be in dock for several days, and your stores will be brought to the barracks tomorrow. Your requested supplies are waiting for you, and we can depart the day after, if the weather holds.” “We’re in your hands, Wepizi,” Romi said. “Unless our scientists object?” He turned and raised an eyebrow at Karik and Soza. Karik didn’t even bother translating the question for his friend. “Whatever Lep Wepizi advises is of course what we should do, captain,” he said with cold politeness. “I have no doubt we are in excellent hands,” he said with a little bow towards the Andonese officer. If Romi wanted to look like an arse, then Karik would happily help him to complete the picture. Wepizi looked confused, as well he might, but at Karik’s words, he smiled. “Most kind, my friend. Ah, but I wasn’t aware any Prij were joining this expedition.” “They’re not,” Karik said with a tight smile. Romi clapped his friend on the shoulder. “Our Karik is a man of mystery, Wepizi. Can we get out of the cold, please? My balls are falling off.” “You’ve got soft, my friend, too soft. You should roll naked in the snow for a bit, toughen you up. Your balls will crawl back inside your body after a bit and you won’t feel them at all.” Romi wasn’t the only man who winced, Jou and Sibu laughing at their reaction, and Wepizi grinned. “Now, come with me. I know exactly what you will need to warm yourself up.” It was only half a mile to the barracks, but by the time they got there, Karik felt like he’d walked ten, so intense was the cold that froze the air in his lungs and made every breath torture. The icy ground, snow hard packed by the passage of humans and animals, was dangerous and slippery, almost impossible to stay upright on. Very few of them had any experience of walking on snow or ice at all, and soon they were clutching at each other to stop themselves falling. Soza looked utterly miserable as Karik tried to keep him upright. “Is there some trick to this?” he muttered. “Not that I can see,” Karik said. Where the snow was less compacted, it was easier, but the ice was impossible. He wondered how the beasts would manage. At least outside Tsikiugui they shouldn’t suffer this problem, and as spring approached, hopefully the ice and snow would decrease. No one had told him about this part.
The barracks were nothing like as big or as solid looking as the Darshek ones, which were constructed out of stone. Arman and Jezinke had both told him of the risk of tremors and earthquakes, which was why there were no tall buildings to be seen at all, and many seemed to be the kind that would be easy to replace if they fell down. The Tsikiugui barracks were wooden and rather shabby, and Karik shivered, wondering if they were as cold and barren on the inside as they seemed to be on the outside. A high wooden palisade surrounded these barracks, and they had to be admitted through a huge gate, behind which activity bustled every bit as much as it did in Darshek. The soldiers didn’t seem to care about the cold as they went about their business. Wepizi didn’t give them much chance to look around, and as the light was going already, Karik was glad to get indoors. They were taken to an entrance hall, and requested to change into their indoor shoes before they were allowed into the large main room itself which seemed to be where the other soldiers ate, rested and slept. There were no bunks, just pallets and furs rolled up against the wall. The soldiers already in the hall were sitting on benches close to an enormous circular stove in the middle of the room. The air was fuggy and almost solid after the crisp cold outside. Wepizi asked the soldiers near the stove to make room for the visitors, and made general introductions. “Now, drizu for you all, hot food and then the steam room, yes?” There was a collective nodding. Karik was most curious to see a steam room, and from what he’d heard from his uncle, it would be just the thing they needed after a long journey and the cold walk. But that was later. They were told to stow their packs against the wall, and generous mugs-full of drizu, the famous Andonese spicy tea, were doled out to them. In very short order, they had all warmed up enough to find their heavy coats and gloves a burden, and then discovered the purpose of the pegs that were arrayed on every wall. He also now understood why the soldiers who’d been in the hall when they’d arrived were sitting in shirt sleeves—with the stove, the tea and the constant arrival of more soldiers finishing their duties for the day, the room was becoming almost sweltering. Despite its wooden construction, he could tell it was solidly built, with high, rather small windows and a central ceiling vent through which the stove’s chimney protruded. On the whole, it was a rather strange cross between sleeping indoors and being outdoors. Now they had a chance to relax, he could examine their liaison a little more closely. He was somewhat older than any of their team, perhaps in his early thirties, but still a handsome man with a winning smile, and a mischievous twinkle in his eyes that reminded Karik of Kei. He was also extremely tall, taller even than Romi who was enormous. Unlike many of the Andonese in Darshek, Wepizi was clean shaven—so were all the other male soldiers, Karik now noted—except for a rather elaborately shaped moustache, which he stroked from time to time as he talked, like a pet. Already he liked this man, and was delighted at the friendliness of his soldiers towards their team, civilian and military alike. It boded well for their expedition. He sat back and smiled to himself. He was in Andon at last, and the great adventure had begun.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Staying Power: 11 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Gods, it was good to see Wepizi again. Still the same rascal, it seemed, as he listened to his friend tease his visitors. Romi had stayed with Wepizi and Lema in their home on his down time during his Andon stay, and had been shocked to learn of her death from a sudden infection. He’d had some very painful letters from Wepizi after that terrible loss, but it seemed now he had got past the worst of his grief. The drizu was good, warming a man from the inside rather like the Prijian pijo, but without the cloying richness. Between it and razika, the fiery Andonese spirit distilled from grain and tree sap, the deep cold of this land could be kept at bay indefinitely, and he could see his team relax as they warmed up. Karik was the subject of a few curious looks—Romi decided not to enlighten anyone unless directly asked as to why they had a Prij with them. Soza looked bewildered and a little out of sorts— perhaps he was put out at not being able to understand what was being said. Well, that was Karik’s problem, Romi had decided. If Soza had wanted to put himself forward when he didn’t speak Andonese, that was up to him, but Romi wouldn’t make everyone accommodate his inadequacies. At least, not when it wasn’t life or death. The hall was filling up—the barracks were organised into groups of fifty soldiers to a set of sleeping quarters, and it looked like the full complement was here now. Before long, the rich smell of heating meat stew permeated the thick warmth of the hall, and Romi realised he was actually hungry. The food on the boat had been indifferent, and their last meal had been a long time ago. He’d been looking forward to some good Andonese cooking. He hoped Karik and Soza liked their food spicy. The room was now very crowded and noisy as soldiers took their place to eat the evening meal. Though the sleeping quarters could seem chaotic the first time one experienced them, they were actually run efficiently. Food was cooked in a central kitchen and brought to the quarters in huge containers. Serving was done on a rota, and food delivered in a strict order, regardless of rank. Tables were transformed from boards and trestles, and cleared away quickly after the meal to be stacked against the walls. Cleaning was also done on a rota, and utensils were stored compactly and tidily in compartments under the stove. Warm living space was always short in Andon, and people got used, at least in the winter months, to living at close quarters without wasting effort or taking up more than their fair share of room. It would be even more cramped in the tent. As he talked to Wepizi, he kept a surreptitious eye on Karik and Soza. He admitted to being curious as to how their civilians were finding it all, though he would never ask. Doubtless Karik would share his thoughts with one of the soldiers and Romi could find out that way. He doubted he would ever be able to have a casual conversation with the man, and though he admitted it was partly his fault,
part of it was Karik’s superciliousness, of which Romi had experienced more than the rest of the team had. Maybe the pride would get knocked out of him on this trip. He wasn’t the only one with a hearty appetite, but at last, the generosity of their hosts sated even the strongest hunger and bowls were surrendered to the cleaning crew. Wepizi called for another round of tea while the meal settled. “You’re lucky, my friends,” he said, sitting back and grinning. “We’re having a mild winter this year.” Karik stared. “Mild? Are you joking?” “Yes, he is,” Romi couldn’t resist saying. “Don’t tease, Wepizi. I’ve been up here at this time of year and the snow wasn’t so thick then.” Wepizi laughed and stroked his moustache. “Ah, caught, caught like a fish. Sorry, Karik, I embellished the truth for humour’s sake. It’s been a cold one. But spring is on its way and that’s no lie. We can go from snow as high as a man to green grass in a week. Our seasons turn fast in Andon.” “So you’re not expecting an unusually difficult journey?” “Well, as to unusual....” Romi shot him a warning look—Wepizi could get a little carried away with his teasing. “No, my friend. Your beasts may not enjoy the first two or three weeks but that is the easier part of the route. By the time we enter the low country, the thaw will be well underway.” “You think the beasts can handle snow this thick?” Karik seemed rather worried. “Perhaps we should have used doigs instead.” “No, it will be fine. I would not lead you into danger, I swear upon Sephiz.” “Of course you would not,” Karik said with a graceful bow of his head. “My apologies if I implied otherwise.” “None required at all,” Wepizi said with a broad smile. “Now, we must bathe. Bring your clean gear, and you can use the laundry facilities tomorrow. Then for the rest of the journey until Visiqe, you will have to learn to love your own stink, I’m afraid.” Romi saw Soza apparently ask for a translation, and then watched his face fall as Karik delivered the bad news. Welcome to the reality of trail life, he thought not without some pleasure at seeing the pompous bastard’s reaction. But he carefully showed none of this in his own expression—he had to play the diplomat, a role at which he had been failing badly. They had begun their mission, so he needed to stop sniping at his civilians and accept them, faults and all. It was like having a team member with an injury—a good leader worked it into his plans, not pretended it didn’t affect them. Soza was just a broken leg he had to accommodate. As to what injury Karik was...well, he was more like a headache. Annoying but not debilitating. Romi could handle headaches. The third great comfort of Andonese life were the thermal springs that made living in this extreme climate almost pleasant—it was not by chance that any major settlements were usually founded over hot springs, and where they were not, there was usually some other compelling reason like access to a fast flowing, ice-free river, and in such cases, the residents had to make do with wood stoves alone, a poor substitute for the endless heat of the thermal springs. Tsikiugui owed its existence to the warmth
of the underground vents which kept its waters free of ice and made it a year-round harbour. The barracks, like every other household in Tsikiugui, tapped the power underneath the ground to heat water and warm the buildings under the flooring. The hot springs also provided the peculiarly civilized luxury of the steam room, of which Romi had become very fond on his previous visit. But first, two weeks’ accumulated grime had to be sluiced off. Jou and Sibu went to use the women’s facilities, while the rest of them followed Wepizi to the men’s washroom. Again, it was a model of efficiency. Drying cloths and soap were dispensed, dirty clothes collected and stored for them, and clean ones put on hooks. Then they went into the main washroom and clustered around large barrels of heated water to soap and rinse off. Naturally Karik and Soza managed to avoid sharing water with him, but Romi was curious to see what Karik looked like naked. The reality surprised him. Slightly built he might be, but his musculature was far from delicate—in fact, he was as wiry and tough looking as any of Romi’s soldiers. Nothing like flabby Soza and his skinny legs. Karik was small but perfectly formed, even down to the neat reddish blond curls around his cock. Almost perfect—Romi was shocked to see a hideous scar, clearly of some years’ standing, which defaced the flat stomach and lower chest. If he wasn’t mistaken, that had been a life-threatening injury and he wondered where on earth someone who lived such an unexceptional life had got it. Perhaps a riding injury? Or a carcho attack? He thought the latter was unlikely, given the placement of the scar. He would have to get someone to sneakily find out the story of it. He was careful not to let Karik see him looking, or to show any overt curiosity, since staring in a public washroom was simply rude and led to misunderstandings. It didn’t stop Wepizi’s frank interest though, and when Romi caught his friend’s eye and gave him an enquiring look, Wepizi just grinned but said nothing. It was so good to be clean, and he luxuriated in ridding his hair of grease and dust. Managing long hair in such a climate was hard, he knew that, which was why most Andonese men and even many of the women, kept their hair short, the better to dry it quickly in the cold. Wepizi, seeing them all struggling with their braids, signalled to one of the attending soldiers and more cloths were brought for them to wrap up their hair in. “I recall this problem now,” he said, his eyes twinkling. “Such a lot of fuss for so useless an adornment.” “And how long do you spend in the mornings grooming that object under your nose?” Romi snapped back, which made Netu, standing near them, grin. “I think it takes less time to curry a beast than you take to shape that hideous growth.” “My moustache is my pride, you heathen. If it was not wise for me to have it, the benevolent god would see fit to make it fall out.” “And so he must want us to have our braids. Hanged by your own words, Wepizi.” Wepizi bowed. “And so it is, so it is. I am a sluggard when I joust at wits with you.” There was a suspicious sound behind Romi, but when he turned, he saw only innocent expressions, and on Karik’s face, a cool, unreadable look. Cheeky bastards.
When they were cleaned to their satisfaction, Wepizi led them to the steam room. Just as the cold outside was like a slap to the face, the humid heat here felt like they were walking into a wall. Wepizi walked in unconcerned, and told them to sit where they liked. Soza was about to sit on the bare bench, which would have been amusing, but Karik warned him to put his cloth down first. Once they were settled, Wepizi clapped his hands with pleasure. “Now, is this not luxury, my friends? Now, let me make an offering to Sephiz in thanks for your safe arrival.” He laid fresh conifer branches over the hot rocks in the corner of the steam room, filling it with the clean sharp scent of the forests, cutting through the steam and inviting them to breathe deeply. Then he took the ladle attached to a small barrel on a shelf, and dipped out some liquid. “Oh, benevolent Sephiz, all honour and gratitude be given to you for the blessing of our friends,” he intoned, then threw the liquid onto the stones. It sizzled immediately and threw steam up into the air, making them cough. “We, your children, thank you for your bountiful gifts.” Within moments, Romi felt himself relax as he might have done after a pint or two of good beer— as he’d already discovered on his first visit, alcohol dispensed in this manner had a way of going straight to the head, if only briefly. Wepizi was wafting steam in his direction and inhaling deeply with obvious enjoyment. Karik looked rather overwhelmed by the alcoholic steam, and had gone a deep pink, but didn’t seem to mind the sensation. Soza couldn’t stop coughing for a least a minute, and then shot Wepizi a look which clearly implied he thought the Andonese had just tried to kill him. “Is it not good, my friends? Truly, razika is a wonderful gift from Sephiz.” Gift of the deity or not, it was a congenial habit. Drinking alcohol of any kind was forbidden in the barracks, and public drunkenness frowned upon as an act of poor self-control. But sitting in the steam room and getting ever so slightly intoxicated with one’s fellows served the same purpose as going for a beer or two after the day’s duty was over, and in this climate, was a good deal more pleasant. Romi stretched out, using the heat to ease the stiffness in his muscles. He also took note of the changes in his friend. Wepizi looked thinner, and behind the ever-present smile, sadness lingered in his dark eyes. Lema’s death had been such a tragedy—she had been a truly kind and loving woman, a perfect foil for Wepizi’s mischievous, cheerful nature. Romi had envied their happiness, but its loss had broken Wepizi’s heart, possibly irreparably. Now he wished he’d been more assiduous in writing. The problem with distance was there was so little he could do for his friends, but at least he would have several months to keep Wepizi company now. Perhaps he would find a little peace in the wilds of his own country. More men came in as they took their turns at the washroom, and every few minutes, someone would throw a small amount of alcohol onto the rocks, making a little bow as they offered the evaporating spirit in honour of Sephiz. All the Andonese Romi had ever met were deeply devout without being po-faced about it. It was an attractive religion, demanding nothing of its believers other than gratitude for the many good things in life, and that all acts be carried out with love. To live without love, to act out of hate, were the worst sins in Andonese culture. The Andonese never questioned whether a relationship was right or moral—all they ever wanted to know was whether it was
based on genuine, mutual affection and consent. Hence their objections to brothels—sex without love was deemed an offence against their god’s gift of life, and a sign of a poorly controlled appetite too, though the Andonese were practical enough to understand the need for physical relief. The Andonese were moderate even in their condemnation of immoderation. The steam room was an important part of the social interaction for the Andonese, and the same was true in the barracks, so it wasn’t unusual for the men to spend an hour or more lounging around, talking and relaxing. Romi had been looking forward to doing just that, so he was rather annoyed, after a very short time, to notice Karik looking worried, and to then realise the cause was pissing Soza. “Are you all right?” he asked the man, who had gone rather red and was fanning himself frantically. “The heat—I can’t breathe....” Wepizi sat up, his expression concerned. “Ah, one’s first time can be difficult. Please, Romi, bring your friend out to the cold bath.” Karik looked to Romi for guidance, and with an impatient flick of his hand, he indicated for him to bring the bastard along. “Men, take your time. Enjoy it while you can.” There was, after all, no reason to cut everyone else’s relaxation short. Wepizi led them to where cool, though not icy water, stood in a plunge bath, and showed Karik by example what to do. Romi followed, shuddering at the shock which made his heart race. Soza, of course, took this fresh surprise as mortal offence. “Blessed gods, give me some warning next time,” he snapped as he got out of the water almost as quickly as he’d entered it, wrapping the towel around his skinny hips and glaring at Romi and Wepizi. “Feeling better, are we?” Romi drawled, not at all fazed by his anger. “Karik, maybe you’d better take him back. Everyone else will return to the sleeping quarters soon. Do you need any help?” “I can manage,” Karik said coldly, wrapping his towel around him. “Come on, Soza.” There was no reason to linger in the cold pool, so Wepizi and Romi dried themselves, then sat on the benches by the low stove. Not as warm as the steam room, but pleasant enough, and since there was little privacy in the winter, it was a chance to sit and talk quietly to Wepizi. “That,” his friend said, looking in the direction in which the civilians had gone, “is a very beautiful man.” “I suppose so. Unfortunately, he belongs to that pissing fool who went with him.” Wepizi looked wide-eyed in surprise. “Him? Surely not. Are they in love? Truly?” “So it seems.” Romi wouldn’t like to swear it was actually true love, but Karik was as solicitous as a wife of his lover, so there had to be something there. Surely only love could blind him to the man’s faults. “Ah, well, if Sephiz wishes it, I suppose it must be. But it offends my aesthetic sense, I confess.” “Handsome is as handsome does, so they say. Never mind Karik, how are you, my friend? I wished I could have been here to help.” Wepizi only smiled sadly and shook his head. “I had people around me, Romi, and your letters gave me such comfort. As for me, I take each day as a gift from Sephiz, and do not ask why he has
allowed me to be parted from her. I know one day we will be together again and for now she is with him and enjoys his love.” Cold comfort, Romi thought, but did not say. “I hope,” he said gently, “you will find enough happiness that you will not merely endure, but actively enjoy your life, my friend. Lema would not wish it any other way, I know that.” “So do I, Romi, and for her, I try. I try so very hard, but some days are easier than others. A day on which my good friend comes to stay is always easy,” he added gallantly. “And what of you? You and your young man, are you happy...ah. I’m sorry, my friend. I know how fond you were of him.” “It happens,” Romi said with a shrug, his own romantic failures as nothing next to Wepizi’s grief. “As you would say, if Sephiz wishes it, then so it must be.” “But you are young and very handsome, my friend. You will find someone eventually who will love you and who you will love with equal joy, I am sure of it. Anything else would be contrary to Sephiz’s will.” “I’m sure you’re right,” Romi lied. “But I didn’t come up here for romance, I came up here to hunt and explore and to spend time with the good friends I made last time. Were you serious in what you told Karik? I have to admit I was a little shocked at the depth of the snow. You know our beasts aren’t used to it.” Wepizi dismissed his concern with a wave of his hand. “At this time of year, we get heavy snow, then a couple of warm days and it goes. Already it’s becoming milder.” Romi gave him a frankly sceptical look for that comment. “No, it’s true. If you’re really worried, we can tarry a few days, but our beasts are no hardier than yours and they manage fine. They complain, but I’ve never lost one yet, not to the cold, anyway. The main thing is you have to carry enough feed and that’s not a problem. Give them water, food and they make their own heat. The doigs are hardier, but they make an uncomfortable mount if you’re unused to them.” “Tell me about it,” Romi said with feeling, remembering how sore his arse had got after a twoweek trek using the damn things on his previous stay. “So the plan is to be in Visiqe by the end of spring, and back in Tsikiugui before year end. Are you really planning to travel the whole distance with us?” “And who else would I trust?” he said with a grin. “I’ll tell you a secret. It was a personal request from my tezrei, who had it in turn from your Lord Arman, even separately from our council’s order. Your Ruler’s known Tezrei Edikio for years, and asked for someone sound to accompany you. My tezrei honoured me with the suggestion, and when I learned you were coming, I was delighted I had accepted. To be honest, my friend, I could do with getting out of Tsikiugui. Sometimes we need a change of environment to see things more clearly.” “I know,” Romi said with feeling. “Well, I’m more glad than I can say that you’re to be with us.” “As am I. As am I. Now, tell me who I shall be travelling with. Start with the beautiful man.” Romi smiled as he shook his head. Even with his sorrows, Wepizi was irrepressible.
~~~~~~~~ Karik had been sorry to leave the steam room, and mortified by Soza’s rudeness to their host, so he had to grit his teeth to avoid saying something he’d regret as they walked back to the sleeping quarters. He’d hoped Soza would appreciate what an inconvenience he had been and shut up, but the man was still grumbling as they got back to the hall. “Honestly, Karik, what a stupid damn thing to do, to overheat a person, and then ask them to freeze to death afterwards. I could have had a heart attack.” “I doubt Lep Wepizi intended any harm, Soza. After all, it’s the common practice.” “I don’t care,” Soza said petulantly. “I should complain to a senior officer about that man’s behaviour.” Karik stopped dead and took his arm. “Soza, ‘lep’ is a senior rank, even more senior than a colonel. Wepizi is either in charge of these barracks, or in joint charge. I don’t think we should be upsetting the Andonese this early on, do you?” “Are you sure? He’s not that old.” “He’s older than he looks, I think. Older than the lieutenant certainly. And he’s going to be our liaison for the year or so, so could you please...um, be tolerant?” “You think I was rude.” Karik looked at the ground. “I don’t think it was wise to snap at him like that, no.” “Oh dear. Should I apologise?” He looked ready to run back to the steam room, but Karik kept a hand on his arm. “I don’t think it’s necessary, but we’re not at home anymore. We’re the guests, so we have to make allowances. The Andonese are a very kind people, you know, but they don’t like rudeness.” “No, I’m sure.” Soza shook his head ruefully. “I’m sorry, I just felt so unwell, and then the shock.... I’ll behave, Karik, I promise. I don’t want you to feel ashamed of me.” “I’m not,” Karik said hastily, if not entirely truthfully. “But you’ll be experiencing lots of new things on this trip, and not all of them will be pleasant so you just have to take the good and the bad.” “Yes, indeed. My wise young friend, what would I do without you?” He clasped Karik’s shoulder. “I’m trying, I’m just tired after the trip. That was a difficult journey.” “Yes, it was, and I’m tired too. We’ll both feel like new men after a night’s sleep,” he promised, and hoped it would be true. He also hoped that since the great arse had a friend of his own to keep him company on the trip, he might leave Karik alone, or at least, be in a better temper. There were already signs this might be the case, and Karik was an optimist, so he refused to fret about it too much. Romi was just a minor, temporary inconvenience on this wonderful adventure, and Karik wouldn’t let him spoil things for him.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Staying Power: 12 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ It was a strange experience to sleep in the same room as sixty other people and he found it hard to drop off—he always had problems sleeping in a strange environment, and resigned himself to a restless night, even though Soza and the rest of the team had gone to sleep easily. But eventually, despite the soft snores, the lamplight, and the unfamiliar surroundings, he went under, and was startled to be woken by the sounds and movements of the soldiers getting ready for the day. He sat up and yawned, scratching his beard. The room was bathed in bright sunlight coming through the high windows, and he was suddenly eager to see what the snow would look like now. Some of the team were still waking up—the great arse was gone, thank goodness. He got up and found his winter coat, and slipped out quietly into the antechamber to pull his boots on—he could feel the intense cold even through the heavy door. But once he was outside, he was glad he had braved it. It appeared more snow had fallen overnight, dusting the ground and the trampled dirty ice, making it all gleam. The sunlight sparkled and even the rather ugly buildings of the barracks looked beautiful under its magic. He walked out into the yard, taking care not to slip. He wondered if he would ever learn to walk with the grace of an Andonese over these treacherous surfaces. “Never seen snow before, my friend?” He smiled and turned to look at Wepizi. “Not like this. It doesn’t snow much on the plains, and I’ve never been in the mountains in the depths of winter. It’s so pretty.” “But deadly, of course. It’s like fire—it’s beautiful, but you need to respect it. In its own way, the snow serves its role, just as fire does. You’ll see for yourself how it shapes our landscape and the plants.” Karik acknowledged the wisdom of the words with a slight bow of his head. “Ah, I hope your friend took no harm from the steam room.” “Not at all, and he apologises for his curtness. He was just tired from the journey.” Wepizi nodded. “I understand. Not everyone finds the steam rooms pleasant, though we Andonese think they’re essential to life.” “I think they’re a wonderful idea,” Karik said politely. “I felt so much better afterwards.” A new voice broke into their conversation. “And did you sleep well, Karik?” Karik turned. “Well enough, captain,” he said coolly as Romi approached. “Glad to hear it. We only have today to recuperate since we’ll be setting off tomorrow.” Karik wondered why he was being told something he already knew. “Wepizi is arranging for us to be instructed in raising the tent and on other matters. I hope you might participate.” There was nothing in the lieutenant’s voice or expression to indicate sarcasm, but Karik knew him too well to trust him.
“Of course. Was that all, captain? I should go and have breakfast.” “I’ll come with you. I’ll find you later, Wepizi.” The lep waved them off and Karik forced himself to smile, though he wondered what he had done to deserve the great arse’s attentions this time. He would have preferred to have gone inside without exchanging another word with the man, but he was out of luck. “I wanted to speak to you privately,” Romi said in a low voice. “Strange, because that’s the last thing I want to do,” Karik snapped. “Look....” Romi sighed. “All right. Two things. Three, actually. I apologise if I said anything which could be interpreted as disrespect towards your family. I meant none, I assure you.” Karik just stared, not believing a word of it. “I also apologise for making assumptions about your attitude towards the military.” “You were accurate if you were only talking about my attitude to you.” “Karik...you can’t speak to me like that. I have a position to maintain, you know.” He was being unusually mild, and Karik could only imagine he wanted to impress his friend, still watching them from the middle of the yard. “Your position is perfectly clear, captain. Was that all?” Romi stiffened at his rude tone. “No, one more thing. Soza needs to be reminded that we are the guests of the Andonese and being snappish with someone of Wepizi’s rank is not a good idea. Wepizi is a very easygoing man—that’s not always going to be the case.” “I’ve already brought that up with him, and apologised to the lep for his behaviour. It won’t happen again.” “I’m glad to hear it. Thank you for handling it.” “I didn’t do it for your sake, captain. Do you mind? It’s cold and I’m hungry.” “No, please go ahead,” he said, holding the door open. Karik slipped inside without looking back, and wished he could contrive a way not to have to speak to the damn man for the next six months. Arse.
~~~~~~~~ Romi sighed and hung his head. That had gone so well. “Am I misinterpreting things if I suggest that our beautiful young man seems less than fond of my handsome friend?” Romi turned and gave Wepizi a rueful smile. “Was it that obvious?” “Oh, not at all,” Wepizi said, his eyes sparkling with humour. “The fact that his look refroze all the icicles on the eaves wasn’t the least hint. You had a falling out?”
“Several. More...misunderstandings and miscommunications. I may have left it too late to fix, I fear.” “Hmmm.” Wepizi stroked his moustache thoughtfully. “Lema always said you could charm the birds from the trees. Perhaps you’ve just not really tried to charm this particular fledgling?” “Perhaps this particular fledgling has his feet nailed to the branch and it wouldn’t matter what I did. I’m a sorry excuse for a captain, Wepizi.” “Nonsense, my friend. You just haven’t applied yourself to the task.” But then his smile turned serious. “But answer me this—do you want to charm him because it’s the good and right thing to do, or to prove to him what a superior person you are?” “I....” He stopped—Wepizi had him there. “A bit of both, if I’m honest.” Wepizi looked down his long nose at him, intelligent eyes peering into Romi’s heart. “Well, my friend, you don’t need me to join up the pieces for you. Our beautiful boy doesn’t strike me as a fool, and if you approach him without love in your heart, then his feet will be nailed to the tree for a very long time. No one wants to be another man’s platform for display.” Then he smiled again. “Now, I must go and see my tezrei. My people will come for you after breakfast and you can inspect your animals. Then we can go over the supplies. If anything is lacking, then we can delay our departure, but I’m sure we have all that we need.” Romi gave Wepizi the formal bow which doubled as the military salute in this country. “Thank you, my friend.” “As always, you’re welcome.” Romi watching his friend walk away, and shook his head. Of course Wepizi was right—Karik was no fool. But to approach him with love in his heart—he smiled at Wepizi’s romantic way of putting things—seemed beyond him right now. Karik only had to give him one of his snotty replies, or one of those frigid looks, and Romi’s temper was immediately on the boil. Maybe he’d better work on controlling his own manners before he tackled anyone else’s. Breakfast was meal porridge sweetened with sugary sap. It was only designed to tide them over until the mid-morning break, and lunch would be a couple of hours after that. In winter, the Andonese ate frequent and generous hot meals, though he had never seen any obese natives—the weather just burned the fuel off. If he ate in Darshian the way the Andonese did, he’d be too fat to mount a beast, but the struggle here was to keep the weight on. He ran over his mental inventory of the supplies they had brought, and hoped he had got his calculations right—he would check them with Wepizi later. The team looked well rested, and relieved to be off the ship. It hadn’t been as bad as journeys could get, but there had been plenty of rough weather and a good deal of seasickness to bear, though with thorough planning, he and Netu had managed much better this time. A day’s rest would be welcome, even though he was impatient to be on his way. His people were already making friends, he was pleased to note. He’d found the barracks a welcoming place on his previous visit, and nothing much had changed. The tezrei of Tsikiugui was an excellent man, a good manager and a strong
strategist. Romi had learned a good deal from both him and Wepizi on his previous visit and hoped to do so again. He’d already been given a valuable lesson in human relations before breakfast, after all. As he ate, he watched Karik out of the corner of his eye. The man seemed to be fitting in easily with the Andonese as much as the Darshianese soldiers, and his language skills were improving by the minute, or so it seemed. He did, as he had said on the journey from Urshek, have a rather strong accent, but he had as good a grasp of grammar and vocabulary as Romi himself and was having no difficulty in conversing. By contrast, Soza was at a loss, and finally had to content himself with eating his porridge and pretending he had no interest in what was being said. Romi would have felt sorry for him if he wasn’t such a bastard. When he was talking, Karik’s face lit up with enthusiasm, and it was then that Romi could easily describe him as Wepizi did—a ‘beautiful man’. But when he caught Romi looking at him, his expression went blank, and if he wasn’t being watched, became downright cold. Even knowing the basis of his anger, Romi found it very difficult not to answer with a sneer of his own, but he forced himself to smile back pleasantly. Yes, it was motivated purely by a need to prove himself a better man, he admitted it. But he had to start somewhere. From the look of it, Karik was yet to be the least impressed by his efforts. “Captain? I’m Groi Tisin. Your beasts have arrived from the docks.” Romi stood and caught Reisa’s eye. “We better go and see they’re bedding in all right.” Reisa nodded. “Karik? Fancy coming along and giving me your opinion?” Karik looked as startled as Romi felt and easily as displeased, but then he smiled. “Certainly, if the captain has no objection.” He gave Romi a look as if to defy him to come up with one. “Not at all. Your experience has been invaluable. I welcome your assistance.” Karik’s eyes narrowed, no doubt suspecting sarcasm. Soza asked what was going on, and Karik quickly explained as he rose. Romi spoke to the rest of his team. “Netu, Jou, you take the rest of the team out to the field and begin the tent raising. Soza, if you wish to join in, you may find it interesting.” “Perhaps,” Soza said coldly. For some reason, that got him an odd look from his lover which almost looked like annoyance. Surely not. The three of them followed the young soldier out to the stables—the sunshine of earlier had disappeared and to Romi’s dismay, it looked about to snow again, though it felt a little milder. Despite Wepizi’s reassurances, he was worried about beginning their journey when the snow was still so thick on the ground. He had no experience of travelling in such weather at all. “Reisa, Wepizi is sure our beasts can handle the cold. Do you agree?” “They’re pretty tough, Romi, and it gets pissing cold on Darshian plain. Karik? You’re the closest thing we have to an expert—what’s your thoughts?”
Karik looked at Reisa, then at Romi. “I think we need to be guided by the people with the experience on the ground. My main concern is about the conditions at night. If Wepizi thinks they can handle that, they can handle the rest.” “There must be a reason they’re not native to Andon—do you think it’s because of the cold?” Romi asked. Karik walked on. “The distribution of animals is not something I understand well, captain. Soza might be happy to elucidate, if you cared to ask him,” he added sweetly. Little shit. Romi reined in his temper. Karik was trying to bait him—pity he was too good at this game. “Perhaps I will. I might even understand the explanation, given time.” “I think that’s unlikely.” Reisa grinned, but then looked confused at Karik’s cold stare. This really had to stop. Romi had been a damn fool to let it get this bad. “Never mind, it’s not really important.” Tisin led them into the stables, where their twenty animals were crowding out the regular stock. Karik immediately went to the closest animal. “This is no good, Reisa. Bunched this close, they’ll kick and injure each other.” Reisa looked at Romi for advice. “Tisin? You don’t have any other accommodation?” “No, captain. Only the outside paddock.” “Then they should be outside,” Karik said with authority. “If they’re going to acclimatise, then we should start immediately. Better to know they can’t handle it before we leave.” “Yes, that’s sensible. Reisa? Can you get them moved? Tisin, will that be a problem?” “No, captain, except someone will have to make sure they have unfrozen water to drink and it should be warmed a little, at least this first day.” “I can take charge of that,” Karik said. “No, thanks for offering, Karik, but that’s what we have the soldiers for.” Romi almost sighed as he saw Karik bristle at the implication that he wasn’t capable. “I meant, you and Soza and I and Wepizi have things to discuss today. Apart from the tent raising, the rest of the team will be sitting around with little to do.” “I can deal with it,” Reisa said. “And our people will also,” Tisin added politely. “No offence to your skill, my friend,” he said to Karik. “Your suggestion is very wise.” Karik flushed. “I didn’t mean...whatever suits you,” he said, looking flustered. He walked down the ranks of close packed animals, and seemed absorbed in checking them over. Romi ignored him for the moment. “Reisa, sort it out. Tisin, will they need someone to watch them overnight?” “No, captain. So long as they have been fed and watered by sunset, they’ll be fine.”
“Very well.” He walked over to Karik who was looking at the foot of one of the beasts with a concerned expression. “Problem?” “I don’t like the look of this. See?” There was a small wound where the hoof split at the toes. “It looks infected.” “Damn. Can we treat it?” “Yes, but not quickly. I’m worried it will go lame if we take it on the snow.” “Your advice?” “Try and swap it for one of the barracks animals.” “Right, I’ll speak to Wepizi. What about the others, can you check them?” Karik suddenly remembered who he was speaking to. “Are you sure you want me to do that, captain?” he said in a low voice. Fortunately, Reisa had moved away to talk to Tisin, and so could not hear their conversation. “Yes,” Romi said, as evenly as he could. “I’d be very grateful for your help in his matter. Reisa has no special training, he’s a surveyor, not a beast manager.” “And I’m just a pissing Prij.” “Look, I’ve never called you that, so don’t invent insults. I can’t help it if I remind you of all the people who’ve attacked you in your life, but I’ve never given a damn what nationality you are.” He made Karik look at him until he won a reluctant nod. “All right then. So I say again, I’d be grateful for your help. In fact, if I could put you in charge of supervising the animal care, it would be an enormous relief.” Sensing this wasn’t the greatest incentive, he added, “It would help the mission a good deal.” “So why didn’t you ask me in Darshek?” “Because I’m not infallible, and I’m rearranging things as we need them, just as you’ve rearranged the accommodation for the animals. Give me a little slack, or do you do everything perfectly first time, every time? If so, then you should be the captain, not me.” “Oh, no, not I—would I lower myself to being military?” The brat was mocking him. “If it’s good enough for your honoured uncle, then I’d have thought it was good enough for you. I’m not serious.” “I never thought you were. Very well—but if I’m in charge, then I expect to be given the respect that entails. If you treat my advice with disdain, I will cease to offer it, is that clear?” Those amazing green eyes burned with cold pride as he demanded an answer. “Perfectly. I’ll let Reisa and the others know you have that authority. Final decisions and responsibility rest with me, never forget that. Is that clear?” “Perfectly,” Karik mimicked. “Then you can begin by assisting me, or asking someone else to do so. I want go over every beast with a fine tooth comb because we can’t afford to start out with injuries like this.” “Agreed. I’ll assist, Reisa’s busy.”
Karik shot him a quick look, and then nodded. Romi kept out of his way as Karik quickly and efficiently examined the beasts. He kept his observations to himself, but secretly he couldn’t help but be impressed at the easy way Karik had with the big animals, his confidence in handling them and the extensive knowledge which clearly underpinned his brief comments. It reminded Romi of when he’d been a child, following his much older brothers around their farm and learning the way of the land, the secrets of the seasons and the climate. Or even watching his mother cook or weave, with a talent that seemed instinctive but which he knew full well had been learned from her father. Seeing competence and skill unostentatiously displayed was one of the things he most enjoyed in life, but damned if he’d let Karik know of his admiration. The brat’s ego was healthy enough without it. At last Karik was done. “Right—if we can swap those three, well and good, but we can manage if we can’t, though I really don’t want to take that one,” he said, pointing to the first one he’d spotted as being injured. “We can manage with one less animal if we have to.” “Agreed. I’ll speak to Wepizi about swapping it, but I don’t know if they can spare us one of the right quality—I’d appreciate your checking any borrowed beast over as well.” “Yes, I’m sure you would,” Karik said coolly as he washed his hands. “Anyway, I’m grateful. You see, we can work together if we need to. All we need is a little respect and civility and we’re fine.” Karik’s expression turned glacial. “You’ll never have my respect, captain,” he said through clenched teeth. “And you will get the civility I deem you deserve. I would prefer you to not make such personal observations.” “As you wish,” Romi said wearily, not wanting an argument. “You mentioned needing us to meet with the lep?” “Yes, later—I’ll come find you. Are you going out to watch the tent being raised?” “I don’t plan to just watch, captain. Come find me when you’re ready.” And with that, he walked out of the stable without a glance backwards. Romi swore to himself at the man’s arrogance, but there was no doubt Karik had just done the team a service. A lame animal, let alone three, would be a great inconvenience and they didn’t need that right at the start of the mission. Time would tell if he could keep up the role, but so long as he did his job, Romi wouldn’t much care about the rest of it. Pity though—he really was a handsome little brat.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Staying Power: 13 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Karik tried to put lieutenant arse right out of his mind as he walked carefully across the snowy yard to the sleeping quarters, but he couldn’t help wondering what the man was up to, asking him to take charge of the beast management. Reisa was competent enough, though he had no special skill—all soldiers knew the basics of animal care, naturally, but very few had the level of knowledge of Karik’s Pa or even Karik himself. It made him wonder why no official beast master had been appointed for the team—it seemed on the level of incompetence which had let the men travel from Urshek without an appointed medic. Perhaps that was just how they organised things in south Darshian. Very annoying. Lieutenant arse was lucky Karik had some skills in that direction, but that was all it was—luck, not planning. He shook his head, wondering at the lack of forethought, as he entered the sleeping quarters. They were deserted—except for one man. Just as Karik had thought, Soza had decided to ignore Romi’s pointed hint, and was sitting near the stove, busily making notes. “Oh, are you done?” Soza said, lifting his head briefly, but then looking down at the last thing he’d written and scratching it out with his pencil. “For now—I’m going to learn how to raise the tent. You really ought to come too, Soza.” “I don’t need to be involved in that,” he said impatiently, not even lifting his eyes from his work. “That’s what the soldiers are for.” Despite himself, Karik felt his temper rise, and forced himself to take a deep breath or two before replying. “No, that’s not right,” he said with as much politeness in his tone as he could manage. “They’re not our servants.” “I never said they were. But my job is not to look after the day-to-day running of the camp. That’s our dear lieutenant’s task.” “Soza, if there’s a blizzard, we’ll need to get the tent up as fast as we can. If it rains, we’ll want to get dry. If we have people injured, or sick, we’ll need all the hands we can get. The weather won’t care if we’re soldiers or scientists.” Soza looked up, and laid his pencil down. “You’re saying I need to do this?” “Yes, I am. It won’t hurt to start doing things with them as a team either, whatever your opinion of the captain, which I share, trust me.” “I don’t need to do manual labour to be part of this team,” Soza said stiffly. “I won’t be asking them to make my notes for me.”
“No, and I would expect them to take the greater part of the mundane tasks, as was agreed. But this is about survival as much as anything. You and I might have to put that tent up on our own one day, and it will be too late for lessons then.” “Very well, good point.” He collected his papers and took them over to his pack near the wall. “You shouldn’t let them bully you into doing their work. You’re not a common soldier.” “I know that. But I don’t want to end up dead because I was too proud to learn some basic skills, or to offer help when it’s asked.” “I bet our lieutenant wouldn’t be so practical,” Soza said with a sniff, pulling on his heavy clothes. “Gods, this clothing is horrible to wear,” he complained as Karik helped him buckle everything up. “You’ll get used to it, and in a few weeks we can shed it. With any luck we won’t need it again.” “I hope not.” Actually Karik was impressed by the design and economy of the clothes, and it was certainly effective. They weren’t as heavy as they could be, and were waterproof as well as wind-proof. He was already used to wearing them, and thought them surprisingly comfortable. But to a man like Soza used to the very mild climate of south Darshian, where a coat was unusual, let alone gear like this, they must have felt a burden. They were directed out to the back of the barracks into a large field where the soldiers had a tent half-erected—or half-disassembled, Karik wasn’t sure. Taz waved at him and beckoned him over, then Karik and Soza were set to work without the least ceremony, Taz and Sibu quickly explaining what was needed. The tent was going up, so Karik was told to hold the cross-braced frame at his side, while oiled leather and felt was stretched over it. “Careful, my friend, don’t put too much stress on it,” their Andonese instructor said, coming over and guiding his arm. “Let the weight do the work.” The tent was huge, and needed at least six of them to work at all, each working in close coordination. Soza lost patience almost immediately. “This is ridiculous,” he snapped. “I’m going back inside. This isn’t my job.” He simply dropped his end and marched off across the snow. Jou had to take the weight, and shot Soza an annoyed look, for which Karik didn’t blame her at all. There wasn’t any point in pushing it, but he really hoped it wouldn’t come to Soza being one of the necessary six to erect it on the trail. It took several attempts, and a lot of cursing, but suddenly Karik got the knack, and then the tent rose like a giant fungi, skin taut, and frame secure. “Now, don’t stand and admire it, take it down,” their instructor, Tekwisu, ordered with a grin. Someone enjoyed teasing his Darshianese colleagues. Tekwisu had them raise it and take it down three times, until he was satisfied they could do it in twenty minutes. “Still slow,” he said dryly. “But now, I’ll show you what to do if you are reduced to fewer than six, or are forced to split up.” To Karik’s surprise, and no little admiration, he watched Tekwisu calmly tear the frame and skin apart, then erect the smaller tent thus produced entirely on his own, in under ten minutes. “You can make up to three tents this way, if pressed,” he said, tearing the thing down, and beckoning Kepi and
Taz over to start on the smaller version themselves. “It will be a lot warmer and more comfortable if you use it as one complete unit, but if you can’t find space to put it up, or you have to split your team, then you don’t need to carry extra shelter.” Karik and Jou were paired up to put the small tent up, then she insisted on doing it once herself, Karik imitating her once she’d pulled it down. He was already plotting how he could make a lighter weight version for his own use when he returned to the field in Darshian—he was sure canvas would work very well. They drilled for well over an hour, and had worked up a good sweat in their heavy clothes, despite the biting cold and the occasional light flurries of snow. By the time Tekwisu whistled to signal them to stop, the clouds had gone again and the sky was a brilliant deep blue, the sunlight sparkling on the iceclad trees and the snow. “Well done, my friends, well done. I can send you out with confidence. Now all I need you to do is to learn how to pack it for easy carriage on your animals.” The tent skin broke down into smaller parts and there was a clever trick to folding it. The frame split up into three slim portions which had their own leather bags to stow them. The most bulky parts were the roof poles and the centre ring, through which smoke and overheated air could escape when the tent was erected as a single unit. As the poles were stowed, Karik heard his name being called by Jou, and turned around—only to be hit full in the face with a handful of snow. “You...!” Still scraping the mess from his beard, he scooped up his own handful and flung it—but it just spread and went nowhere near his smirking attacker. “Come, come, that’s no way to behave,” Tekwisu said. Karik stopped, embarrassed at being so childish, but then Tekwisu bent and picked up some snow, compacting it with both hands. “If you’re going to do something....” He suddenly turned and pelted Jou with a much more effective snowball than Karik had made. “Do it properly!” Karik grinned, and following Tekwisu’s example, swiftly made another weapon. Jou expected it, and was already running and slipping in the snow, but he did get her on the back of the head. As if a signal had been given, snowballs began to fly from all directions, from Andonese and Darshianese alike, and no quarter was given to rank or sex. Karik discovered a well-aimed snowball pissing hurt, but that there was an enormous amount of satisfaction from a successful attack. There wasn’t much time in the mad hail of snow lumps to master the finer points of snowball making but Karik was getting the hang of it, and he’d always had a good aim, thanks to Gyo’s teaching. He was just aiming the perfect ball at Kepi when he heard a crunch of feet on snow behind him. Instinctively, he whirled and let fly. “Oh...hells.” Of all the people to hit by mistake. The lieutenant dusted the snow from his chest. “Thank you, Karik,” he said deadpan. As the team noticed his arrival, the game came to a sudden halt with a good bit of shamefaced shuffling of feet. “My apologies, captain,” Karik mumbled.
“No harm done—I just came to see if you, Pali and Matu could come and speak with Lep Wepizi. I gather you’ve all finished the tent training? Groi?” “Yes, captain,” Tekwisu said, looking completely unabashed. “I’ve a few more things I could impart, if there’s time.” “Then go ahead. Karik, Pali, Matu, could you come with me? Where’s Soza?” “Back in the quarters,” Pali said, looking as if he was going to make a rude comment, but then stopping himself as he looked at Karik. “Jou, would you mind sending him to the lep’s office?” She saluted and peeled off. Karik endeavoured to look sober and responsible, but he’d just given Romi a perfect reason to mock him. Despite that, the lieutenant seemed not the least annoyed as they walked back to the barracks building, the snow crunching under his feet. “So, you think you could show me how the tent gets raised?” he asked Matu. “I think so, Romi. It’s simple once you work out how the frame works. Fascinating piece of equipment.” “Yes, I’ve always thought so. Wepizi swears they’re as warm as a house.” Karik walked beside them in silence. He wondered when Romi would mention the snowball—he couldn’t believe he would pass up the opportunity to be snide. He cursed himself—he’d let himself forget he was here on a serious mission. It was all right for the others—they wouldn’t be held up to the same harsh scrutiny as he and Soza were. He was so lost in his self-recrimination, that he failed to realise Romi was talking to him. “I beg your pardon?” “I said, Wepizi is happy to swap animals with us, and has offered to let you choose which you want to take.” “That’s generous of him.” “Yes, it is. This way, gentlemen.”
~~~~~~~~ Romi was enjoying himself, he had to admit. The look on Karik’s face when he’d realised who he’d hit with that snowball had been priceless, and now the man was clearly waiting to be ticked off, although why, Romi didn’t know—it wasn’t like he’d been the only one mucking about. Romi knew the attraction of a snowball fight perfectly well, and if Karik had started that nonsense, Romi was a jombeker. However, Karik was just a minor distraction. The task that had to be completed was going over their proposed route with Wepizi and the two soldiers who would be going with them as far as Visiqe. The plan was to do a long circuit around to the mountain capital, a journey, if undertaken direct, could
be achieved in two weeks by river but which would take them three months, meandering through the marshlands and low forests, over the Gunozidei range and along the Epolniki river valley. Romi had seen a little of the marshlands, but never been further east or north of them—the hunting was rumoured to be good, supporting a small population of tribes in semi-permanent settlements. It was their aim to make contact with as many groups as they could to glean medical and geographical knowledge. “Now, my friends,” Wepizi said, once Soza had deigned to join them, “you must be aware the law of the king and council lies only lightly in our remotest regions. They acknowledge Visiqe’s authority, but they will only give the cooperation they choose to. Most will never have seen any Darshianese, and certainly none will have encountered a Prij before,” he added with a little nod at Karik. “That doesn’t mean you will be unwelcome, but it will mean you will need to exercise considerable tact in the face of curiosity.” “I’m used to that, Wepizi,” Karik said calmly. “It might even be to our advantage.” “Perhaps,” Wepizi acknowledged with a smile. “I just wanted you to be aware there is only so much I can do to gain their assistance.” “I can’t see what their objection can possibly be to a simple scientific investigation,” Soza said loftily. “It’s not like we plan to make war on them.” “No? But how will they know that? You’re foreigners invading their territory, even if it is for supposedly peaceful purposes. The tribes are fiercely proud and answer to no one. If they perceive you as a threat, be sure you will be repelled.” Romi saw Soza draw breath to argue and decided to cut this short. “We know we’re uninvited guests, Wepizi, and as guests, we’ll be sensitive to the feelings of our hosts. Won’t we, Soza?” “I’m sure I need no lessons in manners from you, lieutenant.” “Captain,” Romi corrected mildly. Wepizi gave them both a hard look, and Matu and Pali looked embarrassed. Karik revealed nothing in his expression. “Be that as it may, we will all take our lead from Wepizi and our guides, and if they say pull out or pull back, we will do so. Lord Arman charged me with two very specific duties—get everyone home safely, and don’t upset our friends. You would do well to listen to the lep’s advice, Soza.” “I honestly don’t know why you’re taking this line with me, captain. Is that all, Lep Wepizi?” Wepizi seemed a little startled at Soza’s abruptness. “Yes, I believe so. There’s the matter of the supplies....” “Well you don’t need me for that, so if you would excuse me?” Wepizi nodded and Soza left, shutting the door with an unnecessary bang behind him. “Ah. I see perhaps diplomacy may have to begin at home,” Wepizi said with an embarrassed smile. “Leave him to me,” Romi said, wondering if Karik was going to defend his lover, but the man was still looking down at the desk, a slight flush of colour high in his cheeks. “Are we done, Wepizi? I’d like to look over the supplies.” “Yes, of course, my friend. But perhaps Karik would like to choose the animals first?”
Karik looked up and nodded. “If we could, then we can mix them with the herd, get them used to each other. Every little bit helps.” “Of course. Gentlemen, thank you,” Wepizi said, nodding at Romi’s men and his own. “Feive, Gizwei, you should get to know our guests better since we are to spend so much time in their pleasant company.” The Andonese bowed, and left with Romi’s soldiers. “Karik, I’ll come with you to the stables,” Romi said as he got to his feet. “Wepizi, will you be here?” “Yes, naturally. If you have any problems with the animals, Tisin will assist you.” They bowed and left Wepizi to it. The pink did not leave Karik’s cheeks even as they went out into the cold again, but he said nothing as they headed to the stables. Tisin was waiting for them with a few candidate animals for Karik to inspect. Romi watched the man give the beasts the same meticulous examination that he and his father had carried out in Darshek—he wouldn’t be hurried, that was for sure. Romi was content with that—these animals would have to carry them several thousand miles and across unknown territory. He didn’t care if Karik took all day to find the best beasts for them. Finally, Karik straightened up and nodded at Tisin. “Right, that one, this one and the one with the mottled face.” “As you wish. I’ll take them out to the paddock now.” Romi waited until Tisin and another stable hand got the animals in charge and took them outside. Karik seemed distracted as he watched them go. “Are you not happy with the animals?” “What? Oh—well, the Andonese are getting the best of the bargain but they don’t have much in the way of decent stock.” “But they’ll do?” “I think so.” Karik bit his lip. “Well?” “Well, what?” “Aren’t you going to make some comment about earlier?” “Oh, that. Yes—good shot.” Karik stared, and Romi nearly laughed at his obvious surprise. “Aren’t you angry?” “Over a snowball? My, you really do know some petty people.” “I....” His mouth snapped shut. “Is that all?” he asked coldly. “No, one more thing. I don’t want to keep harping on about this, but Soza needs to learn some manners. I don’t care what he says—or you say—to me when we’re alone. But if he behaves like that when we meet the tribal people.... Surely you can see my point.” “I don’t have that kind of influence over him, captain.” That comment surprised Romi, but he didn’t show it. “Then we have a problem. If he can’t even be civil to Wepizi, I don’t know how he will act around people he presumably sees as being of even less
importance. You’re in charge of the beasts, and now you’re in charge of him too. You’re the only person who can get through to him.” “When did managing members of the team become my job?” “The moment your friend made it clear he wasn’t going to listen to anything I said. It’s either this, or I leave him behind. I’m serious.” Karik stared at him again. “Did Arman tell you to do this?” “Your uncle told me to take all steps necessary. Wepizi’s worried too. There’s more to this mission than the scientific knowledge, and whether it offends you to hear it or not, I have to say this—he’s not impressing anyone so far.” “The same could be said of you, you know,” Karik said, his embarrassment forgotten as he gave Romi a haughty look. “Yes, very likely, but I’m in charge of this mission, not you and not him. Look—get Soza to behave, or he stays behind. Accept my right to say that, or stay behind yourself. I’m not going to tussle with you over every point. We’ve both got better things to do with our time, and frankly, it’s just pissing boring.” Karik seemed about to snap something back, but then he merely nodded. “I’ll do what I can.” “Thank you.” Karik left and Romi sighed as he rubbed his forehead. Civilians.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Staying Power: 14 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ The problem of Soza and the irritation of Karik, were mere background noise to the work Romi had to do the rest of the day with Wepizi. When he encountered them again, Soza was cold, Karik unreadable but not overtly hostile. Since Karik took his place in the steam room without comment, Romi hoped the man was intelligent enough to understand why Romi had said what he had. Any conversations Karik had with his lover on the topic were carried out away from Romi’s hearing, and so he had no way of knowing how effective they had been. In the morning, there was simply no time to worry about neurotic civilians as they loaded their animals and began the slow trek northeast. It hadn’t snowed again, but there had been a crisp frost. The air was dry and bitterly cold, but the sun shone with something approaching warmth, and the sky was the most intense blue, like that over Darshek plain in winter, but even more brilliant. Romi felt his heart lift with excitement—finally they were on their way. The first two weeks or so would be dull, travelling through farmland and settled areas which were of no scientific interest, and which he had seen before. But that didn’t stop him relishing the space, the freedom and the beauty of the snow-covered land as they rode the beasts at little more than a fast walk. Even this tamed part of Andon whispered to him of mystery and excitement. They rode in pairs, he and Wepizi leading the column. He had no reason to speak to Karik and Soza who had chosen to travel towards the rear that first day, though he noted approvingly that Karik checked his lover’s hands and feet for frostbite at each rest stop, as they had all been told to do. It was obvious Soza wasn’t enjoying things much, but then Romi had never expected him to, and wouldn’t make any special accommodation for the man until he was asked. The same enthusiasm he felt infected the rest of his team, and even the cold didn’t stop the ripples of quiet conversation up and down the line. Wepizi also looked a little more cheerful as they left Tsikiugui, and Romi hoped getting away from the scene of so much sorrow might help his healing along. Even the ache in Romi’s heart that had Daiso’s name on it had dulled much more than he would have imagined after such a short time. Was it because he was shallow, or because he had not cared for his lover as much as he’d believed? Or was it simply because he had had so many other things to occupy him? He still had. Though he had to rely on their guides for advice about the best places to camp, every decision was ultimately his, and there were a dozen matters needing his attention during the day— making sure firewood was collected, keeping an eye out for potential game, making sure his people were keeping up and not being affected by the weather, that the beasts weren’t, and that they were making good time. Wepizi had been right—the urs beasts really didn’t seem to mind the cold at all, and
they walked over the snow far more easily than the humans did. He smiled as Romi commented on this very fact. “They’re very adaptable, my friend. I feel they must be Andonese, at least in spirit.” Romi grinned at the remark, but couldn’t help wondering why there were no native beasts in Andon, when they were found in so many other places. The fact that Soza might know, and Romi couldn’t ask him, was a niggling annoyance, like being a child again and being told not to touch the books in the house because he might damage them. ‘Childish’ was probably a better term, he thought wryly, and tore his thoughts away from the scientists. He didn’t fail to note that Karik threw his efforts into all the camp making and the tent raising, but Soza managed to always find somewhere else to be. He wasn’t the only one who’d noticed it either. “Does he think he’s too fine for the work?” Jou muttered as he helped her tension a guy rope. “Look at this way, corporal—do you want to sleep in a tent he’s helped to raise?” “Not really—but I think if he’s too good to raise it, he’s too good to sleep in it. I’d tell him that too, if I didn’t like Karik so well.” “Best to hold your tongue. I can do without the tantrums.” She gave him a rueful smile at that, then moved further around to help Taz with his end. Karik had gone with Reisa to settle the beasts. Romi went over to see how the animals had fared that day, and found them building a fire to melt snow. “Everything under control? Any of the animals suffering from the cold?” he asked Karik as Reisa went for the metal bucket they would be using for the purpose. “Do you think I wouldn’t tell you, captain?” “No, not at all. I’m just taking an interest.” Karik gave him an icy look. “Don’t,” he said, then turned his back on him. Ah, well. That would teach him to be nice. They were using barracks rations tonight, but they would need to start living off the land as soon as they could. They all carried crossbows, and had instructions to point out any likely looking game, as well as strict orders not to kill anything that looked remotely like a domestic doig—the last thing they wanted was to antagonise a farmer by poaching. But there were wild doigs and weti to be had, and waterfowl too, and Wepizi said that soon the dowkiqu would wake from their hibernation and make themselves prey as they looked for food among the melting snows. They had already seen a few grazing doigs, their shaggy fur encrusted with snow, seeming part of the land itself until they moved. Soon there would be plants pushing up through the snow, and as they approached the forests, there would be berries and nuts to supplement any game they would collect. Romi had always prided himself when he had taken field exercises in using as little of the provisions they brought with them as they possibly could, and on bringing back fresh meat for the barracks. He wanted them to be as self-sufficient as possible, and to learn the woodcraft peculiar to this land from their guides as quickly as they could. Their lives might depend on it. The tent was up, and already smoke rose faintly above it in the gloom. The temperature inside was noticeably warmer with everyone clustered in a circle around the small portable stove on which they
would cook their supper. The floor of the tent was comfortable and well-padded with saddle blankets, felt pads which were an integral part of the design, and the thick doig hides they had been given to use as sleeping mats—their usual sleeping rolls being inadequate for the conditions. In addition, each of the team had been issued with a little folding stool, to keep rumps off frozen ground when keeping watch. While Feive and Netu cooked supper, the rest of them chewed hard biscuits and drank spiced tea. Some of his people were stretched on their sleeping hides, others used the little stools. Everyone seemed to be handling things well. Everyone but Soza, of course, who looked cold and out of sorts. Some of that had to do with the long day’s ride. He would have to trust Karik to tell him if it was more serious than that. From Karik’s expression, there was no need for concern just yet. As they ate the soup and camp bread, Wepizi told them about the history of this part of Andon. “Once,” he said, stroking his moustache reflectively, “Andon was ruled by no one man alone, and the only government here was a council of tribes. But then warlords came from the eastern lands, and forced the tribes and settlements to bend to their will. There was over a hundred and fifty years of oppression and cruelty—terrible things done to the people who lived in the low country and the hills in this area. Whole tribes taken into slavery, others decimated. It’s a wonder any survived.” “I heard something about refuges in the hills and in the northern ranges?” Wepizi nodded. “Yes, we think that’s where some of the tribal peoples hid, though the locations remain a fiercely guarded secret. Let me warn you—if there’s the least suspicion that we’re looking for these, not only will cooperation dry up like spit on a griddle, we could find ourselves in a very hostile situation. It might be three generations since the line of Godiw freed our people from the warlords and gave the tribes their freedom, but that is but a moment in time to them. The army now protects the people, not oppresses it, but the memory of oppression is still strong.” “What of the Gifted?” That was Karik. “Ah, well, they were even more tormented by the war lords, and for many years none have been known in our land. We suspect they still exist, but they have remained hidden. How new births have been concealed, I don’t know—perhaps they really have been destroyed. We have far fewer minor gifted than the Darshianese, I know. A grave loss to our nation.” “I was told by my mother where I should go if there was ever another invasion,” Romi said. “I think all gifted learn this secret at some point. They have to have done—how else did we keep the secret from the Prij for twenty years while they had control of the south?” Did he imagine Karik looking a little flushed at that comment? “And no, I’m not telling you where it is,” he added with a grin. “A wise man,” Wepizi said, smiling. “But now you see why there is even more reason to tread very lightly. The tribes’ freedom was won at a terrible cost. They won’t surrender it again without a bloody battle.” Romi wondered about the different ways the Andonese and the Darshianese had dealt with imposed suzerains, but then the eastern war lords had been far crueller even than the Prij, and much
more barbaric. The Prij had wanted settled colonies, the warlords only to rape and pillage the lands. Both had ruthlessly suppressed rebellion, but given a choice, Romi knew who he’d choose to rule over him, if he had to have one or the other. Tooth sticks were passed around, and hands washed in a small bowl of warmed water as a minimal concession to hygiene and grooming. There was one task that had to be carried out away from the tent, naturally, and Romi left to do just that, lighting a sprite to guide his way. Kepi and Taz waved at him, making exaggerated shivers as they did, as he passed where the beasts were tied together for the night. Kepi and Taz were on the first watch, drinking soup out of heavy lidded mugs as they hunched around a deliberately large fire. At least with this many people, Romi could keep the shifts down to just over an hour—but it was necessary to keep a fire going near the beasts if they weren’t to be lost to one of the carnivores that roamed Andon, and which, at this time of year, were lean and desperate for food. He untied his trousers, appreciating once again why winter clothing in Andon didn’t use laces which needed bare fingers to undo, and shivered as he relieved his bladder. He didn’t look around as dancing lamplight warned him someone was approaching—he expected there to be a little rush as people hastened to do their business before settling down for the night. “Captain?” He turned. “Yes, Karik?” “Sibu said you’d handed out the watch roster. Which watch am I keeping?” “You’re not.” Romi finished what he was doing and did his trousers up—it was too cold to have a conversation outside, didn’t the man know that? “And why not? I’m perfectly able and willing to do my part.” “Right. And which shift is Soza going to do?” Karik seemed nonplussed at the question? “Soza? I don’t.... He’s not really....” “Exactly. I know you are quite capable of keeping watch, and I appreciate your willingness. But if I can’t ask Soza, I can’t ask you, nor can I let you volunteer if he won’t.” “Why? What difference does it make?” Romi sighed and leaned an arm against the tree. “I know it’s not what you want to hear, but Soza’s unwillingness to help out is causing resentment. To a certain extent, that’s not a problem. But things like the watch—well, it would make a difference if we had your assistance, there’s no question. So the resentment would get much worse if he was seen to be getting out of something that we all want to get out of. The only way I can stop it becoming a problem is to pretend that the security of the camp is military business, and therefore the civilians aren’t involved.” “But it’s not.” “No, it’s not, but do you really want Soza to be even more disliked than he is now?” Karik bit his lip. “I see. I...appreciate the diplomacy.”
“I’m not doing it for you. Leave the management to me, and you see to your own duties. All I want is for us to go home safe and sound and with the mission objectives achieved.” “That’s what we all want, captain.” “Good. Now I’m going in because it’s pissing freezing. Don’t hang around out here, the cold can kill you.” And that, Romi hoped, might set a few hisks running. He had no great faith that Karik could improve his lover’s behaviour—but he had great faith in Karik’s pride. He would be curious what would result from that little conversation.
~~~~~~~~ Karik wanted to be angry with lieutenant arse over what he’d said, but Romi had only done exactly what Arman or Tiko or any responsible person would have done. He couldn’t fault the logic, or even the manner in which the message had been delivered. The only thing he could fault was that he had nothing he could hook his anger onto except Soza’s own behaviour. Everyone was settling down to sleep as he came back in. Jou and Sibu slipped out to relieve themselves, but the rest of the soldiers were already wrapped in blankets and huddled on the thick furs. Soza was tucked in too—he’d had a rotten day with the cold and the length of the ride, and he was tired. It wasn’t the time or place to bring up his lack of participation, though Karik wondered why Soza, normally so assiduous about not causing offence, was being so careless of his teammate’s feelings. He missed the innocent enjoyment he’d once had in Soza’s company, and didn’t welcome the new awareness of his friend’s faults. He felt he was losing something he valued, and he put the blame for that fairly and squarely on lieutenant arse’s broad shoulders. He slept well enough because he was tired, though he woke several times, disturbed by the soft sounds of his companions. He was astonished how warm he was—almost too warm—and marvelled again at the efficiency of the tent. The trouble of carrying such a bulky item and of having to erect it had proved to be well worth it. The next few days were more enjoyable than he’d expected, since he’d not thought there would be much to see in the cultivated regions. He owed that enjoyment to Wepizi, who, to Karik’s surprise, spent a good bit of each day riding alongside him, quietly pointing out the subtle features of the landscape, the signs of the small animals emerging from their winter sleep as the thaw began, and the plants shyly springing into life. The lep was a modest man, deprecating his own talents, but Karik was astonished how much he knew about the natural history of his land, and how keen his observations were. Broadly intelligent, tolerant, pacific and ever enquiring, he was quite unlike any soldier Karik had ever met, except for Arman. And Arman wasn’t typical of anyone. Wepizi didn’t carry all the conversation. He was intensely curious about Karik’s background, asking him frankly but without the least prurience about his Prijian ancestry, and how he had come to
be raised as a Darshianese. Karik was happy to tell him, and to talk about his family in a general way, but though he liked Wepizi a good deal, he was conscious of how close he was to Romi. Karik had no intention of giving lieutenant arse more information he could twist in his own special way, so he skirted around the topic of Jes and her conception, and the precise details of his own. It was, he decided, no one else’s business, and Wepizi was far too polite to press him. Feeling guilty about abandoning Soza, he tried to spend a little time each day riding beside him, but it wasn’t enough apparently. “We should be preparing our notes,” Soza said with a sniff as Karik dropped back down the line to talk to him, after spending an hour’s enjoyable conversation with Wepizi about the nesting habits of waterfowl. “You forget your position on this mission.” “Our role is to collect information, and Lep Wepizi is very knowledgeable.” “He’s only a soldier, and an untrained one at that. Next thing you’ll be telling me I needn’t have bothered coming and that we could have left it all to the military.” Karik repressed a sigh. “Of course not. But even an untrained person can bring us valuable observations.” “Then why don’t you wait until there’s something worth observing? I fail to see how Wepizi can be telling you anything you want to know about farmland.” Karik smiled, made some anodyne comment, and then found an excuse a few minutes later to move up the line again, so he didn’t quarrel with his friend. Soza was finding it hard, and being ignored by the only person he felt understood his interests wasn’t helping. At the same time, Soza’s isolation was self-inflicted, and since he’d dismissed Karik’s tentative attempts to get him to play a bigger part in the team tasks as being beneath his interest, Karik couldn’t help hoping that the experience of being ignored might inspire Soza to work it out on his own. He was beginning to resent his unwanted role as Soza-wrangler. Soza wasn’t the only one who begrudged Wepizi’s friendliness. More than once, Karik had looked up to see Romi giving him a long, hard look, and Karik couldn’t really see it as anything but jealousy. He thought Wepizi had noticed it too, but had ignored it—in his own gentle way, Wepizi was a dreadful prankster, and probably thought it amusing to pull his friend’s tail. Romi never said anything. Not that he had better dare. But Karik wasn’t just there as entertainment. The long, low Gunozidei range was coming closer, and the flat, apparently empty land of the marshes could now be seen at the edge of the obviously cultivated farms. The thaw was, just as Wepizi had promised, upon them with astonishing speed, and crisp snow was quickly turning slushy. Under the melting snow, early bulbs were shooting, and the trees were budding almost as Karik watched. There was still little of botanical interest, though he kept a close eye out for anything new or unusual. What was more interesting was the game the soldiers were bringing in. Though Soza knew more about the distribution patterns of animals, he wasn’t much of an anatomist—that was Karik’s speciality, thanks to Kei’s diligent training, and though they couldn’t tarry to let him really examine the carcasses, he was able to make quick sketches of the doigs and dowkiqu and weti as they were butchered, and to preserve a few feathers from the birds shot down from the air.
Romi, he had to admit, was a fine shot, and always brought his birds down cleanly, almost if he was killing them for a reference collection rather than for their supper. Ever curious, Wepizi wanted to know everything about the process, and loved to watch Karik sketching. “Such skill,” Wepizi said admiringly, as Karik drew a dead liti bird, brought down earlier by Romi’s bow and which would be part of their supper the following evening. “But these are common— why do you need to record them?” “Well, for one thing, they’re not common in Darshian. For another, we can use the sketches to produce identification guides if people come back to Andon. Litis can easily be confused with riqizits, and several other species. I’m trying to make a note of what distinguishes them from other birds.” “Their song,” Netu said as he joined them. Others of the team, as they always did in the evenings, had come to sit close by, listening to Karik and Wepizi talk. “That’s how you can tell them from riqizits.” “Very true, Netu, well observed,” Karik said. “But if I was a female liti and I had to wait until I heard the male sing before I knew the bird on my back was the right species, I’d be a little nervous.” Sibu gave him a grin for that comment. “Fortunately for them, they don’t. See this?” He pointed to a thin white bar above the beak. “Riqizits are yellow there, and their bib is reddish, not blackish.” “So they’re just different versions of the same bird?” Tiro asked. “Some might say that. I don’t think so—have any of you seen the two types together, or nesting together? Wepizi?” “Never, my friend. We consider them different.” “And that’s significant,” Karik said. “This is what’s so important about talking to the locals—we can only see the animals and plants for a brief window in time. They have generations of knowledge to draw on. It helps when they have a good eye too,” he added, with a little bow to Wepizi, who smiled at the compliment. As he continued his little lecture, he noticed Soza was, as usual, steadfastly ignoring the activity. More than once he’d openly wondered why Karik bothered to teach people who weren’t actively interested in natural history, and more than once, Karik had wondered why Soza was such a damn snob. His own opinion of the soldiers was undergoing something of a change. He saw now they were as capable as he was of understanding the subtleties of the natural world and the interactions of organisms if only someone could be bothered to explain it. It would not be their primary concern, any more than how to use a sword would be his—but there was no essential difference between his abilities and theirs. Besides, Kei and Karik’s own parents had impressed on him that learning and teaching were always good things. If Karik scattered seeds and some fell on barren ground, that didn’t mean some might not bear fruit. Soza’s approach meant you were guaranteed never to be pleasantly surprised, and Karik preferred his own way to Soza’s. The other person who remained aloof was Romi, though Karik got the impression it was not so much out of snobbery as wariness. The lieutenant always watched them closely, though from a distance
and never participating himself. Was he just trying to make sure Karik didn’t slip up? Or was he hoping to learn without making it obvious that someone he despised could teach him something? Karik couldn’t tell, and really didn’t care. He continued to teach, Romi continued to watch and if Romi’s own barren ground suddenly bore fruit, then Karik was prepared to be gracious about it. If not, then he wouldn’t be disappointed.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Staying Power: 15 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ “There, my friend,” Wepizi whispered. “Seen them,” Romi muttered back, taking careful aim with his crossbow. Wepizi’s arrow flew to its homing just as his own arrow struck the other waterfowl in a small puff of snow and feathers. “Well done—that’s supper.” “Perhaps—they’ll be poor eating at this time of year. We could do with a couple more.” “If we can take some more, well and good but I’m not turning these down.” They walked carefully across the frozen ground, testing to see if they were truly on dirt or over water which, with the thaw, could be unreliable. Wepizi picked the dead birds up, hefted them for weight and pulled the bolts from their carcasses. “Not bad at all. Good shot, Romi—our beautiful man will be pleased at the clean kill.” “As if I care,” Romi scoffed, though the idea of Karik being impressed despite himself wasn’t displeasing. As Wepizi tied the legs of the birds together, and then attached them to his belt, Romi had a question that had been burning for a day or two now. “Wepizi, you’re not...getting a bit too fond of Karik, are you? He’s got a lover, you know that.” His friend was unperturbed by his words. “I know that, my friend. Karik is just good company. A charming young man, I find him. Genuine. I like him a good deal. But no more than that. My heart has no room for another.” “Good,” Romi said with relief. The last thing Wepizi needed was a failed romance, and that would be the outcome of his pursuing someone as arrogant as Karik. “But I think you are wrong about one thing, Romi. Lovers they may be, but they are not in love.” “Oh?” Romi was scanning the landscape for more prey for his bow, but he was listening intently to Wepizi’s words. “Soza’s jealous enough if you spend any time talking to Karik.” “Yes, so he is, and quite possessive. Karik is, as you said, very solicitous of him, but yet...I do not sense any strong feeling, at least from him.” Romi grinned. “Become a soul-toucher, have you?” Wepizi shook his head at Romi’s cheekiness. “I grant you that it’s not exactly a deathless romance, not on the face of it, but people are different in how they conduct such things.” “Perhaps,” Wepizi said peaceably. “And I don’t know either of them well, though I say to you frankly, that Soza is a poor mate for Karik.” “He’s a poor mate for a jombeker if you ask me. When I get back to Darshek, I’ll be telling Karik’s honoured uncles just what I think of them foisting that bastard on us.”
Wepizi grinned. “I imagine you will be your usual diplomatic self, my friend, and they tell me Lord Arman is tough enough to bear it.” “Don’t much care—if he isn’t, he can lead an expedition with pissing Soza—” He halted suddenly. “Wepizi...?” “I see him.” Wepizi straightened and waved. “Welcome, my friend. I bring greetings from his majesty and his council.” At first their silent, fur-clad observer seemed to be ignoring them, but then he walked over, and gave a sketchy bow. “I am Fezerir.” He had his hand on his belt knife, and held a rather fierce-looking axe in clear warning. If he’d been hunting, he’d had no obvious luck. Wepizi bowed and gave his own name and rank. “This is Romi, of Darshian. We are leading a group investigating the natural history of Andon, and mapping these territories.” “Seen them. Not travelling covert, are you?” “No, my friend, we have nothing to hide,” Wepizi said with a grin. “We have people who would like to speak with your healers, your wise men and women. We have gifts for your tribe, if you are willing to accept them.” Fezerir gave Wepizi a long, assessing look. “Three may come with you. No more. The rest must stay where they are.” “Romi?” “That’s fine, thank you. Will you come with us back to the camp?” Fezerir nodded. Romi saw him eyeing the waterfowl on Wepizi’s belt. “You’re welcome to the game,” he said politely. “They’re yours, not ours.” “Keep them. We have better,” he said with a sniff. “Waste of an arrow, such as these.” “No doubt. We are inexperienced in your ways and would like to learn what you are willing to teach us.” “Yes, I’m sure you’d like that,” Fezerir said dryly. Not any pushover, this man. The rest of the team were camped about a mile away. Karik and Pali had both requested a day’s break to survey the marshlands, and Romi had been glad of the chance to do some stocking up since it hardly needed all of them to do the scientific work. After two weeks on the road, there was any amount of repairing and maintenance to do on weapons, saddles and even on the tent, and as Romi and the other two approached, he could see people working on it and their crossbows. Karik was sitting by the fire, talking to Soza, and spotted them first. Romi was pleased to see him give a courteous bow to their visitor, and that gave the cue to the rest of the team, including Soza. “Everyone, this is Fezerir. We’ve explained what we’re doing and he’s agreed to have three of us along with Wepizi to visit their camp. Karik, you and Netu get your gear and come with me.” “Wait a minute, lieutenant!” Soza came over to him—for the sake of the watching Fezerir, Romi kept a pleasant smile on his face. “As senior researcher, I should—”
“Stay here and supervise the plant collecting,” Karik quickly interrupted. “Soza, I’ll just be talking to the healers about medical things.” Soza turned and gave his lover a hostile look, but Karik kept smiling in a friendly way until Soza gave up and turned to Romi with a scowl. “Very well, but we’ll speak of this later, lieutenant.” “Captain,” Romi couldn’t help but correcting. “And I’m sure we will, but right now, I don’t want to waste any more of Fezerir’s time. Kepi, tell Jou and Taz to keep the camp together here, and go no further east until we return. We’ll be back by....” He turned to Fezerir. “Do you wish us to stay overnight?” “We’ll see,” was the cryptic answer. Perhaps as good as he could expect from the man. “If we’re not back by noon tomorrow, then be concerned. Otherwise, not,” Romi told his friend. “ Fezerir, your camp is how far, and in which direction?” “Three miles, that way,” he said grudgingly, waving his hand northeast. “Thank you. Sibu, Kepi, could you bring the hides? Friend, will you allow us to ride our beasts? May we offer you an animal to use?” Though he appeared disdainful, Romi could tell Fezerir was wild with curiosity to try riding an urs beast. It was equally obvious he had never done anything like it before, though he gathered up the reins with great confidence. “Does this thing speak Andonese?” “They’re multi-lingual, as are my friends,” Wepizi said, his eyes twinkling with amusement. “Does the saddle suit you?” “It’s like riding a bed,” he said dismissively, which made Romi smile to himself. Karik and Netu had mounted up and waited respectfully for them to continue. Romi was curious at the way Karik had stepped in so quickly to stop Soza’s rant, and wondered for whose benefit it had principally been. He was grateful, but cynical about the reasons. Fezerir wasn’t inclined to chat. He had the air of someone with some authority in his tribe, and since he was easily forty, possibly older, he might be an elder, Romi supposed. He wondered if Fezerir had really been hunting alone, and if they were being observed even now. He had his answer as they saw the smoke from cooking fires and the low roofs of habitation, at first invisible against the landscape, but once Romi spotted the first one, they were easy to detect. It was clearly a semi-permanent settlement, and though there were one or two tents, the rest of the huts were made of reeds and felt, their low conical roofs encrusted with thick snow. This, Wepizi had said, was intentional as it helped keep the heat in—odd to use snow to stay warm, but Romi had no reason to doubt his friend’s word. Men and women, all with weapons of some kind, stood ready for them. Romi was careful to keep an amiable smile on his face, though he was still muffled up in hood and scarf. Fezerir indicated that Wepizi should dismount and follow him. “Wait here,” he ordered Romi and the others.
As soon as Fezerir and Wepizi disappeared into one of the larger huts, silent, staring tribal people surrounded the others. “Hello,” Romi ventured, pulling his hood away so their watchers could see his face and his expression. There was no reaction, but then, a moment later, there was a collective gasp and fingers were pointed behind him. Romi turned—Karik had followed his lead, and his bright hair and beard had got everyone’s attention. “He’s harmless, I promise,” he said loudly, glad that Karik had the sense to paste a wide, slightly vacuous smile on his face. “My name is Romi, and I am from Darshian.” There was no lessening in the suspicion, and weapons remained pointed or aimed at them for the entire time it took for Wepizi and Fezerir to emerge from the hut, along with an elderly couple, dressed liked the rest of the village in thick furs, though their heads were bare. Like the other tribesmen, the newcomers were taken aback to see Karik, and there was a hasty discussion which Romi couldn’t hear. Fortunately, Wepizi had discussed this situation with Karik, and Karik was, at least so far, sticking strictly to instructions—keeping quiet, looking pleasant, and waiting to be told to do so before he moved. Wepizi signalled for them all to dismount, and so they did, with deep formal bows which were rather less deeply returned by the elderly couple. Wepizi introduced the three of them, but it was Karik whose presence required explanation. “Karik, tell the headman about yourself, please.” Karik bowed again. “Certainly. I am Karik from Ai-Albon. I was born in Utuk, but raised in Darshian since I was a tiny baby. I am trained as a healer, and study medicinal plants and the anatomy of all creatures. I am honoured to be in your presence and in your land.” “Healer?” This was the elderly woman. “Yes, my lady.” There was a titter from behind Romi at the courtly term. “Though I am poorly skilled compared with my friend, Netu.” “Is that hair real?” Karik turned to the woman who’d asked and smiled. “Would you like to feel it?” He pulled his braid out of his coat and let it dangle. The woman was quite young, and holding an infant. As she approached, Karik held out the tail of the braid to the child, who seized it eagerly and gave it a hearty tug. “Ouch, ouch, ouch,” he said with a comical wince, which made several of the other women laugh. “Such a strong baby. A fine child.” That won him a smile, and at his urging, the mother of the baby touched the length of his braid. “Soft!” she said in amazement. “Hair like a girl,” one of the men said scornfully. “Yes, only prettier,” Karik said, grinning. There was more laughter as Romi and Netu revealed their own braids, and Wepizi made a scornful comment about the trouble of grooming them. Romi responded with his usual teasing, noting the tension in the tribesmen had decreased quite considerably—Karik was now capably holding the child who had tugged his hair, and talking to its mother in a low voice.
The headman and woman watched this for several minutes, and then he gestured sharply, turning on his heel and clearly expecting to be followed. Fezerir spoke. “You, come with us.” “You” seemed to be all their group, not just Romi. Karik handed the child back but left his braid exposed. Several men took their beasts away after they were permitted to remove the supplies and hides they had brought as a gift to their hosts. Other tribesmen directed the four of them to the large hut into which Fezerir had gone earlier. It wasn’t a home, as Romi had thought, but some kind of communal meeting room, and after they were invited to sit on thick doig hides, a number of tribesmen and women filed in after them and also took their seat, although at some distance. In the centre of the hut a metal box held an open fire, its smoke rising through the central aperture in the roof, just as it did in their own tent. “Tell me, man of Darshian, why you have brought the enemy to our land?” Romi didn’t dare look at Karik as he answered the headman. “Karik is not our enemy, sir. He was raised in Darshian. But the Prij are not our enemy either.” “I remember when the council asked the tribes to send fit healthy men to help build the great sea defences. That was because of the Prij. I remember the war that the Prij waged against your people and when you asked for our help. Why do you bring the enemy to our land?” There was a general nodding and muttered agreement. “Captain, may I?” Romi turned and nodded at Karik. “Yes, you’re the best one to explain it.” “Sir, I am not your enemy. I am as Darshianese as Romi or Netu. My father is Reji of Ai-Albon, my mother is Jena of Ai-Albon. My uncle is Kei of Ai-Albon.” The headman continued to listen without giving anything away. “But my other uncle is Lord Arman of Ai-Albon, once of Utuk, a Prij but also a Ruler of Darshek. I was born in Kuprij, raised in Darshian and I journey now to Andon to learn of your healing plants, and to bring your healers medicines and useful things from my uncle Kei. Uncle Kei is the most famous healer in Darshian, and humbly asks for your help.” The headman grunted and consulted his wife in a whisper. It was she who answered. “My name is Hedcuzi. I am the tribe’s healer. What gifts do you bring?” Karik signalled to Netu, who opened the pack prepared for this. Karik held up a small pot. “This is a salve to help prevent infection. There isn’t much here but I have the recipe written in your language so you can make more. You should be able to find the ingredients or I can suggest alternatives.” He handed over the pot and recipe. She sniffed at it carefully, and he extended his hand so she could apply it to his skin. “It’s good over shallow wounds which have been dirty, once you have cleaned them. But we have teas and powders to give when the infection is more systemic.” “We have such things,” she said with a sniff. “If someone falls sick, we give them fidweki to drink.” “Fidweki? Is that a plant?”
“Dried leaves of the fidweki plant, ground with powdered lism.” He looked puzzled. “The green plant that grows on the bark of trees.” “Oh, lichen, yes. And can you use it when the person is very sick, or do you give it before they become so ill?” “Both, but it is better if you do not wait.” “We have something like this too—we’ve brought you oivi mould extract which you give in small pellets, mixed with dough or bread.” He pantomimed the action. “We’re looking for as many different cures as we can, because not all illnesses are susceptible to the same drugs.” She held another whispered conversation with her husband, then rose. “I will speak with you in my hut. You two,” pointing to Romi and Wepizi, “stay.” “Yes, Hedcuzi.” A younger woman rose and took the headwoman’s arm. Karik and Netu followed her at a respectful distance out of the hut. Her husband gave Romi a hard glare. “If you bring harm to my people, I will kill you myself.” “I would expect no less of you, sir.” “My name is Lozinke.” “I am Romi of Temshek, an officer of the army of South Darshian.” “Hmmm. So you bring the enemy and a foreign army, Wepizi.” “The Darshianese are our friends, Lozinke, and Romi’s not here in a military capacity. The Darshianese use their army to help with scientific expeditions and many other tasks—Romi and his men have spent several weeks training for this, and have been carefully chosen. I believe their work serves the benevolent god and his children well. Their purpose is entirely peaceful, and I would not be with them if it wasn’t. “ “It was Master Kei’s idea,” Romi said. “Karik is one of the people he’s sent all over Darshian looking for new cures for illness, and whatever knowledge they get, they share. They have people from all over Periter at the academy in Darshek, learning, training, teaching.” “Like the academy in Visiqe?” Lozinke asked Wepizi. “Much bigger, and they run an infirmary, a research garden—your entire settlement would fit three times over into the gardens behind the building alone.” That drew some astonished muttering from the listeners, and Wepizi grinned. “They’ve discovered some wonderful things there, and have worked closely with our academy and learned people in Kuprij. They have no boundaries—a sick man is a sick man, those who would teach, can. They don’t care what colour his skin or his hair.” “They can afford that luxury,” Lozinke said darkly. “Why do you need so many men to collect plants?”
“We’re also making maps and collecting rocks. Your council is just as anxious to have this survey made as we are,” Romi said. “There aren’t teams who can do this easily in your army, and they were glad when the Darshek academy made the offer. There is no military purpose.” “Maps can be used in war.” “Maps can be used for many things, Lozinke, as can minerals and drugs. The Darshianese have never been your enemy.” “No, but you make friends with those who have been.” He glanced towards the doorway—he was clearly still worried about Karik’s presence on the team. “I don’t understand how a Prij comes to call himself Darshianese. I’ve never heard of one being Andonese, or any Andonese being raised in Darshian.” “It’s a complicated story, to do with the war so I understand it. It’s certainly unique in Darshian, but Karik has never lived in Kuprij and doesn’t think of himself as Prijian,” Romi explained, though he knew this wasn’t strictly true. “The decision was taken when he was only a few weeks old—I’ve met people who were there at the time and have verified that. I assure you he’s been thoroughly tamed.” Lozinke gave him a brief smile at that. “You Darshianese come with your own leashes, so it’s easy to tame you. Now, explain your route to me.” As Romi and Wepizi began to describe how they planned to cover the territory east of Visiqe, tea sweetened with tree sap was served, and handfuls of nuts and dried berries placed before them. Later, as the discussions drifted onto more general topics, soup was served and at that point Romi realised they had been there for hours. Still no sign of Karik, but he’d heard no bloodcurdling yells so he had to assume things were going well. It was the middle of the afternoon before Hedcuzi, Karik and Netu returned to the hut, and judging by their expressions, it had been a pleasant experience for all. Lozinke rose to speak to his wife, and then turned to Romi. “My wife says she would like to speak again to your people and learn more of your work. You may return tomorrow.” Romi and Wepizi rose. “Thank you. Have you any objections if the rest of our team explore further east while we’re occupied?” “No. I will send guides tomorrow to help your work.” Romi bowed. “Thank you, once again.” Lozinke grunted in acknowledgement. His wife bowed to Karik and Netu who bowed back. “Tomorrow, we will look for the plants I told you about,” she said. “Thank you, Hedcuzi. I’ll bring my sketches and notes,” Karik said. The headwoman nodded, and then it was clear it was time for them all to leave. The atmosphere was definitely friendlier on their departure. Karik was again surrounded by people wanting to touch his hair, but the beasts also excited much comment—Romi and Wepizi spent a little time letting people get up into the saddles, and led the children for short rides, promising to give them
more turns the following day. Fezerir, who had turned out to be Lozinke’s son, watched it all with a faint smile, clearly approving. It had been a very good beginning. As they rode back, Wepizi expressed the same opinion, and Romi thought it was rather amusing to see Karik’s flush of pleasure at Wepizi’s direct praise. “No doubt at all, my friend, you handled that like a master. You’ve won them over almost single-handedly.” “Netu was there too,” Karik murmured. “Netu wasn’t seen as an enemy, and you had the biggest hurdle to cross,” Romi interjected. “Wepizi’s right. You did very well indeed, and did Darshian proud.” It was even more amusing watching Karik’s emotions warring between delight at the honest praise and annoyance that it came from someone he disliked. Romi didn’t care. He knew how much of their success they owed to Karik, and he believed in praise where it was deserved. Karik could do what he liked with it, and from the slight smile he had on his face as they rode back to camp, he wasn’t entirely displeased at Romi’s words. It was near dark as they arrived back at the camp, and Taz and Sibu were already on watch as Romi and the others handed over their animals. Karik disappeared inside the tent while Romi spoke to his people, but rather to his surprise, came out not long after with Soza in tow. It looked like Soza wanted to continue his earlier complaint against Romi, but Karik drew him away to the far side of the tent to speak to him first. Romi watched them talking as he carried out his own conversation. Karik was all smiles and hand waving, obviously eager to share his enthusiasm and pleasure in their success with his lover. But then his happy expression melted away, to be replaced by a flush of embarrassment and apology as Soza ranted and raved at him. You bastard. You miserable, selfish, stupid bastard. Even though he didn’t like Karik, it was so unfair that Soza wasn’t interested in what Karik had achieved, and was only concerned with his own petty wounded pride, slapping Karik’s excitement down out of pure petulance. Wepizi was right—Soza was a poor lover for Karik. Arrogant, Karik might be, but at least he could back up his arrogance. Romi had yet to see the slightest indication that Soza’s self-satisfaction was justified in the least. He just knew Soza would challenge him, and so he could maintain a bored expression as the pompous fool marched over to him, Karik a little way behind him, looking miserable. “I shall be in charge of the scientific discussions in that village tomorrow,” Soza announced, interrupting Romi’s conversation without the least apology. Romi turned to look at him. “Will you now.” “Yes, I damn well will. It’s outrageous you made that high-handed decision this morning without the least consultation. Scientific decisions are my responsibility, not yours.” “Really.” “Yes, really.”
He stood there, hands on hips, clearly waiting for Romi to capitulate. “Right. Well, since you put things so nicely, this is how it’s going to be. Not only will you not be entering that settlement tomorrow, you will not be entering any settlement. I don’t want you coming into contact with any tribesman whatsoever.” “What?” He was so angry, Romi honestly thought he might have a heart attack on the spot. “You have no right—” “Yes, actually, I do. One, the decision isn’t about science, it’s about diplomacy and that is my responsibility. Two, unless you’re going to tell me Karik’s incompetent to carry out the kind of discussion he managed so capably today, there’s not the slightest need for your presence, and if collecting is to go on while we’re visiting settlements, then you can supervise that. Three, you’re an arrogant bastard and turning you down is a pleasure all on its own.” Romi heard the distinct sound of laughter being choked down from behind him, and he had to wonder what Wepizi made of this display. Soza was incandescent. “You...I shall report you! I won’t stand for this!” “Go right ahead and report me. As for not standing for it, too bad. If you don’t like it, you can leave—but while you’re with us, you’re subject to my authority. I’ve judged you unfit to deal with the tribal people based on weeks of observations of your interactions with this team. You can argue all you want, but I’m not changing my mind. And if you don’t agree with it, that’s too bad too. Now go inside and stop wasting my time.” Soza’s face was now so red, Romi really did think he was on the verge of dropping dead. “Karik, are you going to let him get away with this? Are you going to stand there and let him put you ahead of me?” What a shitty thing to do. Romi wondered which way Karik would jump, not that he would change his mind—but it might mean the mission was over almost before it started. Better that than to have Soza and his lousy manners start a war—Romi had been of that opinion before he’d met the tribal people and now he had, he was even more convinced that sending Soza into a settlement would be about as productive as throwing an explosive at them, and probably even more offensive. “Soza, why don’t you sleep on it, let things—” “Tell me! Are you going to support this decision?” Karik’s face, even in the flickering light of the fire, was pink with obvious embarrassment. “The captain has ultimate authority. Whether I agree is irrelevant.” “But do you agree with it or not?” Drop it, you pissing fool. Can’t you see he doesn’t want to answer? “I...think it won’t cause too much harm. We do need someone to supervise the collecting—” “But this is outrageous! How can you let him speak to me this way?” “Soza, I don’t have any influence on the captain’s thoughts, as you know. As you said, you can make a report, and so can I, but all that matters is that we carry out the task.” Karik gave Romi a cold look. “Personal feelings can’t come into it, nor likes or dislikes.”
“I can’t believe...your uncle would be very disappointed in you.” Then Soza stomped off and flung open the tent flap. There was a moment or two of embarrassed silence while everyone tried not to meet anyone else’s eyes. “You could have handled that more politely, captain,” Karik said finally. “You didn’t need to humiliate him in that manner.” “He chose the venue, not I, and he’s not exactly amenable to subtle hints, is he?” “How would you know? You spend all your time looking down at him, so you have no idea what he’s really like.” Romi really didn’t care to find out either. “Fine, I’m a bastard, but my decision stands—even more so after that display, because if he can’t treat us with respect, he won’t treat them with respect.” “If that’s your decision, then so be it. Is that all?” “Yes, go on. But he’s wrong about one thing.” Karik turned to look at him. “About what?” “Your uncle. I don’t think he’d be disappointed at all.” He’d known he was pushing it, so he wasn’t surprised to get another icy glare. “Leave him out of this, captain. I’m the one on this mission, not him.” And then he stalked off, presumably to soothe the injured feelings of his lover. “Oh, gods,” Taz said with a grin. “This is more fun than a travelling show. He’s been spitting blood all day, you know.” Romi sighed. “Yes, I can imagine. You can also imagine the depth of my sorrow at that fact. Forget about it, and let me handle the bastard. You two warm enough? I guess soup and tea will be coming out to you in a bit.” The two soldiers assured him they were fine. Netu had already disappeared into the tent before the fireworks had started, so Romi and Wepizi walked back alone. “He’s right—you could have handled that more diplomatically,” Wepizi said, stroking his moustache thoughtfully. “I notice you’re not saying I was wrong to make the decision.” “Not at all, my friend. But he will cause you trouble, if he can.” “Let him—he doesn’t have the influence he thinks he does, and I wouldn’t care if he did. Look at how he treats his lover, if you want proof of his attitude.” “Ah yes. I feel sorry for Karik, being put in that position.” “He put himself there,” Romi said unsympathetically. “If he wants to delude himself that Soza is perfect, that’s up to him, but I’ve got a team and a mission to consider. The sooner he wakes up to who he’s tied himself to, the better, I think.” “One would almost think you wanted them to part for your own purposes, my friend,” Wepizi said with a slight grin.
“I don’t think so,” Romi said dryly. “I just can’t stand people making a hash of their life, that’s all.” “Of course. Why would I think otherwise?” “Gods, you’re a pain in the arse sometimes, Wepizi.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Staying Power: 16 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Karik hadn’t realised how isolated he could be in a group of over a dozen people, but the week that followed Romi and Soza’s argument had proved it nicely, if he’d ever had an ambition to know. He honestly didn’t know who he was angrier with—his enemy, or his friend for putting him in the distasteful position of having to side with his enemy against his friend. Of course, lieutenant arse had managed to upset Soza as thoroughly as possible, but Soza was being ridiculous. Worse, so far as Soza was concerned, Karik couldn’t offer him the validation he so clearly wanted, nor agree to ignore Romi’s orders. When Karik had finally said that he had no intention of disobeying the decision, Soza had sulked for days, and only knowing that it would give too much satisfaction to the great arse had stopped Karik from telling Soza to grow up and put his stupid pride aside. He didn’t understand why a man so devoted to science didn’t just want the mission to succeed however it could. He did understand why Romi wanted Soza to keep away from the proud and touchy tribesmen, and he knew perfectly well that Soza had amply demonstrated Romi’s point for him by his display of temper. But he couldn’t talk to Soza about Romi, or to Romi about Soza, or to anyone else about the pair of them. He didn’t even dare confide his feelings in the letters he was writing to his parents and to Kei, to be sent from Visiqe when they finally arrived there. He didn’t want them to worry, or to give people the wrong impression about Soza and the work they were doing. Soza was planning to write a blistering condemnation of Romi for Arman. Karik would make his own report, but it would have to cover Soza’s own failings, if Karik was to be as scrupulously fair as he always tried to be. All he could do was to do his job, and avoid talking to either man more than he had to. Wepizi was sympathetic, and made it clear that he would listen if Karik wanted to talk, but again, Karik was wary of him. Not that he distrusted Wepizi, but he definitely didn’t trust Romi, and he wasn’t taking any chances—he’d already put himself out on a limb by publicly supporting him against Soza, and he wouldn’t make himself a hostage to fortune any more than that. He just found it all incredibly tiring and tiresome, and if it weren’t for the fact they were achieving more than he’d ever hoped to, even in this short time, he’d have taken a beast and ridden back to Tsikiugui. Romi, of course, seemed unaffected by his civilians’ discomfort, and Soza eventually got over his sulk—mainly, Karik thought a little uncharitably, because no one else would talk to him while he was like this. In fact, after Soza stopped sulking, his manners seemed somewhat improved, although if he was hoping Romi would change his mind, he was to be disappointed. In Romi’s position, Karik wouldn’t have risked it either, but he would have died before admitting that fact to either man. The mission continued regardless of these petty quarrels, and was all that Kei and Karik had hoped for. Karik was keeping careful notes of his discussions with the healers in the settlements, and samples of the drugs and herbs they gave him to take back to Darshek. Already, he had learned of new
treatments for heavy monthly bleeding, burns, heart trouble and wound infections which looked very promising indeed and about which Kei would be delighted to hear—this was exactly the kind of information a city-bred man like Jezinke hadn’t been able to provide. Until now, no one had put much stock in the local knowledge of the tribal peoples, although Karik and his uncle had both felt it was a great untapped resource. So it had proved to be, and when he found himself getting depressed over yet another squabble between Romi and Soza (the two clashed on a daily basis over the most minor of matters), he took comfort from anticipating Kei’s reaction to his reports. He wouldn’t see that reaction, not at first. They would be sending off their collections and notes and diaries from Visiqe and hopefully, Kei would be looking it all over months before Karik returned. Andon was turning out to be even more beautiful and wild than Karik had imagined. The plants and animals were making the most of the improving weather—muddy quagmires and apparently lifeless trees were now clothed in green, early flowers setting bright spots of colour everywhere one looked, the air full of song as birds mated and fought for nesting sites, and game, both big and small, was suddenly much more varied and plentiful. Karik insisted each kill be treated like any other specimen before it was eaten, and though Soza had little interest in fauna, Karik’s experience had taught him that one could not ignore it. How the animals interacted with the plants, what they fed on, and what they pollinated, was all important if the plants were to be successfully introduced to Darshian —and they were not to become pests. At least he hadn’t had to argue the point with Romi—Karik had made his request, and the order had been given immediately. He wondered if Romi actually gave a damn about the importance of the information, or whether he would agree to anything that didn’t affect the safety of the team. He didn’t much care so long as he got what he needed. The flat marshes had offered little novelty to their geologists or mapmakers but the hills were much more of a challenge to all of them. By the time they reached them, some five weeks after leaving Tsikiugui, the thaw was well underway, and the low-lying areas were almost devoid of snow. Ironically, it had made the travel harder as snow gave way to slushy ground and mud, but from the collecting point of view, it was a feast. Karik was now alert to the signs of the new life springing up, not just from the soil, but from bare rocks, crooks of trees, and the other places that the Andonese flora used to shelter from the harsh climate. Mosses and lichens played an important part in tribal pharmacology and now the snow had retreated, Karik and the others were busily sampling and drying specimens from every nook and cranny. It was getting easier, the travelling, even with the continued hostility between the expedition leader and the senior scientist. Now the collecting had begun in earnest, there was simply less time to waste in whining. Soza was already talking about the next expedition they would mount, this time in summer and autumn instead of the spring, and while Karik had reservations about exactly who should go on such a trip, he had none about its necessity and importance. If it weren’t for Romi’s ability to drive Soza into a fury just by breathing, he would consider the rest of their team perfect for a second mission. Wepizi was a delight—funny, clever and endlessly
patient, he was wonderful at handling the tribal people, not all of whom had been as welcoming as Fezerir’s tribe. Only once had they had been refused access to a settlement—it was more usual to be treated with initial suspicion, followed by varying degrees of grudging welcome. Karik was becoming skilled in using the apparent disadvantage of his Prijian heritage as a way of exciting curiosity and breaking the ice. It was a risky strategy, but it worked, and since he and Netu had done so well in their first contact with the tribes, Romi had decreed that they could continue being the ones to talk to the healers. Netu, whom Karik liked a good deal, was a good choice for this, with his easy, gentle manners and solid practical knowledge of basic medical matters. He complemented Karik’s more theoretical knowledge very well, and it had been a good decision on Romi’s part to team the two of them together. In fact, Karik had to secretly admit, Romi’s decisions were all pretty well considered, and even when he was annoying, he was fair. Yes, he might have taken pleasure in upsetting Soza, but the reasons weren’t based (well, not solely) on his dislike, and Karik had yet to discover him acting purely out of malice. It didn’t make Karik like him any better, but at least it vindicated the vote of confidence Karik had given about him to Arman. After they crossed the Gunozidei range, they followed the fast flowing Epolniki river, swollen with snow melt, northwest to Visiqe, and now the landscape changed again, from the stark volcanic black rocks of the range to a lush riverine valley, with its own sheltered climate and sense of even greater isolation from the rest of Andon. Here the tribal peoples were much more suspicious of them—a hold over from the occupation and revolution, Wepizi said. It was still necessary to win their trust if they could, because the expedition team had to travel through tribal territory. It took all the charm that Romi and Wepizi could muster to even be allowed to speak to the headmen, let alone question their healers, and Karik’s presence was now much more of an obstacle. After a difficult and not very successful meeting with one tribe, Romi called a meeting between the four of them to discuss how to proceed. Netu suggested that they bring Jou with them on the next visit, feeling a woman’s presence might expose a breach in the wall of hostility where the men could not. Romi was sceptical, but agreed to try the plan at least once. The experiment was a decided success. Jou’s friendly, open manner charmed the men of the tribe, and the women were amused at the way she shamelessly teased and harassed Karik and Netu, who played up to it for entertainment. The tribe had never seen a female soldier before, nor a Darshianese woman, and they were nearly as curious about her as they were about Karik. She dandled the babies, and let the women play with her braid, and challenged the men to a spar which she won, to the great embarrassment of the village champion, who was dumped on his arse by a girl half his weight. The headman grinned, and his wife mocked, and after that, the visitors were welcomed with open arms. As they rode back to camp, flushed with success, Romi berated himself for not having thought of bringing Jou with them sooner. “Oh, don’t tell me you’re not infallible, Romi,” she teased. “All right, I won’t—just don’t tell anyone else.” Karik couldn’t resist saying, “I think the secret’s out,” which only made everyone grin—even Romi, rather to his surprise. But then they were all in a good mood. It had been a wonderful day.
As they came back to camp at sunset, the rest of the team had already gathered for a welcome cup of tea and relaxation after a day’s hard work in the field. It was warm enough that they now ate the evening meal outside by a campfire, though they still needed their winter gear against the chill. The tent had lost its charm with the warmer weather, and now everyone, even Soza, preferred to spend time out in the open air. Netu said he would take Karik’s animal, so he removed his packs and went to find a seat beside Soza. “Good day?” his friend asked as Karik sat down. “Yes, very. She was even more of a novelty than me. It worked really well.” Soza scowled, and Karik belatedly realised this was just another reminder of Soza’s exclusion from the settlements. “I see. And although Jou has no special training, she’s able to question these tribesman when I am not.” “She’s a medic, Soza, and you know she’s very adept at the botany—” “And of course, she’s your little friend, so no doubt you didn’t miss my company at all.” Soza got to his feet. “Excuse me, I have some specimens in the tent.” Karik groaned quietly as Soza got up. That had been such a mistake on his part. Sibu noticed his expression. “What’s up his nose now, Karik?” “Um.” Sibu, not being a stupid person, rapidly put the facts together from Karik’s glance over at where Jou and Netu were unsaddling the beasts. “That man’s worse than a baby,” she declared. “I know he’s your friend, Karik, but really.... Is he an only child or something?” “I really don’t know,” Karik said. “I don’t think he’s had much experience working with large groups of people.” But then, neither had he himself, Karik thought. “And he won’t get any more if I have anything to say about it,” she said emphatically. “If I had him under me, he’d be on a discipline every day of his miserable life.” “If he was under you, he’d probably prefer a discipline to that,” Reisa said, which made her punch his arm and try to wrestle him to the ground. At least it covered Karik’s embarrassment at the frank criticism of his friend. For the first few weeks, the soldiers had been more circumspect but now, ironically, the more friendly and equal they felt with Karik, the more honest they had become. While he cherished the comradeship, it made for some uncomfortable conversations—he tried not to take offence since there was no malice involved, and the biting observations all too accurate. He just hoped Soza didn’t think he was participating in the insults. Fortunately, Soza’s anger was short-lived, and he returned to eat supper without referring to the matter. He was getting better at this kind of thing, Karik thought, ever hopeful that Soza and the rest of the team would one day work smoothly together. He seemed to have realised holding onto grudges in a close-knit group like this just rebounded on him, and while he didn’t seem to be able to stop these little outbursts, at least he didn’t sulk for so long afterwards.
As used to the travelling as they had all become, the first glimpse of the tall towers of Visiqe, nestled at the base of one of the huge mountains in the Geriziq range was very welcome. The city was situated above the Jivinki where it split from the Epolniki river, conveniently near an easily traversed pass through the range, and so was the major trading hub in north Andon, as well as its political centre. Its position had allowed the war lords to dominate the country for so long—it had improved its defences considerably from those days, Wepizi said. Evidence of that was obvious as they rode closer —the city was surrounded by a huge wall, breached only in two places by massive gates, and patrolled by well-armed soldiers. Though the marauding tribes and warlords had long ago been beaten back by the Andonese and destroyed by internal dispute, no one was taking any chances. Even the beasts seemed impatient to be done with this part of the journey, or perhaps it was the eagerness of their riders, but there was a spring in everyone’s step as they got to the gates and Wepizi presented his bona fides. Romi had them ride in tidy formation down the crowded streets towards the barracks, but Karik could hardly concentrate for all the sights and sounds. He had thought Darshek huge...but Visiqe was enormous. Not in area, because it was confined by the wall and the mountains, but it was so tall, so crowded...so...large in sound and smell and vision. Karik had never seen so many people together, not people dressed in such a riot of colours. He’d expected nothing like this, after his brief glimpse of drab, flat Tsikiugui and knowing the sober and respectable Andonese who lived in Darshek. It was like all of Periter was crammed into this small space and each person was determined to be noticed. Even the buildings demanded attention, many defying the risk of earthquake with their tall turrets, imitating the snow capped peaks behind them— only the mountains did not sport colourful flags, nor ring with bells that hung from every available support. Wepizi was clearly amused at their astonishment. “Is it not the most beautiful city in the world?” he asked Karik. “Is beautiful the word?” Karik murmured. His only reference was Darshian’s two capitals, and of the two, Darshek was the more gracious—ordered, elegant and carefully controlled to prevent the centre of the city becoming the sprawling mess of its southern cousin. Visiqe was everything that Darshek was not—it was a riot, architecturally heterogeneous, with no obvious plan or thought. It hung its dirty washing out in public, literally and metaphorically, since even on the short trip to the barracks, Karik glimpsed the crowded squalor of the underclass, displaying their dingy clothes on lines across every alley. Heavily armed soldiers were present in good numbers too, many wearing armour, which Karik thought was rather menacing. Wepizi noticed his frown. “Holdover from the war,” he said quietly. “Even now?” “Memories run long and deep, my friends, and our land was deeply scarred. Your own still carries its own wounds from the war with the Prij, does it not?” Karik had to admit this was true, and was glad Kei wasn’t here to see the soldiers.
Others in the team looked around with wide-eyed excitement, and even though Romi rapped out curt commands for everyone to stay in formation, Karik rather thought he was a little wide-eyed too. Soon enough they came to the barracks, which was built of stone, not the rough timber of the Tsikiugui establishment. Their papers were carefully checked and their entrance watched by a good many pairs of eyes—still wary after all these years, Karik noted. But once they dismounted, they were greeted by Wepizi’s counterpart, Lep Rigiz, and warmly welcomed. “Right, everyone, let’s find a bath,” Romi said, clapping Wepizi’s shoulder. There were groans of agreement. Karik would kill—well, seriously annoy someone—for a bath after months where the best they could manage had been quick cloth washes and the occasional dowsing of hair in warmed water when they couldn’t stand the dirt any more. But not everyone was happy at the prospect. “Excuse me, lieutenant.” “Captain,” Romi corrected. “What is it, Soza?” “I’m not staying in the barracks. I understood the need for it in Tsikiugui where facilities are so primitive, but here there are inns and boarding houses, and I want some privacy before we set off again.” Karik almost groaned at Soza bringing this up. Who cared where they slept? “Oh? And why should you be treated so differently from everyone else?” “Because Karik and I are civilians. It’s not appropriate for us to be forced to sleep like the military.” Romi glanced at Karik as if to judge his reaction. “There’s no funds for this, you know that. You’ll have to pay for it yourself.” “Ah, actually,” Wepizi said, smiling apologetically, “I understand his majesty has agreed to cover your expenses, whatever they be, for this part of the journey as he has for the previous part. I doubt he would baulk at the cost of an inn for a few days.” From Romi’s expression, he rather wished his friend had shut up—and Karik did too. “I don’t know the city, and I have no idea what vacancies there are. I’m certainly not going to delay a bath to find out.” Wepizi quickly explained to the Visiqe officer what the problem was. “Allow me,” Lep Rigiz said. “I’ll send someone to book rooms for your people. Two, is it?” Karik had actually been looking forward to the barracks since he’d come to enjoy the company of his friends, but he couldn’t really abandon Soza, so he nodded reluctantly. Romi made a disgusted noise. “As you wish. I expect you to attend the meetings here and I’m not sending people to fetch you. I don’t like this and I’m not making it easy for you.” “That’s perfectly clear, captain,” Karik said, irritated at the lack of graciousness. Soza was being difficult, but Romi knew better than to be like this. It just made it worse, and Karik suspected he did it deliberately.
As they’d been speaking in Darshianese, at least Lep Rigiz hadn’t understood the snottiness, though the tone was unmistakeable. Now, as Romi curtly assented to the arrangement, he smiled politely. “Well, then, my friends, let me arrange the accommodation and have you taken there. You’ll have to wait here until that’s done.” And that was why Karik had to sit, fuming silently, in his reeking clothes and grimy skin, next to a smugly superior Soza, while the rest of the team went off to enjoy the steam room and a thorough, delicious wash. He could have strangled Soza, honestly. It hardly improved his mood when the rooms they were finally directed too—after nearly two hours—were cramped and shabby. To hear Soza described them though, they could have been the finest accommodation offered by the Rulers of Darshek. By this point, Karik didn’t give a damn what Soza thought on any subject. “If I don’t get a bath in the next ten minutes, I swear I’ll do myself or someone else a mischief.” Soza finally noticed his companion was gritting his teeth with irritation. “My dear boy, I’m so sorry. I’m sure the inn has facilities.” And so it had, though not as spacious and clean and friendly as those in the barracks would have been, Karik was quite certain. However, they provided what he desperately needed, and once his hair was washed and groomed, his body clean and his clothes handed over for much needed laundering, he wasn’t inclined to hold a grudge. The discovery that there was a dining hall near the inn which served cheap and generous meals did as much as the bath to improve his mood. “Now, isn’t this better than the barracks?” Soza asked, beaming at him as they finished a delicious stew and washed it down with a berry juice Karik had not encountered before. “I tell you, I’m so glad to get away from those blasted soldiers. This last three months have been a terrible trial.” Karik felt less cross, but not that mellow that he was prepared to let this calumny slide. “I’m sorry you feel that way. I’ve enjoyed it for the most part, and I find our team some of the finest people I’ve ever worked with.” “Is that so? Then I assume you and Lieutenant Romi now see eye to eye on every subject.” “Captain Romi has performed his role with credit. Whatever personal issues I may have with him don’t detract from that.” Gods, he was sick of Soza banging this drum. “You’ve only got to look at the material we’ve gathered, and the information we’ve recorded, to prove that the expedition has been a wonderful success.” He struggled to find a way of turning this conversation in a positive direction. “It may be we’ve even had our hands on the panacea—there are so many medicines we can try now.” Ah, he had found the right key at last. “Now, this is true,” Soza said, smiling brightly. “My word, the drugs the Andonese could be making—of course, they don’t know what they have half the time,” he added dismissively, “and then there are the criminal elements who abuse what might be turned to good use.” “You’re referring to gerot and yimito and the like? We have toxic narcotics too. It’s just that no one seems to be interested in exploiting them.” “Well, we must make allowances for more primitive minds, I suppose.”
Karik flushed, glad they were speaking Darshianese. “Perhaps that’s not a very diplomatic comment to make, considering....” “Oh, you worry too much, Karik,” he said airily. “Now, if you’re finished, we should really present ourselves to the academy here. I’ve got so much I want to do while we’re in Visiqe.”
~~~~~~~~ The perks of being an officer, Romi thought, as he threw himself onto the bunk in the guest quarters Wepizi would use for the next week or so. Of course he was bunking with his team—he could have shared with Wepizi but he’d thought that a little unfair. He regretted that decision now. “I could get used to a bed again,” he said regretfully. “Ah, yes—well, I think you’ll find the sleeping pallets comfortable enough. It’s a well-provided barracks—you might think us primitive in Tsikiugui, but some of the provincial establishments are more barren than sleeping in the open.” That reminded Romi and he sat up, the better to glare at Wepizi. “Speaking of which—why in pissing hells did you let that damn idiot get his way? Now we’ll have to send runners after the pair of them every time we need to have a meeting—it’s not like Soza deserves any special treatment.” “It’s not a matter of ‘deserve’, my friend. They need time together—privately. Have you forgotten already what it is like to have a lover?” “You’re not doing your little friend any favours by pushing them together, you know.” “They are already together, Romi. I am merely being respectful of their relationship.” “You’re an incurable romantic, Wepizi.” Wepizi sat down and gave him a serious look. “To deny love,” he said quietly, “in whatever form, is a sin, and even Soza has a right to that joy. We who now live without it, must make allowances for those who have their chance still.” “Wepizi, you might find another to love. No one could take Lema’s place, but it is possible to love two people in one lifetime.” “Perhaps. I somehow doubt I would find another to whom I could give my whole heart. It would be wrong to hold back, but I cannot pretend that Lema did not take the greatest part of me with her.” “I would never deny your right to grieve, my friend,” Romi said. “There are still many good people in the world. If you believe Lema waits for you, you should believe she will guide you to someone who can accept you and your love for her.” Wepizi smiled. “Now that’s a beautiful thought. Thank you, my friend—it gives me courage. And likewise I believe you will find someone who doesn’t care about your infertility—if our Soza can find a prize like Karik, surely a fine man like you should have no problem.”
“Good point,” Romi admitted. “Mind you, with bastards like him standing guard over lovers so much better than them, maybe there’s nothing left for people like me.” Wepizi’s eyes twinkled, all signs of sadness gone. “So what you’re saying is that you are no competition for someone like Soza?” He dodged the pillow Romi threw at his cheeky head. “Ah, so this is all about your insecurity. I must work harder to help you regain your confidence, my friend.” “You really are a cast iron pain in the arse, lep Wepizi.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Staying Power: 17 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ The academy in Visiqe was a very different and much smaller institution than its sister in Darshek. It did very little actual training and there was a distinctly provincial feel to the academy, though it was responsible for sending publications to medical and technical personnel all over Andon, and for testing new materials and medicines as they were sent to the capital. Kei had trained several of their more senior researchers, so he was well-known to their scholars. Karik presented their papers, and in a very short time, a young man came hurrying out. “Welcome, welcome—Karik, how wonderful to see you again!” Karik was taken aback—he hadn’t expected to see a friend in this place. “Ritizik! I didn’t know you were still here.” He bowed, and then Ritizik embraced him happily. “I came back six months ago when I won the position of translator.” “Ahem.” Karik turned with a guilty start. “Oh, I’m sorry—Ritizik, this is Soza of Urshek. I’m sure you know of his work.” “Indeed,” Ritizik said with a deep and respectful bow. “You are most welcome, Master Soza. The prospect of your arrival has been the subject of much excitement among our scholars.” Soza seemed a little mollified by these gracious words. “Well...thank you. Of course, I have been very eager to meet you all. Are we to do so now?” “Ah, naturally, yes. Come this way. Karik, you’re so thin!” “You try being on the trail for nearly four months, Ritizik, and see if you have a paunch left.” “Good point, my friend.” Karik let Soza walk ahead, sensing his mentor was irritated again. He couldn’t help it if Ritizik knew him and not Soza, but Soza was the established researcher, and Karik had no reputation in that area. They were taken to a library cum meeting room—it was clear the facilities here were nowhere near as spacious as those in Darshian—and at their arrival, the group of Andonese scholars rose as one man and bowed. Ritizik did the honours. “My friends, this is Soza of Urshek, and my friend, Karik of Darshek.” An elderly scholar came to them and bowed, greeting them in rather awkward Darshianese. “Welcome, my friends. I am Jerzwi. Master Soza, we have eagerly awaited your appearance. Is your friend an expert on our flora too?”
“Karik is my student, Jerzwi. A very capable assistant, naturally.” Karik smiled and thought it wasn’t the most polite way Soza could have introduced him—still, they were in Soza’s native environment now, so Karik couldn’t begrudge him a little boasting. That theme continued as Soza was shown around the collections, and asked about the collecting they had done thus far. Ritizik acted as translator for Jerzwi, whose Darshianese was very poor, though rather better than Soza’s Andonese. “Master Jerzwi wishes to know how you found using the soldiers as assistants? We have been considering mounting some smaller expeditions if yours is successful, but our military have no experience in such things.” “My dear fellow, you can’t believe how tiresome it is. You really must try to avoid using soldiers —they’re rude, unhelpful and incredibly clumsy.” “Oh. I am sorry to hear that—it’s most disappointing.” “Soza....” Karik stopped, not wanting to argue the point but at the same time, quite annoyed at this gross misrepresentation. “I don’t think that’s very fair.” Soza gave him a fierce look. “Are you questioning my honesty, Karik?” “No, just—” “Then be quiet. Ritizik asked me the question, not you.” Karik blinked, and Ritizik looked as he wished he was elsewhere. Jerzwi seemed confused, since Ritizik hadn’t translated Soza’s rebuke. “As you wish,” Karik said quietly, seething inwardly. Soza had no business turning the Andonese off their own expeditions. Ritizik looked at him, then at Soza, and fortunately decided this was a matter best left to the two Darshianese. “This way, gentlemen—you will want to see our collections, I’m sure.” Like the rest of the academy, the collection was small, but very useful, and Karik could see several days work ahead of him making notes for the next leg of their journey as well as finishing off the ones to accompany the material being taken back to Darshian. “I understand from Master Jezinke that there is a large medicines market in the city,” Soza said. “I would like to see it, if I may.” “We can arrange a visit when it is convenient,” Ritizik said. “You only have to say the word.” “I also understand you keep a store of prohibited drugs here?” Ritizik translated, and Jerzwi nodded. “Yes, we do. Presumably the master explained that possession of gerot and similar substances is strictly forbidden. However, the king and council have graciously allowed us to keep a reference collection, since they understand such drugs may have a medicinal use. They are carefully controlled, of course, and a government official conducts an annual inventory. We must account for every ounce or there would be consequences.” Ritizik showed Karik and Soza the surprisingly large store of drugs held in a cabinet at the end of the reference collection room. “Little is being done,” he said with regret. “We simply do not have people with the knowledge as yet to profitably do so. We have several young people at the Darshek
academy who we hope will bring back the necessary skills, but as always in Andon, we have more riches than we have people to use them.” “Such a shame,” Soza said, looking distracted. “Well now, we should make a start. Karik, I want you to keep notes.” That wasn’t what Karik had planned at all, and being set a clerk’s task when he had so much of his own work to do, just added to his disgruntlement. Four months away from Darshian had dulled his diplomatic skills, however, because he was unsuccessful in hiding his irritation from his friend. Soza took him to task as soon as they were outside the academy gates. “My word, Karik, I hadn’t realised you could be so impossibly rude.” “I’m sorry, but you shouldn’t slander our team like that.” Soza stopped dead. “I beg your pardon, young man—are you accusing me of a crime?” “No, of course not—” “I should hope not. I spoke honestly and it is my sincere belief that we could have done much better with a civilian workforce. Of course, you’ve become so blinded by your admiration for that damnable lieutenant that you can’t see how appalling the situation is.” “I’m nothing of the kind,” Karik said indignantly. “But you said they were clumsy and incompetent, and they’re not, not even a little bit. Romi’s done a perfectly good job as leader of the expedition and it’s not fair of you to put personal preferences ahead of that.” “I see. You might remember who you are talking to. I don’t appreciate my juniors ticking me off in this manner.” “I thought we were equal in rank on this expedition.” “That is not what your esteemed uncle told me. Perhaps you’ve forgotten who’s really in charge— not that oaf, but the Rulers of Darshek.” “My uncle values loyalty,” Karik said, stung by Soza’s dismissive tone. “And you’re not being loyal to people who’ve worked with us and helped us for months. I don’t care who’s in charge, I’m not standing for that.” “Your loyalty to that man will bring you to grief, I promise you. In the future, however, I insist you do not show such rudeness to people with whom I have a professional relationship—or does your loyalty only extend to people in uniform?” Karik gritted his teeth, and bit back at least half a dozen snide observations of how his loyalty to Soza had made the trip so much harder for him. “I won’t be rude again,” he said finally. “But I would prefer you didn’t insult the team in my hearing.” “You should learn to respect your elders. You don’t treat me with the deference my experience should warrant and yet you insist on defending a man who’s been nothing but offensive to me.” “This isn’t about—” He clenched his jaw. “Let’s not quarrel. Our visit is too short to waste in his manner.”
“Indeed it is,” Soza said loftily, sweeping on down the street to their inn. Despite his irritation, now worse for that little spat, Karik couldn’t help but be fascinated by the sights and sounds around him, marvelling at the sheer numbers of people in their long flowing robes— the temperate season clothing for both men and women. He attracted a lot of attention himself—many people stared and more than one came to a dead stop to point at him. He didn’t mind too much, but it was a little distracting. Perhaps he should cover his hair and face with a scarf when they went out again. After the rigours of the trail, it was a true luxury that the only effort involved in obtaining a meal was in deciding where to eat. Soza responded coolly to Karik’s polite questions about what he would like to try, and so, exasperated, he settled on an inn which seemed clean enough. Soza looked unimpressed. “So noisy,” he said with a sniff. “The food smells good. I wonder if they have beer?” It turned out they did not, but they did serve spiced wine, and though Karik was a fan neither of strong alcohol nor of wine, he asked for a mug, feeling it might help him feel less annoyed with life. Soza asked for razika, rather to Karik’s surprise. “I thought you didn’t like razika.” “I don’t appreciate being forced to inhale it, but I think it would make a pleasant drink. You’ll have to order, I have no idea what they are offering.” Keeping it simple, Karik ordered a mildly spiced stew and bread, which came with their drinks. It proved a good choice, and between the food and the wine, bad tempers eased. They even managed a perfectly friendly conversation about the academy and what Soza hoped to do while he was there. “I confess—I wish we had a month here or more. The scholars are so gratifyingly ready to learn.” “It’s a nice little academy and an interesting city, but I think I prefer being out in the wilds,” Karik admitted. “I really can’t wait until we get to the Mount Arzha region—who knows what we might discover? It’s almost completely unexplored or unrecorded. There could be people there who’ve never seen southerners before.” “Complete savages, I’m sure.” Soza shuddered. “I don’t know what I’m dreading more—those soldiers or that wretched tent.” “Maybe you should stay here and wait for us,” Karik said, then flushed. He hadn’t meant to be that blunt. “Are you implying I’m not serving a purpose, Karik?” “No, no,” Karik said hastily. “It’s just that the academy here obviously value your work, and it must be rare for them to have someone like you to study with.” “This is true. But I couldn’t possibly abandon you to the care of a man like that lieutenant—your uncle would never forgive me.” Karik very much doubted Arman or Kei expected Soza to be responsible for his welfare but refrained from saying that. He rather wished Soza hadn’t mentioned Romi because it soured his mood again—he spent a good ten minutes complaining about the way Romi had behaved on the first leg of
their journey and how he would be sending a lengthy report when they returned to Darshek. “I would send it with our other notes, but I’m afraid I simply don’t trust that man’s friends,” Soza said finally. “Are you really suggesting Romi would go through your personal letters, Soza? I think that’s very unlikely.” “I consider him capable of anything. Once again, I see you are defending him.” “I’m not defending him. I just don’t think he would go through your letters.” Soza scowled. Karik drank some more wine, hoping to drown his irritation. “I wish you would remember who your real friends are, young man. That lieutenant is worthless, and will do nothing for your career.” The implication that Soza would was loud and clear, and that annoyed Karik even more because he’d always made his own way in life. “I don’t propose to become his friend. He’ll serve his purpose and then we’ll part without the slightest regret.” “I sincerely hope so, for your sake,” Soza said, giving him a rather odd look. Karik thought it was better to just avoid talking about the soldiers and hope that Soza would become too absorbed in his work to mention them again. They both slept well—the inn’s beds were of a better quality than the room itself, so that was something. Soza was in a good mood the next day, and eager to get back to the academy. Karik hoped he might be able to get on with his own work, but once again, Soza insisted that Karik help him, and so he was unable to make any notes for his own use. It wasn’t only Karik seconded to Soza’s assistance. Ritizik was in attendance all day, and Soza used him shamelessly to interpret and to fetch books, though Karik rather thought Ritizik hadn’t planned to spend anything like that amount of time with them. By late afternoon, Karik’s temper was fraying and Ritizik was out of patience too. He stood and stretched his back with an elaborate groan. “Oh, gods, I’m so stiff. Soza, would you mind if I went down to the market to see the medicines on sale?” Soza frowned. “Are you sure you want to waste time on that today? My time is short, and there’s a lot to do.” Yes, I know. “The market’s potentially important.” “Oh, do as you wish. I wash my hands of you,” he said impatiently, turning back to his notes. “I’ll come with you, Karik, to show you around,” Ritizik said, almost managing to hide his eagerness. Karik hid a grin—Ritizik was clever and very studious, but he was only two years older than Karik, and not averse to a little fun. That offer didn’t please Soza. “I need your help, Ritizik—I can’t spare you.” “Ah—I am sorry, Master Soza, but...I promised Master Jerzwi that I would go with Karik when he wished to go to the market.” He gave Soza a winning smile. “I will be at your disposal in the morning.” Karik added his own pleading look. “It’s just this afternoon, Soza—please?”
Soza waved Ritizik off with a sour expression, and Ritizik didn’t wait for him to change his mind before making his escape with Karik. Karik breathed in the fresh air gratefully, as Ritizik grinned at him. “So it is not just me who finds Master Soza a little....” “No, it’s not,” Karik said ruefully. “Come on, I really do want to look at the market.” The market was enormous, and a hundred times more confusing and busy than the ones in Darshek or Urshek. Karik stared at the riot of activity, marvelled at the wonderful things on sale, and inhaled the delicious scent of cooking food, wishing he could find his supper with Ritizik instead of enduring more of Soza’s complaints. He regretted even more that he’d agreed to stay at the inn—he’d forgotten how demanding Soza could be when he was working. He sighed. “You do not seem happy, my friend.” Karik glanced at Ritizik. “I’m all right—I’m just getting older, I think.” “We all are,” Ritizik said, smiling. “Now, tell me of Master Kei. I can’t tell you how much I miss studying with him. Is he well? And how are your parents?” Karik passed on all the news, and found out what Ritizik had been doing since he left Darshek two years before. His friend had done a healer’s course in Darshian, but had stayed to research medicinal saps and resins. He had learned Darshianese almost as fast as Karik had acquired Ritizik’s own language, and Kei had been eager for him to stay in Darshian to act as a translator. Ritizik had been homesick though, and finally returned to his homeland. “Do you like Visiqe?” Karik wanted to know, since his friend was from further south. “I don’t want to live here forever, but the academy is a nice place to work. Our scholars are striving to improve the institution—they were hoping your friend would help in that, but now I’ve seen him....” “He’s very knowledgeable,” Karik said, although he was conscious that this didn’t cover all of Soza’s faults by a long way. “Yes, but.... Ah, but I am being very rude to criticise him to you. Let’s find the medicine stalls.” The herbs and medicines sector took up a full third of the market, and even though some stalls were closing for the day, there was still a huge amount of activity going on. Ritizik helped Karik identify the herbs on offer and explain their use. “Now, see this? This is jirotina—from this, gerot is made.” “Is it legal to be on sale?” “Oh yes—in this form, it’s much used against diarrhoea, though not in the very young. It’s only if you extract the oil and refine it, add other substances, that you have gerot. It would be wrong to ban everything that could potentially lead to harm, don’t you think?” “Yes, I suppose. Now, what’s this?” By the time they had finished, Karik had identified three drugs he wanted to purchase to send to Kei for further analysis, and five plants that he wanted to take back to the Andonese academy for further study. “Gods, if I can find all this in an hour or two, what if I spent a week here?”
“Then you would find more,” Ritizik said solemnly, though he was smiling. “Come, we should return.” Soza was interested in Karik’s finds, but still cross at being deserted, and grumbled about it for the rest of the evening. Karik needed the wine they had with their meal, just to stop him becoming so annoyed he said something that he would regret forever. He wished Kei was here—but even Kei had found Soza hard to tolerate. Why had Soza not annoyed him in Urshek, but got on his last nerve here? Was he so very different now? Tactfully reminding Soza that he had his own work to attend to before they left Visiqe annoyed his mentor further. Karik decided all he could do was ignore the man and get on, because he had to finish his notes for Kei. When, a day later, Soza grandly announced that he now wished to be taken to the market, and wanted Karik to go with him, Karik had to bite the inside of his cheek to prevent him snapping out a remark about him not being Soza’s servant. If only the man would wait until it was convenient for both of them before suddenly announcing these plans. The market was busier than ever, since they’d arrived in the morning, when all the stalls were in operation. Karik quickly stopped being annoyed as, once again, he spotted plants that he wanted to look at more closely. In this, he and Soza were in harmony, and Ritizik’s assistance was invaluable in choosing the best specimens. It was decided that they would make a broad selection, and Ritizik would arrange for them to be sent back to Kei with explanatory notes, as there would not be time to package them up before their main collection was sent along the river. Karik was deeply immersed in pondering whether he really wanted to send a pound of heriz seeds back to Kei, when he heard a familiar voice. “Oh, hello, Karik. I thought you’d be at the academy.” He looked up. His first thought was how handsome the pair of them looked, all clean and groomed and cheerful, and how odd it was that he hadn’t seen them for days after months living in each other’s pockets. And how odd it was that he’d missed it, and how strangely pleased he was to see them. “Hello, captain, Wepizi. Why are you here?” Wepizi smiled. “My friend wants souvenirs for his family, and I promised Jou I’d find her some of our finest sweetmeats. Ah, good morning, Soza. I trust you are well.” “Perfectly, Lep Wepizi,” Soza said stiffly, scowling at Romi and turning his back on them. Ritizik looked a little confused by the rudeness. Karik ignored Soza’s bad manners and made the introductions. “Captain, Lep, this is my friend Ritizik of the academy—he studied with my uncle at Darshek. Ritizik, Lep Wepizi is from Tsikiugui barracks, and Captain Romi is from south Darshian. He’s been leading our expedition.” This remark elicited a scornful sniff from Soza who still had his back turned. “I’m sorry we can’t spend any time with you this morning, Wepizi—I need to get back to the academy.” “I understand, my friend—you have much work to do, I’m sure.” “Is there something any of us can help you with, Karik?”
Karik was surprised by Romi’s offer. “No, thank you, captain. I just need to get my notes done for Kei so they can go back with the rest of the material.” “Ah, well, speaking of that, Jou and Netu are ready to help you deal with things if you need it.” “Oh—that’s very helpful, but I think it’s all in order. Thank them for me.” Romi nodded. “One more thing, though, now I’ve run into you. We’ve been told who our guide is —a fellow from a northern tribe, very good connections with the council here and apparently fluent in Darshianese. I was hoping to introduce you to him tomorrow,” he added politely. Soza turned and gave them all a baleful glare. “Karik is here to assist me, lieutenant. He doesn’t need to concern himself with such matters, and if anyone needs to be introduced, it’s me.” “The invitation was naturally for both of you, Soza,” Romi said, still smiling politely, though the smile didn’t reach his eyes. “Soza, I’d like a chance to meet this man,” Karik interrupted, not wanting a pissing match to start. “I need to go to the barracks anyway with my notes.” If you ever let me finish them. “You don’t need to take the time, if you don’t have it.” “If I can’t spare the time, then neither can you,” Soza snapped. “And I believe I have spent long enough at this. I’ll make my own way to the academy, Ritizik. Don’t be long, Karik.” Karik smiled through gritted teeth and made a polite noise at the peremptory command. As Soza stalked off, Wepizi gave Karik an embarrassed look. “Ah, we have caused you a problem. I’m sorry, my friend.” “Oh, never mind,” Karik said with a sigh. “But I do need to get on—we’ve got so much material from the market alone to send back to Kei. If I don’t hurry up, I won’t finish what I need to before we go.” “Don’t let us hold you up, then,” Romi said. “Kizinke—that’s the guide—will be coming to meet the two of us tomorrow, at noon. If you’re there, fine, but I can’t ask him to wait.” “I understand. Good day to you both.” Romi and Wepizi both bowed politely to Ritizik and wandered off towards the stalls selling clothes and ornaments. Ritizik stared after them. “So these are the horribly rude soldiers? I have to say, your standards of politeness must be very different if that was rudeness.” “Oh. Ritizik, I’ve been meaning to say something about that....you see, Soza and Romi...well, they don’t get on, so that colours Soza’s opinion. But I honestly believe the soldiers have done an excellent job, and if you and the academy want to involve the military, Lep Wepizi for instance would be the finest person you could ask for help.” “Ah.” Ritizik stroked his beard. “This cheers me to hear, Karik. Master Jerzwi was very disappointed by Soza’s assessment—he had been in the middle of drafting a proposal to ask the king and council for the help of the army to investigate the dry regions, but stopped when Soza said what he did. He will be delighted to have a contrary opinion. So you and this captain—or is it ‘lieutenant’? You get on all right—it’s just Soza?”
“It’s ‘captain’, and...well, it’s not all Soza’s fault they don’t get on. Captain Romi can be very irritating when he wants to be, but that doesn’t mean he’s done a poor job. Far from it. He’s contributed greatly to our success—they all have.” There, Karik thought. A wrong righted, he hoped. “I will pass your words on, but if I may be blunt...?” “Of course.” “Then I will be. I worry about you travelling with that man,” Ritizik said, his young face solemn. “He seems...too full of pride, too possessive. He lacks—forgive me, Karik for being so harsh—he lacks generosity of spirit.” “He can be generous,” Karik protested. “He was very kind to me in Urshek.” “Then I am sorry twice over for offending you, my friend,” Ritizik said with a bow. “You haven’t—I just...he was very kind,” Karik finished, rather lamely. “Just...not so much lately, I suppose.” “I understand. You miss your friend,” Ritizik said shrewdly. “But you are not blind to his faults, either.” “No, but I think it’s me who’s changed, not him. I can’t blame him when he’s no different from how he was.” “We grow, we change, and sometimes we outgrow our friends. But if you and Soza are not close, and you and this captain do not get on—is it very unpleasant on this expedition? I had envied you the chance, but perhaps I should not have.” Karik signalled that they really ought to start walking back to the academy, and Ritizik fell into step beside him. “It can be unpleasant,” he admitted. “But I’ve made friends and the captain...he’s not so bad. Not now. He and Soza act like a pair of bull beasts fighting over a she-animal, though.” “Oh, ho, and are you the female in season then?” Karik gave his friend’s arm a reproving punch. “That’s so far from being funny, it’s actively nauseating,” he said firmly. “Don’t joke about such things.” “I won’t,” Ritizik said, bowing a little. “But the captain, he’s very handsome, don’t you think?” “No,” Karik lied. “He’s got a big nose.” “Big nose, big—” “Ritizik.” Ritizik grinned, and bowed again. “Yes, my friend. I understand. You do not like your ugly captain.” “You spent far too long with Kei.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Staying Power: 18 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ That odd little meeting with Karik occupied rather more of Romi’s thoughts than he would have liked, but try as he might, he couldn’t stop it bothering him. It was Karik’s smile, he thought—meant for Wepizi alone, most likely, but it had been turned on them both, and the open welcome had hit Romi hard. It had been so much like the way Daiso used to smile when he saw him, and Romi, who had thought he’d been doing so well in getting over his faithless lover, was hit by an overwhelming pang of loneliness and longing. He wanted Daiso’s smile again—he missed his lover so much, and the friendliness and politeness Karik had shown both of them without reserve, had only sharpened that pain. It made it worse to know that the person who had a right to Karik’s smiles cared nothing for them, and had spoken to his lover in a manner which Romi would have found offensive even if addressed to a complete stranger, let alone someone he was supposed to love. Did Soza not realise how lucky he was? Regardless of Romi’s opinion of Karik—and if he was honest, the man wasn’t bad at all once you got past the pride—Soza had caught himself a real prize, and anyone who would put up with his nonsense deserved a medal. Thinking about Soza and Karik, and Daiso, and the yawning emptiness of his love life, made him extremely short-tempered for a while, but a spar with Jou, and a glass or two of razika with the evening meal Wepizi treated him to at a local inn, improved his mood. After all, he wasn’t doing too badly considering how short a time it had been since Daiso had thrown him over, and being out in the field had a way of making all troubles loom large at times. Wepizi, wise, kind man that he was, didn’t poke Romi until he had had a chance to regain his equilibrium. At the end of the meal, he lifted the small tumbler of razika he was drinking. “Too much of this, and a man becomes morose. But the right amount, and the world seems more endurable. Is that not mysterious, my friend?” “I suppose it is. Maybe we should set young Karik to explaining it for us.” “I’m sure he will, if I ask. He has the soul of a teacher—a true gift.” “This is true,” Romi admitted, being fair. “Jou says she’s learned more from him in three months than she did in six on her training. My only complaint is that he seems to have inspired our medics to run off and become full healers. At this rate, the army will be short of necessary personnel.” “Each one must do what is true to their own heart and inclinations, or they cannot be happy. The army needs healers too, and why restrict those who want to better themselves?” “I wouldn’t want to—I’ve always been keen on helping people do just that. I’m not cross at Karik —it was merely an observation.”
Wepizi nodded. “But...he has disturbed you anyway? Something he said, perhaps?” “Not, not really,” Romi said with a sigh. “I miss Dai.” “Of course you do, though he was not worthy of you, Romi. A lover who is unfaithful is worse than a thief, for they steal your happiness, not just your coin. But you must not let Daiso destroy the love in your heart, or surely, you will not find someone to take his place. A heart can only respond where there is a welcome for it.” “Maybe.” Romi found the subject too raw just then to want to talk about it. “Anyway, tell me about this guide we’re meeting.” As they drank a last glass of razika, Wepizi explained the situation regarding the northern tribes, from where Kizinke hailed. The most northern tribes had never been subjugated fully, but instead had engaged in decades of guerrilla warfare with the oppressing warlords, and had been instrumental in their downfall. Even now, Wepizi said, the court and council left them to get on with things. The mountain people acknowledged the crown since the lineage was of their breeding, and each two years sent representatives to pledge allegiance to it and to participate in elections and assemblies, but they paid no tax unless they traded with the south, and sent no men to the army. Many of the younger people worked for a few years in the higher government positions, as Kizinke’s brother did, but the rest of the tribe avoided the cities and towns. They considered themselves the true aristocracy of Andon, Wepizi said, and scorned everyone else. With that information in mind, Romi was very curious to meet the man the council had appointed to assist them in the second part of their journey. He proved to be a man of Wepizi’s age, of medium height but quite powerfully built, though he had an effete way of speaking he must have acquired for use at court. He seemed pleasant enough at first, but had a distinctly superior air which grated somewhat if one talked to him for too long. It rather reminded Romi of their other supercilious sod, and he wondered if he would find Kizinke as annoying as Soza over time. However, there was no doubt he would make an excellent guide—his knowledge of the routes and conditions of the northern ranges was quite comprehensive. He had another indispensable qualification as a guide through the north—he spoke the dialect of the mountain tribes. Though the tribal people spoke Andonese as well, they preferred their own language, so Kizinke’s skills would come in useful. Romi introduced Kizinke to the team, but was forced to apologise for the absence of both their naturalists. Kizinke made polite noises but was clearly unimpressed by the failure of either Karik or Soza to bother attending the meeting. That was annoying enough to make Romi ready to bite Karik’s head off as he saw him rushing across the yard a good two hours after noon, when Kizinke had long since departed. But Karik forestalled him. “Gods, I’m so sorry,” Karik said breathlessly. “I tried to get here on time but...anyway, I’m too late, I know. My own fault.” The unreserved apology took away the impulse to tick him off. “Never mind—he’s got business to attend to but will be back in three days. We’re not leaving at least for another five.”
“Oh good—I’ve got so much to do....” He recalled to whom he was talking and his manner became a little more formal. “I brought the notes and things to put with the shipment.” “Come along and make sure it’s all in order then. We can’t send it for a few days—there’s flooding in the lower reaches and all boats are staying moored until it eases.” As Karik followed him over to the stores, Jou caught sight of him and rushed over. “Hello, stranger,” she said with a grin. “Oh, hello, Jou. Sorry I’ve not been back, I’ve had so much to do.” “I know—did you see the new guide?” “No, I missed that. Soza—” He stopped speaking and Romi got the impression it was because it would sound like a criticism of his lover if he continued. Soza had managed to stymie Karik’s visit after all, the bastard. “Anyway, I’ve got these notes to put with our material.” “You really should check everything, Karik,” Romi said. “It’s going to be impossible to retrieve anything that’s missing by the time you get back.” Karik agreed, and they spent an hour looking over the carefully packed collection. “No, that’s all perfect, just as I thought,” he finally declared. “I’ll just put this with the rest of the documents.” “Is that all you’re sending back?” Jou asked. “What about gifts for your family?” Karik gave her a guilty look. “Gods, I’ve not had a moment free—and there are at least a dozen people I should get things for. But I have to get back to the academy—” Romi put his hand on Karik’s shoulder. “Make time,” he said firmly. Karik seemed too surprised at his action to object. “They understand—” “Make time,” Romi repeated. “If anything happened to you, the last thing they would know would be that you couldn’t spend an hour finding a keepsake for them. Soldiers have to write home once a month, Karik—because it’s too easy to forget about those who have to stay behind and worry.” “I don’t forget!” “Then prove it,” Jou said. “Romi’s right. It’s important. I know you’ve got your work, but your Ma will be hurt if you don’t send her a little something back.” “Ma would just want a medical text, but she doesn’t read Andonese.” “What about your Pa?” “He wants a doig,” Karik said, grinning suddenly. “Er, they probably sell those in the market....” “Maybe they do, but I can’t get one here. I can never think what to get,” he said, rubbing his forehead. He looked harried—his lover running him ragged and giving him precious little thanks for the effort, no doubt. He made a decision. “Corporal, this calls for military assistance,” he snapped.
She saluted smartly. “Right you are, captain. Come on, Karik, we’ll go to the market and find those gifts if it kills me.” “But—” “No arguments,” she said. “I’m under orders. You don’t want me on a discipline, do you?” “No. All right, but I’m not sure this comes under the heading of running the expedition, captain,” he said, giving Romi a wry look that didn’t hold the irritation he expected. “Pastoral care is my concern. Now go and complete your mission. Jou, if you’re back in under an hour, you really will be on a discipline—go enjoy yourselves, you pair.” “Absolutely, captain,” she said, giving him another salute and a grin, and then she hauled her friend off. A wrong righted, Romi thought with satisfaction, and felt a little more cheerful for it.
~~~~~~~~ As he handed Jou the last of the small parcels to be taken back to the barracks, Karik was torn between pleasure at imagining the delight his little gifts would bring his friends and family, and guilt that he really shouldn’t have spent an entire afternoon in such a frivolous manner. He handed her the list they’d made. “Are you sure you don’t mind writing the notes?” “Of course not,” she said cheerfully. “As you said, you’re busy and I’ve got nothing much to do until we leave.” “Well, if you’re sure. Thanks, Jou—but I better run and find Soza. It’s very late.” She pulled a face at the mention of the man she disliked so much. “Why on earth he had to run you around like a servant, I have no idea. Anyway, come by the barracks soon—we miss you.” “I will. See you later, Jou.” Soza’s expression was furious as Karik rushed into the library. “Where have you been? I was expecting you back hours ago.” “I’m sorry—I just had some errands to run.” “Errands? Lazing around with your friends at the barracks, I warrant.” “I wasn’t. Anyway, I helped you with those maps though I was late on account of it.” “Yes, and perfectly grudgingly too.” Karik drew breath to protest this blatant misinterpretation of the facts, but then realised he was about to make a scene in the middle of the Visiqe academy. “I apologise,” he said with an effort. “Shall we go and have our supper?” But that wasn’t enough to mollify Soza, who proceeded to lecture Karik about how he would never make a reputation as a researcher if all he cared about was having fun. He didn’t shut up even when the
food was served, and Karik was forced to take refuge behind his mug of spiced wine, nodding and making noises where appropriate, and wondering if it was too late for him to tell captain Romi that he wanted to stay in the barracks after all. There seemed little point in defending himself to Soza—when someone was this angry and irrational, his experience told him it was a waste of time to argue with them. “You don’t appear to be listening to a word I’ve said, young man.” “I’m sorry...would you like another glass of razika?” “Yes—call the waitress, will you?” “Why don’t you let me get it?” Karik said, desperate to get away from the sound of Soza’s voice. Gods, how was he going to get through the next part of the journey without quarrelling fatally with the man? To his surprise, Soza seemed rather more pleasant when he returned with his drink, as if he had quite forgotten his irritation, urging him to drink his wine, and even suggesting he had another mug. Karik agreed, though he was wary of being set up for more criticism—but Soza really did seem to have put his anger aside, and was even pleasant, complimenting him on finding an important specimen during the visit to the market the previous day. Karik was beginning to feel a little odd, and rather hot—he must have had too much to drink, he realised. “We better go,” he said. His mouth felt a little numb—he hoped there hadn’t been something wrong with that last mug of wine. “Are you all right, Karik? You look a little pale.” “A bit dizzy,” he admitted. “Here, take my arm.” Soza left coins on the table for the waitress, and led Karik out of the dining hall and around the corner to the inn. Once in the room, Karik really began to feel peculiar. “Maybe you better lie down.” “Good idea....” His tongue felt thick and unwieldy. “Oh. I.... Feel...shtrange....” “Why don’t you lie down? You’ve had a lot to drink.” This was true, Karik thought muzzily, but even when he lay down, the room still seemed to spin. The unpleasant feeling of floating only increased as he closed his eyes. “I don’t feel so good.” “Let me get a cloth.” Karik couldn’t work out why a cloth would help, but then he was finding coherent thought rather difficult—his thoughts skittered about, hard to hang on to. He clutched at the bedclothes in a desperate attempt to get rid of the dizzy, disembodied sensation, but it only got worse. Had to be the wine.... Something cold and wet was placed on his forehead. “You seem rather hot—why don’t I loosen your clothes?”
Karik nodded—thought he nodded anyway, though he couldn’t be sure he actually had—and lay unresisting as Soza undid his shirt laces, then his trousers. He felt a hand over his genitals, and then fingers tugging at his loincloth. “Don’ think they’re hot.” “Nonsense, you’ll feel much better with this loosened.” Karik wanted very much for Soza not to do this, but he couldn’t make the words come out, and his arms were too heavy to move. “Now, isn’t that better?” “Nuh....” “Ah, I see the gerot is working nicely.” Gerot? He tried to struggle upright, but his limbs refused to obey him. He stared at Soza. “I had to guess at the dose, of course, and I might have overdone it.” Soza had drugged him? “The Andonese don’t keep nearly as many records as I would like. Still, I have to say I’m gratified by the results. I hadn’t expected it to be so fast acting. I will have to take that into consideration next time.” He felt himself being rolled over onto his front. “Huh...?” “Shhhh. You know, you’re a very handsome man. Lovely, even. Everyone thinks so.” Soza’s words were spoken by his ear, and he tried to move away from them. “Don’....” “It’s all right. I just want to touch you. I’ve wanted to touch you since the first time I saw you.” Karik felt his buttocks being parted by Soza’s moist hands, and even in his confused state, knew this was something he did not want Soza to do. “No.” “So lovely. But you’re very cruel, Karik. So arrogant, the way you think you’re so much better than me. Siding with that fool of a lieutenant, supporting him—arguing with me too. I don’t like it at all. That man has been making a mockery of me ever since Darshek, and you’ve been helping him. I can’t let that go on, now, can I?” Soza was right over him now, and Karik was pressed into the bed, a finger rubbing up and down between his buttocks in a most unpleasant way. Soza had a hand on Karik’s neck, forcing his face into the pillow until he could hardly breathe. He certainly couldn’t make his words understood, even though in his mind he was yelling at Soza to stop, not to do this, begging him.... “You’re quite exquisite, but you have to learn that you’re not as important as you think you are, you know. You’re only a student. You need to learn some respect. You belong to me, and you’ll do what pleases me, not anyone else.” No. Don’t. Soza’s fingers dug cruelly into his hips now, and probed intimately. Karik’s weak struggles had not the slightest effect on him. “Shame I didn’t buy any oil, but needs must.” It hurts...please don’t. “Uh...now that’s harder....to do...than I thought it would be.” Don’t...gods, it hurts so much....
“Now we just....maybe a little spit...yes.” Soza grunted as Karik screamed into the pillow with the agony of his thrust, tears of pain and shock running unseen down his face. It was like he was being split open—even being stabbed hadn’t hurt like this. It felt like Soza was shoving his fist inside him. He flailed weakly, but even Soza’s small strength was easily enough to overpower him. All he could do was cry with the lancing pain as Soza continued to pound into him, ripping him apart with every thrust. It seemed to go on forever. Karik would gladly have died to end the agony, to end this incredible betrayal. When Soza finally stopped, Karik still wept, unable to control his reaction to the pain and the horror of it all, and drowning in a nightmare that continued even once the assault ended. Soza was moving around the room, doing what, Karik had no idea. In a few moments, he came back to the bed, and Karik was terrified he was going to fuck him again. But all he did was pick up the discarded cloth, wipe Karik’s face and then bend to kiss him in a parody of affection. “That was wonderful, it really was. And I can do it any time I want now—I’ve got a good supply of gerot. I needed to teach you your place, Karik. You won’t remember me telling you this, but I have a feeling you’ll learn your lesson anyway.” Karik couldn’t believe Soza was saying all this—was this the same man who had taught him so generously all those months before? Even the bad-tempered Soza of the trail and of recent days wouldn’t do this—would he? He heard Soza get into bed, and then the lamp was turned down. Trembling, he hardly dared breathe as he waited for his rapist to settle down. Using the pain, his terror, he made himself fight the drug to stay awake so he could escape. He waited until he was sure Soza was asleep before moving. It was still incredibly difficult to make his body work—even reaching down to pull up his trousers seemed to take hours. He was terrified when his efforts to get up just led to him falling to his knees— terrified that Soza would wake up and do those things to him again. He didn’t even dare risk trying to get his boots on. He just wanted to get out of here, away from the monster who had taken the place of his friend, away from all that he wanted to do to Karik. He would do it again, he said he would. Karik couldn’t let him do that. He had to hold onto the wall every inch of the way, and the back stairs were impossible—he half fell rather than walked down them, unable to feel his legs properly, praying no one would come up and see him in this state. If he could just get into the fresh air and clear his head, then he could.... But then he couldn’t remember what he could do. Out, away, was the only thought he could hang onto. Out, away, safe. The fresh air helped for a minute or two and he managed to weave an unsteady path some way from the inn. But then it all caught up with him and he slumped against a corner post, sagging to the ground. Help me. Someone. Anyone. But no one heard him.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Staying Power: 19 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ “Now that was a very fine bit of cooking,” Romi said, chewing on a tooth stick thoughtfully as they walked along. Wepizi’s friends had hosted a wonderfully enjoyable evening, and he was feeling mellow with good food and razika. “Nearly as fine as one of Lema’s meals,” Wepizi agreed. Romi hadn’t wanted to say that, but acknowledged the truth of his friend’s words. “No one cooks as well as she did, but that came close. It puts a fire in your belly for sure.” “And in your balls, so they say,” Wepizi said with a grin. “Oh everything’s an aphrodisiac in this damn city, if you listen to the rumours,” Romi scoffed. “It’s a wonder every woman you see isn’t pregnant and every man crippled and dried...gods, look, Wepizi!” “What...?” Romi was already running to the corner of the street, where a slight figure with a distinctive braid slumped sideways against a building, visible only because his fair hair caught the small amount of light from the lanterns of passers-by. Romi knelt, and confirmed it was indeed their naturalist lying unconscious. “What in hells?” He set two fire sprites over their heads to give them some light. “Karik, wake up.” Wepizi knelt also, and their lamp let Romi see a little better. “Is he hurt? Sick?” Romi shook the slight form and slapped his face, but got no reaction. “He’s very hot. Can’t see any injury—maybe he’s drunk.” He leaned down and sniffed. “I can smell wine...oh, you stupid man. How could you do this?” “The inn is close by.” “I know, but we can’t take him back like this. Can we get him to the barracks? The infirmary so he can sleep it off?” “I’m sure we can,” Wepizi said. Romi quickly checked that Karik wasn’t obviously injured and that it was safe to move him. “Let’s get him up.” “Damn—his trousers are undone. What in hells has he been up to?” Romi gave Wepizi an exasperated look. Wepizi shrugged. “I don’t know, my friend, but we need to get him away from here. The streets of Visiqe are not safe at night.”
With difficulty, they hauled Karik up. The man was quite unconscious, so was no help at all. “Here, let me....” Romi managed, with Wepizi’s help, to get Karik over his shoulder. “If he pukes on me, I’ll kill him.” “Wait until he’s awake, at least.” It wasn’t that far to the barracks, which, unlike those of Tsikiugui, were located in the heart of the city. Wepizi made a hasty explanation at the guard post and then led Romi to the infirmary, which, naturally, was quiet, its healer not expecting to have a drunken Darshianese thrust at him. He told Romi to lay Karik on a bed, and as more lamps were lit, Romi could finally get a good look at the man. He was filthy—he must have fallen over a few times in the mud—but there was no sign that he’d been attacked or knocked out. “Help me undress him,” the healer said. The removal of the shirt revealed no injuries either, but when he drew down the man’s trousers, Wepizi gave a little gasp. “What...he’s been assaulted,” Romi said, dumbfounded at all the blood. “He’s been raped, you mean,” Wepizi said, drawing nearer. “What was he doing out on his own, without Soza?” “I have no idea, but right now, I want to make sure Karik’s all right. Is he?” he asked the healer. “I don’t know. Please excuse me, sir, I need to examine him. If you would wait outside?” Wepizi took him out to the front office of the infirmary so the healer could work in peace. “I must report this, Romi. A crime of this nature against a visitor cannot be ignored.” “Yes, agreed, but why don’t we wait until Karik wakes up? We’re assuming this was nonconsensual.” Wepizi gave him a narrow look. “Have you ever known such injuries to come by consent?” “No, but I can’t pretend to know everything people do in bed. I need to speak to Soza. Will you wait with Karik, Wepizi? I won’t be long, but I don’t want him to wake up alone.” “Of course. Do you want one of your men—or ours—with you?” “I can handle Soza. If I find he’s involved in this—” “Then he will face our law, I promise you,” Wepizi said. “I’ll wait here for you, my friend.” Romi ran back through the darkened streets into the town. Damn it, he should never have agreed to the civilians staying at that cursed inn. Should have gone with his instincts and be damned to the arguments. The sleepy clerk who answered the bell told him in which room Soza and Karik were staying, and said he hadn’t seen either of them that evening, although they might have used the back stairs. Romi swore again and ran up to the second floor, banging hard on the door of the room. It took more time than he would have liked for his knock to be answered but finally an irritated-looking Soza opened the door. “Lieutenant, what’s the meaning of this?” “Have you seen Karik this evening?”
“Karik?” He frowned. “Of course I have—we ate supper together and had some wine. He went out earlier for some fresh air.” “And you didn’t go with him?” “No, I was feeling tired and went to bed. Why? Where is he? What’s happened?” “We found him in the street...I think the wine got too much for him. We’ve taken him to the infirmary to sleep it off.” “Oh—is he all right? Should I come?” “No, it’s fine,” Romi lied. “If he’s fit in the morning, I’ll send him back. The healer wasn’t sure it was just the drink—it might have been some bad food too. You’re not feeling unwell, are you?” “No, just tired. If you’re sure he’s all right....” “Yes, I’m sure. Sorry to disturb you.” Soza just grunted and shut the door. Well, Romi thought, if my lover had been found unconscious in the street, I hope I’d be a little more concerned than that. But Soza’s lack of proper feeling wasn’t his concern. The fact that Karik had gone out for a little fresh air and been attacked, was. Not just attacked—raped. Even if wandering around a strange, decadent city while drunk wasn’t the cleverest thing a man could do, no one should suffer that. Karik wasn’t wise to the ways of places like Visiqe, Romi was quite sure. In Darshek, a drunk could sleep all night in almost any street in the city and only have a hangover to prove the lack of wisdom of such an action. He hastened back to the barracks and to the infirmary. Wepizi was waiting in the front office again. “Any news?” “Yes,” Wepizi said, his expression grim. “What did Soza say?” “Just that Karik went out earlier to clear his head after they’d both been drinking. He was asleep when I got there, and knew nothing about it.” “Hmmm. You better come and speak to the healer.” The healer was just covering Karik up. He’d been wiped clean, and his filthy clothes removed. He was still deeply unconscious and dreadfully pale, at least to Romi’s eyes. The healer motioned them to the other end of the long room. “Please tell him what you told me,” Wepizi said. “Yes, Lep. I regret that your friend has been drugged, captain.” “Drugged? How? With what?” “I don’t know the answers to those questions, I’m sorry. Once he wakes up, I might know with what, but as to how—there are many ways a drug can get into a person’s body. Drink, food, smoke—a long list.” “Drugged so he could be...assaulted?” “I fear so, captain. His injuries are painful but not life threatening. Tearing, bruising—he will be in discomfort for several days. More serious is the mental hurt. As I was handling him, he woke briefly and was absolutely terrified. Lep Wepizi had to help restrain him.”
“Gods. Wepizi, did he say who?” Wepizi shook his head. “No, but Groi Vyoti describes it correctly. Karik was frightened for his life.” “But why would he accept a drug from a stranger who could do something like this...? Something doesn’t add up,” Romi said angrily. “I want to know who did this.” “I will start enquiries immediately,” Wepizi said. “But I suspect we will not get very far until Karik tells us more and Vyoti says he may not be able to help even then.” Romi looked at the healer for explanation. “What I mean, captain, is that some drugs make it impossible to remember clearly—or at all—the events leading up to their consumption. It is for this reason that the king and council made them illegal, but unfortunately, they are still available.” “And the after-effects? He is going to wake up, right?” “I sincerely hope so, captain, but as he’s unconscious, I can give him nothing to hasten that happening. Nor would I until I have a better idea what he’s been given or taken.” “How long? Will he wake in the morning?” The healer shrugged. “I can’t tell you, I’m sorry. I’ll watch him tonight, and pray for his recovery.” Romi wasn’t content to allow the Andonese deity take charge. “Wepizi, please make enquiries. I’m going to wait with him.” The healer bowed. “That won’t be necessary, captain—” “Damn right it’s necessary, Vyoti. Karik’s part of my team. No one hurts a member of my team and gets away with it.” “As you wish.” The healer left them to go back to Karik’s bedside. “You realise this is probably hopeless,” Wepizi said quietly. “I know but we have to try.” Romi rubbed his forehead—it had been such a good evening until all this. “Thanks for your help.” “It’s nothing, my friend. I’m as angry as you at this being done to that boy.” “He’s no boy.” “He’s young enough to me. Tell him that I’m worried about him.” “I will. Wepizi—one more thing. Keep this quiet—if you have to say anything, say he was attacked, but no details. Let him have his privacy.” “Of course. I’ll insist on discretion from our people.” Wepizi bowed and left. Romi turned and found the healer wiping Karik’s face with a cloth. “Is he running a fever?” “Yes. Some drugs cause this. If you want, you can help keep him cool. Just wipe his face and arms. If he seems to be rousing, call me—and I suggest you don’t touch him then. Sometimes the
memories lie below the consciousness, and while he thinks he can’t remember the attack, part of his mind will do so and be afraid.” Gods. Romi took the cloth from the healer, and followed his instructions. What had induced Karik to try a drug from someone he couldn’t trust? Was it curiosity? Had he been held down and forced to swallow it? But no—his skin showed every mark and the only bruising was on the hips, as if he’d been held there but nowhere else. Rape was thankfully rare in Temshek, but when drunken men didn’t take no for an answer, they left marks just as Karik bore. But this whole story made no sense. Why hadn’t Soza gone out with him? Would it have killed the bastard to have stepped out with Karik to make sure he was all right, especially if he was under the influence? Soza indicated that Karik hadn’t planned to explore and wasn’t to be gone very long. How had a drugging and attack happened so quickly? And where in hells were Karik’s boots? Karik lay utterly still for hours, but just as the sun was starting to come up, he began to shift, obviously in pain. Romi took his hands off him and called the healer, making sure he was nowhere near the bed when Karik opened his eyes. But he needn’t have worried—Karik was too busy throwing up his guts to be frightened. Since it looked like he’d be nauseous for a while, the healer suggested Romi left them alone, and since no one liked to be watched while they were vomiting, Romi agreed. But he didn’t head to his bunk—he wanted to know what Wepizi had found out. His friend had obviously been out all night on the case, and not long returned—unfortunately with no news. “No one saw a thing,” Wepizi said, looking depressed at this unsatisfactory result. “Soza and Karik ate in the dining hall near the inn, and were seen to leave by several people. They were talking quite normally, and nothing seemed amiss.” “So Karik wasn’t drunk?” “Not to the point of falling down, no.” Romi frowned. “And his boots?” “His boots?” “He wasn’t wearing any boots when we found him—don’t tell me he left the room in bare feet.” “We weren’t looking for boots—I’ll send a search out now.” Wepizi rubbed his eyes. “How is he?” “Sick but awake, poor bastard. Haven’t had a chance to talk to him. I want to speak to Jou and Netu and then I’ll go back in. Wepizi, I think we need to speak to Soza again—and is there any way we can search their room without him knowing?” Wepizi lifted an eyebrow. “You suspect him? Why would he drug Karik to have sex with him when he’s his lover?” “I don’t know, but something about his story doesn’t fit. None of this makes sense. Look, just talk to him again, see if he can remember anything else. I’ll try and get more from Karik.” “Very well, my friend. Ah, what a miserable business, and we will have to delay our departure. Karik won’t be fit in four days.”
“No, probably not for a week or more. Well, it doesn’t matter too much and I don’t want him to feel even worse about things, so don’t mention it. We can easily justify a delay on the basis of needing more rest time for the team. You said you had things you could do, if we were here longer.” “Quite true, and that will make a good excuse. As you wish it then—I better see about these boots.” He tapped his mouth thoughtfully. “Search the room?” “If you can. But I don’t want him to know.” “I’ll see what I can do.” Romi was tired, but he wouldn’t sleep—it wasn’t the first time he’d worked all night on a case. He found his team just getting ready to find their breakfast, and drew Jou and Netu outside. He explained the situation as simply as he could, without mentioning the rape, saying only that Karik had been seriously assaulted. “I don’t want this to be gossiped about,” he said, and they nodded. “Jou, I think he’ll appreciate a little company while he’s sick, and since we assume he was attacked by a man, he might prefer you to any of us. Netu, I just wanted you to know so you could keep an eye on his health. I don’t know what the after-effects of this drug will be, or how long they will persist. Once we know what it is, I want you to find out all you can about caring for someone dosed with it.” “What about Soza?” Jou said. “Shouldn’t he be helping his friend?” Romi was the only one who knew Soza was Karik’s lover, not just his friend, but his answer was the same anyway. “I think Soza will just make Karik feel worse. I’ll tell him that Karik doesn’t want visitors, and unless Karik himself insists, that’s the line I want you two to take with him. Somehow I doubt he’ll press the issue.” “Cold bastard,” Jou spat. “Poor Karik—how could this happen?” “I don’t know but I take the blame, and I’ll make sure it doesn’t happen again. Just be a friend to him, will you?” “Of course—you don’t need to ask. Karik’s a good man.” “Yes, he is. Why don’t you go to the infirmary after breakfast?” “I’ll drop over right now and see how he is.” Romi nodded and she headed off towards that part of the barracks. Netu watched her leave. “All right—now, what aren’t you telling me, captain Romi?” “Sorry?” Netu turned to him. “Look—all this discretion, keeping Soza away...what exactly happened to Karik that you don’t want people to know?” Romi cursed his medic’s sharp brain. He didn’t want to lie to the man, and since he’d guessed so much of it, there was little point. “He was raped,” he said bluntly. “Drugged, raped and left in an alley.” Netu winced. “Gods...and we have no idea who?”
“None, but Wepizi has set enquiries going. Do you understand the need for discretion?” “Of course—but you should tell Jou. She cares for Karik a good deal and it might help.” “I’ll think about it, but really, I want to let Karik have the choice of who knows. This will need delicate handling, Netu. I know this wasn’t what we expected on this mission, but it’s happened and we have to deal with it.” “I’ll do everything I can,” Netu said firmly. “Poor bastard. If I find out who did it....” “You and me both,” Romi said with feeling. “And Wepizi too. Karik’s a guest in this country and I don’t think the Andonese will be happy about this, even ignoring the fact of who he’s connected to.” “No, they won’t be. If it had happened on our patch, you know how we’d feel. All right, I’ll let Jou handle the infirmary visits, and be on hand for advice. I’ll speak to the healer later—sounds like he has his hands full just now.” Romi agreed and watched his medic leave, trying to think what he had missed. There had to be something.... He shook his head. Breakfast and a couple of hours sleep, then back to see Karik and try and get him past this. He suddenly wished they were on their way home to Darshian—this was a bad omen, a very bad omen indeed.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Staying Power: 20 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Karik had never been so thoroughly sick in his life, and even in his misery, he couldn’t help but wonder at his body’s ability to keep bringing something up even though he had to have emptied his stomach ages ago. He hurt all over and couldn’t understand why—what had happened to him? He knew he was in the barracks infirmary—in the brief moments when he wasn’t retching, a young man called Vyoti had introduced himself and told him where he was. But no one had yet told him why he was there. He recalled Jou being there briefly earlier on, but he’d been far too sick to talk to her and he thought she had said she would come back later. He had been too miserable to care about it then, and was too weary and confused to ask about her now. Finally, after who knew how many hours, he wasn’t quite as nauseated, though his head pounded horribly and his body still hurt. There was sharp, almost intolerable pain in his hips and backside and he had no idea why. Vyoti returned to help him sit, and gave him some sweetened bland tea which Karik found he could finally keep down, though his throat was raw and his stomach and chest ached from all the heaving. Vyoti laid a hand on his forehead as Karik cautiously sipped the tea. “Ah, you’re cooler. Feeling better?” “I’m not dead, that’s about it. What happened to me?” Vyoti wouldn’t meet his eyes as he wrung out a cloth. “We think you were drugged—from the symptoms, I would almost be certain it was with gerot or gerot mixed with something else.” “Drugged...how? Why?” Vyoti gave him a sympathetic look, and wiped Karik’s forehead as he answered. “You’ve been assaulted, Karik. Captain Romi and Lep Wepizi found you unconscious in the street...with injuries.” “Ah-assaulted?” “Yes. The injuries are...of a sexual nature.” At first Karik couldn’t make any sense of his words, they were so unexpected. It was almost as if Vyoti had started to speak some other language. “Y-you mean...rape?” he whispered, his thoughts fracturing into a million pieces as he realised what Vyoti meant. “Yes. At least that’s what it appears to be.” “I d-don’t remem-member ah-anything.” “That’s the drug,” Vyoti said gently. “It’s notorious for the effect it has on the memory. But you’re safe now, and you don’t seem to have had too high a dose of it since you’re recovering already. Gerot can kill—often has done. At least you’re lucky in that respect.”
Karik could only stare as he tried to process this information. It made no sense. He refused to accept...how could he have been...and not remember.... He clutched at his arms to stop himself shaking. “I wuh-want to be ah-alone.” “I understand,” Vyoti said. “I’ll be at my desk. Try and rest, drink more of the tea. I’m sorry about this, Karik.” Karik ignored the advice to drink more tea, setting it aside so he could hide under the covers. His body...the pain...he knew Vyoti wasn’t lying...but how? It made him want to vomit all over again. Jou came by again, how much later he didn’t know or care, but he refused to talk to her, so she left. He couldn’t bear to talk to anyone. How could he trust anyone? How could he face anyone? Why couldn’t he remember what happened? How could something this awful just...disappear? He managed to sleep again, but when he woke, he ignored Vyoti when he asked how he was. Karik didn’t want to eat, or drink, or talk. He just wanted to...hide. And for the pain to go away—it felt like someone had shoved a hot poker up his arse, and for all he knew, someone had. Vyoti offered him pijn but he refused it—he didn’t want to be drugged unconscious again. Sometime later, he heard low voices—male voices. He pulled the blankets closer around his ears and pretended he couldn’t hear them at all, hoping they would think he was asleep. A scuff of chair against the tiled floor, and creaking wood, told him someone had taken a seat by the bed. He continued to ignore them. “Karik? It’s Romi. I know you’re not feeling very well, but I wanted to visit, tell you what we’re doing to try and find the person who did this.” Karik pulled the blankets tighter around himself. That was enough confirmation for Romi that he was listening, unfortunately, so he continued. “Wepizi and the local soldiers have been out searching since last night. No one saw anything, unfortunately. It would help if I could ask you some questions—I know this is hard for you to talk about.” Know? How would he know? Karik pulled the blankets away from his face. “G-go away,” he said, giving Romi his fiercest glare. “I will in a minute,” Romi said in a mild tone, clearly not intimidated. “But if you could help me with this, it might stop whoever it was doing it to someone else. It’s bad enough it’s happened to you, but someone who’s prepared to drug and...attack...a complete stranger is very dangerous. I want them caught. We all want them caught.” Karik closed his eyes again. If he didn’t have to look at anyone...he was trembling again and he couldn’t control it at all. “I d-don’t remem-member ah-anything.” “What’s the last thing you do remember? Before you woke up here, I mean.” If only his head would just stop hurting, it might be easier to recall. “The b-barracks,” he said finally. “Do you remember going to the market with Jou?” Karik shook his head. “What about supper with Soza?”
Soza.... Karik shook his head again, fighting down a sudden bout of nausea. “Nuh-nothing. S-ssorry.” Romi didn’t seem annoyed, which was a relief. “It’s all right. Vyoti warned us about this. We’ll keep searching, be sure of that. Now, what I’ve told people is that you’ve been drugged and attacked, but not how. You don’t need to tell anyone unless you want to, and right now only I, Wepizi and Netu know—Netu half-guessed and since I wanted him to make sure you didn’t suffer any after-affects, I told him the truth. He won’t tell anyone else. I haven’t....” He cleared his throat. “Um, I haven’t told Soza either...do you want me to?” “No!” Romi looked taken aback, and Karik himself didn’t really know why he’d been so vehement. “As you wish. I’ve told him you’ll need time to recover and you’ll be here until further notice. I owe you an apology, though it’s not really adequate considering—” “Wuh-why?” “You would never have been attacked if I’d stuck to my decision to have you both stay here as I’d planned. I let Soza annoy me into agreeing to something I shouldn’t have, and I let you down, let you down unforgivably. I’ll make sure it doesn’t happen again. You’re part of my team, and you deserve my protection same as anyone else. I’m very sorry,” he said, bowing his head. Karik stared, completely and utterly lost for words. He couldn’t detect the least sarcasm or hostility, and Romi seemed quite genuinely regretful. He huddled down into the blankets again, wishing Romi would go away. Amazingly, the man took the hint and stood up. “I’ve asked Jou and Netu to keep an eye on you, see if there’s anything we can do. I won’t bother you unless you want to speak to me. Would you like me to send Soza to you?” Karik shook his head—he didn’t know why, but just the mention of Soza’s name made his stomach curdle. None of it made sense at all. Maybe if he went back to sleep, he’d wake up and find it had all been some horrible nightmare. But he had a feeling it wouldn’t work like that.
~~~~~~~~ Wepizi was waiting for Romi as he came out of the infirmary—they were to eat together and Romi wanted the latest information about the investigation. “How is he?” his friend asked as they began to walk across the yard. “Shocked—sick. Poor bastard—doesn’t remember anything since early afternoon yesterday, which doesn’t help us at all. I tell you, Wepizi, if I knew who was making that drug or selling it, I’d strangle them.” “It’s evil, I agree, but there’s always someone who wants to bend others to their will and unfortunately, gerot has that effect. If Karik had been given more, we could be looking at a murder, not just an assault.”
“Then at least we can be grateful for that, but I don’t think he feels all that grateful to be alive,” Romi said, recalling Karik’s red and miserable eyes set in a far too pale face. “Did you discover anything?” “Not a thing. Those boots make no sense. Why would someone attack Karik and throw his boots a good two hundred yards from where we found him? I can’t believe the attack happened where we found them—there would be too much risk of discovery.” “But equally, he can’t have been attacked where we found him either.” Romi rubbed his chin. A search of Soza’s room had revealed nothing, but oddly, the boots had been found where Wepizi was sure they had looked before. “If someone had stolen the boots, they wouldn’t discard them later—there was lots of wear left in them, and they were well-made. Valuable if you didn’t own a pair.” “Perhaps someone realised we were searching for them,” Wepizi said, then he sighed. “I hate to admit it, my friend, but I don’t think we will find out who did this. We will keep looking, but without an obvious suspect, no witnesses, no evidence and no memory of the events from the victim, we’re stuck. It’s an offence against Sephiz, both the crime and the fact we will have to see the criminal get away with it.” “I promised Karik we’d keep looking, but I think you’re right. Poor bastard—it shouldn’t happen.” “I’ve been talking to the people here, who have more experience of such matters—they say the victims of such attacks are worse off than most, since they can’t even console themselves with the knowledge they fought back. We need to reassure Karik that this wasn’t his fault.” “No, it wasn’t. A healer, a son of a healer, wouldn’t take a drug carelessly, so he had to have been tricked. How that happened, I don’t know—we’ll probably never know, damn it. If only that pissing Soza had gone with Karik last night.” Wepizi stroked his moustache and gave Romi a thoughtful look. “His behaviour is odd, don’t you think? When I questioned him, he was much more annoyed than worried, and principally concerned with the inconvenience to him and any possible delay to the expedition. It wasn’t the behaviour of a friend, let alone a lover.” “Well, you know what I think of him, and nothing that bastard does surprises me anymore. Karik doesn’t want to see him, so at least he’s not deluded enough to think Soza would be of any use in this matter.” “It’s the strangest relationship I’ve ever seen,” Wepizi said disapprovingly. “I know what you mean. Come on, the others will want to know the latest.” Karik’s popularity with Romi’s people made discretion difficult. Putting visits off for a day or so would be easy, but after that it was only natural they would want to see him for themselves, and they were naturally worried and curious about what had happened. His only choice was to be as frank as he dared. In answer to Reisa’s question about Karik’s condition, he was blunt. “He’s sick and still very shaken. At the moment, he just wants to be left alone, and we should respect that for however long it takes him to accept what happened.”
There were nods of sympathy all round. “I’ve never heard of such a thing,” Kepi said. “It’s vile.” “It’s worse when you don’t know what happened and can’t explain it to yourself,” Wepizi said. “The kindest thing you can do for Karik is to let him set the pace. None of us know what this will be like for him, so there’s no point in demanding a quick recovery.” “Will we have to delay our departure?” Taz asked. “Almost certainly, so I expect you all to make the most of the steam rooms and good food while you can,” Romi said. His words were met with rueful grins. “And none of you is to imply to Karik that any delay is on account of him. If he asks, the official line is that Wepizi and the officers here want more time to look over our maps and we want to gather more information about the mountain routes.” “I notice that pissing Soza hasn’t been around,” Netu said darkly. “Some damn friend he is.” “Yes, well, maybe it’s best he’s not. I don’t want any of you discussing any of this with him, and if he’s got questions, he’s to come to Wepizi or me. Karik’s confidence has taken quite a knock and I don’t want that bastard inflicting his usual level of tact and diplomacy on him.” “He’s more likely to make Karik cut his own throat,” Sibu said. She and Jou had come into more than the usual amount of caustic comments from Soza—the man didn’t like women at all, which was another reason to think he was a waste of air. “Permission to make him fall into a ravine, captain?” “Denied, soldier,” Romi said, as the others grinned. “He’s not worth the paperwork.” “He’s not worth much at all,” Pali said, his friends Matu and Tiro nodding at his words. “You’d think the naturalists were the only specialists on the team, to hear him talk.” “Well, fortunately, I don’t listen to him, so don’t worry about it. Now, tell me what you’ve been up to today.” And that was as much as Romi could do for Karik, at least for now. The man continued to refuse visitors, even Jou, and Romi didn’t press the issue. He got reports twice a day from the healer Vyoti or his staff, who said that Karik’s physical injuries were healing well, although mentally he was very low, had a poor appetite and spent most of the time lying on the bed pretending to be asleep. He was also obviously distressed by the holes in his memory, and unwilling to talk without a lot of prompting. Romi wondered how Karik would cope with the rest of the journey, and was trying to think of a diplomatic way of suggesting he returned to Tsikiugui with Wepizi’s two soldiers and the collections. He couldn’t come up with anything that wouldn’t be outright proof to Karik that Romi thought he wasn’t up to his job, and he didn’t want to do that to the poor sod. The young man who had been with Karik the day Romi had met him at the market called and was most anxious about his condition. He was told Karik couldn’t have visitors, and he left a note with his best wishes in it for his recovery. That was more than Soza did—he avoided the barracks, and other than two brief notes, made no enquiry about Karik at all. As Wepizi had said more than once, it was very odd—it couldn’t be helping Karik’s mental state, but if they were to lie and claim that Soza had been solicitous, it might do more harm. What a pissing mess.
He’d told Soza that Karik would be staying at the barracks until they left, and Soza hadn’t protested, although he’d firmly stated his intention to stay at the inn, which suited Romi fine in the circumstances. He’d retrieved Karik’s pack and had it stored safely for him, though he didn’t know when he would leave the infirmary. Five days after the attack, Romi was surprised to see Karik walking slowly along the verandah, clearly headed towards the sleeping quarters. He hurried over to him. “Oh, you’ve been released.” Karik stared at his feet. “Y-yes,” he said, almost in a whisper. “Can we have a chat then? I’d just like to know how you are, how you’re feeling.” Karik’s cheeks went pink, and for a moment, Romi was sure he would refuse, but then he said “Yes” again in a quiet voice, and followed Romi to a bench against the wall. Romi noted the care with which he sat. “Are you sure you’re healed enough to be out of the infirmary?” “I’m fuh-fine.” “There’s no hurry, you know. Wepizi’s got some additional work to do here and we won’t be leaving for at least a week.” “I’m fuh-fine.” “Well, that’s good.” Karik still hadn’t looked at him. “We, uh, thought you might still like to sleep in the infirmary, with it being more private...or we could put a cot in an office.” Karik’s head snapped up. “I’m fuh-fine! L-leave m-me al-alone.” Romi raised his hands in appeasement. “Look, I’d be worried about anyone on my team who was hurt, not just you. It’s my job to make sure you’re all right. I’m not trying to pry or hurt your feelings.” “I’m fuh-fine,” Karik said in a dull voice, looking at the ground again. “If you’d stop repeating that, I might be more convinced. Karik—you know you’ve no reason to be ashamed. This isn’t all that uncommon a crime in Visiqe, unfortunately. It’s not because you did something.” “Wuh-we d-don’t know, b-b-because I c-can’t remem-member.” Even with this strange stutter he’d suddenly acquired, the bitterness was more than clear enough. “All right, we don’t know—we’ll probably never know because we don’t have a witness or any clues. But I know you, I’ve seen you work—you’re not the kind of person to behave in a foolish fashion, or invite trouble. I think this is just bad luck, compounded by my lack of foresight. It’s not going to happen again, and then we’ll be out of Visiqe soon.” Karik made no response to his words, and continued to look steadfastly at his boots—those puzzling boots which still bothered Romi a good deal. “Is there anything anyone can do?” Romi asked gently. “Would you like to talk to Wepizi?” Karik shook his head. “I’m fuh—”
“Fine, yes, you said.” Romi sighed. “Let me at least show you the quarters and get your pack for you. Would you like Jou to show you around?” Another headshake. “All right. It’s this way. The food’s good, if you’re interested,” he said, then winced at his own insensitivity—Karik probably wouldn’t want to eat too much until he was completely healed. “There’s a decent library too—nothing like the academy, I imagine, but you might like to take a look.” Even that bait failed to raise any interest. The sleeping quarters were larger than the ones in Tsikiugui, but fortunately almost deserted at this time of day. Romi’s team had been allocated a corner, and without asking Karik, he assigned him a space at the very edge of the other sleeping pads. “Latrines through there. Steam room over on the right —no one will mind if you want to bathe during the day. We don’t have to follow their routine.” Karik faced the wall, apparently examining his coat. “S-Stop b-babying me.” “I’m not, I’m honestly not. Look—if it had been anyone else hurt, and they were coming to the barracks for the first time, would you expect me to just throw them at the quarters and leave them to get on with it? Will you at least look at me?” Reluctantly, Karik turned, his eyes stormy. “Now, listen to me. It’s my job to look after you. You’ve had an injury like any other, and I’ve got to make sure you’re fit and well, same as I would for anyone else. Just as we accommodate the women’s monthly cycles, and Reisa’s piles, and the fact that Pali farts like an urs beast. We work around all those things, and make sure no one feels they can’t do their job because of something I’ve forgotten to consider. I know you and I haven’t got on, and I don’t expect you like me any better than you did when we started this journey. But damn it, if you think I’m happy that you’re hurt, you don’t know the first thing about me!” He’d let his passions get the better of him, and Karik looked a little stunned. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to speak to you like that.” “It’s al-all right. C-Can you l-leave me al-alone now?” “Yes, certainly. The building across the yard with the flag is the guard post. If you go out—and I hope you won’t—tell them, and if you need me, they’ll know where I am. If you need anything, Karik, tell me. Or tell one of the team. Don’t not get over this because of something we could do for you.” Karik nodded, and turned away again, which Romi figured was his cue to leave the poor bastard alone. He left him standing there, looking young and forlorn, and wondered what anyone could do to repair the damage that pissing rapist had caused. Romi had only dealt with a single truly vicious rape in his career, though he’d had three cases where drunken sex and wrongly presumed consent had caused a good deal of pain and anger for the victims. In those situations, at least the parties were known to each other, and the man was usually deeply remorseful when he’d realised what he’d done. For it to be a stranger, apparently random, was so much worse, at least so it seemed to Romi. He knew very little about the effects of something like this, but he’d had so little reason to study it. For all Romi sometimes regretted its dull and provincial nature, Temshek was a very safe place where serious crime was thankfully rare. He missed it right now. He found Wepizi and told him Karik was out of the infirmary. His friend listened with sympathy to his description of the not terribly successful conversation. “I don’t think you can do much more for him
just now, Romi. He needs time to sort things out in his head. It’s unfortunate he’s decided to leave the infirmary while he’s not completely fit, but perhaps he dislikes being coddled.” “That’s the impression I got, but I don’t know how he’ll feel being surrounded by fifty or sixty other people. I’d send him back to the inn if it weren’t for Soza, and if it weren’t for the fact I want to be able to watch him.” “Sounds like he wouldn’t let you anyway, my friend.” Wepizi shook his head. “Some journeys must be made alone.” Which was true, but rather harsh. He tried not to look as if he was watching Karik in particular as the soldiers returned to the sleeping quarters for the evening meal. The rest of the team greeted Karik enthusiastically, but he was clearly trying not to cringe. It obviously took all his courage to let them pat his shoulder and stand close to him. Romi now wished he’d been more explicit in his instructions to his people, but not being stupid, any of them, they backed off anyway when they saw his reaction. No one got any more conversation out of him than Romi had earlier. Karik took his food and sat down to eat it at the end of the table, and left to sit on his sleeping mat long before the others had started to drink their tea. Romi’s people respected his need for privacy but there were still a good many curious looks, and not just from the Darshianese. Romi thought it wouldn’t do any good to say anything, so he didn’t. But he felt very bad for the pain Karik was obviously carrying in body and soul. He wasn’t surprised Karik didn’t join them at the steam room. Naturally his strange reticence was mentioned, but Romi discouraged open speculation. It seemed unfair to talk about Karik’s obvious incapacity when he didn’t know what was being said—he’d had his privacy violated enough. When the rest of them returned to the quarters, Karik was already bundled up on his sleeping furs, his pad shoved as far into the corner as he could manage it, the message unmistakeable—“leave me alone.” Wepizi and Romi did their best to deflect attention from the silent figure in the corner, but Romi had to wonder how he would avoid his fellows in the more intimate environment of the tent while they were on the trail. He would need to talk to Wepizi about it the following day, he decided. It could be pure torment for the man if he continued to find close contact with other people so difficult.
~~~~~~~~ Romi usually fell asleep easily, and tonight was no exception. As was also usual, he slept lightly, so he wasn’t surprised to find himself awake some time later—it happened two or three times a night while they were in foreign barracks, the unfamiliar sounds of unfamiliar soldiers enough to keep his senses on alert. He didn’t mind, as he would go back to sleep quickly enough, and usually he didn’t even bother trying to work out what had woken him. But this time, there was something new— something the back of his mind told him to pay attention to. He lifted his head and searched the gloom, lit only by three low lamps that provided just enough light for a sleepy soldier to pick their way around
unconscious bodies on the way to the latrine. At first he could see nothing, but then he looked over to the sleeping pad in the corner—and realised the occupant was missing. The noise had been a door opening and closing—and he knew instinctively that it hadn’t been the one to the latrines. Silently he rose and found his coat—Karik’s was still on its peg, so he lifted it off and took it with him. He didn’t have to search at all—the man was sitting on the edge of the verandah, staring out into the yard. He started violently as he heard Romi’s footstep. “Easy—I just brought your coat. It’s still a bit too cold to be sitting in your shirtsleeves.” Indeed, there was a frosty feel to the clear mountain air, and even in his coat, Romi shivered a little. Karik accepted the coat and put it around his shoulders without a word. Romi sat down near him— not too close—and lit a fire sprite. “Couldn’t sleep?” Karik shook his head. “You’re not in pain?” “N-no m-more than u-usual.” Which could mean anything, really. “Ah well. It’s a lovely night. The stars seem so close up here, don’t you think? I could look at them all night, they’re fascinating.” That earned him a quick glance from his companion. “Feive and Gizwei are leaving in the next day or two—I suppose you know that.” Karik nodded but said nothing. Romi thought he might try at least to suggest an alternative. “You know, the team’s got the collecting technique down to a fine art, and we won’t be dealing with anything like the number of tribes we were in the low country. Wepizi and I were thinking there might be an advantage in trimming the group down a little, and I was going to ask if anyone wanted to go home at this point.” He hesitated. “That includes you, of course.” Karik didn’t seem to have heard—at least there was no reaction. “Karik? You could be back in Darshek in five weeks, if you wanted to....” “N-No.” “All right. If you change your mind—” “N-No.” “As you wish,” Romi said peaceably, as if it wasn’t of the least importance. “It’s pretty chilly, don’t you think? Maybe you should try sleeping again.” “I c-can’t....” “Sleep?” “Rem-member. I c-can’t re-member a-anything. Wuh-why c-can’t uh-I?” In the firelight, Romi saw his companion trembling, and he doubted it was because of the cold. He laid a hand on Karik’s shoulder. “Listen—” He’d only meant to comfort him, but Karik reacted as if he had applied a brand to him, leaping up and yelling, “No!” in a panic before running into the yard, his coat falling from his shoulders. Romi instinctively started to go after him, but found a hand laid on his own shoulder. He looked up and saw Jou. “Let me,” she said quietly.
“Go on,” he said, subsiding, watching her pick up Karik’s coat, and walk quickly over to where he stood with his head thrown back, his hands clenching and unclenching, his violent trembling visible even in the moonlight. At first he repelled her too, almost angrily, as she insisted on putting the coat on him, but she persisted, holding the coat closed around his shoulders and making him face her. What he had rejected from Romi, he reluctantly accepted from her, and in moments his face was buried on her shoulder as she held him close. Romi didn’t need the faint sounds to tell him that Karik was sobbing. Poor sod. Romi felt embarrassed to witness his breakdown, but at the same time, he didn’t want to walk off and abandon them, or to make Karik feel like it was shameful to be so upset, so he just sat in silence and waited. He was so grateful that Jou’s instincts had woken her—she always knew the right thing to do or say. Romi felt out of his depth in this situation. Jou held Karik for a long time, endlessly patient. This was what Karik needed, Romi was sure—an undemanding, non-judgmental soul to comfort him, and he certainly wouldn’t have got such gentleness from his lover, even if the bastard had the slightest inclination to try. Though the night was drawing on, and Romi was cold and uncomfortable, he wouldn’t leave his post until he was sure the other two were all right. Finally Jou and Karik walked back. Romi stood, ready to go inside and give them privacy, but Karik lifted his head and looked right at him. “H-have you g-got t-time?” “Of course.” Jou sat down on the verandah edge and so did Karik. Romi settled again, and tried not to look as cold as he felt. He lit another fire sprite, just for the comfort of the light. “I-I’m s-sorry.” “There’s no need to be, Karik. We look out for each other—that’s what a team is for.” Karik nodded, his hands clenching as they rested on his thighs. “I c-can’t rem-member wuh-what hah-happened.” “It’s the drug,” Jou said. “It’s not something you can control.” “I k-keep th-thinking, wuh-what if th-they are wuh-waiting fuh-for me...wuh-what d-did I d-do to muh-make them c-come ah-after me?” “Nothing,” Romi said firmly. “Nothing at all, I’m absolutely sure of that. I told you—bad luck, that’s what it was. Maybe...they noticed your hair, or you were in the right place at the wrong time, or you reminded them of someone else—but Karik, no one asks for this to be done to them.” Karik turned anguished eyes on him. “B-But the dr-drug...I t-took the dr-drug.” “Vyoti says gerot is tasteless, more or less, and easily disguised. You could have accepted a beer, or a cup of wine, or even just eaten some soup with it in. A sweetmeat possibly. Something entirely innocent—and who would suspect such a thing could happen? I’m a lot more experienced than you, and even I wouldn’t have suspected someone was trying to drug me. Look at the number of times we’ve had food from strangers on this journey—any time we could have been drugged but we haven’t been and wouldn’t ever expect to be. No one thinks of such things. Stop punishing yourself.”
Karik seemed about to say something, but didn’t, just turning his face away, his expression becoming bleak. “I ha-have n-nightmares. O-Over and o-over. S-someone h-holding me d-down. Huhhurting me. B-But I c-can’t see their f-face. I-If I c-could s-see their fuh-face, I wuh-would know and I wuh-wouldn’t b-be so s-scared.” “Oh, Karik,” Jou said gently. “It must be awful, but you’re safe now. No one can hurt you here. Now we know such a thing can happen, we’re all looking out for each other. I personally won’t let anyone harm a hair on your head,” she added fiercely. “And you know I can beat any man on the team.” “Except me, corporal.” “Except you, yet, captain,” she said with a grin. It raised the briefest smile on Karik’s tired face. “You’re safe now, Karik. All you need to do is get better and then we can get out of this awful city.” “At least we can once Wepizi’s done with his tasks,” Romi said quickly, not wanting Karik to get the idea he was the cause of the delay. “That’s what I meant,” Jou said. “D-Don’t huh-humour me,” Karik said quietly. “I kn-know you’re wuh-waiting for me.” “No, we’re not,” Romi said. “Wepizi had already said he wished we had longer in Visiqe and he’s glad of the excuse. Everyone else needs the downtime too—it’s been a pissing hard four months, and a week here or there makes no difference to the mission. I don’t miss that damn tent, I can tell you. I was even wondering if we could split the thing up for this part, or even camp under the stars. Pali’s farts get a bit ripe sometimes.” “Oh, gods, don’t mention those,” Jou said with a groan. “And it’s worse if he does the cooking. I have no idea why.” “Well, maybe we can arrange things differently now the weather’s so much warmer. But my point is that this is a long mission, hard on everyone. So don’t be sorry if we use you as an excuse for a break —we all need it.” Karik searched his face as if trying to find out if he was lying, but then seemed satisfied, because he nodded. “I’ll tr-try to g-get better.” “Gods, no one thinks you’re malingering,” Romi said impatiently. “I thought you should have stayed in the infirmary a few more days.” “D-Don’t l-like them.” “Fair enough. Now, do you think you can get back to sleep? Are you sure you wouldn’t like a cot in an office? Just until you find your feet again.” Karik wrapped his arms around himself and shook his head. “N-need to g-get u-used to it.” “All right, I understand that. I’m the same.” “Me too,” Jou said. “And you can come outside if you need the space. If you want company, just kick me.”
“Or me,” Romi said, though he doubted Karik would ever want his company. “Are you going to try to go to sleep again?” “Y-Yes.” He looked so miserable that Jou gave him an impulsive but still careful hug. “Sleep well, Karik,” she said kindly. “We’ll keep you safe, I swear on my mother’s life and the honour of my clan.” He gave her a brief, grateful smile and then stood, glancing at Romi as he did. He walked back inside without another word, closing the door behind him with a quiet click. “Oh, gods.” Romi patted her shoulder. “That was well done, Jou. Thank you.” She turned and gave him a filthy look. “You bastard, captain Romi.” “Huh?” “Why in hells didn’t you tell me everything? He’s been raped, hasn’t he?” Romi shook his head. His people were just too damn smart. “It’s not something I wanted shouted across the yard, corporal.” She’d kept her voice very low, but it was the principle he was stating. “I know that, captain—but it explains so much. If I’d known...that poor man. He’s trying so hard but he’s wound tight as a spring. I can’t imagine what it feels like not to know what happened, but to know that it did. I don’t know how to help him.” “I think you did, despite that. Now you know, you know why this needs such careful handling. I don’t want this bandied about. Netu knows, I know, Wepizi knows. And that’s it. You saw him tonight —if he thought people were sniggering behind his back, it would kill him.” “No one will hear it from me,” she declared stoutly. “But is he going to be able to travel?” “I honestly don’t know. If it comes to it, and he’s not ready, then I guess I would have to order him back. But we’ve got a week—give him that. Be kind, let him talk, give him privacy. I think he can cope if he’s not pushed. But we need to keep Soza away from him.” “Agreed. I was surprised he told us all that—I mean, that he told you too. No offence, Romi, but you and he don’t exactly get on.” “This isn’t news, corporal,” Romi said dryly. “I’m not going to mention it unless he does. I suspect he’ll think he’s been three types of fool in the morning. But one more thing—now you know, you and Netu can both keep an eye on his health. He’s not fully healed—he should still be in the infirmary.” “Yes, I know, but if a patient won’t stay, making them just defeats the purpose. I’ll watch him, and if anyone lays a finger on him, I’ll chop it off.” Romi grinned at his subordinate. “You scare me sometimes, corporal Jou.” “Good, that’s how it should be. ‘Night, captain.” “‘Night, Jou. Thanks again.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Staying Power: 21 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Karik’s situation was the most delicate Romi had ever had to handle, and so he relied upon the advice of the older, wiser and more experienced Wepizi to make sure that their injured comrade was protected and insulated without feeling smothered. It was arranged that one of the four of them always had Karik within earshot, if not actual eyesight, and Romi made it his personal business to know exactly where Karik was at all time. It wasn’t hard—the man didn’t seem inclined to leave the barracks, and spent most of the time in the small library, ostensibly reading, but most of the time staring into space, lost in what were clearly miserable thoughts. Romi wished he had an answer for Karik. Not knowing ‘who’—and, more importantly, ‘why’— was torturing him, but Wepizi’s investigation had turned up nothing. Such crimes were among the most difficult to solve anyway, but since Karik was a stranger to the city and had no known associates among whom suspects might be found, even that slight thread of enquiry was stifled. The one person whose behaviour seemed odd was the one person who really couldn’t have been behind it. Romi couldn’t even really say Soza was acting out of character—he was a cold, ruthless person, and since by all reports, he’d been received warmly at the academy, he clearly had no need to see to his injured lover. Romi wondered if Karik had outlived his usefulness to the man, and silently hoped this was the case. Even if it brought conflict on the journey, he now passionately wanted Karik to turn his loathsome lover aside. Life was too short to spend it in an unhappy relationship, and if Karik was happy with Soza, Romi was a jombeker. He was sitting on the edge of the verandah, looking over some notes that Pali had made for him, relishing the warmth of the noonday sun—though the spring was well-advanced, the high thin air was cold, and it was only in direct sun that one ever felt really warm outdoors. Karik was in the library behind him, and Romi planned to go in soon to invite him to come to lunch. Karik’s appetite was something else that had taken a knock since the attack, though he would usually agree if someone reminded him to eat. It had been three days since he’d left the infirmary, and he was moving a little more easily, though he was as quiet and unwilling to be around people as ever. He was trying to act normally, and Romi admired the courage it took. Wepizi said it could take people years to get over something like this. Romi got the impression Karik wouldn’t allow himself to take that length of time. He looked up at the sound of footsteps and found a young soldier coming towards him. “Captain Romi? I have a note for Karik, from his friend.” “I’ll take it in. Thanks.” The soldier handed him the message, bowed and left. Romi wondered if he should read it first, or whether he should give it to Karik at all. Soza knew he was out of the infirmary—hadn’t come to visit —and Romi really didn’t trust him not to be tactless. But then, he was Karik’s lover, and both of them
were adults. He collected his notes, and went into the library, knocking at the doorframe to give Karik plenty of warning. “Letter from Soza for you.” Karik nodded and accepted the note, but didn’t look at it immediately. “Wuh-when do w-we leave?” “Soon, but there’s no hurry. Two or three days at least. Wepizi would like the risk of deep snow gone before we leave. Are you ready to travel?” He was careful to keep his tone as neutral as possible. “Y-Yes. S-Sooner the b-better.” “Well, that’s good to know. Ah, Netu’s been doing some reading up about gerot—he says one of the lingering after-effects can be headaches. Had any of those?” Karik unfolded the note as he shook his head. “N-no.” “Good. I’m glad we don’t have such drugs in Darshian.” Karik only nodded again. He read the note and then folded it up, looking troubled. “Bad news?” Romi asked gently. “Uh...n-no. S-Soza wuh-wants me to c-come to the ah-academy soon. I-If we’re l-leaving, I shshould go t-today.” “Would you mind if someone went with you? I’m free, if you wouldn’t object.” Karik looked up at him with apparent relief. “Th-thank you, y-yes.” Romi was pleased at the acceptance, both of him and the necessity of an escort. He really didn’t want Karik wandering around on his own—not until they knew what had happened to him. “Why don’t we have lunch and then we can walk over?” Karik agreed without the least quibble. Though he was hardly friendly, at least he was a lot more civil these days. Romi didn’t know if it was because he appreciated the help Romi had tried to give him, or whether it was because he knew he needed the help. He just hoped it would survive renewed contact with Soza, because if that bastard had a talent for anything, it was for causing trouble. “I’ve got some of my pay advanced as Andonese coin, and it’s burning a hole in my pocket— would you let me treat you to some street fare? Kepi and Taz found this stall in the market that does the best meat sticks I’ve ever tasted.” “I—” Karik flushed and Romi couldn’t work out why at first—then he suddenly realised. “You won’t eat anything I don’t try first, I swear.” “I d-don’t.... I d-don’t wuh-want to be ah-afraid.” “I understand, but being cautious isn’t cowardly. You have good reason to be careful.” “N-No. I wuh...wuh-won’t let him rule me.” After days of watching Karik slink around like a thief, seeing the familiar flash of pride in his eyes was welcome. Romi nodded in approval. “Then he won’t. Come on.” Despite that brave determination, Romi could see in every line of Karik’s body just how difficult it was for him to enter the milling throng of people beyond the barracks. Even without Karik’s blond hair,
they stood out with their braids and foreign dress, and they got a good many curious looks. Karik had never been bothered by the looks he’d got before, but now he walked with his head hung low, as if ashamed at the attention. Romi didn’t know how to bolster his confidence other than to just be at his side—he couldn’t help thinking Jou or Wepizi would handle this situation better, but it was too late for that. The stall was busy and they had to wait their turn, but finally Romi had two generous handfuls of the seasoned skewered meat—the smell made his mouth water, and even awoke Karik’s interest. “Here,” he said casually, holding them out. To his credit, Karik didn’t even hesitate, though he was likely to choke swallowing food that quickly. “I’d ask how you liked it, but I think it’d need to touch the insides of your mouth for you to know how it tasted,” Romi said dryly, which got him a dirty look, although Karik did eat the next bite more slowly. “So, is it as good as I said?” Karik nodded, nibbling at another stick in a more genteel fashion. Romi ate his own food with relish—he wished he could get food this spicy in Darshian, but the only people who lived in the south who liked it were the Prij, and he didn’t like Prijian food because the flavours were too oddly mixed. The spices reminded him of the last time he’d seen Lema—she’d cooked a big meat pot, a delicious farewell meal, full of warmth and made with love as was everything else she ever did. Such a beautiful girl to have died so young. “Is s-something wrong?” Romi snapped out of his sad reverie and looked around. “No...just remembering a friend. You want a seeded bread roll with that? It’s the best thing to eat with the meat.” The bread caused no difficulty, but buying a mug of drizu did. Romi could see the way Karik’s thoughts were going—a drink was so much more easily adulterated than bread or meat—and without asking, he took a sip from each mug before handing one to Karik. Karik gave him a rueful look. “I-I’m being s-stupid, aren’t I?” “No, I don’t think so. I’d have done that whichever of our team I was with,” Romi said quietly. “Now we know the risk...and any of us could be a target, just because we’re different.” “I-I’m more different th-than anyone.” “Yes, but we don’t know that it was an important difference. It’s much more likely it was simply because you were outside the barracks and an easy target. Won’t happen again, not now we know to watch out for each other. I wouldn’t have done that if I didn’t know I could trust you to look out for me.” Karik looked a little surprised at that comment, but it was only the truth. “Now, if you’re finished...?”
~~~~~~~~
Karik was disgusted with himself, allowing Romi’s presence to give him confidence, when he should have been able to look after himself as he had done for years. But no matter how much he tried to think his way out of it, he just didn’t seem to be able to get past the fear. The only thing that worked was the help so freely—and graciously—offered, and for the moment, all he could do was use that to try and regain his stability. He envied Romi—so unafraid, so confident. Nothing like this would ever happen to him. No one would dare try it. Disgusted or not, without Romi’s presence he would never have been able to return to the market, or eat food he’d not prepared himself. He’d expected to be mocked for his foolishness, and had been surprised at the patience Romi was prepared to show him. Karik could really begin to like the man, if he could forget what Romi had said about his family. As it was, he was just grateful not to be tormented, and determined to get over this stupidity as quickly as he could. He didn’t want to return to Darshian as a cripple—or with this damned stutter he’d worked so hard to lose and over which he had lost all control once more. Fighting a childish impulse to cling to Romi’s arm as they made their way through the impossibly crowded streets, Karik hoped he would be able to present a calm front to the scholars at the academy. He had already lost so much valuable time, and now it was unlikely he would achieve anything useful. Such a wasted opportunity—Kei would be cross, because talking to the people in Visiqe had been one of the things Jezinke had most wanted him to do. Romi looked around curiously as they walked through the gates of the academy, and Karik wondered what he thought of it. And then he wondered why he cared—it wasn’t like Romi could possibly be interested in the work of the academy, and his opinion made no difference to Karik. He had to resist treating the man like a friend, just because he was behaving decently while a team member was injured. Romi was not someone Karik wanted as a friend. He was a teammate, a good leader—yes, Karik granted him that much. But never more than that. “Do you want me to go in with you?” Romi asked politely. Karik hesitated, then nodded. “Please.” Romi smiled. “I’ll be on my best behaviour then.” “Th-that’ll be a n-novelty.” Which, to his surprise once again, only made the man grin. He didn’t understand Romi. He could be so touchy, and yet when Karik was outright insulting him, he just saw it as funny. He reminded Karik a little of Arman in that way. He turned his attention to where they were going. A clerk said the Darshianese visitor was in the library with the other scholars. Karik took a deep breath, tried to look calm and made his way to the reading room. Soza rushed over to him as soon as he saw Karik. Karik tried not to flinch, but his stomach churned again, and he couldn’t pretend it was the spicy food he’d had for lunch.
“Karik, my dear boy—you look completely well! I understood you’d been severely injured but you’re fine. Obviously the reports have been grossly exaggerated.” Soza glanced at Romi. “Lieutenant, I wasn’t aware the invitation extended to you.” “‘Captain’,” Romi said politely. Karik had also long ago grown tired of Soza’s insistence on this point. “Karik was kind enough to ask me along since I haven’t seen the academy before.” Karik stared but then stopped, realising it would point out Romi’s kind lie. Soza sniffed. “We’re not here for your entertainment. Come along, Karik, we’ve wasted enough time. Ritizik has disappeared off somewhere and I need your assistance.” He took Karik’s arm as he’d done so many times before, but this time, the simple action left Karik filled with terror, paralysing him. “N-no,” he whispered. “Karik? Don’t be tiresome, we’ve got a lot of work to do before we leave.” He tugged harder on Karik’s arm, but Karik couldn’t make his legs move. He just wanted Soza to stop touching him—now. “N-no,” he whispered. “S-stop.” Suddenly a long-fingered hand reached past him and gripped Soza’s wrist, physically removing the grip. That was the last straw for Karik, and he fled blindly outside to the garden, desperately looking for somewhere to hide. He crouched by a large bush and was quietly sick into the plant bed. His stomach emptied, and still shaking, he sat back on his heels as tears of pure embarrassment ran down his face. Oh, gods, how could he show his face here again? He flinched as a shadow fell across him, but it was only Romi, offering him a handkerchief with which to wipe his mouth. Karik took it, not wanting to look at the man. Was there any limit to the humiliation this attack was going to bring? “I’ll fetch some water, or tea, if you want,” Romi said quietly. Karik shook his head—his guts were still in turmoil. “S-Sorry.” “Gods, it’s not your damn fault. Soza should have had more sense.” Karik felt he should defend his friend, but he also felt Soza could have thought about it more. “He d-doesn’t know.” “Karik, anyone with eyes can see you don’t want to be grabbed right now.” Karik looked up. “I d-don’t wuh-want to l-look like a v-victim.” “You don’t—not exactly. But you look nervy and that’s not your fault. I’m sure you’ll get past it soon. But he should have thought. I should have thought and suggested you gave this a miss.” “Th-this is my j-job,” Karik said coldly. “I h-have to do th-this.” Romi gave him an exasperated look. “Yes, I know it’s your job. But facts are facts—you’re injured, you’re not up to this, and that’s all there is to it. We’ll just have to work around it, and so will you and so will Soza. You try and force it and this is what happens.”
Karik pushed himself to his feet, feeling much more shaky than he would have liked. “I h-have to go b-back.” He found his path partly blocked, though he could have got past Romi if he wanted. “Wait. Is there no other way? Can books be brought to you? Could questions be asked by note? We have people who could do the running back and forth, people who’d be glad to be able to help you.” “I c-can’t. I h-have to—” “And what if you throw your guts up in the library this time?” Karik stared up at him in despair. “You d-don’t understand.” “I’m trying to. I’m trying to help, I just don’t know the best thing to do or say.” He looked almost desperate. “Why don’t I ask Soza if there are books you could borrow, or notes, just for today and tomorrow? Is there anything you have to do, or is it more that you want to use the opportunity? I mean, that you have to do, not him.” Karik wanted to deal with this himself, but then he thought about the image Romi had evoked, of him losing his nerve while talking to one of the Andonese scholars, and he quailed. “I sh-should go over his n-notes before we l-leave.” “Then let me borrow them for you, and they can be brought back tomorrow. You’ve got hours of daylight and don’t tell me he doesn’t have other things to amuse himself with.” Karik found himself swayed more by the pleading tone than the words, and though it was weak, he was weak too. He slumped in defeat. “He wuh-won’t like it.” “He’ll get over it, and once you’re back in Darshian, all this will be so much less painful. We just have to get past the next week or months—the next few days. You know what it’s like to have a serious injury—you know it takes time.” Karik started. “Wuh-what?” How did he know about that? “Your, um, scar. Soldiers notice that kind of thing,” Romi said apologetically, gesturing towards his own stomach. “Must have taken some healing.” Karik nodded—the explanation was simple once he realised. He tended to forget the scar was there—it was such a long time ago. “Don’t punish yourself for things that aren’t your fault. You can rely on me to point out things that are.” Karik gave him a dirty look for that, but Romi just grinned. “There’s a seat over there. I’ll speak to Soza and explain, and then we can get back to the barracks.” Karik wished this was all unnecessary, but there was no arguing that he really couldn’t achieve much the way he was unless he accepted Romi’s help, so he agreed, taking a seat on the wall bench. He closed his eyes against the warm sun and wished this nightmare could be over.
~~~~~~~~
Romi shook his head as he walked back into the academy. Pissing Soza—if he’d set out to upset Karik, he couldn’t have done a better job, and yet Romi would have bet that with a little more sensitive handling, Karik would have managed all right. The man didn’t want for courage, though he was definitely deficient in the taste department. Until the day he died, Romi was sure he would never know what an intelligent person could see in Soza. He plastered his most polite and diplomatic smile on his face as he walked back into the library. He needn’t have bothered—Soza was on the warpath. “Where is he? What have you done to him?” Romi just gave the stupid man the look he deserved. “Not what I did, you damn fool. What do you mean hauling him around in that fashion when he’s only days out of the infirmary? Have you no sense at all?” Soza drew himself up to his full, not very impressive height. “Are you presuming to tell me how I should or should not behave around my friend, lieutenant?” “Call me captain, Soza. You’re not insulting me, you’re insulting the man who gave me the rank, and I’m sure Lord Arman would love to know that.” “Lord Arman would never have promoted you if he’d known how scandalously you were going to behave.” Though they had kept their voices low and were speaking in Darshianese, they were drawing curious and annoyed looks from the Andonese researchers. “Let’s take this outside,” Romi said, keeping a close eye to make sure Soza didn’t attempt to rush off to find Karik. He was wise to do so, because the moment they left the library, Soza turned on him. “What have you done with him? I wish to speak to him this instant.” “Too bad,” Romi said with all the concern of a man deeply uninterested in Soza’s happiness. “Karik’s feeling unwell, so I’ve come to collect any notes you want him to look over, and any books he might need. He can read them at the barracks.” “Impossible! I can’t hand those over, and certainly I can’t ask the people here to lend books to someone like you.” Romi shrugged. “Oh well, then I’ll explain that to Karik.” “I’ll explain it myself. Where is he, the garden...?” Romi planted a firm hand in the middle of Soza’s skinny chest to stop him moving. “No. I told you, he’s unwell. You already upset him, and you’re not doing that again.” “How dare you! Karik’s mine!” “Karik’s his own, Soza. I don’t believe in people belonging to others. Anyway, you don’t seem very concerned about him.” “I would be if you let me near him, you pitiful excuse for an officer.”
“That’s too bad too,” Romi said. “You’re not going near him today, and you’re not going to be alone with him until we leave. Lover or no lover, you’ll just hurt him and for the good of the team, I can’t allow that.” Soza’s eyes narrowed. “Are you sure you’re not paying a little too much attention to Karik? One would think you have a personal interest in keeping us apart. I wonder if he knows about that.” Romi shook his head with disgust. “Think what you like and say what you like—you’ve already fed him so many lies about me, more won’t make a damn bit of difference. My interest in Karik rests in the fact he’s a member of my team—a well-liked and very valuable member too. You, well— someone’s already asked my permission to tip you into a ravine, so I’d watch my step if I were you. If it comes to choosing whose welfare is more important to the success of this expedition, there’s no damn choice.” “How dare you threaten my life! I’ll report you—I’ll have Lep Wepizi arrest you for saying such a thing!” “You’re welcome to try. Now are you going to give me those notes or not?” Soza folded his arms. “Over my dead body.” “Suits me. If you decide to grace us with your presence over the next few days, I might bother to tell you when we’re departing. Keep away from Karik until we do and that’s a direct order. Disobey, and you’ll be on a boat back to Tsikiugui faster than you can blink.” “You exceed your authority, lieutenant. Mark my words, people will hear about this.” “I look forward to it. Now run along,” he said, making a shooing gesture which he knew perfectly well would infuriate the man, and relishing the squawk of fury he got. He wasn’t foolish enough to turn his back on Soza—he really didn’t trust him to have the brains to follow his order—and waited until Soza flounced back into the library. Karik still had his eyes closed when Romi approached, deliberately noisily to give a warning, but he still started a little. He frowned at Romi’s empty hands. “Wuh-where’s the n-notes?” “Ah, he said he’s still working on them and that there’s nothing pressing he needs you to look over.” “You’re l-lying. He’s ah-angry.” “Well, a little—he wanted to come and see you, and I wouldn’t let him.” Karik sat up straight. “You were r-rude?” “Yes, I was,” Romi admitted. “But so was he.” “Wuh-why do you b-bait him?” “There’s no way I can answer that question without making you angry. You told me you didn’t like people insulting your friends.” Karik shot him a hard look. “Y-You both sh-should grow up.”
Romi was surprised that Soza was included in that statement, but didn’t care to be lumped in with him. “It’s not me who can’t remember the ranks of the soldiers I’m working with,” he pointed out, but kept his tone mild. “Soza’s never shown me an ounce of civility, and if I wanted to endure that kind of abuse from people I don’t like, I’d get a post in the Utuk embassy. I’m prepared to go to a lot of trouble for my people, but putting up with that kind of thing isn’t my job.” Karik looked at the ground, his cheeks pinking up. “Do we have to argue about this again?” He was so tired of the conflict Soza was causing in his team, and with this man who he could learn to like well enough, if it weren’t for his pissing lover. “I wuh-won’t let you c-criticise him to me.” “I understand. At the same time, you have to accept that he makes my job difficult, and sometimes I have to make decisions based on the fact that he does do that. I won’t lie to you just to make you happy. But I promise that unless it’s to do with the team or the mission, I won’t talk about it.” Karik nodded. “All r-right.” “Do you feel up to walking back? I’m in no hurry.” But Karik was already getting to his feet, though he still looked a little pale. Romi fell into step beside him, and made sure they moved quickly through the crowds on the way back to the barracks, unobtrusively keeping an eye out for anyone doing anything which might startle Karik. He might have to rethink the way they approached a settlement if Karik continued to be this skittish—it wasn’t unusual for tribal people to grab and tug at him, though only out of harmless curiosity. He didn’t miss the look of relief on Karik’s face once they got past the guard post, and that strengthened his determination that Karik and Soza’s status had to change. “Do you have a minute?” he asked, as Karik seemed to be heading straight back to the library. “Wuh-what?” “Something Soza said made it clear that we can’t go on as we have.” Karik looked puzzled, but waited for him to explain. Romi thought there was no point in dancing around the subject. “I’ve made a bad mistake in keeping you civilians separate. It’s caused trouble on the team and contributed to you getting hurt, and it’s got to stop. From now on, I don’t want to distinguish between you and my soldiers, not in the orders I make, the duties you undertake, or the protection I offer you,” he added, hoping Karik would understand this wasn’t just a one-way thing. “I expect him to fight me on this, but I’m asking for your support. You two can say what you want about me when you get home, but right now, I just want us all to get home, and the only way to do that is to be one team, one unit, with one leader. That’s me, whatever you think of me. A cart can’t have two drivers and you can’t drive a cart when your beasts are pulling in two directions either.” Karik took his time considering his words. Romi didn’t push. Soza’s agreement would only come if Karik’s did—Romi had to hope his estimate of Karik’s intelligence was correct. Finally, Karik turned a not terribly friendly face towards him. “V-very well.”
“And you accept that this means not disobeying my orders, and not arguing with them once I say the decision is final? That you keep your complaints to yourself and for your report?” “Y-Yes. But Soza w-won’t agree.” “I know. But if everyone but him accepts it—if you do—I think we can bring him into line. I don’t ask this lightly, and I don’t mean to use your situation to put pressure on you. I’ll do everything I can to justify your agreeing to this.” “You b-better.” “I know. Thank you. I won’t abuse your trust.” That got him the most baleful of looks. “I don’t tr-trust you. I a-accept the n-necessity. Th-that’s all.” “Then I still thank you, and perhaps one day you’ll judge me worthy of your confidence.” “Doubt it,” Karik snapped and walked off. Romi sighed, regretting he’d won the agreement at the price of upsetting the man. Damn that Soza—he’d done so much harm to the team. Sibu’s suggestion was looking better and better with each passing hour.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Staying Power: 22 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Knowing they were shortly to leave the safety of the barracks, and humiliated by his failure at the academy, Karik forced himself to act as normally as he could. He consciously spent time with the other soldiers, and used conversations with them to surreptitiously practice the exercises he’d used years before to overcome his stammer, to achieve the same result again. Within two days, he’d got back most of his control, and it was only if he was tired, or startled, that it became very bad. It was still easy to startle him—too easy, though his teammates were as considerate as they could be, given they didn’t know the whole story. He decided the only way was to get back in the saddle as fast as he could. He made himself go back to the steam room, despite Netu and Romi’s looks of concern, and concentrated on Wepizi’s humorous stories to distract him from so many people being so close to him, and from his irrational thoughts that they could tell he’d been raped just by looking at him. It was easier than he feared it might be, but he still shook like a leaf when he got back to the sleeping quarters, and had to sit on the verandah to calm down. After a few minutes, Netu joined him, sitting down companionably next to him. “Well done, Karik,” he said quietly. “I didn’t think you’d do that before we left.” “Everyone thinks I’m p-pathetic.” “Really? I don’t know anyone who does. How are you feeling? Any side effects from the gerot? Such an evil drug. Dangerous.” Karik shrugged. “Lots of drugs are d-dangerous. Nitre weed is, but we need it. M-Maybe gerot has another use.” “Maybe, but I don’t like it. It’s like nerf leaf—too easy to abuse, too hard to control access to. The difference between safe and fatal dosage is very small, Vyoti tells me. Ah...are you healed completely now?” Never had so many well-meaning questions been asked about his bottom. “Yes, I’m fine.” “Good, good—I wasn’t looking forward to having to deal with another backside—Reisa’s is enough.” Karik grinned, the earthy medical humour reminding him of his Ma and helping to fend off the last of the shakes. He was very lucky to have Netu on the team, and to have his personal interest in his welfare. Something else to thank lieutenant ar.... No, he didn’t really think of Romi that way any more, even though he could still be an arse. Captain arse, maybe. They spoke briefly about the medical supplies they were taking with them, then Netu stood. “I better go back in. I want to catch all the sleep I can before we start keeping watch again.” He laid a
hand on Karik’s shoulder, carefully so not to startle him. “I really don’t think anyone could see you as pathetic. You’re doing well.” “Thanks, Netu. Good night.” He waved the healer off, but he wasn’t ready to go back in himself. He wanted a little time to think about things. As always, his thoughts led to the same place, wondering if he could remember the attack, whether he would be reacting to things so strongly. He’d been talking to Wepizi about it that afternoon, and Wepizi thought it might be possible. But he’d also thought that somewhere in Karik’s mind, he did remember, which was making him react the way he was. Wepizi meant well, but his comments had reawoken the gnawing on Karik’s consciousness that he had been fighting down. For days he’d obsessed about not being able to remember and trying to force himself to recall—and just when he’d decided he really wasn’t even going to, Wepizi made him think that if he just tried hard enough, he would. He leaned against the post, wishing he had someone familiar to talk to—Kei, Arman, his parents...Gyo or even Misek. Now, Misek was good at laying things out in a sensible way. He’d come close to being killed in a kiln explosion when he was twenty-one—the same explosion which had killed his uncle, Banji’s Pa. He said it had made him realise that no one lives forever and that you had to enjoy life to the full while you had it. Karik could hear him now, saying that worrying about something Karik couldn’t help was just using energy he could use for something more enjoyable. Misek was one of the most contented and wise people Karik knew. He missed him—he missed them all so much. He heard a throat being cleared, and turned sharply. It was only Romi, learning on the doorpost. “Ah, didn’t mean to startle you. I just wanted some fresh air—didn’t realise you were out here. Do you mind?” “Go ahead.” Romi sat down next to him. He was chewing on a tooth stick, and looked relaxed. “So, ready to move out?” “As much as I c-can be.” “Good. Jou was asking me about the watch rota—she heard I was putting the two of you on it, and she asked if she could share the watch with you.” “Jou? Why?” “She said she wanted to pick your brains, and besides she likes you. I would have agreed immediately, only...I thought you might prefer to do the watch with Soza.” “If you’re t-trying to bring us into the team, then why keep us together all the time?” Romi frowned, but then to Karik’s surprise, his expression cleared. “You know, that was my own argument but I was sure you’d object. But you have to back me up when I tell him.” “You f-fight your own battles, captain. I h-handed over the job of wrangling Soza when I agreed to this.”
That made Romi laugh ruefully. “Fair enough, you got me there. Just warning you about the arguments, that’s all.” “Very well. G-Good night.” Karik sighed as he went back inside. He really wasn’t looking forward to the next few days.
~~~~~~~~ The second part of the expedition started off auspiciously—the weather was fine, everyone was in a good temper and the beasts were eager to set out on the trail again, pawing at the ground and roaring with excessive spirits. They had all assembled at dawn—Soza appeared on time as requested by Wepizi, and though he was slightly cool to Karik, he was polite enough to everyone. Romi, thankfully, kept his distance, and let Wepizi introduce Kizinke to Soza. Karik had met the guide the day before, and hadn’t been as immediately impressed by him as he had been by Feive and Gizwei, though his credentials were excellent, and most importantly—at least to Soza—spoke passable Darshianese. Kizinke had heard of Soza, it seemed. “My brother, at court, has read your monograph on the resinous timbers of the lowlands,” he said with a slight bow. “He tells me it was most useful in planning the construction of a new outpost.” “My word, how flattering,” Soza said, puffing his chest out with pride. “Of course, I write for the more intelligent audience, and often my work is unappreciated by the uneducated. Your brother is clearly a man of some wit.” Karik rolled his eyes at the unsubtle dig at the team, and the equally unsubtle flattery. Romi was just as unimpressed. “Well, friend Soza, if you find us so unworthy, how about you ride up with Kizinke today. I’m sure he wants to hear all your opinions in great detail.” There was an unseemly titter from Sibu and Jou which made Soza scowl. “Right, everyone, mount up. Move out.” Karik found it something of a relief that Soza had so instantly hit it off with Kizinke—the first sight of his friend that morning had made his gut clench strangely, and since he could hardly have excused himself without causing offence, he was glad Romi had taken the choice away from them both. Soza was so quick to see slights these days, and Karik really didn’t feel strong enough for a quarrel. The first day was quiet—there was little vegetation to be seen on the bare rocks, though just the views of the enormous peaks, and the volcano to the northeast, belching steam and ash continuously, were enough to make the journey worthwhile, and certainly distracted Karik from any gloomy thoughts. They climbed until noon, then began to descend through sparse forest. Sparse because it had long been exploited, but Kizinke assured them they would see near-virgin woods within days. “And then we will need to beware of tewis,” he announced. Though they had all been drilled on the correct way of dealing with the large and ferocious carnivores—which was to say, they would not deal with them and do everything they could to make sure tewis stayed well away from them and the camp—Karik felt a disobedient urge to seek one out.
He’d only seen tewis in captivity—either fat, lazy cage-bred animals, or neurotic youngsters, torn from their dead mothers. He had always wanted to see a truly wild one, but he acknowledged it might easily be the last thing he did. They were rare in these parts, Kizinke said—more common the further north they went, both because of fewer people hunting them and because they preferred the deep snow forests of the north. There would be other large animals to see, Karik had been promised, though thankfully these were mostly herbivores. Doigs were rare except in the settlements, and in the mountains, were replaced by hiqwiqs, a relative of the jombeker, a creature with long, fierce horns and a shaggy pelt much prized for its wool. Already they had seen a couple, picking their way along what seemed impossible ledges high above them. He hadn’t spoken to Soza much that day—Soza had stayed with Kizinke near the front of the group, while Karik had taken up the rear, riding alongside Netu and talking to him about the studies he was now very keen to undertake at the academy. Netu reminded Karik of his beloved uncle Kei, and his empathic, non-judgmental view on life had a way of helping Karik sort things out and see them more clearly. He wavered between thinking the man was wasted in the army, and knowing that with the difficult tasks the army carried out, someone like Netu brought a necessary humanity to the job. He knew his own prejudices about the military influenced his opinion on the matter, though those prejudices were challenged and weakened by the day. He’d had such a blessedly calm and enjoyable day, talking to Netu, just relishing the freedom of being out of the city, that he’d quite forgotten about the new status the civilians had in the group until they made camp near an overhanging rock, an hour and a half before sunset. As was his habit, Karik pitched in with the tent raising. Being distracted by that, he paid no attention to what Soza was doing, until he heard an angry voice being raised. “What do you mean, ‘help with the camp making’, lieutenant?” He turned and saw Soza glaring furiously at Romi, whose reply was inaudible. Karik glanced at Netu, who shrugged. “You better go and help sort that out,” he said. Karik sighed. “Yes, I know.” It was all very well to say it was Romi’s problem but Soza would make it Karik’s any moment now, so he might as well try and choke off as much unpleasantness as he could. He couldn’t muster much enthusiasm for the task, that was all. He walked over to hear Romi, quite politely—at least for Romi—explain that from now on the civilians would share duties like everyone else, but that the soldiers would continue to carry out the bulk of the routine chores. Soza folded his arms. “I am not on this expedition to collect firewood or raise tents, lieutenant, and neither is Karik.” He noticed Karik nearby. “Have you heard about this nonsense? The lieutenant is once again displaying his manifest unfitness for his job.” Maybe it was because Soza still stirred strange emotions in him, maybe it was because the man’s voice reverberated across the valley in a way that polluted the beauty that surrounded them, or maybe it was because Karik had actually no sympathy at all with his position—whatever the reason, he simply lost any desire to answer in a diplomatic manner. “R-Romi is a captain, Soza, and will be until he’s stood down at the end of this expedition, so s-stop calling him lieutenant. As f-for collecting firewood
or raising a tent, my Ma always said a man too good to help prepare a meal is too good to eat it. If you won’t help r-raise the tent, then sleep outside. And if you don’t like the way the expedition has been organised, get on your beast and r-ride back.” Soza gaped at him. While he was still speechless with shock, Karik decided to beat a retreat, feeling rather like a man who had set fire to his house before he’d built the new one. He realised he’d unconsciously adopted the exact tone of voice Arman did when dressing down an incompetent workman, and grinned as he thought what his uncle would have thought of such a display. There, Romi, he thought. I’ve done my bit. Now you handle the rest of it.
~~~~~~~~ Romi blinked. Blessed gods, he hadn’t expected that—and, clearly, neither had Soza. With twin expressions of astonishment, they watched Karik stalk off back to where the tent was being raised. Soza wasn’t quelled for long, of course, but before he could open his mouth to complain, Romi turned to him. “Couldn’t have said it better myself. Now, since the tent is nearly up, I’d like you to chop up some firewood. You’ll also be taking the final watch with Kizinke—it’s the easiest shift since you’ll get a full night’s sleep before. I’ve made allowances for your lack of experience,” he added as neutrally as he could. “Now, wait a damn minute! You never said anything about a watch! And why aren’t I sharing it with Karik?” Romi glanced over to the tent and tried not to laugh at the sight of Netu and Taz patting Karik on the shoulder in obvious congratulation. “One, because Karik is doing the midnight watch with Jou, and two, because he doesn’t seem too happy with you right now. Kizinke’s the only person I think won’t kill you if forced to spend an hour alone with you.” “You insuff—” “It’s either Kizinke or me, Soza. Now shift your arse and go and cut up the firewood. If you don’t know how to use an axe, I’m sure Sibu will be glad to show you. After all, if a woman can do it, surely you can.” Soza drew a deep breath, ready to spew out more bile, but Romi fixed him with what he thought of as his “Don’t piss me off, soldier” look—or what Jou called his “Gods, keep clear of Romi” expression —and said, “This is not a debate, Soza. You have just received a direct order. Now, you have two choices—do it, or as Karik said, get on your beast and get out of this camp now. I’m perfectly prepared to assist you to leave.” Soza stiffened. “You wouldn’t dare.” “Try me. Please try me. I’d enjoy doing that, I really would.” Gods, the man was the slowest study Romi had ever encountered but finally the reality of the situation penetrated even his solid iron skull, and he turned on his heel and walked over to where Sibu
and Taz were building a fire. Romi felt bad about inflicting Soza on them, but not about finally getting the pompous arse to accept his authority, however bad-temperedly. “You needn’t look quite so pleased with yourself, my friend.” Romi turned and grinned at Wepizi. “Oh, and you’re heart-broken, I’m sure.” “It depends. Why have you split Soza up from Karik on the watch?” “Because Jou asked to share shift with Karik, Karik agreed, and Soza makes Karik look like a frightened hisk.” Wepizi frowned. “Walk with me, please.” There was no arguing with Wepizi’s quiet authority, and Romi obeyed, walking back a little along the trail to where there was a long low boulder which made a convenient seat out of earshot of the others. “What are you doing, Romi?” “Doing? My job, Wepizi. I need to bring that bastard into line or he’s going to get us killed.” “As far as that goes, I wholeheartedly agree with you. But you seem a little too interested in separating Soza from our beautiful man, and I want to know why.” Romi blew out his cheeks in exasperation. “I told you what happened at the academy the other day. If you think I set Karik up to tick Soza off, you’re wrong. I was as surprised as he was.” Wepizi was still frowning at him. “I’m not talking about that, my friend. You seem to relish the discord between them, and that is not virtuous. It is not honest or kind to drive a wedge between lovers, and offends Sephiz most profoundly.” “You were the one who said they weren’t in love!” “So I did. But it’s not for me to determine whether their relationship should succeed or fail, and nor is it yours. So I repeat my question—what are you doing? And I add another—why are you doing it? You suspected me of allowing my heart to become involved—have you fallen into that trap yourself?” “Oh, you’re joking. You have to be. Which one of those prickly bastards am I supposed to be in love with?” Wepizi looked down his long nose. “The prickly bastard you seem to watch all the time, whose company you frequently seek, and whose lover you constantly deride and belittle.” “Karik? Gods, Wepizi, the man hates me. He only speaks to me on sufferance, and makes no effort to hide the fact either.” “Yes, maybe so. But still you persist.” “You’re being a pain in the arse, you know that? Karik was hurt, it was my fault. It’s my job to make sure he recovers, and can do his job. That’s all.” “Hmmm. Then if you say so, I will believe you, my friend, because you are a trustworthy man. But I tell you this—a house built on rotting stumps will fall, and so will a relationship built on deceit.
Behave with honour in this manner and I will have no complaints. But if I see you meddling for less than honourable reasons, I will complain. Do you understand?” “Yes, I understand,” Romi said impatiently, “but you’re misreading this situation entirely.” “So I would hope.” Wepizi looked at him sternly for a little longer, then nodded, as if satisfied. “Do you think Soza will subside now?” “Who knows? I’ve primed my people not to put up with any shit, but not to poke him either, and since Karik supported my decision, provided I’m fair in my requests, Soza will look like a fool if he keeps complaining. I suspect Karik’s opinion will be the thing that sways it. He won’t want to offend Karik’s uncles, after all, even if he doesn’t give a damn about Karik—the more I see, the more I think that’s the case.” “Romi—” “Well, it’s true, damn it!” “Then it’s a matter between them, my friend.” Wepizi clapped his hand on Romi’s shoulder. “You dislike unfairness and injustice, I know that. But relationships are very often not subject to logic.” “Sometimes they are,” he answered bitterly, thinking of the way Daiso had set him aside purely so he could take up with a fertile woman. “All right. I’ll ignore all that unless he stops Karik doing his job, or abuses him in front of me. I won’t stand for that, not for any of my team.” “And that is only just,” Wepizi said, sliding off the boulder and standing up. “Come then, and let’s put good intentions into action.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Staying Power: 23 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Several times during the days and weeks that followed that odd little conversation, Romi could have cheerfully wrung Wepizi’s neck for disturbing his peace of mind. Before, he hadn’t given the slightest damn what Karik thought about him, and so had just conversed with him naturally, ignoring the rudeness and occasional insult because Karik was in fact good at what he did and was otherwise the model team member. Now, Romi was self-conscious, wondering if he did seem to be showing a less than professional interest in Karik’s welfare. Where once he would casually ask how Karik was doing if he passed him at breakfast, or happened to find himself sitting next to the man at supper, now he was almost tongue-tied, and quickly found an excuse to be somewhere else. Romi had to wonder if Wepizi had set the entire thing up as a joke—he certainly saw his friend giving him some odd grins from time to time. Yes, strangling was too good for the bastard. Karik himself seemed not to mind. He and Soza had apparently patched things up, though Romi couldn’t fail to notice Karik wasn’t exactly eager to seek Soza out. Whatever Wepizi thought on the subject, their romantic involvement seemed to be fast disintegrating, while Soza himself had become fast friends with Kizinke. Kizinke’s father was a tribal elder of a large settlement far to the north, and his brother was an official in the Visiqe court, his sister being married to a member of the council. It was unlikely these facts had no bearing on Soza’s enthusiasm for Kizinke’s company. The cynic in Romi couldn’t help but wonder if Soza planned to replace Karik, now that Karik had made his disapproval of his actions so clear. He really didn’t care. After that single confrontation, Soza had undergone a remarkable change in his attitude, and while he was hardly the most hard-working member of the team, he now followed directions—grudgingly, it was true, but there was usually no need to repeat the request. Of course Soza made it perfectly clear that he considered such menial tasks beneath him, but with Karik and Kizinke both pitching in, he’d obviously worked out that holding forth on the subject wasn’t likely to impress the people he wanted to impress. Romi didn’t care what the thought processes were behind his obedience—the fact of the obedience was enough. The rumblings of discontent among the rest of the team dropped away, and after Jou and Sibu had both made it clear they would not tolerate any more of Soza’s misogyny, he had stopped making cutting comments about them in their hearing. This too, led to a more pleasant atmosphere. It had been a good decision, Romi felt, and only cursed himself that he hadn’t pressed the issue on the first leg of the journey. Now things were running more smoothly, he could start to enjoy the expedition’s main purpose, which was not, strangely, to see who would win the battle of egos between himself and Soza. During the day, Wepizi usually went with either Soza or Karik’s group, while Romi went with the geologists
since he had a little more experience in that line than the rest of the team. As they worked together, Pali explained the forces that had produced the rocks they were examining, or pointed out the remains of lava flows and eruptions, glaciers and seismic upheaval. Darshian was an old, stable land compared with this, where every feature of the landscape could disappear in minutes if there was an earthquake or volcanic eruption. Pali didn’t seem too worried about the prospect. They’d all got used to the tremors every few days—alarming at first, and then something to be ignored—but Pali said there hadn’t been a catastrophic eruption in more than a century, and when there had been, there had been plenty of warning. Earthquakes were less predictable, but unlikely in the areas they were travelling in just now. Romi had to take the scientist’s word for it, and try not to lose too much sleep over the prospect of being swallowed up by the earth. They’d had a good day, he and the rock hounds. Not only had they found some very interesting and potentially valuable samples, there had been time to enjoy the natural spectacles—magnificent raptors fighting high in the air, using their huge talons and seven foot wing spans to try to drag their opponent to their death, while the more earth-bound hiqwiqs tussled for supremacy on apparently sheer rock faces. A lone, well-muscled male hiqwiq had fallen to his arrow, and Romi looked forward to the several tasty meals the meat would make. Arriving back at camp, he handed over the hiqwiq carcass to Kepi and Reisa to butcher, and then wandered over to see what the rest of his team were doing. Everyone was back from their day’s work, and as usual, the naturalists were working hard to catalogue what had been brought in. Jou was sitting at Karik’s feet, watching him sketch, listening to him describe the specimen as he worked. It was something Romi never got tired of observing, the way Karik could elegantly yet simply explain the parts of a plant and the uses for its seeds or sap or leaves, his slender fingers holding the specimen delicately in one hand as he swiftly sketched in the other. Normally Romi watched from a distance, knowing he wasn’t as welcome as other members of his team, but this evening a flash of surprising shade of blue in Karik’s hand caught his attention. He walked over without thinking and knelt down. “My mother had a pendant with this flower on it.” He was vaguely aware that Jou got up to make room, but he only had eyes for the beautiful colour. Karik was obviously startled at his sudden appearance, but recovered quickly. “Are you sure, Romi? This flower is only found in north Andon.” “I couldn’t swear it was identical, but this blue—I’ve never seen its like, though she said it was painted from real life by her uncle.” He took the little flower from Karik’s hand. Yes, it was this very colour, and this shape. It reminded him sharply of the last time he’d seen the pendant—and her—over a year before. Karik reached out and gently extracted the flower from Romi’s fingers. “I think then it must have been the klave pea. Near Ai-Vinri, I recall you said your family live? The klave pea isn’t common near the villages but I have seen it in that area, especially when it rains after a dry spell. It’s a vigorous, short-lived plant, unrelated to this, which is a tuberous perennial. They are slightly similar, I grant you, but not really alike.”
“But the colour...it’s so beautiful....” He touched the petals wistfully. Strange how he could recall every detail so clearly, yet he never consciously thought of the ornament. Someone cleared their throat, and he turned to see Wepizi giving him an odd look. Then he realised he was sitting rather close to Karik, kneeling in front of him like some lovesick swain, and Jou was watching him with an amused expression. He pulled his hand away hastily and got to his feet. “I beg your pardon,” he said stiffly, and walked away. When he risked a quick glance back, Karik was staring after him with a scowl. Wonderful—he’d just caused more offence than if he’d stayed where he’d been. Damn Wepizi anyway.
~~~~~~~~ Damn that Romi! Karik felt his fingers clenching around the stem of the flower and made himself relax. “Are you all right, Karik?” He looked up at her. “I’m fine, Jou. Do you know where Soza is?” She gestured vaguely. “Over there, with Kizinke. Those two are thick as thieves as usual. Have you got lots to do tonight?” “Hmmm, yes. I want to finish these before the light goes, but I should help with supper.” “Don’t be silly,” she said firmly. “I’ll even bring your food over, if you like.” He smiled in gratitude. “Thanks. There’s just so much to do.” “Have you finished this yet?” She looked down at what he was drawing. “You’re so talented, I’m jealous.” “Oh, I’m just an amateur. My friend Meda in Darshek is the real master. She could make you think the flower was growing out of the paper,” he said, pointing to the picture. “Even with just a pencil.” “Meda? Is she your girlfriend?” Karik flushed. “No, she has a lover of her own, and besides, she’s Ma’s age. She’s one of the Gifted—a water-shaper. Her lover’s a mind-mover.” “You’re friends with the Gifted? You really are special, aren’t you?” “Not me. They are, for sure. I miss my friends.” She sighed heartily. “I miss Seiz. I told him I’d cut his balls off if he went off with another woman while I was gone, but you can’t really stop it happening. Ask Romi. He went off on a three-week field exercise, came back and found his lover was planning to marry someone else, the rotten bastard.” “Really?”
“Uh huh. Got a girl pregnant and dumped Romi just like that to marry her,” she said in disgust, snapping her fingers. “Just like Kepi’s wife running around while he was in Kuprij and catching a baby from another man. You can’t trust anyone these days.” “I’m sure that’s not true. My parents have been faithful for over twenty years, so have my uncles. And I know more couples like that than the other kind. I just don’t understand why people look around if they’re really in love.” “Maybe that’s the answer,” she said gloomily. “Kepi and Romi both loved their partners, but they didn’t love them back—not enough anyway. Seiz says he loves me—I guess I’ll find out when I get home, won’t I?” He murmured something anodyne, not really sure what to say, while being rather fascinated to learn what was behind some of Romi’s bad temper. Being dumped for a fertile lover was bad enough— being abandoned for a pregnant one just rubbed salt into the wounds. His Pa had had that happen, so had Kei. So had his Ma, come to think of it. No wonder so many of the gifted were rather jaundiced about lifelong relationships, when the non-gifted could be so heartless. Karik almost felt a twinge of sympathy for Romi but stepped on it ruthlessly. He already spent too much time thinking about that damn man and his reactions. Plants were much less troublesome, and he had work to do.
~~~~~~~~ Romi made sure to keep away from Karik after that unfortunate incident, and though his standoffishness offended the other man, better that, he thought, than to be accused of abusing his pastoral role. Anyway, Karik was much improved, interacting normally with the team, and not noticeably nervous around anyone. He and Soza were now clearly no longer a couple, which didn’t exactly sadden Romi, but Karik didn’t seem cast down either. Whether Kizinke was Soza’s friend or something more, Romi didn’t know nor care, but since Soza was behaving himself, he wasn’t going to comment. It was hard to comprehend the scale of a country like Andon, until one realised they had travelled for five weeks without seeing even the hint of human habitation. There were certainly settlements to be found, and the plan was to contact as many as they could, especially after the fruitful interactions in the low country. But it wasn’t until the start of summer that they expected to finally encounter the mountain tribes, a very different and much fiercer group of people than their lowland counterparts. As in the low country, the tribal people detected them long before their team detected them, and as they prepared to break camp one morning, three hunters came upon them, silent and stern, large knives worn conspicuously at their belts. Wepizi rose to welcome them. “Greetings, my friends. We were hoping to meet with your clan.” One of them sniffed, and growled something, clearly directing it to Kizinke just behind Wepizi. Wepizi waved the guide forward, and there followed a rapid exchange of which Romi understood not a
single word. Neither, from his expression, did Wepizi, though he’d said he had a slight acquaintance with the language. At last, Kizinke turned to Romi with an apologetic look. “They won’t have the soldiers, I am sorry.” “Just the Darshianese, or Wepizi, too?” “None of you, I am sorry, captain.” Romi frowned. “Could you ask them again, please?” Kizinke obeyed, but it was clear from the obdurate expressions that he had not succeeded. He shrugged. “I am sorry. They will not allow it.” Romi turned to Wepizi. “What should we do?” He glanced at Karik, who, as yet, was too far away to hear what was going on. “I can’t send him alone,” he added in a low voice. Wepizi tugged on his moustache. “Dare we risk Kizinke and Soza as well?” Romi considered. Soza had moderated his behaviour quite considerably, and it seemed Kizinke was a good influence on him. But Karik.... “Let me ask.” He turned his beast around and rode back to where Karik was waiting. “We have a problem,” he said, keeping his expression cheerful, since Soza was watching. “They won’t let us bring any soldiers in, not even Wepizi. That would leave you, Soza and Kizinke as the only ones who could go in. How do you feel about that?” “Are you concerned on my account or his?” “Both, but I don’t know how you feel about not having one of us with you.” Karik stiffened. “I’m fine.” Romi looked at him in exasperation. “Yes, I know. But are you up to this?” “Yes. Are we going in or not?” Stubborn little brat. “Yes, all right. But you come out as soon as you can, and no one is to stay overnight. Is that understood?” “Of course.” Soza was repulsively smug as Romi delivered the news. “I’m sure this will be a very successful visit, captain.” “If it’s not, I’ll know who to blame, Soza. Go in, do what you have to, don’t get up anyone’s nose, and come out before dark. That’s an order.” “Of course, captain,” he said in mock obsequiousness. Soza was a waste of time, so he made sure Kizinke was also clear about the orders. Then he had little choice but to watch the civilians ride off with the three hunters, and wished he had more confidence that things would be all right. He couldn’t relax at all, and by noon had given up all pretence that he wasn’t impatient for their return. Netu and Jou weren’t exactly concentrating on their tasks either, and while Wepizi was his usual serene self, once or twice Romi noticed him sending worried looks in the direction of the settlement.
The riders were spotted mid-afternoon, far earlier than Romi was expecting. Soza and Kizinke were leading, frowns on their faces, but it wasn’t them Romi was worried about. Karik was trailing behind them, sitting bolt upright in the saddle, his blank expression indicating something was badly amiss. Jou ran up to him to take his reins, but as soon as he dismounted, Karik said something to her which made her step back a little, and then he stalked off along the shoreline of the small lake near the camp, leaving the beast with her and ignoring her calls. Pissing hells, Romi thought angrily, and went after the man, actually having to run to catch up with him. He found him standing at the far end of the lake, his fist clenched and his head thrown back, just as he had been the night he had fallen apart in the barracks. But this time, he turned to glare at Romi, colour high in his cheeks and his eyes stormy. “C-come to g-gloat, c-captain?” The stutter was back—not a good sign. “Not at all. Do you want to tell me what happened?” “N-nothing. You wuh-were r-right, I wuh-was w-wrong. E-end of story.” He walked away again, but only to fling himself down on a fallen log a little distance away. “I’m fuh-fine,” he snapped. “Lleave me a-alone.” “I can’t,” Romi said as gently as he could, approached carefully, and then sat down cross-legged on the gravel near him. “You’re clearly not fine, and besides, you know we have a rule about no one leaving camp on their own. No exceptions—it’s too dangerous.” Karik didn’t answer, and didn’t look at him. Instead he stared out over the water, his hands clenched as they rested on his thighs. Romi waited patiently, knowing how painful it must be to appear so weak in front of someone he despised. He wished he’d sent Wepizi after Karik now, but the man had run off so fast, Romi hadn’t thought. He certainly wouldn’t walk off from him now, and he would wait as long as it took. Eventually, Karik rubbed his eyes and stood. “I sh-should go b-back.” “Please—I need to know what went wrong. If it’s something we can do or not do, I need to know that.” Karik shot him a hard look, but then sat down again. “It wuh-was n-nothing. I...I g-got s-startled wuh-when s-someone g-grabbed me. K-Kizinke m-must have t-told them wuh-why.” “And?” Karik’s jaw worked for a few moments. “A-and...th-the h-headman a-asked wuh-why I h-hadn’t ffought back l-like a m-man. The wuh-women l-laughed.” Gods. Romi guessed there had been more to it than that, but even that bare description was bad enough. “I’m sorry—I’ll speak to Kizinke.” “B-because I’m s-so wuh-weak and p-pathetic.” “No, Karik, because what he did was wrong, and violated your privacy. As it happens, I don’t think you’re pathetic or weak, but even if I did, he was out of line.”
But his answer was of little comfort to Karik, which didn’t surprise him. He could imagine how humiliating that situation had to have been, and couldn’t believe Kizinke had been so insensitive. “I shshould h-have fuh-fought back.” “Don’t be ridiculous.” Karik’s head snapped up. “It’s almost certain you didn’t even realise there was a situation to fight against until you were drugged. Gerot paralyses the muscles. Anyone—me, Wepizi, even your Pa who’s damn strong from what I can see—would have been as helpless as a baby. If you’d fought back, all that would have happened would have been you getting hurt even worse or killed. You’re not trained to fight, you’re not a large man, and if someone was that determined to attack you, they probably had weapons as well.” “S-so I’m h-helpless.” Romi shook his head and sighed. “Is that what I said? Look, you’re a naturalist, not a soldier. It makes my job easier that most of the population can’t put up a decent fight. Do you think being Prijian should give you some special powers? Were you born Gifted and I didn’t know it?” Karik looked away. “If this had happened to your Ma, or...or your daughter’s mother, say, would you think they were weak?” “Th-they’re wuh-women.” “Uh huh. So’s Jou—did you see her sparring with Wepizi the other day? Kicked his arse pretty well too. But if that doesn’t convince you, what about if it were Soza or Kei? Now Kei’s a tall, fit man, but not a fighter—someone who was determined could take him down in a minute. You’re not weak. Next thing you’ll be telling me is that you deserved to be raped.” Karik shot him another look—this time, a little guiltily. “M-Maybe I ah....” “Asked for it? Are you serious? What in hells could you possibly have done to deserve it?” “I j-just l-look an e-easy target.” “So? Does that mean people have a right to hurt you? To someone who likes to hurt others, anyone can look an easy target. If they’re using drugs, then physical size makes no difference. It could have been me, Jou, a child—anyone.” Romi looked at him seriously. “I know you’re rattled, but don’t go down that road.” Karik didn’t seem convinced, but he didn’t look quite as tense as before. “I sh-should speak to KKizinke.” “No, that’s my job.” As Karik began to bridle, Romi held his hand up to forestall him. “Wait. If this was the village, or a private argument, I’d say good luck to you. But it’s not—it’s a disciplinary matter, and potentially one which could cause conflict. Let me handle it—please. You’ve every right to be angry but this needs official handling.” Karik nodded, and looked back over the lake. “I f-feel so c-close to rem-membering sometimes,” he murmured. “I d-dream.... But it m-makes no sense.” “I wish I could help.” Karik glared. “You! Y-you’re so r-rude to me!”
Romi bit his lip, not wanting to laugh since it wasn’t a funny situation, but really, he sounded so indignant. “You’re pretty rude to me too, you know, but I bet if our situations were reversed, you’d want to help. You’re too decent not to. Anyway, whether you believe me or not, I really do wish there was something I could do.” Karik just shrugged, and resumed his long stare over the water. Romi was content to wait for a while—sitting on the gravel wasn’t that comfortable, but it was a pleasant afternoon and the sun was warm on their faces. “My mother always said she wanted to find that flower just once before she died,” he said after a few minutes sitting in silence. “She’ll be delighted to know it’s real. I don’t suppose you feel like telling me how she could find it?” Karik didn’t answer, and Romi thought his clumsy attempt at an apology for his behaviour a few days ago had missed its target. But finally Karik straightened up. “It’s only f-found in very poor s-soil, or even bare rock. It tends to c-colonise barren gr-ground, and then is p-pushed out by other plants. We’re not s-sure why. Kei is growing it in the ah-academy garden. It’s very pretty, but it m-makes a poor ornamental plant because it only g-grows where other things will not.” “If I could bring it to Ma, or help her find it, I think she’d be grateful for ever. She loves flowers.” “I could...maybe d-draw a map of where it’s likely to be found.” “Would you do that for me? “Of c-course not.” “Oh thanks very much, Karik,” Romi said, pulling a face, but secretly pleased at the teasing. “Feel like going back now? We don’t have to.” For an answer, Karik got to his feet and began to walk back. Romi followed without challenging him on his abrupt manner. He had no real idea how Karik must be feeling, and was prepared to cut him some slack. He wasn’t sure why Karik’s rudeness didn’t bother him when even Soza’s politeness made his teeth grate—it was probably because Karik’s anger and his reactions seemed honest, and Romi had yet to see him do anything malicious. Soza, on the other hand, made mischief for the fun of it, and Romi had always loathed people like that. Jou was waiting for them—Romi would have bet money on the fact she’d been keeping a surreptitious watch on them the whole time—and approached Karik warily. Romi walked away and let them make their peace, which he was sure they would. Karik wouldn’t have meant to hurt her, he was certain. Right now, Romi had a fine haunch of Andonese arse to roast. Soza was off somewhere—being eaten by a wild beast, Romi hoped. Kizinke was sharpening one of his several knives as Romi approached. “Ah, captain, I trust our young Karik is over his little upset?” “If he is, that’s no thanks to you, Kizinke. Why did you feel it necessary to impart personal information about one of your team members to the tribe?” Kizinke stopped work on his knife. “What are you implying, captain? I dislike the tone you’re adopting.”
“I dislike what you did. I’m implying nothing. You told the tribal people about the attack on Karik. Our team’s private matters are to stay just that—private.” “No one told me his attack was a secret, captain. Of course I didn’t mention that it was of a sexual nature, but—” “What? Who told you that?” Romi found himself looming over the man and made himself stop. “One of the soldiers at the barracks. I asked him why Karik looked so nervous, and he told me. As I said, I didn’t know it was a secret.” “Who was this who told you?” Kizinke shrugged. “I don’t know the name. Someone I spoke to in passing.” Romi nearly called him a liar on the spot, except he had no proof of it and it was barely possible Vyoti had let the information slip. He gritted his teeth. “Well, for future reference, this is not a matter of common knowledge, and not to be passed onto anyone else. I still would like to know why you did so today.” “Karik caused us quite a bit of embarrassment with his childish reactions. We were on the verge of being thrown out of the camp, so I had to explain. I wasn’t aware you would prefer to jeopardise the mission to preserve the modesty of a junior team member. A Prij at that,” he added, spitting on the ground to punctuate his disdain. Romi was holding onto his temper by a very short margin. “If the birthplace of any of our team causes you offence, friend Kizinke, I’m sure we can do without your services. If you decide to remain, then you will not repeat such remarks as you have just made about anyone, let alone Karik. As for jeopardising the mission—my people come first. If I have to avoid the tribes to keep them safe, I’ll do that. Humiliating them is not acceptable.” “As you wish, captain. I merely sought to follow your requests. Now I understand them better,” he added with a low bow which might have been mocking, or merely an apology. Romi had a very strong urge to put his boot up this fellow’s arse and decided to retreat before he gave into it. Wepizi and Taz were cleaning the birds Wepizi had killed for their supper. Romi dismissed his soldier so he could talk to Wepizi alone and tell him what had happened. Wepizi frowned angrily as Romi told him that someone in the barracks had apparently been loose-tongued. “I find it hard to believe any Andonese soldier could be so unkind,” he said. “But then I find Kizinke’s behaviour incomprehensible too.” “That’s one word for it,” Romi said heavily. “Do you believe him when he said they refused to have any of us into the settlement?” “I confess I have my doubts, but I don’t speak the tongue—I only know a few words. I’ve never heard of the tribes refusing our own soldiers before.” “That’s what I would have thought. Wepizi, this needs to come from you. Let him know that if we’re not welcome, no one goes in. In future, I want him to stay well back and you do the talking first.
We’ll call on him as a last, not a first resort. If that bastard Soza put him up to this, then that might put an end to any trickery.” “I’ll do my best, my friend. And how is Karik?” “He’s pulled himself back together, no thanks to Kizinke. He’ll be fine, but he’s not going in without Jou or Netu again. Soza obviously couldn’t be bothered protecting him.” “Indeed not. The more I see of that man, the more I think Sephiz created him just to demonstrate how corrupting a lack of love in one’s heart can be. He serves no other purpose in a universe made by a benevolent god that I can discern.” With which statement Romi heartily agreed. He wouldn’t be at all surprised to find Soza was behind Kizinke’s ‘translation’, but he would have to be careful in making any accusations. They were in the land of Kizinke’s people now, and he had real influence. He just hoped Wepizi could warn the man off without causing a major incident—but influence or not, Romi wouldn’t stand for him using Karik as sport. He only wished there was a way of replacing him with someone more trustworthy, but failing that, Romi would be on his guard. Karik would not be hurt in that manner again, if he had the least thing to say about it.
~~~~~~~~ That day in the remote mountain settlement was the day on which all the pleasure ran out of the expedition for Karik. Once they’d left Visiqe, with not having to be afraid of another random attack, and the kindness of his team mates, he had been able to put the assault behind him a little, though the oddest things kept bringing it to mind. Soza’s voice or presence seemed to be the worst, though anyone coming up behind him suddenly was likely to startle him unreasonably. But he’d really thought he was getting over it, until the day they had gone to that settlement. He’d been uneasy anyway—something had felt very wrong about the way the tribal people had refused even their own country’s representative, which went against all the Andonese laws of hospitality. The settlement too had been very different from those he’d seen before—larger, more protected looking, less open and ramshackle, almost like a military camp. As they rode into the settlement, they’d been surrounded by dozens of large and unfriendly looking men, and it soon became obvious that his Prijian heritage was less cause for curiosity than outright derision. His attempts to break the ice had met with stony silence, and whatever Kizinke had said after that, made the lips of their audience curl with contempt. For the first time since they’d starting visiting the settlements, Karik felt afraid, and he very much wished Romi or Jou had been allowed to come with them. He hadn’t realised how much he had come to rely on the safety and protection they offered, until it seemed that protection might actually be needed. Someone had grabbed his shoulder and he’d jerked away in shock. When someone else had taken hold of his braid at the root to tug it, he’d yelled in fright, whirling on the man and angrily telling him
to stop. That had made the stony expressions turn ugly. Kizinke said something, and after a short exchange, the headman had come up, flipped Karik’s braid dismissively and told him that since he looked like a girl, obviously he could only behave like one. “Even our women would fight to defend their honour. You’re not a man,” he’d said, and turning his back on Karik, had walked away, with most of the men of the tribe following. Karik had stood rooted to the spot by humiliation, and even when it was clear Kizinke and Soza were to go with the headman, Karik was physically prevented from doing so. “You stay with the women, girl-child,” one of the hunters had said, shoving him back towards the snickering females. And so he’d had to spend the day, not chatting about children and medicine and herbal cures as he had done in the low country, but being set to work like a criminal on punishment duty—grinding grain and washing clothes under the supercilious eye of someone he guessed was the headwoman. There was no friendliness about it—they had intended to drive home his lack of manliness, and though the chores were no different than those he would have done at home with his parents, the fact that the women saw it as mockery, made it so. He hadn’t been treated with such contempt since he’d been a child, and could only deal with it as he had then, by retreating into silence and enduring. All he’d wanted when he’d got back to camp was to be left alone, but he’d reckoned without the dread captain Romi. If Karik had been prone to violence, he might have done the man some physical damage for not letting him work off his pain in private. But the dread captain surprised him yet again, and while Karik still wished it had been anyone but Romi who had come after him, he couldn’t fault the man for the kind way he’d handled things, nor the wisdom of his words. No, it wasn’t Romi’s fault Karik now just wanted the expedition to be over, and seriously doubted that he’d ever want to travel to Andon again. It wasn’t Soza’s fault either. He had far less time for Karik these days, which Karik didn’t mind, since he couldn’t seem to get his subconscious to forget the unfortunate business at the academy. Seeing Soza reminded Karik of what had happened in Visiqe, and he was cowardly enough to be glad that Soza was often too busy to talk to him. Karik didn’t like Kizinke, hadn’t done even before the incident at the settlement, but he didn’t begrudge Soza his friend since his new friendship with Kizinke seemed to be the key, finally, to his understanding how to work harmoniously with the team. The problem was in Karik himself. He couldn’t put what had happened at the settlement out of his mind, and every time he thought about it, he thought about the attack—or rather, what he didn’t know about the attack. Gnawing over it made him short-tempered and sleepless, and even his close friends like Jou gave him a wide berth. Wepizi respected his expressed wish to be left alone, and the others were too busy with their own work to pay too much attention to him though he was aware of their friendly concern. Romi was driving him insane, so no change there. The lieutenant’s strange standoffishness was so inconsistent Karik couldn’t made sense of it, and would rather have been snubbed completely than endure this on-off friendliness. He would never understand the damn man or his actions, and wouldn’t put himself out to try.
After that first disastrous contact, Karik never actually made it into another settlement. The reasons differed—twice, the soldiers were allowed in, but Karik was not. In another, no soldiers were allowed, though the naturalists were grudgingly welcome, so Romi had politely declined the invitation. And on the last, most humiliating occasion, no restrictions at all had been placed, but as they prepared to ride in, Karik lost his nerve, quite suddenly and unexpectedly. He dismounted and thrust the reins of his beast at a startled Reisa, before walking off towards the river, trembling and unable to speak for the sudden terror that had come over him. He’d expected someone to come after him and ask what the hell had just happened, but to his surprise and considerable relief, no one did for at least an hour. By then, he’d stopped shaking and wanting to puke, and instead just wished he could die to avoid the humiliation of it all. What in hells was wrong with him? He heard footsteps and turned. Romi. Of course it was Romi. “I’m f-fine,” he said dully to ward off the expected concern. “Yes, I bet. Here.” He had to be quick to catch the knife Romi tossed to him. “Walk with me.” He blinked, and then had to hasten to catch up as Romi didn’t wait for him, instead walking away through the trees back towards a small clearing, where a recent storm had brought down two trees, now pilfered by their team for firewood. “Right, Karik. Come at me with that.” “W-what?” “Come at me with that knife.” “D-Don’t—” He had to dodge quickly as Romi suddenly lunged at him with his own blade. “RRomi!” “Move, damn you! Come at me, you little Prijian weakling! Come on, you pathetic little shit!” Romi launched himself at Karik—instinctively Karik shoved Romi’s knife arm away as he got clear. “Do that again. Come on, I’m not going to wait for you. Do it! Move, Karik! Come on, you pathetic girl, you coward! If I get hold of you, I’ll use you like the woman you are!” Had he gone mad? Karik felt his anger rising, and as he ducked away from yet another deadly lunge, he threw a punch, which actually landed on Romi’s cheek. “Again,” Romi growled. “Do it, you snivelling shit!” Romi gave him no room to retreat, his blade coming again and again at Karik, but Karik refused to use his own weapon, throwing it away before he tried to grab Romi’s arm. Gods, the man was fast, and so strong. Any grip Karik could get on him was broken instantly, and any blows he could land were glancing. All the time, Romi was goading him, spewing out insults, making him angrier and angrier until he couldn’t contain it, roaring his rage, and throwing himself at the man to make him shut up. It was a farce, of course. Romi couldn’t be touched, and when he was done toying with him, he got Karik into a headlock and forced him to the ground, face down. “Let me go,” Karik whispered, now truly afraid and beginning to panic. “Are you angry, Karik?”
“Yes. Please—” “Are you afraid?” “Yes.” “Then fight!” Panic-stricken, Karik heaved, and to his utter astonishment, actually managed to push Romi off him. As soon as he did, he threw a punch at Romi’s jaw. “You bastard! Leave me alone! I won’t let you do that again, I won’t let you!” He threw another punch, again and again, real, bruising blows to Romi’s face and shoulders, but Romi let him, lying passively while Karik vented his rage and fear on him. Finally, with his face bruised and his lip cut in two places, Romi stopped him by trapping his fist. “Enough now,” he said gently. Karik fell back, chest heaving with his exertions and the end of his emotion, then looked at what he’d done in horror, surveying his own reddened knuckles and Romi’s battered face. “Oh...gods. Romi, I’m—” “Don’t apologise, Karik. Just sit still, and let your breathing calm down. It’s all right, I promise you.” Karik felt like crying—he had been so pumped up, and then he’d done this awful thing. “Why?” “In a minute. Take a deep breath, and hold it. Now release.” Romi kept repeating the instructions until Karik felt his heart slowing, and his breathing come back to something like normal. “Feeling better now?” “I hurt you.” “Don’t flatter yourself. Are you feeling better now? Heart racing any more?” Karik shook his head. “Good.” He pulled out his handkerchief to wipe the blood off his face. Karik winced at the sight. “Sorry about that—it was the only thing I could think of to let you get some of this out.” “Why? Why did you let me hurt you?” “Because you needed to hurt someone other than yourself, be angry at someone other than you. I’ve watched you get more and more tightly wound, turning your rage and pain against yourself, and today was the end result.” “I....” He felt cold, and rubbed his arms. “I just...couldn’t.” “I know, and then you went off and blamed yourself again. I thought you might like to express a little of that anger instead of making yourself sick with it.” “But your face....” Romi grinned. “Gods, Karik, Jou does worse than that. I won’t say you hit like a girl, because you don’t hit anything like as hard as she does. Did it feel good?” “Yes...no.... Romi, I don’t want to use violence as an answer.”
“I don’t want you to either, but I’m not suggesting it as a permanent solution. The person you really want to hurt, isn’t here, and won’t ever be. You need to find a way to release your anger instead of beating yourself up. This is all I could think of,” he said with a shrug. “Not very elegant, but I think you feel a little better for it, don’t you?” “A bit,” Karik admitted. “But...don’t give me a knife and let me use it. I could have hurt you by accident. I know what it’s like to be stabbed—I don’t want to do that to someone else.” “Stabbed? That’s how...?” He gestured at his stomach and Karik nodded. “What happened?” “It was five, nearly six years ago—uncle Arman was attacked by someone who had a grudge against him from the war, and I stepped in front of the man’s knife. Got me here and here,” he said, indicating the places and rubbing them in sympathetic memory. “I nearly died.” Romi whistled in awe. “That was you? I heard about that—everyone did. It’s not every day someone tries to kill a Ruler. That was pretty brave of you.” “Pretty stupid, actually, but at least he didn’t kill Arman, poor sod.” “Poor...?” “Um...it was complicated. But anyway, I don’t like knives.” “I understand—sorry. I just thought it would make it feel more real so you’d fight back. I, uh, didn’t mean all that shit I said.” “You don’t want to use me like a woman?” To his surprise and amusement—now he was calmer, he could laugh at the situation a little—Romi flushed. “I was just throwing anything out, trying to get you mad. It worked, didn’t it?” “You don’t have to work that hard to get me angry, captain.” Romi laughed. “Probably not. How do you feel, really?” Karik considered. He was still a little shaky, but that was from being so pumped up, not fear, and the tight knot in his chest had gone. So had the dull headache that had been his constant companion for the last four weeks. “Better. But we’re not doing this again,” he said firmly. Romi’s cheek was already puffing up a little. “Not exactly like this, no, because you’re right—you could hurt me by accident, or yourself. But I think a little intense physical exercise might help—I could ask Jou to let you spar with her, and teach you some self-defence, but I think it might do you some good if you took on someone who’s bigger and more intimidating. Me, Wepizi, Reisa maybe. You’re not going to become a great fighter, but it might let you feel less helpless. Might make you less jittery about being touched too.” “It’s so stupid—my family, my friends, touch me all the time, and now I just jump.” Romi tapped his temple. “Because up here, you’re always waiting for an attack, and you’re on alert. The problem with that is that you can’t keep it up—you get tired, you can’t sleep, and you can’t tell the difference between what’s a threat and what’s not. We have to deal with this. It’s affecting you but also the rest of the team. People are worried about you.”
“Sorry.” “Don’t be a fool—you know it’s not your fault.” He got to his feet. “Come on back to the river, I want to put some cold water on these.” “I thought you said I hadn’t hurt you.” “Doesn’t mean it doesn’t sting and I’ve got my handsome face to preserve.” Karik gave him a disbelieving look and Romi grinned. “Come on. We’ve got the camp to ourselves since everyone is out. We can do some work and then I can give you a couple of basic lessons in how to protect yourself.” It was a quiet, pleasant day, doing minor repairs and chores in the empty camp, collecting firewood, herbs and fungi for supper, and not talking about the attack, or Karik’s panic, or anything remotely unpleasant at all. Instead, they spoke of mundane things, non-threatening things like the worst food Romi had ever eaten on a dare, how Karik had discovered a better way to cook oroj crickets, whether a crossbow or a slingshot was best for hunting hisks and so on. It was a little like spending time with his Pa, and in his heart, he thanked Romi for this precious gift of dignity and peace. “I was thinking,” Romi said as they sat together preparing a big pot of stew for when the others returned. “It might be best to say now that you don’t go into the settlements any more. These bastards are just too touchy and I’m sick of them using your hair colour as an excuse to be rude to us. I’d prefer to avoid them altogether, but if we can cut down all these damn negotiations, it’ll make things less stressful all round.” He tossed the fungi he’d been cleaning into the pot where Karik was browning the other vegetables. “Will you be offended if I make that official?” “No. There’s still lots to do anyway.” “Good, I hoped that was the case. I think you said this was one of the most important parts of the expedition, didn’t you?” “Yes. Mount Arzha’s vegetation is unique. You must have noticed that even now, the plants look very different from what we were passing through two weeks ago.” “Well, I thought it was, but I wasn’t sure,” he said with a self-deprecatory smile. “You’re the expert, not me.” “You should learn to trust your eye, Romi. Maybe you should come collecting with me, instead of Matu.” “You know, I might just do that. Would you mind if I did?” “No. I can always use another pack animal.” Romi just grinned. “Now is when our specimens could be the most use to the academy.” “The seeds?” “And the fruit, yes. I’m a bit worried the beasts will be overloaded. We’re starting to pack ten pounds a day and that’s only going to get worse.”
Romi considered the point as he began to peel a tuber. “We’ll keep an eye on it—only another month to go though. If we have to, we could send some of our people back early, or maybe stash packs for collection. You just get the seeds, I’ll make sure they get back to Darshian.” As the collecting teams drifted back in, Romi’s battered face got some odd looks. Soza was very put out to see Karik sitting so peacefully with the hated lieutenant. “Did you have a good day?” Karik asked him politely. “Yes, indeed. I trust you’re feeling better? I hope you’ll get over these odd spells soon, Karik, it’s rather embarrassing to explain.” Karik flushed at the rank insensitivity and implied scorn of Soza’s words. “You won’t have to concern yourself with it any further, Soza. Since you’re proving so adequate,” Romi said with bland politeness and only the barest emphasis on the last word, “at handling the settlement visits, I’ve decided Karik can take charge of the plant collecting in your place. After all, in such an important region, we need the best person for the job, don’t you think?” Soza gave him an evil look and stalked off, presumably to complain to his new best friend about the treatment he’d just received. Karik turned to Romi. “You’re horrible,” he said, though without heat. Soza had deserved all that, and more. “I am when I want to be. Does it need more salt, do you think?” The stew was pronounced delicious by the hungry crew, and to his relief, no one else was tactless enough to comment on Karik suddenly absenting himself from the day’s activities. As people sipped their tea, Romi spoke to Jou. “We’re getting slack, don’t you think, corporal? If young Karik can kick my arse in a spar?” “Karik did that?” She whistled and gave Karik a mock-admiring look. “Dereliction of duty, straight up, captain. I should put myself on a discipline if I were you.” “Fortunately for me, you’re not,” Romi said, grinning. “But seriously, now the evenings are so long, how about we run some sessions? Anyone else interested?” There was a general show of hands. “Fine. Jou, you can run it tonight. Karik, you can come along if you’d like,” he added casually. “Open to all,” he said in a louder voice, designed to carry to Soza and Kizinke sitting a little way off. “Thank you, no, captain,” Kizinke said with a bow. “My knee gives me trouble.” “Up to you,” Romi said, obviously not crushed. “Everyone done? Then let’s set up.” Karik trailed along behind the others, not at all certain that trained soldiers wanted to have a completely inexperienced civilian participating. He needn’t have worried. Taz invited him to sit next to him as Jou, Wepizi and Romi marked out the area in which the sparring would occur. “This’ll be good,” Taz whispered to him. “You’ve got three of the best fighters I’ve ever seen, right there.” “Really?” “Oh yes. Romi’s a natural, but I’ve never seen a female fighter as good as Jou, and she’s taught me a few things. Wepizi’s just out and out sneaky. I’m hoping to pick up some tips.”
Knowing he wasn’t the only one who’d be learning, took away a little of his nervousness, so Karik settled down to watch. Of course, even before the expedition he’d seen soldiers spar—Arman and Tiko worked out regularly and Arman had invited Karik along occasionally to watch—but he’d never really had much interest in it, seeing it as a rather brutish and pointless activity. In ten minutes, Romi and Wepizi proved what a fool Karik had been to be so disdainful. It reminded him of the time Mila had taken him to see the dancers practicing at the theatre—there was so much contained power and the same perfect control in the way Romi and Wepizi moved around and grappled with each other, as those dancers had displayed. Romi had the edge over Wepizi for weight, Wepizi for height, but in skill, there seemed little to choose between them. There was even a beauty to it, though Karik found it strange to admit that to himself. But this was just for display. Now Romi and Jou were demonstrating specific holds and throws, and calling team mates up to try their luck. “Karik? Fancy a turn?” Jou called after Kepi had dusted himself off. “Me?” “Sure. This is something anyone can do, and it doesn’t matter how big or tall you are. You know what they say about size anyway,” she added with a sly grin. Karik hesitated, but Wepizi gave him a reassuring smile. “You’ll be fine, my friend. Go on.” He drew himself up and forced himself to walk confidently over to Jou. “All right, Karik, I’m going to hold you from behind. I won’t hurt you and you won’t hurt me.” As she moved behind him, Karik couldn’t help stiffening a little in apprehension. Then he saw Romi watching him. The captain gave him a surreptitious thumbs up, and that was enough to help Karik relax. “Now, Karik, throw me over your shoulder.” “What?” “Go on, give it your all.” Of course he had no success at all—she could have been made of granite and anchored to the ground for all the movement he got. “You ate too much stew,” he said, panting, and the watching soldiers laughed. So did she. “I might have, but it’s because you’re doing it wrong. Romi? May I toss you?” “You can try,” Romi said dryly. Karik stepped back, and then Romi came to stand behind Jou. It was pretty obvious he wasn’t making it easy for her, but in under a minute, she had thrown him to the ground, for all he outweighed her by a good sixty pounds. She wasn’t even breathing heavily. “How...?” he asked incredulously. “The trick is to make them do the work,” Romi said, getting to his feet. “I was trying to stop her like someone who wasn’t trained would do.”
“And so I used his fat arse against himself, instead of me,” Jou said cheekily. “Come back and we’ll try it again.” Over the next half hour, Karik tried to learn the trick. Even when Jou reversed positions and threw him carefully, he still couldn’t quite see how she wanted him to move. It was only when Wepizi demonstrated on Romi, and then Jou on Romi once more that he realised what the move was designed to do. Once he could explain it to himself in anatomical terms, it was easy, and when Jou finally found herself on the grass after a successful toss, she smiled up at him as fondly as a mother looking at her newborn babe. “Well done. I’ve never had a beginner move that smoothly once they got the knack.” Karik explained what he thought they were trying to do, and the bones involved, how the muscle groups had to be working to produce the effect. Wepizi was fascinated and insisted Karik gave him a commentary as he did another move, this time using Reisa to demonstrate. “Hey, Jou, don’t forget to tell Karik the three most important bits,” Sibu called as the little lecture began to come to a natural end. “Which are?” Karik asked. “Romi, care to demonstrate?” Jou said. “Gods, why me?” Romi groaned, but obediently took up an attack position behind her. “Be gentle, corporal.” “Don’t be a baby, captain. All right, Karik, you can be the size of a child and still protect yourself against someone coming from behind if you remember toes, “ she swiftly stomped on Romi’s, “nuts and guts!” Karik winced as her elbow expertly—and painfully—applied itself to Romi at just those points. Romi collapsed in not entirely feigned agony as his soldiers laughed. “If you have to choose, go for his balls every time. Being shorter is an advantage if you need to do that,” she added with a wink. “I’ll remember that,” Karik said with a straight face. “Especially if it’s Romi.” “Oh, thanks very much, Karik,” Romi said, groaning again as he climbed to his feet, holding his stomach. “You’re a vicious little bitch, Jou, and I mean that as a compliment.” “Thank you, captain, I try my best.” “I’m sure. Right, everyone, I’m going to nurse my bruises. But we should do this again tomorrow. Jou, work out a programme—one that doesn’t need me as a victim, if you don’t mind.” “You’re no fun, captain.” “I’m getting old, corporal, and I’ve not done using my testicles, thank you.” Karik grinned at that as he walked back to the camp with the others. That had been surprisingly enjoyable, and after the first moments, he’d entirely forgotten about being afraid. It had been a good day for that. Soza and Kizinke were sitting at the fire drinking tea as the rest of the team came back—it was now getting dark, and Karik picked up a lamp to light with a brand from the campfire. “Don’t you think
you’re wasting your time and talent doing something like that, Karik?” Soza asked. “I have to wonder what your esteemed uncles would think of you pursuing such a coarse activity.” Karik’s temper, always an unpredictable beast these days, flared. “Are you suggesting that a pastime fit for my uncle Lord Arman is unfit for me, Soza? I’ll be sure to pass that observation on, next time he and Captain Tiko have one of their weekly spars.” Soza wasn’t the least abashed. “It’s not the pastime per se but those conducting it. Some people soil all they touch,” he said, sending a dark look Romi’s way. Karik glared at Soza. “Yes, indeed they do,” he snapped. “Sorry to be such a disappointment to you. I’m obviously unfit to inhabit your refined sphere and will take myself off to avoid offending you.” He picked up a burning brand and lit the lamp, and bid the two a stiff good night before stalking off to relieve himself. Romi followed him. “Don’t let him rattle you,” he said quietly, leaning against a tree. “This isn’t about him, or his opinions.” “I know. I won’t.” Romi grunted. “Good. You did well tonight, Karik. You can be proud of yourself.” “Thanks. Good night, Romi.” “Good night.” Perhaps it was pathetic of him that Romi’s praise could so entirely take the sting out of Soza’s disdain. At the back of his mind, he knew this fresh conflict between him and Soza would bear sour fruit in the future when he resumed his scholarly work, but the man he was now, in the place he was now, just didn’t care. Soza would cause him trouble, of that he was sure. But the approval of a man like Soza, senior researcher or not, wasn’t as important as retaining his own self-respect. Losing the second to keep the first just wasn’t worth it. Besides, his hero had revealed his feet of clay too thoroughly to ever regain Karik’s approval. He regretted that, but it was past changing. And for now, Karik would use whatever he could, whoever he could, to recover from the damage the attack in Visiqe had caused.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Staying Power: 24 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ The sparring sessions in the warm, long evenings continued, and Karik was accepted as part of them as naturally as any of the team. It helped his confidence, and taught him not only a good deal about defence, but also about his own prejudices. He would never look at soldiering in the same way again, and this was a good thing. He despised muddy or narrow thinking and it was rather shaming to acknowledge his own illogical areas. Still, having acknowledged them, like his fears, he could begin to surmount them, and that was what he intended to do. True to his word, Romi switched from Matu’s team to Karik’s. There was a slight reorganisation of personnel anyway, with them splitting into three groups rather than four as had occurred before. Now Wepizi and Kizinke went with Matu’s group since the geology of this region was considered almost as fascinating as the botany, while Karik led the larger group of plant collectors into the field. Soza stayed in camp with Sibu and Reisa, and occasionally Pali or Tiro, with the soldiers helping him to process the huge amount of material coming in, and attending to the maintenance of the camp. A week or so after that strangely peaceful day, Karik’s team were working in a high meadow east of the camp. The alpine flora was at its most magnificent, and he had to resist the temptation to just lie down in the warm sun and inhale the sweet scent of thousands of flowers all calling to the insects to come and spread their pollen. It was like the world’s most wonderful garden, he thought wistfully, and wished he had some way of recording the beauty to share with his friends and family back home. Jes would adore this, he thought. “Now, now, no day-dreaming.” A shadow fell across his notes and Karik looked up. “Look at this, will you?” Romi knelt and uncupped his hand. “Isn’t he something?” It was an enormous iridescent beetle, with long feathery antennae and red eyes. “He surely is,” Karik said, thinking how jealous Gyo would be not to have seen it. “Where did you find him? Did you record the location?” “Of course I did, Master Karik. He was under a leaf on this plant—here, hold him.” Romi gently transferred the strangely docile beetle to Karik’s hand, and opened the collecting sack at his belt. Karik was pleased to see the card tag was correctly completed—he’d never had to nag Romi about this point. “This confused me—the leaves are like a grass but the flower isn’t a grass flower.” Karik looked at it, and grinned. “Gods, not again. That’s the third plant in two days you’ve found that’s new to our records. We’re going to have so many plants named after you, we may as well create a genus specially for you.” Romi grinned too. “Sorry. I can put it back—”
“Not on your life. And the beetle was with it...hmmm, I wonder if he was looking for prey or if he pollinates it. He’s a bit big for a pollinator.” “Is he dead?” “No, just pretending. Hold him while I make some notes, and then I’ll show you.” He quickly wrote down Romi’s exact description how he’d found the beetle, the plant on which it had been sitting, and made a rough sketch. They weren’t collecting insects, for which Karik was very glad because it would have been a shame to have to kill such a fine creature as this. “Now, look.” He put the beetle on the ground, and moved back. Nothing happened for a minute or so, but then, suddenly with a sharp click, the beetle spread its elytra, revealed its bright yellow underwings and flew off. Romi laughed. “He had me fooled completely.” “That’s the point. Thanks for showing me that—he was special.” “You’re welcome. I think I could really get interested in beetles.” “You remind me of Gyo. He’d stop anything, anytime, if you showed him one. Still does.” “Sounds like a good friend for someone like you.” “Oh yes. The best friend I could ever have,” Karik said with feeling. “And it looks like he’s going to marry one of my other dearest friends.” “Sounds cosy.” “Yes, it does. I—” He was interrupted by distant screams. A woman. “Sibu!” Romi was already running for his beast. “Everyone, on your mounts, now! Back to the camp!” Everyone was mounted up in moments, but Karik had to whip his beast hard to catch up to Romi who had raced ahead to find out what had happened. When they arrived at the campsite, it looked like a battlefield—the tent was collapsed, torn open, their belongings and stores scattered all over the clearing which stank of the blood which stained the ground in great spatters, and right in the middle of the destroyed camp, lay a dead tewi cub—the most probable culprit, but surely not the only one. Romi sent Jou and Taz in one direction after a trail, Kepi and Tiro in another. “With me, Karik,” he said, crouching low to sniff at a broken leaf, then moving silently through the woods. Within minutes, groans led them to Sibu, lying curled around her injuries. She stirred as they rushed to her side, and knelt to tend to her. “Pali,” she whispered, moving her arm agonisingly to point deeper into the woods. “Reisa.” “Stay with her,” Romi snapped at Karik, before crouching again to pick up the trail and heading off. Karik knelt beside the injured woman. He took off his shirt and balled it against the deep wounds on her stomach and chest—he needed to clean, bandage and stitch, but these were tewi claw marks and
until they were safe, he dared not move her. She was bleeding badly but she would survive if she got treatment soon. He checked her, careful not to jostle her. “What happened?” “Tewis. Came into camp. Soza threw a rock.” She gasped in pain. “Shhh, stay still. He threw something at a cub? The mother attacked?” “Yes...tore up the camp...Pali shot it. Reisa wounded the mother....” She winced. “We went after it. Got me.... Reisa and Pali chased it. “ Karik nodded, secretly horrified by what he’d heard. Adult female tewis were about the most feared creatures in Andon, and to have attacked a cub when they’d all been warned that above all else, they must not go near them because of the danger of provoking the female, was madness. “Soza?” “Ran off. No...time to deal with him.” Karik turned sharply as he heard something coming behind them, but was relieved to see it was only Jou and Taz. “We found Soz— Sibu!” Jou rushed to her friend’s side. “What happened?” “Later, Jou,” Karik said urgently. “Taz, Romi’s gone after Pali and Reisa who were searching for a wounded female tewi—that way.” “We need to get Sibu out of here,” Taz said. “Can she be moved, Jou?” Karik quickly told her what he’d discovered of her injuries, and then Jou did a brief examination to confirm. “Taz, do you think you can lift her without hurting her?” “I’ll do my damndest.” Sibu cried out a little as her teammate lifted her gently and carried her back to the camp. Jou held her hand. “What about Romi?” Karik asked. “We’ll find him when Sibu’s safe,” Taz said. “We can’t abandon her.” “Karik,” Jou said, “run ahead and see if you can find the medical supplies in that mess. We’ll need somewhere to lay her down.” He obeyed, racing on through the trees, trying to make a mental map of the camp as it had been and where Netu had stowed the main supplies. He found Soza sitting on a rock, being tended by Kepi and Tiro—he didn’t look seriously injured, although he was holding his arm and Tiro was easing a boot off one foot. “Kepi, Sibu’s badly hurt—I need Netu’s supplies. Help me lift this lot up, will you?” Soza looked at him, white-faced. “Karik, I—” “Be quiet,” he snapped, and Soza quailed. “We’re still in a dangerous situation. Tiro, Taz and Jou are bringing her in, but Romi went after the others. There’s a wounded female tewi on the loose.” “Gods. Right—Kepi, I’ll stand watch, you help Karik. Does anyone know which way Wepizi and Matu’s group went?” “They were going to climb that low peak to the south,” Karik called over his shoulder. “You better keep an eye out for them until we know if the tewi is dead.” The stench of blood was overpowering, but there was no time to deal with it now. With Kepi’s help, Karik lifted the collapsed tent, and they found the supplies. While Karik sorted them out, Kepi
dragged a sleeping pallet out of the mess and set up a makeshift bed for their wounded colleague. Karik told him to bring out two more—it was likely that Sibu wasn’t their only casualty. He didn’t consider Soza to be one—Soza was sitting up, had good colour and wasn’t leaking blood. Compared to Sibu, he was fine, and could damn well wait until the emergency was over. They were still finding the things they needed to help treat a wounded person when Taz and the two women entered the clearing. Sibu was only half-conscious but still in great pain. Jou took charge. “Karik, you and Kepi will help me. Taz, Tiro, go back after Romi.” The two soldiers peeled off. Kepi was sent in search of clean water. Karik helped Jou cut Sibu’s shredded shirt from her body and the extent of her injuries became clear—ten deep gashes across her right breast and stomach, a broken right arm and bad bruising down her right side. They’d barely begun to deal with her wounds when Karik heard a shout and lifted his head to see Romi, Taz and Tiro helping Pali and Reisa into camp. Karik and Kepi ran to assist them—Reisa was the most seriously hurt with claw marks across his face and blood all over his upper body, but it looked like both men had tangled badly with the tewi. “Is it dead?” Karik asked as he supervised Reisa being lowered to one of the sleeping mats. “It’s dead,” Romi said, his face grim. “Pali said there was only the one cub, so I think we’re safe for now.” He knelt by Sibu. “Courage, soldier,” he said gently as she winced against Jou’s handling. “Can I help?” he asked Jou. “We’ll handle this, Romi,” Jou said. “You better deal with the camp and that stinking thing.” “Yes. Does anyone know what happened?” “Time for that later, Romi,” Karik said, not wanting him to find out while things were still so fraught. “Tiro? Can you help please?” The three injured soldiers took all his attention as he and Jou worked to staunch the bleeding, and clean, stitch and dress the wounds. Around him, he was aware the camp was being put into order, and that Wepizi and the others had arrived, but he concentrated on the task and didn’t lift his head until all three of their patients were dosed with pijn and out of danger. Netu, coming to assist them, said he would check on Soza once Jou and Karik had things under control. Karik and Jou were covered with blood by the end of it, and, retrieving his shirt, he went with her down to the stream to wash. “Gods, Karik,” she said, scrubbing her hands and arms in the swift flowing water. “That’s the worst I’ve ever dealt with. Sibu will bear those wounds until the day she dies.” Karik nodded in sympathy as he wrung out his shirt—they were disfiguring and painful injuries for anyone, but for a woman to have one breast half torn off was even more horrible. “At least she’s alive, and she’s young and fit enough to heal fast.” “She can’t travel on with us though. None of them can. Did she say what happened?” He waited until she’d finished rinsing her face before he answered. “Um, it looks like Soza provoked the cub and the mother attacked....”
~~~~~~~~ Romi surveyed the camp, rubbing his forehead as he tried to make sure he’d covered everything. The only person who’d told him what had happened was Soza, who was half-paralysed with terror. All he’d said, in a rather incoherent fashion, was that they’d found tewis in the camp on their return and had been attacked. The man himself had a slashed arm and a badly sprained ankle which Netu was treating, now Jou and Karik had finished with their more seriously wounded colleagues. Sibu and the others were now resting quietly on sleeping pads in the open—as Jou and Karik headed to clean up, Jou had said that the patients were out of danger and just needed time to recover. Wepizi was supervising the resurrection of the tent—it was damaged and would need repairs, but at least it would still provide some shelter. The scattered packs and stores were being collected and tallied, while the corpses of the dead animals had been taken deep into the woods to be skinned and then buried. Slowly order was being restored, and now Romi would have to consider how this affected the expedition as a whole. As he was pondering this, and watching the activities going on around him, he suddenly heard running footsteps. He turned just in time to see Jou wrench Soza from Netu’s hands, lift him up bodily and slap his face. Gods. Romi ran over and prevented her launching a more serious blow with her clenched fist. “Stand down, corporal,” he snapped, pulling her back. “What’s going on?” She spat in Soza’s direction—the naturalist was cringing against the tree under which he’d been sitting. “All this is his fault,” she said, as she lunged at the man again. Romi pulled her back, wrapping his arms tightly around her to stop her doing Soza—or anyone else—an injury. “Sibu got hurt because this bastard threw a rock at the cub!” “I said, stand down, soldier!” Romi strengthened his grip on her. “Nedi! Matu!” The men came over and he passed his struggling corporal to them. “Calm down, Jou, or I’ll tie you up.” “But Romi—” “I said, calm down. I’ll deal with it. Nedi, take her away.” He waited until she was well clear and then he turned to Soza. “Is that true?” he asked through gritted teeth. “Did you throw something at the cub?” “It was going through the specimens! Who knows what damage—” Romi had heard enough, and as Jou had before him, he hauled the man to his feet. He pushed him against the tree and pulled Soza’s shirt up around his skinny throat, lifting him by it. “I should kill you,” he growled. “You pissing bastard—do you know what you’ve done? Do you know what you’ve done to my people? You pissing little shit.” Soza was starting to turn purple and struggle for air. Romi found he didn’t care. “Romi, stop.” Romi ignored Wepizi in favour of putting Soza out of everyone else’s misery. “Romi! Captain Romi, stop or I’ll arrest you! Damn it, man, stop or you’ll be a murderer!”
Romi released his grip, letting Soza fall. He allowed Wepizi to pull him back, before pointing to Soza and ordering Netu, “If he moves, tie him up. If he breathes, tie him up.” Soza was still choking and gasping. “Tried to kill me! Lep Wepizi, arrest him!” Wepizi turned and gave Soza a hard look. “I saw nothing. Be quiet or I’ll tie you up myself. Captain, come with me.” Romi let Wepizi tug him along out of the clearing, and by the time they stopped, he had got a better hold on his temper. “Sorry.” Then he punched the tree next to him. “Actually, no, I’m not. You should have let me kill him. Did you see Sibu and Reisa?” “I did, my friend, but I can’t let you murder a man in front of me. Now calm down. This does not befit you or your rank.” Romi took a deep breath and another, before nodding. “All right. But gods....” “Yes, I know. It defies credulity.” Wepizi made him sit on a log, but didn’t join him—Romi got the impression he was being guarded. “Now we have to decide what to do.” “There’s nothing for it—we turn back now. The only thing I care about is getting Sibu and the others out safely, and if possible, prosecuting that fool for his recklessness.” “Hmmm, the latter isn’t likely, but I agree we must start back and soon. They can’t travel yet—we need to know how long it will be, and how we will transport them without making their injuries worse.” “Yes. I’m all right now. I need to go deal with the mess.” Wepizi kept his hand on Romi’s shoulder and spoke to him before he would allow him to go back to camp. “Do not allow your temper to rule you in this. As soldiers we are sworn to protect even the stupid, and to uphold the law for all, not just those we like. If you lay hands on him again, you will force me to take official notice of it—I don’t want to do that to a friend or a fellow officer.” “No. I’m sorry, I just—” “Gave in to a perfectly understandable impulse. I know, my friend, but don’t give this creature the upper hand.” Romi took another deep breath. “No, you’re right. Very well, let’s go back.” You could cut the tension in the camp with a knife, and that wasn’t entirely metaphorical as several soldiers had their weapons out, perhaps in defence, perhaps as a more direct threat. The men who had gone to deal with the carcasses had returned, and now Kizinke and Netu were guarding Soza from the hostile team. Jou was still being kept away from him by Nedi and Matu, and a little way off stood Karik, his wet shirt in his hands, his expression unreadable, and, it seemed to Romi, carefully positioned not to show allegiance to one group or another. “All right, soldiers, weapons sheathed. Come to attention,” Romi called out. There was a brief shuffling as short swords and long knives were slammed back into sheaths, and men stood up straight. “You all know what’s happened, and who seems to be to blame for it. I’ll be making an official report
on this incident and further action may be taken once we return to Darshian, but for now, that’s all I’m legally allowed to do. Jou, I know how you feel, I really do, but as Lep Wepizi has reminded me, our duty is to uphold our law and that of Andon. I’m issuing a direct order that no one is to lay a hand on Soza without prior authorisation from Wepizi or me. However,” he said, turning to where Soza was hiding behind his protectors, “you are henceforth confined to camp, and you will not be left unattended at any time. Consider yourself in custody.” “Wait a minute, you—” “Shut up. Shut up or I’ll have you gagged, Soza. Netu, if he opens his mouth again, use your imagination to find something nasty to fill it with.” Netu saluted as he gave Soza a filthy look—their gentle medic was no happier with the man than anyone else was. “As for the expedition, we’re going back as soon as Sibu, Reisa and Pali can be moved safely. For now, everyone just do what you can to repair the damage. Kepi, take over from Netu—Netu, go back and look after Sibu and the others. Wepizi, would you take charge of the tent repairs, please?” “Excuse me, captain,” Kizinke said, walking forward towards him. “As a citizen of Andon, I must protest this high-handed treatment of a civilian and guest in my country.” “Noted—make a report and shut up. Anyone else got a problem? Right, get on with it, people.” He turned and walked back to where Jou was standing behind her guards, her face stained with tears of rage, her fists clenched into white-knuckled tension. “Romi, did you see what he’s done to her? To them? You’ve got to do something!” “I know, but under the law he’s not really committed a crime. I’ll make sure those who need to know and who can take action, will. But for now, I need your word of honour that you won’t go near him.” “I can’t. I want to kill him.” He searched her face, and with a sinking heart, realised this was literally true. “Then consider yourself under arrest, corporal. Matu, will you find some rope, please?” Matu hesitated. “Romi, you can’t—” “That was an order, soldier. If I have to have you all tied up, I will.” Matu turned to obey with obvious reluctance, but then Jou forestalled him. “Wait. I....” Romi put his hand on her shoulder and made her turn. “Corporal?” Her jaw was working, tears filled her eyes, but her voice was steady. “I give my word. My word of honour. I won’t touch him.” She was still furious, but her word was her bond. “Thank you. Matu, Nedi, dismissed. Go help Wepizi.” He waited for the two men to leave and then he embraced her, pulling her close in a totally unprofessional manner though he really didn’t care. “I’m so sorry, Jou,” he whispered as she cried. “So sorry.”
Her hands, fisting in his shirt, tightened. “She’s going to be scarred for life. Reisa too.” “Brave scars, Jou, bravely won. Don’t underestimate them.” She only let him hold her for a minute or so, before pushing him away, and rubbing her eyes angrily. “Sorry,” she muttered. “I understand. I promise you none of this is going in my report. It never happened.” “I deserve—” “Nothing but praise for handling the injured so well,” Romi said firmly. “You’re still all over blood—go and get clean. I’ll send Tiro down to you and I want you and him to net some fish for supper. Take your time over it, corporal.” She sniffed and wiped away a few rogue tears. “Yes, captain.” He saluted, she returned it shakily and walked away. Gods. If she hadn’t backed down.... If he ended up arresting his own people to protect that shit.... He turned to go back into the camp, and found Karik waiting silently for him. “Come to plead for that bastard too?” he snapped. Karik hesitated, taken aback by his temper. “N-No. I j-just wanted to kn-know if I c-can help.” “No, you...wait, yes. Can you do me a favour?” “A-Anything.” Romi frowned. Why was he stuttering? “What’s wrong? I’m not angry with you, if that’s what you think. I’m just rattled. Sorry—I shouldn’t have barked at you like that.” Karik lowered his eyes. “It’s all right. I’m j-just upset about S-Sibu and Jou.” Romi cursed himself for being an insensitive idiot. “Yes, I understand. I sent Jou down to the stream to wash and cool off, and I said I’d send Tiro down to her so they could net some fish—I want to give her a chance to calm down. Could you go instead, and listen to her and let her vent?” “Of course. I’ll g-go now.” “Thank you.” As Karik turned to go, Romi had to ask. “Are you angry about Soza? I mean, keeping him in custody?” “No. I s-support your decision completely. I j-just.... I’ll get the fishing gear.” “You just...?” Karik turned. “It’s j-just...we’re so c-close. To finishing, I mean.” “Karik, we can’t go on with people this badly injured.” “I know. J-Just a shame to w-waste their sacrifice. C-Can’t be helped. I’ll find Jou.” And he walked off, leaving Romi with something else to think about. Not what he really needed at this point, he thought with a sigh. All credit to his team, order was restored far quicker than he’d expected. Someone had shovelled earth over the blood that had poured from the dead tewi, and the tent had been moved a little distance
away from the mess. Sibu, Reisa and Pali were now safely sheltered within it and being tended by Netu, who didn’t like to venture an opinion as to when they could travel just yet, but would know better within a day, he said. Sibu was the worst injured though Reisa was also badly hurt. Pali had no broken bones but would be very sore and immobile for a few days. Romi told Netu to concentrate on making them comfortable and to worry about travel later on. Keeping a guard on Soza meant that the personnel available for the watch and normal duties was reduced even further, but it was as much for the man’s protection as to prevent him doing something else so culpably stupid—even now, Romi was glad he was out of sight because the urge to do serious harm to the bastard was almost irresistible. As Wepizi directed the repairs to the side of the tent—fortunately not as badly damaged as it had first appeared—Romi discussed the rearrangement of the watch rota, and then the matter of getting people home. “How quickly do you think we can get back?” “Hmmm. With good weather and travelling constantly, I would think we could be back in Visiqe in under a month, and then two weeks to Tsikiugui by river. Our injured will slow things down, of course.” “Can’t be helped,” Romi said. “Kizinke?” The guide came over, his expression still surly. “I want you and Tiro to draw up maps for Lep Wepizi’s use. I want the fastest, safest route back to Visiqe you can devise—safety before speed, the easiest route for the beasts.” “As you wish, captain. But a map is unnecessary if I will be with them.” “It’s a backup plan in case something happens to you. Don’t argue with me,” he snapped. Offended, Kizinke withdrew. Wepizi gave Romi a wry look. “He’s going to make a complaint about you, you know that, and his family have influence. It seems a little unfair of you to blame him for his friendship with Soza when you aren’t blaming Karik.” “Karik didn’t leap up to defend the bastard,” Romi growled. “Besides, I don’t like Kizinke’s face.” “Our beautiful man is far easier on the eye, for sure.” “Wepizi, not the time or place for this, all right?” “I apologise, my friend,” he said with a little bow. “Merely my attempt to lessen the tension.” He was putting his foot in it all over the place this afternoon. “No, I’m sorry—but gods, what a mess.” “It could have been so much worse,” Wepizi said seriously. “No one’s dead or in danger or dying, and we don’t seem to have lost anything important.” “Only through pure luck,” Romi said. “I still want to see him pay for this.” “My friend, people do stupid things all the time, only not usually with this kind of consequence. We’re soldiers. It’s our job to save the population from the effects of its own idiocy.” “Yes, I know,” Romi said with a sigh. “I better go see how the others are getting on.”
Two hours later, Jou and Karik returned, bearing a good catch of fish and a sack of edible plants from the river’s edge. Jou looked a lot calmer, though it seemed to Romi her peace had been won at the cost of more tears. Karik looked rather subdued and Romi couldn’t really guess at his thoughts. “Is everything all right?” Romi asked Karik as Jou went over to Netu. “Yes,” Karik answered, preparing to walk off as he did so. Romi caught his arm. “Thanks for that. She needed someone.” “She helped me, I helped her,” Karik said with a little shrug. “Still.... Listen, I’m giving some thought to what you said...we’re on watch together, let’s talk then.” “Together?” “Well, Jou and Netu need to look after the others. Do you mind?” “No. But I...need some time alone now.” “Of course.” He released Karik’s arm. “Just don’t wander off—we don’t know if there are any more tewis around.” It was a quiet, tense team who ate supper and prepared to settle down for the night, their wounded given precious extra space and protection in the cramped shelter. With half their team either injured or otherwise occupied, the watch shifts had to be lengthened to two hours each. Romi had assigned Karik and himself the second last one, an hour after midnight, and found it hard to wake up when Nedi came to give him the nudge. Karik was already by the fire, boiling up water for fresh tea—he looked tired. “Did you sleep at all?” Romi asked as he sat down. “A little. Nightmares,” he added briefly. Poor sod. “You did well today. I couldn’t have asked for more from any soldier.” “Thanks, but I think I won’t change careers just yet.” Romi grinned at his own words of months ago being quoted back at him. “No, I imagine not. Do you think Sibu will recover all right?” Karik looked up at him. “I’ve seen much worse when I was training with Kei, and once or twice with Ma. Most of the breast tissue on the right is gone, and the slashes are bone deep—gashed the bone in one place. She will probably have bad scarring, apart from the disfigurement, and that could cause problems. She needs to be treated in a proper infirmary.” “With the best will in the world, we can’t get her to one within a month.” “Then we’ll do the best we can for her until we can. Netu and Jou are excellent medics—she’s in good hands.” “They tell me you’re not exactly useless either, Karik. I’ve been thinking about what you said.” Karik poked the fire, his eyes shuttered. “Forget it, it was selfish of me to think of it with them lying hurt.”
“No, it was only natural. How long would it take a small team, no more than say six of us, to do what you need to do at Mount Arzha?” Karik considered. “Sticking to essentials, not collecting geological specimens—if we had a week clear, I wouldn’t complain. But can we do that?” “Well, I’ve been thinking—if Wepizi takes Sibu and the others back, they could make better time in a smaller group. The tent splits into three—we could take a third and we’d also make better time, especially if they took the specimens back, which shouldn’t make any difference to their speed.” “And Soza?” “Ah, now, that’s the tricky question. What do you think?” Karik poked the fire again. “I think it would be a burden to Wepizi to have to handle him,” he said finally. “And with so much ill-feeling.... But no one will want him with them.” “This is true, but he has to go back one way or the other. I can stand him—just. You can, Kizinke can. If I ask for two or three other volunteers, it might be possible. He would be more use collecting plants than hindering a group with injured people.” Karik nodded. “If you judge it wisest.” “I need to think about it more, and talk to Wepizi. It’s not certain anyone will want to come with us, and I won’t force people. Whatever happens, we need to be back at this point within six weeks or we’ll run out of time with winter coming.” “Then maybe we shouldn’t risk it—I don’t want anyone else hurt for this mission.” “Nor I. But as you say, it’s a pity to waste the sacrifice. I’ll bear responsibility for the decision, whichever one I take.” “Thank you.” “You’re welcome, Karik.” That got him a small but genuine smile, which warmed Romi strangely. It had definitely been a bad day if getting a single grateful look made him feel better.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Staying Power: 25 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Karik couldn’t help feeling a definite sense of responsibility for what had happened to Sibu and the others, though not a soul other than himself attempted to make him feel guilty. He could have stopped Soza coming on this expedition if he’d been less concerned about offending the man. Arman had given him the chance, Pa had warned him, and so had Romi. All their worst fears had been realised—but it hadn’t been Soza who’d paid the price, it had been Sibu, Reisa and Pali. He could hardly bear to look at Soza, and he avoided contact with Kizinke who seemed to think Soza had been harshly treated, even though Kizinke surely knew what a stupid thing it had been to do. It was a typical city-dweller’s mistake, for sure—to think you could scare off a large wild animal in that way and not suffer for it. Karik might have forgiven Soza a little if the man had shown the slightest regret for his actions, but anytime Karik heard him talking to anyone, he was trying to justify himself and pretend it hadn’t really been his fault at all. Karik wanted to shake him for being so stupid, but at the same time, he wanted to keep well away from him. For that reason he regretted setting Romi off on the idea of splitting the group, though part of him, despite all that had happened, was still eager to complete their mission, especially since they had all, in their different ways, paid such a price to get this far. Mount Arzha’s plants had already provided a number of important medicines—it was something in the soil, perhaps, Soza thought, or perhaps the volcanic environment changed the plants somehow—and it was certain that more would be found if they could propagate specimens from there. High summer was the perfect time for collecting, and it had been their aim from the start to be here at this very moment to do just that. Within two days, their injured were already much improved. Pali was already walking around, though he was badly bruised and sore. Sibu and Reisa’s pallets were moved outside to let them have some fresh air and sunshine, and both were sitting up, carefully propped up against logs and with extra padding under them to make them comfortable. Karik took turns with Netu and Jou at keeping them company, though the rest of the team was happy to dance attendance for whatever they needed. After Romi confirmed that Wepizi had thought it a good idea to split up, and that subject to getting volunteers, they would be going to Mount Arzha after all, Karik felt he should be the one to tell Sibu. He confessed to her that he felt guilty for even thinking about going on when the three of them had been hurt, but she was quick to tell him not to use her injuries as a reason to turn back. “We’ve worked so hard,” she said as Karik sat holding her hand. “You have to go on—for us.” “When you get back to Darshian, Kei will help you recover.” “I’m sure he will. It’s just a few scratches,” she said bravely. She was a medic, so she knew how bad the damage was, but she never talked about it. “Have you seen this contraption Kepi’s proposing to get us both home in?”
“The travois? Yes.” She pulled a face. “I’m going to be breathing beast farts all the way back to Visiqe.” He laughed. “It’s only until you can ride a little. Two weeks or so, then you can travel with Jou on her beast.” “Two weeks of hell,” she said mournfully. “Why can’t we put wheels on it?” “Kepi’s trying, but he’s not having much luck with the wood. He’s trying to make it as comfortable for you as he can.” “I know. Kepi’s a good man. I don’t know what that stupid wife of his was thinking of to run off the way she did.” She winced and he helped her get more comfortable. “And how are you doing, Karik? Will you be all right travelling off in a small group—with him?” she said, sending a disdainful look to where Soza and Kizinke were working on some specimens, under Tiro’s watchful and suspicious eye. “At least you’ll have Romi. You and he have become friends at last, haven’t you?” “I guess we have,” Karik admitted. “I have every confidence in him being able to get us in and out safely. It’s you I’m worried about.” “Oh, me,” she said scornfully. “I’ll be fine—I’ve got the whole camp running around at my beck and call. Look, here comes another one.” “Another one what?” Jou asked as she knelt at her friend’s side and did a careful check of her bandages. “Another servant, of course.” “Of course, milady Sibu, we’re here to do your every command. Isn’t that right, Karik?” “I’m her willing slave,” he said with a courtly bow, which made them both smile. “But if milady has enough attendants, I want to find Romi.” “Off you go,” Jou said, switching places with him. “You and Romi are so close these days, I keep expecting to trip over your umbilical cord.” Karik flushed hot with embarrassment. “I...I...we’re—” Sibu weakly punched Jou’s arm with her good hand. “Don’t be horrible.” “Sorry, Karik, I was only teasing.” Karik just nodded, not trusting his voice, and got away from the two women as quickly as he could. Was he being that needy? Was that how people saw his behaviour? Just because...well, Romi had been so kind to him...but he was a busy man, and Karik was an adult. He shouldn’t trail around after him like a damn pet. With Jou’s words fresh in his ear, he decided not to look for Romi as he’d been planning, and instead pulled out the notes he wanted to finish before the main group left in four days’ time, taking them and himself up out of the camp a little way onto a ledge that overlooked it and the stream. Mount Arzha was wreathed in cloud and steam, so huge that it seemed just a few miles away, instead of a good hundred and fifty or more. He opened his notebooks, but the giant mountain held his attention a
little longer. What would it be like to climb to the very top—to stare into that enormous caldera, and to know sudden death lay below you? It almost seemed like a living thing, its presence looming over all of them and all that lay around them. A mysterious and dangerous place, that still drew him towards it. “You look a million miles away.” Karik flushed again and turned to face Romi, who was smiling at him. “Just th-thinking about the mountain.” “It’s really something, isn’t it?” Romi said, taking a seat beside him. “I can’t imagine what it’s like when it explodes. Wepizi says their records say the sound was heard as far away as Darshek, the last time it happened.” “Further, I sh-should think.” “Are you all right, Karik? You seem a little jumpy.” “I’m fuh-fine.” Karik cursed his damn stutter which always gave him away. “Did you w-want something?” “Just to let you know that Kepi and Taz have finally decided they will come after all. It’s a small group but not insanely so. Of course, Soza doesn’t really count as a whole person for these purposes.” Karik couldn’t really find it in him to argue against the harsh assessment, and Romi wasn’t saying it for pure nastiness. “Anyway, we’ve got four or five days to iron out all the details, and to change our minds about this. Wepizi and I were going to try our hand at fishing again—would you like to join us?” “I...no, th-thank you.” “Are you sure? I thought you liked to fish.” “I...I have this to finish.” Romi frowned. “As you wish. Are you sure you’re all right?” “I’m fuh-fine. Just busy.” “Hmmm. Well, don’t let me disturb you then. See you later.” Romi stalked off and Karik’s heart sank as he watched his stiff, broad back disappear down the trail. He didn’t want to revive the hostility between them, but he didn’t want to become a laughing stock either—or make Romi into one. He just hoped it wasn’t too late to avoid that. Now he’d been alerted to how his behaviour looked to the others, Karik took care to not seek Romi out more than any other member of the team, or to occupy too much his attention. He asked Wepizi if he could swap watch shift with him, pleading with complete truthfulness that he was sleeping badly and that taking the last shift might help with that. He thought it was only fair to let Wepizi have a chance to spend as much time with his friend as he could, because it would be months before Romi saw him again. To tell the truth, Karik would also miss Wepizi a good deal, but Romi had the prior claim. Romi agreed to the change with only a sharp look in Karik’s direction, but, thankfully, no sharp questions.
Despite the enforced rest as they waited for Sibu and Reisa to recover enough to travel, there was much to be done. Repairs to equipment damaged by the tewis or just through use had to be done and done very well, so that Wepizi’s group would not be delayed by its failure, and stores had to be reorganised and supplemented. Karik was set in charge of checking the health of the beasts and tending to any small injuries which might slow travel down. There was a low thrum of excitement through the camp as many of the team began to anticipate going home to their friends and family. It would have been different if Sibu and the others had been killed, or were not making an excellent recovery, but after the shock of the attack, the soldiers had put it behind them and turned it to good. Karik even heard Wepizi remark that they should have planned it this way from the start. He wasn’t so sure about that, but there was no doubt that there were some definite benefits to the new arrangement. Finally they were as ready as they could be for the groups to part company at first light the following day. Karik couldn’t help the small knot of worry in the pit of his stomach—ironically, he’d have been less concerned if he’d been travelling on his own, but that had been firmly ruled out as an option by both Wepizi and Romi who had been horrified at the very idea. Karik supposed they had a point, but he couldn’t help wondering what travelling with Soza and Kizinke would be like. Kizinke hadn’t spoken a word to him since the day of the tewi attack, although he smiled unpleasantly whenever he saw Karik, as if he knew something about Karik that Karik didn’t. Soza had made a few attempts to be friendly, and Karik hadn’t brushed him off, but he still didn’t like to be around him. The feeling of unease that had been a feature since the attack had now grown into an active nausea, although he hadn’t dared mention this to anyone. It wasn’t like Soza had really done anything to cause it—it was just his stupid subconscious again, and the stress of the last week, not to mention the prospect of saying goodbye to people who had become good friends. He wasn’t surprised that he slept badly, and after he woke from a dozing nightmare, he just knew he wouldn’t get any more sleep that night. He pulled his boots on and went outside. Wepizi and Romi were surprised to see him up. “Can’t sleep,” he said briefly. “I may as well start my watch early, if one of you want to go in?” Romi shoved Wepizi’s shoulder. “Go on—you’re an old man, you need your sleep.” “You’re very impertinent, my friend,” Wepizi said, but he stood and stretched. “Perhaps it’s true— I’m getting too old for this. Thank you, Karik.” “You’re welcome, Wepizi. You’ve got a long day ahead of you.” “We all have. See you in a few hours.” Romi seemed a little distracted, poking the fire without looking at him. “I can manage alone for an hour, if you want to get some sleep too,” Karik said politely. “What? Oh, no, I probably won’t sleep either. To tell the truth, I wasn’t going to wake Tiro. I wanted to talk to you.” “Oh.” Karik delayed the inevitable while he poured himself some tea. “Have I done something wrong?”
Romi turned and gave him an exasperated look. “Now why on earth would you think that? If you’d done something wrong, I wouldn’t wait until the middle of the damn night to tell you.” “S-sorry. W-What did you want to talk about?” “Gods, don’t start stuttering at me either.” Karik stiffened. “I c-can’t help it. I’ve a-always stuttered.” “You didn’t when I first met you.” “B-Because I k-keep it under control, mostly. Unless I’m u-upset or n-nervous.” Romi shook his head. “That’s what I mean. I just want to talk to you—you don’t need to be upset or nervous about it. What do you mean, you keep it under control? You can turn it on and off?” “No. I u-use breathing exercises and tricks to get o-over difficult sounds. It’s why I t-talk a little strangely.” “Oh. I thought you had that accent because of your uncle. That drawl is just like the Prij nobility.” “I kn-know. One of life’s ironies.” “Yes, I suppose it is. But that’s what I wanted to talk about—if I’m going to upset you and make you stutter, maybe we shouldn’t go on this expedition together. I’ve noticed you’ve been avoiding me —I thought it was something you needed to work out, but if it’s me...is it me? I thought we’d got past all that.” Karik felt his face grow hot. “It’s not you. I j-just wanted to give you time with your friends.” “Oh.” Romi looked nonplussed. “That’s considerate, but there’s no reason why I can’t do both.” “Jou...um, well, people think I s-spend too much time around you. That I t-trail around after you.” Romi looked even more confused. “But you don’t, and even if you did, it’s for me to complain.” He gave the fire another savage poke, then pulling his smouldering stick out of the fire and contemplated the glowing end. “That attack really hit your confidence, you know that? The man I met in Urshek wouldn’t have even thought of that.” “You have no idea if I w-would or I wouldn’t—you didn’t know me at all. You didn’t w-want to know me at all.” Romi wagged the smoking stick at him. “Be fair—you were a little snot.” “You were an ah-arse.” “Yes, I was. Still am.” “Am I still a s-snot?” “Of course,” he said with a grin. “But seriously, what do you care if people think you spend too much time around me? I don’t think you spend more time with me than Wepizi or Kepi or Jou do. If I’d minded, I’d have said.”
“Didn’t want to be like Soza,” Karik muttered, now embarrassed at not just having spoken to Romi about it. The truth was, he still expected Romi to be touchy, but he wasn’t, not any more. Maybe it was true—maybe the attack really had destroyed his confidence. “You have about as much chance of becoming like him as I have of fitting Mount Arzha up my arse.” “Is that something you w-want to do?” Karik asked, amused at the image. “Not any time soon,” Romi said dryly. “But that’s my point. Before the attack, the idea that you could be thought of that way wouldn’t have occurred to you. Even when you were annoying the shit out of me, I admired the fact you knew exactly who you were and didn’t give a damn what anyone else thought.” “I always care. I just don’t always change what I do.” “Hmmm. Anyway, now I know you don’t have a problem with me, that’s one less thing to worry about.” “Why would you w-worry about that?” “I don’t—it’s just one less thing.” Romi gave him an annoying grin and Karik decided he wouldn’t give the bastard the satisfaction of grinning back. Arse.
~~~~~~~~ Romi was glad Karik had come out to take watch early. After they had sorted out the little mental idiocy, they had been able to talk as he had become used to, and had grown to like. There were still unspoken limits which neither ventured across—anything to do with Karik’s family, or Soza, or Romi’s love life, were subjects that were left strictly alone. That didn’t limit them much in reality—there was so much to plan for this last part of the expedition, so much to learn from his companion, and so much, flatteringly, that Karik seemed to want to learn from Romi. Someone’s attitude had undergone quite a change, Romi thought wryly. He hadn’t told Karik that he’d seen Soza and Kizinke holding hands a few days before the tewi attack. Karik himself never mentioned either of them, or the change in his relationship with Soza. Romi didn’t know if Karik knew about the situation with Kizinke and didn’t care, or didn’t know at all—but he wouldn’t bring it up, either way. Especially not now, when Karik’s confidence was once more at a low ebb. It was if he blamed himself in some way for what had happened to Sibu and the others. It wasn’t his fault that Soza was the world’s biggest fool. Romi was still worried about this trip to Mount Arzha, though he said nothing to Karik. If they weren’t taking Soza and Kizinke—even if they were only taking one or the other—he would be more relaxed. He strongly distrusted the two of them together, and he grew more and more convinced that Kizinke had been mischief-making when they had encountered the first group of tribal people. But that was another reason to make sure their most vulnerable team members were sent safely away, without
being subject to any of the man’s tricks. Tiro had independently, though covertly, verified Kizinke’s maps and directions from the notes he and Pali had made thus far, and they were sound, he was sure of it. At least with Kizinke travelling with his particular friend, Romi had to hope that his own smaller group would be safe too. Dawn finally began to break. Karik built the fire up and set the pot of water on to boil for the meal porridge, while Romi began to roust people up, and then took Netu’s place while he went for breakfast, sitting by Sibu’s pallet. She was awake, and in pain by the look of it, though she didn’t complain. She wanted to sit up, so he helped her, then Reisa, to do so. “You two all ready to be dragged around like bean sacks?” “Oh don’t, Romi,” Reisa said with a groan. “I’m already dreading the jolting.” “Kepi swears the travois is quite comfortable,” Romi assured him. Twin looks of scepticism greeted that statement. “It can’t be worse than trying to ride with broken bones, Reisa.” “We’ll see. So we’ll be back in Darshek a good six weeks ahead of you. Can’t say I’ll be sorry.” “I will,” Sibu said, somewhat to Romi’s surprise. “I’m going to miss all of you—and Karik.” “Bet you won’t miss Soza,” Romi said and she pulled a face. “I’ll miss you too, but you know what the army’s like—there’s every chance we’ll be mustered together at some point.” “If they keep me in the army,” she said quietly. “If I can’t move properly once this heals—” “Give Master Kei a chance, Sibu. You’re young and fit. Karik says he’s seen a lot worse.” “Besides,” Reisa said, “you can be based in an infirmary—you could do your full healer training, if you want to.” She seemed less than enthralled at the idea. “We’ll see.” “It could have been much worse,” Romi said. “You’re alive and you’ve got all your limbs. Most people who tangle with a tewi don’t survive.” “This is true. Sorry to be so maudlin. I guess I’m sad because we’re saying goodbye.” “Only for now, soldier. I’ll make you a promise—I’ll see you in your barracks before the end of next year, if I have to take leave to do it.” Her eyes lit up. “Promise?” “Word of an officer.” “Then I’ll hold you to that,” she said firmly. “Go eat your breakfast, captain.” “Yes, sir, milady sir,” he said, giving her a mock salute and making her smile again. “We’ll be moving in an hour.” “Don’t remind me. Beast farts,” she said mournfully. Outside, the camp was bustling, and as Romi exited the tent, Jou led people inside to remove the injured, so they could take the tent down and divide it into three. Romi’s group would be the loser from the deal, but since two of them would always be outside on watch, it wouldn’t be too cramped, he hoped. Soza and Kizinke wouldn’t be having sex in it, at least.
Wepizi and Romi kept the pace of preparations high—they needed to make the most of the day. The weather at this time of year could be uncertain and when it was fine, they all needed to get the miles in. Finally, the beasts were loaded, Sibu and Reisa safely ensconced on their travois, and the teams ready to say farewell to each. Romi’s eyes became distinctly damp as he hugged each of his team—all good soldiers, all good friends. He knelt and put a brotherly kiss on Sibu’s cheek, since she wouldn’t bear hugging, and a handshake wouldn’t express his feelings. “Be well, Sibu.” “Next year, Romi.” “I swear it.” Jou hugged Karik, and her eyes were wet too—it seemed to be going around. Then she came to Romi and embraced him fiercely. “You look after him,” she said. “And come back safe or I’ll hunt you down.” “Yes, corporal,” Romi said, grinning and letting her hug him again. “Take care of my people.” “Yes, sir. I hear you’re going to meet Sibu next year—add me to that and I’ll buy the beer.” “You’re on.” Wepizi clapped to call for attention. “My friends, before we part, let me ask Sephiz’s blessing upon our journey.” He clasped his hands and bowed his head. “Benevolent god, we ask you to keep our friends safe on their mission, to prosper their endeavours, and grant them a swift return to their loved ones. We ask you to grant us, your grateful children, a safe and comfortable journey for our injured, and full healing for their wounds.” After a moment’s respectful silence, Romi spoke. “Thank you, Wepizi. I’ll be drinking razika with you in Tsikiugui before year-end. The rest of you—anyone who comes to Temshek barracks can count on a beer, bed and bath even if I have to pay for it myself, and I want to hear from each of you. No slacking,” he said. “No, Romi,” his soldiers chorused, grinning. “Right. Mount up, everyone.” He saluted Wepizi. “Good journey.” Wepizi bowed. “To you also, my friend.” Then he abandoned formality for a last embrace. “Be careful,” he whispered. “Always am.” Romi’s group waited to let the larger one go and then he gave the orders for his people to mount up. “Right—Soza, Kizinke, to the front. Karik, with me to the rear. Forward.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Staying Power: 26 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ It was with the heaviest heart that Karik saw the rest of their team depart. The weather shared his mood, it seemed, as the clouds began to gather—it would certainly rain that day. The air was already heavy with damp heat, and rain was falling on the horizon and on the slopes of Mount Arzha itself. As they headed towards the next pass, his thoughts were unrelievedly gloomy, and Kepi and Taz were also quieter than normal, riding without conversing for most of the day. The only ones unaffected were Soza and Kizinke, who chatted cheerfully and rather too loudly at the head of their small line. Soza was in love, it seemed—Karik had seen him giving Kizinke a quick kiss that very morning—and in high spirits with it. Karik didn’t see the attraction himself, but he supposed it took all types. “They’ll be all right, you know,” Romi said suddenly, startling him. The captain had been riding in silence beside him, respecting his mood, and Karik had quite forgotten he was there. “I can’t help worrying,” Karik admitted, not even pretending that Romi hadn’t guessed correctly as to what was bothering him. “Sibu was in so much pain.” “Yes, I know. But she’d be in pain whether she was travelling or not, Netu said, and the sooner she’s back where there are facilities to treat her, the happier I’ll be. They couldn’t be in safer hands. Wepizi’s been leading teams all over Andon for nearly twenty years.” “I just can’t help it.” “Of course you can’t,” Romi said gently. “Because you’re a good team mate and a good friend. But now our job is to finish the job our team started, and do them proud. So come on, concentrate.” The praise surprised Karik and warmed him, and for that alone, he made himself do as Romi ordered. It soon became impossible not to concentrate on what they were doing—the storm hit them not an hour later, and for the rest of the day they were forced to stop and shelter for twenty minutes at a time as the worst downpours came down, then make a little progress as the rain stopped or eased. It was very tiring travel, and made conversation impossible for a good part of the time. When they finally made camp, the weather didn’t help much to lighten the already strained atmosphere. They were too small a group to avoid each other completely, and everyone had to help erect the tent and do the necessary chores, but somehow Kizinke managed to avoid coming into contact with Karik. Kepi and Taz, who’d made their dislike of Soza very obvious, didn’t speak to Soza or Kizinke at all. Karik pretended he hadn’t noticed the sharp divisions, but when he looked up from cutting up the dried meat and saw Romi’s rueful expression as he watched Soza and Kizinke, pointedly working away from the rest of them, he knew the captain found it a strain too. Even with the vile weather, a watch still needed to be kept. Romi had reserved the least desirable shift—that in the middle of the night, which meant one’s sleep was thoroughly interrupted—and had
offered to either keep it with Kepi or on his own. But Karik, whose sleep was never unbroken these days, had insisted on sharing shift with him. Romi could have done it on his own, but keeping watch solo was hard and lonely, and Karik felt it wasn’t fair to impose that on him. In a funny way, he was looking forward to sharing the watch with Romi again, and the captain’s smile as Karik huddled, yawning, under the shelter as the rain poured down, told him that Romi too was glad he had come. “Do you think any tewi in its right mind would come out in weather like this?” Romi asked as he offered Karik some tea. “Probably not, but they’re clever, and they might think that we’d think that, and make their attack.” “That’s pretty subtle for a dumb animal,” Romi said with a grin. “How come you know so much about tewis anyway?” “Uh...I had a friend whose father traded in animals. I helped him transport some cubs once from Darshek to Kuprij.” No need to mention that the ‘help’ had been entirely involuntary, and that Jembis wasn’t really a friend, though Karik had long ceased to bear him the slightest ill will. In fact, he often wondered how the boy—now a man, of course—had got on, and whether he had ever escaped his brute of a father. He would never know, Karik supposed. “You’ve led quite the life, haven’t you?” Romi said. “Did you ever want to do that? Become a trader?” “No, never. It’s boring. If I’m going to be this homesick, I at least want to see new places, discover new things. Plying the same route by land or sea over and over would kill me.” Romi nodded. “That’s what I thought about our farm. My Pa and my brothers, well, they like the fact that they know the land so well, that they can predict what’ll happen from season to season. I wanted a few surprises in my life.” “So you moved to Temshek, hub of all excitement,” Karik said dryly, and Romi laughed. “When you put it that way, I suppose it was a little illogical. But I’ve been to Andon twice, and to Kuprij, travelled all over Darshian—I can’t complain when the Army has been so good to me.” “I couldn’t be a soldier,” Karik confessed. “Even Arman doesn’t think he could ever do it again— he only went into it because his father wanted him to, but he’s not a soldier at heart.” “And who is, Karik?” Romi’s sharp question made Karik’s heart sink—had he offended the man again? But when he dared glance at him, there was only friendly interest in his expression. “I don’t know. Someone who likes an orderly life, someone not afraid of violence. Someone happy for others to make decisions for him, perhaps. I’m not really like that.” “No, you’re not. But we need people prepared to make the decisions too—and there’s not so much violence. You’ve not avoided it even being a civilian.” Karik’s hand came up reflexively to rub the old wound on his stomach. “No, I suppose not. I guess my main reason for not wanting to be a soldier has to do with Kei.”
“He doesn’t like us? But what about Arman?” Karik shook his head. “It’s not that—he has a lot of friends who are soldiers, and admires the good work the army does but...during the war, he was a hostage. Ten of the hostages from Ai-Vinri were killed right in front of him—by soldiers. It nearly destroyed him—you know, being a soul-toucher and feeling them die.” Romi winced. “Oh, gods. So, swords, violence...?” “Fighting, any kind of physical threat, even people wearing armour...he can’t bear it—it makes him physically sick. If I’d become a soldier, it would have put a barrier between us, and I couldn’t do that to him, even if I’d wanted to go into the army.” “I didn’t know,” Romi murmured. “I thought it was just the kind of blind prejudice I hear so often —that soldiers are so crude, and insensitive, and stupid. To hear people talk, you’d think we weren’t human at all.” Karik couldn’t help it—he flushed to his ear tips, knowing that he was guilty of some of these attitudes himself. “You’re not so bad,” he mumbled. Romi grinned. “Oh, so you admit that we do have our good points?” Karik glared at him. “Some of you do,” he said tartly, which only made Romi grin wider. The rain eased and became nothing more than drips from the overhanging tree. The two hours passed surprisingly fast, and Karik was sorry when it was over—it had been the most pleasant time of a not very pleasant day. Romi sent him back to the tent to wake Soza and Kizinke, holding the watch until the others took over. There wasn’t much room in the smaller tent, and he had to be careful not to wake Kepi and Taz crawling over them. He set the lamp down and shook Kizinke’s shoulder— instantly, the guide came upright, and to Karik’s horrified surprise, had a knife in his hand, aimed right at Karik’s face. Karik froze, wondering if Kizinke knew what he was doing. “It’s me, Karik,” he said urgently. Kizinke held the knife in place for a moment longer, then slammed it back into a sheath somewhere under the blankets. “Filthy Prij,” he spat, though quietly, then got up, shaking Soza’s shoulder, and utterly ignoring Karik, who was still in shock at the unexpected attack. He didn’t mention the strange incident to Romi when the captain came back in and got into his own sleeping pallet, but it kept him awake for an hour or two. So Kizinke resented his birthright—that explained some of the hostility, Karik supposed. But between that, and Soza’s lack of popularity, it didn’t make for a happy journey. All he could do was hope they would get to Mount Arzha quickly, do what they needed to, and return as fast as they could. The lousy weather continued for three days, and their progress was slow, though not unreasonably so. Once the rains moved on further up towards Mount Arzha, the going was faster. There was little collecting being done, though there was usually time for some investigation as food was sought, and Romi’s bow continued to bring down game in the same neat way, letting Karik see the birds up close and examine them before they were cooked. He preserved a few feathers for his own sake, and as gifts
for Meran and Keiji, who loved such little souvenirs. As he pressed them into his diary, he wondered how his friends were, and how long it would be before he saw them again. Kizinke and Soza continued to keep themselves separate. Kizinke’s lips curled into a sneer whenever he passed Karik, though he never said a word, and though Romi once or twice frowned to see it, he never commented on the man’s behaviour. Nor did Karik mention it when they shared the night watch—what was the point, after all? Kizinke didn’t like him—he wasn’t the first and wouldn’t be the last. It was his problem, not Karik’s. Soza was more civil, though Karik did nothing to encourage him. He and Romi had reached a kind of uneasy truce—Soza did what Romi told him to do, and Romi passed those orders through Kizinke. It meant the constant arguments which had plagued the earlier part of the expedition disappeared, although the cold silences which took their place were almost as hostile, at least to Karik’s mind. But it was undoubtedly more efficient, and though Kepi and Taz blatantly ignored Soza, at least it wasn’t Karik to whom he turned to complain about his treatment. That was one effect of Soza’s close relationship with Kizinke that Karik didn’t mind at all. Despite the weather, they made better time than planned, and within twelve days of splitting from the larger group, they had made their base camp. It was good to stop and be more settled, and it was also good to be back doing what Karik loved—exploring the natural environment, and just wondering at the way plants and other organisms interacted so tidily. The weather continued to be intermittently wet and unpleasantly humid when it wasn’t actually raining. Collecting in such conditions was hardly enjoyable, but the soldiers never complained. For his part, Karik was quietly thrilled by the specimens being found—almost everything being brought to him was new to their records, and the keen observations of his companions were building a fascinating picture. It was difficult to contain his enthusiasm and Romi let Karik lecture him endlessly about the discoveries as they worked in the field and kept watch together at night. “Sorry,” Karik finally said one evening when he became conscious he had talked about nothing but botany for nearly the entire shift. “What for?” Romi said, poking the fire. He loved playing with the flames, just as Karik’s Pa did— it was a fire-shaper habit, he supposed. “For boring the arse off you again.” “You weren’t.” “Liar.” “Little snot,” Romi said with a grin. “You weren’t, honestly. You’re really interesting when you’re worked up about things, and besides, I’m always happy to learn. You’re a good teacher.” “I just talk about what interests me,” Karik muttered, embarrassed. “That’s part of it, but Soza can do that and have me yawning in minutes. It’s a talent. Wepizi said so too.” “Oh.” He didn’t know why, but he hadn’t expected Romi and Wepizi to have ever discussed him. Of course they had, Karik chided himself. They were friends. “Do you suppose they’re all right?”
“I’m sure of it,” Romi said firmly. “They’ll only be a week or so from Visiqe, and in another month, Jou will be speaking to your uncles in person and telling them the latest news. Your parents will be glad of that.” “Yours too?” Romi shrugged. “They’re used to me being away. Unless they get a message from the village to say I’ve died, they’ll assume I’m fine. My Pa doesn’t like to be seen to be worried about me.” “But he cares, surely.” “Yes, he does. But you know farmers—no wasted effort.” Karik nodded. The farmers who visited Ai-Albon tended to be on the phlegmatic side too. “My parents have always let me know what they’re feeling or thinking. They’ve never treated me like a child.” “They sound like good people. Did a good job raising you too.” Karik could only nod, embarrassed at the praise. Romi was like his Pa in that respect too—in another life, Romi and his father would probably be good friends. Never be a chance for it in this one, he thought. Even in a week, they had collected an invaluable stock for researchers to work on, and Karik couldn’t resist saying as much to Soza as they began the final preparation of material for transport. “I expect to be extremely busy working on all this, certainly,” Soza said. “You and the researchers at the Darshek academy both,” Karik said, distractedly checking that each wallet was correctly sealed, and not really paying too much attention to Soza’s reply. “None of this material is going to Darshek, Karik. I will be taking it direct to Urshek once we arrive in Tsikiugui.” That got his attention and he laid down the wallet he’d been checking. “Uh, no,” he said, frowning at the older man. “It’s going to Darshek and the collection will be evenly divided.” “Don’t be ridiculous,” Soza said sharply. “I’m the leading expert on Andonese flora—it’s inconceivable I will not be the person to direct the use of this material.” Karik stood up. He was conscious that they were being watched—Romi had stopped what he was doing and was looking at them with a concerned expression, while Kizinke was scowling. “I’m sorry, Soza, but you’re mistaken. Kei and I discussed this in detail.” “Nonsense—Master Jezinke and I were perfectly clear about the arrangements. You wouldn’t have been involved—you’re hardly senior enough to make such decisions.” Karik felt his hands starting to curl into fists and made himself relax. But before he could answer, Romi walked over, apparently casually, chewing on a stick. “Something the matter, gentlemen?” “None of your concern, captain. Karik has become confused about a small issue, that’s all.” “Hmmm. Care to tell me how small?” Romi said to Karik.
“I....” He stopped, trying to make sure he had his facts straight. No, he was absolutely certain Kei had said all the material was to go back to Darshek for distribution, and his uncle had been particularly interested in the Mount Arzha specimens. “I understood all the collected material was to go back to Darshek, and there it would be split between the two academies.” “Sounds fair,” Romi said, scratching his ear with the stick and looking totally unconcerned. “Only because you’re a completely uneducated fool,” Soza sneered. “To you, this collection is no more important than a sack of beans. You would have no idea how important it is that truly skilled persons are involved in its disposal.” “I don’t know. It seems to me that if Master Kei is handling it, you couldn’t accuse him of lack of skill,” Romi said mildly. Karik silently cheered at the barb. “The simplest answer is for it all to go back to Darshek and then Master Kei and Lord Arman can confirm what’s to happen with it—we’re going back there anyway, what harm can it do?” “I was planning to return to Urshek by the direct route,” Soza said, all stiff pride. “I was planning to take this very important collection back with me to Master Jezinke.” “My country’s wealth should be studied by those competent to do so,” Kizinke said, using the long sibilants and formal structure of courtly Andonese, intended entirely as an insult, Karik was sure. “I cannot consent to it being treated as a trophy.” “I’m sorry—I must have missed the part of Lord Arman’s instructions where he said your opinion had any importance whatsoever, Kizinke,” Romi said with a pleasant smile. “The collection is going back to Darshek, and that’s final. If I’ve made an error, then I’ll take the consequences of it.” Soza began to expostulate. “This is outrag—” “This is over,” Romi said, abruptly dropping the genial act. “Complaints to the authorities in Darshek, but for now, shut up. You too, Kizinke,” he added as the guide also began to complain. “Gods, spare me from scientists,” Karik heard him mutter as he stalked off. “You’re a damn disgrace, Karik of Ai-Albon,” Soza shouted, his face purple with rage. “You shame your family and your profession. I’m disgusted I had any hand in your training at all.” Karik felt a surge of nausea at the hateful words, but drew himself up to his full height. “I’m not ashamed of anything I have ever done. Like the captain, I’ll bear the results of my actions—as will you,” he added, unable to resist a little dig at Soza’s less than glorious history. “Now excuse me, I have work to do.” He walked off, forcing himself to walk slowly and naturally, but once out of sight of the other two, he slumped forward, sick and shaky, resting his hands on his thighs and wondering if he would actually puke. “Gods,” Kepi said quietly, coming up beside him and clapping him on the shoulder. “You’ve got balls of solid stone, my lad.” “Th-that’s what my uncle Kei says,” Karik said, managing a smile, though his stomach was still threatening to turn itself inside out.
“Well, he’s dead right,” Kepi said. “You stand up for yourself and don’t listen to his shit. He gives you any more trouble and he’ll find his boots full of beetles one morning. You know how he loves insects.” Karik grinned. Soza loathed beetles with a passion, and Kepi was most likely completely serious. “We’d have to listen to him complain all the way back to Tsikiugui,” he warned. “It’d be worth it. But don’t you let him get away with that rubbish. I’d take you over ten of him, any day.” “Thanks, Kepi.” Kepi grunted by way of acknowledgement then went off to help Taz with the beasts. Karik stood up and saw Romi watching him from a little way off. He half-expected the captain to say something, but Romi only nodded as if satisfied, then went over to assist the others. Karik wondered if he’d made that decision purely to annoy Soza, or whether he understood the wrongness of what Soza had proposed. Probably both, he thought—Romi was perfectly capable of being deeply vindictive and completely fair at the same time. Which wasn’t a bad thing if you were dealing with Soza, Karik thought, still angry at the cruel assessment. He really didn’t care what Soza thought of him anymore, but he was outraged the man thought he had a right to say such things to anyone, let alone him. It was an unpleasant coda to what had otherwise been a peaceful week, and set the seal on Karik’s estrangement from his former mentor, a fact he felt he should have regretted more than he did. The team was now overtly split, with Kizinke and Soza refusing to speak at all to anyone but Romi, and then only while briefly and rather rudely acknowledging his orders. To make the unhappy atmosphere complete, the weather began to display the famous summer instability that Wepizi had warned them of. Between the lightning and thunder, the hailstorms, and the icy atmosphere in the little group, Karik found it hard to remember why he’d ever let Kei talk him into this.
~~~~~~~~ Romi eyed the slope rising from the other side of the bridge with distaste. That was going to be a hard climb. “I will go ahead,” Kizinke announced. “With Soza and the pack beast.” “As you wish.” Romi wasn’t mean enough to hope that the bridge would give way as their supercilious guide and his irritating lover crossed the swollen Gavime river, but he wasn’t generous enough for the thought not to cross his mind—not after the last week when the two of them had been so charming and pleasant to the rest of his team. The river was raging, fed by days of heavy rain on the slopes, and the crash of water through the narrow gorge was deafening. The bridge—wooden planks suspended about a hundred feet above the river on ropes between two stone supports on either side— looked worryingly frail to carry six men and seven beasts. He watched Kizinke and Soza, their single pack animal on a leading rein behind them, cross the bridge without incident. “Let us get to the top first,” Kizinke shouted. “Safest that way.” Romi
signalled agreement, then the two men began to slowly ascend the path up the scree and boulder-clad slope. They reached the top without incident and, once he saw Kizinke wave, Romi ordered Karik and the others to move across the bridge. It shuddered unpleasantly as the beasts began the crossing, and Romi couldn’t help a twinge of fear, though Kizinke had sworn it was strong enough to carry them, and it had borne Kizinke, Soza and the animals just fine. Romi had just set foot on solid ground on the other side of the bridge when he heard Karik ask, “What in hells is he doing?” He pulled his mount to a halt and looked up. Kizinke had dismounted and walked a little way from the beasts. He was bent over a boulder—had he lost something? Or.... Romi suddenly realised what was going on. “No! Stop!” he yelled, though there was no point. The boulder Kizinke had been examining was already rolling towards them—and scree and rocks were now sliding towards the bridge, set in motion by the water-laden soil. At first, the liquid slide seemed slow, almost graceful, hardly a threat at all, but as it gathered speed, a low growling rumble grew menacingly louder with every moment, and suddenly rocks and pebbles were flying towards them at a terrifying pace. “Turn! Run!” Romi shouted at the others as he yanked on his beast’s reins and whipped it into a run back across the bridge, chased by the sound of the rocks tumbling behind him. Karik was already moving, Kepi and Taz just a moment or two too slow in realising their danger, forcing Karik and Romi to stop at the halfway point, mounts panicking and screaming as their riders fought to calm them and force them back across the bridge. “Move, damn it!” Romi bellowed at beasts and men alike—but it was too late. Boulders, rocks and earth hit the bridge supports with a crash like an explosive going off, pounding the bridge ropes and making the planks rock violently under the constant blows of stone against wood. Kepi’s beast reared up and though he flailed, desperate to find a grip, with a final panicked toss his mount tipped him, screaming, into the river. “No!” Taz roared, grasping helplessly after his friend, but with a sudden vicious snap, the ropes on that side of the bridge failed, and Taz too was falling, his beast kicking him away and flinging him into the waters below. “Hold on!” Romi yelled, grabbing the surviving rope on the other side as his beast began to panic, thrashing and screeching in terror. Shoved by Romi’s beast, Karik’s animal lost its footing and slid into the river. Romi threw out his arm for Karik to grab as his mount too was lost—Karik made a jump for it, managing to grab Romi, clinging onto him and the rope in sheer desperation. Chest heaving with fear and exertion, Romi thought at least the two of them were safe, but as the relentless surge of the landslide swept away the supports on the near side, the bridge gave way beneath them. For a heartbeat there was nothing, and then they were tumbling, hands still clasped, into the raging brown torrent below. The icy water knocked all the breath from Romi’s body as they hit it and for a moment or two, he lost all orientation, not knowing whether he was up or down, the sudden loss of sound shocking after the pounding terror of the rocks hitting the bridge above. Now the only sound was his own heart, drumming in his ears. A few precious moments to try and judge which way to head, and then he kicked
as hard as he could to reach light and safety and air. He thought his lungs would explode with the struggle not to breathe as he fought his way back to the surface, but there was something else he had to think about—he still had Karik’s hand in his, and whatever he did, he knew he must not let it go. Too slow, too slow...but just when he thought he must surrender to the aching desperation for air, he breached the surface, heaving in a huge breath into lungs that burned like hellfire, and tugging mercilessly on the hand he still held in a cruel grip. Moments later, Karik’s head rose above the water line, and he gasped desperately for air. Romi didn’t wait for him to get his bearings—there wasn’t time. “Shore!” he yelled, shifting his grip to Karik’s shirt, and using his free arm to start pulling them across the river. Karik rapidly pulled himself together, and began to swim strongly without Romi’s help—which was good because it took all of Romi’s strength to fight the current. The cold stole his breath, and his muscles were seizing up—all he could do was focus on the shore, concentrate, grabbing Karik’s belt or shirt if he seemed to be slipping away. He’d lost two people, he would not lose another to the thrashing foam and the rocks. He got a grip on a low shrub at the waterline and pulled himself half out of the water—as soon as he felt the slightest solidity under his feet, he grabbed for Karik and hauled, dragging the other man bodily onto the rocks. “Move!” he shouted, urging Karik to get all the way out of the freezing river before the cold robbed him of the strength to do so. Finally they were both clinging to the rocks above the waterline, shivering and gasping. “K-Kepi?” Karik asked through chattering teeth. “Gone,” Romi said, only now realising that both his friends must be dead. “Taz too.” There was nothing he could do from here—they had to get away from the river and get dry. He stood, numbed hands gripping a branch of a gnarled tree to pull himself up, and then tried to assess their situation. He couldn’t see Kepi or Taz, but the body of one of the beasts was snagged two hundred yards or so downriver. “I have to get there,” he said, pointing. “Wait for me.” “Not on your l-life,” Karik said, pulling himself up. “Don’t be an idiot, R-Romi. We do it together.” He began to clumsily strip a branch from the tree supporting them, and Romi, realising what he was doing, helped with the task. Then it was a matter of keeping a grip on each other on the slippery rocks, and moving carefully down river to the beast’s corpse. Romi anchored himself on shore and held the branch with both hands, while Karik, being lighter, used the make-shift ‘rope’ to ease himself back into the river, and sliced at the straps to free the packs, tossing them to shore for retrieval later. When he was done, Romi had to drag him back out of the water. “G-Gods, c-cold,” he said, shivering so violently he was barely intelligible. “Sit back there, that rock’s dry and should be warmer.” He helped Karik move up higher, got his shirt off so it could be wrung out and spread on the rocks to dry, and then set some fire sprites around him to speed the process of warming up his companion. As Karik dried off, Romi scanned the river— no sign at all of the other men, or of the beasts. Their situation was bad—the supplies and tools Karik had just risked his life to retrieve would help, but not enough. He squinted up the slope, but couldn’t see Kizinke or Soza, which didn’t surprise him. Had Kizinke deliberately started that landslide? That
was what it had looked like, but Romi hadn’t really been able to see with the angle he’d been watching from. It was too late for it to matter now, but if Kizinke hadn’t started it, then there was a slight hope he and Soza would come back to help. Romi thought it unlikely though—which meant it was just him and Karik now. “W-we should look d-downstream,” Karik said, still shaking hard, rubbing his hands up and down his arms to try and warm himself. “If we can without risking ourselves, yes—but right now, we need to make sure we’re safe before we can help the other two. We don’t even know they survived,” Romi added bleakly. “No. Can we g-get out of this gorge?” “Not here—I think the walls might be easier to climb down river. They looked it as I was crossing the bridge. Are you ready to try?” Karik agreed, though he still looked frozen, and pulled his shirt back on, shuddering as the wet cloth hit his skin. Romi fetched the gear he’d rescued—a bedroll, a bag of rock collecting tools and a small axe, Karik’s personal pack, spare clothes, waterproof cloak and diary, and a rope—and tied them to his back. When Karik protested, Romi gave him a hard look. “If we’re going to survive, we have to conserve our strength—you’re already tired from the river, and I’m bigger than you.” Karik nodded—Romi was glad he wouldn’t have waste energy arguing minor points like this. Karik was too intelligent for that. They began their slow progress, picking their way carefully among the boulders and rocks, using the scrubby bushes and low trees as handholds. Romi was beginning to think his suspicion was to be vindicated as he saw a hiqwiq on the cliff face ahead of them. If a hiqwiq could climb, then there should be footholds for a man. Suddenly Karik stopped, cupped his hands to his mouth, and yelled. “Oy! Taz! Kepi!” “Where?” Romi asked, climbing up beside him, then grinned as he saw his friends—both alive and apparently uninjured—standing on the shore a few hundred yards along the way. He added his bellows to Karik’s until Taz waved to show he’d heard. There was no question now of trying to climb the cliffs. They needed to get down to their teammates—not as easy as it looked, and it took a good twenty minutes to make their way over boulders and scree to where Taz and Kepi waited patiently for them on a stretch of gravel bank. Romi embraced them with delight. “Gods, I thought you were dead,” he said, hugging Kepi. “Ouch, Romi, careful. So did we,” Kepi said, rubbing his arm. “Injuries?” Karik asked. “Bruises. I banged my head,” Taz said, indicating where blood trickled down his cheek from under his hair. Karik insisted on checking them both out, but declared them fine. “We were lucky.” “Huh, lucky my bottom,” Kepi said. “We rescued what we could from Taz’s beast—not much, I’m afraid.”
“Then we need to consolidate,” Romi said. “Karik, you and Taz see if you can scrounge up wood for a fire. Kepi, let’s see what you have.” Kepi’s rescued items were similar to what Karik had retrieved—a bedroll, rope, a few personal possessions of no importance to anyone but their owner—but also, fortunately, Taz’s cloak, a canteen, a billycan, another, better axe and a metal bowl and spoon. They all had their knifes in their belt sheaths too. Little enough, but it might make the difference between surviving or not. Taz’s beast was still caught on rocks, and with Kepi’s help, Romi retrieved the bridle, and most valuable of all, the saddle blanket. Despite the cold and the difficulty, Romi judged it worth it to carve a hunk of meat from the shoulder—who knew when they would come by food this easily again? “Maybe we should try and pull it out, butcher it properly,” Kepi said as Romi shook himself dry. “We can’t carry it, and the corpse will make us vulnerable to predators. We should float it off the rocks, in fact.” With considerable difficulty, they did so, Romi regretting the loss of the food source and the hide, but knowing they had very little option. The meat he’d retrieved could be cooked right now and carried —but they could not manage more. Karik and Taz were returning just as Romi and Kepi came back to what, for want of a better word, they would call their camp. They had got some damp-looking branches—which wasn’t a problem with Romi’s gift—and, he was pleased to note, Karik was carrying greens and fungi in his shirt, obviously thinking along the same lines as Romi, that they needed to collect food while they could. Though it was only mid-morning, Romi decided to cook their finds, so the murky river water could be boiled and cooled, and they could take stock of the situation and warm up. Though Karik had declared Taz not to be concussed, Romi thought he looked a little shaky, and they needed a chance to think about what had happened. The fire cheered them a little, the roast fungi made a welcome snack, and Karik was already muttering about collecting leaves to make a drinkable tea. Of all the people to be marooned with, Karik had to be one of the most useful, with his extensive knowledge of the plants of the region. “Right, we need to plan if we’re going to get out of this,” he said. “I want to know what happened,” Kepi said. “How in hells did that landslide start?” “Later, Kepi,” Romi said firmly. “We need to concentrate on the task in hand, which is survival. Taz, we don’t have the maps—but you know the lay of the land best of all of us. We need to get back to civilisation as fast as we can, with autumn coming. Your advice?” Taz sat back and rubbed his chin. “If we had the beasts...are you going to wait for Kizinke and Soza?” “No, I think we better not count on that,” Romi said heavily, glancing at Karik and getting a minute nod—Karik was the only other one of the group who knew what Kizinke might have done. “You were saying?”
“Well, if we don’t have the beasts, then the terrain is easier along this.” He pointed down river with a twig. “Visiqe is easily seven hundred miles from here, and that’s over mountains. If we’re where I think we are, then it’s six hundred miles to Selnozi and it’s pretty flat going. We can get to the coast by road from there, or overwinter if we have to.” “We can do eighteen miles a day. Five, six weeks by foot then,” Kepi said. “No, longer,” Karik said quietly. “More likely we’ll only do ten to twelve miles on average, which makes it at least eight weeks. We can’t make such good speed without provisions—we’ll have to forage, and build a camp from scratch every night since we can’t carry much.” “Yes, true,” Romi said. “Exhaustion is the enemy, and we need to collect food while we can. Some days we’ll do better than others, but we have to expect there to be days when we make poor progress. We’ve only got the one canteen—we’ll need to make another somehow. Kepi, we’ve lost our bows— do you think you can make a replacement?” “Can do, but slings, spears and fish hooks might be better.” “Fine—anything that doesn’t involve losing any of the knives or axes is fine by me. Now, we could climb out of the gorge, or make camp here and prepare. Karik, your assessment of the resources?” “Not here,” Karik said. “The water is too fast for fishing, and there is little vegetation. I think we should climb.” “Kepi?” Kepi agreed, as did Taz. They would have to take a gamble on which side of the Gavime they would travel on—Karik thought the south side might be marginally richer, and that was enough for Romi. “Right then—we get topside, and make camp. Taz, are you up to a climb?” “I’ll keep up,” his friend said dryly. The boiled water was decanted into the canteen for later, the cooked meat wrapped in leaves and stored in the billycan with the greens Karik had found, and then the pitifully small packs distributed between them. Their first priority would have to be making grass blankets and devising a way of carrying more water—but they could do nothing more here. It was not a straightforward matter, finding a way up the apparently sheer cliffs. Karik led the way, but several times they came to a dead end, and had to backtrack painfully slowly, to try an ascent a few yards further along the wall. Romi took up the rear so he could keep an eye on Kepi and Taz who were less confident climbers than Karik, but he was also watching what Karik was doing. Karik climbed as easily as any hiqwiq, finding foot and hand holds with ease, and if he said there was no way forward, Romi knew that was the simple truth. It took nearly two hours to finally find a path out of the gorge, and they collapsed gratefully at the top. “Gods,” Kepi said with feeling, still gasping with exertion as he flopped onto his back to recover. “Don’t want to do that again.”
“Shouldn’t have to,” Taz said. “We’ll stick to the edge of the cliffs, and shouldn’t need to descend for a bit.” “How far before it widens and slows?” Romi asked. Ordinarily, travelling along the river itself solved many problems they would have to face—water, food, even transport at a pinch—but the depth of the gorge ruled that out. “Not for at least two hundred miles—we’re close to the source here. It’s high and fast for a good way yet.” “Can’t be helped. Right—let’s find a place to make camp and get preparations underway.” They walked a mile towards a stand of conifers, and while there was no running water, there was water to be had from the ground in small pools of run-off. Karik’s spare shirt was used as a filter, and Kepi was set the task of collecting another billycan full of liquid. Romi and Taz began building a shelter while Karik looked for food and grasses that could be dried and used to make blankets. These could be carried with them, unlike the shelter, and with heavy rain likely at any time during the summer, they were an urgent need. Though they had to get south before the cold weather descended—which it would do, frighteningly fast—Romi had already decided to take two days to get ready for the trek. They had no stores and few tools, and about to embark on a journey that would be arduous even for a fully equipped team. On the positive side, the four of them were highly skilled, and all experienced in woodcraft. Like Romi, Karik was well used to living off the land, and had knowledge that might easily save their lives. Kepi was a weapon-maker and knew how to work wood, so their lack of equipment might be redressed a little. Taz was a surveyor and had been working with Pali and Tiro—they had no guide, but Taz knew the maps well, and was their best navigator. On the negative side, they lacked shelter, enough waterproof clothing and a guaranteed food supply, and the terrain, though easier than climbing back through the mountains, was still uncertain and full of dangers. Survival was not assured, but Romi had never been one to admit defeat on the smallest issue, and wasn’t about to start now. He was still a little shaky from the shock of the abrupt events early in the day, and the others would feel the same. All of them nursed bruises, though it was astonishingly fortunate that there were no broken bones or worse injuries from a long fall and being tumbled against rocks. Worried about morale, he forced his team to concentrate just on the task in hand, and on the small successes they already had, while making sure people rested and ate and drank the water available to them. Karik had found berries and nuts—the former a useful snack, the latter portable food for the journey—as well as more fungi, and said there were signs of small rodents which he believed they could trap without too much trouble. He had also begun to make cordage to bind the grass for grass blankets, and was collecting resin for waterproofing the woven water bottles he planned to make. He knew how to make pots, and if they came across a source of clay, he planned to try to make vessels for cooking and storage. A balance needed to be struck between convenience and travelling light, but they had to collect food where they could, and carrying it was a necessity. And finally, he had gathered bark, dry leaves and young conifer
needles, all of which would make decent teas, and which would cheer the spirit even if they added little nutritionally. Romi was all in favour of a good cup of tea, and there could easily be days when that would be all they had to leaven a dull diet. By nightfall, they were in good shape. They had made a leafy bed that would keep them off the damp soil, and a shelter against the threat of rain. They already had a stock of food that would tide them over for a couple of days if nothing else was found, and the prospect of finding more tomorrow. Kepi had already made some simple weapons and Karik had laid a couple of traps, so their diet might well be supplemented by meat the following day. They feasted on the beast meat that night, and set the remains to smoke. Karik had made conifer needle tea, sweetened with a little sap, and they had shared a bowl full—it was surprisingly good, and he assured them it would ward off infection. “Is there anything you won’t stick in your mouth?” Kepi asked, grinning, after Karik had shown them the other ingredients he proposed to try—some of which didn’t look very promising. “That’s a damn personal question,” Taz said as Karik flushed and looked away. “A man’s eating habits are a private matter, Kepi,” Romi said peaceably. “We should turn in. A lot of work to do tomorrow.” “Well, wherever them bastards are tonight, I hope thurls come and infest their loincloths,” Taz said fervently. “And I hope our food chokes them.” “Let’s not think about them,” Romi said. “They’ll answer for their actions, or lack of them, once we get back to Tsikiugui. Keep your minds on the job, gentlemen, and don’t get distracted.” Taz muttered a sheepish agreement. They relieved themselves and then settled down in the snug, and not too uncomfortable shelter, the long log fire throwing heat nicely into it. Though the weather was still mild, the fire would deter predators—Romi had decided a watch was too much of a strain, and would lead to people becoming dangerously overtired. It was a calculated risk, but even Karik thought this wasn’t prime tewi country. He supposed they’d find out the hard way if they were wrong.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Staying Power: 27 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Considering how badly he’d been sleeping lately, and that his first night or two in a strange bed was never restful, Karik was utterly astonished to wake and find the first fingers of dawn pinking up the sky. He had slept not only long, but well, and felt rested, though as he recalled the events of the previous day and the task ahead of them, depression descended again. At least it was still dry, and the sky was free of clouds. He looked around him, and realised Romi was already up, tending the fire. He crawled over the edge of the bed shelter, Kepi and Taz still snoring heartily behind him, and stretched as he stood. Romi put his finger to his lips. “No need to wake them,” he whispered. Karik nodded—he agreed with Romi’s general stance of preserving energy for the long haul—and crouched beside the fire. Romi was using some of their precious water to make tea—making more containers was urgent. “We need to collect clay or grass to make water bottles,” he said. “Or make water skins, if we can take down big enough prey. We need containers for things like the nuts and dried meat, and grass blankets for each of us. I’ll set Kepi and Taz on that today—you and I will concentrate on food and cordage.” Karik could only nod, though every time he thought about the task ahead, his heart sank. Six hundred miles, in such a small group...he knew of no one who had done it. “Now, now,” Romi said, breaking into his thoughts. “We’ve got two months before the weather is likely to be too bad, and I’ve had harder treks.” The man was a mind-speaker, Karik thought wryly. “Not one this long though.” “No, but that’s the only real difference. Think about it, Karik. We have the wherewithal to find our food, supply ourselves, and all four of us are young, fit and experienced. You could hardly pick a better group to do this.” “I don’t think that was Kizinke’s motive,” he muttered. Romi put his finger to his lips again. “Not here,” he said quietly. Karik let it go—after all, it was too late to do anything about it. Instead, he made a short foray, looking for fungi that grew abundantly in the damp soil about the trees—fungi didn’t keep very well, but made a nutritious meal while it was fresh, and they needed to take advantage of it while it was available. As he returned with armfuls of the fungi, Kepi and Taz were already up, and their faces brightened as they saw the bounty he was carrying. “Well done, young Karik,” Taz said, which always amused Karik to hear, since Taz was actually younger than him. For some reason, he’d always been regarded as the infant of the group—and it hadn’t changed now it was just the four of them. He didn’t mind—he enjoyed subverting perceptions.
Romi explained the plan as they ate the fungi, roasted over the fire on thin sticks and washed down with the needle tea. “We’ll be in pairs at all times,” he said, “and return to camp no later than four hours after noon. Taz, I don’t want you moving more than two miles from camp, and stay as close as you can. No stupid risks. Take prey if you can do it easily—don’t chase it, and don’t endanger yourselves to catch it. A pound of honeycomb will be nearly as much use and a lot easier to get.” The two men saluted, rather to Karik’s surprise since it hardly seemed the situation to stand on ceremony, and headed off towards the open grasslands. They would need vast quantities of grass for their various needs, and perhaps would not be able to satisfy their requirements here, but grass blankets would become urgent within a month, so they had to make a start. Romi banked the fire, then shouldered the packs with their food, since they didn’t dare leave it in an empty camp. The fire would deter some raiders, but meat and nuts were prizes, and a hungry animal might risk the man scent and smoke to get it. “Let’s go,” he said. Only one of Karik’s snares had succeeded, but he’d caught a fat weti, which would make a good meal. If they could catch something like that every few days, their chances of surviving would rise considerably. When he said as much to Romi, the captain gave him a wry look. “I rate our chances pretty high anyway, Karik. I’m not denying a weti here and there won’t be welcome, but with you to advise us, I know we won’t starve.” Karik flushed at the praise. “We wouldn’t even be in this mess if it weren’t for me.” “How so?” Romi asked distractedly, dismantling the snare and stowing the dead rodent in their pack. “Kizinke—I know he set that slide deliberately. I think it was because of that argument I had with Soza.” “Hmmm, could be. Although if you were still Soza’s lover and not Kizinke, I’d have that sour bastard with me and let me tell you—” “What?” Romi turned. “I said, if you were still—” “Soza’s lover, yes, I heard. What in hells are you talking about?” Romi frowned. “What are you talking about?” “Romi, I was never Soza’s lover. Where did you get such a stupid idea?” “From him,” Romi said, pulling the pack straps tight in a savage jerk. “He told me more than once.” “But...that’s ridiculous! We weren’t...not even close to being....” Karik shook his head. “You must have misinterpreted him.” “Karik, he warned me off you the day I met you, and we even argued about it in Visiqe when he was trying to....” Romi came to a sudden halt. “Oh...gods. We ruled him out,” he said in a slow
whisper. “Wepizi and I thought he couldn’t have...because we thought he was...oh gods! The boots— those pissing boots! He must have thrown them out of the window!” “The boots?” Karik was a few beats behind Romi in putting the facts together. “It was...him? Soza? How...?” But then other things began to click—Kizinke’s strange attitude, some of Soza’s remarks, the interest in gerot. “Why?” he whispered. “Why would he do that?” Romi went to put a hand on his arm, but aborted the movement. “I’m sorry,” he said quietly. “We don’t know for sure, but...he lied about what you’d said about soldiers. Damn it, I should have realised the other was a lie too.” Karik turned and walked off, rubbing his arms and feeling suddenly cold. Soza had...and then he’d.... Had Kizinke tried to kill them to protect Soza’s reputation or his career—or had it been raw jealousy? His stomach churned violently, and he leaned against a tree, panting through the nausea. Gods, his reactions all made sense now—how could he have been so stupidly blind? Just because he couldn’t believe a friend could.... He started violently as a hand fell on his shoulder. “Easy, easy,” Romi soothed. “I’m sorry,” he repeated. “I never realised—I wouldn’t have said anything.” “Why?” Karik snapped. “Do you think I’m too f-fragile to know who my rapist is?” Romi squeezed his shoulder. “Not at all. It has to be a shock, I know. I wouldn’t have chosen this moment to reveal it to you, that’s all.” “Is there a good t-time to learn s-something like this? What other lies did h-he tell you?” “He said you were going home in Darshek and denigrating our team. I realised later that he’d just been stirring up trouble, but he’d managed it anyway.” Karik slumped against the tree, clutching his stomach which still cramped. His head pounded and he wanted to throw up. “You never insulted my d-daughter?” “No, I swear. I thought...since he’d said you were lovers, that you must have left her mother for him, but he told me she was just a slut and had thrown you over. By that point, I knew better than to take that at face value.” “He said....” Karik shook his head. It was all lies...had he been planning to...right from the start, had he been going to...? He peered up at Romi’s concerned face. “I’m a fool,” he whispered. “No. Someone you had every reason to trust deceived you. This was not your fault, Karik. None of it—not the...the attack...or what Kizinke did. None of it.” He shook Karik a little. “Come on, man, don’t collapse on me—we haven’t the luxury or the time.” Karik almost snapped back angrily at the seemingly harsh words, but a moment’s reflection told him that Romi was speaking the bare truth. “I’m fine,” he said coldly. “Damn it, don’t be like that,” Romi said in exasperation. “I know this is hard for you, but I don’t want you getting lost in it. Don’t let him win.”
“Too late,” Karik muttered, wrenching himself away from the tree. “Come on, we’ve got wuhwork to do.” Romi kept giving him concerned looks, but Karik forced himself to ignore them. Now he knew how thoroughly Soza had fomented ill will between the two of them, he had to revise almost every opinion he’d formed about Romi in those early days, but he couldn’t help the habit of reserve which went back far further than this mission. He had always hidden his hurts, and having his weakness so naked in front of a man he had once despised and come to like so well, was humiliating and almost as painful as the rape itself. He tried hard to concentrate on the immediate problem, to distract him from the horror of the other, and for an hour or so, it worked—at least a little. Their foraging proved fruitful, supplying seeds, nuts and berries which could be dried for transport, all the kind of thing they would want to have on the trail. Meat was the prize, of course, but Karik knew as well as Romi that the effort in catching a large animal, as well the time spent in butchering and smoking it, might not be worth it. “I say if we manage to take down a hiqwiq, that we should stop and prepare it properly. The skin and wool could be invaluable,” Romi said, as they walked back to camp with their prizes. Karik nodded distractedly. Even this short break in activity had sent his mind spinning back to the earlier revelations. “We would never have argued,” he blurted out. Romi stopped and gave him a quizzical look. “All that...shit...was because of him.” “A lot of it, yes,” Romi said quietly. “Some of it was me, some of it was you, most of it was the misunderstandings he fostered. But in the end, he didn’t win, did he?” “Didn’t he?” Karik asked, his words bitter on his tongue. “No, because we managed to become friends anyway. What he did to you makes no difference to me and I don’t think it will make a difference to anyone who matters. If anything, it’s shown me how strong you are. I know you’ll come through this.” “I wish....” “You wish...?” “I wuh-wish I could rem-member...I can...almost...in my d-dreams, his face...but then s-sometimes it’s yours, or N-Netu’s.” He looked at Romi. “I wuh-won’t ever know, will I?” Romi was regretful. “Probably not,” he said kindly. “From what Vyoti told me, you probably remember little bits and pieces, in a confused way, and that’s why you dream, but the real details will always be hidden. Tormenting yourself won’t make them come back. What good would it do if they did?” “I....” He stopped. What indeed would be the good of knowing exactly how it felt to be violated in that way? “Wuh-what will we do about him?” “As soon as we reach Tsikiugui, Wepizi can investigate, and once we get home to Darshian, I will do my very best to have him prosecuted—if not for this, then the landslide. Kizinke too, if we can.
But...if he’s prosecuted, there will be a trial. Do you want that? You’d make a poor witness because of your amnesia, and...details would have to be given.” Karik blanched. “No,” he said without stopping to think. “I c-can’t.” “Then that’s that,” Romi said, still in the same kind tone. “If you ask me, there are other ways of making that bastard pay, and unless I misjudge your uncle Arman, I’d bet he could think of some very nasty ways indeed. But the best way to move on is to do that, Karik. Soza tried to drag you down. Just don’t let him.” “I’ll try.” “Good man. Now, let’s get that resin.” His mind kept skittering away from the task onto his fragmented memories and dreams, and thinking of the harm Soza had managed to do even with a few well-placed lies. But whenever he felt he was losing himself, Romi would touch his arm, or ask a distracting question, even once or twice placing his hand on Karik’s shoulder and giving it a kindly squeeze. How did he know? But he was grateful for the rope Romi gave him to pull himself out of the hell of his misery. The resin tap had provided a rich harvest, and Kepi and Taz had garnered enough grass to make a water bottle and at least one blanket. Romi set to making the blanket with Kepi’s help, while Karik wove the grass into a serviceable vessel which he would then caulk with the resin. Romi asked Taz to watch what Karik was doing and to learn—he was insistent that they all become proficient in anything the others could teach, and with that idea, Karik had no quarrel. Though the weather wasn’t cold, it was often wet at this time of year, and the wool and grass blankets would provide shelter if they were caught out in the open, especially if one side was waterproofed with resin. As it got colder, they would need to make coats out of hides for the two of them without cloaks. Even the little weti skin would serve its purpose, and so it was scraped, stretched and carefully smoked—supple leather had a multitude of uses and when they had so little, they could not afford to discard anything at this point. There were a dozen things to be done, and it seemed to Karik that Romi was deliberately keeping up the pace, so no one had time to stop and become morose—least of all, him. He didn’t mind at all, though it was only distracting himself from the problem. By nightfall, they had taken stock, and though Romi had suggested they could take another day, Taz and Kepi both felt they could move on. Karik agreed—they had probably exhausted the easy foraging in the immediate area, and even staying another day did not guarantee they would find more. They had food for three days, serviceable shelter, and enough water to last them two days at a pinch, though that was the least of their worries since there were numerous small streams and pools all through the region—the difficulty would be staying dry, not becoming dehydrated. “I’m proposing that we walk no more than six hours a day, and preferably five,” Romi said. “If we’ve got plenty of food and water, we can do more than that, but we’ll need a lot of fuel, and a lot of rest. Slow and steady will be better in the end, don’t you think?” “Agreed,” Karik said. “If we had beasts, it would be different.”
“If we had beasts, we wouldn’t be in this pissing mess,” Taz said sardonically. “Well, we don’t, so there’s no point in complaining,” Romi pointed out. “This isn’t going to be easy, gentlemen, and I fancy we’ll all be a little lighter by the time we reach Selnozi, but this can be done. The key is to be honest with each other—I don’t want to find anyone concealing an injury, or pushing themselves just to keep up when they’re exhausted. You can leave your manly pride right here, right now,” he said, tapping the ground with a stick for emphasis. “If you get a blister, we stop and treat it before it becomes a serious wound. Sprains, cuts, bruises—same thing. I don’t want any nasty surprises. We’ve got two months before there’s any risk of snow, and a good two or three weeks after that before it’ll become impossible to travel without assistance. By then we will be in Selnozi, I know it. We can afford to rest, to deal with big game or injuries. What will slow us down is neglect and stupidity. Each of you makes the survival of the others possible, I can’t say that often enough—so each of us has a duty to look after our own health, and that of the others. Karik, you’re our medic. You have absolute veto over us moving on, and you can order us to stop anytime. Is that clear?” “Yes, I understand.” “Good,” Romi said with a smile. “Karik’s Ma and his uncle are two of the finest healers in the land, so you lads are in good hands, having someone trained by them as your personal physician.” “So if he’s our personal healer, can you be our welcome girl?” Kepi asked, fluttering his eyelashes in a ludicrous fashion, which make Taz snicker helplessly, and even Karik couldn’t resist a grin. “Soldier, a good officer will sacrifice a lot for his men but...man, you snore. I could never do it,” Romi said in a mock-sorrowful fashion, then he clapped his friend on the shoulder. “But I’m more than happy to try and capture a hiqwiq, if you’re desperate.” Taz became uncontrollable at that point, and Karik had to slap him on the back to let him get his breath back. “Now, if you’re all finished disgracing the uniform, we should get some sleep.” The other two began to deal with the fire and prepare everything for the night. Karik went with Romi to the latrine, using Romi’s fire sprite to guide his way. “Since I don’t have a uniform, does that mean I can disgrace myself anytime I want?” he asked as they relieved their bladders. Romi did his trousers up and gave him an amused look. “If that makes you happy, you go ahead. Somehow, I can’t see it happening.” “Why do they salute you? I mean, it’s just you and them.” “Habit, partly. Also because discipline can save our lives and they know it. I like to think it’s a sign of mutual respect too. I’m not expecting you to do it.” “Good,” Karik said. They began to walk back to the campsite. “But I guess you want to treat me the same as them.” “I would anyway, and I expect you to continue to recognise my position. It was important before— it’s critical now. You know why.” Karik did, and had no problem with it. “You’re good at this,” he said. “I trust you to get us home.”
Romi stopped dead and looked at him, a little open-mouthed in surprise. “That...is the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me. Thank you.” “You’re welcome. Don’t prove me wrong.” “I swear by my honour that I won’t. I promised your uncle Arman I’d get you home in one piece and I will.” Karik was surprised how happy his simple declaration had made Romi—his previous snotty attitude must have really hurt, he realised, and he could only blame Soza for some of that. He’d just assumed that Romi had a hide like a tewi and didn’t care what Karik said to him. It seemed the real arse all along had been himself, not Romi. And with that depressing thought, he crawled into the shelter and made himself comfortable for the night.
~~~~~~~~ He came awake with a sense of horror so profound that he literally could not breathe, though he could not even remember the nightmare that had brought it on. His limbs were paralysed, his lungs frozen—he could make not the slightest sound. I’m dying, and no one will know. His mind seized by his fright, he could sense nothing around him but the thumping of his panicking heart—all he could think was that he couldn’t breathe and that death had come for him. “Karik...Karik!” He was shaken roughly, then rolled on his back, his jaw held firmly. “Karik, wake up, you’re safe. You’re safe.” He managed to force his eyes open. There was a flame just in front of him—it took a moment or two to realise what it was, and then that he was in fact breathing again in great painful gasps. The terrifying paralysis immediately became uncontrollable shivering, leaving him just as helpless as before. The flame moved, and then he found himself being held in a careful embrace. “You’re safe, calm down,” Romi whispered, right against his ear. “Just take it gently, Karik. This will pass.” The soothing words at first had no effect as he shuddered so hard it actually hurt, but then the warmth of the other man’s body, the strength of his arms and Romi’s calm, even voice slowly helped the vicious tremors to ease, and he got his breathing a little under his control again. He felt sick to his stomach, and his head pounded from the fright. “I-I’m all r-right nuh-now.” His teeth chattered and he wondered if Romi could understand him between that and his stupid stutter. “Yes, I’m sure you are. Just relax a little. Hold your breath, try not to breathe so fast. Concentrate on my hand.” His....oh. Romi had trapped Karik’s fingers in his own big hand, warming them. Karik felt so cold. He did as Romi said, concentrating on the warmth of Romi’s hand on his own, the calluses against his skin, and as he did so, his breathing slowed even more. “Better.” Romi’s voice was a low rumble in his chest. “Think you can sleep?”
“T-Try.” “Good. Try to relax. I’ve got you.” Karik expected Romi to release him now he was calm, but he didn’t. He kept his arm loosely around Karik as he settled down again, his hand still wrapped carefully around Karik’s. Karik thought about protesting that he was fine, then thought about what would happen if he had another night terror, and decided his manly pride was less important than a good night’s rest and the feeling of absolute safety that Romi somehow managed to give him. “Thank you,” he whispered. “You’re welcome. Sleep well.” And with that, feeling both foolish and less depressed, he managed to do just that.
~~~~~~~~ Romi lay stock still in the darkness, willing his rapidly beating heart to slow, and shamelessly holding onto Karik’s hand like a talisman. Gods—if he had not woken...if he had not realised Karik had stopped breathing and was choking...would Karik have died then? Would he have woken and found him a stone cold corpse, Romi having failed him just hours after Karik had so honestly expressed his trust? He shivered at the thought. He’d never seen anything like it—the way Karik had been utterly paralysed, his mouth issuing the most ghastly sounds. And this was a night terror? Surely that was Romi’s fault, for forcing knowledge onto the man before he was ready for it, and in the worst possible circumstances. If Karik had died tonight, his death would have been on Romi’s head, no question. He settled down, Karik’s body reassuringly warm and firm against him, and willing himself not to respond as he would instinctively, if it were Daiso. Too close...too damn close. He would not lose Karik to this. He was sure Soza’s motive for the rape—and he was damn certain Soza was the culprit now he looked on it with unblinkered vision—had been partly to do with getting back at Romi himself. It surely was no coincidence that it had occurred after Karik had thrown his support behind Romi’s decisions on the trail, and the possessive way the man had behaved at the academy.... Yes, it all fit. Damn it! He should have told pissing Lord Arman where they could shove their useless team member. He’d known all along it had been a bad idea, and now four of his team had been badly hurt, all on account of this one man. That no one had died at the river was pure luck, because that had been a deliberate attempt at murder. Kizinke’s motives were less clear, but they had to have something to do with Soza. Romi was filled with a burning need to get back to Tsikiugui and bring the two of them to justice. He rested his cheek against the back of Karik’s head, repressing a pang of loneliness as he remembered lying with Daiso just this way after making love. Kepi’s joke that afternoon had only been half in jest—they’d all been deprived of sexual comfort for such a long time, Kepi longer than most.
His friend still deeply missed his faithless wife, and loved her despite the divorce. This time would put a great strain on him—a strain on them all. At least—at last—the last shred of mistrust and hostility between him and Karik had gone, as he had wanted for weeks now. Months even. The more he’d seen of the essential decency of the man, the more it had grated that Karik despised him for his imaginary crimes. Now Karik had had the proof of his innocence, they could perhaps build a real friendship. Romi smiled ruefully to himself in the darkness. If someone had told him in Darshek that he would want to befriend their arrogant little Prij, he’d have laughed in their faces. “I’ll get you home, Karik,” he whispered in a promise to his sleeping companion. He had made a vow to do so—and he always kept his promises.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Staying Power: 28 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ It was drizzling when Karik woke, but their shelter, the remains of the fire, and most important of all, Romi’s strong arm around him, meant he was still warm and dry—though he felt like a complete idiot. He had never had an experience like that before but he’d reacted like a child, letting Romi comfort him. But as he remembered the gentle kindness, he couldn’t help but be warmed inside too. It had been a generous act. If anything had justified his trust in their captain, that had—over the last few weeks, Karik had been forced repeatedly to expose his vulnerable underbelly, and not once had Romi used that against him. It wasn’t just the act of a good team leader, or officer—it had been the behaviour of a friend, yet again. And yet again, Karik reviewed the harsh things he had said and thought since they’d left Urshek, and cursed his childishness. He eased himself out of the shelter, found one of the cloaks that was stored along side his sleeping team-mates, and set about getting the fire built up and water boiling. He decided the berries and some of the nuts would make a good breakfast—the smoked meat would be better later in the day when it might provide a morale boost as well as the energy. “Ah, good man.” He looked up—Romi was sheltering under a blanket and smiling at him. “You slept well.” A statement, not a question. “Yes. Sorry for the trouble I’m causing you.” “All part of the service, and besides, it’s no trouble. Ready to start the tea?” And with that, Romi elegantly dismissed his embarrassment, something else for which Karik was in his debt. The drizzle stopped soon enough, but there was likely to be more rain. Karik was already making a little store of grease for renewing the waterproofing on their boots, keeping it in a small rough wooden bowl Kepi had quickly fashioned as they had sat eating supper the night before. But two of them had no cloaks—Romi had put small slits in the two blankets they had, to make them wearable, and the saddle blanket would cover one man’s head in a downpour. The other would have to make do with a makeshift hat made from the weti skin—Karik would need to weave a better one as soon as the materials became available. They didn’t linger over breakfast. “Now, gentlemen, we’ve been used to the beasts doing the work for us, so I don’t want to push too hard today. Take it easy, we’ll reassess at noon how things are going. Keep your eyes and ears open, and don’t forget to collect easy food. Karik, you’ve got the best eye, if you see something worth stopping to get, speak up.” As they distributed the packs, Karik extracted his diary—it was only a month old, the previous one now on its way back to Tsikiugui with the others. “What are you going to do with that?” Romi asked.
“Leave it behind. We don’t need the weight.” Romi asked for Karik to hand it to him, and then he hefted it. “I don’t think this will make any difference.” He leafed casually through the pages. “You’ve made a lot of notes—shame to lose them.” “But—” Romi handed it back to him. “Bring it. Be our chronicler. If anything were to happen to us, it would be our memorial. But when we get home safe, it can be a record of what we’ve achieved, for our families, and Darshian.” Karik’s eyebrows rose at the solemn pronouncement, but then Romi grinned. “Besides, we need some way of keeping track of time. We may as well mark in this book as on a bit of wood. If you don’t want the burden, I’ll carry it.” Karik said no, he’d manage, though he was rather bemused by Romi’s attitude. Then they were on their way. Romi was right of course—they’d all become hardened over the course of the expedition, but letting a beast do the walking was different from using one’s own legs. The damp ground was unpleasant to cover, and intermittent showers made things miserable. The only blessing was that the terrain was flat, and likely to be all the way to Selnozi, provided they stayed close to the river. They had little choice about that anyway, not having maps—the river was the one sure geographic feature they could follow. Unfortunately, it meant a longer trip because the river meandered a bit, but if they got lost in this country, they’d end up dead. Despite the weather and being unused to the walking, it wasn’t as hard as it could be. That was largely down to Romi keeping the pace deliberately gentle. Karik wondered aloud if he was making an accommodation for Karik’s shorter legs, which earned him a wry look. “No, oh proud healer—it’s so we don’t exhaust ourselves, and we have energy to keep an eye out for food. Tired men aren’t very observant, and I’d gladly sacrifice a mile or two a day if we can be sure of getting enough to eat.” Karik was surprised just how much thought Romi had given the entire subject—in his own way, the captain was as skilled as Karik’s Pa in planning a journey, and if the men were his beasts, he knew just as much about getting the best out of them. He shuddered to think what their situation would have been if Romi had died in the landslide—if any one of them had. By noon, the weather had cleared, and they were all in good spirits. More berries, nuts and fungi had been collected and Taz, exploring rotten wood as the fire was set going, found some fat grubs which were quickly roasted and eaten with relish. “No oroj crickets in Andon, it’s very sad,” Kepi said, smacking his lips. “I like a good roast cricket.” “No, but they have some large insects and beetles—the grubs are the prize,” Karik said. “Now’s a good time for them—they’ll be nice and big, ready to turn into the adults.” “Just the information we need,” Romi said, clapping Karik on the shoulder. “Right, we’ve done about seven miles this morning. We’ll walk another three hours or until we spot a perfect campsite. Everyone’s feet holding up?” He wasn’t content just to be told—feet had to be physically removed from boots and checked before he was satisfied. Kei would have been proud of him, Karik thought with
a smile. At least after all these months, their boots were well broken in. He hoped they would last out the journey. They made camp mid-afternoon, and once a shelter had been made, they were set foraging again. Once again, they had good fortune, and more of the grubs were found, as well as more nuts. Snares were set, taps for sugar sap set up, and Karik used the weti skin to form the basis of a woven hat for Romi. When he was done, he handed it to the captain. “How do I look?” Romi said, putting the basketlike object on his head. Taz grinned. “Like a street performer.” “Thanks very much, soldier,” Romi said, pulling a face. “But it’s better than the feel of rain on my head or trying to keep the skin in place—thanks, Karik. Good job. Can you make one for Kepi?” “Of course—we just need another skin.” “All in good time.” The cloaks and blankets were spread to dry over the shelter’s ribs, under the branches which would keep the worst of any rain off. There was no argument with Romi’s insistence on an early night—it had been easier than expected, but Karik was still damn tired. As he got settled, he couldn’t help be afraid of what the night would bring—would his mind ambush him again? He jumped a little as Romi’s arm came around him. “Do you mind? I’d feel easier if....” “No,” Karik whispered back. “Thank you.” “Part of the service,” Romi said quietly. “Like the hat.” Karik rather thought saving his life was a bigger favour than keeping a braid dry, but he wouldn’t quibble. He remembered another man, another time when he was afraid in the night, and how that brave heart had anchored him to life and kept him safe. Arman had chosen well, he thought sleepily. Must remember to thank him....
~~~~~~~~ After the first week, Romi felt they were in good shape—making fair speed, no one was becoming exhausted, and foraging was going well. But by the second week, he was becoming concerned at the loss of condition, and by the third, he called a halt for three days. He’d discussed it privately with Karik the night before. “Kepi’s losing too much weight,” he’d said, confessing his worries to their medic. “We all are—you too,” Karik had said, not sparing his feelings. “We need more meat, and we need to make bread, which means seeds—things that take time to collect, but that will give us the real energy. But can we afford to stop?” “We can’t afford not to.” And so he’d announced they would be halting for as many days as it took to take down at least one large game animal, and for them to collect starchy food, tree sap and honey. It was none too soon, he realised when they’d stopped, seeing how Kepi’s mood immediately improved,
and how the stress in Taz’s face eased. Obviously thinking they were managing fine had been nothing more than a delusion. Strangely, Karik was coping best of them all, perhaps because he had the most experience of working on his own, so he was less affected by the loneliness. Romi was starting to use the man to bolster his own spirits, to distract him from the ache of tired muscles, and to maintain interest in the unceasing journey. It was like Karik could always find something new in the terrain, something to talk and theorise about. Romi felt like he was receiving an education all over again. He and Taz set themselves the task of taking down big game—there were occasionally herds of doigs now, and many long-necked tevinu in the grasslands, though they were swift and wary prey, and up to now, Romi had not even bothered to hunt them. But now the need was urgent, so armed with spears and Kepi’s bows, they set out. On their very first day, they succeeded in taking down a goodsized buck tevinu. Romi didn’t wait to butcher it properly, carving out tender belly flesh to throw on the fire for fast cooking. They ate it half raw, blood streaming down their chins. Romi swore he could see sunken cheeks begin to fill out as he watched them eat. How he could not have seen his people were starving? With stomachs full of tevinu meat washed down with sweet tea, the task of skinning, butchering and smoking the animal was easy. The hide would not be big enough on its own to make a coat, but now he was determined to take at least one more large animal before they started moving. It took them another two days to get another tevinu, and it was not an easy kill—Taz was injured by one of the antlers before they managed to take it down, but fortunately it wasn’t a serious hurt and Karik dealt with it easily. It just meant that taking another couple of days to allow the meat to smoke and more foraging to occur, allowed Taz to recover as well. Karik had collected a good deal of grass and plant seed and had been milling it into flour. The ecstasy on Kepi’s face when Karik proudly presented them with honey cakes for breakfast was heartbreaking. Such simple things could make the difference between life and death on this journey, and Romi felt his own eyes moisten a little as he thought about eating honey cakes with his Ma, and how much he wanted to see her again before he died. The flour wouldn’t keep well, so they gorged while they could on camp bread, honey and the meat. Nuts were becoming more abundant as autumn approached—the time of harvest back home, Romi realised. The bounty would not be available forever and they had to collect what they could even if carrying it made walking more difficult for a while. The five-day break did them a world of good. The hollows under eyes and in their cheeks filled out. Aching legs began to feel normal again, and repairing clothes, boots and making small tools, would all help them travel more easily. They took time to wash in the small stream near their campsite as well, and get their clothes properly clean. Karik finally perfected his hat making, and now both Kepi and Romi had comfortable, light, waterproof hats which would make rainy weather much more tolerable. Just getting several good nights’ sleep without too much exertion during the day had improved Kepi’s low mood considerably.
Romi explained his revised plans the last night around the campfire. “I suggest now we walk for a week, stop for two days, and so on. We need to take large game, despite the trouble. We still have time in hand—we’re nearly half way there, and we still have well over a month and a half before there’s any risk of snow. I think we’ll make better speed if we’re better fed—thoughts?” “Only that perhaps we should only walk until noon, rather than try and put another two or three hours in,” Karik said quietly. “Two hours’ extra foraging will garner us more things like seeds and honey, even if we’re not hunting. Gives us more time for snares to work.” “Agreed—good, Karik. Kepi? Taz?” “Agreed,” they both said. “Good. I’m sorry, men. I should have stopped before now.” “Come on, Romi, it’s not like you’ve got a knife in our backs,” Taz protested. “We all should have realised we needed to stop. I just want to get home, is all.” “Though why I should bother, I don’t know. It’s not like I have a home any more,” Kepi said bitterly, then got to his feet and pulled a brand from the fire. “Excuse me.” He walked off into the darkness, the lit stick his only light. Taz gave Romi a worried look. “He tries, but he can’t get Sera out of his mind.” “I’ll go speak to him,” Romi said. He couldn’t have people wandering around in the dark, especially not depressed ones. Kepi hadn’t gone far—he was leaning against a tree, staring up into the night sky. “I miss her,” he said in a low voice. “If she’d just given me a chance. I’d have left the army for her—if she’d just waited...waited for me....” He began to weep quietly, tears trickling down his stricken face. “No one cares for me now.” Romi set his fire sprite over their heads, took the brand from Kepi’s hand and extinguished it, then took his friend into a firm embrace. “I know it’s hard,” he said. “She wasn’t right for you, if she wouldn’t wait for you—you were a soldier when you married, she’s the daughter of a soldier. She knew what she was getting into.” “I miss her,” Kepi whispered into his shoulder. “I still love her so much.” “I know, I know,” he said gently. “But it’s not true to say no one cares about you. You’re Taz’s best friend, and a good one of mine—what about Karik? Do you think he doesn’t care?” “He’s your friend.” “He’s a friend to us all, as you are. Come on, man—look at what you have, not what you’ve lost.” Kepi sniffed and straightened up. Romi looked him in the eye. “You know what I think you and Taz should do? Transfer to Temshek. You could work with Weapon Master Sarte, and we can always use surveyors out our way. If not Temshek, somewhere else. The problem is that where you are now, everything reminds you of her.” “Temshek?” Kepi said, swallowing a sob. “Would you mind?”
“Not a bit—even if I wasn’t there, it’s still a good barracks. Very friendly, and it’s a lovely place to live. Our colonel’s a very good man too. Get out of Oshek, it’s a dead end.” Kepi nodded, and wiped his eyes with his handkerchief. “Sorry,” he muttered. “Don’t be an idiot, Kepi. Another day it might be me crying over Daiso. Let us help you.” Kepi sniffed. “All right. Thanks, Romi. I just can’t help thinking about it, you know—walking—it seems to keep coming back.” “I know what you mean. Now here’s a plan—you’ve been walking with Taz. How about you swap him for Karik for a bit, give you something new to talk about?” “Won’t you mind?” “I’ll struggle on, soldier,” Romi said dryly, which made Kepi smile. “You might learn more about fungi than you ever had a desire to, but I think you and he will get on all right. It’s worth a try.” “Then I will. Thanks.” He sniffed again. “Better get back.” “Yes. Let’s get a good night’s sleep, and take it easy tomorrow.” They walked back to the campsite, Romi’s hand on Kepi’s shoulder. Taz stood. “You all right?” “I will be,” Kepi said bravely. “Come on, let’s water the trees.” Karik watched them walk off in silence, then stood and gave Romi a quizzical look. “He’ll be fine,” Romi said, keeping his voice low. “But I need a favour—will you walk with him instead of me for a few days? He needs something to snap him out of old patterns of thinking—he keeps grinding over the divorce, and he needs a distraction. Will you be that for him?” “Me? He has no interest in my work.” Romi put his hand on Karik’s shoulder. “Then make him interested. Please?” “I’ll try.” “Thank you. He thinks no one gives a damn about him. We have to prove him wrong.” “I can do that,” Karik said, his expression determined. “He’s a good man, Romi.” “Yes, he is, and so are you.” He gave Karik’s shoulder a squeeze. “I really can’t do this without help.” “Fortunately, you don’t have to,” Karik said with a sudden smile. “We’re a team, remember?” “Yes, we really are. Thanks, Karik.” That night, his arm around Karik as they had got into the habit of, Romi couldn’t help his own little fit of depression. He really felt for Kepi’s situation—to think he had found his soul mate, to plan a life together, a family together, and to have it all taken away. And worse, to see another man walk away with the prize. His arm tightened involuntarily in his anger. Daiso had been his prize, and Romi had let him slip away for want of a little attention. He had no one to blame but himself. It hadn’t been his job, like it had been for Kepi—it had been him, only him. He indulged his self-pity for a little bit, and pretended, as he sometimes did rather guiltily, that he was holding Dai. Then he firmly made
himself stop. He couldn’t afford to give in to his own demons, and he couldn’t let Kepi be lost to his. He had to keep them together until they were all safe. Nothing else was acceptable.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Staying Power: 29 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Karik was apprehensive about carrying out Romi’s request, though refusing had never occurred to him. He wasn’t really used to being the support for someone in Kepi’s situation, though, as he thought about it, that was perhaps a good thing. Kepi assumed—correctly—that Karik really would have no idea about his pain, and so never mentioned his marriage. Instead, they talked as they put the miles behind them, about Kepi’s parents—his father was a carpenter, his mother a glassmaker—and how Kepi had dithered for a year or more about which trade he wanted to follow. “Then the army gave me a way of doing what I wanted to do,” he said. “Blow things up?” Karik asked. “Exactly,” Kepi said, grinning. Having so little in common with the man made Karik search for things they could talk about. He found a surprising amount, actually—cart building, useful woods for different purposes, the best composition of casings for explosives, and treatments for burns. Kepi was a sound person. Not quite as broad in his interests as Romi, nor as quick to catch onto things, but not a stupid man by any means. He would make any woman a kind and devoted husband. Romi’s revised plan went better with them, though it was still hard work. Karik had been correct— by stopping earlier, they did find more food and became less tired, and their improved condition meant they probably covered the same number of miles per day. On the night of the ancestors, they had enough food to make a little feast for their quiet celebration, and though they were tired and thoughts of home made them sad, their spirit was good and their determination undiminished, thanks in no small part to Romi’s endless encouragement and concern. They would not have got this far without that. The smoked tevinu lasted a week, and then Romi called a halt again. Karik and Kepi began to collect seed and nuts around the camp, and Taz and Romi—their best hunters—went out looking for game. They were gone all day, so long that Karik began to worry, but finally, near to dusk, they returned, muddy and exhausted, though with a very fine buck tevinu around Romi’s shoulders. Kepi and Taz relieved him of it so they could take it away and butcher it, and then the captain slumped onto a log. “What happened?” Karik asked, offering him some sweet tea—they’d found a huge beehive, and would feast on honeycomb that night. “Damn thing ran into a swamp with my arrow in its side. We had to chase it through the pissing reeds and mud.” He rubbed his calf distractedly and winced. “Are you hurt?” “No...something bit me. Bug or something. It’s nothing.”
“Let me look,” Karik ordered, and insisted on Romi rolling up his trouser leg, much to Romi’s tired irritation—Karik had never seen him look so exhausted before. He was glad he’d insisted. “Gods—look at that.” “What? Yuck, get off, you bastard.” He made to brush the insect off his leg, but Karik stopped him. “Wait, damn it! You don’t want to leave half of it behind.” He found his dissecting tweezers, heated them up in the fire and then used them to grip the bug’s head to ease it off Romi’s leg and whisk it to the ground, where he quickly squashed it. Then he looked carefully at the bite site—damn, there was still something in there. “I need to clean this—I need to use the knife.” Romi looked nauseated. “Just do it,” he snapped, then turned his head away. Karik heated his knife and then delicately probed the wound to remove the insect mouthparts. Romi hissed in pain but made no other sound. “Sorry,” Karik murmured, washing the leg with boiled water. “I need to put a herb binding on it.” Romi endured his ministrations impatiently, then stalked off to wash off his hands and clothes in the stream. Karik hadn’t seen him so bad tempered in weeks—and couldn’t help but worry. He continued to worry as Romi seemed unusually tired all that evening, and crawled into the shelter to sleep without a word to anyone. Karik was a little relieved when Romi’s arm came around him as usual, but he still reviewed all he knew about marsh bugs, and wondering how much more toxic the Andonese ones were. Some species in Darshian were very mildly poisonous, causing painful local swelling around the bite. The real risk was from leaving the mouthparts in, which led to infection. Though Karik had dealt with that in the approved manner, he knew of no marsh bug so large in Darshian, nor what effect their bites had. The insects of Andon were little studied, and those of the north completely unknown, a lack which Karik now very much regretted. He woke, instantly aware that something was wrong. He lay still for a moment, trying to work out if it was something he had dreamed again, or if it was an external threat—then he realised what it was. Romi was shivering, and when Karik touched his hand, found it was ice cold. He rolled over. “Romi, wake up.” No response, even when he was shaken. Karik pushed on Taz’s arm. “Taz, Romi’s sick. We need to build up the fire and get some light.” Taz responded quickly and was outside the shelter doing what Karik asked in moments. Kepi sat on Romi’s other side. “What’s wrong?” “Not sure. I need light.” All that was available was a flickering brand from the fire, but that was enough to confirm Karik’s fear—Romi’s leg was tight and swollen. “Gods,” Kepi said, his eyes growing large in horror at the sight. “What is it? And can you fix it?” “Marsh bug bite. And I don’t know.” There was no treatment known for marsh bug toxin—none was needed, since it was more an irritant than anything. But the treatment for other, more serious
poisons was simply to support the patient until their body healed on its own. Survival depended on the patient’s ability to withstand the symptoms—there were no antidotes that Karik knew of, and certainly none he had access to. Until dawn, all they could do was make Romi comfortable, and keep him warm, for his temperature was dangerously low. They removed his trousers and boots, then got a wool blanket under him, and a grass blanket over him. Karik and Taz bundled close to let their body heat help him, and then it was just a matter until daylight gave them more options. He was worse by then—much worse. His breathing rattled, and his colour was very poor. “We need to sit him up,” Karik ordered. The shelter was given over to Romi’s comfort, and he was propped up, wrapped in all their wool blankets, with the fire banked up close to him. He was only semi-conscious, barely responding even to pinches, and his lips were grey, indicating his heart wasn’t working properly. Even with the facilities of the academy infirmary, Karik’s options would have been limited, and here, he had almost nothing he could offer by way of treatment. That didn’t mean he wouldn’t try. “Kepi, in my pack there are some hide wallets—bring them to me? Taz, we need fresh, clean water, and honey. If you can collect gezin root where the plant is no longer flowering, then we can roast it and slice it up. And the fire needs to be kept going. I’m going to sit with him and keep him warm. Hurry, please.” At least with soldiers he didn’t have to argue about the need to follow orders, and Kepi and Taz quickly and efficiently did as he asked. He only took the time he needed to relieve his bladder, then he climbed in behind Romi and supported the man against him. Romi was so cold, it was terrifying, and the shivering just wouldn’t stop, no matter how many blankets they put on him, or how high the fire was. The only drugs Karik could try were the lichens he had been collecting, which the Andonese used as a general tonic in illness, honey for the energy, and roasted gezin root which was reported to be good for heart and circulatory diseases, but which was completely untested. Even that reputation was garnered from just a couple of interviews Karik had conducted, and for all he knew, the root was useless. But they had to try. Kepi made up a quantity of the lichen tea, and set it in the metal bowl to cool. Karik transferred it into a wooden cup, and then began the painfully slow process of helping Romi sip it, speaking quietly to him, encouraging him. Some ran out of Romi’s slack mouth, but he swallowed some, though with little effect. Karik mashed up a little of the roast root with honey and fed a few spoonfuls to Romi, but it was just as useless as the tea in relieving his symptoms. The effort of making him swallow seemed barely worth it. Kepi and Taz left Karik to nurse Romi, taking on all the other duties for themselves. It was obvious that the shelter would be needed for some time for Romi’s care, so they extended it, so the fire was enclosed on two sides. Karik and Romi would share the old one, and Kepi and Taz would manage with the other, though without the blankets, it would be a less comfortable bed. Foraging still needed to be done, though Karik sternly warned them about the marsh bugs and about walking through still water without having the legs of their trousers tied tight around the tops of their boots. Marsh bugs weren’t
the only problem they might encounter that way, and if another of their party fell ill, it would be fatal for all of them. Romi’s condition had deteriorated at a terrifying rate. From being a fit, very strong young man, he now resembled an octogenarian in his final illness, and his lungs rattled in a frightening fashion. His eyes were open sometimes, though only as mere slits, but as Karik did his best to reassure him, he had no way of knowing if Romi could hear him. With so little in the way of medicine to offer, the only other tool a healer had was reassurance and confidence. Karik gave it his all, but it had no effect. Around noon, Romi stopped shivering, and his eyes closed. “Romi, wake up.” Karik shook him desperately. “Romi!” He slapped the sick man’s face. “Damn you! Wake up!” Panic-stricken, Karik kept up the violent stimulation, as Kepi and Taz watched, kneeling outside the shelter. “Please, gods, please, Romi. Wake up!” As he went to slap Romi’s face again, a hand reached across to restrain him. “Don’t, Karik. He’s dying.” He looked into Taz’s grief-stricken eyes. “No,” Karik whispered. “I won’t let him.” He yanked his hand free, and delivered the stinging blow to Romi’s face. “You can’t die on me! Wake up, Romi. We need you, wake up! Please, help me, Kepi, Taz—please, we can’t give up.” Hesitantly, Kepi shook Romi’s still body, though Taz refused. “Just talk to him. Shout at him. Get through to this stubborn bastard!” But nothing they did brought the least response, and finally Kepi sat back on his heels and shook his head. “Stop it, Karik. Let him pass in peace.” “But—” “Kepi’s right,” Taz said firmly, tears streaking his face. “Leave him some dignity, Karik. Let him rest.” Karik looked at Romi’s grey colour and his complete lack of movement, listened to the rattling breaths issuing through slack lips, and knew in his heart he was looking at a dying man. “I can’t...I can’t l-leave him.” “No. Stay with him...we’ll, uh, look after things.” Taz reached over and laid a hand on his captain’s forehead. “Safe journey, my friend.” Kepi did the same, and then stood up, unashamedly weeping. “Guide him peacefully, Karik. He’d want that.” He’d want to live, Karik thought desperately, but he nodded, his eyes too blurred with tears to even see clearly. “I won’t leave him. I can’t.” “No, I know.” Taz stood too, and then together, they solemnly saluted. “Uh...do you want us to wait with you?” Karik mutely shook his head—there was no point in them all sitting there—so they walked away and left the dying man and his companion in peace, death waiting to claim Romi on this bright, and oh so ironically beautiful day.
Karik gathered Romi into his arms. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I’m so sorry for all the things I said. Please don’t die, I won’t ever be rude again, I promise.” But Romi lay still as a corpse, and if he’d heard the words, there was no response. Kepi and Taz gave him privacy all afternoon, only checking if he needed anything, offering him words of comfort and assuring him that he was doing the best thing for Romi. At Karik’s request, Taz brought Karik’s diary to him so he could make a brief record, enough so that there would be something for Romi’s family should none of them survive. Karik felt there should be a record of this time, however painful it was to write, and however hard it was to see the paper for the tears in his eyes. After that, all he could do was hold his friend, stroking his hair and talking to him, just nonsense talk, really, trying to forget the man he held was going to die. Romi never moved, and his breathing hardly changed. Once or twice, Karik thought it had actually stopped, but as he listened and waited, his heart in his throat, it restarted, the marsh bug toxin refusing to loose its hold or finish Romi off. Night fell, and Romi still lingered, his condition unchanged. It could go on for days—he’d seen it with his mother’s patients, when a person, falling into a coma, hovered on the brink of death after a long illness. One thing he had never seen though, was anyone waking from a coma this deep. He couldn’t lie to himself there was any chance here. He finally had to get up and relieve himself again, though when Kepi pressed him to some food, he was too grief-stricken to eat. Neither of them asked how Romi was—they could see that for themselves, but when Karik told them this could take a while, Kepi put his hand on Karik’s shoulder. “Let him take his time. I know he will be comforted by your presence. Just let us know if you need anything.” “I’ll, uh, build the fire up,” Taz said gruffly, wiping his eyes, and walking off. It would be a long night, but Karik didn’t begrudge it. Romi didn’t move or react at all as he was gently shifted to allow Karik to take his position again. “Damn, I wish I’d told him how much I valued him as a friend,” Kepi said as Karik took Romi back into his arms, and Kepi wrapped the blankets around them again. “Tell him anyway,” Karik said. “His spirit will hear.” “He can’t hear anything,” Kepi snapped, then he stalked off to the edge of the camp, his faint sobs muffled in his hands. Karik stroked his silent companion’s cold face. “Romi, damn it, why are you letting us down just when we need you the most? When I need you? Please wake up. Please.” But his words went unheard. Karik’s heart was like a frozen stone in his chest as he tried to prepare himself for the inevitable. He’d never had to face this kind of pain before, and didn’t know how to. “Don’t leave us,” he whispered next to Romi’s ear. “Damn you, you promised to keep us safe.” It was impossible to sleep, though he dozed on and off through the night. Each time he woke, there was still no change in Romi’s condition, though someone had been up and built the fire a couple of times. He hoped for mercy’s sake Romi wouldn’t linger too long, but he still couldn’t completely silence the treacherous voice in the back of his mind that whispered where there was life, there was
hope. That voice caused too much pain, deluding friends and family, and only led to an unrestful end for the dying person themselves. He wouldn’t delude himself. Romi would have a peaceful, dignified death, whatever Karik’s stupid inner voice said. He dozed again, and woke, cramped and tired, just as pre-dawn was beginning to compete with the fire in illuminating the camp. He shifted Romi against him, and stroked his hair. “Are you in pain, my friend? I hope you’re not.” Then came a sound scarcely louder than the rustling of leaves in the early dawn wind. “Co....” What? Had he imagined that? “Romi?” With a start, he realised Romi was shivering again—and that his eyes were very slightly open. “Romi, are you cold?” “Co...ld.” “Kepi! Taz! He’s cold! He’s awake! Make the fire up again!” He shook Romi carefully. “Wake up, Romi. Open your eyes, please, oh gods, open your eyes!” Romi’s eyes did indeed open a tiny bit more, but then he closed them again, but the minute wince that accompanied the action told Karik it was because they hurt, not that he had fallen unconscious again. The soldiers were already at his side. “Is he really awake?” Kepi said, his eyes full of heartbreaking hope, “He spoke—he’s cold. Please, make the fire. Kepi, some tea.” Karik helped Romi sit, and this time there was no mistaking the moan of discomfort issuing between grey lips. “I’m sorry, I don’t mean to hurt you,” Karik said. “Open your eyes again, Romi. Please.” Romi’s lids obediently raised—his eyes were bloodshot, and he looked utterly weary, but he was unquestionably awake and responsive. “Cold....” “I know...we’re making the fire. Are you going to stay this time?” “S...tay?” “Never mind. You’re awake. Gods, I’m so happy!” Romi winced again and closed his eyes with a tiny frown, perhaps wishing Karik wouldn’t bellow his joy at such close range. Now it was no longer a death vigil, but a fight to get Romi well, Kepi and Taz were re-energised. Nothing was too much trouble, no service too minor to offer. Kepi exchanged places with Karik so he could sate his suddenly ravenous hunger, and then take stock of what they could offer their patient. Taz couldn’t stop grinning as Karik spoke to him, and though Romi was not out of danger, the bubbles of happiness inside Karik just wouldn’t be suppressed. “A softer bed would help,” he suggested, “and he’ll need a way of relieving himself.” “Leave it with me,” Taz said. “Gods, Karik, are you a miracle worker or something?” “The credit is his alone, Taz. I was helpless as you were. But now we can help him get better.”
Romi’s improvement, though very slow, continued steadily. By evening, he had got half a pint of tea and a little meat soup enriched with the gezin root inside him, and was definitely breathing easier. The deadly low temperature was improving, though he was still very cold and his lips still an unpleasant colour. Karik insisted he slept propped up to help his labouring heart and lungs. Now it seemed to be a question of when, not if, Romi would recover, Karik worried about permanent heart damage—but he decided not to mention it to the others just yet. He wanted Romi past the danger point before they looked ahead. Romi slept most of the following three days, though when he woke, he was more lucid, and was able to take fluids and spooned soup readily. His colour improved a little, though he was still rather grey and breathless—the least exertion wore him out, and being unable to get out of bed, he had to piss into a water skin Taz had made for the purpose. Karik spent every possible moment at his side, attending to his needs, keeping him warm and comforting him. He didn’t care how much effort he had to put into nursing the man—all he knew was that his friend was recovering every day, and would not die. The rest was mere details. But as Romi improved, the details became important too. “How long before he can walk?” Taz asked on the fifth day as Karik took a break to eat. “At least another week. Even when he does, I don’t think he’ll be able to walk far. I’m worried about his heart—we daren’t push him, Taz. We could kill him.” “If we don’t get to civilisation before the snows, we’re dead anyway,” Taz said soberly. “We can’t slow down to match his pace.” “We can’t leave him,” Karik snapped. Taz laid a hand on his shoulder. “Peace, young Karik. Are you joking—leave him after all that? No, I was thinking of making a cart or a travois—something we could pull between us.” “Can we manage that over rough ground?” Karik said dubiously. “If he can get out from time to time as needed, we should be able to. If you have a better solution, I’m all ears.” Karik was no engineer, but it seemed to be the only way they could all get to Selnozi before the first hard snows. When it was put to Romi, his first reaction—which was that they should leave him behind—was met with immediate derision. Wisely, he shut up. “Anyway, I’d rather pull a travois than carry your fat arse,” Kepi said, grinning at Romi’s sour look. “The only alternative is for young Karik to throw you over his shoulder like a dead tevinu.” “No thanks,” Karik said, smiling at Romi’s wince. “The travois can work,” he said earnestly. “You can’t travel yet, and we’ve got the tools to make a decent one. It’ll be fine.” “You’re risking your lives,” Romi growled, pulling the blanket tighter around him. He never seemed to be able to get warm these days. “Three of you could make it in three weeks. Plenty of time.” “No.” Karik glared at the captain. “If you don’t go, I don’t go.” “Me either,” Kepi said firmly.
“And that goes for me, captain, so, speaking respectfully, just shut up, will you?” “Insubordinate bastard,” Romi muttered. “And proud of it,” Taz said. “Right, Kepi, let’s get started. Karik, we’ll need to work on this pretty solidly—can you handle the rest?” “Yes, but we’ll need more game.” “We can handle that too—though your snares are probably doing more good than my bow,” Taz added mournfully. His lack of success catching another big game animal was a bit worrying, although their supplies were holding up for now. The others went off to cut down the trees they would need for this purpose. Romi looked grumpy. “Need anything?” Karik said, taking his mug away to refill it. “Yes—a team with an ounce of sense. You’ll never get to Selnozi pulling me like dead weight.” Karik fixed him with a hard look. “Six days ago, those men said farewell to you, expecting to cut your braid before nightfall. You didn’t die. You really can’t expect us, after all that, to just leave you in the wilderness. You haven’t a hope of surviving on your own.” “But to sacrifice three good men for one invalid—” Karik took his hand. “Three good friends are not going to do anything but get their other good friend home safe. You aren’t going to win this one, Romi. All you’ll do is piss us off if you keep arguing.” “Stubborn little shit,” Romi said, but his hand tightened around Karik’s. “You saved my life.” “You saved yourself.” “No...I remember you being there. Shouting at me...and then holding me. I just thought if you’d hold on tight, I’d make it. And I did.” “All I did was let you heal yourself. You frightened me—all of us—nearly to death. Don’t damn well do it again, captain,” he added wagging his finger sternly, and winning a tired smile. The very next day, Romi rose from his bed, although it was only to hobble to sit by the fire for a few minutes before he had to lie down again. The bug bite still troubled him a good deal, though it appeared to be healing. The real problem was the breathlessness and the fatigue, and that, Karik was sure, would only improve with time. The gezin root did seem to help, and Karik noted all the details down in his diary, making sure he had samples to go back to Darshian. Perhaps it was foolish to worry about such things when they were in such desperate straits, but if it saved a single life, then it was worth the effort. The travois took shape in two days—the hardest bit was making a comfortable seat and then finding a way to let two men pull it without putting an intolerable strain on themselves, since travois were usually only pulled by pack animals. Kepi was sure he could make it work, though. Romi still muttered about the stupidity of trying to pull him when they could hardly keep themselves together, but at least it was only in Karik’s hearing.
There were other preparations that needed to be done before they could leave. Romi was right in that they would need more food to fuel their extra effort, and without his hunting skill, they would have to work harder to get the meat they needed to replace lost muscle. Stubborn fool that he was, he tried to push himself to be able to help, suffered a relapse, and was then forced to stay in bed all day to recover. “Now will you stop?” Karik said in exasperation. “You’re sick, Romi. All the determination in the world won’t change that.” “You’re just getting your revenge for all the orders I gave you earlier.” “Oh, believe what you want, you stupid arse,” Karik said crossly. “Just don’t get out of bed until I order it or I’ll tie you up. And don’t even think of pushing me to it,” he added as Romi looked about to come back with some idiotic comment. “I’d enjoy tying you up.” Romi raised an eyebrow. “And here I was, thinking you were such an innocent.” Karik was puzzled, but then, vaguely remembering a joke Kei had once made and what it had meant, he flushed to the roots of his hair. “You should be so lucky,” he said haughtily, and stalked off. What an enormous arse he was!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Staying Power: 30 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Pulling Karik’s tail provided only a slight amount of amusement in what was a very unfunny situation for Romi. He’d never been seriously ill in his entire life, and had barely had a cold since he’d left childhood—never been badly injured, and had always been the fittest, fastest member of any team. Now the short walk to piss against a tree left him gasping for breath, thoroughly exhausted. He had no idea how to handle this situation, and with Karik unable to tell him how long it would last, and worrying over his team throwing away their only chance at survival for his sake, he was becoming depressed and short-tempered. Even eating a meal reminded him that he had not contributed to it, that he was a burden, and a dangerous one. He knew he had to stop the others endangering their lives so pointlessly. It was his duty to protect his people at whatever cost to himself. Give him five minutes alone and access to a knife, and it would be done. He had to act soon. Karik and Taz were talking about leaving the very next day. Listening to them over lunch made his small appetite disappear, but even though Karik frowned at him, he couldn’t make himself eat. “Not hungry?” Karik asked, seeing his untouched bread and meat. “Maybe later,” he said, forcing himself to smile. “I guess the marsh bug hit my appetite too.” “Maybe something else—” “Leave it,” he snapped. Karik stepped back, his expression blank. “Sorry. Don’t pester me, I can feed myself.” “As you wish. Taz, I want to see if the fish traps have worked, and then we can do another trawl for water plant roots.” Taz nodded. “You all right here with Kepi?” he asked Romi. “Where would I go?” Romi said, again making himself grin. Taz smiled back and then headed off with Karik. Kepi was putting finishing touches to the shelter frame they’d decided to take with them, to reduce the time it took to make the camp each night and thereby help with the fatigue their useless team member would cause them. All Romi could do was watch like an inert lump and wait for an opportunity, however small, to put his plan into action. Finally he had his chance—Kepi left to find a little more wood, assuring Romi he would be gone only minutes. Minutes were all Romi needed. He threw the blanket off, staggered to Karik’s pack, where his own knife was stored. There, got it. He got his breath back, then moved away from the campsite, and slumped against a tree, panting. Maybe he should take his shirt off, someone could use it —but he didn’t have the energy even for that. Better get on with it then. Hand shaking, he raised the
knife. Could he put it through his ribs? No, he might not make a fatal wound straight off—better in the throat, though it would make a mess and he was sorry for that. He closed his eyes. One...two.... “If you kill yourself, I will come after you in the next life and make it a pissing misery, Romi.” He opened his eyes and saw Kepi standing there, white-faced and glaring at him. “Just let me do it, Kepi. It’s the only way.” “No. Stand down, captain.” He had little choice, as with two long strides, Kepi had reached him, taken the knife from him, and forced him to sit on the ground. Kepi crouched in front of him. “You pissing coward. How could you...we were watching you die!” He threw the knife forcefully into the soil, so it was buried up to the hilt. “You selfish, pissing bastard!” “I’ll get you killed. All of you killed.” “Our choice. Do you think we want to live at the price of your life? Did you drag us this far only to prove what a lousy coward you are? Answer me, you bastard!” “Kepi, please.... I just want you to live,” Romi said helplessly. “There’s no way you can pull me to Selnozi.” “Then at least we die trying, not betraying everything we swore as soldiers to do.” “And do you make that choice for Karik? He’s no soldier. He’s got a family who need him, a daughter who needs him. Don’t ask me to make her an orphan.” “Damn you, if you honestly think Karik would....” Kepi spat in disgust. “That man dragged you back from death with his bare hands, I swear it. Daughter or no daughter, Romi...you insult him.” “What if I have to watch you die because you tried to save me?” “Think we’re that bad at soldiering, do you?” “We were barely hanging on even before all this,” Romi said, desperate to convince Kepi this was insane. “We always knew if one of us was injured, it would cripple the team. As captain, I’m ordering you to walk away now and leave me alone.” “No. You’re not fit to be my captain anymore—and if you kill yourself, I’ll make sure people know about the great coward, lieutenant pissing Romi of pissing Temshek barracks!” Romi had never seen Kepi this angry before—he was usually so slow to rouse, he rarely ever even got cross with people. “On your damn feet, soldier—you’re under arrest for your own protection.” “Oh, don’t be—” “Don’t push me, Romi. If you weren’t so ill, I’d knock you down. Get up, you bastard!” Not waiting for him to obey, Kepi hauled him up by his collar, then retrieved the discarded knife. “Move your arse. Move!” He was serious. He really was putting his own captain under arrest. Worse was to follow. “You can’t,” Romi said, aghast as he saw Kepi retrieve one of their ropes and then face him with obvious intent to use it.
“Pissing can. I’d ask for your word of honour not to try anything, but obviously that means nothing to you. Sit by that tree.” Stung by the accusation, Romi obeyed, glaring as Kepi efficiently and with no gentleness at all, tied the rope around Romi’s waist and then around the tree. “You’ve lost your mind.” “Funny how one of my best friends trying to kill himself will do that. Now shut up.” Kepi put a blanket around his shoulders. Romi refused to help him adjust it, still incredulous that one of his soldiers could be so bull-headed and stupid. “Sit there, behave—don’t try to kill yourself.” “Kepi—” “Shut up! Damn you to all hells, Romi. It would have been me who found you. I hate your guts!” Kepi stalked off, punching a tree as he passed. Romi sighed, tested the rope without much hope, and then could only sit, frustrated, angry and worried as the afternoon wore on. Kepi’s display had only convinced him he was doing nothing but harm by continuing to burden them with his crippled presence. Yes, Kepi would grieve, but he would get over it. Karik and Taz would help him. With any luck, all that anger would push them on faster. The others returned mid-afternoon—with good hunting, Romi noted, pleased for their sakes. It only proved that on their own, they could manage—but not with nearly two hundred pounds of useless deadweight behind them. He just needed to convince them of that. Kepi took Taz and Karik away from the camp, but Romi heard him shouting anyway. The response of the others was inaudible, but Romi braced himself for more anger and more stupid sentiment which would get them killed. Why couldn’t they see he was trying to uphold his sworn duty to protect them? After nearly an hour, it was Karik who returned, grim-faced and alone. Romi readied himself for the blast, but the man said nothing, merely crouching behind the tree—in a few moments, the rope was freed from around Romi’s waist. Then Karik came around in front of him, and, drawing his own knife, threw it to Romi. “There you go. Get on with it.” Stiff and tired from hours of sitting and fretting, Romi used the tree to help himself stand as Karik moved a little way away. “Is this a trick?” “No trick. Do it.” Romi looked at him warily, still suspecting a trap. “You don’t need to watch.” “Oh, yes I do. I want to be sure you’re dead this time. No miraculous recovery to give me hope. I want to know the lying, oath-breaking traitor who claimed to be my friend and who asked me to trust him, is dead. Then maybe the man I knew will come back from wherever he’s hiding and this shit will be over!” Romi let the hand holding the knife fall to his side. He was so tired—couldn’t they just let him go? “I didn’t want to hurt you,” he whispered.
“You’re not hurting me. For you to hurt me, you’d have to be my friend, and I don’t want any more friends who ask me to trust them and then stab me in the back. Just a little tip, Romi—I’d rather you raped me too next time. It doesn’t hurt half as much as watching you die.” Karik turned his back on him, but Romi could tell he was trembling. “I’m sorry, Karik—” The other man whirled, eyes flashing with rage, colour high in his cheeks. “You’re not! You’re just an arrogant arse, thinking you know best, that you’re better than all three of us put together and that just because things have got a little difficult for you for the first time in your charmed life, you want to escape, and be damned to the rest of us! You’re selfish, you’re cruel, and you’re a pissing cowardly liar. So stick the knife in your neck and spare us the spectacle of your hypocrisy.” He couldn’t stand any more—it had been an exhausting afternoon and he was at the end of his strength. He slumped down against the tree again and stared up at his furious companion. “You don’t understand.” “What don’t I understand, Romi? That you’re sick? That everything, every movement is difficult? That you’re worried, frightened—depressed? Oh no, I’d never understand that. I was only nearly beaten to death by the children in our village, nearly stabbed to death by a madman, because I have blond hair, not brown. I was only drugged, raped and nearly murdered by the man I trusted as a friend and a mentor. Of course I wouldn’t understand being helpless or frightened or wanting to die. I’m just an idiot.” Romi had never heard such raw scorn in anyone’s voice before. Karik walked over and leaned down, staring right into Romi’s face. “But you know? If I had killed myself when I was sixteen, my daughter would not have been born. If I’d killed myself after Visiqe—and I wanted to, I really, really did some nights—you all would have starved to death by now. So it’s a really good thing that I’m too stupid to understand such things, don’t you think?” Romi closed his eyes. Could he just sleep before he died? So very, very tired.... “Is that it?” “That’s it. Now get on with it.” Romi raised the knife and pointed it at his throat. “Please don’t watch,” he whispered. “I’m begging you.” “You don’t get to tell me what to do any more. You lost my respect when you lost my trust.” He swallowed, then swallowed again, and as the tears trickled down his cheeks, he let the knife fall from his fingers. “You don’t understand. You don’t understand. I’m sorry.” He covered his face with his hand and rubbed his eyes. “Just trying...I’m sorry. I don’t want you to die, Karik. I’m sorry, so sorry....” He couldn’t stop the tears at all, and really, he wasn’t one for crying...he.... Strong arms pulled him close and cradled him, and his tears soaked into a worn, smoke-scented shirt. “I don’t want you to die,” Karik murmured against his ear. “Why can’t you see that? You promised to take me home. You can’t take me home if you’re dead.” “But you’ll die if I stay.”
Karik pulled his head back and looked at Romi. “I’ll die if you don’t,” he said quietly. “Please. Give us a chance to prove we can do this. We deserve the chance. We fought for it. Please—you said you trusted me. Can you not trust me a little more?” “I...don’t...I just want to keep you all alive. I don’t know any other way it can work.” Karik stroked his fingers down Romi’s face. “Because you’re sick, you’re tired and you’re worried half to death. You’re not in the best state to make any judgements, let alone something this important. You’re a sick man who needs time to get well.” He took Romi’s hand in his, gave it a squeeze. “You need to let us show you what we can do, and if we die, we die with honour, knowing we did our very best. We can’t do that if you take the choice away. Please, Romi? I don’t want to lose my friend. I came too close the other night. Don’t make me go through that again. Not after....” He swallowed, and looked at Romi with eyes bright with tears. “Who will save me in the night this time?” he whispered. I’m such a damn fool, Romi thought, now shaking uncontrollably and feeling so very, very cold and tired. “Me. I’ll always save you.” “Thank you.” Karik smiled at him, though moisture still glinted in his green eyes. “You look like shit.” “I feel like shit. I’m sorry.” “I know. I forgive you because I know you mean well, and we won’t be having this conversation again, will we?” “No.” He had lost. He had nothing more he could try, and could only give in. It was a mistake, but it was too late for anything else. “Good.” Karik stood and offered him a hand, pulling him up and putting an arm around his waist. He helped Romi back to the shelter and suggested he lie down. “Rest. Get well.” “Will I ever get better?” “I believe you will,” Karik said firmly. “It might take time, and we might have to get you back to Darshek before you fully recover, but you will. Damn it, have some faith in us, and some faith in yourself,” he said, shaking his head in exasperation. “Now, get some sleep. I’ll wake you for supper— you need to eat.” “All right,” Romi said tiredly. Karik put his hand on Romi’s forehead and stroked it gently, and with that touch offering him a little comfort, he slipped away where there was peace.
~~~~~~~~ Karik waited until Romi was soundly asleep, his tired face free of tension at last, then rose quietly, went to where Romi had dropped his knife, sheathed it, then leaned against the tree, resting his cheek against it. “Gods,” he said. His hands were shaking again. What an incredible, brave, stubborn arse.
He only took a few moments to collect himself, then he walked back to where Kepi and Taz were waiting anxiously. They had put their trust in him when he’d asked to try and deal with Romi—and if he’d got it wrong, they would have all lost someone very precious to them. “He’s asleep,” he said as Kepi stood, fists clenched with the stress he was feeling. “It’ll be all right, I think.” Taz swore quietly. Kepi slumped against the tree behind him. “Gods. Thank you. I just didn’t know what to do. How could he even think we would want him to die?” “He’s very ill and depressed,” Karik said. “In his mind, he’s thinking as clearly as ever—but you and I know he’s not. I think I’ve made him realise he’s not up to making big decisions. You know how hard it is, being helpless, being so sick—even my Pa becomes a complete idiot when he’s injured.” Taz gave him a wry grin. “Mine too, come to think of it. Romi’s just like him in that way.” “Well, who wants to be dependent?” Karik said with a shrug. He closed his hands—they were still trembling a little. “Now he’s had the short sharp shock, I want you to be very, very gentle with him. He’s pretty fragile—physically, mentally. He’s at the limit of what he can take. So if you consider him a friend, now’s the time to be one.” “I was so pissing angry with him,” Kepi said. “I couldn’t believe he would do that. I mean...gods, Romi, of all people.” “And that tells you just how sick he is. You know that’s not like him,” Karik said. “Now, he’s going to rest, and I think we’d better wait one more day to leave, Taz. I don’t think he’ll try this again, but if he gets too stressed or upset again, I can’t make any guarantees.” “We need to keep a close eye on him,” Taz said. “Well done, Karik. I hope he realises one day what you did for him.” “If he ever forgives me for some of the things I said to him, he might. I was pretty horrible to him.” “So was I,” Kepi said. “But it did no good.” “I think it did,” Karik said. “One of us on our own may not have been enough. But let’s put it behind us. He’s right—it’ll be tough, and if he sees us failing, it’ll just make him depressed. Our success will keep him alive, literally.” “True enough,” Taz said, getting to his feet. “Right, then I’ll check our snares and set them again, if we’re here another night. You lads get on, and I’ll be back soon.” “Be careful, Taz,” Karik warned. “We really can’t afford another one of us hurt.” “I’m always careful,” Taz scoffed. “Oh, yes?” Karik pointed at his recently injured arm. “Be careful, you nitwit.” “Yes, yes, captain healer Karik sir,” Taz said with a mock salute, then grinned and walked off. Kepi watched him for a moment or two. “I’m still shaking,” he murmured. “Me too,” Karik said, holding up his hands. “Can you forgive him? He’s really not himself.”
“I’ll forgive him, but I’m not sure I can trust him just yet. Gods, Karik, a moment or two more—if I’d stopped to take a piss or something....” “But you didn’t, so don’t think about it. Come on. There’s still a lot of work to be done.” As Romi slept, they worked quietly in camp, grinding seeds, shelling nuts, doing what they could to minimize weight, and to maximise the amount of food they could bring with them. They were still, Taz had calculated, two hundred and fifty miles from Selnozi, with only a month left before the snows would make their travel impossible in their poorly equipped state. It had already been decided between them that they would travel no more than five hours a day, and for no more than three days at a time before a full day’s rest and foraging. Even pulling the travois, they should, Taz believed, cover ten miles a day, and that would bring them to Selnozi before the snows. It was cutting it fine, but anything more and they would certainly fail, realising Romi’s desperate predictions. Taz and Kepi would take the brunt of the work. Being heavier and evenly matched physically, they’d decided they would pull the travois together, while Karik took the packs and helped the thing over rough ground. Karik thought it was fair—he could contribute more at the end of the day when they stopped to forage, and someone needed to keep an eye on their sick friend. Karik could only hope Romi would realise that even as an invalid, he was an irreplaceable member of the team. Even now, his hands shook a little as he recalled the sight of Romi aiming the knife at his throat. It had been too close. Much too close. Romi slept right through to nightfall, and was very drowsy and subdued when Karik woke him to take some tea and soup. He ate in silence, and as Karik sensed he was deeply ashamed, still worried and sad, he didn’t press him, or mention the events of the afternoon, feeling too raw himself to revisit them himself, and knowing full well Romi was in no shape to discuss them either. Once the utensils had been cleared away, and Romi helped up to relieve his bladder, Karik got him settled back into bed. “How do you feel?” Karik asked, feeling his forehead—still cool, too cool. “I’m all right,” Romi said, looking away. “Tell me the truth.” “I’m cold,” he whispered. “But I’ll be all right.” “Yes, you will, because we’re going to warm you up. Taz? Kepi?” The others came over. “Romi’s cold. I’m getting into bed behind him. Kepi, will you get in front? Taz, can you build up the fire?” “Can do.” “I’m all right,” Romi said, with a half-hearted glare. “Yes, you are. And so are we. Now be quiet and let me get comfortable.” Romi sighed, a hint of exasperation in the sound, and Karik almost grinned. He would much rather have a slightly irritated Romi than a profoundly depressed one. He snuggled up behind the man, but to his surprise, Romi turned to face him. “Do you mind?” “Not at all. Are you comfortable?”
“Yes. Thank you.” Romi’s hand snaked up between them and found Karik’s own. “Forgive me.” “I already did,” Karik whispered, as Kepi climbed into the shelter and got settled on Romi’s other side. “And so does he. Sleep. You need it.” Romi nodded, and closed his eyes. Kepi rolled over and looked at Karik across Romi’s head. “All right?” he mouthed. “Yes,” Karik mouthed back. “Good night.” And please let things be better tomorrow.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Staying Power: 31 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Of course, the short sharp shock wouldn’t be enough on its own. Karik wasn’t expecting Romi to instantly return to normality, and nor did he, remaining very quiet and downhearted. They had to reengage his interest, remind him that he still had a crucial role in the team even though he was sick. As he helped Romi eat a rather better breakfast than he’d managed the day before, Karik explained their travel plans. He was frank in admitting they were changing the schedule to fit Romi into it, but he also explained that with autumn approaching, hunting would become less useful as the game moved south, but foraging would become more productive. “So we need to spend more time each day, but a longer break doesn’t really help. Does that make sense?” “You’re the expert here, Karik,” Romi said, uncharacteristically passive in his acceptance. “As you said, we’d have starved to death without you.” “And you—your bow has saved us too, don’t forget. But now you can make snares and help set traps. It won’t be long before you can do that as well as any of us. How’s the leg?” “Still sore.” Karik gave him a stern look. “All right, it hurts like all hells. There’s nothing you can do about it.” “Yes, there is, and after you finish that honey cake, I’ll show you.” One of the things he had learned early on in Darshek from Kei was how to give a therapeutic massage, and whenever he was home, both his parents would beg him to rub their backs or legs, stiffened from hard work and long standing. It helped to have some tido palm oil to smooth things, but the important thing, Kei had emphasised, was the skin to skin contact—and maintaining a healthy attitude to one’s patient. “You heal with your fingertips,” Kei had always said, “but also with your heart. If you gave a massage to someone you hated, you’d probably kill them.” But today, he wanted to heal, not kill. He sat Romi on a blanket and removed his trousers, wincing at the mottled purple appearance of Romi’s leg. It was improved on a couple of days ago, but still hideous. “Strange to think something the size of my thumbnail could do all this,” Romi murmured. “So now you’ll be even more respectful of beetles,” Karik joked. “Where does it hurt the most?” “Everywhere,” Romi said, lying back. “It’s like the world’s biggest bruise.” “Well, it is, I guess,” Karik said, laying his hands carefully on Romi’s skin, then began very gently to rub. He had to be careful—the bruising was severe and the skin fragile—but if he could help the blood disperse, then the pain would ease eventually. It wouldn’t happen quickly, but his main aim wasn’t so much to help Romi’s leg. Romi, he’d noticed, liked to touch and be touched, and as he and Karik had become friends, Karik too had become subjected to pats and squeezes and hugs—it was just the way Romi liked to show his approval and affection. So what Karik was doing was trying to show
Romi some of that in turn, but in a way that didn’t cross the line into areas he just couldn’t think about just now. A massage was an act of friendship, Kei said. Even love, if one wanted it to be. It healed the person giving as much as the person receiving. Karik hoped that was true. The weather was growing drier as they moved into autumn, and today was another fine, warm day. Though there was work to be done, and Kepi and Taz were busy, neither of them would resent the time taken to help Romi, so it was with an easy conscience that he worked on Romi’s leg, a companionable silence between them. After a little while, Romi’s eyes closed, and a little while after that, he was asleep again. That damn marsh bug had done so much damage. If it could do such harm to someone so strong, what effect would it have on a child, or an elderly person? If there had been time, Karik would like to capture some of the beetles, but there wasn’t—he just hoped that Kei could help Romi heal if any effects lingered. It was truly terrifying he could be laid low so fast. Stupid man, thinking his death could ever be a good thing. Even when Karik had been most angry with him, he’d never want him to die. Suffer something painful like haemorrhoids or something, yes, but not die. And now...no, he couldn’t imagine it. A world without Romi was inconceivable. Strange how their lives had become so intertwined, and yet, with luck and in a few short months, they would return safely to Darshian. After that, they might never see each other again. Karik stopped for a moment and frowned. No—that was unacceptable. There had to be an answer for that. He heard footsteps and turned—Kepi, walking quietly so not to disturb his captain. “How is he?” he whispered. “Still tired,” Karik said. “Let him rest.” “Of course. You need anything?” “Just the blanket—I want to let him sleep as long as he can. I’ll rub his leg a little more, then come and help.” But Kepi waved him back. “You look after him. We’ve got everything under control. Taz is going to try and take another tevinu. “ He fetched the other blanket and gently covered Romi up. “He looks better.” “Yes, he is, I think. He needs to be in an infirmary, but this is all we have.” “He’s got you, that’s all he really needs. We’ll be back later.” Kepi had it wrong. What Romi really needed was someone like Kei, who’d not only be able to care for his heart, but who would have picked up on his strange thinking sooner, and spared them all a lot of worry. He carried on massaging Romi’s leg, then left him sleeping peacefully while Karik attended to his chores around the camp, all the while keeping an eye on his patient. His friend, Karik amended as he looked down at Romi. He crouched, and soothed a wrinkle that had appeared on Romi’s broad brow. He wished he could will away Romi’s illness, but it just didn’t work like that. Romi’s eyes opened as Karik removed his hand. “Hello,” Karik said, smiling at him. “You had a good rest.”
Romi grimaced. “I keep hoping...I’ll wake up and be normal.” He indicated he wanted to sit up, so Karik helped him. Even that slight effort made him pant, and Karik wondered how he would bear the jolting of the travois. It wouldn’t be an easy journey for their captain. “I know what that feels like. When I was stabbed, one of the wounds got infected—I was deathly ill for about two weeks, and it was well over a month after that before I really stopped hurting and feeling weak. It just went on and on—I got so tired of it. But fretting about it just made it worse. I think the best thing is to accept that it will take time, see it as just another task, and try and distract yourself.” “Hard when everything makes me tired.” Karik knelt and let Romi lean back against him. “I know it’s hard. None of us think this is something you can just get over in five minutes. But you will get better. You already are, a little.” He touched his friend’s face. “Your colour’s better. Your breathing’s better. Even the fact you’re sleeping so easily is good. I’m not saying this just to cheer you up. I do know what I’m talking about,” he said with far more confidence than he felt—but Kei always said that was the greater part of a healer’s job anyway. “Really?” “Absolutely. Do you feel like doing some work after lunch?” The sudden light in Romi’s eyes was painful to see. Karik felt so sorry that Romi didn’t believe he served a purpose any more. Did he not know how much he meant to the rest of them—how much Karik needed him? Lunch was a simple meal of berries boiled with honey on camp bread, and sweet tea—they had been lucky with finding honey, and were using up the bounty since it was difficult to transport. “This is very good,” Romi said, licking his fingers. Karik was delighted to see him eating with more relish than he’d been doing up to now. “The berries are a bit tart, but they’re good for us, so the honey helps the medicine go down. I wish there was some way of getting butter—Taz refused to milk a tevinu for me, which I thought was unreasonable of him.” Romi arched an eyebrow at him for the joke. “He’s trying for another big animal, but even if he fails, we’ve got a lot of dried meat, and those fish.” “He shouldn’t risk it,” Romi muttered, poking the fire. “Kepi and I told him to be careful. He knows what’s at stake. We’re in a dangerous situation, there’s no avoiding that—we were before you got sick, we still are. But like you said, we’re a good team, and you’re a good leader.” “Was, you mean.” “No, you are,” Karik said firmly. “Don’t you abdicate now, you bastard.” Romi’s eyebrows lifted again. “You’ve got pretty foul-mouthed lately, you know that?” “It’s the company I’m keeping,” Karik said with a grin, then he became serious again. “I need you. Kepi needs you too. What you said to him about moving to Temshek, he’s really going on about that.
It’s given him something to look forward to—he’s talking to Taz about it too. They’re both excited about it.” Romi wouldn’t look at Karik, and just poked morosely at the fire. “Now what’s wrong?” “I’ll probably have to leave the army. I’ve no special training, not like Sibu, and you have to be completely fit. No one with a bad heart can be an officer. Kepi can’t depend on me being in Temshek.” Karik sighed. “And Kei says Arman’s a rotten patient. Look—you were dying a week ago. Now you’re not. If in two months’ time, you’re still unwell, then your whining might be justified. Until then, I don’t want to hear about it.” “I’m not whining,” Romi said, frowning at him. “I’m telling the truth.” “No, you’re whining. You think you’ll be like this for the rest of your life and that’s silly. You’re just being a stupid whiny brat.” “You’re the damn brat. Little snot.” “Stubborn arse.” Romi snorted with laughter. “You’re insubordinate, soldier.” “How fortunate that I am neither,” Karik said sweetly, which only made Romi laugh again. “Now, I need more cordage, and you make it better than me, so that’s your job. Are you comfortable? Need to move?” “Stop fussing. I’ll tell you if I need something.” “I’ll hold you to that,” Karik said sternly. “I don’t want any nasty surprises,” he added, deliberately using Romi’s own words against him. “Yes, yes. Don’t be a nag, Karik.” Karik shook his head at the man, then fetched the plant material they would need. With Romi leaning on him, they worked peacefully together, Romi using the sun to warm his eternally chilled body. He dozed off more than once, but Karik chose to ignore it—when he woke up, Karik pretended nothing unusual had occurred. He didn’t know if Romi was fooled, and Romi wasn’t letting on. Until reality replaced pretense, Karik would play along for Romi’s sake. He couldn’t help but worry that Romi’s grim prediction about his future would come true—he could only pin his hopes on his uncle’s skill and the knowledge in the academy. The rest was up to Romi and his own strength and fitness. Taz returned a few hours after noon, a small tevinu doe around his shoulders. “Kepi’s on his way back—I just passed him. Hello, Romi. Look, I finally got one on my own.” “You shouldn’t be hunting on your own,” Romi snapped. “Why in hells wasn’t Kepi with you? I told you over and over—no solo hunting. What if you’d been hurt or one of these damn bugs had bitten you too? Well, soldier? Explain yourself.” “Sorry, Romi,” Taz said, coming to attention. “I just wanted to get one more game animal.” “Don’t care. Do it again and you’ll go in my official report. Is that clear?” Taz saluted. “Yes, sir. It won’t happen again.”
“Damn well better not. Now get on with butchering it. You’ve left it a bit damn late to smoke it.” “I thought we could do it overnight, captain.” “Then get to it, soldier.” Taz saluted again. Romi grunted and turned back to his work. Over the top of his head, Taz dropped Karik a wink, and walked off with the dead tevinu to deal with it, grinning like a fool. “You’re getting slack,” Romi grumbled. “Just because I’m sick, that’s no damn excuse.” “Quite right,” Karik agreed, secretly delighted. It might have been more pretense, but it had been an impressive display. “Speaking of slack, get a move on, captain. Cordage doesn’t grow on trees, you know.” That got him a roll of plaited bark smack in the face for his cheekiness. Strangely, he didn’t mind it at all.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Staying Power: 32 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ When Karik, Kepi and Taz had talked about how they would get Romi to Selnozi, all of them had been open about the fact it would be hard, maybe even impossible. It had made not the slightest difference to their decision, of course—but after Romi’s suicide attempt, they realised that the exact degree of difficulty would somehow have to be concealed from him. It was therefore perhaps fortunate that Romi was forced to face backwards by the way the seat was arranged, and that he was in so much discomfort from the jolting, and so exhausted by the end of each day, that he didn’t really have much chance to notice just how hard it was for the rest of the team. Bravely, Kepi and Taz maintained a graceful insouciance about their fatigue until Romi fell asleep, usually no more than a few minutes after they’d stopped—then the two of them would collapse, unable to move for easily an hour or more. By nightfall, it was like being surrounded by corpses. At least they had anticipated this. Their food supplies meant that Karik could have done no foraging at all and they would still have enough to eat for a week—what he was able to find supplemented their stores and further reduced the efforts that might be needed by tired men. The frame Kepi had made meant setting up a shelter took mere minutes, not the hour or more that it had before, and Karik could do it quickly even on his own. And their plan of stopping every fourth day gave Kepi and Taz a chance to recuperate, something Romi needed too, because he got no rest at all while the travois was moving, and his stamina was still dangerously low. The worrying thing was that, with the extra load and the now rougher terrain, they really weren’t making ten miles a day—more like eight at the very most. There was nothing that could be done about it—they had to stop constantly to lift the travois over uneven ground and rocks, and it just wasn’t possible for Kepi and Taz to walk non-stop, or any further than they were each day. Even with the reduced mileage, his friends were losing condition at a devastating rate. Each time they stopped for a full day, it helped, but Karik realised their gamble was going to fail. They didn’t talk about it, and all three of them remained cheerful in front of Romi. But they were still too far from Selnozi, and it was getting colder every day. After three weeks, Kepi’s weight loss and exhaustion could no longer be concealed, and in the morning as they prepared to start their journey again, Romi refused to get on the travois. “Enough. I’m walking,” he said grimly. “Leave that thing behind. Leave it, or leave me.” “Don’t be a pissing fool,” Karik snapped, worn to a thread worrying about the situation. “You can’t walk a mile, let alone ten.” “Then leave me behind,” Romi said. “Oh no, you don’t!” Kepi’s eyes were huge and wild in his gaunt face as he raised his clenched fists. “Not this shit again!”
“Fine,” Romi yelled back. “When you drop dead in the traces, it’ll be me mourning you instead of you mourning me, you idiot. You can’t do this any more, and there’s snow coming, probably within days. There’s no room for sentiment now.” “Be quiet, both of you.” Romi and Kepi looked at Taz in surprise. “Romi, even if we left you now, we can’t make it. It’s at least a hundred miles to Selnozi. Karik’s the only one who might have enough strength to make it. You should go for help.” Karik rejected that out of hand. “I’d never make it in time and you know it, Taz. Please, everyone —can’t we just try?” “I’m not getting back on the travois.” “You will if I have to tie you up,” Kepi shouted. “Get on the damn travois, you bastard!” He grabbed at Romi’s shirt, and they struggled for a few moments, before Taz and Karik pushed them apart. “Stand down, Kepi,” Taz snapped. “Romi, sit down. Both of you.” Romi obeyed, pulling his shirt straight with a wounded look in Kepi’s direction. After a few sullen moments, Kepi sat too, steadfastly ignoring his friend. “This isn’t the behaviour of Darshianese soldiers, and squabbling won’t change the facts. Karik? Sit down, we need to talk about this.” Karik sat down next to Romi, and Taz took up a position next to Kepi. Side by side, it was obvious that neither of them could continue this way—they’d both lost too much muscle, and their sunken cheeks and eyes spoke of too long an effort with too little rest. A day here or there just wasn’t enough. “We’ve got two choices. We can try to struggle on, or we can make some kind of winter shelter here. Karik?” “I know nothing about winter survival, Taz,” Karik admitted. “We don’t have equipment, or clothes, or stores. We don’t have time to acquire them either. I’m sorry, but it’s true.” Taz nodded. Romi, Karik noted, was being curiously silent. Perhaps he realised the decision was out of his hands now. “You could get to Selnozi, you know,” Taz said to Karik. “I could—but you’d be dead by the time I got help back to you. I can’t do it. I won’t.” “All right, I understand. Then we either have to keep moving, or we lie down here and die.” “I’m going to die on my feet,” Kepi declared. “You certainly are,” Romi said. “Look, if you left me here with supplies, and pushed on, there’s just a slight chance you could send back help in time. But you drag me with you and you’ve got no chance. Slight is better than none, don’t you think?” “Nice try, Romi,” Kepi snapped. “But I’m not leaving you behind. How many damn times do I have to say the same damn thing?” “Romi, Kepi and I can’t move fast enough for that to work,” Taz said. “I’m not leaving you here alone.” “Then you and Kepi should go to Selnozi, and I should stay with him,” Karik said. Taz blinked at him. “Think about it—travelling alone, if you took the food, supplies—you could do it in ten days. I can provision Romi long enough, even if it snows, if you send help back within a month. We wouldn’t
need so much food if we weren't moving. I can survive that long—it’s the deep winter I couldn’t manage.” “Karik’s, that’s insane,” Romi protested. “I won’t permit it.” Taz held his hand up to tell Romi to shut up. “Kepi?” “I don’t like it,” he said stubbornly, but then added, “but it might work. Don’t think I can walk ten miles a day right now, though.” “Look, this is ridiculous,” Romi said. “I’m the captain, and I’m making the order right now. Kepi, Taz, Karik—go to Selnozi. Send back help for me. That’s it.” “I thought I told you that you weren’t my captain any more,” Kepi snapped. “I never took that back.” “Fine, then you owe me no duty,” Romi said, pushing himself to his feet. “I’m not involved any more.” He walked off—Karik leapt up to follow him. “Romi, wait...!” He fell silent as Romi made a slicing motion with his hand, the universal signal to shut up and shut up now. He looked past the captain’s shoulder—and there stood a tribesman, hung with dead game, looking at them all as if they were some strange new species. Romi walked forward. “Greetings, my friend. I am Romi of Darshian.” He bowed in the correct manner. The tribesman glared suspiciously, and Karik got a particularly hard look. “Geifeinu,” he said finally. “You’re on our land.” “I apologise, Geifeinu. We’re trying to get to Selnozi.” Karik stepped forward. “We need help,” he said simply. “Romi’s sick.” “What are you?” Geifeinu came closer, and walked around Karik, sniffing. “Are you human?” “My name is Karik. I’m human. Just Prijian.” Geifeinu’s eyes narrowed. “Prij?” He spat, a great gobbet of spittle landing near Karik’s boot. “Not helping the Prij,” he said finally, turning and walking away. “Wait! Please, wait!” Karik shouted, running after him. “Geifeinu, if you could at least help Romi! Please, he’ll die if we don’t get him to Selnozi before the snows. Please, for the love of the benevolent god!” Geifeinu turned. “Do not mock our religion, filthy Prij. You’re not fit to speak of Sephiz.” “I am fit because I was born in the love of Sephiz as are all living things. It is you who mocks his name by denying that.” Behind him, Karik heard Romi hiss in a breath. “You mock him by denying help to a lost soul in your country, one who calls on your help in Sephiz’s name.” Geifeinu’s hand came up to the knife on his belt. “Watch your tongue, filthy Prij. I’ll cut it out.” “Because I speak the truth and you won’t hear it,” Karik snapped.
Geifeinu stepped forward. Karik forced himself not to move a muscle as the big man leaned right into his face, wafting foetid breath over him. “Those asking a favour, are wise to coat their words in honey.” “Those hearing a favour being asked are wise to clean the wax from their ears,” Karik answered tartly. “We ask for your help in Sephiz’s name, and in the name of the king and council in whose service we are travelling. Pick which one you want to offend first.” “Karik,” Romi said quietly. He came up beside him. “Forgive him, my friend. He’s had a very hard journey and is worried for my worthless self,” he said with a bow. “He’s a devoted companion, but he has a big mouth sometimes.” Karik turned and raised an eyebrow at this blatant insult. “He’s right though—we need your help. I am Captain Romi of the Darshianese army. We were separated from our colleagues some weeks ago, but before that, we were travelling with Lep Wepizi of Tsikiugui. If you could help us get to Selnozi, his majesty would be personally grateful, I know that for a fact, as would the Rulers of Darshian. This man is the nephew of Lord Arman of Darshek.” For the first time, Geifeinu’s hard glare softened, and became confused. “But he’s a Prij.” “He’s just a brat, actually,” Romi said in a withering tone. “But a Darshianese citizen through and through. He was only born in Kuprij. Cut him open and it will say ‘son of Darshian’ on his heart.” “Do you mind?” Karik muttered, not at all happy with the idea of encouraging the big man with the big knife to do any cutting at all. Geifeinu grunted. “Your chatter annoys me. Get your things and follow me—and keep quiet. I get enough talk from my wife.” That was all Karik was waiting for. He raced back to Taz and Kepi. “He’s going to help!” “Oh, blessed gods,” Taz said quietly, then turned to his friend. “We’re going to make it after all.” Kepi hugged him—the relief on their exhausted faces was beautiful, Karik thought, his chest tightening at their joy, their indomitable bravery. Salvation had finally come in the form of one broad-backed, surly tribesman—with breath like a rotting urs beast.
~~~~~~~~ Geifeinu took one look at Kepi and Taz, the travois, and Romi sitting on it, then gruffly told the two load bearers to get out of the harness. He put it around his own huge shoulders, and hauled it along as if it weighed nothing at all. Kepi and Taz walked behind, Karik beside the travois, his hand lightly on Romi’s shoulder. The jolting of the travois, as always, was uncomfortable and tiring, though Romi was more glad than he had words to express that Kepi and Taz had been relieved of the burden, and of the brave pretence he had played along with as long as he could. Gods, let this be an end to their pain, he thought, looking at their faces, bright with happiness. Karik’s smile was dazzling too, but it was as well to remind them all that they were far from being out of danger. He beckoned Karik to lean down,
feigning chest pain, and when Karik bent, he pulled his head closer. “Don’t mention Kizinke,” he whispered against Karik’s ear, “our guides have been Feive and Gizwei all the way. Tell the others.” Karik looked at him in concern, but then nodded minutely. He understood—good. Romi let him straighten, and then Karik drifted back, quite naturally, and spoke quietly to Taz. Then he resumed his position next to Romi, his smile not quite as wide as before. They were not, it turned out, more than a mile from Geifeinu’s settlement, and if they had been less tired, they might have realised that. If Geifeinu had not appeared—or Karik’s peculiar brand of diplomacy had failed—Romi had no idea how the debate they’d been having would have ended. He’d been very close to losing his team, and if there was any chance now of saving them, he would do or say whatever it took. As he’d become used to with the settlements, the arrival of strangers brought people from everywhere, and as Geifeinu stopped the travois, and Karik helped Romi stand, they were surrounded by dozens of hostile men and women. Geifeinu said something in their dialect, and a youth peeled off, presumably to find someone senior to deal with the situation. Karik wasn’t smiling any more, and he bore the brunt of the suspicious looks and low muttering. Romi plastered a pleasant smile on his own face, but stayed quiet until the crowd parted to allow an older man, scowling fiercely, to come to the front. “You claim help in Sephiz’s name. Why should we help our enemy the Prij? Why should we help those who help our enemy?” Romi bowed as deeply as he could. “My name is Romi of Darshian. My friends are all Darshianese, and friends of Andon. We were travelling on a scientific mission when our party was divided by an accident near the slopes of Mount....” “I have no interest in your mission,” the man said. He barked a command, and four men immediately came forward and surrounded Karik. “Take him. Keep him under control,” he said. “No, you can’t—” “No, Romi, leave it,” Karik quickly said, though his face was pale with fright. “Just explain it to them. It’ll be all right.” “Karik!” But then he was borne off, his arms pinned tight against him. Romi clenched his fist and turned on the unnamed headman. “He has done you no harm. He’s a healer, that’s all. His parents live in AiAlbon, a village in Darshian. He was born in Kuprij, but raised Darshianese. Why are you treating him like a criminal?” The man came close to Romi, and poked him in the chest. “Because the man vouching for him is unknown to me, and wants a favour. You don’t like my hospitality? Feel free to leave. We don’t want you.” “We should go,” Kepi said angrily. “We can’t let them hurt Karik!” “He’s right, captain. I say damn them to hells,” Taz growled. His words set a low angry rumble going among the watching crowd.
This was getting out of hand. Romi raised a hand to tell Taz to hold his peace. “Friends, how can we reassure you? We travel in the service of your own king and council, and our purpose is for the benefit of your own peoples. Karik is collecting plants to make drugs which will be given back to the tribes to help cure their ills.” The headman looked unimpressed. “Can you prove any of this? For all I know, you’re not Darshianese at all. For all I know you’re Prij too.” There was no arguing the logic of that. “No, I can’t. Is there anything we can do to convince you? I would be prepared to be a hostage if you would just get my men to Selnozi. Please, my friend. Look at them.” He turned to Kepi and Taz—surely not even this suspicious bastard could deny their exhaustion. “They’ve been working themselves into the dirt trying to save my life. Please, don’t let them die. I don’t care what happens to me, I just want them safe.” “Piss on that, Romi,” Kepi yelled. The headman held his hand up. “Yes, yes, very moving. You would want to help them even if you were Prijian spies.” Romi gave him an exasperated look. “My friend, if we’re spies, we’re the most incompetent in Periter! What in Sephiz’s name are we doing wandering around the Andonese wilderness instead of plotting mischief in Visiqe? Search our bags—you won’t find maps, or proof of any evil.” The headman took him at his word immediately, and they were pushed aside as their packs were pulled open. There was a shout of triumph as Karik’s diary was withdrawn, and the headman gave Romi a hard look. “No proof, you say?” “It’s just Karik’s diary, that’s all—he’s taking notes because he’s a scientist. Read it for yourself.” The man flicked through it, though Romi doubted he could read at all, let alone read Darshianese. He suddenly thrust it to Romi, open to a random page. “Read it. Out loud. I will know if you are lying.” Romi took the book, thankful Karik’s handwriting was as neat and precise as everything else he did. “‘The vegetation continues to astonish me. I could spend two years just studying the way the trees deter insect attack. Next time, we must make arrangements to collect insects—maybe I’ll bring Gyo.’” He looked at the headman. “Gyo’s his best friend, from his village in north Darshian.” The man ignored his words, and just flipped the pages. “This?” Romi looked, and his aching heart stuttered. “Something else. Let me read something else.” “No. This.” He tapped the pages. Romi grimaced, and took a deep breath. “‘We have done all we can to make him comfortable, and now we can only wait for his brave heart to finally fail. It’s....’” He cleared his throat. “‘It’s killing Kepi. He doesn’t blame me, nor does Taz, though I blame myself. I wish I had spent two years with Kei in the infirmary, instead of collecting. Then maybe Romi wouldn’t be dying, and I would not be losing someone....’” He rubbed his eyes. “I can’t,” he whispered. The man frowned, but he no longer seemed so angry, just taking the book back and flipping the pages again. “What is this?”
“Uh, just the different flowers we were collecting that day. He’s a very good artist.” “And that?” A little distressed, and out of patience, Romi was less than polite. “An attack beetle. We were thinking of tying explosives to it to blow up the palace.” A snicker came from someone behind him. “Look—it’s flowers, insects and nuts, not siege engines. Karik is just keeping notes of the things that matter...that he’s interested in. He’s a scientist, a healer. He’s just a kind, clever young man who’s devoted his life to serving our country. All of us are sworn to serve Darshian.” He slapped his chest. “I’m not a pissing Prij! I’m a man of Darshian, an officer in her army. And I don’t give a damn if you believe me or not, it’s the truth!” The headman looked a little taken aback at his vehemence, and Romi dropped his hand, feeling rather foolish. Oh, well done, captain Romi, he told himself wryly. Taking lessons in handling people from Soza, that’s what you sound like. A woman came forward and whispered in the headman’s ear, and they held a rapid discussion, even as the headman watched him suspiciously. Romi wished someone would let them sit, and maybe offer them a drink of water. More people became involved in the discussion, and it became rather heated. Romi and the others were ignored, and he wondered if they were to just walk off, whether anyone would care. If he had any idea where Karik was, he would be very tempted to do just that. Pissing proud bastards. He tried to keep his impatience out of his expression. Finally, the headman ordered his people to move away from him. “I am Deptonu. We will help you get to Selnozi.” “And Karik?” “He will be returned to you. Come with me.” Romi would have preferred Karik had been released first, but he wasn’t in a position to insist. They were taken to Deptonu’s hut, and asked to sit on piles of blankets and furs, then they were joined by several people who Romi guessed were the tribal elders. Tea was served, and Deptonu’s wife gave Romi a considered look. “You are unwell?” “I was bitten by a marsh bug some weeks ago. It seems to have affected my heart. I owe my life to my friends.” She leaned over and spoke to her husband, then rose. “I will get our healer.” Deptonu looked at Romi. “A marsh bug? What’s that?” Romi had used the literal words, but he didn’t know the correct Andonese for it, so he could only describe it. “About so big, attached to my leg here.” He rolled up his trouser leg where, astonishingly, the bruising still lingered, though it was much improved. “Black with a red stripe, yellow dots. We have them in Darshian, but none so big.” Deptonu’s eyebrows rose. “You should be dead.”
“Yes, I know.” Deptonu snorted, then called for more tea. “Why do you wish to go to Selnozi?” “We don’t. We want to get back to Tsikiugui but we couldn’t walk so far. If we can contact the barracks there, we hope they’ll help us get home.” Deptonu nodded. “Three days to Selnozi. Much longer to Tsikiugui. We can go the day after tomorrow. Can you ride?” “Probably not,” Romi said regretfully. “But I will stay here—Kepi, it’s all right,” as his friend began to protest, “if you have no cart or you can’t use the travois.” “We have carts,” Deptonu said scornfully. “We’re not as primitive as you think, man of Darshian.” “I meant no offence, friend Deptonu.” Deptonu’s wife returned with another woman, and behind her, to Romi’s immense relief, was Karik, still looking rather pale but with an expression of unmistakeable hauteur on his face. He sank gracefully to the furs as he was asked to sit, and gave Romi a brief nod as if it had been of no consequence that he’d been seized and imprisoned, though his hand shook as he accepted a mug of tea. “Tell me, little Prij, why do you like our plants so much?” “Because like the people of this land, their spiky defences protect a valuable core,” Karik said in impeccable Andonese—his accent had really improved, Romi noticed. “The Darshianese have much to learn from your healers. Your medicines helped me save Romi’s life.” “He says you did.” “He’s too kind,” Karik said dismissively, not looking at Romi at all. “Has someone looked at him? He’s still very ill.” “Give me a chance, little Prij,” the new arrival said, kneeling beside Romi. “I am Hanike, the healer.” “I am Romi. Do you have a cure for the bite of the marsh bug?” “Tertri,” Karik murmured. “They call them ‘tertri’.” Hanike’s eyes widened. “You were bitten by a tertri? Why aren’t you dead?” Romi pointed silently at Karik. She turned to him. “You cured a tertri bite? How?” “I didn’t,” Karik protested. “I had nothing to offer—only lichens and gezin root.” “Gezin root?” “Well, yes.” He frowned. “The tertri poison affects the heart, the circulation. Two healers in the low countries said gezin root was good in heart trouble.” “Tell me what you did. Everything you did.” Deptonu thrust Karik’s diary at him. “Here, tell her.” So as Hanike examined him, Romi had to listen to Karik’s precise detailing of the desperate fight for Romi’s life. No mention was made of Karik’s private despair, or other feelings—Romi vowed he
would never mention that he had seen those entries. If Karik had thought Romi would read them, he would never have written them. Hanike listened intently—indeed, the entire assembly maintained a respectful silence as Karik spoke. At last, she bowed to him. “You are a learned healer, Karik of Darshian. Your friend is very lucky.” “No, Hanike, I am very lucky in my friend. My friends, all of them. Can you help Romi at all?” She shook her head. “No—we have no treatment for this. I’ve never had a patient survive this long —they usually die in two days. I would suggest much rest until you are well,” she said to Romi. Not much chance of that until we get home. “Thank you, healer Hanike. Karik, Deptonu says we can get to Selnozi in three days.” For the first time since he’d come into the hut, Karik smiled. “That’s very good news.” He bowed to the headman. “Thank you, my friend. The benevolent god guided us well today.” Deptonu grunted. “You seem to know a lot about our religion, little Prij.” “I’ve a lot of friends from your land. I even have a friend from Selnozi. Tiremza—he’s an engineer now. He was studying at the academy when I first came to Darshek.” “Tiremza?” Deptonu looked at his wife. “There was a lad, Tiremza, from Kozan’s settlement.” “Kozan is his father,” Karik said. “And he’s a friend, you say?” “Yes—I haven’t seen him in three years, but we write occasionally. He’s a very nice fellow. Very clever at mathematics.” Romi was as surprised as Deptonu was. Their ‘little Prij’ certainly got around. “Amazing,” Deptonu muttered. “So—you will rest, and then we will get you to Selnozi. Hanike, is it safe to carry this man in a cart so far? I don’t want the trouble of burying him.” “With rests, and a good night’s sleep each night, I think so. Besides, he will have his own healer with him,” she said, smiling at Karik, who acknowledged her words with a bow. Romi couldn’t help being astonished at the transformation in the tribal people’s attitude in just a few minutes, even though he’d seen Karik work his magic before. It was a wonder the man wasn’t ruling Darshian with that skill. In the situation they were in, it had probably literally saved all their lives. Now they had been accepted as what they were, and Karik’s Prijian origins counted as less important than his Andonese connections (and his knowledge), the hospitality was now unforced. Food was brought and eagerly consumed, as they were questioned closely about their journey, and their mission. “Sounds a foolish waste of time,” Geifeinu finally opined. Deptonu’s wife gave the man a scornful look. “Idiot, all you’re interested in is hunting. I will want to use these new medicines when they come, and then we’ll see how foolish you think it, Geifeinu, son
of Feinu.” She got to her feet. “I am Serkani. I’m sure you would like to use the steam room, get clean.” “You guessed right about that,” Kepi said eagerly. “Uh, Serkani,” Karik said, raising his hand, “I think it will be too much for Romi. But a wash would be wonderful.” “Come with me.” The steam room was powered by fire, not underground springs, but the principle was the same. Romi gave Karik a rueful look—he would love to sit and sweat out this miserable illness and this everlasting chill, but Karik shook his head. “Not yet,” he said. “Soon, I hope.” Kepi and Taz washed first, then headed into the steam room proper. Karik helped Romi undress, and their clothes were removed by a young boy whom Serkani had set to assist them. “I’ll bring you some clean ones,” he announced in a piping voice, then ran off. Romi sat on the low wooden bench, and began to soap himself—he was so tired, even that small task was an enormous effort. “Oh, sit still,” Karik snapped, taking the cloth out of his hand. “I don’t want you in here all day—it’s no better for you than the steam room.” Romi raised an eyebrow at his temper, but the hut wasn’t that private—there wasn’t a proper door, and the window was wide open—so he didn’t ask. He could guess at the reason. Karik was still rather subdued after the events of the morning, and though he’d handled it well, it had been the last thing any of them would have wanted for him. Karik washed his hair and body with brisk efficiency, with no more emotion than he would have shown a jombeker. Romi knew him too well by now to think it meant Karik was devoid of feelings concerning the task—rather the opposite. Romi also knew Karik too well by now to think the man would welcome him commenting, so he didn’t. He roughly rebraided his hair, left with only a leather drying cloth to cover his nakedness while Karik quickly washed himself. It gave Romi more than enough opportunity to assess how much condition Karik had lost. “When we get to Selnozi, I suggest you do nothing but eat for a week,” he said dryly. “At least I won’t have to worry about some kind friend doping it with gerot, will I?” “Karik—” Karik cut him off with a wave of his hand. “Forget it, it was a stupid comment. Are you as exhausted as you look?” “Almost certainly.” “Wait here,” Karik ordered, and left in search of Hanike. Romi leaned against the wall, trying to recover a little strength. Would he ever feel normal again? Hanike returned with Serkani and the young boy who was bearing changes of clothes for them both. Karik helped Romi dress, then as they emerged, Serkani beckoned them. “Come, we have a place
we keep for traders. You can rest there,” she said, taking Romi’s arm. “Karik, Hanike wishes to learn more from you. Go with her.” Romi saw Karik stiffen ever so slightly. “Ah, Serkani, I’m sorry—it’s very embarrassing, but ever since my illness, I’ve been unable to sleep on my own. Karik has been kind enough to help me rest— could you spare him, Hanike? I know I’m being very weak, but....” He gave Serkani his most pathetic look. “Of course, I understand you wanting to learn from him.” She made an impatient gesture. “Whatever is needed. Karik, come with me too. Burying your friend would only be a waste of a shroud, so we better keep him alive.” Karik managed a smile at that, though it didn’t reach his eyes. “Hanike, you can speak to him tomorrow.” They were taken to a small annex to the side of one of the larger huts, which held little more than a stove, bed, and behind a curtain, a dresser with a water jug, basin and a bucket for relieving oneself. Serkani explained that it was only used for a night or two every couple of months when visitors from other tribes stopped by and there wasn’t enough spare accommodation. It wasn’t exactly homey, though it was perfectly clean. Romi didn’t care—the pile of furs and the pillow were calling his name and he desperately needed to rest. Serkani told them to come to her hut when they woke, and were ready for a meal, then closed the door behind her. Karik helped him lie down, and the relief that came from getting off his feet was instantaneous. “You didn’t have to lie for me,” Karik said, covering Romi with a blanket and avoiding his gaze. “I wasn’t,” Romi said. “But if you want to be with Hanike, all you need to do is announce I’m asleep and you can go find her.” Karik shook his head. “I don’t...I guess I’m not as over it as I thought I was.” Romi patted the furs to invite Karik to at least sit beside him, and as he sat, touched his wrist. “Are you all right?” “I’m fine,” Karik said—Romi’s least favourite phrase out of his mouth. “So I’m just a brat, am I?” Romi grinned. “You were being pretty bratty this morning. What on earth possessed you to be so rude to that man? He could have killed you without a moment’s hesitation.” “He annoyed me,” Karik said dismissively. “After all we’ve been through, after surviving so much, to come up against all that shit again—well, I’d just had enough. Worked, didn’t it?” “Yes, it did. Just a bit too much stress for my battered heart, that’s all.” He rolled over on his side to face Karik—gods, this was such a comfortable bed. “You look pretty tired too. I don’t suppose I can tempt you to have a nap with me? “ “You suppose entirely wrongly, captain Romi,” Karik said, sliding down beside him. Romi rested his head on Karik’s arm. “You really can’t sleep without me?” he murmured. “Not right now,” Romi said honestly. “Do you mind?” “No...I’m glad you trust me enough.”
Romi looked into Karik’s eyes. “There is no one I trust more,” he said, clasping Karik’s hand between them. “You saved my life. I am forever in your debt.” “I didn’t,” Karik said, frowning. “You did it yourself.” “You just keep telling yourself that. I know the truth. Did they hurt you?” “Frightened me, that’s all.” “I’m sorry.” Karik shrugged. “They’re not bad people. We could have been spies, I guess.” “Yes, I told them about your attack beetles.” “My what?” “Never mind. Tell you later. Need sleep now.” He closed his eyes, and Karik’s arm tightened around him. Nice, he thought drowsily. Feels like....
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Staying Power: 33 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Karik watched Romi drift off into oblivion, the lines around his mouth and eyes easing as he fell asleep. Only then could Karik relax, and let himself think about.... No, he really shouldn’t think about that. He hadn’t been hurt, just scared a little, and they hadn’t tried to do more than restrain him. In their position, he’d have done the same. Better to concentrate on the fact they were safe, more or less. In a few days, Romi would be in what passed for a fair-sized town in this land, and surely there were healers there who could help him. In a city too, they wouldn’t be thrown so closely together, and the strange feelings that Romi aroused in him, might subside. It wasn’t the first time that a handsome man had excited Karik’s interest, but it was the first time since the rape—and the first time that the handsome man had become such a close friend. As Romi’s physician, he knew perfectly well he shouldn’t even be entertaining the notions which flitted across his mind from time to time. That didn’t stop them—or stop the unpleasant fears that rose on the back of them. He almost wished for the days when he’d loathed Romi—it had been much simpler. He got a little more comfortable—Romi’s position wasn’t what Karik would have chosen, but he’d have cut his arm off before moving the man. It took so little to weary him now, when once he had been almost irritatingly tireless. Karik had been so disappointed that Hanike had no local remedy for the marsh bug poison—he still hoped that Selnozi, or Visiqe’s academy, would have an answer. He didn’t want to have to tell Romi that his army career was indeed over. Gods, how this man moved him, and how he wanted to be close to him, even if it was only when Romi was asleep that he could relax and enjoy it. Just to hear him breathing normally, to see a natural colour in his cheeks and lips, was a reminder that Romi was not anywhere close to dying. Many a time Karik had woken gasping from a grief-filled dream, but the feel of Romi’s head against his cheek, or his hand around Karik’s, clasped tight, had anchored him to reality, and given him hope. Finally, that hope had been justified. Despite his weariness, he hadn’t thought he would sleep—too many strangers, too much to think about—but he did, though he had no way of knowing how long for. Romi was still asleep when Karik awoke. His arm was now completely numb, and he could ruefully predict what it would feel like as it recovered. Romi was frowning in his sleep—without thinking, Karik raised his hand and brushed the lines on his forehead, and Romi’s eyes opened immediately. “Did I wake you?” Karik asked, quickly pulling his hand away. “Don’t know,” Romi said sleepily, rolling a little and freeing Karik’s arm. “What’s the time? Did you sleep?” “I don’t know, and yes. How do you feel?”
Romi yawned and rubbed his eyes, then struggled to sit up. “Uh...better. Gods, I could get used to a bed like this.” “It would help you get well, I’m sure.” Karik began to surreptitiously rub his arm and tried not to wince at the returning blood. Ouch. “Doesn’t look like there’s much else we can try. As they keep saying, I should be dead.” Karik scowled. “I don’t care for their humour. Rest might be the only treatment, but don’t underestimate its power—even if we could just stop travelling, it would help.” “I don’t care what happens to me so long as I don’t have to watch you and Kepi and Taz killing yourselves and trying to hide it.” Karik looked up guiltily. “You’re all lousy actors.” “Don’t tell me you’d have done any different if any of us had been hurt. I know you.” “No, I’d have left you behind, I swear.” But his grin gave the lie away. “All right, I probably wouldn’t have—but we nearly failed.” “We didn’t. We haven’t. We’re going to get you home, and you’re going to get well.” Romi shook his head, smiling. “Stubborn little shit. Are you hungry? I’m starving.” Karik realised that yes, he was very hungry, and once they stepped out of the hut, it was obvious why, since it was close to sunset—he and Romi had slept the afternoon away. He wondered if Kepi and Taz had done the same, and guiltily realised he had barely given them any thought since he’d last seen them. But then, it wasn’t like they would be in any danger—they weren’t Prijian or anything. The fate of his friends became clear when he and Romi entered Deptonu’s hut—Kepi and Taz were lounging on the skins, eating and talking to one of the elders. They looked so much better even with just two meals they hadn’t had to forage for themselves, with the wash and the relief from stress. Romi had been right of course. They just could not have gone on pulling the travois in the shape they’d been in. Kepi smiled as he saw Karik and Romi. “Ho, the sleepyheads arrive.” “Take a seat,” Deptonu said. “You’re well?” he asked Romi. “Very well. Thank you.” “Good. My wife thought you and your ‘close friend’ would appreciate the privacy of the hut.” Karik sat bolt upright, not daring to look in Romi’s direction. If the ambiguous term—one which could mean either companion or lover, depending on context—that Deptonu had used hadn’t been a big enough hint, his decided leer would have been. Was he that obvious? “Karik is indeed my ‘close friend’,” Romi said, quite calmly. “As are Taz and Kepi. I hope you two found somewhere to have a rest?” “Hanike has a spare room for her patients,” Taz said, apparently oblivious to Karik’s embarrassment. “Gods, it was good to sleep in a real bed.” “Yes, it was. There is no end to our gratitude, friend Deptonu,” Romi said, bowing a little. “Ah well, the entertainment’s repaid it a little,” Deptonu said, slapping his knee. “Now, you want something to eat, yes? Serkani!”
The food was good, and generous in its portions—Karik couldn’t help but wonder what kind of burden they were placing on a tribe so close to winter, but then it was no less than a traveller in Darshian would be offered. After supper, drinking drizu, the journey to Selnozi was discussed. It turned out Taz had miscalculated—they were more like eighty miles than a hundred from the town—and the doigs could make it easily in three days. Karik was mainly concerned about the strain on Romi, but the tribe was not unused to carrying sick or elderly people in carts on such journeys. “You worry too much, little Prij,” Deptonu said with a grin. “We’ll carry him as sweet as a newborn.” Amidst the laughter, someone muttered a comment about a wet-nurse, which Karik didn’t quite catch, but Taz must have done because he gave the man a dirty look. Kepi laid his hand on Taz’s arm, preventing him from making any comment. Karik could guess what it had been about. His cheeks grew hot again, and he stared down at his mug. It was like being fifteen again. The discussion continued until Romi let out an extravagant yawn. “My apologies, my friends. I have no stamina these days. Will you excuse me?” “Of course. Sleep well.” Deptonu said, waving them off. “Kepi? Taz? You’ll be all right?” Romi asked. “We’re fine, captain,” Taz said. “Wait, I’ll walk you out,” Kepi said, getting to his feet. Someone handed them a small lantern—Romi had not revealed his gift so far as Karik knew, and perhaps it was wisest not to—and Kepi followed them out of the hut, taking Romi’s arm and drawing him aside. Karik moved back a little to allow the two men some privacy. “Romi, I.... I’m sorry. For what I said this morning. I was just angry.” “Yes, I know,” Romi said quietly. “It’s as much my fault as anyone’s—more, in fact. But you know, an officer’s authority can’t just be put aside when it’s inconvenient. It’s a serious thing, rejecting it.” “Yes,” Kepi mumbled, scuffing his feet. “Are you going to put me on a charge?” “Gods, man, are you serious? If anyone deserves to be on a charge, it’s me for dereliction. No, you’re not going on a charge. But I can’t let this happen again—it’s not a solution and you know it.” “No, Romi. I know.” “Good man. Now get some more rest—you need it as much as I do, and I’m telling you now, riding those pissing doigs is no fun. If you’re up to it tomorrow, get some practice—the saddles have got knobs on.” “Yes, captain.” He straightened up and saluted. “Good night. ‘Night, Karik.” Romi saluted in return, and Kepi wandered back inside Deptonu’s hut. Romi stared after him for a few moments. “I’m not fit to run a children’s picnic,” he muttered. “Don’t be ridiculous,” Karik snapped. “How could anyone have done a better job than you have?”
“Lots could have, and have done. I dare say my final report will give my colonel plenty to complain about.” “They better pin a pissing medal on you,” Karik said tartly. Romi just raised an eyebrow. “Your uncles aren’t going to be happy with your new way of expressing yourself.” “Fine—then when we finally get to see them again, they can tell me off. Can we get inside, please?” Despite all the sleep that afternoon, Romi looked tired again, and Karik couldn’t help but worry that, if merely eating and talking had worn him out, what a jolting cart ride at speed would do to him. Once in their quarters, Romi set the lamp down, and then, to Karik’s surprise, slung an arm across his shoulders. “Why so worried now? Still annoyed about Deptonu’s stupid remark?” Karik had almost forgotten it, but now his embarrassment returned. “I’m sorry they got the wrong impression.” Romi grunted, and released him, sitting on the bed to pull his boots off. Karik did the same, not daring to look at his friend. “Blow the lamp out, will you?” Karik obeyed and Romi lit a fire sprite to replace the lamplight, then got comfortable under the blanket. Karik felt a little uneasy joining him the way he had that afternoon—it was one thing to have private conflicts about his feelings, quite another to have those feelings mocked by a total stranger, however unknowingly. “You know, you shouldn’t let Deptonu bother you. He’s just trying to be funny.” “Well, he’s not,” Karik muttered, sitting on the bed. “I didn’t mean them to think I was your lover.” “I really don’t care what they think. They don’t know either of us, and if they were prepared to consider you a spy because you’ve got blond hair, and exonerate you because you draw beetles and know your healing, then they’re not the most profound thinkers in the world, are they?” Romi fixed him with a look until Karik shook his head, smiling slightly at the foolishness of the situation. “Besides, if they think you’re my lover, let them.” “I don’t want your reputation to suffer.” Romi’s eyebrows raised in amusement. “I wasn’t aware my reputation couldn’t stand being accused of being sexually attractive.” Karik flushed and looked away. “I would never consider being thought to be your lover was the least bit shameful. I think many people would be flattered, in fact. I know I am.” Karik looked at him in shock at the compliment. “Can I ask a personal question?” “What, this isn’t personal enough for you?” Romi laughed. “Well.... I assumed, perhaps unwisely because of your daughter’s existence, you were experienced in love. But you’re not, are you?” Karik shook his head, wondering if he could actually disappear into the floor with embarrassment. “I’ve never had a lover,” he said in a low voice. “Never slept with anyone...not, unless you count....” “Which we don’t,” Romi said firmly. “But your daughter? I don’t understand.”
“My friend, Seiki—she’s a Gifted mind-speaker. Her lover, Mila, is a normal, which is so rare as to be almost unheard of in Darshek. It’s not among the minor gifted as you know, but with the truly Gifted, Kei says there are only two records of it in two hundred years. And no truly Gifted has ever raised a child—as a parent, I mean. They raise the abandoned ones all the time, but it’s not the same.” Romi nodded. “Anyway, Mila was desperate for a family, as was Seiki, so....” “You helped them? Gods, if you’d heard how Soza had described the situation, you’d never recognise it from his words.” Romi’s voice dripped with disgust. “Er, how many times...?” “Three.” Karik twisted his hands. “Uh, I didn’t really enjoy it much.” “And apart from that?” “No one.” He lifted his head. “I never really had the time. Now I don’t know if I will ever want to. Every time I think about Soza and what he did, I want to vomit.” Romi patted the bed beside him. “Come lie down,” he said gently. Karik obeyed, feeling all kinds of a fool. “I’m sorry this is upsetting you.” “It’s all right. It’s not like I shouldn’t try to get over it.” “I think you’re doing amazingly well. It’s not really been very long, and it was about as nasty a crime as I’ve ever heard of. I’ve always admired how you’ve handled the whole thing.” “R-Really?” Romi’s eyes crinkled up in a smile. “Yes. Now don’t start getting anxious with me again. We’ve been through too much for that, don’t you think?” “Yes, I suppose we have.” “Yes. You, me, Kepi, Taz—it’s hard to think how any four people could be closer who weren’t related or in love. Now you know what we soldiers mean about being ‘brothers in arms’.” “I’m not a soldier.” “Doesn’t matter, Karik. You’re my brother, my ‘close friend’ as much as they are.” “Oh.” Karik should have been pleased, he knew, but somehow Romi’s words were curiously disappointing. He realised he’d been hoping Romi thought of him rather differently, but it shouldn’t have been a surprise that he didn’t. It was something of a miracle that they had even become friends, after all. More was just being greedy. And also wrong, he told himself firmly. Romi didn’t seem to notice his lack of enthusiasm. “So from one brother to another, I’m saying— you’re handling the attack well, and I think, when you’re ready and you find the right person, you’ll find a way to handle the intimacy thing. I’m not saying it won’t matter—of course it will. But I have faith in your ability to find an answer.” Romi gave Karik one of his most breathtakingly handsome smiles, the kind that always made him want to melt. “You know, this really isn’t the time or place to be worrying about it. Deptonu’s got a very strange sense of humour, if you ask me.” Karik was glad to change the subject. “What you said earlier—do you really think Kizinke’s reputation extends so far?”
“I don’t know—I was never certain which tribe he came from. He must have been damn sure we were dead or he’d have come back to finish us off. I don’t want him finding out we’re alive until he can’t hurt any of us again. I’d love to know what lies he’s telling everyone to explain our demise.” “People w-will think we’ve died,” Karik said, suddenly realising this. He wondered why it hadn’t occurred to him before that—too much else to worry about, he supposed. “Gods, my parents, K-Kei—” Romi took his hand and squeezed it. “Concentrate on the task in hand. Until we get home, we can’t do anything about that, or Kizinke, or any of it. The job’s not over, not by a long way, so let’s not distract ourselves. As I recall, we’re still on a scientific mission. You’ve still got work to do.” “And what are you going to do, oh leisured one?” “Oh, I’m going to watch and enjoy myself,” Romi said, grinning. Karik couldn’t help but grin back —it was so good to see him smile these days. “Better. Now, sleep. Try not to fret. And remember, whatever friend Deptonu thinks or says, you’re a son of Darshian, and nothing will change that.” He put his arm around Karik. “Good night.” The little flame sprite went out, and Karik got comfortable. “Good night. Thanks, Romi.” “You’re always welcome, Karik. Sleep well.”
~~~~~~~~ A useful little trick Romi had learned early in his army days was how to feign sleep credibly. It came in handy now as Karik lay watching him, obviously waiting for his charge to go to sleep before he would allow himself to rest. Romi was tired but not that tired—being horizontal was all he needed to recover from the slight exertions of the evening, and his claiming weariness had been for Karik’s benefit, not his own. He carefully imitated the breathing patterns of a man drifting into deep sleep, and not long after, felt Karik’s own breathing deepen and slow. Only then could he relax and metaphorically slap himself on the forehead for being such a fool. Pissing hells. Why hadn’t he realised Karik was, for all intents and purposes, a virgin? Certainly he’d been rather edgy about sexual topics since the rape but that had not surprised Romi in the least— he’d only begun to suspect there had to be more to it when he’d seen the brilliant scarlet Karik had turned at Deptonu’s tasteless teasing. What he had learned tonight had complicated things, and now he had to decide what to do. First things first. It made the effect of Soza’s attack much worse. He’d assumed Karik had had some pleasant memories of sex to offset his nightmares, but now it seemed there was nothing at all to compare them with. Romi could only hope that Karik’s first true lover would help heal over those memories. Which brought him to the second problem. In a perfect world, Romi would very much have liked to have been that first true lover. But in a perfect world, Romi would not be gifted, or a soldier, or Karik’s nominal superior. He would have to be insane to want to start anything with someone who had
never even tasted a normal relationship, not after what had happened with Daiso, and Kera—or with Soza. Which makes me insane, I guess. Why did Karik have to be so...Karik? He reminded Romi of the thoroughbred jesigs he’d seen in Utuk, all glossy looks and pride, but with hearts that didn’t know how to quit. That was Karik—a thoroughbred through and through, and the last person on earth Romi should be entertaining less than chaste ideas about. Karik saw Romi as a friend, and if he’d thought Romi was lusting after him, he wouldn’t have lain down so trustingly beside him, or be resting so peacefully now. The situation itself was another reason to put this nonsense firmly aside. They were living almost in each other’s clothing right now, and that was bound to distort things. It couldn’t last. So, that was that. Wrong place, wrong time, wrong person, and if Romi were stupid enough to put himself in a position where he might break Karik’s heart, there was always the matter of his highly protective uncles to consider. He had to laugh—only that morning, he and his team had been staring almost certain doom in the face, and now he was fretting about his love life. Human beings really were the most ridiculous creatures. And with that thought, he shoved unattainable desires to the back of his thoughts and settled down to sleep for real.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Staying Power: 34 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ All things considered, Romi would be glad to get out of the settlement, though it wasn’t for want of gratitude, or because the Andonese were unpleasant. They were good people—a little clumsy perhaps in handling strangers, and Deptonu wasn’t the most charming headman they’d encountered— but there was nothing evil or wrong about them. Still, it was a strain, being around strangers, concealing the real truth of what had happened on their mission, and watching Karik face unceasing curiosity about his origins. That curiosity made people infringe his personal space a little too often, and though Karik tried to appear nonchalant, there were definite signs of tension after a prolonged session of questions with people pressing close to listen. Other things brought stress too. Sitting in Hanike’s hut with a small group of women—Karik had made himself popular because of his medical knowledge—a mother handed Karik an infant to hold as she talked to him and the child reached up to tug on his braid, as children would do. He froze, his face stricken, answered whatever it was the mother wanted to know, then made an excuse to leave the hut, to relieve himself or so he’d said. Romi followed him outside, and found him staring into the distance, his eyes bright with tears. “What’s wrong?” Karik shook his head, then wiped his eyes hastily. “N-nothing.... Just...I miss Jes. She’ll be all grown up when we get home. If we get home.” “We’ll get home,” Romi said firmly, laying his hand on Karik’s shoulder, giving it a squeeze. “Why don’t we find out how Kepi and Taz are getting on?” Their teammates were being given lessons in doig riding, to the amusement of over a dozen idlers leaning on the wooden rails of the large pen and calling encouragement. It wasn’t hard to stay in the saddle, but the saddles were eccentrically designed, and, to Romi’s mind, unnecessarily uncomfortable. Doigs were bloody-minded creatures too, and prone to bite and buck if they took against you. Taz suffered the worst of it, as his animal simply refused to obey the smallest command—moving off as he tried to rein it in, and not budging at all when he kicked it to get it walking. “Why does your Pa want to breed these pissing animals?” Romi murmured. “Ouch.” Taz’s doig had just given him a painful nip on the arse, which brought forth a roar of laughter from the onlookers. Taz wasn’t the greatest animal handler in the world anyway, but Romi half-suspected he’d been given a particularly surly beast to maximise the entertainment value. Very strange sense of humour these people had. “Pa would love them,” Karik said, a wistful note in his voice. “He’d see them as a challenge. But they’d never last in Darshek—far too hot.”
“Up on the plain, they might. It’s not so humid.” “I wish we could take a pair back. He’d really like that.” “Maybe next time,” Romi said, before he remembered he might never be fit enough to go on another expedition. “Or I could ask Wepizi to arrange it—I’m sure he would.” “That would be wonderful,” Karik said. “Right now, I don’t think I can contemplate coming back. I don’t think Ma would ever forgive me.” “Missing them today, aren’t you?” Karik turned to him, his eyes soulful. “I don’t know why it’s worse now, when we’re nearly home.” “Because you’re daring to hope again. It’s natural. You’ll see them soon.” “It’ll be at least two months,” Karik pointed out. “What about you? Do you miss your family?” “Of course. I worry about Ma, if she’s had false reports of my death. Pa’s strong, but it’ll hurt him, I know. And there’s my brothers, my friends at Temshek and....” He stopped. Strange to think that not only would Dai be married by now, but also a father, if his wife had had her child successfully. He wondered if Daiso ever even thought about him these days. “And?” Karik was looking at him curiously. “And never mind. It’ll be good to be home.” “Romi...I don’t think I’ll be returning to the south anytime soon. I was due to come home anyway, but with this thing with Soza....” He looked down at his feet. “It’ll feel strange to say goodbye to you all.” “Ah. It’s the nature of soldiering, I’m afraid. Look at Kepi. I hadn’t seen him in two years before this. We’re still friends though.” Though Romi hadn’t heard about the divorce, and he could have been more assiduous in keeping up contact. No one ever did, though, in the army—they just assumed they’d hear the news, or run into one another again. Soldiers weren’t really much for letter writing. “I’m sure once you’re settled back in Darshek, you’ll be so busy you won’t ever think of us.” That got him an astonishingly fierce look. “I will always think of you,” Karik said, eyes flashing with anger. “I could never forget any of this, or any of you. How could you think that?” “Calm down. I just meant that this is an artificial situation, where we don’t have much to think about except each other and surviving. When we’re back home, we’ll be caught up in day-to-day things. You know we can’t live like this forever. At some point, we have to get back to our real lives.” Karik stared at him, searching his face for answers Romi didn’t have, then he turned away without another word. Romi felt bad about having said it, but it was the truth—the real world was a place where he and Karik lived at opposite ends of the country, did very different jobs and moved in very different spheres. He could promise to write, but what would be the point? Letters were such an inadequate way to communicate, and a poor substitute for the kind of sparky conversation he was used to having with this man. Somehow, he couldn’t see them having much of a relationship by mail.
Seeing Karik’s shoulders slump in depression, Romi fought the urge to hug him out of his sadness. It had to be faced—they all had to face it, unless Kepi and Taz really did move to Temshek. Perhaps it was just as well Karik realised it now, had a chance to accept it. Perhaps it was just as well that Karik lived too far away to be a real temptation. It was an early start, but there was time for a good breakfast and farewells. Hanike had one last hurried consultation with Karik before bowing to him and wishing them a good journey. In deference to their condition, and Romi’s poor health, the Andonese generously provisioned the group heading to Selnozi, lending the four of them warm clothes, and taking more food with them than Romi suspected they would do otherwise. He had wanted to ride in the driver’s seat of the cart. Karik had vetoed that immediately. “In the back, captain,” he said sternly. “I want you to rest.” “Karik, I’ll be fine....” “In the back, Romi. Damn it, man—you get out of breath walking from one end of the settlement to another, you can’t sit up for hours in a driving seat!” Geifeinu grinned at this, revealing his bad teeth. “You heard him, son of Darshian. Your Prijian wet-nurse wants her baby nice and safely tucked up.” Karik blushed, muttered something which sounded rather rude, and walked off to mount his doig. Naturally, he’d had no difficulty with the damn things at all, much to Taz’s disgust. Romi resigned himself to being hauled around like a bean sack, and waited for the cart to have a bed of furs and blankets laid in it. He really didn’t think this would be all that more restful, but one didn’t argue with their ‘little Prij’ when he was in a mood. The foul-breathed Geifeinu was not, to Romi’s relief—and he was sure, to that of the rest of his team—coming with them. Instead, another man and his son—Terinke and Tertonu—were to be their guides. Once Romi was settled in the cart and their supplies stowed, they were off, setting a rattling pace which made him grit his teeth. This was not going to be a comfortable journey. The one supreme advantage of doigs over the longer-legged urs beasts was their immense stamina —they could sustain a steady speed of six or seven miles an hour for several hours at a time, provided they were then allowed to rest thoroughly at the end of each day, and feed. Terinke and his son had opted to cover as much ground in the early part of the day as they could, allowing the group and their mounts to rest in the afternoon. Romi had no quarrel with this plan, since he felt the jolting would hardly be less with slower travel and would last for longer, but it worried Karik, who kept bringing his mount close to the cart to peer at its passenger. Finally Romi told him to stop and concentrate on his riding. “If you fall off and break your fair neck, I’ll have to explain how it happened to Lord Arman—and I’m in enough trouble as it is.” Karik gave him a dirty look, whipped up his animal and trotted off to keep pace with Kepi and Taz, who had finally got the hang of riding the cursed doigs, and were clearly relishing the speed after so many weeks walking. Romi just gritted his teeth again and hung on to the cart’s side.
He felt giddy and unwell long before the planned stop just after noon, but was unwilling to call attention to it since they were making such good progress. Finally the cart was pulled to a halt by a small stream and a large stand of trees, a good place to make camp. “Come on, my friend, time to get out,” Terinke said as his son jumped down to lower the steps. Romi nodded, and stood, preparing to move across the driving seat. As the world whited out, he dimly heard panicked shouts, and then....
~~~~~~~~ Karik was dismounting from his doig when he heard Terinke yell. He whipped around just in time to see Romi falling like a felled tree from the full height of the cart—he raced to catch him, but Terinke and Tertonu were ahead of him, breaking Romi’s fall and laying him in the dirt. “He collapsed,” Tertonu said, sounding rather stunned. “He’s fainted,” Karik said, kneeling by his friend. Romi was very pale, but already rousing a little. “No, don’t get up. Kepi! Bring a canteen!” Romi’s hand gripped Karik’s wrist, and the strength of the grasp was reassuring, though the dazed look in his eyes was not. “What...?” “You fainted. Lie still. Kepi! Oh, thanks, Tertonu.” He accepted the water bottle and offered a little to Romi. “Need to move—” “You need to stay right there,” Karik ordered. He looked around for a likely spot. “Can we lift him —gently—over there? And get some blankets around him?” Terinke quickly arranged things, and Romi was then carefully moved to rest under a tree. He still looked very grey and rather confused. Karik crouched by him and put his hand on his forehead—too cool—and his pulse was rather fast. He put another of the blankets around him, and cursed himself for not insisting they took it more slowly. Kepi knelt down. “Romi? Is he all right, Karik?” “He’ll be fine,” Karik said with more confidence than he felt. “The journey was a bit too much, that’s all. Romi, just rest there with Kepi for a few minutes. Kepi, don’t let him up.” Kepi nodded, and took charge. Karik stood, and found Terinke watching proceedings with a worried and rather guilty look on his face. “Will he be all right?” “Yes, I think so. He should rest, but he’s all right there for a while, until we get the tent up. Uh, but I think we need to go more slowly tomorrow.” Terinke bowed. “I’m sorry, my friend. We made it as easy as we could. He didn’t object.”
“No, I know.” Stubborn arse. “Perhaps a little slower, and a break or two would be easiest on everyone. Kepi and Taz are still recovering their strength, as am I. We’re sorry to put you to this trouble.” “No trouble, my friend. Deptonu wants us to get you there safe, and that’s what we will do. I hadn’t realised how ill he was.” “He puts on a good act,” Karik said grimly. “But getting to Selnozi as fast as we can is important too.” “We’ll make it in good time. Leave it to me,” Terinke said, clapping Karik’s shoulder, calling to his son and Taz so they could start dealing with the animals and then setting up the tent. Romi already looked better, much more alert and sipping unaided from the water canteen when Karik returned to him. “Sorry,” he said, giving Karik a rueful smile. “I should hope so too,” Karik snapped. “Why didn’t you tell someone you weren’t feeling well?” “To what end?” Karik started to make a smart retort, realised Romi was simply too exhausted to argue with, and gave up. “Oh, never mind. Kepi, stay with him.” He started to stand, but stopped as Romi grabbed his wrist again. “I’m sorry,” Romi said, pleading for forgiveness with his eyes. “It’s not really your fault,” he said gently, patting Romi’s hand. “Kepi, we won’t want to move him until the tent’s set up and we’ve got something hot for him.” “He’s safe with me,” Kepi declared. “Stop talking about me as if I’m not here,” Romi muttered. Karik grinned at Kepi. “Oops.” “Sorry, captain.” Karik stopped grinning as he walked away and out of Romi’s line of sight. It had been over a month since Romi had been bitten by the marsh bug. Sometimes he seemed to be improving, but then something like this happened and Karik thought he was getting worse again. At times like this, he really wished he was a proper healer. Maybe if he were, he could move to south Darshian.... And there he went again, fantasising. He wasn’t even back in Darshian yet and he was already making plans to somehow.... What, Karik? Trail after Romi like a lovesick teenager? Leave his own family and all who loved him, to wander after a man who just saw him as a friend? That was idiotic. But even as he worked to make a shelter for Romi, and worried about his continued weakness, he couldn’t help but try and think of a way of avoiding the inevitable parting. Even if Romi didn’t see him as anything but a brother, Karik couldn’t accept that they would just move back into their own lives and never meet again. But he had to accept it. He had two months to get used to the idea, and then to say goodbye. He needed to damn well grow up. And wasn’t this exactly the reason he’d always said he had no time for
romantic foolishness? It was a waste of time, mental energy and emotion, and in their situation, it was downright dangerous. Concentrate, he told himself sternly. The job wasn’t over, just as Romi said. With that resolution firmly in hand, he forced himself not to sit at Romi’s side—after all, Kepi was a perfectly good nurse, and enjoyed Romi’s company every bit as much as Karik did—and went off with Taz and Tertonu to explore the local area, foraging a little, seeing if there were any plants of interest, and stretching legs unused to riding. He had always considered himself fit, and could keep up with many a man taller and better built than himself—but now he had legs like iron bands, and if there was an ounce of fat left on his frame, he’d be amazed. His Ma would have a fit at the sight of him, if she didn’t pass out from shock when he returned. They were all terribly thin, of course—Terinke and Tertonu, hardly overweight by any measure, looked plump and well fed next to the four of them. All in all, though, they were in better shape than they could have been—and Taz and Kepi were fast recovering condition, which was a relief. If only Romi would recover so fast. He had been horribly selfish lately, monopolising Romi’s company under the pretext of attending to his physical needs, when it had been his own needs that he had been pandering to. It didn’t mean Karik had to stop looking after him. It just meant giving his other friends—who were, as Romi said himself, as close as brothers—more time with him. After all, they had paid a heavy price to make sure Romi was still alive. Kepi and Taz took it for granted that Karik would sleep at Romi’s side as usual, and it would cause a fuss to argue about it, so he didn’t, telling himself firmly it was no different from sharing a bed with Gyo, or even his Pa. He didn’t even want to think about how different it might be to lie with a lover of his own. This strange guilty pleasure at feeling Romi’s body behind his own was as much as he was prepared to explore for now, and even this was wrong. Such a violation of his ethical duty as a healer— Kei would be so ashamed of him. The tent fell silent, and it wasn’t long before gentle snores echoed faintly in the air. Annoyingly, Karik found he was wide-awake, recognising the familiar symptoms of insomnia brought on by unfamiliar surroundings. But he had to get some sleep. “Karik?” The soft whisper next to his ear startled him, until he realised it was just Romi—he’d thought the man had fallen asleep some time back. He rolled over very quietly. “What?” “What’s wrong?” “Nothing. Why are you awake?” They were speaking so softly, their faces so close, Romi’s voice was little more than puffs of air on his cheek. “Are you angry with me?” “No, of course not.” “And you’re not upset about anything?” “No. I just can’t sleep, that’s all.” He heard a quiet grunt. “I promise I’ll tell you if I feel sick again. I’m sorry.”
“I’m not angry with you!” There was a pregnant pause. “You sound it.” “Oh, go to sleep.” He felt his friend stiffen, and then Romi rolled over in the other direction. Karik didn’t move. He really had to resist the urge to cling to the man. It wasn’t healthy for either of them.
~~~~~~~~ “How can you get worse just lying in bed?” Karik said with a sigh, feeling his forehead and his pulse. “Do you feel sick or are you just tired?” “Tired. Didn’t sleep well.” Was that a flash of guilt on his friend’s face? “I’ll be all right, if we take things a little easier today.” “We certainly will,” Karik said firmly. “But more than that....” He went off to talk to Kepi. Romi lay back, feeling useless and helpless and half-wishing Kepi hadn’t interrupted his grand gesture all those weeks ago. Even getting to Selnozi wouldn’t end this. They still had to get to Tsikiugui, and Terinke had told them there were really only two choices if he couldn’t ride—barge or wagon. The former would take six weeks or more, and might not be an option if the river froze early, while the latter would be at least a month of jolting before they got to Agen port, then they would have to catch a boat going east along the coast. Neither sounded very appealing. If he could just get on an urs beast, he was sure he would manage better. “Right, captain,” Karik said, returning with Kepi at his side. “Meet your bodyguard. Kepi, you stick by him all day, and if he looks the least out of sorts, you call me over. Romi, don’t give him the trouble you gave me yesterday for trying to watch out for you—he’s much more likely to tie you up.” “Karik, you don’t need to waste Kepi’s time this way—” “Stop talking about me as if I’m not here,” Kepi retorted, grinning like a fool at the joke. “Come on, Romi, you and I never get a chance to talk these days.” “And that’s absolutely true,” Karik said, fixing Romi with a hard look. “Besides, I want a chance to talk to Tertonu—he knows a lot about the plants of this area, and as you said, I’ve still got my work to do. I know we can’t do any collecting, but I can still make notes.” “So there, captain,” Kepi said. “It’s all set.” “Fine. Do as you wish,” Romi grumped. Karik just shook his head and walked off. “You don’t need to ride with me every minute, though. You can keep up with Taz.” “Taz and I see each other all the time,” Kepi said, no longer smiling. “Karik reminded me that when we get to Darshian, I won’t see you again, possibly for years. Said he felt guilty for taking up all your time, lately, though it’s not his fault. But if you hate the idea, I’ll—” “No, it’s fine. Karik’s right. Sorry. I’m just in a bad mood this morning.”
“I don’t mind. I’m just damn glad you’re here to be in a bad mood at all. But a mug of drizu and some porridge will help. Let me get it.” As he watched Kepi wander off out of the tent to fetch his breakfast, Romi suddenly realised what was going on—the conversation he’d had with Karik, had hit home, and Karik was simply being as sensible and practical as he always was, far more sensible and practical than Romi was, certainly. He was doing exactly what Romi would want him to do, exactly what he should do. So why was Romi left feeling so bereft, like he was losing something precious that he should be fighting harder to keep? There was nothing to be done about the situation and they both knew it. And whining about it was unbecoming of an officer and an adult, so he simply would not. He would be Karik’s friend until they parted, and then get on with his life. As would Karik. Damn it.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Staying Power: 35 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Selnozi was a town of only a thousand or so souls, Terinke said, lying widely scattered around a quiet reach of the Gavime river, a few miles above where it joined the Noru, one of the main routes for trade across this part of Andon. As soon as Tertonu spotted the first farm, Romi asked Kepi to call Karik over. “Something wrong?” Karik asked, bringing his doig in close. “Yes. When we get into town, you stay by me no matter what. Where you go, we go, and vice versa.” Karik’s eyes widened. “You think they might arrest me?” Romi reached up and tugged Karik’s thick blond braid. “This really is the most inconvenient travel accessory. It’ll be fine—but don’t let them separate us.” “We’ll look after you,” Kepi said. And he would—Kepi’s protective streak was as well developed as Karik’s. Romi insisted on being allowed to ride into town on the driving seat, clinging to the outside next to Terinke and his son. The town was quiet, with no one rushing up to greet them as they did in Darshianese villages, or to defend themselves as in the settlements. Their arrival caused no activity at all, though the people who looked and saw the braids, did stop for a moment or two to stare. Karik had covered his hair with his cloak hood—a wise precaution, Romi thought, and again wished he had not lost their travel credentials with his packs. Terinke drove them to the barracks, a small establishment that looked as if it had been rebuilt in the last few years. He shouted casual greetings to the soldier at the guard post. “Got a few lost Darshianese for you. Figure you can take over now.” Romi was helped down from the cart, and gathered his dignity—and his cloak—around him as he bowed to the guard. “Greetings, my friend. I am Captain Romi of the Darshianese army, and I need assistance.” The fresh-faced soldier, who didn’t even look eighteen, did a double take, then bellowed for his companions. In a short space of time, their party, less the two Andonese who said they’d return later to discover their fate, was being escorted to the office of the senior officer, one Jiren Palanze—it was too small an outpost for a lep, and jiren was, so far as Romi understood it, only slightly senior to a captain in rank. The man seemed nonplussed at their arrival, but listened politely to Romi’s now well-practiced explanation. “You have no papers and no proof of your business at all, you say?” “No, to my regret, I don’t. We lost almost everything in the landslide.” The jiren grunted as he nodded, walking around them. “You—you with the hood. Please remove it.”
Romi moved closer as Karik reluctantly obeyed. The jiren turned to him. “Explain, captain. Why have you a Prij with you?” “Karik’s not a Prij, jiren. He was adopted as a baby by a Darshianese couple and was raised as one of our own. He’s never lived in Kuprij.” “And I don’t suppose you have any proof of that either.” That was addressed to Karik. “No, sir.” “Jiren, Karik’s uncle is Lord Arman of Darshek. You must have heard of him.” “Of course—we’re not that backward, captain,” the man said severely. “But while Lord Arman certainly exists, I have no proof at all that any of you have anything whatsoever to do with him. You must understand this is highly irregular and I need time to consider what to do. For now, you three will be fed and provisioned, but this young man will be taken into custody. Groi, fetch three soldiers, will you?” The groi saluted and left to fetch help. “No.” Romi came to Karik’s side. “Forgive me, Jiren Palanze, I can’t permit that.” “You’re not in a position to permit anything, my friend. This man apparently belongs to an enemy state, and I must take the steps required to protect this outpost.” “Then where he goes, I go,” Romi said. “Me too,” Kepi said. “And me,” added Taz. The jiren frowned. “As you wish, but I think you will come to regret your loyalty—our brig is very small.” “Sir, may I speak?” The jiren took up his seat again and gave Karik an irritated look. “Yes?” “I have a friend, Tiremze, who comes from a settlement to the east of Selnozi. Is there any chance he might be in town or contactable?” Irritation became surprise. “Tiremze? Engineer Tiremze?” “Yes. Son of Kozan. He was studying at the academy when I met him. He could vouch for my identity. He met my family and knows my background.” The jiren rubbed his chin. “He’s away from Selnozi now, but word could be got to him. Not easily —it would take a few days.” Karik shrugged. “If it helps us get home, then a few days won’t matter. But I beg you not to lock captain Romi up—he’s ill and needs proper care.” The officer looked startled. “Ill? Why didn’t you mention this before, captain? Is it infectious? Someone tell me what is going on here.” Karik quickly explained what had happened to Romi and what his condition was—Romi let him do it without interruption, since it could only enhance the picture of a harmless healer going about his
business. “So if you could see your way to letting him rest somewhere comfortable, it would make a very great difference.” “In the name of the benevolent god.” He heaved a sigh. “Very well. None of you look in a fit state to make a dash for it, so I’m prepared to give you the run of the barracks. You must not leave them, or cause any difficulty, and you will make sure the guard post knows of your whereabouts at all times. I’ll have a letter sent to Engineer Tiremze—if you’re telling the truth, and I can’t see why you would make up such a detail, then we won’t be delaying your journey much. The next trade caravan won’t be leaving for a fortnight.” Karik bowed. “That’s fortunate, actually. The captain needs time to recover—we all do, actually. Thank you.” The jiren raised his eyebrows at the thanks. “Nice manners, at least,” he muttered. “Not what I expected from the Prij.” “Fortunately they didn’t have the teaching of me,” Karik said with a smile. Romi was proud of the way he was handling this—he didn’t seem nervous, and was being as courtly as one could wish. If his parents in that little village had taught him this, they must be remarkable people. There was a knock at the door—the groi had returned with the three, now unneeded, assistants. “It’s all right, groi Vitizu. We’ve made other arrangements. These men are to be fed and clothed, and beds sorted for them in the sleeping quarters. If you could send my clerk in on the way out, I need to write a letter. Captain Romi, if you could return to this office tomorrow morning, we can have a more leisurely conversation about your mission, but for now I would like your personal oath that you and your people will abide by my restrictions.” “Willingly given, Jiren Palanze. On my honour as an officer and a man of Darshian, and by the name of my clan, I am so sworn.” The jiren grunted. “Good enough. We’re a small outpost here, captain, but my men and women are well-trained. Don’t imagine we’re provincial dullards who won’t care if you escape.” “I would never think that, since my barracks are just as small.” That brought the first genuine smile from the officer. “So you know what it’s like. Go, get fed and rested. If your story is true, you’ve had quite an ordeal. I’ll send our healer to you once you’re settled, though it seems you have your care under control.” “We have been very fortunate to have Karik with us, jiren.” “So it seems. Groi? Please take them in hand, and make it your responsibility to know where they are at all times.” The junior officer bowed and then beckoned them all out of the office. Karik blew out his cheeks with relief, and Kepi grinned. “No one can resist our combined charms, eh, captain?” “I think we owe most of that to Karik, actually,” Romi said. “You better damn well hope your friend speaks up for you.”
Karik turned. “The worst that will happen is that we’ll be stuck here until someone can get word from Visiqe or Tsikiugui.” “Winter in Andon? No thanks,” Taz said with a shiver. The young officer leading them across to the sleeping quarters, grinned at them. “I always heard you Darshianese were soft. Look at you, all bundled up even though it’s a beautiful warm day.” Romi gave him a baleful look, since it wasn’t just the low temperature outside that made him so cold. “Soft, are we? When we just walked six hundred miles from Mount Arzha with nothing more than a couple of blankets and an axe to help us?” “A mere stroll, we do that all the time.” Gods—not another one. Young Groi Vitizu clearly fancied himself a comedian too. Romi really hoped Karik’s friend would come through sooner rather than later. This could get very wearing indeed.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Staying Power: 36 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ To Romi’s relief, the enforced rest wasn’t anything like as tiresome as he feared it might be. The soldiers of this backwater were a good bunch, mostly young and drawn from the local area, though one or two had come from the south. For that reason, Romi told his team to remain reticent about Kizinke —he disliked concealing facts when they had been treated so fairly, but without bona fides, and being entirely dependent on the goodwill of these soldiers, he just couldn’t risk that Kizinke might have familial or friendship ties here. Other than that, the four of them were as open as they could be about their mission and their work, and there was a good deal of mutual curiosity about the other army’s activities. Once again, Karik proved that, given even half a chance, he could make himself at home in the most unlikely of surroundings, and very quickly their confinement was in name only. Karik was even granted permission to meet local healers and discuss remedies and herbs with them—his diary was now supplemented by donated notebooks, and he was busily making notes and taking medicine samples, though Romi reminded him that everything had to fit in one pack. He didn’t want Karik’s enthusiasm overwhelming the capacity to transport the stuff. A lot of the time, Romi found he was completely abandoned by his team as they were lured off to talk to far more interesting people. He didn’t really mind—well, not much. He spent the first two days mostly sleeping, and even after that, he found he wasn’t good for much after a couple of hours unless he was able to rest again. Since Karik was off exploring so much of the time, he had to take his own rehabilitation in hand, so he surreptitiously increased his activities each day. A little more time walking, a little longer before he would allow himself a rest. It was hard—every little extra was hard, every added exertion draining reserves of energy that were puddle deep at the best of times. But he had to get well again, or he would have no career, and no real options other than that—he had no trade, couldn’t work as a farmer if he had a bad heart, and no special learning. It was mortifying to know just how much he defined himself by his physical wellbeing, and how few options he had once it was gone. The weather was steadily getting colder, which made his exercise even tougher, and they had already had the first light snow of the season, though it had quickly melted away. He wanted to get away from Selnozi before the deep winter—he knew his heart just would not stand that degree of cold —but all they could do was wait. If Karik’s friend didn’t reply, then all that would be going to Agen port would be a letter from Jiren Palanze to Tsikiugui barracks—and they would be stuck in the middle of nowhere for months. It would probably finish him off, though he never said a word to the others about it. They had got this far with incredible luck—when it ran out completely, then he would face the hard facts, but not before.
“And what do you think you are doing, captain Romi?” Romi froze in mid-dismount, startled by the angry voice, but pretended casualness as he finished getting off the doig and handed the reins to the waiting soldier. “What does it look like I’m doing?” He turned to face his friend, and found Karik standing there, looking extremely irritated. “Looks to me like you’re being a pissing idiot, that’s what it looks like. You know you’re not up to riding yet.” “Actually, this is the third time this week I’ve been out. Only around the training track, though.” “Th...Third!” Karik came forward as Romi leaned casually on the side of a stall, trying to hide how tired he was. “Are you insane? Why didn’t you tell me you were doing this?” “You weren’t here.” Karik’s eyes widened. “You...! What about in the evening? You couldn’t casually mention that you’re taking such a risk with your health?” “To what end?” Romi asked mildly. “I wasn’t aware I needed your permission to do anything, actually. A soldier is responsible for his own fitness, and I might be an invalid, but I’m still a soldier.” “But....” “But what, Karik? You can’t be here holding my hand. This is going to go on far longer than you’ll be around. Anyway, it’s working. I’m better, I know it.” “Yes, deeply convincing, captain, with your legs shaking and your face as white as snow. You are such a stubborn arse. I wash my hands of you.” He turned to storm out of the stables. “Wait,” Romi called. “Did you come in for a reason or just to catch me out?” “I...oh.” Karik’s irritation softened. “See what you did? You made me forget!” “Forget what?” Romi straightened. He’d been sliding down the post in his tiredness, and used feigned impatience to cover his fatigue. “You need to rest, you stupid man. Lean on me.” There really was no fooling this brat, Romi thought ruefully as he was helped over to some feed sacks to sit down. “Well?” “Tiremze wrote—gave Jiren Palanze a full description of me, told him all about Arman and Kei and generally called me a good chap.” He grinned suddenly. “He also said if I fancied a job, the engineers could always use the help.” “And are you going to accept?” “Not this time around,” he said dryly. “Anyway, that seals it as far as the jiren is concerned. We’re free to go and he’ll offer us all assistance to get back to Tsikiugui. He can’t spare more than a couple of soldiers—I thought we wouldn’t need anyone, actually. But apparently there’s a broken down old wagon, the kind that traders live in with their families. They’ll help us repair and outfit it, and we can
then take it to Agen port.” He looked Romi up and down. “You’re not up to four weeks in a wagon, are you?” “I’ll just have to be, won’t I? When does the wagon train leave?” “Four days. I’m serious.” “So am I. I’ll be part of that caravan or die trying.” Karik touched his shoulder. “I really don’t want that,” he said in a quiet voice. “I’m not exactly full of joy at the prospect either. Stop focussing on the problems, give me solutions. I can ride, I’ve proved that.” “No, you pissing can’t.” All Karik’s irritation flared into life again, and his eyes flashed with annoyance. “Maybe a few minutes here and there—but not for hours, not in the cold. Don’t be an idiot. If you had a soldier under you behaving like this, you’d wring his neck and you know it.” “If I had a soldier under me behaving like this, I’d just hand him to you and that would be enough punishment.” Karik stuck his tongue out and Romi laughed in shock. “Very grown up.” “It’s all you deserve, you stubborn arse,” he said, trying to look severe, but then he grinned. It was like the sun coming out. Gods, I miss you. “Maybe so, but it’s not an answer. So concentrate. If we’re forced to travel with the wagon train and we can’t hold them up, then I have to ride at their pace.” “Come and have some drizu, and we can talk about it.” “Can I use the steam room tonight?” Karik sighed in exasperation. “No. It’s too great a risk, and you’ve already put a strain on yourself today. You have to resign yourself to the fact you won’t be using the steam room again before we leave Andon. It’s not just the heat—it’s the razika they use. I’m sorry.” He was right, but it was still a disappointment. He loved the steam room. More than that, Karik wasn’t using it because Romi wasn’t, and he felt bad about that—but he knew why, and didn’t want to push. “Oh well. Come on, I want that tea.” Groi Vitizu was taking his ease in the sleeping quarters when they turned up, and so was asked for his advice. “Hmmm. The wagons will be heavily loaded and only going about two miles an hour. Is that intolerable for you, Romi?” “That will be a lot easier than the cart getting here, certainly.” “Yes, but it’ll be all day, Romi,” Karik pointed out. “From dawn to dusk, and only the briefest stop in the day. You had the afternoon to recover before.” “Well, then I’ll just have to manage, get what rest I can in the wagon. I won’t die, Karik.” “You might.” “Fine. Then I die. Somehow, I’m betting I won’t.” Vitizu looked at Romi, then at Karik, in evident alarm. “Your condition remains that serious?”
“No.” “Yes!” Karik glared at him. “Damn it!” “At some point, life becomes not worth living if you take no risks. I won’t risk anyone else, but I claim the right to risk myself.” “Kepi will wring your neck!” “Only if you tell him. And you won’t, because I’m asking you not to. We all want to go home. I’m prepared to take a risk. I’m not doing this in ignorance. All soldiers know they could die doing their job —this is no different.” Karik stood suddenly, his face red with anger. “It is different!” “How?” “Because...because.... You’re not allowed, that’s why!” He whirled and stalked out, his hands clenching into fists at his side, leaving the two soldiers rather stunned. Finally Vitizu coughed. “Ah...he’s a very passionate young fellow, isn’t he? My friend, is there nothing we can do to make this journey safer?” Romi was still wondering why Karik was so insistent he was somehow exempt from the normal rules that applied to soldiers. “Uh, whatever you can come up with, I’d be grateful. I think he’s overreacting.” “If you say so. He doesn’t strike me as the type, though. Leave it with me, my friend. I will make enquiries.” “Thanks, Vitizu,” Romi said distractedly. He sipped his now cooling tea as the other man left. What did Karik want him to do? Sit in Selnozi? Have them all sit in Selnozi? They had very limited options. Damn it, one minute people were shouting at him for not wanting to move on, and the next minute he was getting it in the neck for doing just that. He’d never realised how being sick handed other people so much say in his doings. It really was very tiresome.
~~~~~~~~ Karik leaned against the wall of the stables and thumped it hard with his fist. What was Romi thinking? How could he talk so casually about dying, as if it was of no importance to anyone but himself? They’d been over this already! He wasn’t going to die—Karik wouldn’t let him die. That pissing, stubborn, irritating arse. A hand descended on his shoulder and he nearly jumped out of his skin with shock. “Hey! Easy, Karik, it’s just me.” Kepi came around in front of him and peered worriedly into his face. “What’s wrong?” “N-Nothing, you just s-startled me.”
“Are you sure? You look upset.” “I’m just annoyed. I’ve got g-good news—we’re free to go. We can leave with the caravan.” Kepi’s face broke into a wide smile. “That’s great news! I want to get back to Darshian. I’m tired of wandering. What about Romi? He’s up to it, isn’t he?” Karik bit his lip—on the one hand, he wanted Kepi’s help, but on the other, Romi had just asked him not to violate his privacy. “If we take care, he will,” he said cautiously. “The days will be long, that’s my main concern. Any idea how to make it easier on him? You know what riding in a wagon can be like.” “Yes, I do. How about we try this...?”
~~~~~~~~ Romi served himself more drizu, and tried to recover the relatively good mood he’d been enjoying earlier that day—before Karik’s tantrum. Damn it, it was just a wagon ride. They weren’t even going very fast—Karik was just being overly cautious. He jumped, spilling tea all over his hand as the inner door of the sleeping quarters slammed open and Karik came stalking in. “Right, this is how it will be, captain Romi. You,” he emphasised the words with a finger stabbed in Romi’s direction, “will be resting on as many furs, pillows and blankets as we can borrow or steal, and you will be accompanied by one of us at every moment. You will not make a solitary unnecessary movement, you will stay well wrapped up and warm, and you will eat properly and sleep properly. Is that clear?” He stood with hands on hips, glaring furiously at Romi, daring him to argue. “Perfectly,” Romi murmured. “Good!” And then he stomped out again. The tea still dripped from Romi’s hand. He shook it absently, and then licked it clean, laughing to himself. What a beautiful man. Magnificent even. But such a little snot.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Staying Power: 37 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ So, finally, they were on the homeward stretch. Romi had to hand it to Karik—he planned the details of Romi’s transport as carefully as any colonel would. The only thing he’d have liked to dispute was Karik’s insistence on Kepi or Taz being his companion during the day. Yes, at night, Karik returned to his side, but they never had a chance to talk, since Romi was exhausted by then. In the day, Romi never saw the man, except as they ate a hurried lunch, or on those few occasions when he was suffering more than usual, and Karik came to the wagon to check on him. There was little to be done of course—the only real solution was to stop travelling, and that wasn’t an option. The wagon that had, with the ungrudging generosity of the soldiers and people of Selnozi, been refurbished to a high standard, was quite comfortable. It was designed for a small family to live in for months on end, so, while there was little unused space, everything was compact and well-designed, incorporating a small stove, wooden vents in the side with wind guards, and oiled skin panels in the wood and felt covering which let in dull light. Karik had arranged for the floor to be packed with furs and blankets so it was a soft resting place, and the numerous pillows and bolsters he had begged from who knew where, absorbed much of the jolting. At night, the four of them slept packed tightly together in the small space—by day, Romi and whoever was with him could sit comfortably and talk. Karik rode with the wagon drivers. Romi couldn’t help but envy him the fresh air and freedom, though he knew he couldn’t really tolerate the temperatures. By now, the weather was bitterly cold, and it didn’t take much urging for Kepi or Taz—often both —to join him for hours at a time. It was a good arrangement, keeping him distracted and amused as the endless miles wore on, and when he needed to sleep, his companions helped keep him warm. He needed all the help he could get in the first week, which was the hardest to bear. After that, it was easier, though he couldn’t tell if it was his tolerance improving, or his health. Karik didn’t want to venture an opinion, he said. The scenery—what little he saw of it—was dull. He poked his head out from time to time, but there wasn’t much to see but snow. He would have loved to have been allowed to jump on a doig and go hunting for winter game, but if the cold didn’t kill him, Karik surely would. He worried endlessly about his diminished fitness, and did what exercises he could in the privacy of the wagon, but until he could walk and run and swim without it being a fatal risk, he wasn’t going to regain his strength. All he could easily do was work on things like his stamina, forcing himself to stay awake during the day and sleeping only at night. As the days went by, this too became a little easier, though it meant the days themselves became longer and duller. It felt sometimes like he had been travelling his entire life, and was heartily sick of it after just two weeks.
He was trying to recall the details of one of the settlement visits for his report when the motion of the wagon changed, then stopped, to his surprise since it was only a few hours since breakfast, and couldn’t be noon yet. He laid book and pencil down and climbed to the back of the wagon, peering through the flaps. Karik rode towards him on his borrowed doig. “One of the wagons has broken a wheel. We’ll have to stop for the day—they’ll have to unload it before they can mend it.” “I’m getting out.” “Romi, no—” “I’m getting out.” He pulled on his winter gear—yet another piece of generosity from Jiren Palanze—and climbed out of the wagon. Karik had dismounted and tied the doig to the back of the vehicle. “There’s no need for you to get all chilled.” His words blew great white plumes out in front of him—it was a perfectly still day, thick snow all around them and so cold, it would freeze your spit on your lips, though there was an undeniable beauty to the harsh landscape and the grey light that hung over it. “I’m not—but the wagon is stuffy and I’m getting a headache,” he said. “I promise to go inside in a bit. I just felt like seeing if I remembered what you looked like by daylight.” Karik gave him a startled, slightly guilty look. “Aren’t you and Kepi and Taz enjoying each other’s company? They said they were.” “Of course I am. Why don’t you and I go for a walk? I really need the exercise, and if you’re with me, you can’t whine about me overdoing it.” “I never whine, and besides I should help—” Romi held his hand up. “Kepi and Taz are over there, and the wagon drivers are perfectly experienced. And I’m the sick man, needing his healer, so I’m pulling rank.” Karik frowned at him. “You’re bossy.” “I’m the captain, remember? I get paid to be bossy. Come on. Just a little stroll—even toddlers can do that in Andon. Please, Karik?” He hated being reduced to begging, but Karik could be so stubborn sometimes, admittedly for the very purest of motives. Finally Karik sighed and agreed, though he still insisted on telling one of the wagon drivers where they were going, as if they were planning an all day outing instead of a walk of a few hundred yards. Only then would he let Romi walk slowly across the pristine snow, away from the eight wagons that made up their caravan, holding his arm carefully. “I really should do this every day,” Romi said. “Even if I wasn’t sick, just lying around would make me soft.” “If it wasn’t so damn cold, I’d agree—but the cold is a killer.” “Yes, I know, but the risk is small and, gods, it’s good to get out again.” It was snowing again, just a few flakes here and there. Already the snow was a foot or more deep, and it wasn’t even winter properly yet. “So, how are you enjoying it?”
Karik brightened immediately. “Oh, it’s interesting—they’re good people. When they found out what Pa did, that’s given us a lot to talk about, and I’m learning a lot about this region. It’s not as interesting as the mountainous areas, but it’s very fertile—you know it’s one of the major grain producing areas in Andon. I’ve been taking notes,” he added virtuously. “I bet you have,” Romi said with a smile. “So...more interesting than coming to talk to me?” Karik shot him a guilty glance. “I thought Kepi and Taz—” “Yes, yes—you want to give them time with me before we part, which is very nice of you. I know you don’t want to get too close to me for the same reason, but it’s a little unflattering that you can put me aside so easily.” “I don’t!” Karik’s cheeks pinked up over the top of his beard and the muffling scarf. “There’s no future in it,” he muttered. “So that’s that, is it? Because we won’t see each other later, you ignore me now? What about memories? What about enjoying the here and now? Are we not to be friends because we can’t always share time with each other?” “I’m sorry, “ Karik said quietly. “I was just trying to do the right thing.” “You were. You are. I’m not criticising you. I’m just saying you have the choice, if you want it. Even if we don’t see each other after we get to Darshek, I will always consider you a friend.” “So will I!” Karik declared fiercely. “It’s just....” “Just...?” “I might never know what happens to you! Like Jou and Sibu and the others—I might never know if you get well, or you die, I just...I hate it!” He stomped off across the snow to a tree stump, standing by it and staring out over the snowy expanse. Ah. It wasn’t quite what Romi had thought it was, then. He trudged slowly over to his friend, careful not to slip, and then put a hand on Karik’s shoulder. “I’ll write, I swear.” “It’s not the same! I’ll just worry all the time!” “I’m sorry, Karik. I know it’s hard. Soldiers do this all the time but it doesn’t make it easy. Just like I don’t suppose it was easy for your parents to see you go off to Andon.” “I just want....” Karik looked up with reddened eyes. “I’m being childish. It’s not like anything can be done about it.” “No, it can’t,” Romi said gently. “I know what it’s like to worry about friends. But when it comes down to it, life is always uncertain.” Karik scrubbed angrily at his face. “I don’t know how to deal with this. Friends who betray me, friends who worry the life out of me—people are too much damn trouble.” Romi had to laugh at that crotchety declaration. “Yes, they are, but we still need them. Where would I be without my friends, after all?” Karik stared at him. “Where would I be, you mean. And where will I be when you’re gone?”
Romi manfully resisted the urge to hug the sadness out of his friend. “You underestimate yourself. Look at how far you’ve come, and all on your own. Yes, we helped you when you needed it—but you don’t need us now. You’re doing fine.” “I do....” But then he straightened up. “Fine. No, I don’t need you. But I’m still going to worry.” “Of course you will. Just do what makes you happy—that’s all I want.” Karik’s gaze was intent. “That’s all I want. I mean, for you. I mean, all of you, not just you...oh, damn it!” Romi patted his shoulder and grinned. “I understand. Now, I think I’ve reached the limits of my endurance for the cold, so why don’t you come and keep me company for a bit. I’d like your help with my report. There are some things I can’t recall.” “I can do that,” Karik said, and his eager face warmed Romi’s battered heart. He really would miss this beautiful man. Damn that Soza. If it weren’t for him, Karik would almost certainly come back to Urshek at some point. Fate was very unkind sometimes, he thought, as they walked back to the warmth of the wagon, to enjoy a little companionship before they had to go their separate ways.
~~~~~~~~ Things got easier after that. After a bit more wheedling and negotiating, Karik not only consented to let him go for a walk each day, he even arranged to borrow a couple of doigs to allow Romi to ride a little. The gentle exercise was already helping his fitness, he could tell, and while it tired him, he had plenty of time to recover. Karik still spent much of the day outside, because he preferred it and Romi didn’t blame him for that at all. But he usually spent at least an hour or two in the wagon, in addition to the little riding excursions, and Romi’s mood was improved just from that simple addition to his daily routine, and the days went a little faster. The journey was otherwise incredibly dull. A week after the broken wheel, they saw their first farm, and the wagon drivers sent people to buy supplies which made a welcome change in their diet. It was a sign their journey was close to ending, and though it meant sadness in one way for them, there was no doubt that getting home was the foremost desire for all of them. “I want a mug of beer, and a good plain stew,” Kepi declared. “I just want to be warm again,” Taz said. “Sick of snow.” “I want to see my family again,” Karik said. “They’ll have so much to tell me.” “You’ll have a lot to tell them, my lad,” Taz said. “Not many people our age have had this kind of adventure.” “No—but I think I’ll pass on it next time, if they offer it,” Karik said, grinning over his tea mug. “So, are you two going to move to Temshek, did you decide?”
“Probably not,” Kepi said. “Not that Romi’s not incredibly tempting,” he added with a sly wink. “But my parents still live in Oshek, and it’s closer to Taz’s parents—it’s not like Kera’s family have been horrible to me either. Her father was so upset on my behalf.” “I can’t imagine them approving,” Romi said. “You never mistreated her.” “No, and they even said to me they didn’t agree with her choice. She’s their daughter so they have to support her, but they’ve always made me welcome. Her Pa was the reason I got into the army in the first place—he and my Pa have been friends for years. If I move away, I’ll lose all that. Our family and friends are the things that keep us going. I can’t throw that away just to move to Romi’s barracks.” Romi found Karik giving him the most peculiar look, which he pretended to ignore. “No, quite right. Move if it suits you for other reasons, but giving up your life for one person is always risky. I wouldn’t advise it even if you were planning to marry me.” Kepi laughed. “Oh, captain, this is so sudden.” He batted his eyelids flirtatiously as Taz disgraced himself again. “Well, you’re single, I’m single—who knows, we could make a go of it.” Taz was practically choking with laughter now. “Well, Romi, fine fellow that you are and everything, I do like a nice handful to hang on to, and you really don’t have it where it counts.” “Breasts are strange things, don’t you think?” Kepi looked at Karik in surprise. “You don’t like breasts?” “I didn’t say that. I just think they’re strange. I mean, it must feel strange to have them. I don’t really know where to put my hands,” he muttered. Taz went off again. “Well, on them, would be my suggestion,” Kepi said, grinning hugely. “You know—like this.” He demonstrated, cupping his hands against his own flat chest. “But they’re squishy.” Romi couldn’t resist laughing at their naturalist’s squeamishness. “Karik, I’ve seen you pick up a half-rotten waterfowl and peer at it as if you were looking at the jewels of a kingdom. Are you saying women’s breasts are less attractive than that?” “No...I just...well, I know what to do with a dead water fowl and I don’t know what to do with breasts, that’s all.” “Maybe you’d do better with a cock and a pair of balls—you know how to handle those, don’t you?” Taz asked, his face still red from hilarity. “I don’t know—I’ve never tried,” Karik mumbled. “But at least I know what they feel like. Breasts would be so strange.” “I wouldn’t worry about it,” Romi said, clapping him on the shoulder. “Since you’re not likely to sprout any. As for where to put your hand, er...practice helps.” “Going to let him practice on you, captain?” Taz asked, still giggling.
“Don’t be insubordinate, soldier,” he said mock-severely. “You’re embarrassing him.” Karik was certainly turning that most astonishing colour again. “Sorry, Karik. Romi’s right though—everyone gets the hang of breasts.” “Maybe I just don’t want to get the hang of them,” Karik said stiffly, looking really annoyed. “Not everyone wants to have sex with women.” “No, quite true. Don’t get offended, lad. It’s just good fun.” “Ease up, Karik,” Romi said. “No one cares if you do or you don’t do with whoever. Just don’t knock it until you’ve tried it.” “I tried it. It was...squishy.” Taz just collapsed again. “Oh shut up, all of you.” Romi steered the conversation onto less contentious ground, but that had been an odd revelation for sure. Was Karik saying he just wasn’t interested in women, or just that his sole experience of sex had been unenjoyable? But it was nothing to do with him, Romi told himself firmly. Karik would have to do his sexual exploration with someone a little closer to home, and who didn’t mind being his practice run. Romi was done with that kind of thing forever. Damn it.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Staying Power: 38 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ When Karik saw the outskirts of Agen come into view in the distance, he whipped his doig into action and rode back to the end of the caravan where their wagon took up the rear, stuck his head through the flaps and gave the others the news. Moments later, all three of them were peering out across the landscape towards the few low towers of the town, just visible against the snow and steelgrey skies. “Finally,” Kepi said. “Wish we could just run over there.” “Maybe we can. Let me talk to the head driver,” Karik said. He’d become very friendly with the wagon team, and the head driver had been particularly grateful for the treatment of a painful boil, so he felt they might grant him a favour. He was back in a few minutes, with one of the drivers and another beast. “Romi? Weikeni says we can ride into town and speak to the barracks in advance if we want. The wagons will be at least another hour, and this would speed things up. If you feel up to it, that is. Or else Kepi and Taz could go in?” “No, it’s my job, and we may as well get the whole ‘yes he’s a Prij, not really’ dance out of the way, don’t you think?” Romi dressed in his warm gear and then climbed out to mount the doig. “We’ll see you at the barracks,” he told Kepi and Taz. “Make sure our gear is packed up.” They saluted, and then he, Karik and Weikeni set off. Even a week earlier, Karik would never have allowed this, but Romi was so much better, and a short ride of a mile or so was well within his abilities now. Besides, Romi was right, there was so much tiresome nonsense about him being a Prij to deal with. This time, though, it was much easier. With the bona fides that Jiren Palanze had provided for them, and Weikeni’s own explanation of the circumstances, the lep of the port barracks granted them accommodation without any hesitation. “You’re in luck, gentlemen. I happen to know a ship on the coast run departs tomorrow. I’ll send a soldier down to the docks and see if there’s space for four. Otherwise you’ll need to wait another two weeks. There’s not a lot of traffic at this time of year. Er, there is a ship in a week or so, going direct to Darshek....” “No, thank you,” Romi said firmly. “I must go via Tsikiugui—our friends and colleagues think we’re dead.” “Fair enough. Get yourselves sorted out here, and if you are leaving tomorrow, we’ll make sure you have provisions and so forth.” Agen was much bigger than Selnozi, though still smaller than Tsikiugui, and its barracks a larger and less informal establishment. There was no question of their being allowed to roam freely as they had at Selnozi—instead they were shown to guest quarters, and politely requested to remain there,
though they were offered every assistance, hot food and clean clothing to wear while their own was hastily laundered. Karik got the impression that the soldiers bearing away their reeking clothes thought it would be better to burn them, but they couldn’t afford to do that. With the hot vents that fuelled this barracks’ heating, the clothes would be dry soon. Just as well—when Kepi and Taz arrived, Romi could tell them that they would all be on a ship to Tsikiugui in the morning. Karik’s emotions were tangled, now their goal of getting home was suddenly almost in their reach. He could almost taste the joy his parents would feel when they knew he was alive and well, and they wouldn’t be the only ones. The idea of seeing Kei and Arman and Seiki and Jes again made him almost cry every time he thought of it. But there was Romi.... But as Kepi had said, family and friends were the things that made life endurable. Being with Romi—even if that were an option—meant giving them up, and his career, and all he’d worked for. He just wished his stupid emotions would catch up with his rational brain and realise this just had to be left alone. They all had individual bunks, for the first time in...gods, the ship to Andon was probably the last time, he realised. It felt very strange to not have Romi hard up against him, and probably contributed to the lousy night’s sleep he’d got, for all that the bunk was comfortable and the quarters warm and wellappointed. They were roused, bleary-eyed, at dawn, and given breakfast, then driven down to the docks to board the ship. It was only a small coastal vessel, nothing like the big ocean-going boat on which they had travelled to this land, and the accommodation was on the cramped side. The captain apologised—his was not one that normally took many passengers, though the army used it as it needed to. “But my boat is fast, and the route a safe one,” he promised. “We will be in Tsikiugui port within four days.” Romi thanked him and then they were left in the small, rather bare cabin. “Hammocks,” Kepi said mournfully. “I hate hammocks.” “Never mind,” Romi said cheerfully. “It’s only at night. We’ve put up with far worse.” “Yes, but I’m just tired of moving. I want to get home.” “Soon, soldier,” Romi said quietly. “At least in Tsikiugui, we’ll get news of the others.” “Yes, and we can finally do something about that slimy bastard,” Taz said. It was possible Taz hated Soza and Kizinke more than even Karik did. It was a smooth, if rather dull journey, and its sole virtue that it was relatively brief. Karik found the hammocks a little hard to get used to, but it was only for three nights. The rest of the time, they stayed in the cabin, since it was too cold to go on deck and there was very little reason to do so except to get the occasional breath of fresh, freezing air. There wasn’t much to do except sleep or talk, or for Romi and Karik to go over their reports. The lookout announced Tsikiugui coming into view mid-morning on the fourth day, and by then, stir-crazy and bored out of his mind, Karik couldn’t resist coming up to the rails to watch the ship eat
the remaining miles. The wind was bitterly cold, the sea leaden under dark, cloudy skies—just like the first time he’d come to Tsikiugui. “And in a few days, with any luck, we get to do this all over again.” He turned and scowled at the captain who was walking across the deck to join him. “You really shouldn’t be out in this cold.” Romi gave him an exasperated look. “I’m fine. Good grief, can’t you see how much better I am?” “Maybe so, but it’s an unnecessary strain. We’ll be in Tsikiugui in an hour or so. Why can’t you wait?” “Why can’t you?” Romi retorted. “Because I’ll go insane if I have to spend another moment in that cabin,” Karik admitted. “There you go. Kepi and Taz are just packing and having a wash—they’ll be up here soon.” “Do you think Wepizi will be there?” Romi scratched his chin, and then pulled his coat closer around him. “I hope so. He’s based here, but he does go out on patrols and so forth—they cover an enormous territory from Tsikiugui barracks. But if he’s not, we’ll get word of Jou and the others, I’m sure.” “And...Kizinke?” “Now him, you leave to me and Wepizi. Same as Soza. “ Romi came closer and leaned on the rail. “It’s a legal matter now.” “Romi, I can’t.... I can’t give evidence....” Romi patted his hand. “Don’t worry about it,” he said gently. “There are other ways. Concentrate —the job’s not done until we’re home. Remember that.” He put his hand on Karik’s wrist and gave it a squeeze. “You’ve come so far. I’m really proud of you.” Karik flushed. He would miss Romi’s honest praise. “I owe you so much,” he said. “You’ve been a true friend, and...I never said sorry for all the things I said to you. Thought about you.” Romi’s face crinkled up in a smile. “Well, now, we know what was behind that, so don’t worry about it. I had one or two uncharitable thoughts about you too from time to time, so we’re even on that.” “Only one or two?” “Oh, maybe three,” he said with a grin. “But I always thought you were good at your job. I never thought that about Soza.” Karik sighed. “If only he hadn’t come along....” “Yes. But it’s too late for that. I intend to make my feelings known to your uncle, trust me. You, ah, might want to be out of town when I do that.” “Arman can cope. He deals with Ma and she’s meaner to him than anyone.” Romi raised his eyebrows in surprise. “She doesn’t like him?”
“Oh, she does, she really does. But she gives him such stick—I think Pa feels sorry for him just for that.” “Your Ma sounds like a formidable lady,” Romi said. “She’s amazing. She’s so brave, and so clever and she’ll stand up for anyone who’s being hurt. I love her.” As he spoke, his hand drifted over the tero stone around his neck. He had been so glad it had survived all their trials, though the hair bracelet had long since been lost. “A gift?” Romi asked quietly, nodding at where his hand was resting. “From her?” “Both of them, when I was sixteen. Pa found the stone and Ma made the cord out of hair from the three of us. She’s renewed it a few times, always made the same way. So I’ll always know whose son I am, she said.” “A charming thought.” Romi continued to look at him curiously. “Something puzzles me—when I met you, you had a hair bracelet. I, uh, assumed it was Soza’s, but since it wasn’t, I wondered....” “Oh, that was Meran,” Karik said, smiling as he thought of his friend and cousin. “She’s always doing things like that—when I was at home last time, she gave it to me. It had her hair, and her brother’s, and Gyo’s in it. I told her people would think I was betrothed, but she said it would stop girls pestering me. She’s a bit odd sometimes.” “She sounds very nice. And did it? Stop girls?” “I don’t know. I don’t notice if they do. People don’t seem to look at me that way, thank goodness.” At least, they didn’t used to, he thought, suddenly thinking of Soza, and wondering how long the man had been planning to use him the way he had. Romi gave him an odd look, and then turned to face the sea. “Give it time,” he said after a few moments’ silence. “You’re still young. Lots of good things to come.” “What about you? Uh, you said you were single....” “The less said about the disaster of my love life, the better,” Romi said with a forced-looking smile. “A year away has been good though. I’m hoping for better luck when I return. I intend to go in for some serious wild bean sowing when I get back. I’ve a lovely welcome girl in Urshek-si who’ll warm my blankets for a start.” “Oh. Uh, that’s nice.” “They have welcome boys too, you know.” “Really.” Karik turned away, his cheeks burning. His wrist was squeezed again. “Sorry—just a joke.” “I know. I don’t want to think about it, that’s all.” His stomach clenched painfully. “I, uh...I think I want to go and make sure I put everything in my pack. Excuse me, please.” “Karik, I didn’t mean—” “Excuse me.” He turned quickly and bolted down the stairs. He didn’t go to the cabin, but instead, hid in a corner beside a store cupboard. Oh gods.... He hugged himself. It had been weeks since he’d
felt like this, and Romi’s joke wasn’t anything remarkable. He thought he’d been getting over it, but now it was as if no time had passed at all. He sank to the floor and put his head in his hands. It was so easy for Kepi and Taz and Romi to talk about their next romantic attachment, to talk casually of welcome girls, and women with soft breasts that would fit nicely in their hands. Karik found women’s bodies a mystery, and one he had no interest in exploring. Now, a body like Romi’s.... But that would mean other things, and he couldn’t...he felt sick even imagining being with someone like that.... Soza’s face kept looming in his memory, and the other memories...those fractured, confusing memories that always sat just on the edge of his awareness, taunting him and frightening him. What if sex brought them into full flowering, and he was doomed to have this perfectly normal activity—this perfectly wonderful activity, so everyone else seemed to think—tainted by Soza’s cruelty? He sat, hiding in the dark, hugging his cramping guts, until he heard the shouting that always went with a ship coming into dock. Time to stop maundering. He made himself get up, straighten up and go to their now abandoned cabin. His pack was gone, so he guessed Kepi or Taz had taken it up on deck. He practiced smiling, forced the nausea down, and then marched up to join the others. He dismissed Romi’s concerned apology and made light chatter about the prospect of seeing their friends again. He did not want to talk about sex any more.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Staying Power: 39 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ You pissing fool, Romi told himself, watching Karik’s smile not reach his eyes, and the signs of stress in his clenching hands and slight stutter. What a stupid, tasteless thing to say. He wished he could take Karik aside and talk to him, but Karik was determinedly pretending all was well, and besides, in a few moments, they would be dockside—there was no time to pursue this now. Already ropes were on the capstans and the ship was drawn up against the jetty. Finding no breach in Karik’s determined wall, he sighed to himself and decided to find the captain and thank him, since they would be leaving his ship shortly. The captain accepted his thanks, and then made it clear he was rather busy, so Romi withdrew. Five minutes later, the gangplank was down and they were free to leave. Karik snapped back into healer mode the moment his feet hit solid ground. “Romi, you can’t walk to the barracks in this.” Romi had to admit he had a point—walking over compacted ice was a different proposition to fresh snow. “Leave it to me, captain,” Taz said. “I’ll get us a lift.” “We both will,” Kepi said. “You two wait here.” Romi waved them off without too much conscience, knowing he really wasn’t up to the half-mile walk to the barracks, and certainly not up to arguing with Karik about it. He took a seat on a capstan— Karik stared at their boat, still behaving as if all was well. “You know, there’s probably a reason people think soldiers are insensitive clods,” Romi said, examining an incipient hole in his boot as he spoke. “I’m just a pathetic fool,” Karik said bitterly, abruptly dropping the pretence. “I think my heart is more damaged than yours.” “I think your heart is a lot tougher than you think, but I’m sorry for bringing it up. Try not to let it get to you. You’ve got plenty of time, and when you get home, plenty of people who love you and who will help you.” “Maybe,” he said briefly. “Look, they’ve found someone—that was quick.” Romi had to give the point up for now—but he had no intention of giving it up for good. He stood and greeted the cart driver, who was vastly curious about three Darshianese and a Prij suddenly needing assistance, but happy to offer it all the same, piling them into the back of his vehicle and setting his doigs clipping along the icy road at a seemingly perilous pace. It was a dark, overcast day, feeling more like dusk than an hour to noon, and as the cart drove along, it started to snow. Romi thought about how they had come so close to being caught out in the wilds in this, without shelter or proper clothing, and wondered if Sephiz really was looking out for them. It was certainly enough to inspire belief in an all-powerful deity.
They were set down at the barracks and waved off by the helpful driver, then Romi presented himself to the guard post and asked to see Wepizi, or whoever was in charge right now. Their arrival had people scurrying around in a sudden burst of excitement—their supposed deaths had apparently been major news. Within minutes, Romi saw Wepizi hurrying across the snow towards them, his face a mask of amazed delight. “Benevolent Sephiz!” Romi was seized in a crushing hug. “Oh, my friend, we prayed for your soul. Karik! Kepi, Taz!” Everyone was embraced in turn, then Wepizi stepped back, wiping his eyes. “Are you real? You’re all so thin, but you feel solid enough—only, Kizinke said he saw your bodies....” “It’s a long story, and pissing cold to be standing around to tell it, Wepizi. Can we...?” “Of course, of course.” He whistled for assistance, and gave orders for food and tea to be brought to the guest quarters. “Come with me, I’ll show you where you will be staying.” Wepizi was reluctant to leave their side for even a moment, still rather dazed by their miraculous reappearance, but his perfect manners forbade him from questioning them until they had at least got mugs of drizu in front of them. He perched on a bunk and then said with a determined look, “Now, from the beginning, or I’ll die of curiosity.” Romi smiled. “First, tell me about Sibu and Reisa.” “They’re well—as well as we could make them at least. We got back to Visiqe without incident and stayed a week there while she was treated. Reisa was completely healed by then and Sibu close to being so. Our physicians said they could do nothing more for her and recommended she went back to Darshek. I put them on a ship over two months ago, and I had word from Corporal Jou that she was being cared for very well and that Master Kei was seeing to her scars as best they could. Unfortunately, I had to reply with the news we had from Kizinke. What happened, my friends? How can you be dead and then not dead?” “We weren’t dead, that’s how.” Romi explained carefully, omitting nothing, while Karik, Kepi and Taz listened in silence, sipping their tea. Wepizi listened quietly too, though he let fly a startled oath from time to time as yet another shocking detail was revealed. “Romi, you haven’t told him you’re sick yet,” Karik said, as he paused. “Sick? How? Do you need our healer?” Romi sighed. “Eventually. I got bitten by a marsh bug—a tertri.” Wepizi’s eyes grew perfectly round. “A tertri? You really should be dead, my friend.” He honestly wished people would stop saying that. “Thanks to Karik, I’m not. Thanks to all of my team, I’m not. Once I got bitten, I became deadweight. These three saved my life.” “You were not deadweight,” Kepi snapped. “Peace, Kepi, let’s not fight about this again,” he said, then turned back to Wepizi. “It’s affected my heart, so I’m not good for much right now. I’m better than I was, but it was a close thing. We were found by the tribal people just in time.”
Wepizi shook his head. “By Sephiz’s name, you have been through a trial. First things first—you need to rest, get clean, relax. Then I’ll make arrangements for you to sail back to Darshian as soon as you’re ready.” “What happened to Kizinke and Soza? Where’s our collection?” Karik asked. “Ah. It seemed the two quarrelled, and after Kizinke presented his report, he went back north. Soza sailed direct to Urshek—he said he didn’t want the extra trouble of going via Darshek, I confess I had little interest in the matter, I grieved so much for your loss.” He shook his head again. “But of course, now I realise he didn’t want to face your uncles, Karik.” “Kei’s a soul-toucher,” Karik said, glancing at Romi. “He’d have known if he was lying.” Romi nodded. “Exactly—and it looks like he got the Mount Arzha material all for himself after all. I wonder what Lord Arman and Master Kei thought about that.” “I suspect they, like me, would have been thinking more about your loss than about some plants,” Wepizi said. “I’m such a fool—I thought their story smelled wrong, but what could I do? We could not have got to you in time to rescue you, and I could not risk people to retrieve corpses. I’m sorry, Romi —I could have....” “You couldn’t have,” Romi said firmly. “I’d have been furious if you’d tried. But what will you do about Kizinke? Soza, I’ll have to deal with when I get back south.” “Hmm, I’ll need to talk to my tezrei—an accusation like that can’t be lightly made, and it’s barely possible that it was an accident.” “But he said he saw our bodies!” Taz said angrily. “Not to mention he never bothered to look for us.” Wepizi made a ‘simmer down’ motion with his hand. “This is all true, my friend, and indicates that it was not, in fact, bad luck. I will need to take your statements formally, but that can be tomorrow. You look tired and you all stink,” he added with a fastidious wrinkle of his long nose. Romi wondered what he’d have thought if he’s seen them straight off the wagons from Selnozi, if he thought they were bad now. “Don’t tell me after the journey you’ve had, that a few days to rest and recover in comfort would not be welcome.” “We won’t because it wouldn’t be true,” Romi said, as the others grinned and nodded. “My personal physician forbids me the steam room, unfortunately.” “Truly? Karik, that’s cruel,” Wepizi said, his eyes twinkling. “Never mind, we have hot water and soap, and those ridiculous braids can be groomed properly. Not to be rude, but you’re not exactly presentable right now.” “We’re lucky to be present, never mind presentable, Wepizi. But a wash for me and the steam room for the others would be wonderful.” “As you wish. Romi, I’ll let the infirmary know you’ll be along to see them—Karik, you should go with them. And then, Romi, if you come to my office, I will take proper notes. The rest of you, if you need the smallest thing, please ask.”
“A pair of scissors would be nice,” Karik asked. Romi look at him in puzzlement—was he planning to cut his hair? “To trim this,” he clarified, stroking his now rather unruly beard. It wasn’t much longer than it had been, but had become rather bushy since Karik’s scissors had been sacrificed to their survival needs in the wilds. “I’ll arrange them to be brought to the steam room,” Wepizi declared. “Kepi? Taz? Is there anything you desire?” “A beer,” Kepi said decisively. Romi felt his pain—a beer would be perfect right now. “Ah. I’m sorry, my friend—even if it were allowed, there is none to be had in the town. But once you have rested, I’m sure the local inns can provide a decent fruit wine.” “Not the same,” Kepi muttered. “I’ll survive. I’m just glad to be off the boat, and done with that wagon, and finished with walking. I never want to travel ever again.” “I think once you’re recovered, you may feel differently. So, go and get clean. I’ll have fresh clothes and the other items brought to the steam room, and I’ll see you again shortly.” He got up, then embraced Romi again. “Oh benevolent god, there can be no greater joy than to regain those thought lost forever.” “And it’s good to see you too, Wepizi. Thank you for keeping the others safe for me.” “Merely my job, my friend. Now, off you go.” As they left the guest quarters, a soldier presented himself. “This way, please.” Though their borrowed clothes had been clean on four days before, constant use and shipboard life had made them grimy—Romi was glad to shed them, and to thoroughly wash his hair and skin. The steamy warmth felt wonderful, and he looked longingly at the door of the steam room, through which Kepi and Taz had just gleefully gone. “Karik? Please? There’s no razika in there now.” “Oh, stop whining,” Karik said, sounding genuinely impatient. “You can sit in the plunge pool room—that’s warm enough for you.” The attending soldier had, a few moments before, brought the scissors he’d requested, and Karik was now combing through the golden curls on his face, and trimming them back into order. “Why don’t you just shave it off, now we’re back in civilisation?” Karik turned and gave him an odd look. “Because I don’t have any reason to. If you want to wait in the other room, I’ll be there in a minute or two.” Now what had he said? Romi suppressed a sigh, wrapped the drying cloth around his now much skinnier hips and went to find a place to sit and comb out his hair, which had not really been properly washed or groomed in over two months. He was wincing over tangles when Karik came in, looking much tidier, his beard now the neat object it had been when Romi had first met him. Like Romi, he combed his hair, the drying strands the most fascinating mixture of shades, from dull red gold to palest blond. Romi wondered for a moment what it would feel like if he were to rub it between his fingers, then stamped firmly on the thought. That kind of thing would get him into trouble.
Karik’s hair never seemed to tangle at all—it was unfair. Even Jou had complained about it from time to time after the team had been bathing together. He already had it combed out and rebraided while Romi was still struggling with his fifth knot. Karik watched him for a few moments, then said, “Need a hand?” “Would you mind? I’d cut it all off for a rina.” “No need for that. Come here—Ma has the same problem.” Romi turned his back on Karik and tried not to imagine what this very situation might lead to, if it were Daiso grooming him and not Karik. Not very successfully, apparently. “What’s wrong?” Karik asked, tugging gently on a recalcitrant tangle. “I, uh...I’m not single by choice, actually. My lover...left me for his pregnant girlfriend.” Karik’s hands went still for a moment. “I’m sorry,” he said in a low voice, then his careful combing continued. “So was I. I miss him. He’s a father now—think of that. He, uh, was the last person to do this for me.” “Oh. I sometimes wonder why people put themselves through so much pain, falling in love.” “It’s how we make sure the human race continues, I suppose. Except if it’s someone like me, who can’t have children anyway. Falling in love just seems rather pointless.” More silence. Romi regretted bringing it up, except Karik had bared his own heart often enough, and Romi felt he was owed some honesty. “If you met a woman you loved, perhaps a friend like me....” “Friends like you are rare, Karik. And what if I fell in love with another man? It would take a very special woman who would let us raise a child of her body.” “Some women don’t seem to have any difficulty giving up their children,” Karik said, bitterness creeping into his voice. Romi turned and looked at him. Karik’s eyes were downcast, offering no clue to his feelings. “One day, maybe you can tell me about that?” “Perhaps. Turn around.” Romi obeyed. “I don’t think it’s an option. Dai never stopped to consider it anyway. Will you...uh, if your friends want another child, will you help them?” “Of course.” “Even though you don’t like sex with women?” A pause. “I don’t really think about it. It’s just something they need and I do it—it’s for them, not me.” “I can’t even imagine what it’s like to be in that situation,” Romi said. “It must be very strange.” “Mila, er, had to show me what to do, first time. It was very strange, you’re right. But there was so much love, and they were so grateful—and Jes is the most beautiful child. I hope you’ll meet her.”
“If you’ll allow it, I would be most honoured. I owe you an apology, you know. I thought you’d abandoned her mother for Soza. After Dai...I was feeling a bit oversensitive about such things. That was why I was so cold towards you.” “Ah...yes, I see. And you obviously thought that this was just the kind of thing I would do.” Romi turned around to face a baleful Karik. “I didn’t know you at all then, Karik. I’ve said I’m sorry. You were pretty quick to believe some rather nasty things about me too, you know.” His companion was still giving him the evil eye. “Yes, but they were things Soza told me, not things I made up out of no evidence at all. Do I look like some kind of faithless bastard?” Romi seized his arm. “No, you don’t. You never did—it was all because of Soza. In fact, I couldn’t make sense of what he was saying and what I observed of you, so at first I thought you were just very cunning about hiding things. I was wrong. I’m sorry.” Karik continued to glare, but as Romi kept using his eyes to plead for forgiveness, he finally sighed. “It’s silly to hold grudges over this, I know. It was more that it was slandering Mila and Seiki and Jes that I minded, you know.” “I know. I apologise from the bottom of my heart. Forgive me?” Karik smiled suddenly. “Forgiven. And now, you’re also groomed to perfection,” he added, flipping the tail of Romi’s braid at him. Romi made a little bow. “Thank you. Maybe I can return the favour one day.” “Maybe,” Karik said distractedly. “Where are our fresh clothes, do you suppose?” All they had to do was poke their heads into the changing room for the answer—and their clothes, which turned out to be Andonese uniforms without insignias. Those on offer for Karik were a bit large, but even Romi had to pull in his belt quite tightly—he was, he reckoned, easily thirty pounds lighter than when he had first come to Andon, and he had lost as much muscle as fat. It would take time for all of them to build up condition again. Kepi and Taz were still luxuriating in the steam room, damn them, so Romi left them to cook and went to their next port of call, which was the infirmary. There Romi was thoroughly examined, but the healer there had no more answers than any of the others Karik had asked about the marsh bug poison. She diffidently suggested that Romi might make a full recovery in time since he had improved so much over the last few weeks, but with no other cases to use for comparison, it was only a guess. “But I would very much like to make notes on the method you used,” she said. “Tertri bites are always fatal and though they are rare, if we could find a treatment, it would be a boon.” “Karik, you stay and talk. I have to speak to Wepizi anyway. I’ll find you in the quarters later.” Karik agreed and Romi went back out into the freezing air to seek his friend’s office, fetching his report notes before he did so. He found Wepizi already putting arrangements in hand for their return to Darshian, but he had yet to get full details of sailings. “Now, my friend, this matter of Kizinke,” he said, pouring mugs of drizu for them both.
“Wait, Wepizi—there’s something else that I couldn’t mention before. We think we know who attacked Karik.” Wepizi paused, the pot hovering over the mug. “You do? Did he remember?” “Not exactly—but do you recall what you said about Soza? That you couldn’t see why he would drug Karik for sex if they were already sleeping together? It turns out they weren’t—and never have been.” Wepizi’s eyes widened as Romi described the lies Soza had told, and the deductions they had made. “By Sephiz’s name, that fits! While we were in the field, the academy had its annual inspection —and it was found to be short in several of the restricted drugs, including gerot. Its administrators were severely reprimanded—I believe one lost his job, in fact. The problem was in pinning down when it happened because the inspections only occur once a year and the collection is not guarded in any way. Numerous people had access to it over that time.” “It had to have been Soza—Karik said he wasn’t supervised at all, and he even specifically asked about gerot.” Wepizi nodded. “It certainly looks that it must be him. But you realised a prosecution here would never get off the ground—not with such circumstantial evidence.” “Quite right—but in Darshian, we have other methods of divining the truth. The main sticking point is whether Karik would allow a prosecution to go forward. It’s a very painful topic and though he’s recovered well, I think this might be more than he could bear. At least now.” “But such a foul creature can’t be allowed to go unpunished. It’s an offence to the benevolent god.” Romi grunted in agreement. “Never mind your deity, it’s an offence to me. I want him locked up. But it will need careful consideration, and I need to consult with Karik’s uncles first. You take care of friend Kizinke, and I’ll see to Soza.” “As you wish. I can provide you with the reports about the academy theft, and you can give me the full details of the events surrounding the landslide. If I have my way, the council will at the very least, never offer our humble guide work again. There are many ways to bring a bird down—a blow to the head is not always necessary.” Romi grinned—he could leave this with Wepizi. “Just make sure I find out his fate so I can tell the others. They want blood.” “They shall have it—metaphorically, of course. I don’t approve of violence, as you know,” he added, his eyes wrinkling with humour. “Ah...and you and our beautiful man are friends, finally?” “Yes, we are. It took a lot of time and a lot of misunderstandings, but I count him as good a friend as you. The four of us are very close now.” “But...perhaps you and he are somewhat...closer?” Romi shook his head. “No. I can’t let that happen. He’s my subordinate after all.”
“But only until you get to Darshek. After that?” “After that, I go south, and he stays north. I don’t need more heartbreak.” Wepizi’s teasing expression grew serious. “No, of course not. I was forgetting the realities. There’s no chance he might move south? He was studying in Urshek, as I recall.” “Yes—with Soza. I can’t see that being much incentive for him to go back, can you?” “No, true. Ah, that’s unfortunate. He’s a very fine young man. I would like to see him settled with someone worthy of him. At least I hope he will marry and be a father once more.” “Not much chance of that,” Romi said dryly. “He doesn’t care for female charms in that way.” “Truly? Then there must be a way I can bring you two together.” Romi raised his hand. “No, my friend. All joking aside—please don’t. It can only end in pain, and neither of us need more of that.” Wepizi bowed his head. “Then I shall not, though it grieves me to see two such good men parted by fortune in this way. I will pray most earnestly to Sephiz for a solution that brings you both happiness, however that may be achieved.” “You do that—it can’t hurt. Now, about Kizinke...?”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Staying Power: 40 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ By the time Karik had returned from the infirmary, rather depressed about the lack of information he had been able to garner about marsh bug toxin, there was a kettle of stew heating on the stove in the guest quarters, and fresh flat bread warming in front of it. Kepi and Taz were only waiting for Karik and Romi to arrive before starting, but Karik told them to go ahead—Romi would probably be some time. The food was hearty, as he had come to expect from army food, and made a change from the rations they had been eating on the ship. But though his companions were clearly relishing not only the meal, but also being back in a friendly barracks once more, Karik continued to be depressed, unhappy at his reactions to Romi’s comments, unhappy at their impending separation, and reminded too, that it was reckoning time for Soza. He had spent over three months barely thinking about the man at all, or the attack, and now he was confronted with it all again. He’d hoped he had recovered more than he had, only to find that his mind was just as confused and damaged as before. “Cheer up, young Karik, it might never happen!” Karik made himself smile at Kepi. “Don’t mind me, I’m just in a mood.” “Should have come into the steam room—I feel human again,” Taz declared. “Someone has to make sure Romi washes behind his ears.” “He’ll have to find someone else to wash his privates in a week or so,” Kepi said with a sly wink. “Unless he’s planning to recruit you.” Karik ignored the teasing. “No, I decided against it. Ma would kill me.” Kepi grinned and made a motion of dismissal with his hand. “Mothers always say that—they get used to it.” “Maybe.” That was as much banter as Karik was able to muster, and after a moment or two, seeing there was no more fun to be had, Kepi just grunted and went back to his food, leaving Karik to his dismal thoughts. Shortly after, the door opened with a blast of freezing air, and Romi rushed in, shivering. He made straight for the stove to warm himself. “Food—great, I’m so damn hungry.” Karik handed him a bowl so he could serve himself. “Good news, everyone. Wepizi has the information about the boat sailings— a ship is leaving for Urshek in two days.” “So soon?” Karik said, unable to hide his dismay. “What about Darshek?” “That’s not for four days. Of course I’ll have to go with you to Darshek, Karik,” he said with a smile—Karik cursed his obviousness, but couldn’t quell the relief he felt. “I’ve got to give my reports, and so on.”
“And be treated.” “That too,” Romi acknowledged with a nod. “So the only question is whether you two want to head straight to Urshek, or break your journey in Darshek. It’s up to you—the sailing to Urshek direct cuts three days off the total trip, and that’s before you take into account the time in Darshek. Kepi, you’re the worst sailor. Which do you prefer?” Kepi rubbed his chin. “Well...I think maybe I’d like to get home faster, see my parents. They must be out of their mind with grief. At least sailing direct, if I get my sea legs, I don’t have to get them again. Taz?” “Whatever you want, Kepi. Ma and Pa will be upset, but a few days here or there won’t make a lot of difference. We can send word from Darshek, after all.” “I can do that anyway,” Romi said. “If you want the earlier berth, then you need to make your mind up now, and go see Wepizi to arrange it. Otherwise, he’s assuming that we’ll all go to Darshek.” “No, I think I want to get home,” Kepi said firmly. “I’m done here. Taz? Want to go arrange it?” “Sure.” Karik told them he’d clean up, so they went to find Wepizi’s office. Romi was too busy eating to talk, so Karik just sat watching him, his emotions in turmoil. Another couple of weeks with Romi at least—but it was only delaying the inevitable. Finally, the edge came off Romi’s appetite enough for him to slow down, and he used his bread to sop up the stew juices. “I, uh, told Wepizi about what we’d decided about the attack.” Karik just nodded—this was to be expected. “Apparently someone stole gerot from the academy supplies. One guess as to who, and Wepizi agrees with our conclusions about Soza. However, he also agrees it will have to be dealt with in Darshian now—he’ll ensure people are told about Kizinke, though a prosecution is unlikely. I’d like to talk to Lord Arman about Soza when we go home, but I’ll need your permission to do that.” Karik froze. “Ah-Arman? I d-don’t want him to kn-know.” Romi touched Karik’s wrist. “I understand—but if we want to stop Soza doing this again to someone else, this is the only way. For all we know, he’s attacked other people who’ve been too scared or embarrassed to come forward. He might even count on it.” Karik swallowed. “Romi....everyone wuh-will know.” “No. Arman will know, and Kei, I imagine, because he would have to tell him. After that, it might not be necessary to give precise details to anyone else. The criminal here is Soza, not you. You’ve done nothing at all to be ashamed of.” He searched Karik’s face. “I know how brave you are. I know your courage is up to this.” “And if it’s not? Will you d-despise me?” “Of course not. This is a deeply personal decision. You have to live with it, not me. I know that if you decide you can’t, it won’t be because of cowardice. The only coward here is Soza.”
Romi continued to look earnestly into Karik’s eyes until he nodded. “I need to th-think.” “Yes, you do. I’ll help in whatever way I can—so will Wepizi.” He leaned back, and contemplated his mug. “Home in under three weeks.” “Not for you,” Karik said quietly. “Well, close enough to home. My parents will get a message as soon as we can pass one from Darshek, and I don’t have any other home as such.” Karik looked at him in surprise. “I thought you thought of Temshek barracks as home.” “I did...before. When I left, I did. Now I have to wonder why I’m in such a hurry to go back.” He looked so melancholy, Karik had to clench his fist on his thigh under the table to prevent himself reaching over to touch Romi’s frown. “You’re lucky. You have strong ties in Darshek—you have two true homes.” “I...yes.” He looked down. But I would give both up for you—if you asked. Perhaps he was grateful that Romi never would, because it would surely hurt beyond bearing to leave Kei and Jes and Arman again, perhaps forever. Romi suddenly clapped him on the shoulder. “Enough of this. Wepizi’s very interested in what we achieved at Mount Arzha, and that bastard Kizinke actually delivered my reports, apparently with many pious utterances about our ‘terrible loss’. How about you and I look over them, and make notes for him? Or you might like to look at their library—there wasn’t much time last time we were here.” “No, reports.” There would be time for books later. Time for Romi now.
~~~~~~~~ The two days to Kepi and Taz’s departure went swiftly, and before Karik had really time to think too much about it, it was time for the farewells he had dreaded for so long. None of them were dryeyed as Kepi hugged him and then Romi, Taz doing the same. “Gods, I feel closer to you than my own family,” Kepi said, wiping his cheeks and blowing his nose. “Romi, pissing well write this time, will you? And Karik? I need to know how things are with you.” “You have my word on it,” Karik said. “But you must do the same—you too, Taz. And when you see the others, give them a hug—tell them I miss them and worry about them all the time.” “Will do—I know they’ll be glad of news of you, once they get over the shock of finding out we’re all still alive. Hey, Romi—do dead soldiers get paid?” “Not a rina,” Romi said with a grin. “But you can look at your own grave marker, if that’s any comfort to you.” “I’ll never hear the end of this,” Taz said, shaking his head. There was a knock at the door and a muffled, “Time to go, gentlemen.” The lift to the docks was there.
Taz straightened and threw the smartest salute Karik had ever seen him give. “An honour to serve with you, captain. I’ll never forget any of it.” Romi returned the salute. “You’ll both be personally commended in the report, Taz. I’ve been lucky and honoured to have you with me, and I’ll be grateful for all you’ve done until the day I die.” “You just make sure that’s a good number of years off, you hear?” Kepi growled, then hastily wiped at his cheeks again. “Damn it.” He saluted. “An honour and a blessing to serve with you, captain.” Romi saluted and then embraced his friend again. “Safe journey, you two. Now, you better go.” Another quick hug, then packs were shouldered and they went out in the freezing pre-dawn to catch their ride. Karik stood, a little at a loss for a moment. Romi cleared his throat and wiped his eyes. “Uh...well. Tea?” It felt so strange. They had been four, now two, and people who had been at his side constantly for months—nearly a year, in fact—were gone utterly from his life. Would they really write? Or would they slip away, caught up in their everyday lives and work, and forget all about their annoying civilian companion? Wepizi, ever kind, and obviously still in shock over their reappearance, took them in hand immediately. Karik would have let him spend time alone with Romi, who was very subdued after his friends’ departure, but both insisted he was both welcome and wanted. For his own part, Karik was in no hurry to avoid the company of this gentle, pious man—he would miss Wepizi very much. There was much to do before they left. Other than Wepizi taking a most thorough statement from Karik concerning the events leading up to the landslide, and his observations of Kizinke’s behaviour that morning, the two malefactors were not mentioned again. Instead, he wished to dissect the mission, both before and after the group had split—its successes and failures, and their recommendations for any future expeditions. That more were needed was unquestioned. Karik just found it hard to whip up any enthusiasm to participate in another any time soon. Romi, when pressed, would only say that with the right team, he’d be willing to venture out again at some point, but he wasn’t exactly champing at the bit. The guest quarters were very quiet at night without Kepi and Taz’s cheerful conversation. It was companionable though—just the two of them, sipping tea and thinking their own thoughts, talking quietly and easily as the friends they had come to be. Karik wished there was some reason he and Romi could share a bunk again, but the time for that had passed. Romi was improving every day—small steps, for sure, but he was no longer prone to doze off, and ordinary exertion had long since ceased to make him winded—and there was no need for Karik to make sure he slept well. Karik’s own rest was still troubled by nightmares, but that was a problem that would improve over time. Just how much time was the crucial question, but no one had an answer for that. Finally, it was time for their own departure. Wepizi personally accompanied them down to the docks mid-afternoon on a bright, still day that managed to be colder than even the snowiest they’d had
this autumn. “You’re in luck, my friends—there’s little demand for passenger space at this time of year, and I’ve authorised a proper cabin for your transport. After all, we have an invalid to get safely back,” he added with a mischievous twinkle. “Invalid, my bottom,” Romi said dryly. “You watch, Lep Wepizi—in six months’ time, I’ll be able to kick your arse again.” “I most sincerely pray it will be so, my friend.” He embraced Romi and the two men had a brief whispered conversation before moving apart. “And our brave young friend.” Karik was hugged tightly. “Look after Romi, for he’s precious to me.” “I’ll see he gets the best medical advice in Darshian,” Karik declared. “That too,” Wepizi said cryptically. He let Karik go and shook his head ruefully. “Ah, well. May Sephiz keep you safe.” Romi clasped his shoulder. “I’ll write as soon as I’m settled with news of everyone.” “You too, Karik. I shall expect to be inundated with messages.” “I promise, Wepizi. Thank you for everything.” And then they had to board, Wepizi giving them one last bow and watching them board, before ordering his driver to turn the cart around and take him back to the barracks. Karik approved— watching people leave was a miserable and pointless business. This ship was rather different from those on which Karik had travelled before, as it was designed to take rather more passengers than most—so while there were, their attendant told them as he took them to their cabin, several vacant berths, there were still thirty or so people who had paid for passage to Darshek. They passed several in the corridors, in fact—and at least two were Prijian. Karik was rather disoriented by that—for nearly a year he had felt like he was the only Prij in Andon, the only one anyone had ever seen, but here was a reminder that the Prij, like the Darshianese, did travel to Andon, and some even lived there permanently. Once again, he was just a normal member of society, and not a freak to be treated with scorn or suspicion. It felt good. The cabin was small, but perfectly comfortable—designed to carry two people with plenty of space, or a family of four sharing two wide bunks. It was positively luxurious after their recent travails, and Romi thought so too. “How decadent,” he murmured, sitting on the lower bunk. “My colonel would be shocked.” “Let him do a six hundred mile trek and then he can complain,” Karik said. He unpacked his diary and notes and put them on the little desk. “There won’t be much to do for two weeks.” “No—I’ll have to think hard of ways to amuse you. Don’t want you getting into mischief.” Karik shook his head at his friend’s impertinence. “Perhaps I’ll write up an account of the most annoying officer in the Darshianese army, and sell it for a rina on the street corner.” “We could make it a double pamphlet with my tale of the little Prij who wandered far and came home to his mother.”
Karik wagged his finger at Romi. “Listen here, you bastard—I’m not that small, and I’m only a little younger than you.” “I don’t think I ever knew how old you were, actually.” “Twenty-two. And you’re twenty-six because you had your birthday two months ago.” Romi raised his eyebrows. “Twenty-two? I thought you were my age. Now that explains a lot,” he said in a perfectly annoying way. “No wonder you’re such a brat.” “So how do you explain your own inadequacies, captain?” Karik grinned. “This sounds like where we came in, don’t you think?” “Not really,” Romi said quietly. “I know you better now, and understand your motives. I regret the wasted time though, when we could have been friends.” “So do I,” Karik said, throat closing with sorrow. “Romi...I....” “Yes?” “I.... I better go investigate the galley. You don’t need to come.” “Karik?” “It’s all right. I’ll be back soon.” He left the cabin before Romi could question him, glad he had managed to avoid making an idiot of himself. Don’t be a fool, he told himself sternly.
~~~~~~~~ He managed to get his stupid impulse to uncomfortable honesty under control by the time he’d returned to the cabin. Romi didn’t mention his odd behaviour, and they settled into their lodging as the ship cast off its moorings with the tide, and began its long journey south. “I’ve a project for you,” Romi said, as night fell and he set fire sprites around the room to illuminate it. “Teach me more about the plants and how you study them?” Karik was surprised at the request. “You picked up a lot on the expedition, surely.” “Here and there. But I want to understand it. You’ve got something better to do?” “Not at all. I don’t really have the books though,” he said distractedly, looking about him as if the little cabin might surrender a reference library if he searched hard enough. Romi tapped his temple. “You can describe things, or draw them—unless it would be tiresome for you.” “Not at all. I’d enjoy it very much.” The only stipulation he made was that they had to either speak Andonese or Prijian—Romi’s Andonese was better than his own, and his Prijian was rusty. Kei would expect him to retain his fluency, and so he would do so. Romi agreed readily, and so they began.
It had been a good plan, Karik thought, after two days had passed far more enjoyably than he’d expected. He already knew how bright Romi was, so teaching him was easy—but he hadn’t realised how much Romi could teach him about his own subject. His childhood on a farm, and his love of hunting, not to mention his keen woodcraft, meant that he understood the patterns of living things, and the way they were woven together in their interactions. It was something that all too many people, even those of Romi’s own background, simply refused to understand. After Karik had spent a good ten minutes venting his frustration about the impenetrable ignorance of so many people he’d met, Romi leaned back in his chair and grinned. “You want to teach the whole world, sounds like. I have to tell you this is probably not possible.” Karik shook his head ruefully at his own monomania. “I get it from both my parents—and Kei. Pa honestly believes that everyone can be taught. Kei thinks that if you find the right way to teach a lesson, there’s no one who can’t understand any fact. Ma’s a bit more realistic, but she won’t give up until the other person does, and even then she still tries.” “I suppose I’m a little like that. I know I’ve annoyed my soldiers many a time trying to get them to improve themselves. But you know, if you keep at it, they do, sometimes. Look at Kepi and Taz— neither of them are what you might call scholars, but look at how you managed to din your botany into their heads. You got them both interested in your work just by persistence and good teaching.” “You did a lot of it for me,” Karik said. “We made a good team.” “We surely did,” Romi said wistfully, sighing a little as he pulled Karik’s notes towards him. “Romi—if...if Kei can’t help you, and....” “And I have to leave the army? I thought I wasn’t allowed to admit the possibility,” he said with a wry smile. “I’m sorry—it was just that...you’re so clever. I wonder if you ever considered taking up studies to do something else.” “Not even once,” Romi said, looking at the notes intently, his eyes shadowed. “To be honest, Karik, I’m terrified. Being a soldier is what I’ve wanted to do since I was fifteen, all I saw myself doing. I want to make full captain, and I want to lead people. I’m good at it. Well, I think I’m good at it,” he added a little self-deprecatingly. “You are,” Karik said firmly. “Damn it, Romi—if you could convince me of that even before I could stand looking at you, you must be a good leader.” “You’re forgetting about Soza. And even people who like me were happy to reject my authority just at the point when leadership was crucial.” “Those were not usual circumstances,” Karik said, his hand curling a little in remembered stress over those dark days. “You still led us. We still acknowledged your right to do so.” “Maybe,” Romi said, not sounding entirely convinced. “But if I leave the army, what leadership skills I have will count for nothing.” “What do soldiers do when they leave the army? I mean, in the south.”
Romi shrugged. “Some go back to their villages and take up their parents’ profession, or new ones if they learned a trade in the army. Some settle in the towns and start businesses. A lot of officers go to work with the Rulers—can’t say that appeals,” he said, wrinkling his nose. “I don’t like the amount of paper work I have in this job.” “What about...?” Karik stopped, and bit his lip. “What about...?” “You could work at the academy,” he said in a rush. Romi frowned in confusion. “Doing what?” “Uh—teaching. You could, uh, teach people to...to survive. Yes, you could train people going into the field.” It was such a brilliant idea, Karik wondered why it hadn’t occurred to him before. But Romi was still frowning. “Karik, my skills are nothing exceptional, and the Urshek academy doesn’t really—” “No, the Darshek academy, I meant.” “I live in south Darshian, Karik.” “Yes, I know, but...you could move, couldn’t you?” he said hopefully. “I mean, if you came north, and we got you a place, you could live in Darshek and I’m sure there are all kinds of jobs you could do.” “No, Karik. I’m sorry, but no,” Romi said gently. “It’s very kind of you to worry about me, but that’s just fantasy. The most likely thing for me is that I’ll go back to my parents’ farm. Ma’s a weaver. I can learn her trade soon enough—I know the basics.” “But you can’t,” Karik pleaded. “You’re got so much talent and you’re too intelligent—” He realised his mistake as Romi’s expression cooled. “To be a weaver? Don’t think much of the manual trades then, do you. I’m sure Ma would love to know she’s held in such low regard by the academy staff.” Karik covered his mouth in embarrassment. “I’m sorry. That’s not what I meant—I just meant...you’re so special,” he whispered. “I want something special for you.” “That’s kind,” Romi said, smiling and reaching for his hand. “But...I think...perhaps you’re getting a little too personally bound up in my fate. There’s no future for me in your world, however much you want to help. I’m sorry.” “I wish...I just wish....” He stopped. There were no words for the heaviness in his heart, the need he had to.... He hesitantly raised his free hand to Romi’s face, and though his friend was puzzled, he didn’t stop Karik’s movement. “I just...wish....” Romi laid his cheek against Karik’s fingers, his eyes half-closed. His hand around Karik’s tightened, and then he pulled gently, tugging Karik forward. Karik went eagerly to him, leaning across the small gap between them. Romi opened his eyes, his dark, intelligent eyes, and looked into Karik’s soul. “Karik.” His lips parted, and Karik held his breath. Was he going to...?
But then, abruptly, Karik was released, and Romi moved back, jerking his face away from Karik’s hand. “No...I can’t. I’m sorry.” His face burning, Karik stumbled to his feet, not caring that the chair went over with a shockingly loud crash. “Please excuse me,” he choked out, and then fled, eyes blinded with embarrassed tears, his heart tight with the pain of loss. What a pissing, blind, stupid fool he was.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Staying Power: 41 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ The cabin door slammed shut with a rattle, and Romi put his head in his hands. Of all the clumsy, blind, moronic, insensitive bastards, he was surely the most clumsy, blind, moronic and insensitive of all. How had he not realised the extent of Karik’s feelings...and how had he let it all get to this point? Karik’s diary. He got up and fetched it from the writing desk, and turned to the date from which he had been forced to read in Deptonu’s settlement. He had thought it was an expression of friendship— true friendship—but now he realised it had been so much more. A cry from the heart, a heart so recently scarred—young, inexperienced but still full of the capacity to love. And Romi had just squashed it like a marsh bug. He snapped the book shut. He had to fix this mess somehow. And he had to do it now. It was pissing freezing up on deck, and Karik hadn’t taken his coat. Romi found his quarry hunched by the stairwell, and he might have thought the shivering was just because of the cold, if it weren’t for the tears on Karik’s face, glinting in the light of one of his fire sprites. He handed Karik his coat, and it was snatched from his hands. “Go away.” “No. Put that on, you’ll freeze to death.” “Who cares?” Romi sighed, forcibly took the coat from Karik’s fingers and dropped it around his shoulders, pulling it tightly around him. “No need to be childish. Come down below and we can talk about this.” “No. Leave me alone.” Karik turned so he was facing the wall. “ ‘m sorry I was so stupid,” he whispered. Romi put his hands on Karik’s shoulders and made him turn around, before pulling him close, wrapping his arms around him both for warmth and for comfort. “It’s not you who should apologise, it’s me. I should never have let things get this far. I’m your superior—it’s actually illegal for me to even think the things...to want the things....” He made Karik look at him. “If you think you misread the situation, you didn’t,” he said quietly. “But I still can’t.” Karik’s eyes were huge, wounded things as he looked up at Romi. “I’m your healer. It’s wrong of me too...but I can’t help it anyway.” He buried his face in Romi’s coat front, his body trembling with convulsive shivers. Romi hesitantly laid his hand on Karik’s head, and gently petted his hair. Didn’t expect it to be so soft. “You’re not really my healer. Don’t worry about it.” Karik lifted his head and glared furiously at him. “You’re not my superior either—at least you won’t be the moment we get home.”
“That’s a small but significant difference. Gods...I can’t do this. I can’t let you do this to yourself either. Look at you—you’re young, handsome, a prize for anyone. You’ve not even begun to explore what love is, and I’m too...battered...to let you use me for that.” The glare became glacial, as Karik pushed him away, shrugging into his coat and doing it up, lips pressed thinly together. “I see. I’m a child and a selfish child at that. I guess I did misread things. I thought you liked me, thought you respected me. And all this time, you’ve been protecting yourself against my exploration.” He pushed past Romi, but Romi couldn’t let him go with that mistaken assessment. He grabbed Karik’s shoulder and found himself being faced by a coldly hostile man. “Let go of me.” He dropped his hand in shock at the bitterness in Karik’s voice—it was like that first time.... “You’re wrong. You’ve heard me wrong. I need you to hear me right.” Karik’s hostile look became puzzled. “You said—” “You heard wrong. Listen with your heart and not your head for a change!” Romi put his hands on him again, expecting a rebuff but receiving none. “It’s not you I’m afraid of,” he said quietly, drawing Karik close. “It’s me. I don’t want you to break my heart—but more than that, I don’t want to be the one to break yours. And I will. I would have to. First...first love....” He smiled to take the sting from his words. “Or whatever you call it...can’t last. Someone will break your heart for the first time. I just can’t bear it to be me.” “You won’t be. Soza broke it first.” “Karik...he never broke it because he never had it.” Karik tilted his head quizzically. “I...could break your heart?” “Easy as breathing.” Karik stepped forward, sliding under his hands, and stood hard against him. He put his arms around Romi’s waist, looked up with those extraordinary eyes, and Romi was lost, irrevocably. “You could break my heart too. But you won’t.” He leaned up, lips parted, so desperate, so beautiful. Romi should be stronger, resist this because it was so very wrong for them both, but there seemed nothing he could do but give in to the inevitable, meeting him halfway and pressing his mouth against Karik’s own. Gods, I’ve lost my mind. But he found it hard to care, just then. The kiss went on and on, Karik resting trustingly in his embrace, letting Romi guide this moment as if Romi had the least damn idea what he was doing. He didn’t. All he knew was that this felt good and Karik was perfect in his arms, his lips soft and eager, his body a solid, delicious weight against him. It was a powerful, dangerous feeling, and Romi had no strength to fight it, and no will to try. Finally, a little common sense prevailed, and he pulled back. Karik made a little noise of protest. “Your beard feels strange,” Romi said with a smile, his voice husky with lust. “And I’m freezing my damn balls off.”
“Cabin?” Karik’s voice was as rough as his own. He was already tugging Romi towards the stairs and to shelter. Romi let him lead—it wasn’t as if he knew what he should be doing any more. As soon as the door closed behind them, Karik’s arms were around him again, and Romi was drawn into another enthusiastic, if rather artless kiss. The sheer clumsiness of it touched him unfathomably—knowing that he really was the first person Karik had ever done this with, frightened and amazed him, and left him with a huge responsibility. This had to be perfect. “This is madness,” he murmured, leaning his forehead against Karik’s. “Why?” Romi pulled back to look into Karik’s smiling, puzzled eyes. “Because.... Damn it, there are a hundred reasons this is wrong, and only one that makes it right.” “But the one reason...can help us find the answers to the hundred others?” Karik asked hopefully. Romi shook his head, raising his hand to stroke along the peculiar coarseness of Karik’s short beard. It was odd, but not unpleasant. He resisted the urge to scritch his fingers in it, and sighed. “Love doesn’t, as a matter of fact, conquer all. Nor does lust. If anything, it just complicates things.” “Oh. I wasn’t even thinking about lust.” Romi mentally cursed himself again, taking Karik’s hands in his own. “We should slow down if that’s the case.” “Oh!” Karik backed away a little. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean...I don’t want to tease....” His face had turned the most amazing red. “I just wanted to be close to you. I’m sorry.” “You know, people I kiss don’t usually have to apologise this much,” Romi said, smiling to reassure him. “Come here.” Karik came into his arms without hesitation, and Romi held him tight against him. “You’re not a tease, but we should slow down and give this a bit of thought. There are all sorts of problems ahead of us, and I really don’t want you hurt.” He kissed Karik’s forehead again. “I won’t be the one to break your heart,” he said firmly. “I won’t allow that.” “I know. But can we just...be together while we think? I miss you...I mean, sleeping with you. I just want to be near you.” His expression was a mixture of hope and a little misery. Romi kissed his forehead again, and then, gently, kissed him on the lips. “I missed you too,” he admitted. “But, uh, sleeping together often leads to, er...sleeping together. You don’t want that yet, do you?” Now it was just misery on Karik’s face as he shook his head. “I’m sorry....” Romi made him look up, and stared into his eyes. “No more apologising. I understand. I think it’s a good thing we don’t—I’m breaking enough damn regulations as it is,” he muttered. “I just want to touch you—I can’t stop,” Karik said, sounding rather confused by this phenomenon. Romi grinned. “Now that’s normal. Why don’t we go to bed anyway? It’s late and I’m cold.” “Um...will you kiss me again?”
For an answer, Romi did just that—regulations or no damn regulations, he couldn’t get enough of the way Karik melted against him. “Try and stop me.” Karik smiled under his lips. “I won’t ever do anything you don’t want me to, and you’re never to think you can’t tell me ‘no’, is that clear?” “You too?” “Absolutely. Now, bed.” It was like coming home, having Karik nestling against him. “I really missed this,” Karik whispered, snuggling close with Romi’s arm around him. “You always felt so good.” “You too—too damn good,” Romi said, tilting his head and kissing his companion again, to his companion’s obvious delight. He was glad Karik liked kissing—it was one of his favourite things in the world, and Karik felt wonderful, with lips almost too soft for a man’s but with the strangeness of the beard to make it real. He rubbed his fingers against the curly mass. “This takes some getting used to.” “Sorry.” “No more apologising, I said.” He sighed, and held Karik a little closer, extinguishing the hovering fire sprite as he did so. “This doesn’t solve anything, you know. We still live at opposite ends of the country.” “I’ll move. I’ll go wherever you are, I swear.” “No, you won’t, damn it. I won’t let you throw your career away for me.” He felt Karik move back a little. “I would give everything up for you,” he said in a low voice. Romi sighed again, and found Karik’s face, so he could rest his cheek against his companion’s. “Yes, I know you would, but I can’t let you do that. A future can’t be built on a ruin.” “You sound...like you regret this.” Romi wove his fingers into the base of Karik’s braid, and began a gentle massage by way of apology. “No, I don’t. I just wish it was all as simple as you want it to be. My heart’s battered, I told you that. I can’t help but see the possible problems.” He entwined his fingers in Karik’s. “This may not end how you want it, but my feelings are real, and I want you, and this. I just won’t promise more than I have, and I don’t want you to sacrifice your life.” “You’re all I want,” Karik said stubbornly. “Oh yes? So you’d be happy to never see your Ma and Pa and Kei and Jes again, just to be with me? You’d give up your important work for me?” Karik didn’t answer, but his complete stillness was enough for Romi. “I won’t be the cause of you losing them. Don’t ask it of me.” “I can’t bear it if we have to part, Romi. It’s been tearing at me for weeks, you know it has.” “I know, I know.” Romi kissed him again. Karik reached up to touch his face and Romi caught his fingers to kiss those too. “It’s not fair on you, I know, cynical old me pouring cold water on your happiness. But I can’t help it—not after Daiso. Forgive me?”
“Nothing to forgive, Romi. It’s...hard...to hear it. But I promise to be brave about it. I won’t whine.” “Thank you.” He held Karik more tightly, wishing that somehow a solution would just magically appear, but the odds were very much against them. “I could never regret you. I’ll always be glad I met you, that we became friends.” “You said ‘what about memories?’ Can we...make memories here, now? While we can? Even if...we can’t be together?” “Of course we can. Why be miserable before we need to? That’s just silly.” For an answer, Karik leaned up and kissed him again, and tucked his hand under Romi’s armpit, cuddling close like he was trying to get inside Romi’s skin. Romi felt like a boor, bringing hard realities into Karik’s first experience of intimacy, and in truth, he was so intoxicated by being able to hold him in this way, knowing he was welcomed and desired, that he found it hard to be realistic. But he would not allow Karik to suffer because of false promises or dishonesty. There was pain ahead for both of them, and he couldn’t prevent it all—but he would do what he could, he vowed, his hand resting over Karik’s heart.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Staying Power: 42 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Karik had always considered himself a steady person, even rather dull. Not prone to emotional storms, or fancies. The attack in Visiqe had rocked that view of himself, and he was far more volatile after the attack than he had been before it. But that was as nothing to the giddy way his feelings now swooped and plummeted from minute to minute. From the headiest joy when Romi smiled at him, lean in to give Karik one of his oh-so-wonderful kisses, or run his fingers along Karik’s beard or down his braid, to the deepest depression when he realised that only this one thing had changed, and their fate was still to be separated, his emotions rang the changes all his waking hours and left him, at times, exhausted and fretful. Romi seemed unaffected, but then he was good at projecting calm confidence when he wasn’t deathly ill, so Karik didn’t know how much was genuine calmness and how much not. All he knew was that Romi’s hand on him could send him into ecstasy, and his lips were the sweetest thing Karik had ever known. Being with Romi, having his arm around him, made him tremble with pleasure, with the need to be closer, to touch, to taste. No matter how much he got of Romi’s caresses, he always wanted more—embarrassing, when he had never been a slave to any appetite. He discovered that he could be very greedy when he was offered what he truly wanted. Very little changed, and yet everything had changed. They spent their days in the cabin as before, but now fingers brushed along hands and arms, and there was always time for a gentle kiss, a smile at the way words could have several meanings if spoken with affection. Romi’s arm would steal around Karik’s waist as they talked, or he would take Karik’s hand in his own big paw, brown and callused against Karik’s pale skin, his long fingers exploring the lines and dimples of Karik’s palm with surprising delicacy. When Romi loosed his braid in the morning to groom it, it was natural for Karik to be the one to comb it carefully and plait it with love, and Romi took as much pleasure from braiding Karik’s own hair. Each touch carried a message—’you are loved, you are wanted, you are needed’— and every look betrayed longing that this strange little idyll might never end. Nothing in his life had prepared him for this. All the little crushes and unrequited longings he had experienced before were weak and feeble sensations compared with this desperate desire. His body was one huge urge, one unsatisfied itch. He felt so good when they lay together at night, so at peace, but his body would not let go of this nagging want. It was what it wanted, that scared him to death. Romi assured him there was no hurry for more than kisses and hugs, nothing more they needed to do. That was a kind lie. Even if he’d been the innocent everyone assumed he was, spending any time with his parents or Kei and Arman would make it obvious that a healthy, loving relationship involved healthy, loving sex. He knew perfectly well what men did together too. Not only had it been part of his training because healers had to know the potential health risks, but also Kei, the only person in his
intimate circle to whom he had confessed that he really preferred male beauty to that of women, had answered his embarrassed questions as honestly and openly as he did everything else. That wasn’t the same as really knowing, not the same as feeling, but he had nothing to use as a reference. Sex with Mila had been a hurried, awkward thing, for all that the three of them had wanted a child, and Karik had never seen it as anything to do with his own desires or sexual feelings, never thought it made him in the least bit experienced. It roused no emotions in him other than the joy of being part of Jes’s creation. That wasn’t true for his only other experience of sex. Confused, fractured memories of the attack tormented him, dark dreams made him wake gasping at night in horror. Worse—Romi kept inadvertently setting Karik’s terrors off. He could gently stroke Karik’s face nine times in a row, and evoke nothing but pleasure—the tenth time would trigger uncontrollable shaking, and Karik would be lost inside his panic, caught by reactions he simply could not control or predict. The first time it happened, Romi waited patiently for the fit to end, and then took Karik into his arms. “Feeling better?” he asked quietly, kissing Karik’s forehead. “I’m s-sorry.” His teeth were still chattering, and he could hardly make out his own words. “What for?” “B-Being so s-stupid.” “I see.” He just sat back on the bunk and pulled Karik closer. Karik loved resting in his arms—it made him feel warm and wanted—and as Romi stroked his hair, not saying anything, his steady breathing helped him calm down. “As a scientist, what would you say was happening? If you saw this in someone else?” “My m-mind....” Romi held his hand up. “No—pretend it’s someone else. Observe it from the outside. What you would see, not what you’re feeling.” Karik frowned, and concentrated. “I wuh-would see...a s-simple action, setting off an e-extreme reaction.” “Yes. And knowing nothing of what the person was feeling, but knowing the background, what would you guess was going on?” “Th-Their m-memories...are being dredged up?” Romi nodded, clearly waiting for him to continue. “The action...is something that huh-happened...before...and...somehow...I—they—know.” “Yes.” Romi kissed him then, long and sweet, and then took his hand. “So why apologise when you can’t control it, and it would be the same no matter who it happened to?” “I h-hate this,” Karik spat, furious at the way his mind and body betrayed him. “I know how you feel. Every time I think about what I could be doing, but can’t—for now at least, until I recover—I feel trapped. But I’m getting better—and so are you. Don’t tell me, as a scientist, you couldn’t have predicted a little of this.”
Karik could only look at him, wishing he could be perfect, and brave, and unbroken for this gorgeous man with the wonderful eyes and those clever, tender lips. “What if I d-don’t get better?” he whispered. “Then we find another way around things,” Romi said. “You keep telling me it will take time. So follow your own advice.” Karik stared at him. “But if we have to part...what if we never...?” “You don’t think you have enough to worry about?” “But I want to.” “Part of you does, yes. Part of me does too—a very persistent part of me, I have to say,” Romi added with a grin and a quick glance downwards that made Karik follow his gaze, and then blush red hot as he understood. “But when I make love to you for the first time, I want it to be in a proper bed with lots of room.” That ‘when’ was both terrifying and wonderful to Karik. “I won’t let him beat me.” “He won’t,” Romi said, then kissed him again. At that moment, Karik could almost believe him.
~~~~~~~~ The days went past with terrifying speed. They spoke little of what might happen when they got to Darshek, since they both knew the reality. Romi, like Karik, was happy to live in the moment, exploring each other and being together—but Karik knew it was only a matter of time before hard choices would have to be made. On the last day of the journey, he called constantly in his mind to Neka and Seiki, wondering if they would hear him at all if they thought he was dead. It wasn’t until he was eating lunch, sitting on deck with Romi at his side, relishing the warmer air that now blew from the southern seas—the snow and freezing temperatures of Andon now just a memory—that there was suddenly an excited shriek in his ‘inner ear’. “Karik! Blessed gods! Are you real?” “Neka! Yes, I’m real.” “We were told you were dead—everyone’s been in mourning for you! Reis has been distraught— no one knows what to do with him. What happened?” “I’ll tell you when I get into harbour, which should be in about four hours. Neka, please, can you tell my parents? And Kei and Arman and Seiki, and everyone? I don’t want them to die of shock.” “Of course I will. But are you truly well? I can’t believe...oh, Karik, darling, we cried so hard for you.” “I’m sorry, Neka. There wasn’t much I could do about it where I was, except come back as fast as I could. Will you tell Ma?” “This very instant. Oh, gods, when I tell people, they’ll be so happy! Back soon, dear.”
Karik grinned and looked at Romi who was watching him closely. “Neka—she’ll tell everyone. Oh —I forgot to mention your parents!” “When we get into port will be soon enough,” Romi said. “I take it she was happy to know you’re alive?” “Thrilled. It might get a bit overwhelming when we arrive,” he added, hastily counting up the people who might just decide to turn up at the docks to meet them. “I’m a Darshianese soldier, I’ll cope. Nearly there. Gods, I want to be on solid ground.” “I...don’t. Well, I do and I don’t,” Karik said. Romi cocked his head questioningly. “Being with you, just the two of us...I’ve been so happy.” Romi put his arm around Karik and kissed his temple. “Me too,” he said quietly. “But it doesn’t mean we can’t be happy when we get on shore.” “Things will change.” Romi made Karik look right at him. “Things always change,” he said. “Very often for the better.” He laid his cheek against Karik’s. “Standing still just isn’t an option.” “I know,” Karik said with a sigh. He jumped as a new voice suddenly entered his head. “Karik!” “Ma! Gods, Ma!” And then she was right ‘there’, thanks to Neka’s powers—looking bewildered and happy and so...Ma. “You better really be alive, young man!” “I really am, Ma. It was all a lie, what those people said. I wasn’t even close to dying. Is Pa there?” “Right here, son. Are you really all right? Not injured?” “Not a scratch, Pa, honest. Romi got us all home safe, but he got hurt himself.” “Romi...? Ah, the lieutenant? He’s all right?” “He’s here—look.” He turned so they could ‘see’ him—Romi smiled politely. “Oh Pa, Ma, I’m sorry you had the worry.” His mother looked old—they both did. Older and tired. “Are you both all right?” “Now we are, son. When are you coming home?” “Not for a few days—Romi needs to be treated at the infirmary, and we’ve been travelling so long, I’m exhausted.” ‘Then I’m coming to Darshek, soon as the rains stop,” his father said, and Karik knew better than to argue with him when he adopted that tone. “Gods, Karik, we had a death ceremony for you. I can’t...I really can’t believe you’re alive and well.” There were tears in Pa’s eyes now. “I’m sorry, Pa. I really am alive, I swear. I’ve got so much to tell you, and I want to know all your news.”
“Nothing much to tell, son. Risa and Keran had a little boy, who’s doing well. Gyo and Meran were betrothed but they...uh...well, after we got the news, they put things off for a bit. Gyo’s heartbroken. So’s Meran—Keiji doesn’t know what to do with himself either.” “Oh.” Karik looked at Romi, who squeezed his hand. “Will you tell everyone?” “Are you joking, lad? Fedor will call a meeting in five minutes—there’ll be a party going on in an hour. I’ll bring you some cakes.” Karik grinned. “You better, Pa.” He couldn’t help but notice, while he and his Pa talked and happened and why their deaths had been falsely reported, that background, which was most unlike her. He couldn’t exactly ask hoped Neka could tell him. He hoped it was just shock over his feeling it was something else.
Karik briefly explained what had his mother had retreated to the Pa if anything was wrong, so he miraculous return, but he got the
He and his Pa talked for half an hour or more, but Romi indicated he needed to move, and Karik felt he had monopolised Neka’s time long enough. “I’ll speak to you soon, Pa.” “Can you manage not to die or be stabbed or be kidnapped until I see you again? You’re taking years off my life every time something like this happens. I feel older than Fedor these days.” “I’m sorry, Pa. Ma? Will you come to Darshek too?” “Probably not, Karik, dear. But you come home to me, do you hear?” “Yes, Ma. I love you.” “Oh...Karik.... I have to go.” And the connection was suddenly closed, Karik only getting a hint of the fact his Ma had started to cry. Romi looked at him, clearly waiting for him to explain. “She’s really upset. This has really hurt her,” Karik said, shocked at the change he’d seen, and puzzled as to why, when he was back safe, she still seemed so grief-stricken. “It’s bound to have done,” Romi said. “But at least you’ve come back. It could so easily have been a true report.” “I know,” Karik said soberly. “Neka, what’s wrong with Ma?” She didn’t answer for a few moments—Karik wondered if she was busy—but then she spoke again, sounding rather subdued. “Uh, Karik dear, you really should speak to Arman about it, I think. I’ve let him know you’re on your way, and he’ll meet you at the docks. He wanted to know how many of your team are with you.” “Just captain Romi. Kepi and Taz went to Urshek direct—Romi will need to speak to his colonel about them.” “Romi—do you have to stay in barracks?” “Only if there’s no better offer.” “I’m sure there will be.” “Do you think Kei and Arman will mind if Romi comes with me, Neka?” “I don’t know, dear. I’ll ask, but it’s possible they won’t be able to have him to stay.”
Karik frowned. There was something very odd about all this. He’d taken it for granted that any friend of his would be welcome at Kei and Arman’s—they always had been in the past. “Arman says to tell you that you can have a herd of jombekers to stay as long as you get yourself back in one piece.” Now that sounded more like it. “You can come with me,” Karik said, grinning at Romi. “Good. Karik, if I don’t get up and stretch, my arse is going to fall off. We’ll be in dock in a couple of hours—maybe you can give people your news then?” “Of course.” “Neka, I’ll see you all soon. How are Seiki and Mila and Jes?” “Absolutely fine, only very sad of course. We can fix that in no time. I’ll tell them all to let you have this evening in peace to settle in and talk to Kei, but you can expect to be overrun tomorrow!” “Give me a chance to get Romi to the infirmary, Neka, and then I’ll brace myself. I’ll come to the house?” “If you don’t, I suspect Jera and Reis will just come and kidnap you, darling. I’m so glad you’re safe. Please don’t leave us again too soon.” “I won’t, I promise. Give Reis a hug for me, and kiss Jes. I’ll see you tomorrow.” Romi got to his feet, and helped Karik to stand. “Something’s wrong,” Karik said. “I don’t know what, but something just doesn’t feel right.” “You can’t do much about it from here. Time for that when we get to shore.” Naturally time, which had slipped away much too fast over the previous fourteen days, now crawled achingly slow, and Karik swore they were getting no closer at all to Darshek. But finally the big cliffs and cannons which guarded the entrance to the massive harbour could be seen, and not long after that, they were passing them. Suddenly, they were in Darshek, the many ships and small boats that used the harbour sailing past their own vessel, and on the shore Karik could easily distinguish the House of the Rulers and the academy. He and Romi waited on deck along with the other passengers, all eager to end their voyage and get back to loved ones. Karik could hardly stand still for anxiety, for wanting to see everyone again and fearing what this would mean. Romi squeezed his hand. “Your fingers are ice-cold. Why so nervous?” Karik turned to him. “Promise me...you won’t give us up without a fight? Don’t just...leave without saying a word like you tried to do before?” Romi grimaced, leaned over and kissed him. “I swear on my honour and the name of my clan. If we must part, I’ll say goodbye. But I’ll do everything I can do to avoid having to part at all. Now, calm down and look happy for your family, will you?” There being no more solemn oath a Darshianese could make, Karik had to be satisfied with that. But the anxiety remained. He hadn’t expected his homecoming to be such a complicated matter. He hoped his fears would prove to be baseless—but he had a nasty feeling in his gut they would not be.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Staying Power: 43 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Romi kept his arm around Karik until they were told to move back away from the rail for the tedious business of hauling the boat up to the docks. He shared his companion’s unease, but in his experience, the only cure for fear was to meet the cause head-on. That would be what they would be doing in just a few minutes. It was a dull, overcast winter’s day, though much warmer than Andon. The warmth of the lurking sun seeped into his bones, gave him a feeling of hope that in his own country, in a milder climate, he could at last shake the lingering effects of his illness and resume his former perfect health. That would bring other dilemmas for them to solve, but he just felt that if he could be well again, answers to the rest of it might come. He had a feeling he was letting Karik’s optimism—the flush of new, first love— carry him along when he should be more sensible. But Karik had not failed him yet, and he trusted Karik as much as Karik had placed his trust in Romi. It was a leap of faith. Romi just hoped for a soft landing at the end of his fall. The ship was finally secured, and the gangplanks lowered. “There they are,” Karik said, pointing to a carriage. Even from here, Romi easily made out where Lord Arman and captain Tiko waited patiently for them to disembark. He made a surreptitious adjustment to his borrowed clothing and wished his own uniform had not been too disreputable to don again. Wearing civilian costume in front of his superiors sat very oddly with him. They let most of the other passengers go first, then Karik bounded down the gangplank like a hiqwiq. With the dignity of his soon-to-be-shed rank, Romi followed behind, ready to play whatever role Karik wanted him to until he could tell his family of all the developments. Lord Arman was out of the carriage now, and Karik ran to him, being swept up into a heart-felt hug. Romi kept a polite distance—only when the two of them stepped apart, and Tiko had greeted Karik, did he approach, saluting smartly. “Lieutenant Romi, my lord—reporting ‘mission accomplished’.” Lord Arman held out his hand for Romi to shake. “You brought him home,” he said, in a voice roughened by emotion, taking Romi’s hand in a powerful grip. “By all the gods, you brought him home.” “He brought me back as much as I brought him, my lord.” Tiko cleared his throat. “Lieutenant, if you could let me know who needs to be advised of what, I’ll tell the southerners. Matters of pay and leave can be dealt with tomorrow—I’m sure his lordship and young Karik want to get back.” “Certainly.” Romi quickly gave Tiko the information, and also requested that a message be sent to his parents. Unlike Karik, he would not have the luxury of speaking to them, not unless they took the
unprecedented step of coming to Ai-Vinri just to do so, but he could make sure they got word. “And my people?” “All well. Sibu went back south a month ago with Corporal Jou after she finished her treatment, and the rest of them are all back safe and sound at their barracks. The men from here are out in the field again, but they’ll be glad to have word of you. Come by tomorrow, and I’ll give you a report.” Romi saluted, Tiko had a brief whispered conversation with Karik, and then Lord Arman told them to get into the carriage as Tiko walked off towards the Darshek barracks. The driver set a cracking pace, as the Ruler looked at his nephew and shook his head. “You look like a bean plant, lad. Both of you do. What did you do—walk all the way from Visiqe?” “Close enough, uncle Arman. We’ve got so much to tell you.” “I’m sure you have, but I’ll spare you the effort of telling it twice. Lieutenant, may I expect your report or have you been too preoccupied?” For a moment, Romi thought he meant ‘preoccupied with Karik’ and gave a guilty start, before realising he just meant ‘preoccupied’ generally with survival. “No, my lord—we’ve had enough leisure for that.” He had it at the top of his pack, and handed it over. “You’ll have had my notes from the earlier part of the expedition?” Lord Arman flicked cursorily though the notebook Romi had used for his report, then put it in his lap. “Yes—very thorough, but you’ll understand it’s the latter part that I’ll find most fascinating, under the circumstances.” He gave his nephew another searching look, as if he half expected him to disappear under his nose. The man was worn to a thread. “Of course, my lord.” Lord Arman continued to stare at them both, but said very little, which surprised Romi, knowing how ecstatic he must be to have Karik back with them again. Karik was right—there had to be something else going on. The pretty jesigs were also fast, and brought them to a quiet street on the very outskirts of the city proper in very little time. Romi was rather surprised—somehow, he’d expected a Ruler to live in much grander style, but there was nothing remarkable at all about the house in front of which they stopped. Lord Arman and Karik grabbed the packs, and the Ruler dismissed his driver. Karik stopped for a moment, staring at the house with an odd expression on his face. “Karik?” “Just...savouring.” Lord Arman’s face split into a grin, the first real smile since they had arrived. “I know how you feel, my lad. Go on, we’ll catch you up.” Karik ran up the path and through the doors. The Ruler shook his head. “So much energy.” He gave Romi a penetrating stare. “You’ve been unwell, Neka said.” “Yes, my lord. But Karik has been as kind and diligent an attendant as I could ever wish for.” “He’s a very good man, my nephew. Please, call me Arman in my own home, lieutenant.”
“Then please call me Romi.” Arman clapped him on the shoulder. “Done. Come inside. Our housekeeper has been in a frenzy ever since the message came.” They found a tableau of restrained hysteria before them as Romi and Arman entered the kitchen. Karik was hugging his weeping uncle, and standing near them, also crying, and winding her hands in her apron, was an elderly woman apparently on the point of collapse. Without even stopping to think, Romi went to her and took her hands. “Why don’t you sit, madam?” “Pira,” Arman murmured. “She’s Pira. Pira, this is Romi. Romi, I’m going to make some damn tea. Look after her,” he added as Pira burst into a fresh bout of tears. “Now, now, Pira,” Romi said, wondering exactly how he had ended up comforting a stranger while Karik was sitting a foot away. “Everyone’s safe now.” He made her sit, and she wiped her eyes with the corner of her apron. “Oh, blessed gods,” she sniffled. “I’m sorry. Arman, let me—” “Please, just sit down, Pira. Kei? Karik?” Kei released his nephew, but tears still streamed down his face, even as he pulled out a handkerchief to wipe his eyes. “It’s a miracle. A true miracle.” He squeezed Karik again. “Are you real, nephew? Honestly?” “Completely real, Kei. Don’t cry, you know I hate that.” Romi handed Karik his own handkerchief. “Same goes for you,” he said, giving his friend a smile, and getting a sweet one in return. He felt awkward, just sitting there holding Pira’s hand while a real live Ruler bustled about making tea for them all, but it seemed to be the way things were in this household—no one stood on ceremony. Kei gradually collected himself, and finally turned to Romi with a damp smile. “I’m sorry—I’ve been very rude. Welcome back. Thank you for bringing him home.” “He saved my life, Master Kei. I’m the one who’s grateful.” For some reason, the other man winced. “Just Kei, please. No titles. Right,” he said with a forcedlooking grin, turning to his nephew. “Tell us everything from the beginning.” “Just the important things,” Arman amended, setting the tea and mugs down, while Pira fetched a tray of cakes were being kept warm by the oven. “Romi, perhaps you could start—why were you reported dead when you weren’t?” Even only hitting the important facts, it was a long story, and Romi was glad they’d had a rehearsal with Wepizi. Kei said nothing during the recitation, and Arman very little, only asking for clarification here and there as needed. When Romi was done and sipped from his now cold tea, Kei looked at his lover. “You said it all smelled wrong. I should have believed you.” Arman reached for Kei’s hand. “Be fair. None of us had any reason to doubt the team was lost— only the circumstances.”
“Soza’s got our collection,” Karik said, his bitterness over that small betrayal amongst so much else, clear in his voice. “I want it back—he doesn’t deserve it.” “At the moment, nephew mine, I really don’t give a damn about the collection,” Kei said. “All I care about is that you’re back and alive.” Arman cleared his throat. “There are obviously issues of injustice to contend with, but let’s not deal with them tonight. I’m sure you want a decent meal and a bath—” Karik gave a little yelp. “Oh, but Romi! Kei, you need to examine him. I hoped the academy would know more about the marsh bug poison.” “You’re right, I should do that before anything else. Romi, if you would step along to my workroom? Then I can prepare a report for you to take to the academy tomorrow.” Karik frowned, as did Romi. “But you can take it with you yourself.” “I won’t be going there again. Come along, Romi—it’s down the hall. Pira, dear, would you mind setting the bath going?”
~~~~~~~~ Karik waited until they were alone, and then he gave his uncle a stern look. “Will you please tell me what’s going on, uncle Arman? What’s wrong with Kei? And Ma?” Arman grimaced and got up, busying himself at the stove. Karik could have shaken him in frustration, though it was clear he was using the physical activity as a distraction. “It hit him hard. It hit us all hard, you must know that. But with him—he had all our grief and his own to bear. That was even before he decided it was all his fault and...then your mother....” “Ma? What did she do?” Arman turned, his face impassive. “Kei blamed himself for your death. So did she. Very forcefully, very cruelly. And now she’s said she refuses to allow him to speak to her again, or to Reji through her. In fact, she won’t pass any messages from him to anyone in Ai-Albon, not even to Myka or Fedor. She told him...that he was dead to her from now on.” Instinctively, Karik’s hand came up to rest over the tero stone around his neck. “She did that?” he whispered. “But it’s not his fault—how could it be?” “Because you work for him and the mission was his idea. The fact that there were dozens of other people involved in the decision and planning made no difference—if anyone was to blame, it was me much more than him.” “No one was pissing well to blame except Kizinke and Soza!” Arman raised an eyebrow at his language. “Well, that’s true enough. But Kei didn’t see it that way, and the long and short of it is that he’s resigned from the academy. He hasn’t worked there—or anywhere—since the day after the argument with your mother.”
Karik gasped in shock. “No...no, Arman, that’s wrong! You have to make him go back!” “Trust me, nephew, I’ve been trying for weeks. It’s all I can do just to keep him going most days.” “But now I’m home, he’ll go back, won’t he? I’ll tell Ma she can’t do that—I can’t believe any of this. How can she...how can he...?” He looked pleadingly at his uncle. “How can we fix this?” “You coming home is a start. But that’s all it is. To be frank, I’m at my wits’ end. If you can’t fix it, no one can.” The kettle boiled and he took it from the stove, coming over to refresh the pot with the hot water. “But enough of that—we can’t right the world in an evening. Tell me how things stand with the lieutenant—you’ve mended a few fences there. I’m glad to see it—he’s a good man. “ Karik smiled, though it was an effort. “I love him. Only...he lives in the south. I don’t want to lose him.” Arman sat down and patted his hand. “Now, don’t fret about that. He’s still seconded to me and I’m guessing that Kei will suggest a period of rest and recuperation for the pair of you. Give us all time to get used to the fact you’re not dead, and then we can see how we can help your love life.” He smiled, but sadness still lurked behind his blue eyes. “I’m sorry, lad. Soza was my mistake. I knew he was a problem, and he shouldn’t have gone with you.” “We all made a mistake with him,” Karik said, letting a little of the bitterness he was feeling leak into his voice. “Me most of all for trusting him, and not seeing him for what he was.” Arman squeezed his hand. “Karik...we got reports of an attack on you. Do you want to tell me about that?” Karik stared, aghast—he hadn’t realised there were other ways Arman might have heard about Visiqe. “Do we have to do that tonight?” “Of course not. When you’re ready.” “I’m sorry about Ma. I don’t know why she would hurt Kei like that—she loves him, you know that.” “Yes, I do, and though I was very angry with her—still am—I know why she lashed out. I did a little lashing out myself. Thank the gods Lord Peika’s such an amiable soul, that’s all I can say. And Lord Meki’s had to listen to me rant more than once.” All this horrified him. He had no idea his ‘death’ would bring so much harm to those he loved. Grief, yes—but this went further than that. He had to do something about it—but it didn’t look like it would be easy.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Staying Power: 44 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Kei went to light a lamp, but Romi forestalled him, throwing out a ring of fire sprites to illuminate the room. “Ah, I forgot,” Kei said with a smile. “I’ve always had a particular fondness for the gift of fire-shaping. It would certainly be less painful than soul-touching.” Romi shrugged. “It has its uses.” “No doubt. Now, remove your shirt please.” His examination, while gentle and carried out with infinite consideration, was very thorough indeed, and Kei closely questioned Romi about every aspect of his health, diet and well-being. “You’re a good way underweight—you and Karik both. Was this the illness or the walking?” “The walking, mostly. My appetite was hit for several weeks, but most of the weight had gone before that.” “Hmmm—you will both have to be careful how you rebuild that. We don’t want it to just be fat. Now, I’m going to use my gift to examine your heart—it won’t hurt, I assure you.” He went to place his hands on Romi’s chest, but, instinctively, Romi moved back a little. “Wait—your soul-touching? How can...?” Kei laughed a little. “Ah—did my nephew not explain what an oddity I am? I’m a mind-mover too. Yes, I know,” he added, as Romi raised his eyebrows. “Don’t ask me to explain it, I have no idea. Now, please, be calm, breathe normally.” Romi felt very strange, knowing Kei could kill him with a thought as his gift probed Romi’s heart —he’d never experienced a mind-mover’s touch before. But as Kei promised, it didn’t hurt—he couldn’t feel anything at all. Finally, the healer stood up. “Well, the good news is that I can’t detect any real damage. In my opinion, you should, with care and time, make a full recovery.” Romi let out his breath. “Thank you. I thought I might have to leave the army.” Kei smiled. “Not unless you wish to. But it will take time, and you certainly won’t be back on duty for a month or more—I would say it would be safer to allow three months before you return to full activities. Is that likely to be a problem for your colonel?” “No—I’m due leave anyway, and I can always be on light duties, if he’s desperate for me to return. Since I’ve been dead, I doubt he’ll mind.” The joke fell completely flat. Kei winced and turned away. “I’m sorry—we’ve all just got used to the idea. Especially me—everyone I met told me I should be dead anyway from the marsh bug bite. Got very boring after a while.” “I can imagine.” Kei sat on a stool. Romi pulled on his shirt again and sat down too. “I’ll give you a note to take to the academy. Master Pitis is the leading expert on toxins and he may be able to give you a more precise timetable. I’m sure he will want to know more about this insect for a start.”
“Ah—what you said about not returning to the academy...?” “I’ve resigned,” Kei said briefly. “Pitis is a fine healer, and you can have every confidence in him.” He wrote something as he spoke—presumably his report. Without looking up, he said casually, “My nephew is really rather smitten, isn’t he?” No point in denying it to a soul-toucher. “It’s mutual. But there are some real difficulties ahead—I don’t know how we’ll resolve them.” “You mean the fact he lives here and you live there?” Romi nodded. “Ah, well. Bigger obstacles have been overcome, after all. I shouldn’t worry about it for now. But there’s something I do need to ask you about before we rejoin them. What happened in Visiqe?” The tone was no longer casual, nor was Kei’s look. “How much do you know?” “More than Arman. All he knows is what Lep Wepizi reported while telling us of your demise— that Karik had been attacked in Visiqe. It was your corporal Jou who, ah, indicated it might be...something more than the lep reported to us.” Romi wished Jou had kept her mouth shut, but if she’d thought them all dead, then discretion would have been pointless. “Karik doesn’t want you to know.” “I already do. What I don’t know is how he’s dealing with it—or who did it. Do you know?” “We’re pretty sure it was Soza.” Kei went white, clutching at his chest. Horrified, Romi went to support him, but was waved away. “I’m...I’m all right. Just get me some water—from there, please.” Romi hastily fetched a glassful from the pitcher standing on the side counter, and handed it to Kei, who sipped it. Gods, he had no idea the man was so delicate. “My fault,” he murmured, looking down at the glass. “Your fault? The attack?” “All of it,” he said grimly. “It was to please me that Karik decided on his present career though it caused his parents no end of pain. I sent Karik on this expedition and I persuaded Arman to keep Soza on the team, even though he told us plainly he shouldn’t be on it. I’m a fool, a dangerous fool, and I have no business being allowed to ruin people’s lives.” Romi stared, shocked at the raw anger and self-hatred in this gentle man’s voice. “Karik doesn’t see it that way at all. You’re his hero.” “Exactly. And I took that respect and admiration and nearly got him killed. That he wasn’t, was pure good luck, and I can take no credit for it. It wasn’t just him—it’s you, it’s Sibu and Reisa. Too many good people whose lives I’ve altered and hurt.” Romi dared to put a hand on Kei’s shoulder, uncertain what to say, since he knew so little of this man except through Karik’s adoring eyes. “If you bear responsibility, then what of me? I was actually there. I saw Soza in action. I should have packed him home at the first indication of the risk he posed. We saw plenty of it.”
But Kei only shook his head. “No, Romi—you’re very kind, but you were just doing your job, following orders. The orders were mine and the responsibility is mine. I won’t place myself in the position again. No more bright young lives blighted by my idiocy.” He rubbed at his eyes, looking very tired, old and broken. He looked up, and smiled, though it was positively painful to see. “Now, I’m sure you want a meal and a bath, not to mention a comfortable bed. Ah—you and Karik...how is he coping?” Romi was torn between wanting to preserve Karik’s privacy, and wanting this man’s skilled help. Finally he went for the help. “We’re taking it very slowly. He seems to be suffering a lot of flashbacks —I really don’t know what to do. We haven’t....” He coughed. “You know.” “I understand. I think that’s probably right for you now. My advice is the same as for your heart. Take it slow and carefully, be honest with each other. And I’ll be there if he wants to talk—or you do. He’s a very brave young man, you know. He’s overcome a lot of bad things in his life.” “He’s come a long way, and all on his own. But if he doesn’t get better, I might have to hunt Soza down and present Karik with his head on a pike.” Kei winced. “I think that would be counter-productive, much as I understand your anger. Arman will want to pursue this judicially. I urge you to convince Karik this is necessary—we must stop this man hurting anyone else.” “He understands that. But I can’t force him, and I certainly won’t allow you to try.” “And I thought I was protective of him,” Kei said, shaking his head. “I’ll leave it for now, but one of us—either Arman or myself—will have to speak to him. I’m deferring to you because you and he need to work through this together, and I can tell how you feel about him. Don’t imagine for a moment I’ll allow you to hurt him.” Kei’s fierce tone suddenly and forcefully reminded Romi that this man was the lover of one of the most powerful people in Darshian, and while he might not make threats often, he most certainly did not do so lightly either. “You don’t need to warn me, Master Kei. Karik has earned my devotion many times over, and I would cut my hand off before I allowed it to hurt him.” “I’m no one’s master. Forgive me—I’m, uh, a little....” Kei cleared his throat, and looked rather lost for a moment or two, as if he’d forgotten why he’d become so roused. “Why don’t you go and find them? I’ll be out soon. Pira and I found you both some spare clothes. I’m sure nothing fits, but needs must. We can get some things tailored for you, we know people who are very good at such things....” He was almost babbling, pushing Romi out of the room with his words, trying to hide his distress. The man needed nothing less than a hug and comforting, but Romi didn’t know him well enough to offer either. Faced with Kei’s relentless, obscuring chatter, there wasn’t anything Romi could do but go back to the kitchen and find Karik. But that didn’t mean he wasn’t deeply worried—for Kei, for Karik, and what this meant for both of them. This was far worse than anything he or Karik had anticipated, and he was out of his depth.
But the bastards didn’t drown me before—they won’t manage this time. An answer had to exist.
~~~~~~~~ Romi only had to look at Arman as he returned to the kitchen, and the Ruler slipped out without a word to find his lover. Pira was still off somewhere, so Karik, looking depressed and worried, was left alone. Romi sat down beside him. “He told you?” Karik nodded. “What a pissing mess.” “My Ma...gods, Romi—Kei and Ma are close as brother and sister yet she’s forbidden him to speak to her or Pa, or Kei’s family. I’d have thought she’d cut her heart out before she’d do something like that. Why is this happening?” He turned his soulful eyes on Romi for an answer, but Romi had none to offer. “Grief, I guess. Guilt too, from what Kei said.” Pira entered the kitchen then, carrying a small pile of drying cloths. “Oh, where’s his lordship now?” “With Kei,” Karik said. She shook her head. “Those two will be the end of me. If you’d not come back, lad, I fear we would have lost Kei and that would have meant losing the both of them.” Under the table, Karik’s hand tightened around Romi’s. “Still, now it’ll be mended, won’t it? So all I need to do is put some meat on your bones. Don’t they feed people in Andon?” “They do, but we had to feed ourselves most of the time.” Romi watched Karik make the effort to appear bright and lively, trotting out stories to entertain Pira as she prepared their evening meal, making it seem as if they’d just been on a jolly adventure, with no hint of the real agonies and sorrows they’d experienced. Romi played along, and their play-acting cheered up Pira, at least. At least it did until Kei and Arman came in, hand in hand, faces drawn and sad, and then her mood dropped once again. She fluttered around Kei, asking if he wanted tea or a sweet cake, helplessly offering domestic comforts for a heart damaged almost too much to bear, and which no amount of cakes could heal. The one thing that brought a genuine smile to Kei’s face was any sign of affection between him and Karik. He’d been expecting disapproval—at least from Arman, who surely must have realised the breach of regulations—but the Ruler didn’t seem to mind in the least, smiling benignly as Karik took Romi’s hand, or leaned towards him in a familiar way. But for the rest of it, he sat solemn-faced and clearly worried nearly to death about his lover. The arrival of the food covered up for the many silences in the conversation, when Karik’s efforts to be cheerful failed, and Romi was unable to dredge up anything that wouldn’t remind their hosts of their pain. The food, at least, was no cause for sadness, and after Karik had almost inhaled a plateful in his enthusiasm, he sat back with a sigh. “Pira, I used to dream about your cakes, you know. And your roast fowl. You couldn’t have made a more perfect meal to welcome us home.”
“It’s nothing much—you didn’t give us much warning, young man.” But she smiled as she scolded him. “It reminds me how much we need to improve communications with Andon—and across Darshian,” Arman said. “Everyone here is so complacent, relying on the mind-speakers, but what happens when you can’t?” Kei grimaced and looked down at the table. Arman, realising his gaffe, hastily took his lover’s hand, and kissed his forehead. Romi cleared his throat. “Had a similar conversation once or twice with Wepizi, actually. The Andonese have runners and express riders, but it’s no good in the winter. You need a mechanical system that doesn’t care how cold or snowy it is.” “Maybe we could find a way to send messages through the air,” Karik said. “I’ve an engineer who’s been experimenting with sending sound through water,” Arman said thoughtfully. “But that’s not very practical. The Prij use a battery of signalling towers, but that doesn’t suit all terrains. It’s been a dream of mine for years to solve this problem, but our mechanical knowledge is too limited.” That gave Romi and Arman something to talk about for a while, but Kei didn’t join in at all. Karik, obviously fretting for his uncle, leaned against him and kept silent company too. Not the cheerful homecoming Romi had been expecting by a long way. Finally they could decently excuse themselves to bathe and to rest. “Kei, are my things still here?” “‘Things’, nephew?” “My spare toilet kit—you know, my razor.” For some reason, Karik mumbled the last few words, his cheeks gone bright red. Romi stared in puzzlement at the sight, as Kei and Arman looked at each other and just grinned. “You can certainly borrow my razor if you can’t find yours,” Arman said, still smiling. What was so damn funny? “Any other items you think you might need, Karik?” Kei asked, a ghost of the cheerfulness Romi had seen in him before Andon, coming back to brighten his expression. “You know where everything is in the work room.”‘ “Shut up, Kei,” Karik muttered. “Come on, Romi. Bath.” “Karik, I’ll be gone early as usual in the morning,” Arman said as Karik dragged Romi up by the arm. “But, Romi, I would appreciate your coming to my office at the House when your business is over at the academy, so we can discuss your report.” “Yes, my lord.” Arman gave him an old-fashioned look, and Romi smiled wryly. “Sorry—it’s habit.” “Yes, I suppose it is. You can be as formal as you like when you come to see me, if that makes you happy. Run along, Karik—you both look like a good night’s sleep would do you the world of good.”
Karik stopped long enough to hug Kei tightly and whisper something to him, and then to kiss Pira’s cheek and thank her for the meal. Romi added his thanks more formally, and then he was hauled out of the room and shoved towards the bathing room. “Care to explain the joke?” Romi asked. “No, I don’t,” Karik muttered, sounding rather cross. Robes had been left out for them, and drying cloths. Romi only had a moment to register this, before the bathing room door slammed and Karik was in his arms. “Gods, just kiss me.” Romi obeyed, taking his time to savour the taste of Karik and the pleasure of privacy with him again, though it had only been a few hours since they were last alone. Karik was shaking slightly— Romi hardly blamed him. “Not what you were expecting?” “I’ve got to fix this. Kei looks like he’s aged twenty years. This is so much not like him, you have no idea. And I can’t imagine what Ma’s going through.” “You don’t think they might sort it out now you’re back? They’re both sensible people, after all.” Karik gave him a sidelong look. “Except when it comes to me—or each other. Pa’s caught in the middle—he loves them both.” He heaved a great sigh. “Maybe when he comes up here...oh, but he expects me to go back with him. I don’t want to go back if you’re leaving.” Romi kissed his forehead, and unlaced his shirt for him. “Tomorrow, Karik. Kei says he doesn’t expect me back on full duties for a month or two at the very least. We’ve got time—I’ve got at least a month and a half of leave due to me, and I daresay I could wangle a month more if I have to. Your uncle hasn’t released me from my secondment yet anyway.” “I know, but—” Romi touched his fingers to Karik’s lips. “Enough. It’s been a very long day, I’m tired, you’re tired. Now, come on—I’ve not had a proper Darshianese bath in nearly a year, and that’s much too long, if you ask me.” They scrubbed themselves clean, and Romi really appreciated the fine soap that Karik said Kei made himself—much better than the harsh stuff they had been making do with. His hair finally felt properly and perfectly clean, which was blissful. The bath water had been warming for over an hour, and was very hot—Romi half-expected Karik to prevent him using it and he prepared himself for a fight to enjoy this precious luxury, but Karik got into the tub without a word, and only waited for him to settle down before climbing into his lap. “Hello,” Romi said, amused by his easy attitude with him. “You act like you do this all the time.” “We’ve bathed together before, just not like this,” Karik pointed out, kissing his jaw, then sighing again, this time in pleasure. “Arman always said baths were the best thing next to Kei about coming to Darshian. Kei says he only ranks the bath second out of politeness.” “I’m sure that’s not true. He obviously loves Kei very much.” “Yes, he does.” Karik rested against him in a way Romi could easily get used to. He’d never bathed with Daiso—strange to think of that—but he’d been as tall as Romi and heavier. Holding Dai on his lap would have been very odd—but Karik felt perfect. “I can’t help thinking about what Pira said—
about losing them both. What if I’d died on that expedition? Look at the harm it would have caused. I don’t understand why.” “You’re an only child, and your uncles have none of their own either. That’s a lot of expectations bound up in one person.” “But I can’t behave as if I’m made of glass,” Karik said, leaning back to glare at him. “I have a job to do!” Romi stroked Karik’s face to soothe him, running his fingers along his beard and teasing the curls. “You of all people should understand the need to protect those you care about. I daresay if you’d been killed here in Darshian, with witnesses, and they’d known what happened, it might have been easier. But they were left with a cockeyed story, no one they could question, and no explanations. That didn’t help.” “But...every time I go collecting, will I have to worry about this?” “Yes,” Romi said bluntly. “I don’t see how you can’t. And don’t damn well ask me how you deal with it, because I have no idea.” It was hard to think at all rationally with Karik’s perfect bottom sitting right where it could do most...er...good. “Romi?” “Yes?” “We...uh...there’s a really good bed in the guest room,” Karik said in a rush, and then flushed pink. “Two of them.” “Ah. And what exactly was Kei expecting you to fetch from the work room?” Karik turned even redder. “Um...tidomumblemumble.” “What?” “Tido oil cream!” Romi grinned. “Ah. I usually use the oil itself. What’s the cream like?” “I have no idea.” “Oh? You’ve never tried it...in the spirit of scientific investigation?” It was absolutely fascinating, the way Karik’s skin reflected his mortifying embarrassment so readily. It was easily one of the most beguiling things about him. “Maybe...a couple of times.” “We all do it, you know.” He was still looking hideously embarrassed. Romi kissed him again. “We have plenty of time,” he said gently. “The bed will be there for a while yet.” There was something he had to bring up—and he didn’t know if there would ever be a good time to do so. “Kei asked me about the attack.” Karik jumped a little. “So did Arman—I put him off.” “Yes—but Kei knows. Jou told him, thinking you were dead.” Karik climbed off his lap and moved to the other side of the tub, wrapping his arms around himself. “Do I have any privacy left?”
“Arman doesn’t know. Kei didn’t tell him. But he wants you to. One of us to, anyway. He wants Arman to stop Soza hurting someone else.” “He can’t,” Karik said dully. “How can he? No proof.” “Actually, there are a number of ways I could pursue this if I was back south.” Romi didn’t want to go into the details just now—not with Karik looking so distressed. “But Arman can’t investigate a crime he doesn’t know about, nor can the army.” He reached over and took Karik’s hand. “It really needs you to be brave once more. I know it’ll hurt. But it’ll hurt anyway.” “Easy for you to say,” Karik snapped, hunching over himself. Romi tugged him close and made Karik rest against him again, waiting for him to work it through. What a damn horrible homecoming this was turning out to be. He stroked Karik’s back, careful to keep it as non-sexual as he could. He really wasn’t used to having to do this, not with a naked, handsome lover, but even with the discussion about the cream, he doubted Karik was really ready to make love—there had been too much proof of that on the boat. Oh, how he wanted to do an injury to Soza for the harm he had done to so many people, Karik most of all. It might not be right, but it would be very satisfying. Gradually Karik uncurled, and Romi recognised the signs of him being lost in deep thought. He let him be, continuing the gently stroking which gave him as much comfort as it did Karik. But finally, he wrapped his arms around Karik and sighed. “I’m tired. Let’s just go to bed.” Karik struggled out of his arms and then climbed out of the bath. “What did Kei say about your heart?” “He thinks there’s no permanent damage, and that I just need time to recover. I should be back on duty in three months.” Karik only nodded again, but his sudden stricken look told Romi this wasn’t unalloyed good news. What a mess. It almost made him long for when it had just been the four of them walking to safety in Andon. Trying to survive was somehow a lot simpler than getting back to their nice safe existence.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Staying Power: 45 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Both the beds, as promised, looked very comfortable. Karik explained that over the years, Kei and Arman had a near constant stream of guests, and had thought it worth the investment. “Is this where you live when you’re in Darshek?” Romi asked. “Of course. I could stay with Seiki and Mila, but Kei would kill me.” Karik was dithering, Romi realised—taking his time hanging up the robes, straightening up their things Pira had laid out on the other bed. Romi came up behind him—slowly, since it was never good to startle Karik from behind these days—and wrapped his arms around him. “Come to bed,” he whispered into Karik’s ear, and tugged him over to it. He lay down, but Karik just sat perched on the edge, looking ill at ease, though the fact they were both naked might have something to do with that. “What’s wrong?” “I.... Can I touch you?” It was the last thing Romi was expecting him to say, but all he did was light a few more fire sprites to make the room brighter, put his hands behind his head, and lie back. “Be my guest.” Karik moved a little closer. Romi wasn’t sure what he was planning, but he wouldn’t put him off— he’d had a little fantasy going for a while now, about what Karik’s skilled and slender fingers would feel like on his skin, and he was curious to know if reality would match that fantasy. Karik laid his hand over Romi’s left pectoral. “Not squishy,” he said, grinning suddenly. “No squish left at all on me,” Romi said, smiling back. “Or you.” “Pira will sort that out.” He ran his finger down the middle of Romi’s chest and down his belly, and then, charmingly, he bent and kissed Romi’s stomach, which made him shiver. “You taste good,” he said, his lips still against Romi’s skin. “Gods, Karik.” Romi’s cock couldn’t help but respond to the delicate touch, and the heat in the whispered words. He didn’t know what to say—he could hardly stop his body’s natural behaviour, but how would Karik react? Karik just turned his head and looked at his erection as if it was an interesting new plant. Romi felt himself blushing—even though he really wasn’t one for blushing. “It’s bigger than mine,” Karik said, in a perfectly conversational tone, as if he was describing a mug of tea. Romi felt himself getting even hotter. No lover of his had ever subjected him to this, and he didn’t know whether he liked it at all—but there was also something amazingly arousing in being examined so carefully. He could feel Karik’s breath on the tip of his cock as he came in for a closer look. “It’s beautiful,” Karik whispered, running his fingers lightly down the length of it, and making Romi almost
scream for him to touch it properly. Karik turned to look at him, an impish glint in his eyes. “There really isn’t anything I won’t put in my mouth, you know.” “Karik....” Gods, was that his voice, so strangled-sounding? “Do you have any idea...?” “No—but can I try?” Romi’s fingers clenched behind his head. “Yes,” he said through gritted teeth. Just get on with it, he wanted to shout, but then he nearly leapt off the bed as the top of his cock was enveloped in wet, wonderful heat. Oh gods! Karik really had no idea what he was doing. Romi couldn’t have cared less—this was so far from what he was expecting, and so much more than he thought Karik would do. He brought his hands down so he could stroke that soft, soft hair, gleaming gold in the firelight, as Karik licked and sucked in an endearingly enthusiastic way, teasing him unbearably and making his balls tighten into hard little stones—it had been a damn long time since he’d last come, and he needed to, oh he needed to, spill into that pretty mouth, and he needed it now. But Karik didn’t know how to bring him off, and after a few minutes of wonderful but frustrating sensation, he stopped and looked up. “I’m doing it wrong?” Romi sat up, and pulled Karik into his arms, sitting him next to him. “Use your hand,” he said, trying not to sound as desperate as he felt. “You know how to do that, right?” Karik nodded, and with rather more assurance, wrapped his hand around Romi’s cock. Romi sighed—so good. “Please...oh, please, Karik....” He made Karik turn his head so he could kiss him, tongue sliding between those perfect lips and tasting himself on them. And all the while, Karik’s hand moved up and down with precise, measured movements, bringing him closer and closer to release until his body was just one big nerve, all a-jangle. Far too soon he jerked with the sudden intense pleasure of his climax, almost too much after being deprived for so long, gasping into Karik’s mouth, his vision narrowed to a pair of wide green eyes and golden brows. He vaguely realised he was being petted, and as he came back to himself, he saw Karik looking a little worried. He hugged Karik close, making him squeak a little, and crushed his mouth on Karik’s lips, Karik’s eager tongue ready to explore and tasting so warm and welcome. “Gods, I love you,” Romi murmured, rubbing his cheek against Karik’s beard. “Was that all right?” “Absolutely perfect.” Karik smiled against his skin. “Beautiful man.” “Huh?” “That’s what Wepizi called you—‘beautiful man’. And you are.” He leaned back, and gave Karik a chaste kiss on his forehead. “Are you all right?” There were no signs of distress, for which he was very thankful. “Yes. But I wish I knew how to....” “Use your mouth?” Karik nodded. “Want me to show you?” Karik’s sudden flush was the answer he needed. He pushed Karik gently down to the bed, and finding he was guarding a hand sticky with
Romi’s own come, he lifted it to his mouth and licked the fingers clean, which made Karik smile, and his eyes get even bigger. He spent a few moments nibbling on the slender fingers and making Karik smile wider. “Like that? Sensitive hands. Are you ticklish?” “Yes, but if you use that information, I’ll set Arman on you.” “Your secret is safe with me,” Romi declared solemnly. He bent and kissed the horrible scar on Karik’s stomach, licking the skin that was smooth in a different way from the rest of it. “Does it hurt?” “Not any more. Hurt like all hells at the time.” “I bet.” He stroked it a little, then made more sweeping motions across the fine, pale skin, first with his hand, and then with his tongue, leaving wet swathes on which he blew, making Karik shiver. He leaned in, kissed one small pink nipple, and heard a sound that was probably a giggle. Sensitive there too—he filed that information away for another time. Right now, he was interested in another part of Karik’s elegant anatomy which was equally interested in him. It would have been so easy to just sweep Karik along in the desire that made his own body thrum with need, a need hardly sated at all by his climax, but this was Karik’s very first time. A little delicacy, a little polite discretion was needed. Or so he assumed—he’d never bedded a virgin, and his own first time had been with a much older man who had not been very considerate but who’d been a damn fine fuck for all that. Karik was a completely different proposition, and it needed careful thought if he wasn’t to think his lover a complete boor. First, a kiss—never could go wrong kissing this man—and Karik might not know much about lovemaking, but he had the whole rubbing himself up and down Romi’s body in the most maddening manner down pat. “You keep doing that,” Romi growled, pushing him down, “and my mouth won’t get a look in.” Karik stared at him, cross-eyed with lust, and a little annoyed. “But if you’re enjoying yourself, go right ahead.” “Oh.” Karik lay back, his body tense with the effort of not wriggling. “Please? Kei says it’s really good, and I want to know what it’s like.” Romi ruefully shook his head—damn scientists. Too much thinking and not enough feeling. Body stiff as a board, and hands clenched, Karik was a picture of suppressed impatience, his cock quivering with need. Romi kissed Karik’s lips again, then slowly worked his way down the finely made body. Really, there was nothing to him, but what there was, was perfect and firm and warm. Karik surged up against him, eager and wanting, but Romi held him down, firmly but gently, not wanting to reawaken painful half-memories, as he brought his mouth close to the tip of Karik’s beautiful cock and breathed on it. Karik moaned, his hands coming to Romi’s shoulders and grabbing tight. He’d have bruises—he didn’t give a damn. One hand under Karik’s balls, rolling gently, looking to see if this was something he liked...oh yes, it was...and then he took Karik’s erection into his mouth, carefully sucking. Karik arched, his grip becoming excruciating—a lot of deceptive strength in this man, Romi thought with a wince—as he gasped out something incoherent. Could have been a plea, could have been a curse, but Romi didn’t get the impression Karik wanted him to stop. Gods, he loved doing this
to a responsive lover—nothing worse than a lover just lying there like it was their right—and Karik was very, very responsive. Any more responsive and Romi would have been thrown clear across the room. This had to be perfect. It had to be the best thing Romi had ever done for a lover—it had to fry Karik’s brain. Concentrate, he told himself. Forget everything, even forget him—just think about this beautiful erection, the taste, the velvety feel, the warm heavy weight of Karik’s balls in one hand, and the firm, silky length of his cock in the other, the clean smell of Karik’s freshly bathed body, the heat of his lust rising, flushing the pale skin of his stomach and under the astonishing golden curls. Ignore the way Karik bucked, the soft stream of moans, the insistent grip on Romi’s shoulders, the way Karik’s strongly muscled thigh ground hard against Romi’s groin, arousing, demanding, insistent. As deprived and needy as Romi himself, it was hardly any time at all before Karik came with a strangled cry, quickly muffled, and he released Romi’s shoulders. As Romi licked the softening cock a little longer, he looked up, and saw Karik had his wrist over his mouth as if he was distressed and trying to hide it. He quickly sat up, and brought Karik into his arms. “You all right?” Karik nodded, but continued to hide his mouth. Not sure what was going on, Romi held him and stroked him, feeling the hot flush fade slowly from the lean, gently trembling body. “Gods,” Karik whispered, still muffling his mouth. “Is that a good ‘gods’ or a bad ‘gods’?” Karik looked at him, eyes bright, and once he moved his arm, Romi was relieved more than he could say to see he was smiling. “That was a very good ‘gods’. Kei was right.” “Well, I wouldn’t want to contradict such an impressive authority.” Romi grinned and kissed him, and was amused to find his little scientist couldn’t resist finding out if he could taste himself in Romi’s mouth. Karik looked completely relaxed and happy, so much better than Romi would have predicted. Was that because he hadn’t triggered any unhappy memories or because the experience had just overwhelmed them? Romi didn’t know and wouldn’t ask. Whatever worked, was his motto when it came to sex. Karik was boneless and smiling, and lay back without any complaint when Romi urged him to. A little bit of manoeuvring under the covers, and then they were comfortable and warm, as free from tension as Romi had been since Daiso still wanted him. Romi wished he could stop comparing this situation with then, but Karik wasn’t suffering for it—not in the least. Now Romi had had a taste of him, he didn’t know how he would ever let him go—but this wasn’t the time to think about that. They kissed some more, and snuggled close. Romi would have been happy to go for it all over again, but his stamina was always an uncertain thing these days, and Karik’s easy mood couldn’t be guaranteed to last, so he decided it was best to savour what they had. And it was good, it really was, to have a warm, cuddly lover who liked everything they’d tried and who was still smiling happily. Gods, it was marvellous to see him smiling without any trace of the lurking shadows.
At last, reluctantly, he doused the fire sprites and plunged them into darkness. “Feeling all right?” he whispered against Karik’s neck. “Is it always that wonderful?” “Oh no. Sometimes it’s even better.” “Oh!” Romi grinned in the dark, as Karik snuggled closer, then lay quietly against him. Romi felt himself starting to drift. It had been a long, trying day, and he was really tired now. Karik’s breathing was still a little fast, but he had a lot to absorb, Romi guessed. He was on the verge of unconsciousness when he heard his name whispered. “Uh?” “I’m going to tell Arman.” “Tell him...?” His foggy brain put the pieces together. “Oh.” “I’ll probably puke or something,” Karik added, sounding much less happy than he had a few minutes before. “But you’re right, he needs to know.” Romi sighed and kissed his cheek. “I’ve a better idea. Let me do it. I know as much about it as you, and it’s my job to report crimes. If he needs to know more, then he can ask you. But I doubt he will.” “But—” “Please? This is hard enough for you. Let me do this much, at least.” “I’m so pathetic.” “No, love, you’re not. You’re my beautiful man, and you’re as brave as they come.” Karik was silent for a few moments. Then—“‘Love’?” “Do you mind?” “No...it’s just Pa calls Ma that. I guess this is real, then.” “As real as I can make it. Don’t fret any more tonight. Please? Just sleep, and we can deal with the rest of it tomorrow.” “All right. Love you, Romi.” “Me too. Night, love.” He felt Karik smile against his cheek. Such a small thing to make him happy. If only the rest of it was so easy.
~~~~~~~~ They slept so long that bright sunlight was streaming into the bedroom when they woke, and as they stumbled, yawning, into the kitchen, Pira told them they had missed both their hosts—Arman to the House, Kei to visit some friends whose daughter was ill. “He’ll be back this afternoon,” she said, putting hot cakes in front of them—Romi had really missed hot cakes on the long march and these smelled wonderful. “But he said for you to do as you
wish, and not to worry about him.” Karik glanced at Romi then and he didn’t need to be a mindspeaker to know what he was thinking—Karik not worrying about his beloved uncle was as likely as him forgetting how to breathe. The new day had not brought any obvious answers, unfortunately. To Pira’s delight, they both ate an enormous breakfast, but Romi was mindful of Kei’s words about not allowing himself to run to fat. It was too easily done, and when Karik suggested they hitch a lift to the academy, Romi insisted instead that they walk. “We can take it slow, but I need to get fit.” Karik looked at him sternly. “All right, but I’ll be cross if you wear yourself out,” he said, wagging his finger at him. “I see he has you well in hand,” Pira said, beaming at them both. Romi resisted the temptation to scowl at her. Karik was just being Karik. “I have to go to the barracks. Do you want to visit your friends while I’m busy with Arman and doing that?” “I’d love them to meet you—but it’s better if I go alone,” Karik said. “They need to be the ones to invite you.” “I understand, and they’ll want time with you, no doubt.” Karik’s unhappy frown told him he would rather be spending time with him but they each had their own affairs to take care of. They couldn’t be joined at the hip forever if their relationship was to be a healthy one. It was a very easy, pleasant stroll along Darshek’s graceful harbour path, and after months of freezing his balls off, it was pure relief to be unburdened by heavy clothing and the painful shortness of breath which had plagued him for weeks but which had finally gone. He wasn’t up to anything arduous, but this gentle pace wouldn’t tax an eighty-year-old. He felt the warm sea breeze doing him good and he just knew he was on his way to a full recovery. It had been so long since he’d done something like this, and it was sweet, only—what then? Karik was obviously wondering something along those lines himself, because he was very quiet as they walked together, hand in hand. Karik’s arrival at the academy caused quite a stir, and it was a good half hour before he managed to extract himself from astonished friends and well-wishers to ask for the senior healer to whom Kei had entrusted Romi’s care. He remembered the man now—the Prijian healer who’d helped Karik explain the intricacies of medicine creation in the academy garden what seemed a lifetime ago. Master Pitis also had to spend several minutes exclaiming over the miracle of Karik’s reappearance, but once they were alone in his office, he was completely professional. He didn’t spend as much time examining Romi as Kei had, but he read Kei’s note, and closely questioned the pair of them about the symptoms of the marsh bug bite, as well as Karik’s treatment. He became tremendously excited about Karik’s gezin root samples. “My word—this could be a marvellous drug for people with heart problems. You roasted it, you say?” “Yes. I have no idea whether that was necessary, but I had to go with what we knew. I was pretty desperate by that point,” he said, squeezing Romi’s hand.
“Of course, of course. Well, I concur with Master Kei that the damage is most likely not permanent, but a careful regime will need to be set out. I will put my assistants on it immediately, and prepare instructions. Gradual increases in activity and arduousness rather than sudden bursts, yes, lieutenant?” Romi nodded. “Good—and we will want to monitor you, of course. Karik, I’ve been working hard on your collected material, though without Master Kei to guide us, I fear we are very much behind.” “Master Pitis, can he come back if he changes his mind?” Pitis looked suddenly shifty, and lowered his voice. “You mustn’t tell him,” he said quietly. “But the Rulers haven’t declared the position vacant. So far as anyone knows, he’s on leave. He could come back tomorrow, and by all the gods, I wish he would.” “So do I,” Karik said with feeling. “I’ll try and talk him into it. It’s just wrong that someone like him should stop. He’s a genius.” “He’s our heart and soul,” Pitis declared. “People here are lost without him, and I miss him terribly.” “We have to get him back. Darshian needs him.” “So it does,” Pitis said, stroking his chin thoughtfully. “Ah—one thing. I had so hoped we would have material from Mount Arzha but it seems other arrangements were made?” “No, they weren’t,” Karik snapped, anger glinting in his eyes as he glanced at Romi. “You’ll have that material, I promise.” Pitis looked a little taken aback at Karik’s fierceness. “Ah...then, I look forward to it. Now, I think we’re done, lieutenant. I’ll make sure you have instructions by tomorrow—please come to collect them or have them collected. I will wish to see you every week to judge your improvement, but while you’re at Master Kei’s house, he’ll ensure you don’t overdo things. Please, Karik, do give your uncle my kind regards and tell him he is much missed.” They shook hands with him, and then went downstairs to the foyer. “Now you’re not to walk to the barracks,” Karik said sternly. “And Tiko will make sure you know the way back.” “Yes, Ma. Stop nagging me—I’m not at death’s door, you know.” “Not for want of trying.” But then he smiled and leaned in for a kiss. “See you back at the house later? If you need anything, ‘call’ for Neka or Seiki. They’ll hear you.” “Er...all right.” Romi had never used the services of a Gifted mindspeaker before, but Karik seemed to think it was all very simple and he wouldn’t admit his ignorance. “Take your time—they’ll want to hear all your news.” “Next time, I want you to come with me. And I’ll find out when we can visit Mila and Seiki so I can introduce you to Jes.” “Of course.” He kissed Karik again, won a sweet smile, and then waved him off. He straightened his shirt, made sure his braid wasn’t fraying, then set off across the square to the House of the Rulers.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Staying Power: 46 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ He was directed to Arman’s office immediately, and a tea tray brought just moments after Romi was asked to sit. The Ruler himself served the drinks, which made Romi very uncomfortable—he’d had no contact with a Ruler before this, and he had no idea what they were supposed to be like, but he suspected they weren’t usually this informal. But once they had tea and pastries before them, Arman was all business. “Interesting report, lieutenant. Very precise. I’ll come to the personal aspects in a moment, but I take it your opinion is that such a mission needs to be handled differently in future?” “Yes, my lord. We tried to accomplish too much, and it took too long. Andon needs systematic surveying by dedicated teams with bases in the country, not people trying to do it from Darshek.” “But the Andonese don’t have the personnel.” “No, my lord, nor the funds, according to Lep Wepizi. However, that’s the only way this is sustainable.” Arman grunted and checked something in his notes. “And how would you assess your performance, lieutenant? Do you feel you carried out your task satisfactorily?” “No, my lord. There were many failures, and I would say most of them were mine.” Arman lifted one fine eyebrow at him. “Really? Care to elaborate?” “The worst was that there was a failure of discipline from the start. I didn’t impose my authority quickly enough upon our civilian members, and that led to severe problems later on.” “You mean on Soza? Or Karik as well?” Romi did the man the compliment of not playing to his sensibilities. “On both. Karik accepted my authority when I requested it and behaved as a good team member should, but that was pure luck. Soza would not accept my command and I didn’t force the issue when I should have done. I should really have left him behind in Tsikiugui—that’s how serious it was.” “I see. So mixing civilian and military personnel was a failure on my part?” “No, my lord, that’s not what I’m saying—I’m saying that I failed. I ended up with injured people and injuries myself because of this.” “I see. Interesting that your soldiers had nothing but the highest praise for you, and would, each of them I spoke to, work under you again at the first request.” “That’s kind, my lord. It doesn’t negate my report.” “Hmmm. And the landslide? You’re sure this was deliberate? What was Kizinke’s motive? You don’t say in this,” he said, tapping the notebook.
“As for the motive, it could be several things—wounded pride, perhaps jealousy. I really have no idea, so I didn’t speculate,” he said with a shrug. “Kizinke also represents a failure of authority.” “I think,” Arman said dryly, “you give yourself too much credit. If this man was determined to be homicidal, I fail to see how you could have stopped him.” “Perhaps not, my lord. I just felt responsible.” “It’s unbecoming to assume unreasonable guilt, you know.” But then Arman winced, and Romi guessed what he was thinking about. “I ought to have you on a charge, though—you’ve deliberately falsified your report.” The man was frowning at him now with all the severity his cold, aristocratic features could produce. “My lord?” “Karik—the attack. No mention of it in any of your notes. Why?” Romi looked at him steadily. “You know perfectly well why, my lord.” Arman let out a brief laugh. “Not easily intimidated, are you? Very well—to protect Karik’s privacy. But damn it, Romi—an attack on any team member is something you should have mentioned. It was a serious matter.” “I am aware of that, my lord, but there were other considerations which made it imperative that I present the information in person, not in writing. Karik wasn’t just attacked.” Arman went very still. “He was sexually assaulted—raped. By Soza.” “By all the gods!” Unable to contain his feelings, the Ruler got up, paced over to the window and stared out at it, then turned back to Romi. “Are you sure?” “That he was raped, certainly. That it was Soza, there seems little doubt.” He described the known facts of the attack and set out their reasoning as Arman’s expression grew ever colder. When he was done, the Ruler resumed his stare out of the window, his thoughts unguessable. Romi could only wait for him to finish his deliberations. At last Arman turned. “Karik knows you’re telling me this?” Romi nodded. “Thoughts about pursuing it? Because I will and, I imagine, so will you.” “Yes, I will. The problem is two fold—Karik’s amnesia, and his reluctance for this to come to court. Though I believe now he will give evidence, for what it’s worth.” “Not a lot,” Arman said curtly. “A lawyer would not be able to place much weight on his testimony.” “Not of the attack itself, no. But Soza can’t get away with this.” “He damn well won’t. Leave it with me for now—I need to speak to my counterparts in Urshek, and to Kei. This will need some delicate footwork.” “As you wish, my lord. Karik, uh, is still very distraught about the whole thing, so he finds it very hard to talk about.”
“I’m sure. I won’t mention it to him just yet.” He gave Romi a shrewd look. “But Kei knows, doesn’t he?” Romi wondered how he’d guessed that—he could imagine Kei could be very discreet when he wanted to be. “Yes, my lord. He was trying to preserve Karik’s privacy too.” Arman shook his head. “So damn careful of everyone else, but not a care for himself. It’s been the most bloody time, I can tell you, though it’s not been a stroll along the harbour for you, I know.” You don’t know the half of it. “The false report is something we both regret.” “Yes, I know—no one blames any of you. Now—you’re fit in three months. Then what? Back to Temshek?” “Yes, my lord. That’s my barracks.” Arman grunted. “As if they know what to do with someone like you. Do you really mean to bury yourself in that provincial backwater forever?” “Unless I want to move to Urshek, which I don’t, provincial is pretty much all that’s on offer.” Arman’s blue gaze became even more penetrating. “And Karik?” “I don’t know what to do about that, my lord. But he has an important job to do here, and I have a position in Temshek. He knows I don’t want to sacrifice my career for love, and I refuse to allow him to. We’re still talking about it.” Arman nodded. “I understand the issues, and of course it’s a private matter so I won’t interfere. But Temshek.... Such a waste, with your skills and experience, though the army needs good officers, and who knows, you could end up like Lord Jiv.” “Begging your pardon, my lord, but not on your life.” Arman laughed. “I see. No love of bureaucracy?” “Not even slightly. I like to be out in the open air.” “Yes, so do I,” he said, sighing a little. “Very well. Let’s go over this more carefully, and then you and I can have lunch while I pick your brains. I’ll arrange a carriage for you to go to the barracks. Can’t have you dropping dead of a heart attack, now, can we?” “I’d really prefer not to, my lord.”
~~~~~~~~ “There you go, Karik,” Reis said cheerfully, setting him down on the path. “Come in for a bit?” Reis frowned. “No, better not. But will you tell Kei we miss him?” “Of course.” Karik hadn’t realised Kei’s self-imposed exile had extended to denying himself the company of his Gifted friends, and even that of Seiki and Mila and his darling Jes. Karik’s appearance
at the house of the Gifted had almost caused a riot—even with the warning they’d had—because they all wanted to know how Kei was. “I think he might get better in time, Reis. You know how hard it is for soul-touchers when there’s death and grief around.” “I know,” Reis said sadly. “But it wasn’t his fault, even if you had died. I’m very cross with your Ma. I told you that, didn’t I?” “You might have mentioned it once or twice, yes.” Neka had told him that Reis had had to be physically restrained from flying all the way to Ai-Albon to deliver a personal scolding to Karik’s mother, a deed which would have made things even more poisonous than they were now. There was no doubt the Gifted felt very uncomfortable with two of their dearest friends being at such odds with each other, and Karik, too, felt caught in the middle. He hadn’t really known what to say—thankfully, Neka had steered things around to what he’d done on the expedition, and that had distracted Reis and the others. “Well, I’m saying it again. Now, you bring your big bad soldier to visit soon or I’ll come and kidnap you both!” “Big bad...? Reis!” Reis assumed an innocent expression, but spoiled it with a grin. “That’s what Kei called him. He said he just knew you two would get close.” “Oh, did he now. Anyway, yes, I’ll bring Romi over in a couple of days. I don’t want to scare him off.” “Oh, I don’t think he scares easily, not from what you told us.” Reis gave him a quick hug. “Please give that to Kei for me. We love him, Karik. Please help him get well?” “I will. See you in a day or two.” He waited until his friend rose gracefully into the air and flew away, high above the rooftops where no one would think to look up and wonder at the sight, then went into the house. All was quiet— Pira must be out. No one in the sitting room either, but the smell of herbs being distilled drew him to the workroom, where he found Kei with a bubbling pot next to him on a table stove, busily making notes. He went straight to his uncle and gave him a tight hug. “That’s from Reis and the others—they said to tell you they miss you.” “Oh.” Kei’s smile was a ghostly thing. “I miss them too. I just couldn’t face them—everyone.... It was like being hammered with nail-imbedded clubs, feeling their pain. It was just too much.” Karik sat down on the stool next to him. “I understand. But now? Will you call on them?” “Perhaps.” Karik nearly sighed with frustration. “Well, Mila and Seiki have invited the five of us to dinner tomorrow. I hope you won’t back out of that. I can’t believe how big Jes is—and she’s talking so much!” “She’s a real chatterbox, that’s for sure.” He scribbled something in his book, then closed it. “Yes, I’ll go. It seems foolish not to.” But he hardly looked enthusiastic. “And what did Master Pitis say?”
“That you should come back to the academy.” Kei shook his head. “No, about Romi.” “Same as you. He’s very excited about the gezin root—do you think it could treat people like Lord Meki?” “I was certainly wondering if it could. Pitis will have to handle that, of course.” “He says they can’t manage without you.” Karik folded his arms. “All that work to get you specimens, and now you’re not interested.” “Karik, please don’t push.” Kei’s eyes were full of pain. “Let’s stop talking about me. Romi’s a very good man. I’m so happy for you both.” “Huh, I’ve a bone to pick with you about that, uncle—‘big bad soldier’?” Kei actually grinned. “Oh dear, someone’s been telling.” “Someone’s been gossiping. But he’s a very good man. He was so kind to me.” “After Visiqe?” Karik nodded—there was no point in hiding things from Kei. “Do you want to tell me what happened?” “If I knew, that would be half the problem solved. I can’t remember. I just have these awful dreams, and sometimes images...well, more bursts of feeling...just ambush me. Romi keeps setting them off—it’s driving me insane.” Kei put his hand on Karik’s arm. “Flashbacks are like that. I’m afraid you might have to get used to them—but if my own experience is anything to go by, you do get used to them.” “But...what about Romi and me? Will it always be between us?” Kei raised an eyebrow and smiled. “I don’t think it was between you last night, was it?” Karik’s face grew instantly hot. “You knew?” “Of course—how could I not? It was so lovely to feel,” he said with a sigh. “Such happiness and love from you both. It warmed me through.” Then Karik stopped being embarrassed, glad to have brought a little joy to his beloved uncle. “Did your memories cause a problem at all?” “Not for a moment—it was wonderful. But...what if next time...?” Kei squeezed his arm. “Then you wait until it passes, Karik. And you trust Romi to wait with you —he will, I’m sure of it.” Karik was, too, but then that reminded him of the other huge problem in his life. “But he’s going back to the south. Ma and Pa would kill me if I went with him, even if I had a place to go—I can’t work at the academy, not with....” He stopped, but from Kei’s expression, his uncle understood. “Arman will deal with Soza, Karik. Once Master Jezinke gets his report, I doubt Soza will have a position there any longer.” “But we don’t have any proof.”
“We have enough,” Kei said grimly. “The theft of the specimens and the other falsehoods he told us—gods, the lies he put in his reports, you have no idea—will be all Jezinke needs. Pitis will deal with that side of things.” “You should be dealing with it. Pitis doesn’t handle people, you know that.” Kei frowned at him. “Nephew, you’re as stubborn as an urs beast.” Karik felt his temper rising. “Look who’s talking,” he retorted. “Why did you give up your job?” “Because I got you killed, or so I thought. I’d caused four deaths, needless deaths, and harm to others.” Kei got up and moved away, turned off the little stove and covered the pot. “I thought you of all people would understand.” “All I understand is that if I’d died, it would have been for nothing. My sacrifice would have meant nothing. And all the work we’d done would have been thrown away.” “Karik—” “No, let me finish.” At the back of Karik’s mind, he was horrified at speaking to his uncle this way, but his dander was up. “Romi blames himself for Soza, Arman blames himself, you blame yourself, and I blame myself. But the only person who’s really done anything wrong is him. No one knew he wasn’t just incompetent, Kei. No one.” He fixed his uncle with a fierce glare. “It’s really arrogant of you to think you’re supposed to be infallible.” Kei’s hands fluttered helplessly. “But he...assaulted you.” “He could have raped me in Urshek. For all I know, if I’d stayed, he would have. Do you really think you made me do something I didn’t want to do with my whole heart? Something I would do again, even knowing all I do now?” That statement surprised Kei. “But...Karik, you let yourself be persuaded by me.” Karik let out a derisive snort. “Uncle, I’m not sixteen any more. Ask Romi how ‘persuadable’ I am. We clashed non-stop for the first few months. No one makes me do what I don’t want to do. I listen, I make my own mind up, and that’s that.” “I can’t,” Kei murmured. “I can’t...I owe it to your mother.” “Ma’s wrong. Wrong and cruel in this. I’ll tell her that too.” “No, you can’t...she was hurt so terribly badly. No, I can’t let you hurt her. Please.” Karik got up and went to Kei, pulled him into a hug—his uncle was shaking like a leaf. “Don’t cry, please don’t cry.” Gods, Kei was so brittle now—the least thing set him off. “I can’t believe she would use my death as an excuse like this.” “She spoke from the heart, a heart which had been broken. I knew how she felt,” Kei said bleakly, pushing Karik away and rubbing at his reddened eyes. “I took the most precious thing in her world and killed it. Her son—the son I wished I’d had. The son I might have had,” he added softly. “Oh, Kei.” Karik felt his own eyes tearing up. “After Ma and Pa, you’re the most important person in the world to me.”
“Romi is, you mean,” Kei said with a painful smile. “No, you. Romi knows his place.” He saw his uncle draw breath to argue. “Stop telling me what to think, damn it.” “I just—” “Kei!” “All right.” Kei let Karik guide him to a stool, and accepted his handkerchief to wipe his face with. “I’m sorry. I know you want this to be fixed, but I can’t...think about it just now.” “I know,” Karik said, hugging him again and letting Kei feel his affection and concern, hoping it would offer a little comfort. “I just want you to do the job you love and I want to keep working for you. We make a good team.” “We did.” The past tense did nothing to reassure Karik, but he hoped a few seeds had been planted in Kei’s stubborn brain. They sat like that for a minute or two, but then Karik heard footsteps. “Hello?” They both turned at the sound of another voice. “Am I interrupting?” “No, Romi, come in,” Kei said, gently pushing Karik away and standing up. “How did you get on with Arman?” Karik went to Romi’s side and put his arm around his waist, still new enough to this whole thing to find it a thrill to be allowed to do so. Romi looked weary, fine lines more pronounced around his eyes, but he didn’t seem ill. “Fine—we had an interesting discussion about Andon over lunch. He has big ideas.” “That’s Arman for you,” Kei said with a smile that went nowhere near his eyes. “Now, Karik, you go and be a good host and make him some tea. I’ll be out in a minute, and Pira should be home anytime now. Shoo, go on.” Karik had little choice but to obey, following Romi out to the kitchen. “Please tell me you didn’t walk from the barracks.” “No, Ma, I was given a lift both ways. Treated like a Ruler. What’s up with Kei?” Karik waited until he got his kiss, then went to fill the kettle from the cistern tap. “I was trying to persuade him to go back to work. I wasn’t getting very far.” “It’s only been a day. Everyone’s still in shock. Tiko kept saying ‘I can’t believe it’ every five minutes—got a bit tiresome, but I guess I know why he’s like that.” Karik shook his head at his own impatience—Romi was right of course. “I just want to fix it all.” “I know. Come here.” Karik obeyed, and got a hug for his effort. “Give them time. I was talking to Arman about this—it’s not a simple situation.” Karik tried to free himself, and when Romi persisted in holding him, he gave his lover a glare. “I’m getting a bit fed up with people assuming I’m either half-witted or an infant. I’ve known Kei all my life—I know exactly how not simple this is!”
Romi raised his hands in surrender. “Sorry—forgive me?” Well, how could he not? He even graciously allowed Romi to bestow another toe-curling kiss on him, before realising he needed to put the water on to boil. He turned to do that—Romi grabbed his arm playfully, something he’d done dozens of times. But this time, the simple gesture tipped Karik straight into a nightmare—one where he was held down and forced, and he couldn’t get free, and there was so much pain and fear.... He was blinded by his terror, frozen by the pain—trapped forever, trapped and helpless, waiting for the next— “Karik. Karik! Gods, Karik!” He was being shaken hard, painfully, and that gave him a rope with which to pull himself up from the dead, icy place into which he’d been plunged. With an enormous effort he opened his eyes. “I....” It wasn’t even a word that emerged. His teeth were actually chattering, he felt so cold. “Sit. I’ve got you.” Romi’s arms were tightly around him, pulling him down onto the bench chair. “I’m sorry, love,” he whispered. “Didn’t mean to grab you.” “Not you,” Karik muttered. He felt nauseated, cold sweat prickling on his forehead. How could such a simple thing make him fall apart like this? Kei came rushing in, eyes wide with worry. “What’s wrong? I felt...Karik? Are you all right?” “Flashback,” Romi said briefly, kissing Karik’s temple. “Kei? Hold him—I’ll get some water.” “Tea,” Kei amended, exchanging places with Romi and putting his arms tightly around Karik. “Something warm and sweet. What triggered it?” “Me,” Romi said, not giving Karik the chance to answer. “I was stupid and grabbed him.” “You weren’t stupid,” Karik said, almost shouting. He rubbed his arms hard—he was still so cold, cold as death, and it was as if he would never get warm. Kei took his hands to quiet him—Karik felt his fear ebbing away as his uncle held him, but didn’t protest the strain on Kei. Sometimes, you had to take what help you could get, he thought. “It was just something ordinary. It always is.” “Yes, I know,” Kei murmured. “Romi, it isn’t you, and it’s not anything Karik’s doing. I want to talk to both of you about this.” He waited until Romi made the tea, keeping a firm and comforting arm around Karik the whole time. Karik felt like a fool, but he always did after one of these damn things—at least Kei knew what it was like. Unless someone had had a flashback or panic attack, they just didn’t realise. “Now,” Kei said. “First of all, Romi—don’t blame yourself. That won’t help Karik and will make him feel worse for upsetting you.” Romi nodded. “And Karik, you already know this isn’t under your control, so apologising and getting embarrassed is pointless and makes Romi feel worse. Understand?” “Yes, but—” Kei held his hand up for Karik to shut up. “Wait, nephew. This problem isn’t going to go away just because you’ve fallen in love and had sex.”
Romi sat up very straight and gave Kei a startled look, which made Karik grin despite himself. “Soul-touchers,” he explained with a shrug. “Oh. I hadn’t realised.... Sorry, Kei.” Kei gave Romi a benevolent smile. “It’s all right, Romi, I’m quite used to it.” Karik hoped Romi understood—he’d explain later if he didn’t. “But back to my point—all the love in the world won’t stop these attacks. But time will make them easier, as I told you before. The first time I saw men fighting after...well, you know...I literally passed out cold. Now, I just feel sick and patch the fools up. It’s been only a few months, a few stressful months, and it seems you have already come a long way. There’s no miracle cure, but you can certainly survive.” He hugged Karik again. “How do you feel?” “You know that better than me,” Karik said, his usual response to the polite but pointless question. But he did feel a little easier. Not so cold for a start. “Romi? Do you understand?” “It’s what I’ve been saying to Karik since it happened, but I’m glad to have someone who knows confirm it. I’ve felt like a bumbling fool most of the time.” Karik gave him an admonishing look— Romi had been so kind to him. He was definitely not a fool. Kei agreed. “Not at all. Karik’s very fortunate—but then, so are you,” he said, teasingly, squeezing Karik a little. “Now, I’ve also found the best thing to do is just get back to normality as fast as I can after an attack—take my mind off it. So I promised Pira I’d start our supper, and you can help me.” Kei set them cleaning vegetables, and set out pots in his usual efficient way, keeping up a stream of chatter which, as time went on, was more naturally cheerful and made Karik feel like he was finally at home again. Romi kept close to Karik, leaning on him and smiling reassuringly, and Kei made sure to touch his shoulder or hand as he passed, giving Karik a little taste of peace as he did. Karik felt so loved and cared for—and he felt there really was hope that this nightmare would not dominate his life. He looked at Romi’s calm, intelligent features, and the wise and beloved ones of his uncle, and thought, yes—perhaps time and kindness would be enough to fix this. He would just have to have faith.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Staying Power: 47 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ When he had come home and found Karik comforting his distressed uncle, Romi had been afraid they were in for a re-run of the evening before. With Karik’s attack, he almost despaired of things ever returning to happy normality. He was surprised and relieved the situation calmed very quickly thanks to Kei’s honest efforts, and for the first time since he’d returned to Darshek, he stopped feeling like a slightly unwanted guest. He was now just part of the household—even, dare he say it, part of the family. Arman had been very friendly at lunch, charming and open in a way Romi suspected he rarely was with people outside his personal circle. It had been stimulating to talk to someone with such a sharp mind, someone who understood military concerns and Romi’s ambitions—he could be honest about them in a way he hesitated to be with Karik for fear of upsetting him. The only problem with that honesty was it had only sharpened his desire to get back to work, while at the same time, reminding him how much Karik mattered to Darshian. Arman was the academy’s firmest supporter, and even with Kei apparently retired, he was determined to make the institution a leading light through Periter. It had been a surprise to learn this. Romi had assumed it was Kei’s dream, not his lover’s, but Arman saw it as a matter of personal pride that the academy’s work should be of the finest standard possible. And Karik was an integral part of that. He said nothing of this to Karik as they bathed and went to bed. No playfulness tonight—Romi was tired, and Karik still subdued after the attack, though he was perfectly calm and relaxed as he lay in Romi’s arms, a sweet and welcome weight. Had any of his lovers fit him so well? Male or female? He couldn’t recall it—the difference surely had to be the love, he thought fondly, kissing Karik’s forehead as he snuggled close. “Romi, I want to confess something.” “And what terrible crime could you have committed since this morning, love?” Karik smiled against his chin, soft lips and prickly beard a curiously delicious sensation. “Never stop calling me that.” “I won’t. What have you done?” Karik sighed and rolled away. “You know how Kei was upset?” “Yes. He seemed better this evening, though.” “Yes, he was. But earlier...he was saying stuff, like it was all right for Ma to hurt him because she was more important to me than him, which is just ridiculous.” Karik paused, and Romi waited patiently for him to get it out. “You know he thinks of me almost as a son? He said it wasn’t enough he thought
he’d killed Ma’s child, but someone who might have been his own—I felt awful. I can’t bear all these people loving me so much that they can’t go on if I die.” “It’s a burden, certainly. Somehow you need to find the balance between your responsibility to them and to yourself, and not let them stifle you. In the end, they want you to be happy.” “I guess,” Karik said, sounding anything but. Romi stroked his arm. “So he said it was all right for your mother to be so angry and...?” “Anyway, I told him he was the most important person to me after Ma and Pa. And he said ‘what about Romi?’ And I said he was more important than you.” Karik rolled towards him. “I’m sorry. I just meant...he’s family, and you’re something.... Gods, I’m making this worse, aren’t I?” Romi found his hand and squeezed it. “I think you’re getting worked up over something that doesn’t matter. Of course Kei is more important to you. You’ve known him all your life—he’s your friend, your teacher, and your uncle. I’d think you were shallow if I suddenly replaced him in your affections.” He felt his lover relax minutely. “I do love you,” Karik said earnestly. “It’s just different from how I love him.” “I should hope so too. Kei’s a very handsome fellow—I’d be jealous as hells if you felt the same for him.” He didn’t need to light a fire sprite to know his lover was blushing. Karik punched him in the arm. “Ow, you little shit.” “I don’t feel that way towards him! He’s my uncle, Romi. He’s also twenty years older than me!” “So? He’s a fine-looking man. They both are. If Kei was unattached and interested, I’d go for it.” “This is a disgusting conversation,” Karik muttered. “He’s my uncle!” “He’s not my uncle.” He kissed Karik again. “So this was the horrible sin? All confessed now?” “You’re making fun of me, you bastard.” “Mmmm, yes, I do believe I am.” “I hate you sometimes.” “Too bad,” Romi said, grinning into the dark, and then pulled Karik into his arms. Gods, he loved the little snot.
~~~~~~~~ Karik planned to spend all day at the academy, where Romi would meet him at sunset to go to his friends’ house for supper. Romi had no reason to go all the way there and back, and since he had letters to write, he decided to stay at the house and do just that. Kei and Pira had gone early to the market, so he had the place to himself. He judged the kitchen the warmest and most pleasant place to work and collect his thoughts, so he set up with a generous supply of paper and ink from his hosts. He didn’t much care for letter writing—it was always hard to convey the emotion and wonder he’d felt at the
things he’d seen and experienced in simple words on a page—but it had to be done, and he’d never been one for shirking his duty. So to begin. First letter was to his parents, of course—that was only brief since he would go home as soon as he could manage it. They would have had the gifts he bought in Visiqe, and his letters, but there was too much to tell them now for a simple note. Any day now, they would get the good news. He felt a little homesick as he wrote to his Ma—it had been so damn long since he’d seen her—all of them really. He wanted to go home again. Karik was talking about maybe going to Ai-Albon and then on to the farm, but then that meant thinking about what happened next and he didn’t want to do that right now. Next note was to Jou, who would make sure Sibu got his message too. Tiko had had excellent news about Sibu—the surgery Kei had carried out to ease the tightness of the scarring had made her more mobile, and the scarring itself would improve a good deal over time, though nothing could replace the lost breast tissue. Kei had assured her she could continue as a medic if she wanted, but she had decided she would complete her healer training, earning a promotion and a more permanent barracks post. What had really pleased Romi was learning that her lover, upon hearing what had happened, had come immediately to Darshek to be with her, and plans to wed had been formed there and then. Things were turning out far better than Romi had dared hope for her. He was just writing a short, formal note to his colonel, confirming he’d be absent for another three months, when Kei and Pira returned, bearing fruit, meat and other stores. “Oh, he’s abandoned you? I’ll have to speak to him about the proper way to treat a lover,” Kei said in a mock-reproachful tone. “I thought you’d be down at the barracks today.” Romi got up to help them put the food away. “No need—I’m on sick leave for at least a month, and I can take my accumulated leave after that. I’ve got nothing to do for three months but get fat and spend my salary.” Kei smiled. “I dare say my nephew and Arman might find something for you to do. You’re going back to Ai-Vinri at some point?” “At some point, yes.” “Kei,” Pira said, interrupting them. “I wanted to take those quilo fruit to Kesa. Do you mind if I go now?” “No, Ma, you run along. Kesa will give you lunch and I can look after our friend here.” He kissed her cheek. “Give them all my love.” “Give it to them yourself when you see them. I’ll tell them that’ll be soon.” Kei smiled in reply, but it seemed rather strained. “Of course. Tell Kesa Karik will call on her soon too.” Pira left them alone, and between Kei and Romi, the stores were quickly dealt with, and water was put on for tea. “Who’s Kesa?” Romi asked.
“Oh—she and her husband are friends of ours. Prijian couple, such lovely people, and with four of the most polite children I’ve ever encountered. Vikis used to be one of Arman’s soldiers—and Kesa was Karik’s wet-nurse. She was utterly distraught over the news, of course.” He turned to fetch the kettle. “It really is a very strange sensation—we grieved so deeply, that even though Karik came home, it’s like we can’t stop grieving.” “A bruise perhaps? Just the injury healing? You’d know better than me, of course.” Kei smiled. “Oh, I doubt it. Just because I can sense the emotions doesn’t give me a special insight.” That, Romi thought, was self-deception on a grand scale, but didn’t say so. Kei made the tea and was happy to sit and talk to him, rather to Romi’s surprise. He seemed perfectly relaxed as he sipped his tea and asked Romi what he was doing, who he was writing to. He smiled at the mention of Sibu. “Such a lovely person. Both your ladies were—Jou reminds me of my sister.” The briefest shadow passed over his face, before he continued. “I was appalled to know how she and Reisa had been injured though. Soza should never have been on that mission. I honestly don’t know why I allowed Jezinke to insist on it.” “You couldn’t have known he’d be that culpably stupid—I saw him in the field, and I really had no idea he would do that...or the other,” he added, fixing Kei with a firm look. “It was a mistake to include him—but we all contributed.” “I don’t care. I don’t want to be in the situation again where a decision of mine can get people hurt. Or killed.” Romi could tell this was eating him alive, but he didn’t know what to say—for Romi, being an officer meant that this level of responsibility, however theoretical, just went with the job, but Kei’s next words showed he understood that anyway. “I suppose you think me naïve. I’m sure Arman does, though he would never say it. When I accepted the Master’s post, I thought it would just be promoting the academy, fostering talent. When Karik and I drew up this expedition, I knew there would be danger, but...I never thought anyone would actually be hurt. If I’d thought that for a minute, I would have stopped it immediately. I just couldn’t handle the result of my own decision, which is very cowardly, don’t you think?” Romi looked at him, unsure what to say. Civilians were so rarely in this situation, and no, a Master of an academy shouldn’t be in the position of causing someone’s death. But it wasn’t as if all care had not been taken, or that any of them had thought there was no risk—and it wasn’t as if under normal circumstances, that Kei wasn’t more than intelligent enough to realise this. “I have no right to call another man coward after what I did. I came this close to abandoning my people completely, without anyone to take my place. That makes me by far the worst coward in this room.” Kei cocked his head, then got up and refilled the teapot, pouring out fresh mugs-full for them both. “Tell me?” he asked quietly.
“Did you understand how close I came to dying when that thing bit me?” Kei nodded. “And you understand how...helpless I was? I couldn’t walk from here to that wall without needing to rest.” “You were lucky to survive, there’s no doubt. But it was hardly your fault.” “No, but I was sure that if the others tried to drag me along with them, they’d all die, so I decided to make sure they didn’t. I tried to kill myself, right where Kepi and Karik and Taz would have had to deal with my body, their grief, and still try to get to safety afterwards. Now that’s cowardly.” Kei had gone very still, his eyes closed. Romi wondered if he was sensing his own pain, or Romi’s anguish. He stayed silent, wondering if Kei understood at all why he was telling him this. “My mother killed herself when my father died of bej fever,” Kei said finally, in a voice so quiet, Romi could barely hear him. “The guilt of not being there to help her over her grief has never left me, and that was over twenty years ago. At times, I got—still get—so angry with her, but mostly I just wish there had been someone there to help, someone to get her over her unbearable sorrow. No one kills themselves if they see any other answer.” He opened his eyes. “Terrible pain makes people do terrible things, makes what should be unthinkable, the only option, the only logical path. Now you see, I’m sure, that it made no sense, but then, it must have seemed the right thing to do, because you strike me as a man who tries always to do the right and honourable thing.” “I try, certainly. I’m still horrified at being so selfish. As it happens, I was right that I could have led to them all dying, but now I realise they would never have forgiven themselves—or me.” “Don’t be so hard on yourself.” Romi scribbled on the paper in front of him, and handed it to Kei, who accepted it with a puzzled look. “Your own words back to you, Master Kei. What you did because you were in pain, you have to forgive. Or none of us can be forgiven. Not me, nor your mother.” Kei hissed in a breath. “You’re sneaky.” “It’s my job.” He made himself smile. “One thing I’ve learned about being an officer on this expedition is that a true leader only has the power people grant him willingly. You didn’t make Karik or anyone else go on that expedition, and I know I’d do it again and so would he. It was wonderful, Kei. Just amazing. We saw so much, did so much—even now, I wish I was back in Andon. Even with the pain and the illness, and it being so hard and dangerous.... It was what I became a soldier for. It was what Karik became a collector for. You helped us realise our dreams, don’t you understand? We’re not angry, we’re grateful.” “But...you nearly died,” Kei whispered. “Karik’s mother.... Romi, I took her son—” Romi held up his hand. “You took no one. Each of us was a volunteer, each of us eager and willing and ready. Karik makes his own choices—I found that out over and over,” he said ruefully. “The man he is, the man I am—we need to do these things to live our dreams. Risk is just part of that. How can you blame yourself for letting people do exactly what they want to do? It makes no sense.” The healer’s kind eyes showed his anguish, his fine features contorted with pain. “I just can’t. I can’t face it.”
“No, I know. Not now, not so soon. But you will,” he said, using his sternest tone, though part of him marvelled at his own audacity at speaking to such a senior person in this way. “You know, Karik said something to me when I was still so depressed and anxious. He told me ‘if you still feel lousy in two months’ time, then you can whine, but not now’.” “He said that? I need to work on his bedside manner,” Kei said, and this time, he really smiled. Romi grinned back. “Well, yes. But he’s right. If you still feel bad in two months’ time, I’ll be worried. I’m not worried now, because your heart will heal, same as mine. Karik’s worried. I’m not. I know a sound man when I see one, and you’re sound as they come.” Kei frowned. “You don’t know me at all. How can you say this to me?” “It’s my job. Well, sort of. They tell me by the time I make colonel, I’ll have nothing left to learn about human nature.” Laughter burst from Kei. “Oh, I have to tell Arman that—the amount of moaning I get from him about...oh, I better not say,” he said, covering his mouth, his eyes still bright with hilarity. Romi could guess which colonel—or former colonel—he might have been about to mention. “Thank you. Arman tries to understand, but he’s so brave, he would never run away from anything—he doesn’t know what it’s like for lesser mortals.” Romi thought about the conversation he’d had with Arman the day before, and rather thought Kei had underestimated his lover’s sensitivity. “You’re welcome. I’ll stop Karik from pushing you, so long as you do what you can to move past this. I’ll make sure you have time. I know Arman will wait.” “He will. You have no idea how patient he can be.” Kei shook his head and smiled. As he sipped his tea, Romi fancied there was a little more peace behind those sad eyes and hoped this was truly so. But then Kei looked at the sun streaming through the window. “Blessed gods, it’s nearly noon! I’ve so much to do—if you’re bored, you could help.” “I’d be glad to. I’m already sick of leisure.” Kei smiled. “You and Arman—hopeless. Well, come on.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Staying Power: 48 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ It proved to be a pleasant and full day, as Romi helped Kei with minor chores, and talked to him about the expedition, Karik, Kei’s work, and Romi’s own. Kei liked to talk, and Romi never minded listening if there was something worth hearing, which there was. The intelligence of his host astonished him—the man should be a Ruler, though it was equally obvious how badly such a role would suit Kei. Their conversation roamed widely across continents, people and histories—Kei was well informed and interested, and Romi felt that he genuinely listened when Romi spoke. It was something Karik did as well, and it was odd how two men without the least biological connection, could share so many traits. No wonder Karik idolised his uncle—unlike Soza, Kei was a mentor worthy of respect and love. But there were differences too. Where Karik’s humour, like that of his other uncle, tended to the sardonic, Kei was more silly and teasing. Romi didn’t mind being teased, when it was with such good humour and gentleness. It was impossible to dislike Kei, and a day in his company was like a rest cure. Romi’s health was naturally something they talked about. Kei regretted that the sea was still too cold for swimming as it was an excellent way of regaining fitness. He advocated long gentle walks, some short and well-planned intensive exercise, and riding, later. “If you’re going back to the village with Reji, that will be good for you, but it might be well to only do it for half the day. You and Karik both need to take it easy for a while.” “Do you go home much? To Ai-Albon, I mean.” It was the only time that afternoon Kei’s sadness showed its face again. “I go every year. At least I used to. I don’t know what will happen now—it’s their home, not mine. I can’t force myself on people who hate me.” Romi touched his arm. “Give them time too. She’ll come round.” Kei only gave him a tight smile. “You don’t know Jena. She’s a very determined woman.” “She also loves you and loves Karik. Unless she’s wilfully trying to hurt you both, I think she’ll see she’s wrong.” Kei shook his head, and changed the subject. Romi wished he knew Karik’s mother better—for all he knew, she was capable of malice and wanting to hurt Kei for spite. He really hoped she wasn’t—for everyone’s sake. But aside from that, the time passed in a peaceful and happy fashion. It was a house that brimmed with love—between Kei and Arman, for their elderly housekeeper who was a part of their family, not a servant, and for Karik and their friends. If a home could have a soul, this did—and it resided in the breast of his gentle, clever host.
Pira had decided she wouldn’t come to dinner with them all—she found large gatherings tiring, Kei said—so it was just the two of them who took the easy stroll down to the city centre in the late afternoon. “I love this walk,” Kei declared as they took the harbour path, still wet from the afternoon’s heavy showers. “So many happy memories walking with friends and people I love. Every time I see the water, I think of them.” Romi bit his tongue—he could have pointed out people felt just as fond of him and missed his company, but Kei would have to work that out for himself. Kei declined to go into the academy to look for Karik, so it was Romi who went in search of his lover. He found him deeply immersed in plant specimens, but not so absorbed that he didn’t welcome a kiss and a quick embrace. “Ready to go?” “Yes—let me just ask Seiki to tell Arman to come find us. Kei’s in the square?” “Mmmm. Wouldn’t come in.” Karik sighed. “Stubborn man. Wish he’d listen to me.” Romi waited until Karik bade goodbye to his colleagues, but before they went out into the sunshine, he tugged him over to a corner of the foyer. “Before you see Kei again, I want to ask you not to pester him about the job.” “Why? You know he’s being ridiculous.” “He knows it too—it’s not a matter of knowing at all. Look—you know you’re safe now—does that stop your panic attacks from happening?” Karik stared, then looked down and scuffed his feet. “No,” he said in a small voice. “Listen to me. Don’t push him—you’re hurting him. On his own, with love and time, he’ll make it. But don’t add to his pain.” Karik looked up. “You and he must have had quite some chat today.” “We did. All your faults were discussed in detail, as well.” Karik stuck his tongue out. “It’s true— he had some great stories to tell about you when you were a toddler.” “Oh, you...I’m going to get you for that later, lieutenant arse.” Romi raised an eyebrow at the insult. “I used to call you that in my head—I think I’ll have to call you that now too.” “Fine, you little snot. But will you do as I ask? It’ll be all right, I promise. Trust me.” Karik laid his hand over Romi’s heart. “Always. But I’ll still worry.” “I know. Come on.” They found Arman sitting with Kei on the bench under one of the many shade trees in the central square—the Ruler had shed his official robes and now looked as anonymous as any of the many other Prij who lived in Darshek. He held Kei’s hand and they were talking quietly as Romi and Karik approached—Kei was smiling, so his happy mood had lasted, thankfully. Kei stood as they walked up to the bench. “Ah, been working hard, nephew?” “Yes, but now I’ve stopped. Come on, Jes got so excited yesterday when we told her you were coming over tonight.”
Romi squeezed Karik’s hand approvingly for not taking the obvious cue to nag his uncle. Arman had already adopted Romi’s strategy, and in that, he showed he was far wiser about such things than Kei gave him credit for. It had to be hard though, not pushing, when Arman could see how much his lover needed to be back in his job, and how much the job needed Kei in it. The house they were going to, was state-owned, Arman explained as they walked along. Seiki would normally have lived with the other Gifted and indeed had done so for some time. However, Arman said, she had been determined to have a normal life despite her gift, and the Rulers (by which Romi assumed he meant Arman himself) were determined she should have it. Unusually, she had retained close ties with her family, and her mother, occasionally both parents, visited Darshek regularly. Also unusually, she had a job at the academy, working with children with hearing, speech and other developmental problems, and assisting in the infirmary where her mind-speaking was of great benefit to patients and healers alike. When she had fallen in love with an actress at the theatre, she had asked for a home of her own, and it had been gladly granted. Now her little family lived a perfectly ordinary life in their perfectly ordinary house, and her ability to live out in the world of normals was inspiring the other Gifted to attempt the same thing, albeit slowly. Kei and Arman were happy to encourage them, Kei said. The house wasn’t far from the house of the Gifted, since Seiki still had her friends there, and it meant they could visit easily. Before they even got to the gate, the front door flew open, and a tall, handsome, young woman with a small girl at her side stood there, beaming at them all. “Look, Jes! Look who’s come!” The toddler threw open her arms. “Kei-kei! Come to Jes!” Kei ran up the path to sweep her up, and blew bubbles against her neck which made her giggle madly. Then he kissed the young woman, who waved him inside with her daughter while she came forward to greet them. “I’m Seiki. You must be Romi.” Romi took her hand and shook it. “Yes. Thank you for having me to visit.” “Oh, you couldn’t have stopped me—not after all Karik told us. Hello, Karik, Arman.” She kissed Arman’s cheek. “He looks well. Is he all right now?” “He will be, my dear. Shall we go in?” It was a small, cheerful house with all the obvious signs of a child’s residence, but also showing the adults’ interest in collecting paintings, which hung on all the walls and gave the place colour and life. They were told to come into the kitchen, where an astonishingly lovely woman stood at the stove, stirring something, while Kei sat at the table with Jes in his lap. The young woman wiped her hands on her apron and smiled at Romi. “I’m Mila. Welcome.” “I’m Romi. Thank you for inviting me.” “Not at all. Sit everyone. Seiki, darling, supper will be a little while—tea for everyone?” As Mila chatted to them and her family as she cooked, Romi wondered how on earth could Soza have described this gracious young lady in the way he had, even knowing what a practiced liar he was
—he surely could never have met her. Mila was beautiful in the kind of unconscious way Romi found most winning, and Seiki clearly adored her. Seiki herself was placid and confident, and dealt with Jes with complete assurance and respect, winning Romi’s firm approval of her parenting skills. Their daughter—Karik’s daughter, he reminded himself—was happy, vocal, and very determined in her likes and dislikes. Arman, Karik and Kei were among her likes—that, she made very clear. She wasn’t so certain about Romi when Mila gravely introduced him to her. “Ma, why is he?” Karik grinned at the strange question. “Jeichi, Romi’s my friend, like Ma is Ma-Ma’s friend.” “Your Ma-Ma?” “No, he’s my Ma,” Romi said, poking Karik in the side. She didn’t like the joke. “My Karik,” she announced. “Not yours,” she added, scowling at Romi. “Oh. Sorry, Jes.” “Jeichi, that’s rude,” Seiki said gently. “Romi is Karik’s special friend, but Karik’s still your Pa.” Karik held his arms out and she climbed off Kei’s lap and came to him. “You’re my girl, Jes, always will be.” He kissed her forehead and they cuddled. “I missed you so much while I was away.” Romi wondered how Karik could face leaving his daughter again, when he clearly adored her—and wondered what he could possibly offer him that matched this pure and unconditional affection. There was little opportunity for introspection while Jes was still awake. She was fed early and allowed to play with her beloved Kei and Arman for a while, then Seiki and Karik put her to bed. After that, it was time for adults. Romi had never had much to do with artistic people before, and never met a truly Gifted, so he’d been curious to meet this couple. The reality was that their lives revolved around the same concerns as any other young family—Jes’s health, her achievements, the new words she’d learned, and Seiki’s work, and the politics at the theatre, where Mila not only performed but taught. They were very bright, very kind and very normal people, who just happened to have extraordinary talents. Romi liked them very much. The meal was simple and homely, the quiet love and affection between their hosts reminding him, with sorrow, of evenings with Lema and Wepizi. Kei visibly bloomed as the evening wore on. Romi realised he’d seen this phenomenon before—on the expedition, on their long march to safety. Kei had been starving—dying on his feet because he’d denied himself the very thing he needed to live, out of his understandable but entirely misplaced guilt. Perhaps, now he’d tasted nourishment again, his hunger would drive him back to seek more of it, and that could only be good for all the people who loved him. But if Karik left again, possibly permanently, it would hurt Kei, possibly permanently. It would hurt everyone in this house, and his parents back in the village. Once again, Romi was faced with the knowledge that, balanced against all this, he had very little to offer, and nothing Karik couldn’t get just as easily in Darshek, if he was prepared to be patient. “Romi?” “Uh...what?” Karik looked puzzled. “Mila just asked us to help clean up.”
“Oh...right. Yes, of course.” Seiki apparently had something she wanted Kei and Arman’s opinion on, and Mila was left to clear the dishes. Karik moved easily around the kitchen—it was obviously somewhere else he saw as home. Romi found a cloth to dry the plates Mila was scrubbing clean. But as soon as her lover left with the other two, it was clear they had been taken out of the way for a reason. “I wanted to talk to you both,” Mila said wiping her hands. “Actually, I’d wanted to talk to Karik, but...Romi, you need to be here as well.” “What’s wrong, Mila?” Karik came to her side. She smiled. “Nothing’s wrong—far from it. It’s just that...Karik, I know you just got back, but we’re so desperate for another child and....” She blushed and glanced at Romi. “But maybe things have changed?” Romi put his hand on her shoulder. “Not on my account. You two need to talk. Excuse me. I’ll let you have your privacy.” But Karik stopped him. “No, Romi, please. This affects you too.” “I don’t even know where I’ll be in three months’ time. You need to make this decision without considering me at all.” Karik’s expression fell. “I’m only saying how it is. No point in glossing over it.” Mila moved away, looking rather as if she wished she had gone with Seiki. “Um, perhaps you two need to talk privately.” “No, Mila, we don’t. You want another child. That’s between you, Seiki and Karik. I’m just an outsider here. Excuse me. I’m going into the garden.” He refused to allow them to hold him back, and made his way to the back door, lit a fire sprite and then found a place to sit. After the rain that afternoon, it was cool by Darshek standards, but perfectly balmy and pleasant after Andon. It was a small but pretty garden, but Romi paid it little attention beyond automatically noting the details. His mind was elsewhere, thinking about Karik, and thinking about where he would be in a few months. Thinking about how he simply could not allow Karik to walk out on his life here because it affected too many people, but how equally, Romi had no place here. He was just a guest, an appendage. Even Jes resented him taking her Pa away from her, and if a twoyear-old resented him for that, how much more would the adults in Karik’s life do so? It didn’t seem very long before he heard the back door open again, and footsteps on the path. He turned—it was Karik, looking uncertain and not very happy with him. “All done?” Romi asked. “No. Mila says unless you’re involved, she won’t allow me to help them again. I don’t understand. Why don’t you care about this?” “Because it’s your life, not mine. It’s a decision for you, not me.” Karik came over, put his hand hesitantly on Romi’s shoulder. “Don’t you think it’s a decision for us?” “And if I said I objected? What happens when I go back south, and Mila and Seiki have been denied a chance at another child on the whim of someone who’s not even part of your life any more?”
Karik dropped his hand. “I see. Already looking to a future without me. I hadn’t realised you’d made up your mind.” “I haven’t. I just don’t see any answers that will let me stay with you.” “So you just give up again,” Karik said, voice laden with scorn. “Same as you did in Andon. Things are hard, so you just run away. You aren’t even willing to try, to fight for this. I’m fine so long as it’s convenient, but as soon as it’s not, you abandon all thought of me. Who are you? I don’t know you at all.” He turned to stomp up the path. Romi made to grab his shoulder, but stopped, unwilling to trigger another panic attack. “Am I not allowed to care at all what happens to you?” he asked quietly. “Am I not allowed to want you to keep what makes you happy and gives you joy?” Karik didn’t look around. “You give me joy, you make me happy.” “Not. Like. Them. I can’t give you what they give you, and if I take you away from them, I can’t replace what you’ll lose. And if I don’t have a role to play here, then I’ll grow to resent it, and you, and I still won’t give you what you need.” He moved a little closer to Karik, but didn’t touch him. “There is more to a full life than love, and I will not be the cause of you losing this wonderful home. I won’t let you follow me, and I won’t hang around here on the fringe of your existence, because we both know I need to be doing my job, same as you do. That’s final, Karik.” He clenched his fists. There. Said. Why did he feel so cold? “And am I not allowed to want you to be happy and to give you joy, Romi? Am I supposed to sit here in my perfect life while you go south and.... But I’m assuming you would miss me at all. I forget I’m dealing with a soldier. No regrets, no ties, right? Just a ‘see you next year, maybe’ and not a letter or a message until then? That’s just how it is, right?” “Yes,” Romi said thickly. “That’s how it is.” Karik turned. “Liar. You want what I want—you want a home, you want love, you want your family close to you. Why should I have it and you can’t?” “Because you have it already. Without me. All I can do is destroy it—I can’t add to it. I bring nothing to this life you have at all.” “You could if you just tried. If you trusted me, you could.” He walked up to Romi and took his hands. “Come north,” he said quietly. “Transfer and come north.” “And do what?” “I...well, maybe Arman could find you a place. I know....” Romi held his hand up to forestall him. “No. Absolutely not. I have a job—I don’t want a make work position just to dance attendance on you.” “But what in hells do you do in Temshek that’s so important?” Romi frowned. “I train, I police, I guide my soldiers, I look after them. It’s a small barracks. A lieutenant does much more there than I would in Urshek, where there are more officers. If I came here,
I’d be one in thirty people of the same rank, with captains and colonels.... I’d have less responsibility than I do in Temshek, much less, and with much less chance of rising through the ranks just so I could do what I already do now. You may think my job is unimportant, but I don’t. I do good work in Temshek and I want to keep doing it. Because when there is nothing else in my life, I still want to be able to say I served my country well.” He looked helplessly at his companion. “I can’t say I’d give it all up for love, because that’s not something I believe in. I swore an oath to serve—that comes first. It wouldn’t matter who you were, and it’s not a matter of how much I love you. I love you more than I’ve loved anyone in my life, but I won’t become less than I know I can be to keep you.” Karik stared, searching Romi’s expression. Then slowly, he reached up his hands and cupped Romi’s face, drawing him down to kiss him gently. “I’m sorry.” “You have every right to be upset. I wish I could give you what you want, but I can’t.” Romi put his arms around his lover and laid his forehead against Karik’s. “I will always love you, wherever I am. I won’t ever give that up.” “Then that’s something I can believe in.” Karik took his hand. “Come in anyway. Tell Mila it’s all right—she doesn’t need to worry about the rest of it.” Romi squeezed him again, his heart too full to speak. Was there an answer he was missing? Was he wrong to be so selfish? But if he did what Karik asked and gave up his ambitions, he would betray himself—and he had to be able to live with himself if he was to give Karik a love worth having. There seemed no way of reconciling the two needs. He kept his arm around Karik until they reached the house, and then he went ahead into the kitchen. Mila was sitting at the table, looking worried and rather upset. He went to her and hugged her. “You make a beautiful child with him with my blessing,” he whispered. “I could never want to stop anyone doing that.” She gave him a sweet smile, and kissed his cheek. “Thank you. Thank you, Karik.” “I’ll give you all the children you want. My Ma would have a hundred grandchildren if she could.” She groaned and laid her wrist against her forehead. “Only a man would say something like that— you don’t go through the labour!” Romi let her go and Karik took his place. “Sorry, Mila. I’d help if I could with that, but I don’t have the parts.” “It’s all right, I forgive you,” she said with another winning smile. “Um... my most fertile time will start in five days...is that too soon?” “Not a bit of it.” Karik glanced at Romi and then back to her. “Is it easier if Romi comes with me or not?” Romi was slightly startled by that question. He wasn’t sure what...er...contribution he was supposed to make to proceedings. But Mila seemed rather pleased at the suggestion. “Why not? He can
sit with Seiki and keep Jes amused, and if you like, you can sleep in our spare room afterwards. Nicer for you both, don’t you think?” “Romi?” “Uh, whatever you’re most comfortable with. I’m new to all this, you know.” Karik grinned. “Don’t worry, it’s not as bad as it sounds. Mila, let us know when we should come over. Seiki? You can stop hiding now—it’s all sorted out.” Mila blushed, and then there was a voice in Romi’s head, which made him jump. “Sorry, was I that obvious?” “Mila’s the actress, not you. Are you happy with Romi being there?” “Oh yes! I would have felt really odd if he’d not been. Romi, do you mind?” Romi had no idea where his eyes should be with this disembodied conversation, but he knew what to say. “Not at all. I would be very honoured to help in any way. Jes is a lovely child and a brother or sister can only add to your joy.” “Thank you. Thank you, Karik.” A few moments later, Seiki, Kei and Arman came back in and there was much grateful hugging. Kei and Arman were just as delighted at the thought of a sibling for Jes as her parents were, and Romi rather thought it wasn’t just Karik’s mother who would love to have as many youngsters around as she could. Odd, because he wouldn’t have put Arman down as one for children at all. Seiki made tea and now the subject had been broached and settled, it could be discussed openly. Naturally, with three gifted in the room, the problem of infertility was very much on their minds. “I’m lucky,” Seiki said, “with my lover being female. If she was male, or I was like you two,” she said, nodding at Kei and Romi, “I can’t imagine any woman going through childbirth and giving the baby away.” “The problem is that our women find it so hard to conceive,” Kei said. “The Prij have the opposite problem—far too many motherless children, and no one wants them. It’s a dreadful shame. I know three couples who have offered to take Prijian orphans and give them homes, but the Prij refuse to allow it. They would rather the children died on Prijian soil than live raised by heathens.” “You had a lucky escape, then,” Romi said, smiling at Karik, but his lover frowned slightly, glanced at Arman, and then found something of intense interest in his tea mug. What had he said? Mila broke the uncomfortable silence. “Is there nothing that can be done, Arman?” “I think things are slowly changing, though adoptions out of the country are never going to be popular or common. But the prejudice against the Darshianese is very strong, sadly.” “It’s religious, more than anything,” Romi said. “They think we’re utterly scandalous because we don’t worship our gods. The Andonese think the same, but they’re more polite about it.”
“Don’t see why the gods give a damn, really,” Karik muttered. “If they exist and they’re so powerful, why do they care if we worship them or not? And if they do, then they’re not so wonderful, are they?” “See, Karik,” Kei said with a smile, “logic like that will get you nowhere when you talk to the Prij. One of the most intelligent people I ever knew—your namesake in fact—was unshakeable in his belief that Lord Niko ruled the hearts and minds of men and that we are all pawns in his hands. It seemed such a hopeless way to live, yet Karus was hardly lacking in energy or creativity.” Arman cleared his throat. “Speaking from experience, the way it works in practice is that people theoretically believe the gods rule everything, but for day-to-day things, they push it to the backs of their minds. It’s only in times of crisis or celebration that they turn sincerely to their faith.” “But you can see why they think we’re insane,” Kei said. “And why they honestly believe the souls of their children would be lost if we raised them. It’s one of the reasons that intermarriage is still so uncommon.” “We want Jes’s sibling to be half Prijian,” Seiki said, Mila nodding as she spoke. “Because they are so rare, and we didn’t want her to feel different.” “She doesn’t look different,” Romi said. “Green eyes, and her hair is slightly wavy,” Karik said. “She’ll have a slightly different shape to her nose and eyes as she gets older—my friend Gyo is half-Prijian too, you see.” “Ah.” There was undoubtedly a story there too. “I’m glad you came back, nephew, because it saved me from offering to assist,” Arman said. Romi nearly choked on his tea, and Karik stared at his uncle in astonishment. “What? If it’s good enough for you, is it not good enough for me? I fear poor Mila would have found it a tiresome experience though.” Mila just smiled at her friend. “It would not have been, Arman, and I would have been very grateful to accept. I’m even more grateful Karik came back, but that’s for his sake more than mine.” “It might have been nice,” Kei said wistfully. “A child of yours, Arman, for us both to be Pa to.” Arman took his hand and kissed his cheek, but then Kei gave him an impish grin. “But I’m glad Mila was spared the experience too.” “Are you saying I’m incompetent, you damn brat?” “No...I’m just saying it takes a real man to handle you, that’s all.” Seiki grinned behind her tea mug. “Hmph. Better go find me one then, you annoying creature.” Kei kissed him again and petted him until the fierce scowl disappeared. Romi didn’t think Arman was actually all that annoyed—it was pretty funny though. They didn’t stay much longer after that. Romi and Kei might be men of leisure but the others had to rise at dawn like all other working people. They kissed their lovely hosts, and Kei was made to promise he would come again soon before Seiki would let him leave.
Then the four of them walked home in the mild night air, Romi’s fire sprites lighting their path. It had been a sweet and homely evening, and if Karik wanted a store of good memories, then surely this would be one of them. Kei told them to take the first turn at the bath, and Karik fetched their robes while Romi soaped up. To his surprise, Karik had a razor and shaving brush with him when he returned. “Are you planning to use that tonight?” “Mmmm. I thought it was time I did.” Romi came up behind him and looked at the two of them in the polished metal mirror. “Because of me?” “I said I would shave when I have a lover. So I will.” There was a slightly mulish quality to his words as if this had been a contentious point. Romi made him turn. “You don’t need to change yourself to suit me.” Karik’s expression became shuttered and he wouldn’t meet Romi’s eyes. “You mean, don’t bother changing for me because I’m not hanging around.” Romi sighed and made Karik look at him. “No, I mean, I like your beard, so don’t think you have to shave it off for me. Are we going to fight non-stop for three months? That’s not the kind of memory I was hoping to leave you.” “I’m sorry, I didn’t...you really like my beard?” Romi rubbed his fingers along it. “I love your beard. It feels nice, and it suits you.” “I don’t like it myself. It’s just practical.” Karik turned around to face him. “But I’ll keep it if you like it.” “It makes no difference to me. I’m sure you look just as handsome without a beard as with one. If you want to shave, go ahead.” Karik frowned. “Now I don’t know what to do!” Romi laughed and kissed him. “Poor little man.” That got him a mean poke in the ribs. “Horrible brat.” “Arse. Just for that, I won’t shave at all.” Romi snorted. “That’ll certainly teach me a lesson. Not sure what, but it will. Now come on, I want that bath.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Staying Power: 49 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Karik suppressed a sigh of regret. Bathing with Romi was already one of his greatest pleasures in life and would be just one more thing he would miss dreadfully if...when...Romi left. He had to face it —Romi was right, there wasn’t an alternative unless Karik followed him. Romi wouldn’t allow it anyway. He hid his gloomy feelings, allowing himself to enjoy being held by Romi, his long-limbed body and fine skin feeling so good against his own. He wondered if they would do...more...tonight. Even if thinking about ‘more’ still made his stomach flip flop. “Karik, what did I say wrong about you being adopted? I didn’t mean to cause offence.” Karik roused himself. “Uh, it wasn’t offensive...it’s just a bit sensitive. See, Arman’s my father.” “What?” Romi’s forehead wrinkled in confusion. “Are you serious?” “Well, in one sense, yes. I guess I should tell you about my parents, since parenthood seems to be on everyone’s mind.” He extracted himself from Romi’s arms and moved to the other side of the tub. “You know I told you my real mother lives in Utuk?” “Yes, and you told me you don’t know who your real father is. Was that a lie?” “No, not really. See—my mother, Sei Mayl, was Arman’s wife. I was born while they were still married.” “I take it,” Romi said, eyes narrowed, “that there’s a reason for that careful phrasing.” “Yes. My mother was having an affair with a senator, and Arman assumed I was that man’s child, not his own. For reasons I won’t go into, when he divorced her, he took me away, and gave me to Ma to raise. But legally, Arman’s my father, and he even had to swear on oath that he believed that in a court case—which I also won’t go into because it’s all over with.” Romi still looked confused. “So, your father is a senator?” “Well, he might be, but he’s not that senator. See...Arman now believes I can’t be that man’s son, because he married my mother after the divorce and she never had another child. I don’t look a bit like him either, fortunately.” “So....” Karik sighed. “You can’t say anything about this to anyone, all right? Arman thinks that I think he’s my real father. That’s what he allowed me to believe, and so far as he’s concerned, that’s what I do believe. But I know Arman knows I’m not his son...because if I was his son, he would acknowledge that. You saw him with Jes—the man wants a child of his own, and so does Kei. If there was even the slightest possibility I was really Arman’s child, he and Kei would find a way to share things with Ma
and Pa. Or something. He’d just be very different. It’s not that he’s mean or cold to me—but he treats me as a nephew and a friend. Not his boy.” Romi nodded. “I think I understand. But who’s your father?” “I have no idea. Apparently my mother was a complete slut. No one’s actually ever said it, but it’s pretty obvious that’s what they think. My father could have been her gardener for all I know.” Romi moved across the tub to take him into his arms. “I’m sorry.” “Why? It’s not your fault my mother’s a slut.” Romi winced at his words. “I’m sorry this hurts, and that you feel so harshly about her. You can’t want to feel that way, I’m sure.” “No, I don’t. But the only contact I had with her didn’t exactly show her in a good light, and she’s never made the slightest attempt to get in touch with me since, although now that would be rather difficult anyway. Her husband is Senator Mekus.” “What? You mean your mother...pissing hells, Karik!” It wasn’t a funny subject, but Romi’s reaction raised a smile anyway. “Yes, I know. I’m related to some pretty strange people. I’m really glad Mekus isn’t my father—I’d rather have a gardener than him any day.” “I don’t suppose she’d tell you if you asked.” “First, I’d have to get a letter to the Welensi Islands and delivered to them, which as you know is almost impossible, and second—I don’t trust her not to lie to me anyway. She told me Arman was my father. I’m afraid she doesn’t value the truth much.” Romi kissed him. “Then fortunately you don’t take after her at all. Do you?” “Arman and Kei say I look a lot like her. I guess that was another reason for the beard—I look like a girl without one.” “Ah, now if you’d told me that....” Romi grinned as Karik poked him for his cheekiness. “At least I know why Arman’s a bit touchy about it. I won’t ever mention it. Who your parents are, is of no interest to me. But it’s interesting that Soza knew about it....” He frowned. “Is what you’ve told me common knowledge?” “Most of it’s on public record in Kuprij, so I suppose he might have heard from one of the Prijian scholars.” Karik looked at Romi. “He was never interested in me for myself, was he? It was all Arman, and my mother.” “And the fact you’re a hundred times better than him,” Romi added. “He did seem a bit too interested in rank to sit well with me. I’m sorry—it’s not much set against everything else, but I know he was a friend once.” Karik had been through too much for that to sting any more. “The man I was friends with never existed. I was pretty naïve, wasn’t I?”
“You were away from home, he was friendly, he taught you what you wanted to know.” Romi leaned his forehead against Karik’s. “I don’t think you need to blame yourself over that—your loyalty to him was admirable, even though it drove me insane.” Romi kissed him, and then his expression changed subtly, his eyes narrowing, his nostrils flaring a little. “But I don’t want to talk about Soza anymore,” he said in a low growl. The change in Romi’s voice went straight to Karik’s cock, making him erect in an instant, frying his brain and startling him into stuttering. “Uh...wuh-what you wuh-want to talk about?” “You. And all the things I’d like to do to you tonight.” “Th-things?” He squeaked a little as Romi’s hand slid behind him and cupped his buttocks. “Romi?” “I want you, in bed, now.” Karik’s face burned hot, which was appropriate because his brain felt like it was melting. “NNow?” “Hmmm mmmm. So get out of the bath and let me see you drying off. I like looking at you.” Now how was he supposed to make his legs work? A little nudge and he remembered what to do, although he was hardly a picture of grace as he clambered out, and it was incredibly embarrassing to dry himself off as Romi lounged in the bath watching, frankly assessing and admiring him. It was also incredibly arousing—by the time he was done, his erection was as hard as his face was red. He didn’t know what to do when he was finished. He had the feeling he ought to wait until Romi told him. “You’re a damn good-looking man. Has anyone ever told you that?” “No?” “Shame.” “Um, do you want me to do something now?” “Just wait for me.” Unlike him, Romi was as elegant as a hunting carcho as he got out of the tub, and though he was still too lean, there was much to admire in his long legs. He carried himself with such confidence, it was easy to overlook the signs of his illness and the journey’s deprivations. He was hard as Karik, his erection like a challenge, a promise of...things. He seemed utterly unconcerned by Karik’s scrutiny—he even seemed to enjoy being watched, taking his time drying himself and making sure Karik got a good look. How had he learned to be so easy about it? At last, Romi handed Karik his robe. “Now, I believe your uncle said there was a good supply of tido oil cream in his workroom. I want you to fetch it.” Karik’s hand actually shook as he took the robe and put it on, though whether from nervousness or excitement, even he couldn’t tell. Part of his mind felt he ought to be outraged at being ordered about like one of Romi’s soldiers—but the rest of his mind told the other part to just shut up and enjoy it. Were they really going to...have full sex? And would he collapse at the crucial moment?
Now he really was nervous, even as he hastened to do as he’d been told. Romi lay on the bed when Karik got back, slightly out of breath from being so worked up. The sight before him took the rest of his breath away—Romi had set a beautiful spiral of fire sprites over the bed, and his skin glowed in the golden light. One leg was bent, and he was propped up on pillows, one hand on his cock, lazily stroking it, his eyes heavy-lidded with lust. Karik felt his mouth go dry. “Beautiful,” he croaked. “Like what you see?” Karik nodded, coming over to the bed to sit down—but Romi stopped him. “Undress, please.” “Oh.” He’d forgotten he still had the robe on—Romi had been quite the distraction. He slipped it off and hung it up, then stood, uncertain what to do. Romi crooked a finger and beckoned him over, and when Karik got close, he was pulled in for a gentle, tender kiss, reminding him that Romi was only playing, and this was a game for both of them. “Wuh-what do I do now?” “What would you like to do? I want you to tell me exactly what you’d like to do to me.” Gods, it was hard to form words with Romi’s arms around him and his hands roving over Karik’s bottom, long fingers cupping and squeezing. “I’d l-like to kiss you and touch you.” “Then why don’t you?” Karik grinned, and leaned in to kiss Romi again, running his fingers up Romi’s chest and stroking his face. Romi returned the gesture, rubbing his fingers in Karik’s beard. “It must be a strange thing to have. What does it feel like?” “No different from having hair anywhere else. I only notice it when I touch it—or you do. Do that again.” Romi obediently scritched his fingernails in Karik’s beard again, and Karik closed his eyes in pleasure. “Like that.” “Good. Open your eyes, love. I want you to look at me.” Karik did and found Romi looking back, eyes full of tender warmth. “Are we...are you going to...why do we need the cream, Romi?” “Hmmm, maybe I want to treat some chafing.” Romi grinned. “Or do you have a better idea?” Karik took his hands. “Are you going to make love to me?” “Are you asking me if I’m going to fuck you?” Karik’s cheeks grew hot again, and not for the first time, he wished his beard covered them entirely, instead of allowing them to betray his embarrassment. He nodded, not wanting to say the word himself. “I’m worried.” “Think you might have a flashback?” Karik nodded again. “So why don’t you fuck me instead?” Karik blinked. “Me?” “Why not? I like it—I like it a lot, actually.” “I...I just thought you’d be in charge.” “I don’t see sex that way, though I’ll happily order you about since you seem to like it,” he added with a smartarse grin. So Romi had seen his reaction, damn him. “So, do you want to?”
“I don’t have any idea what to do.” Actually, he knew the theory, just as he had known the theory of having sex with a woman. It hadn’t saved him from being a clumsy idiot when he’d come to Mila the first time. “Sure you do.” Romi kissed him again, stroking his back with the tips of his fingers, making Karik tingle. “Don’t tell me Kei didn’t tell you about it.” “He did but.... What if I hurt you?” “You won’t. I trust you.” In some ways that made it worse. “Just hold me for a bit?” “Of course.” With Romi’s arms around him, and the calm confidence in his voice, Karik could believe this might work, but he couldn’t help but worry he’d look an idiot. Romi had had several lovers—what if he thought Karik was useless? “Stop getting worked up,” Romi said, giving him another warming kiss. “This isn’t important. If you want me to top, then I will, or we don’t have to do a damn thing, but I think you’ll enjoy this.” “I’ve never done it before. I’ll be terrible.” “Doubt it. And everyone starts somewhere. My first time on top? Hopeless. Second time? Much better. Of course, after that I was the world’s greatest lover.” Karik looked up and found Romi grinning. “At least you have some idea of the anatomy—I thought my cock was going to come out his belly button if I thrust too hard.” Karik snorted with laughter. “That’s physically impossible.” “Well, I didn’t know that. Didn’t know the first thing about where anything was, or where it should go, or any of that. If I hadn’t had such an experienced partner, I’d probably have done him a mischief out of ignorance.” He whispered against Karik’s ear. “There’s a reason they say healers make the best lovers, you know.” “Not really a healer,” he mumbled, flushing hot. “Close enough. Put your hand down there.” He moved and spread his legs, his beautiful cock inviting attention. Karik stroked it, and Romi sighed. “Such nice hands, Karik. Now, lower.” Karik sat back, and gave the task his full attention. Romi’s balls were heavy, bigger than his own, filling his hand nicely. Romi really liked him touching them too—Karik was trying to make sure he remembered all the things that Romi liked—and didn’t mind him spending time playing and stroking them. But then he gently urged Karik to explore lower, so he did. Karik had touched arses before, of course, and even had his finger up them—but touching the bottom of someone who was sick or in pain, who wasn’t expecting to enjoy the experience and didn’t give a damn if Karik did, was nothing like this. Romi quivered as Karik carefully stroked over his entrance. Karik stared at him in amazement. “Told you I liked it,” Romi said in a slightly strangled voice.
This new power he had fascinated Karik. Romi was usually so in control, his reactions never exaggerated—to see him squirm and whimper as Karik teased him, was astonishing. Karik had no idea he could do this to someone, and he would be happy to keep doing it all night. But Romi had other ideas. “Karik, please? Use the cream.” His fists were clenching at his side, his skin was flushed, and his eyes glittered in the firelight—every inch of him, begging. Begging for Karik’s touch. Amazing. Kei, in his thoughtful, teasing way, had made a little pot of the tido oil cream just for Karik, carefully labelling it with his name, and putting a note with it saying ‘Use all of it, Karik’ which had made him blush and laugh at the same time. Kei had even added some sweet smelling herbs to the cream, and made it extra thick—his uncle thought of everything. He scooped some out, warmed it on his fingers—Kei had been very insistent on that point—then applied to Romi’s entrance. At that point, he lost all confidence, even though he’d done this at least a dozen times before. “Karik? It’ll be all right.” Romi stroked his fingers along his beard, his eyes pleading. “Go on.” Emboldened, Karik pushed in, and Romi sighed in obvious pleasure. No need to ask if it had hurt then. “How long...?” “Long as you like, love. You’ll know.” This, Kei had not told him about. Karik was on his own, so he had to use his own skills to judge. This was just a matter of observation, he told himself. Watch Romi, feel his body’s reaction. So he fixed his eyes on Romi’s face, at the same time, letting his fingers judge the way Romi relaxed around them, alert for the least sign of pain or discomfort. But Romi seemed to be enjoying it—enjoying it a lot, his hands roaming over Karik’s shoulders and face, gently urging and encouraging, giving a little wiggle of excitement from time to time. Karik dared to explore a little deeper, hoping his fingers were long enough...ah, they were. Romi arched, mouth opened in an ‘O’, eyes squeezed tight—the most amazing thing Karik had ever witnessed. He’d been told about this, but never seen it. He did it again, carefully, and the reaction was even more dramatic. It was incredible, to have the power to give this much pleasure, and the sight of Romi lost in delight was dizzyingly exciting. Karik had only thought of sex in terms of how much pain or enjoyment he would experience—he hadn’t dreamt he could be the one who could be in charge of things, controlling Romi’s reactions in this way. He liked it a lot. Romi opened his eyes, and stared at Karik. “I want you,” he said in a throaty growl, and Karik’s erection, which had drooped a little as he had concentrated on other things, sprang proudly into life again. “I’m as ready as I’m going to get.” Karik nodded, mouth suddenly dry again, and forced himself to concentrate on the mechanics, applying yet more cream to Romi, and then to his own cock. This was possible—in theory—but even stretched, Romi’s entrance didn’t look like it could take something as thick as a cock. And then that led him to wonder how he could ever fit Romi’s bigger one inside him.... Romi touched his face. “Stop thinking,” he said gently. “Just feel.” He urged Karik to lean forward for a kiss. “Love you,” he whispered.
“Me too. Uh...how do we do this?” Left to Karik, they’d have dithered all night about the right position, but Romi took charge, thankfully, and arranged things until finally Karik was leaning over him, Romi’s long legs over his shoulders, and his cock nudging him. “I’m scared,” Karik whispered. “Don’t be,” Romi said, calmly and confidently. He touched Karik’s face. “You can do this.” “Yes.” And with that, Karik pushed....oh gods! “Oh!” Romi grinned. “Good, right?” “Oh gods!” “Don’t just sit there, man, do something!” Karik thrust and Romi jerked, but it didn’t seem to be bad for him. A few more thrusts, and Karik got the hang of it, though it felt so very different from what he had known from Mila, or his own hand. It was so tight, and Romi’s body resisted more than Mila’s had. But it was good, so very good, and the best, the very best thing about it was that Romi was loving it too. Nothing beat the feeling he could make Romi so happy this way. Romi was hardly passive as Karik struggled to find the best rhythm, his hands stroking and teasing, reminding him that there was a very important and neglected way that Karik could stroke him. Once Karik put his hand on his cock, Romi became a wild thing, panting and moaning softly, begging for more. Karik could only marvel at this transformation in his usually sober, sensible lover, and wonder how long it would be before they could do this all over again, because he wanted that, wanted this closeness, this control over Romi again. It seemed an embarrassingly short time before he felt himself reaching the unstoppable point of climax, and he spilled, regretting his lack of stamina. But Romi didn’t seem to mind at all, just urging Karik to keep stroking him to his own orgasm, coming with a deep groan, and going quite limp afterwards, his eyes closed, but with a smile on his face. “Are you dead?” Karik asked, not sure if this was at all normal. “Completely. I’m a corpse.” “Oh. Isn’t this illegal then?” Romi grinned and reached for Karik’s hand, eyes still closed. “You should be illegal. Gods, Karik, that was wonderful. Thank you.” Karik’s chest swelled with pride—he hadn’t been a clumsy idiot after all. He’d already discovered the aftermath of sex was a very sticky business, but Romi had had the forethought to sneak a washcloth out of the bathroom before they’d left, so Karik was able to make a cursory clean up. He apologised for the mess, but Romi shook his head. “Don’t ever apologise for good sex. It’s against the law.” Karik grinned. “Oh yes? Which statute?” “Um, Arman will know. Want me to ask him now?” He pretended to get off the bed, but Karik grabbed him. “No! Gods, Romi, you’re a tease.”
Romi wrapped his arms around him, and kissed him. “And you’re just damn beautiful.” Karik lay in his arms, more content and happy than he’d been in his entire life. “I didn’t even come close to a flashback,” he said, wonderingly. “No. I’m glad. You might still do, but like Kei said, we just move past it if it happens. But now you know sex isn’t about fear and pain, right?” “No, sex is wonderful. I want to do it again!” Romi laughed, a great deep laugh that made Karik smile to hear it. “Soon, but not tonight. My arse will need a day or so to recover. But that’s not the biggest or the best part of lovemaking—lots of things we can do.” “This,” Karik said firmly. “This is the best part.” “Yes it is.” They cuddled some more, and then Romi suggested they get under the covers since they were both falling asleep. Karik lay with his head on Romi’s shoulder as Romi lazily stroked his arm. “I’ll never forget this,” he whispered. “Whatever happens, I’ll never forget this.” “Good. Neither will I. This was special. It will always be special to me.” And that had to be enough. But would it be any consolation in the future, when they were separated by hundreds of miles? It would just have to be, he guessed, then put the thought out of his mind. He would enjoy this while he could, because such moments were precious. Time for sadness later.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Staying Power: 50 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Romi hoped that proving to himself they could have full sexual relations, had settled some of the nightmares for Karik. If they achieved that before they had to part, at least Karik would have reason not to think this time had been wasted. Romi would never regret it, although it made the prospect of parting so much harder than it already was. They settled into a routine. Karik went to the academy in the morning while Romi went for walks, usually with Kei, and the two of them would then go to the barracks for Romi to have a light workout under Kei’s watchful eye. Then they would go home for lunch and Karik would come back to spend time with them, gardening with Kei, helping Pira with her chores, or going for another walk with Romi, who found his appetite for activity was increasing every day with the return of his fitness. It really wouldn’t be long before he was back to normal. This undemanding regime couldn’t go on forever. Once the heavy rains had stopped, Karik’s father would leave for the city, and was due to arrive at new year, six weeks before Romi’s leave ended. He and Karik were supposed to travel back with Reji, and Romi then would go further south to his own family, though whether Karik would come with him was something they hadn’t discussed in detail. Romi wondered how Reji’s visit to Darshek would go. He could only hope that Reji, whom he’d judged a reasonable and fair-minded man, would take a more reasonable line than his lover. If he didn’t, it could be devastating for both Kei and Karik. A month after they had sailed into Darshek port, Arman called the two of them into the sitting room to speak to them. Kei was left with Pira in the kitchen—Romi suspected a tactical manoeuvre. Arman paced a little as Romi and Karik sat down, looking uncharacteristically ill at ease. “Karik, I’ve got news which I fear will be upsetting.” “Yes, uncle, I’m listening.” He sat straight-backed, and had gone a little pale. Romi could guess what this might be about, but stayed silent. Arman was in charge. “Romi told you I was investigating Soza, I assume?” Karik nodded. “I’ve just had word today of the results. You understand we couldn’t just arrest him—not without laying formal charges, so our only legal recourse was to suggest that he attend an investigator’s office, and voluntarily submit to a mindspeaker’s examination. He agreed willingly enough, apparently, but said he wanted to delay for a day or two because of pressing work.” Karik scowled a little and Romi knew he was thinking of the stolen specimens. “Since the investigator couldn’t insist, she agreed. But when the time came, he didn’t attend, and when the investigator went to his house, his mother reported that her son had gone without a word—the place was emptied and his notes at the academy were gone. He’d disappeared without a trace, and at this moment, we have no idea where he is.”
Karik made a small sound and covered his mouth. Romi put his hand on his arm in comfort, but Karik only had eyes for Arman. Arman continued. “Why there has been a little delay in getting this news to me is that after Soza’s disappearance, certain facts have come to light which the investigator had to verify before she reported to us. Believe me when I tell you how angry I am that these were concealed from me—from Kei and myself—and I can only apologise to both of you this man was allowed to be anywhere near you or the team.” “What facts?” Karik whispered. Arman cleared his throat. “To be frank, the attack on you was not an isolated incident, though it was certainly the worst. The Urshek investigator tells me that when she interviewed Master Jezinke, she learned there have been a string of complaints about Soza over the years from students and junior staff, ranging from unwanted sexual advances, to an allegation of assault. Unfortunately, Master Jezinke chose to investigate these himself, and decided, for reasons best known to himself, that each of the complainants had reason to lie or exaggerate their claims, and decided to support Soza against them. Equally unfortunately, none of these claims came to an investigator or the army, although two former staff members have now formally complained. Too late, however, although it will give us the power to arrest the man if he’s found.” “And are they pursuing this further?” Romi snapped, tightly furious at this revelation. “Notices have gone out,” Arman said. “If he turns up anywhere in Darshian, we’ll get him. But I suspect he’s fled further afield and you know yourself how hard it is to pursue justice across state borders. I’m sorry, Karik.” “‘s not your fault.” Karik looked utterly stricken, gone very pale. Romi slid an arm around him. “He can’t hurt you wherever he is.” “Absolutely not,” Arman agreed. “He wouldn’t dare turn up in Darshek—you’re safe.” “Yes. Excuse me, please?” He shrugged off Romi’s arm and hurried out of the room. Romi went to follow him, but Arman held him back with a hand on his shoulder. “Let him have a few moments.” Romi subsided, but glared at his host anyway. “This shouldn’t have happened. I could wring Jezinke’s neck. How could he be so damn irresponsible?” “How indeed. Kei’s as angry as I’ve ever seen him. That’s why he asked me to tell Karik—he was afraid he wouldn’t be able to stay calm. It seems Jezinke places too heavy an emphasis on the research done by his staff and doesn’t really consider the whole person. If he had, Soza would not have been suggested for the expedition at all. The Rulers down south will reprimand Jezinke, but that doesn’t do much good now. The man’s not fit to hold the post of academy Master if you ask me, but it’s not up to me or my colleagues here.” He gave Romi a helpless look. “I don’t know how to make this up to Karik —or to you.” “Nothing to make up to me, and Karik won’t blame you. But I need to go to him.”
“Yes, do that now. He’ll have calmed a little.” Arman squeezed his shoulder. “I don’t know if Kei’s told you how grateful we both are for how you’ve helped Karik over this.” “I’m doing it for Karik, not your gratitude. No offence meant,” he added, knowing he’d sounder gruffer than he’d meant to. “None taken. Go.” He found Karik in the garden, kneeling on the path, apparently examining a bush. When Romi got closer, he noted the way Karik’s nostrils flared and the high colour in his cheeks. “I want to kill him,” Karik said without turning, beginning to pick leaves off the bush and tossing them into the dirt. Romi crouched. “Who?” “Soza. Jezinke.” His hand clenched over a clump of leaves, crushing them. “I can’t do anything about this! Soza will never be caught, Jezinke will keep his job, and I won’t ever be able to work at the Urshek academy because I’ll be too much of an embarrassment.” He turned anguished eyes to Romi. “It had been the only hope I had—that maybe I could go back and do some more study...if Soza was gone. But Jezinke will still be there, so I can’t.” “I’m sorry.” He put his arms around Karik and held on tight until the tension in Karik’s body eased a little. “At least you know it wasn’t just you—that it’s definitely him, not you.” “I do know that. I just wanted to be with you, and now I can’t.” There was nothing at all Romi could say to that, and nothing he could do but hold Karik until he could face going back inside. It was a devastating blow for all kinds of reasons, and one they could have both done without. They had no choice but to just move past it—but it made the future look even more bleak than it had done, because Romi, too, had quietly hoped there might be some way Karik could, at least temporarily, come south, perhaps in a few months. That simply could not happen with that bastard running the academy. Romi’s knees couldn’t sustain the position they were in, and when he shifted, Karik freed himself and got to his feet. “Sorry. I know I shouldn’t keep getting so worked up about it.” Romi sighed in exasperation. “No one’s disputing your right to throw a complete tantrum if you want it. We just don’t know how to help.” “You can’t. I have to handle this myself. You won’t be here forever, and I can’t rely on other people to solve things for me.” Romi was a little stung, though it was only the truth, only exactly what he had been telling Karik for weeks now. “Well, while I’m here, I’ll do what I can. If they catch Soza, at least he’ll have to allow a mind-speaker to examine him, and the truth will come out.” “If,” Karik said bleakly. “Come on, I want to speak to Kei.” They found him in the sitting room with Arman. He looked up, expression worried. “Karik? I can’t —” Karik raised his hand. “Please don’t apologise to me. You were lied to, same as me. You, I trust.”
“I’m still sorry, more than I can say. Will you sit, both of you? I want to tell you something.” To Romi’s surprise, Arman went to the little cabinet at the side, and broke out four small glasses. “I think, under the circumstances, some Prijian wine might be appropriate.” “Are we celebrating something?” Karik asked, frowning. Romi could imagine Karik thought this was highly inappropriate, as did he. “Well, in a way, nephew. Let Kei tell you.” Kei waited until the glasses of dark, heavy wine were distributed, and took a sip as if to steady himself. He looked very pale, and rather distressed, but his hands were steady. Romi couldn’t guess what was going on, but was prepared to be patient. Finally, Kei cleared his throat. “Karik, what Jezinke has done in this situation is a complete scandal. As you know, I’ve always respected him greatly for his learning, but his pastoral care is abominable. To me it shows how important it is that the head of the academy is someone whom the staff and students can trust completely, and whom their colleagues can trust. Jezinke has lost my confidence, and I intend to make that very clear to him when I resume my role as academy master.” Karik gasped. “Kei! Really?” But then he frowned again. “Why now?” Kei glanced at Romi. “Because a leader only has the power his subordinates grant him willingly. People trusted me to lead them—I let them down, and I’ve left them vulnerable to predators like Soza. I want to be sure no one like that comes anywhere near our academy here. I can do nothing for Urshek, but I can keep our people safe here in Darshek.” Karik set his glass down and went to Kei’s side, hugging him enthusiastically. “Oh thank you. Gods, can you feel how happy I am?” “Yes, dear nephew, I’m getting a very good idea. I’m sorry, Ka-chi. So very sorry for all of it.” “Stop it,” Karik whispered. “I understand. You did what you felt was right, and you’re still doing it.” Arman cleared his throat. “So now you understand why I wanted us to have some wine. Karik, Kei’s not going to go back full-time until you and Romi leave for Ai-Albon. You should really take leave until...you know, you and Romi....” Now it was Kei hugging Karik, before pushing him gently back to Romi’s side. “Yes, nephew. You two should spend as much time together as you can.” Karik nodded. Romi took his hand, grateful his hosts understood the problem, and that they weren’t pushing things. “One thing—what about this stolen material?” “Oh that will be returned if I have to go to Urshek myself and tear it from Jezinke’s hands,” he said with a rare scowl defacing his fine features. “Even if he’d been entirely ignorant of Soza’s nature, there’s no way he couldn’t have realised that Soza had been dishonest over that. The arrangements regarding the dispersal of that material were very clear from the start.”
“My counterparts in Urshek will make sure this happens,” Arman added. “Jezinke’s stock will be very low at the moment.” But Karik seemed less than happy about something. “There’s something I need to know.” “Yes, Ka-chi?” “Are you going to quit again if something else happens to me? Do I have to worry about this every time I go collecting? Because if I do, I’m quitting right now. I’ll go back with Pa and work with him. I’m not working for you if you won’t allow me to make my own choices, and take my own risks.” “Karik, you can’t expect me to be unaffected if your death was reported again, or you were really killed. You can’t ask it of me.” Karik folded his arms—Romi recognised the stubborn expression, and suppressed a grin. Kei had no chance of winning this. “Oh? Why not? I’m supposed to allow other people, other nephews, sons and lovers to go out and find the drugs to save my family’s lives, my friends’ lives, but oh no, my pretty little arse is too precious to risk?” Arman made a choked noise and hid his mouth behind his hand. “Well, uncle? Why am I to be protected at the cost of the entire academy, but other people can go into the field and put their lives in danger to find the drugs we need? Will we say to the next person with bej fever, ‘sorry you’re dying, but the man who might have found the cure is currently wrapped in lemul wool on a shelf somewhere’?” “Karik, you’re...you are too precious to me to lose.” Arman laid a hand gently on his lover’s shoulder. “I know it’s not logical—” “Damn right it’s not. It’s also unfair and unjust and you’ve always told me you value fairness and justice. If you won’t risk me, you shouldn’t risk anyone.” “I don’t want to risk anybody. That was the whole problem!” Kei was roused now, bright spots of colour in his cheeks betraying his emotion. “I wasn’t any more delighted to find Sibu scarred for life than I was to learn of your death. That was my fault too.” “No it wasn’t, Kei! Damn you, you’re not dealing with dolls. We’re all adults, all capable of making choices. Sibu knew the risks, and she accepted them, gladly. She told me before our group split up that I had to go on to Mount Arzha, to make her sacrifice worthwhile! If you’re going to say you want the material but you don’t want anyone hurt, then you’re saying the battle’s not worth fighting. You’re the only one who believes that. I don’t want my children dying from a disease I could have found the cure for. I’m the best pissing plant collector in the whole of pissing Darshian, and I want to do my pissing job, damn it!” Kei blinked. Romi handed his lover his wine glass, and Karik knocked it back like a seasoned drunkard, which made Arman blink. “Perhaps some more,” Romi murmured. “Indeed,” Arman muttered. He busied himself with the decanter. Kei continued to stare at Karik as if he’d sprouted feathers. Karik glared back, his colour high and eyes flashing in a manner with which
Romi had become very familiar over the previous year. He wondered if Kei had ever seen his nephew in a temper before—from the look on his face, it seemed unlikely. Arman topped up the glasses, and set the bottle down where it could be easily reached, before sitting and taking his lover’s hand. “Kei, I hate to say this—but he’s quite right. In Karik’s position, I’d say the same. If you can’t trust in the bravery of your leader, he’s no business leading you.” Kei turned and gave Arman a hurt look. “Look—a good leader tries to minimise the risks, plans well, and doesn’t ask more than is reasonable, or that he would do himself. But after that, his men have to be allowed to make their decision to follow. Abandoning them mid-battle is the worst crime of all, and this battle is far from over. Isn’t that right, lieutenant?” “Yes, my lord. And a leader who decides in advance that only certain soldiers are allowed to die, is a filthy rotten cur.” “He certainly is.” “Fine, then I’m a cur,” Kei muttered, going to stand, but finding himself restrained by Arman’s hand on his arm. He turned to his lover again. “Are you seriously expecting me to let Karik die? Am I not allowed to have any feelings at all?” Arman pulled him close, and his shoulders shook as he buried his face in Arman’s shoulder. Karik took a sip of his wine, his hands clenching tight on the glass. Romi hoped his lover was up to the end game here. Giving in now would mean he would never win this, and for everyone’s sake, he had to. Arman stroked Kei’s hair. “A good leader has feelings. A good leader weeps for his dead soldiers and makes sure their families are cared for. But a good leader has to know when the battle is worthy, and then engages in it whole-heartedly. This is the most worthy battle of all.” Karik left his chair and knelt before his uncle, laying his head on Kei’s knee. Kei laid his hand on Karik’s hair. “It hurts so much, Ka-chi,” he whispered. “Then don’t go back,” Karik said, equally quietly. “If it hurts that much, I don’t want you to be in pain. But if you go back, it has to be the whole way. I’m just one of a hundred people who work at the academy. Every one of us is precious, and every one of us wants to win this battle. You want to protect us, but you also have to let us fight the good fight. Besides, people keep trying to kill me and failing. Maybe there’s a reason for that.” Kei’s mouth twitched a little, but he didn’t manage the smile. “Am I just a fool?” he murmured. “No. You’re my uncle and my friend and I’ll love you whatever you choose. But I can’t work for you unless I know I’m just a foot soldier.” “Not a foot soldier—what was it, ‘the best pissing plant collector in Darshian’?” Arman smiled at Romi. “His manners have deteriorated atrociously under your influence, lieutenant.” Romi raised his hands. “Wait a minute—he spoke like that before I got anywhere near him! He just acts all nice and polite, but he’s got a mouth like a beast manager.”
“Pa’s a beast manager and he doesn’t speak like that,” Karik said, lips quirking in an almost-grin. “Kei? Maybe think about it for a while?” Kei touched his cheek. “No, I’ve decided. I’m going back because my people need me. And...if you’re determined to risk your life again, I won’t stop you. But I will damn well tell you if I think you’re being foolish.” Romi smiled with relief. “That’s also a good leader’s role.” “Don’t forget,” Arman said, looking seriously at them all, “any plans have to be approved by me. And I damn well won’t be letting anyone throw their lives away in a foolish manner, nephew or no damn nephew. We can’t have the best pissing plant collector in Darshian being lost for no reason at all.” “I’m not going to live that down, am I?” Karik muttered. “No, nephew, you’re not,” Kei said, patting his shoulder. “However crudely put, it happens to be true, but don’t get a swelled head about it. You still have a lot to learn about being a healer.” “Well, I leave that to you.” Karik got to his feet. “Are we done? I don’t want to fight with you any more, Kei.” “Me neither, Ka-chi.” He made Karik lean down so he could kiss his forehead. “You scare the living daylights out of me, you know.” “Don’t mean to.” Arman coughed. “Well, now that’s all settled—let me propose a toast to Kei, and to Karik. May the battle be well fought, and the victory sweet.” Romi was glad to drink to that. He could foresee pain ahead, and more hard decisions, but he had faith in the bravery of both men, and their innate good sense. He only wished he could fight by their side, but it wasn’t to be his fate. He would have to be one of those left at home to worry and to wait. Unfortunately, waiting had never been something he was good at.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Staying Power: 51 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Lazy day followed lazy day, and Karik, who’d not had much leisure over the past six years, was learning to appreciate it. Romi and Kei still spent the mornings together, because Kei enjoyed it and Romi wanted the company, but now as Karik was coming back from the academy, Kei was heading to it—Arman suggested it was better for him to go in the afternoons, because if he went in the morning, his plan of being part-time would go out the window. Once Kei got into his work, he tended to lose all track of time, and at least this way, Arman’s arrival to collect him would ensure he stopped. The news of Kei’s return had filled everyone with pure joy. Pitis smiled constantly, and there was a spring in his step which looked a little odd in the otherwise dignified man. It had made all the difference to Kei too, and he was now, at least superficially, the man Karik had always known. One had to know him very well indeed to see the pain behind his eyes—pain that belonged not to Karik, but to Karik’s Ma. But that was something Karik could do nothing about, at least not yet. Talking to his Ma through mind-speech had been singularly disastrous. He was hoping Pa would have some answers, because he was fresh out. He almost wished things were less wonderful with Romi, that there would be some reason to be glad this interlude had to end soon, but no, the bastard just had to be kind and sweet and make every day a delight, damn him. Karik didn’t know how he’d live without Romi at his side—with him, the terrors of the assault had faded almost to nothing, and he’d had only one more panic attack since Kei had spoken to them about it. A lot of that was to do with Romi’s gentle patience over sex, but also that Karik felt safe with him near. When he thought about the fact he could run into Soza at any time, his blood ran cold, but Romi would just hug him or squeeze his arm to distract him, and Karik could push the fears back again. Would he be able to do that on his own? He went to Mila for her second cycle, and promised that if she had not caught, he would continue to help them until she did. Part of it was wanting Jes to have a brother or sister, but part of it was also thinking that maybe, if anything did happen to him in the future, the new child would offer a little comfort to his parents and his uncles. Despite Kei’s promises, Karik’s death would cause terrible grief, and he would do anything he could—short of giving up his job—to prevent that. The new year’s celebration consisted of bonfires on the beach, and mugs of hot spiced beer drunk to the health of one’s friends and neighbours. Reis took them all flying that night, high over the harbour, while Neris threw fireballs across the sky, to the amazement and delight of the crowd. Jes, experiencing this miracle for the first time, clapped her hands with delight and insisted on more, which Neris, pretending to be annoyed, readily supplied. Romi was like a child himself, staring in wonder at the sight, and grinning madly.
“Beats Mount Arzha, don’t you think?” he murmured as Reis took them even higher, with the moon rising behind the Kislik Range, and the bonfires twinkling brightly below them. “Almost,” Karik said. “Although I wish I could see it explode.” “Nephew, you are not allowed near exploding volcanoes. I’m putting my foot down about that.” “Yes, Master Kei,” Karik said meekly, giving Arman a sly grin. Arman winked back, looking as happy as Karik had ever seen him. It was so good to have Kei back in charge. Two days after new year, Seiki sent them a message that Karik’s father was just a few minutes from the barracks where he would stable his beast and cart. Arman said he had no difficulty with abusing his position by sending a calash down to collect their friend, and after a bit of shameless bullying, Kei agreed to go with Karik, though he looked nervous, and clearly thought this was a very bad idea. Karik had more faith in his Pa than that, though he didn’t expect it to all go smoothly. For that reason, Romi was to wait at the house with Arman, to let Karik and Kei absorb the first reactions. As they drove along in the Rulers’ best carriage, Karik wondered when his family interactions had become so complicated. Tiko and his Pa were waiting at the barracks’ gate as they pulled up. Karik leapt from the vehicle and ran straight into his father’s waiting arms. “Oh, son,” Pa murmured against his ear. “Never thought I’d hold you again.” “There were times I didn’t think so either, Pa.” He pulled back. Pa looked exhausted, and it wasn’t just the journey. “I’m sorry.” “I should say so too, young man,” he said, forcing a grin. “Where’s...?” He turned around, and saw Kei standing by the carriage, looking ill at ease. “Excuse me, Karik, but there’s something I need to do.” Karik released him, but then held his breath. Don’t hurt him, Pa, please don’t hurt him. His father walked over to Kei, paralysed by his approach. Then, without the least hesitation, Pa pulled Kei into a crushing hug and wouldn’t let him go. “Now that’s what I was hoping to see,” Tiko said quietly, coming to Karik’s side. “Didn’t think your Pa would turn Kei away.” “Me either, but Kei didn’t know for sure. I don’t know what to do about Ma, though.” “It’ll come right, you’ll see. Going home soon, then?” “A week or so, I guess. Romi too,” he added casually. Tiko wasn’t fooled. “Damn, but I wish he would transfer up here. Good man, your lieutenant.” “He says he’d have less responsibility if he moved up here, and have less chance of promotion.” “That’s true enough, sadly. Those small barracks can be the making of a young officer, if they’re willing to put the work in, and Romi’s done a lot with his chances. No, if he stays down there, he could make colonel. No chance here—too many young studs fighting for the same chance. He’d be lucky to make captain in ten years, though if there was any justice, he would. Hard on you though.”
Karik shrugged and tried to be nonchalant. “We knew this was coming, Tiko. Looks like Pa’s ready to go.” Tiko clapped his shoulder. “Then see you tomorrow, maybe. Good luck with everything.” Pa still had his hand on Kei’s arm. Kei wiped his eyes, but he was smiling. “Let’s go. Pira’s been cooking for a week, Reji. She knows your appetite well by now.” “Hah, had plenty of practice feeding your hollow leg over the years, Keichichi,” Pa retorted. Hearing him use Kei’s pet name made Karik feel happier than he’d been for days, at least about this business. Pa wouldn’t pretend about this—not and use the nickname too. He really wasn’t angry with Kei, and Karik could only be grateful for his Pa’s good sense and temper. There wasn’t time for any detailed news on the short drive home, so Karik just asked Pa about the journey which he’d shared with traders from Ai-Tuek, and other minor trivialities which kept firmly off the subject of the village, Karik’s friends, and most significantly, his mother. That would need a lot of time, and possibly room to swing a punch, Karik suspected. At least, metaphorically. They found Arman and Romi in the kitchen, helping Pira. Pa kissed Pira’s cheek, then clasped Arman’s hand warmly, and greeted him with unforced affection. Karik went to Romi’s side and put his arm around his waist. “Pa, you remember lieutenant Romi, don’t you?” His father turned, and to Karik’s shock, fixed Romi with a hard glare. “And exactly what makes you think you’re good enough for my boy?” “Pa!” “Reji!” “Rei-ki!” Pa grinned. “Not bad—three for three.” He held out his hand. “Thank you for bringing him home, Romi.” “Not at all, Reji. I keep telling people Karik saved my life, not the other way around, but they don’t listen.” “Oh, I believe you. My boy’s pretty amazing, don’t you think?” Romi looked at Karik fondly. “He certainly is.” Kei coughed in a theatrical manner. “Sorry to break up the Karik admiration society, but would anyone like some tea?” Pa kept a proprietary arm around Karik as tea was served, and demanded to know all the pertinent details of the expedition, though he’d had some of it before. By now, Karik and Romi were a wellrehearsed double act, and the tale only improved in the telling. They left things out, of course—nothing about the attack, which Karik wasn’t sure he ever wanted his Pa to know about—but there was still plenty to tell, and Pa wanted to hear all of it. It was a lively and entertaining evening—Kei, with the burden of wondering if Reji hated him lifted from his shoulders, was in sparkling form, and Romi and Karik’s Pa clicked like life-long friends, just as Karik suspected they might. If only his Ma were there, things would be absolutely perfect.
The conversation stretched late, until Pa finally called a halt. “Well, son, I’m not as young as I used to be, so I’d better have a bath and call it a night.” Romi cleared his throat. “Reji, you and Karik can bathe together. I’m sure you need time to talk privately.” “Well, thank you, Romi—it’s appreciated. Come on, son, you can scrub my back.” It had been so long since he’d bathed with his Pa, and it seemed odd not to have Ma there with them both. “And how are you really, Karik?” Pa asked as soon as they settled in the tub. “I’m really good, Pa. I’m so glad Kei went back to work.” “Me too,” Pa said, though he frowned. “I don’t need to tell you this situation with your Ma is causing her a lot of pain. I know she’s the one keeping it going, but I don’t think she can help herself.” “It’s eating Kei too, Pa. What in hells can we do? I tried talking to her and all it did was upset her.” “Yes, I know.” Pa sighed and sunk down to his chin in the water. “Gyo wants to get married as soon as you come back and can speak for him. Meran, not surprisingly, wants her uncle there but Jena says if he comes, she’ll leave.” “Where is she now?” “Gone south to your Grandma. She’s supposed to be back by the time we are, but....” “Kei won’t go against her wishes, you know that. He feels it’s all his fault, even though Romi and Arman and I have all told him that’s stupid.” Pa shook his head in exasperation. “I’ll tell him too, son. I’ll admit for about five minutes I blamed him, but then I blamed everyone. It’s hard to hold a death ceremony for your own child.” Karik took his hand and squeezed it. “But damn it, you’re an adult, and you’ve been wild to explore and strike out on your own since you were a boy. All Kei did was give that a purpose. I know the preparations he and Arman put in place. Damned if I could see what they could have done differently.” “Except leave Soza behind, but Kei was deceived by Master Jezinke.” He took a deep breath, and then told his father everything—the attack, the rape, what Kizinke had done and what they had discovered about Soza recently. When he was done, Pa looked too shocked even to speak. “Pa?” “Gods, Karik,” he whispered. “I had no idea.” “It’s all right. Romi’s helped, and I’m fine now. But you see how no one could have predicted this.” Pa grimaced. “No, I know that—but, son, if we tell your mother any of this, it’ll only make her more angry with Kei. She’s not...very rational about things just now. It almost makes no difference to her that you’re not dead. I really don’t understand it myself.” “Kei was like that too, Pa. Even though I was back and right under his nose, he was still grieving. He needed time.” “But with your Ma, it’s almost like she doesn’t dare let go of her anger. I’m lost, Karik, I really am. I just hope you going back will help, but I can’t swear that it will.”
“I need to talk to her with you listening. Tomorrow?” “Yes, tomorrow, when I’ve had some sleep. I tell you, son, I’m getting far too old for this.” Karik looked at his father, who looked as fit and strong as he had at any time in the last twenty years and raised a sceptical eyebrow. “Not bad for forty-nine, Pa.” “Sometimes I feel more like eighty-nine. Now, tell me all about this lieutenant of yours—he better be treating you well or I’ll kick his arse.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Staying Power: 52 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ He and his Pa planned their attack very carefully. First of all, they got Kei and Romi out of the house, because there would be some pretty strong emotions sloshing around and he didn’t want Kei hurt, or Romi to get all protective. Arman had offered to be there, but Karik thought that at least the first attempt should be with just the two of them, so Romi and Kei had gone to the Rulers’ House with him to wait. Neka was brought in on it, as his Ma’s close friend, and was warned this could get very nasty. She said, with perfect truth, that she was used to just about everything by now, and she wanted to help them all. She hadn’t judged either Kei or his Ma over this, but she ached for both of them. It was important someone his Ma could trust was involved. They gave Ma plenty of warning, so she could choose a time when she could be alone and ‘talk’ freely, when Reji’s elderly mother wasn’t likely to be horrified by her getting angry. Then it was just a matter of waiting until she was ready to speak to them. It wasn’t until nearly noon that his Pa jumped slightly, and then Ma’s voice was in Karik’s head too. “Ka-chi? Is everything all right?” “No, Ma. It’s not. Pa’s safe though.” “I’m here, Jena love. Karik’s the one who wants to talk to you.” “Ma, Gyo wants me to speak for him at his wedding.” “Yes, I know that, Karik. Don’t you want to?” “More than anything, Ma. I always promised him I’d speak up for him.” “Well, good—I don’t see the problem.” “The problem is that I won’t be going home, not until all my family is welcome.” Neka suddenly created the illusion that they could see his Ma, which was possibly a mistake because now he saw how truly furious she was. “That man will not be welcome in my home as long as I live, Karik. He’s nothing to me.” “He’s not nothing to me, Ma. Kei’s my friend and my uncle, and if he’s not welcome, then I’m not welcome.” “He’s not your uncle! He’s no blood to you at all!” “Neither are you, Ma.” His mother’s eyes widened in shock. “How can you say that to me? I raised you since you were six weeks’ old. You know I’m your mother.” “Yes, you are, but you’re not my blood relation. If Kei’s not my uncle, then you’re not my Ma. It’s only pure chance that you raised me, not him. You know he wanted to. He still wishes he had.”
“Fine, if you want him to be your Pa, then I wash my hands of you. You’re not my son any more!” Karik looked at his father through eyes that were suddenly misty with tears. “Oh, Pa....” “Let me, son.” “Jena, are you really going to lose everyone in your life for the sake of your damn pride?” “That man nearly got Karik killed, just for his own glory. He didn’t care because Karik’s my son, not his, so it didn’t matter!” “That’s not true! Karik shouted. It nearly killed Kei to get that news, Ma! He blamed himself. But you had no right to blame him—you’re just plain wrong, and cruel. I’m ashamed of you!” “Karik, that’s enough,” Pa said, squeezing his hand. “She’s still your mother. Show some respect.” “Sorry, Pa.” “Ma, I didn’t mean...Ma, don’t cry, please don’t cry.” This was all going horribly wrong, and he looked at his father, horrified at what he’d done. “Jena?” This was Neka, breaking in. “I want you to calm down, darling. Come on. Please, Jena, dear.” Karik and Pa stayed quite silent as Neka gently and kindly coaxed his mother into a semblance of calmness. “Now, Karik, I won’t allow you to use me to hurt your mother. I know this is difficult, but be polite or I won’t help you.” “Yes, Neka. Ma, I’m really sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.” “You meant it though, didn’t you? Kei means more to you than I do.” “Don’t be silly, Ma. Kei’s part of my family—but you’re my Ma. I’ve got lots of uncles, but there’s only one of you. I volunteered to go on this expedition. I helped Kei plan it, and there were lots of people involved. You may as well hate the Rulers in Urshek as him—why do you blame him so much?” “Because he knows how I felt! He knows how much I hate you going away, and he still let you! I can’t ever forgive him for that.” Karik looked at Pa, who shrugged. “I can see that. I don’t agree with you, though—I chose to go, and I’d do it again in a heartbeat. Won’t you let him come home and talk to you about it?” “I won’t speak to him. He broke my heart and he knows it.” “Yes he does. You broke his heart too. I swear, all the pain you feel, he feels. You’ve known him for twenty-two years—tell me I’m lying.” “I don’t care.” Which was a slight improvement over ‘I don’t believe you’, Karik supposed. “Ma, Meran doesn’t deserve to be punished. She’s done nothing wrong—nor has Myka or Keiji or Banji or Fedor. If Kei can’t go home—and he won’t without your permission—you hurt all these people who’ve never done you a bit of harm, who’ve helped you all this time, and who admire you. Even if you hate Kei, you can’t do that to them. They didn’t have anything to do with the mission.” “Jena love, Karik’s right. A personal grudge is one thing, but banning Kei from his family is wrong.”
“Fine, then I’ll just stay here until he’s gone.” Karik gritted his teeth. Gods, his mother was stubborn. “Seems a pretty mean thing to do to Meran, don’t you think? Her favourite aunt staying away from her wedding? Don’t you think this year’s been hard enough on the pair of them? On everyone? Please, Ma, I want to come home and just be with everyone again. I miss you so much. I want to hug you and kiss you. I can’t do that if you’re not there.” Damn it, she was crying again. “Jena, if you let Kei come back, I know he won’t interfere with you. He’ll stay with Fedor or Rin, and just go to the wedding. But Meran wants you there as much as she wants Kei. Please, love, don’t split the village on this. However much pain you feel, this isn’t fair.” Ma wiped her eyes, and sniffed. “All right. He comes, he keeps out of my way. If he doesn’t, I’m leaving.” “Thank you, love. I know how hard it is for you. I’m not belittling that.” “Thank you, Ma. It means a lot to me, and now I can come home and kiss you.” “You better. I...Neka, I want to stop now.” “Of course, darling.” The connection was abruptly closed. “I’ll keep an eye on her for you, Reji,” Neka said. “Karik, I’m surprised at you. Jena’s been through a dreadful time, and you can see for yourself how distressed she is. I know she said some unkind things, but she’s got an excuse you don’t. Show a little tolerance, for mercy’s sake.” “I’m really sorry, Neka. I just got caught up in how upset everyone was because of this—you’re right. It won’t happen again.” “I hope not. I don’t like my friends being hurt, and she really feels so alone right now. If I have to choose which one of you to protect, it will be her, do you understand?” “Yes, Neka, I do. Um, will you tell Kei and Arman what happened?” “Yes. Reji? Neris is expecting you to visit tomorrow or Reis is going to kidnap you.” “I’ll be there,” Pa said with a grin. “Thank you, Neka.” She closed the connection, and they were left looking at each other. “I need a beer,” his father said. “Me too.” Fortunately, he knew where Pira kept it, and broached the cask. “Pa—do you think she’ll change her mind?” “I’d say the chances are good. She really loves Kei underneath it—that’s why she’s so angry and hurt. And he really loves her and will do anything to heal this. It might take some more yelling, though.” Karik winced as he set the mugs out in front of them. “She might even forgive me in time, too.” “Well, son, we were both getting pretty het up about things, and so was she. She didn’t really mean what she said, and neither did you. Apologise again, and know she’s not trying to be cruel, not really. I think you have to realise it’s different for us, and we have been through a few crises with you over the years. If someone hurt your Jes, how would you feel?”
“I’d kill them—bare hands, no hesitation. I know, Pa. But Kei did nothing wrong—she has to see that.” Pa nodded. “She will. Gods, I hope she will, at least. She and Myka had a terrible argument, and Meran’s been so upset. The village has been set on its ear by this.” “That why she went to Grandma?” “Yes. A lot of fence mending to do, son. I’m hoping you and your lieutenant will help in that.” Karik looked down at his beer, the temporary relief he’d felt melting away like the froth on his drink. “Romi’s going home,” he said quietly. “He’ll most likely stay for the wedding, then he has to go back to his barracks.” “I’m sorry. This really has been a hard year for everyone. I was hoping the new one would be better, but I guess it won’t be for you.” Karik shrugged. “Still alive, I guess. That’s more than I was expecting a few months back.” “Then maybe something will turn up. Where there’s life, there’s hope. Now drink your beer. I think I’ll want more than one.”
~~~~~~~~ Arman had taken the two of them to the barracks to inspect a new infirmary building, and then driven them back to the House, but it was obvious to Romi that the minds of his two hosts were on one thing and one thing only, even though they tried to pretend otherwise. They were having lunch in Arman’s office when Kei suddenly stiffened, and Romi, now wise to the symptoms, realised he was having a mental conversation with someone. Arman waited patiently for his lover to finish. “Well?” “She’s agreed,” Kei whispered. “I can go home.” “Oh, thank the gods,” Arman said, pulling Kei into an embrace and kissing his forehead. “She still hates me.” “She doesn’t, you know she doesn’t. You’ll make it work. I have every faith in you.” Kei straightened up, wiped his eyes and coughed. “Er, maybe. Anyway, Romi,” he said with a bright smile, “that’s our little domestic drama over. Sorry to impose in that way.” “Not at all,” Romi said. “This is important to Karik, and to you all. It must be very painful.” Kei shrugged—no need for him to confirm the obvious. “Ah, and now it is over,” Arman said with a more genuine smile than Kei’s, “I have something I want to talk to you about. Have you finished? Good.” He rang to have the trays cleared, and shoved them all onto a side table. “Now, Romi. I’ve had Tiko telling me how much he wants you to stay in Darshek, I’ve got my nephew telling me he wants you to stay—so why aren’t you?” Romi stiffened—he hadn’t been expecting this in the slightest. “My own reasons, my lord.”
“Oh, don’t ‘my lord’ me, young man. I’m speaking to you as a friend and Karik’s uncle right now —I’ll tell you when I’m a Ruler again. Do you dislike Darshek?” “Not at all. It’s a lovely city and if I had a proper role here, I’d be very happy. But I don’t, and I’ve already told Karik that I’m not going to sit here like a toy for his amusement. He respects that—and I hope you will too.” Arman only grinned, to his surprise, and so did Kei. “So, if you had a proper role, you’d stay?” “Yes, but look, Arman, I won’t put up with you cooking something just to keep Karik happy. That does neither of us credit.” “Proud, aren’t you?” the Ruler said, raising an eyebrow at him. “Well, you might be surprised to know that I’ve been ‘cooking up’ a plan from the first time I met you, lieutenant. Men of your calibre are a real catch, and your skills are exactly those we could make the most use of here. With one thing and another, I’ve put those thoughts aside, and I didn’t want to do anything officially until Kei came back to his post—” “Which you had no business assuming I would, Lord Arman,” Kei said sternly, wagging his finger at him. “I know you too well,” Arman said with a serene smile. “Anyway, I’ve been sorting a few things out, talking to my colleagues and the academy, Colonel Leke and so on. Three days ago, I finally got their agreement to make you an offer, which I swear on my honour is being made on your merit, not because of your relationship with my nephew. Is that clear?” “Yes, all right,” Romi said suspiciously. “You might sound a little more enthusiastic. Here it is. The Rulers want to form a special unit within the army that will take charge of all expeditions out of Darshianese territory—whether to Andon, Kuprij, or elsewhere. It will be responsible for recruiting and training its own people, and bringing in civilian assistance as and when required. It will also coordinate with our allies, and help set up the kind of research stations you were suggesting. This unit would be autonomous—answering only to Colonel Leke and the Rulers. Every member will need to be multilingual, highly skilled and experienced. Now I know it will take time to build such a thing—and that’s what I want you for. I want you to head this. I want you to spend a year studying the feasibility, and making plans for expansion, taking charge of recruitment and training the core unit. After that, if you want to go back south, you can —so long as you have trained a suitable replacement. Er, of course, the head of such a unit will need to be more senior than your present rank, so it would carry a promotion to captain.” Romi stared, quite lost for words. “He’s in shock. Maybe some water,” Kei murmured cheekily. “Oh, be quiet, tiresome brat. Let the man think.” “My lord...really not for Karik?” “Really not. If you don’t accept, we’ll start looking for another person—but I have to say, you’re perfect for the role. Not uniquely perfect, but you’ll do for now.” Romi smiled at the joke. “But...Karik? Would he be involved?”
“If you judge him suitable, yes, and if the academy releases him. The unit will not be controlled by the academy, and there will be no further expeditions under their aegis either. The Rulers will be the only ones who will authorise such things in future, and there will be no splitting of authority as with this last one—you’ve convinced me of the folly of that. Any civilians who work with you will submit to the army’s authority, or they don’t work with you. Make no mistake—this will be hard work, and you’ll spend a lot of time away from Darshian, though I hope as time goes on, you will train and recruit locals to do their own surveying. But in the first instance, the expedition unit will have to take charge of all of that. The Andonese are very enthusiastic about this idea, and my colleagues see this as an excellent way of increasing the strength of the ties between us. So, what do you say?” Romi wondered if he was half-witted, honestly. “What do you think? Yes, of course.” Arman smiled. “Well done, man. Of course, you finish out your leave, and take more if you need it to settle your affairs in the south. I’ll have papers drawn up to have you formally transferred north, and to finalise your promotion. Congratulations, captain Romi,” he said, sticking out his hand. Romi shook it, still rather dazed. He was staying? With Karik? “Karik!” “Well, yes. I think you might want to be the one to break the news.” There was a knock at the door, and a servant came in to take the plates. “Ah, Lev, please call a calash for me.” “Yes, my lord.” “I can run—” Kei patted his hand. “No, Romi. Karik and Reji will still be talking about Jena. Give them time to get that behind them, and then you can make Karik ecstatic. Beside, I want to be there. Karik’s such a joy to feel when he’s happy.” “All right. Arman...my lord...if Karik and I don’t....” Arman fixed him with a stern look. “I told you. Your position does not depend on your relationship with Karik. As an uncle, I expect civilised behaviour from you both if things don’t work out, but your private affairs are just that. Ah, but are matters that uncertain between you?” “No, not at all,” Romi said, smiling at how much they were not. “But I can’t help but plan for all contingencies.” Kei looked at his lover. “Damn soldiers,” he muttered ruefully. “Hush. Quite right, Romi. But don’t worry about that. The only reason you’ll be removed from your post is if you are grossly incompetent, which I know you’re not, or you wish to be. I don’t operate a system of nepotism here.” “No, of course not. Sorry...I’m just a bit overwhelmed. Gods, what a job!” Kei grinned. “I told him he should mention it before Reji arrived, but he wouldn’t listen to me, damn him. Always so cautious.”
“Impudent brat—there was more than enough excitement to deal with. A few days didn’t make any difference.” Romi had to admit Arman was probably right about that, but he had a feeling Karik was still going to tick his uncle off for concealing things. There was a knock at the door announcing the calash and they went down to the foyer. As the elegant vehicle set off, Romi had to restrain himself from racing ahead of the jesigs, moving along much too slowly for him—damn them, couldn’t they gallop just this once? When he could wish for a mind-mover’s Gift to fly to his lover and give him the news there and then? When they reached the house, he jumped from the carriage and bolted inside, heedless of what the other two were doing. “Karik! Karik!” Pira emerged, wiping her hands. “Romi, what’s all this shouting?” “Sorry, Pira...damn it, have they gone out?” “They’re in the garden—” Romi didn’t wait to hear more. “Karik!” Father and son were startled by his bounding out in the garden and shouting. “Romi, what’s...ooph....” He grabbed Karik and hugged him, swinging him around. “I’m staying! Here, with you!” “How...what?” Karik stared at him in confusion. “Romi, perhaps you better put my son down before he dies of lack of air, and then you can tell us,” Reji said, though he was grinning like a fool. “Never mind, Reji.” Arman had come out into the garden and was beaming at them both. “I’ve offered Romi a job and he’s accepted. Karik, you’re looking at captain Romi now—head of the new expedition unit.” “C-Captain? Romi!” Romi squeezed him again. “I can stay, I can stay!” He stopped and looked at Karik. “You do want me to stay, right?” “Idiot!” Karik grabbed his head and kissed him hard. “But I’m still going to Gyo’s wedding.” “We all are,” Kei said. “Well done, the pair of you. Now, Reji, let the youngsters have a bit of privacy. Come inside.” Romi only had eyes for Karik, and couldn’t seem to stop kissing him. “Oh gods, it’s a miracle,” he said, holding Karik tight. “If I know Arman, it wasn’t a miracle so much as him realising what a treasure he was losing. Expeditions—will that mean travel?” “Yes—you too, if you want it.” Romi stopped. “Will you? After all this? It’s been so terrible for them all.”
“Yes, it has,” Karik said, tugging Romi over to a bench as he spoke. “But I can’t let that stop me. Ma and Pa will have to accept this is my life now, and if I die, I die doing what I believe in. I don’t plan on dying though.” Romi kissed again. “Better not. Are you happy?” “Will you stop asking stupid questions? I guess I have to call you captain arse now.” “Don’t worry, you’ll always be my little snot. Ow.” Romi rubbed his arm, and grinned. It looked like settling for the best had finally paid off.
The end
Freely Given A prequel to Falling from the Tree and Staying Power
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Freely Given: 1 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ “Well, little brother, it’s time.” The words Kei had been bracing himself for all afternoon, and still they struck him like a slap to the face. But for Reji’s sake, and Arman’s—since his lover was watching him intently, and Kei could almost see the waves of concern and guilt rolling off him—he put on his brightest smile. “Yes, you better be going, Rei-ki. I know there’s a certain lady healer and a pretty blond child who might just be missing your rangy backside.” The mention of Jena and Karik brought an answering smile to Reji’s lips, though his eyes were still sad. “Jena, yes. Karik—I doubt it. I’m just a braid to play with right now. Anyone’s would do.” “No, he prefers yours, I know he does. He’s so sweet the way he smiles at you when you hold it out to him.” “He’s just happy to have his favourite toy around,” Reji said dismissively, but the fond smile still lingered. “I have to admit I miss the little squirt too.” “If you’re going to be his Pa, you better do more than miss him. Now, come on—you’re the one always talking about wasting daylight, and you have to get back to the inn.” Kei made himself walk over to the coat pegs and take Reji’s jacket down, though the act brought tears to his eyes. “Here. Be safe. Come back soon.” Reji accepted the coat, but didn’t put it back on. “Kei—I’ll be back in a couple of months, you know that. And you can talk to Jena just about anytime, and Myka. It’s not like we’ll be so far away.” “And it’s only six months—good grief, the time will fly like no one’s business.” Kei sensed Arman behind him, though he came no closer. “We’ll be fine. Kiss them all for me—even Peit.” “Especially Peit,” Reji said, his smile widening briefly. “Oh...damn it. Come here, Keichichi.” He pulled Kei into a rough hug, and buried his face in his shoulder. “Going to miss you, little brother. And worry.” “Me too,” Kei whispered, the tears he’d been holding back, now falling without restraint. “But it won’t be so long. We have to do this.”
Reji squeezed him hard, then moved back, rubbing his eyes furiously. “Yes, you do. Arman?” Kei’s lover came to his side, and Reji put out his hand. Arman took it and looked gravely at their friend. “Make every moment count.” “I will. Thank you.” Reji grunted and let his hand go. “Right. Enough of this. Kei—behave. Arman—keep him out of mischief.” He grinned—this time genuinely—at Kei’s yelp of outrage, then turned without another word, and headed out their door. Kei had to force himself not to follow. It was like that day...that dreadful day. Arman slid his arm around Kei’s waist, and kissed his temple. “He’s right, you know. They won’t be so very far away.” “I know,” Kei said, but his voice still shook, and Arman, not being fooled for an instant, gathered him into his arms. “Back for next year’s night of the ancestors. That’s what I promised you.” “I know.” He let his lover hold him, because they both needed the comfort, and there was very little point in pretending any of this was easy. “Thank you for not reminding me this was all my own damn idea.” “I consented, we both planned. You can go home any time you want. I’m the only one obliged to stay and you know it.” Kei pulled back to glare properly. “Where you go, I go. End of argument.” “No arguments here,” Arman said gently. Kei got the impression he was being indulged, and it irritated him, but at the same time, he was feeling fragile and upset, and Arman was just being his usual kind and considerate self. “Is there any more tea, do you think, or did that tuktuk drink it all?” “Probably,” Kei said, making an effort to sound normal. “It’s not beer, so he won’t have wanted it all.” He tugged himself free of Arman’s embrace and went over to the little table to peer into the teapot. “I could easily top it up. I just need to get water from the kitchens.” “Don’t bother,” Arman said. “Wish we had a little stove or something here. I can cope without being able to cook, but it’d be nice to make tea when we wanted.” Kei agreed, already wondering how he would cope with the cramped living conditions after years of living in a house with just Myka’s company—or on the road, in one way or another. At least they had a measure of privacy in the guest room, but he wished he hadn’t been too embarrassed to accept the offer from Lord Meki for them to stay in the Rulers’ House. “Could be worse—we could be in the dormitory.” Arman came up behind him, wrapped his arms around Kei’s chest possessively, then whispered into his ear, “I wouldn’t mind but I think we might scandalise the students, considering my plans for you.”
Kei couldn’t help his grin as he twisted around to face his handsome man. “Care to demonstrate your point, general? I’m a bit slow—I always do better if actions replace words.” “Any except your own, you mean,” Arman said dryly, then leaned in and kissed Kei until his toes started to curl. “The time will go quickly, you’ll see.” Kei could only hope it would. They’d been in Darshek less than a week, and already he was desperately homesick. What would he be like in six months?
~~~~~~~~ Arman heard the door latch being opened, so he stood up, folded his arms and schooled his features into his sternest expression. Kei didn’t see him at first, his hands fumbling at his overshirt, pulling it over his head, and then hanging the garment up on the peg, his movements slow and awkward. When he turned around, he jumped a little. “Arman! Why aren’t you with Lord Meki?” “I asked for the morning off. Sit down. I need to talk to you.” Kei just nodded, and sat heavily down on the stool, scrubbing his eyes. “Gods, what a night. We lost a patient too.” Arman sat down and took one of his lover’s hands, rubbing it carefully. “Unexpected?” “No. Just sad. A man with a wife and three children—wasting disease. Nothing we could do, really, but I wished we could.” He looked up, a fierce light in weary eyes. “One day, we’ll have an answer for this kind of thing. I vow that on my parents’ memory.” “Yes, I know you do. I also know if you keep this up, you won’t be finding any damn answers because you’ll be dead of exhaustion. Did you get breakfast before you came upstairs?” Kei’s guilty start gave him the answer. “No, I thought not. I suspected you were doing this. Kei—enough. You can be a scholar, a teacher and a healer—but not all at the same time. You have to give up something. There aren’t enough hours in the day, and you don’t have enough energy to do all you’re trying to do. Especially not if you’re missing meals as well as sleep,” he added sternly. “I have to do this, you know that,” Kei said, tugging his hand free. “I have to finish my training, and they’re short of tutors, and if I don’t work in the infirmary, my skills won’t improve. Every patient teaches me something. It’s not like learning to stick a sword in someone.” Arman ignored the dig at his former occupation. “Fine—but the lack of tutors is not your fault, and not for you to solve. Learn your profession properly, then teach it.” “It’s only a few hours a week—” “A few hours plus the preparation, and the time you spend chatting informally with your students —Kei, we’re talking about nearly a whole day lost every week, and you don’t have it to spare. I want you to tell them you can’t do the tutoring any more.” Kei set his jaw stubbornly. “I don’t tell you how to manage your time.”
“No, because my time isn’t under my control, it’s under Lord Meki’s until I finish my sentence. Your time is yours to control but you’re making a mess of it.” He cupped Kei’s cheek, and ran his thumb carefully over the shadows under Kei’s beautiful eyes. “Keep this up and you’ll get sick. You’ll be no use to your patients or your students or yourself then.” “So you’re a healer now, are you?” “No. But I’m used to managing people, and if I saw a soldier doing to himself what you are, I’d say the same thing. I’m serious—make the decision yourself, or I’ll speak to Master Bikel.” “Stop bullying me,” Kei snapped, pulling away from his touch and standing up. “It’s only another three months. I’m no weakling, you know.” “No. But I will still speak to Master Bikel if you don’t stop.” Kei glared at him. “You have no right!” “I have every right as your lover and your friend. A duty, in fact. I’ll risk your anger before I’ll risk your life, my love.” Another furious look, but then Kei slumped, and then sat down again, his hand over his eyes. “So tired,” he murmured. Arman moved his chair over so he could put his arms around Kei. “I know,” he said quietly, as Kei rested his head on Arman’s shoulder. “Lord Meki is worried about you too—now don’t get cross at him,” he said, forestalling the protest he could feel building as his lover’s body tensed up. “The man thinks very highly of you, for good reason. I asked him for time to speak to you and he told me to take the day off, as much time as I need. So I’ll work here today while you rest, and then I’ll feed you and look after you. And then you are going to speak to someone about this teaching load, or about the night shifts—something has to go. I insist on that.” “You really have no right to order me around,” Kei mumbled into his shoulder. “If you won’t look after yourself, someone has to. Kei—please? Don’t fight me. You don’t have the energy, and you know I’m right.” He stroked Kei’s back slowly. “You need to go to bed.” Kei gripped his shirt. “Sleep with me? I hate being alone.” “Of course.” Lord Meki’s work would have to wait—and to be fair to the Ruler, it wasn’t him insisting that Arman brought work back to their rooms. Arman felt he had to abide by the spirit, not just the letter, of his punishment duty. But he was sure Seya and Lord Meki both would consider Kei’s health more important than almost anything the Rulers could ask him to do. He urged his lover to stand, then took it upon himself to strip him. Kei was yawning and barely up to the task of keeping upright. Arman could have scolded him all over again for letting himself get so exhausted, if he wasn’t exactly the same about the things that mattered to him. “Move,” he said, giving Kei a gentle push toward the bed. “You too,” Kei said stubbornly. “I won’t be long. Go on.”
As Kei stumbled off, Arman collected Kei’s clothes and hung them over the back of the chair. Then he stripped as Kei watched him through sleepy eyes. “Can we make love first?” Kei asked as Arman came over to him. “After,” Arman said firmly, even though the hopefulness in Kei’s voice made his cock twitch. “Bully.” “Quite.” He got under the covers and pulled Kei into his arms, holding his warm, lean body close against him, savouring the closeness they had not shared in nearly a week, with Arman returning to their rooms after Kei had already left to work on the night shift, and leaving before Kei had come back in the morning. “Now, sleep. You don’t have to do it all, not all at once,” he said, murmuring next to Kei’s ear, then kissing it tenderly. It seemed no time at all before Kei was a heavy unresisting weight in his arms, and his breathing had deepened into that of true sleep. Arman had to smile at the idea of Kei, even exhausted as he was, offering to have sex with him. It wasn’t that Arman was against the idea—far from it, as his cock, now hard from Kei’s leg pressing against it in a delicious way, could testify. But he wasn’t exaggerating his concerns in the slightest, and though he would have a fight on his hands when Kei woke with some of his energy restored to him, Arman was determined to have his way. He would not allow the most precious thing in his world to be lost from inattention, nor this magnificent man to wear himself to the bone as everyone who knew Kei had warned Arman he was wont to do. He wished these six months were up though. He wanted the liberty to make the choices that were best for both of them—but he had an obligation to justice and a dead boy’s soul to discharge first, though, in truth, he would never do either as fully as he wanted. Soon, he promised silently, kissing Kei’s forehead. Soon we will be free, and you can go home again.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Freely Given: 2 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ “Kei?” Kei sat up straight as he heard the voice in his inner ‘ear’. “Yes, Neka?” “Sorry to disturb you, but Meki wants to know if you could step across to his office to meet with him and Arman this afternoon.” “Er...yes, I think so,” he said, quickly checking that he was free. “What for, did he say?” “No, he didn’t. I suppose it’s about you two leaving us soon.” She sounded sad. “Yes, that must be it. I can’t wait, though I’ll miss you all.” “It’ll be so terribly dull without you. Reis is miserable at the idea. Even Wyma can’t cheer him up.” “I won’t be leaving for a couple of weeks yet. Not until Reji gets here and does his business. I’ll see Reis again.” “Yes...but at some point, it will be the last time. Do you have to go, Kei?” He sighed. “Yes, dear, I do. Because I miss everyone and they miss me. And they do need me.” “So do we.” Neka didn’t tend to pout the way Reis did when he was frustrated, but there was a pout in her tone, nonetheless. “Maybe we should arrange for Jera and Reis to fly you back and forth so you can spend a month there and a month here?” He had to laugh at the idea. “That’d be fun, but not very practical. But I will come back, I promise that. And you could come to visit, if you liked.” “Leave Darshek?” “Can’t see why not. Not if it’s just for a visit. You’d like Ai-Albon. You liked Myka, didn’t you?” “Oh, yes, she’s such a dear girl. Well, maybe. It’ll give Reis something to think about, anyway.” “Good. If you could let Lord Meki know I’ll be over there at three. Thank you, Neka.” She closed the connection. He sighed and laid his pencil down, walked over to one of the large windows in the library to look out over the garden. He loved this place—it felt, a little, like being with his parents again. All that knowledge, waiting to fall into his hands, and in these books, in the heads of all the clever people who worked and studied here, might be the answers to the questions which plagued him. A cure for bej fever, a cure for the wasting diseases, a way to prevent the catastrophic infections which claimed too many even when surgery had apparently succeeded. He felt so ignorant, so helpless in the face of all that he didn’t know, and this was power, waiting for him to use. And yet...as he looked out over the magnificent beds of flowers, the lush lawns, in his mind’s eye he saw the herb garden back home—saw his mother as she used to kneel, carefully selecting the best
leaves, the most pungent flowers, the seed pods, little Myka at her side, learning and listening, as Kei himself had done. And there—there was Pa, coming out to them with mugs of tea, kneeling by Ma and kissing her cheek, squeezing his daughter and making her giggle. Then looking over to Kei with that brilliant smile of his. ‘Come on, son—you just going to watch the rest of us work?’ Kei felt his eyes filling with tears, remembering, missing them so much, wishing with the dull ache of hopelessness that his parents were still alive, that at least his Ma had not chosen to leave them when they were still so young and needed her. Only Myka left, his precious, beloved sister—the only one who could carry on their line, the seed of his parents’ humanity and intelligence. All Kei could do was continue their work, solve the mysteries they had struggled with, just as he was struggling. One day, no more children would lose their parents to bej fever. No more fathers and mothers would watch their children gasping as their own lungs drowned them. And no more grieving widows would take their lives out of raw despair at their loss. He rubbed his eyes, and blew his nose, wiping the indulgent tears from his cheeks. This did his parents’ memory no honour, and it was a dreadful waste of his opportunity. He had work to do, and little time to do it. He had to get on.
~~~~~~~~ “I think you will find, my lord, that the real difficulty—” Arman stopped talking as there was a knock at the door and then Lord Meki’s clerk put her head around the door. “My lord, Kei of Ai-Albon is here for you.” “Send him in, thank you.” The clerk bowed and withdrew. Arman regarded his superior. Lord Meki looked suspiciously pleased with himself. “My lord, you didn’t mention Kei was coming here.” “I asked him here because I wanted to speak to both of you. Please put that aside for the moment, and then take a seat.” The door opened just as Arman finished clearing up—it was Kei, freshly washed, wearing a clean shirt, and looking rather nervous. He bowed. “My lord, you wanted to see me?” “Yes, thank you for coming, Kei. Arman, pull up another chair, please. Kei, sit.” Kei looked at Arman and raised an eyebrow—Arman could only shrug minutely. He had no idea what was going on. Once they were settled, Lord Meki steepled his hands. “And how are you doing, Kei? Making good progress with your studies?” “Yes, my lord, passing fair. There’s so much to learn, but I’ve completed the official course as planned. I believe I’ve reached an adequate standard.”
“Adequate, hmph. Your instructors are running out of superlatives, young man. I believe you embarrass them—if you weren’t so well-liked, I believe they might even be happy to see the back of you.” The Ruler’s thin lips curved in an uncharacteristic smile. “But as it happens, they’re not.” “I’m glad of that, my lord,” Kei said stiffly. “May I ask if that’s why you wanted to see me?” “No, it wasn’t, not directly. I wanted you as a witness, actually. Arman, I have something for you.” He reached into one of his desk drawers and drew out a document which he handed to Arman. Puzzled, Arman read it, then handed it to Kei. The Ruler raised an eyebrow at his lack of reaction. “Hmmm. I thought you would be pleased to be discharged, Arman.” “I am, my lord. But nothing can erase the crime, or my dishonour. I thank you for allowing me a way at least to carry out my sentence in a fashion which served Darshian.” Lord Meki shook his head. “Arman, Arman.... You must come to an accommodation with your past if your future is to hold any happiness. Isn’t that right, Kei?” “Only what I’ve been telling him, my lord. Arman, the sentence isn’t meant to erase your guilt. It’s meant to help you and the community heal the breach between you.” “Tell that to the father of the boy I killed.” Kei sighed. “Jik could take the path towards forgiveness and healing just as Seya and the village have. It’s there, waiting for him. But he can’t be forced down it. You aren’t responsible if he wants to hold onto his hate.” Arman profoundly disagreed with Kei on this point, but he didn’t want to discuss it in front of the Ruler. “Thank you, my lord, regardless. I will be at your disposal for another couple of weeks, possibly as long as a month.” “Oh, I want a good deal longer than that, my dear fellow,” Lord Meki said, looking rather pleased with himself. “I want you here permanently. Will you accept a position as my assistant?” Kei gasped a little, but Arman was already shaking his head. “No. I’m sorry, my lord, I regret I cannot. Kei wants to return to his home, and where he goes, I go.” But Lord Meki seemed completely unconcerned. “Thought you’d say that. As it happens, the Master of the academy has told me that he’ll be offering our young healer a senior lecturer’s position, available immediately. I was asked,” he said, smiling tightly, “to put the offer as firmly as I could. They want you here, Kei. The salary isn’t particularly generous, but there is a private apartment, and all found. What do you say?” Kei sat like a man who’d been hit over the head with a hammer. “M...my lord...me?” “Oh yes, you. Very much you. The feelings of our Gifted friends have also been made very clear to me, though I could not in conscience allow them to offer you a position as a pet, which I believe Reis thought might be suitable.” Kei smiled at that. “Uh, no. Enjoyable though that would be. My lord...thank you, but I....” He turned to Arman, his eyes pleading. “I can’t,” he said quietly. “I need to go home.”
“My lord...this is too much to decide this afternoon. Kei’s family, his clan, all need to be consulted.” The Ruler harrumphed. “Yes, yes, of course, do you take me for a fool? I’m simply giving you the choice. Naturally you need to talk. But don’t make your country wait too long,” he added sternly. “No, my lord,” Kei said, pulling himself up straight. “But I serve my country as a healer whether it’s here or in my village. You won’t persuade me by attempting to portray Darshek as more worthy than Ai-Albon.” Arman suppressed a grin at Kei’s determined speech. Lord Meki was serene in the face of it, however. “I’m not, I assure you, young man. If you cure a man or woman in your village, that is a good and noble thing. If you teach a dozen healers well, so they can go back to their villages and cure a man or woman each, then that is a good and noble thing a dozen times over. You’re a gifted healer, Kei. But you are even more gifted, so they tell me, as a researcher and a teacher.” Now if Lord Meki had stopped there, Arman thought, he might have convinced Kei on the spot. But he continued. “Don’t forget, your choice will determine what Arman will choose as well—and that is just as essential to this country’s welfare.” Arman almost groaned as Kei’s fine eyebrows drew together in a frown. “So am I being offered this as a bribe, my lord? A way of keeping me happy because your real desire is Arman’s presence? If that’s the case, you can—” “Kei,” Arman said hastily, laying a hand on his lover’s arm to forestall an irretrievable insult. “That’s not why the offer was made. They really don’t work like that here.” “No, indeed we do not,” Lord Meki said, rather huffily. “Go ask the Master himself. I had only been planning to find you a suitable position as a healer in one of the city infirmaries, as befitted your training. I assure you, the offer from the academy has nothing to do with me. They’re independently minded, that lot. They wouldn’t tolerate such interference, or haven’t you noticed the nature of the people you’ve been working with for six months? Well?” “No, I suppose not,” Kei muttered, though he sounded less than convinced. “My lord—perhaps I could take the rest of the day off so we can think about it?” “Of course you can. You’re now under no obligation to me or anyone else, Arman. You may do as you choose now for the rest of your life, which I hope will be a long and happy one.” Arman bowed. “Thank you, my lord. Come on, Kei.” Kei made a sketchy bow but the scowl didn’t abate. As soon as they were outside the office, he shook off Arman’s arm and stalked down the corridor towards the foyer. “Where are you going?” “Outside. I need fresh air.” The sharp tone and the irritated line to Kei’s back warned Arman to wait, just a little, until his lover had a chance to calm down. When he finally caught up with him at the far end of the extensive gardens, Kei was kneeling by a flower bed, morosely examining a rather beautiful orange flower—as it
happened, a plant from Kuprij. One of the benefits of peace. He came and sat down on the grass close, but not too close, to Kei, and stayed quiet. Kei remained silent too, but his fingers, caressing the long petals and furry leaves, shook ever so slightly. It was more than ten minutes before he heaved a sigh and turned to look at Arman. “Now I’ll never know if the offer was for me or for you.” “You, of course.” But Kei shook his head. “It’s you. It’s been you for nearly two years. He’s been plotting to get you here since he met you, and why wouldn’t he? Kuprij’s finest general, a wonderful tactician, planner, engineer....” Arman reached over and touched Kei’s hand. “Healer, teacher, researcher.... I don’t know why it’s so hard to believe you would be wanted for your own enormous gifts.” “Because he doesn’t care about that. He’s all about roads and harbours and supply routes and ships and—” “No, you’re wrong, completely wrong, Kei. Lord Meki is a decent, kind man and I don’t want you slandering him that way. He really cares about people, about you, me, the people of this country. I admire him very much.” Kei stared in surprise. “You want to work for him.” “Given a completely clear choice, yes. But my duty is to you and only you, for now, for always. I have but one master until the day I die, and were you to accept his offer only for my sake, I would refuse to come. Were you to accept against my heart, I would come. Do you understand?” Kei nodded mutely. “I’m being childish?” “No. He was tactless. But he wasn’t lying to you—didn’t your gift tell you that?” “Couldn’t tell,” he muttered. “I was just so angry, I couldn’t sense anything.” “Ah. Well, when you are less angry, perhaps you should talk to him again. He admires you. I’ve never met a man more straightforward, and less patient with fools. He wouldn’t want you anywhere near him if he didn’t think you were an asset.” “Unless it brought you along.” Arman shook his head, moved closer and put his arm around Kei’s waist, leaning his chin on his lover’s shoulder. “Not going to win this one, am I?” “Not today, no. Myka would kill me. Fedor...Mis...Arman, I miss them,” he said, turning soulful eyes on Arman. “I can’t.” “Then you can’t and that’s an end to it.” “Damn you, Arman! Stop being reasonable at me!” Arman bit his lip, but wasn’t very successful at hiding his grin. Kei glared for a few moments, but couldn’t hold it. His generous mouth twisted into a wry smile. “Now I am being childish.”
“Mmmm, just a bit. It’s allowed. We have time to think. At least until Reji arrives, and even then, as long as you want. We need to go back anyway—I promised you we’d be home for the night of the ancestors and I want that. It’s important for both of us.” “Yes, it is,” Kei said solemnly. “It’s that almost more than anything which makes me hesitate, you know. Not being able to join in the clan’s activities, not being part of their memories, not being part of the history of my family. It’s bad enough I can’t continue my parents’ line, but to forsake it completely....” “You wouldn’t be. Wherever you are, you would be a true part of that. No one ever said the history of Keiji and Erte had to be written in Ai-Albon. They would be very proud of you, whatever you do and wherever you do it. My father taught me that,” he added quietly. “Ironic, don’t you think?” “I always thought he couldn’t have been all bad as a parent. Look at how you turned out,” Kei said, looking at him with loving eyes, before moving in to kiss him on the lips. “Sorry.” “No need. Why don’t we go for a swim? And maybe Neka can see if we’d be welcome at the House of the Gifted tonight? I know they’ll want to spend time with you.” “She was bending my ear about it earlier, so yes.” He got to his feet and offered a hand to Arman. “Cowardly of me, not to want what you accepted so easily? Leaving your home, your family, your career?” “You gave me more than I lost. A hundred times more. I have not a single regret,” he said firmly. “Not one, not ever, not for any reason at all. Your situation is different, so don’t make the comparison. You have to decide what is best for you.” “And for you. Damn you both—you’re throwing it all back on me!” “And would you be happier if I made the decision? You don’t like being ordered about!” “Grrrr. I need a swim. I’m tired of pissing Rulers, and pissing Darshek and the pissing academy and....” “And?” Arman was curious as to what could have been left out of his damnations, since he had been so thorough. “And...leave me alone!” “As you wish,” Arman murmured. Kei didn’t get in a temper very often, but it was always worth respecting his boundaries when he did. Besides, Lord Meki had not handled it well, and Arman, admiring the man profoundly though he did, had to admit he wasn’t always the best at handling people. He should have known Kei would always be slightly standoffish with him, the result of past mistakes. Oh well. What was done was done. Curiously, there was no sense of release, of the freedom that had been given to him. His life was still pending, and would not be decided for weeks, months. He had his own views about what was best for the two of them, but he would not ever express them to Kei. This had to be a completely free decision, because it would be one his lover would have to live with for a long time. They both would.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Freely Given: 3 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Kei had many opportunities to curse Lord Meki afresh over the next few weeks. Arman refused to be drawn on what he thought they should do, and since Kei himself had insisted they keep the whole thing secret until they—he—had decided what to do, he couldn’t even discuss it with their friends, nor with Reji when he came to collect them. Reji knew something was up, and Kei would have been amazed if his shrewd former lover hadn’t made a good guess as to what, but he said nothing, and only talked about how glad he would be to have them home, and how much he was enjoying his domestic life. Jena and Karik clearly occupied much of Reji’s thoughts these days, and though it caused Kei a jealous twinge or two, he was glad for his friend’s sake. If anyone deserved happiness, Reji did. “I just never saw you as a family man,” Kei confessed as he and Reji broke camp. Arman was harnessing the beasts on the second cart with Lori, making only his third trip as Reji’s driving partner. Kei’s cousin and adopted brother wasn’t enjoying it much, he’d confessed. Reji would have to recruit someone else if he wanted a permanent assistant. “Nor I, but then that’s hardly surprising. You don’t resent it?” Reji asked, keeping his voice low. “I mean...Karik might have been....” “But he’s not,” Kei said firmly. “And I’m very happy for you and Jena. I tell you, Rei-ki, the day you brought her home to the village, was one of the best days of my life.” “And mine. Gods, I love her. It seems every day I love her more.” Kei grinned at him. “I know how you feel. It’s terrifying, but it’s wonderful too.” And how much more wonderful to have a son. A family, all of one’s own. Not that Arman wasn’t enough—but perhaps it would have been even more satisfying...? He wrenched his thoughts away from that line of thinking, because it wasn’t fair to Reji or Arman. He had much to be thankful for, much to be content with. And he was going home, where he had longed to be all those dark, horrifying months in Utuk, and the uncertain time that had followed. “Do you think Myka will have kept any beer for me, or will Banji have drunk it all?” “Well, you know our Banji-ki—the man’s a walking stomach when it comes to your sister’s beer,” Reji said, grinning widely as he considered their friend. “But I believe she might have mentioned something about a special brewing in honour of your return. Perhaps I misheard, and it was a special spanking she was planning.” “Sounds more like Myka,” Lori said, coming up behind them. “Didn’t she say something about wringing Kei’s neck for abandoning her for so long?”
“I do recall something along those lines. Now, everyone, let’s move out. The daylight’s awasting.” They switched partners around, to keep things interesting. Some days Kei drove with Reji, others with Lori. Arman took his turn at driving too, and was, unsurprisingly, as competent at it as he was at everything else he put his hand to. But however they had made up the pairs during the day, at night, around the fire, Kei always ended up at Arman’s side, one strong arm clasping him possessively tight against Arman’s hard body. From time to time Reji grinned at their showing so much affection, but Kei could sense no jealousy—just pleasure and approval. From Lori, there was only curiosity—he hadn’t been in the village during the invasion, and had no negative associations with Arman, for which Kei was grateful. Most of the village accepted Arman now—there were one or two pockets of hostility and suspicion, but surprisingly little of either, considering. There was no doubt that if they chose to make Ai-Albon their permanent home, Arman would fit right in. It would make life a little easier for their other Prij—Vikis, Kesa, and baby Karik—if Arman was accepted there. But was that a good enough reason to keep Arman in such a narrow world? He simply couldn’t make up his mind, and he came to different conclusions from hour to hour. Arman said nothing about it for several days as they travelled, but finally, one night, as they kept watch together in the early hours, wrapped in blankets in front of the campfire, he spoke his mind. “If this is going to torment you, then perhaps I should simply say I don’t want to go to Darshek and put an end to it.” “But that’s not true and it still doesn’t answer the question of where my own duty lies. So we’re no better off than we were.” He sighed and nuzzled Arman’s bristly cheek—his lover did his best, but shaving was difficult on the trail, and Kei had told him not to bother. In a way, he missed that amazing beard, but Arman had some odd points of honour and the beard was one of them. Darshianese men did not wear beards, so he would not—he was surprisingly adamant on the issue. Just one of the little quirks that made Arman so fascinating. “I want to be happy, but I want to serve as well.” “You’ll serve wherever you are. Don’t torture yourself. Can I ask a favour?” “Anything, you know that,” Kei said, snuggling closer into Arman’s embrace. This was nice, he thought contentedly. Maybe they could be Reji’s permanent driving partners and spend nights on the trail, holding each other, entirely alone in their own world. Of course, it got pissing cold on the trail at night, so it wasn’t always so romantic, but this was good. “What do you want?” Arman’s hand stole under his shirt, and Kei shivered a little at his cool fingers though he loved the touch. “Stop thinking about this. Put it aside completely until we get back, even until after the night of the ancestors. Concentrate on this time, on being home. Throw yourself into it, fully enjoy it. It’s the only way you can truly decide if you can give it up.” “How can I stop thinking about it? It’s the biggest decision I’ll ever make.” “Mmmm, yes. But it will still be there in a month and a half. And in the meantime...perhaps I could...distract you?” Suddenly he bore down on Kei, pushing him flat. “Don’t you think?” he asked with a disgustingly triumphant grin.
“Arman! We can’t have sex while....ooh....Arman...Reji....” Gods, it was hard to concentrate when Arman licked his.... “Reji’s not listening, or he won’t be if you keep quiet, you annoying child.” He made his point by silencing Kei’s protests with his wonderful mouth. Gods, the man had learned how to kiss. But Kei still had to try to make his point. “Arman,” he sputtered as soon as his lips were set free. “We can’t.” “And who says? Who had sex with me in front of fifty sailors, hmmm? Who keeps telling me there’s no shame in sex?” “But carchos....” “Can watch if they like. Now....” Arman’s hand made an extremely impertinent movement, and Kei gasped with pleasure. “Well?” “Oh...shut up....”
~~~~~~~~ Within a day of their return, it was as if they’d never been away. Kei’s room was exactly as he’d left it, and he had been deeply moved as he had walked through the library again, touching the books that had been his parents’, and now were his and Myka’s. Old friends, beloved friends, joined by new ones from Jena’s collection, and those sent to Myka and Kei both by colleagues in Darshek and elsewhere. The treatment room was just the same—clean, efficiently laid out, and well stocked with all the common remedies, he noted approvingly. Myka and Jena had arranged things between them and by all reports, were working well together. Kei wondered if he was even needed any more. But Jena had a child to look after, and research of her own, so she would be glad not to be a fulltime healer. Her contentment with her lover, her son and her new home, was a delight to feel, and her joy at his return was completely unalloyed. She’d insisted he spend all his first morning with her, telling her all the gossip, while Arman got reacquainted with Vikis’s workshop and Myka made her rounds. Kei held Karik as they talked, and admired how much he’d grown. “He’s such a pretty baby,” he said, letting the child hold onto his braid and wincing from time to time as it was heartily yanked. “I’ve seen more than a few and he’s definitely the fairest in every sense.” “Sweet-tempered too. Meis keeps telling me I have it easy, haven’t I, darling,” she said, tickling her son under his chin and making him gurgle, his fat fists waving in the air with delight. “Now—when are you going back?” Kei blinked. “Back? To Darshek? Who says I am?” “Reji. And me. And Neka too—she says all the academy were wild to keep you there, and she was sure you were offered a job. Did you?”
“None of your business,” Kei said, trying not to lose his temper. “I’m home and that’s all that matters. I’ve spent long enough away, and I just want some peace and quiet. Or do you just want to get rid of me?” “No, of course not,” she said, leaning over and quickly kissing his cheek. “We missed you terribly —Myka tried to hide it, but she really felt it. And Reji too. Damn it, Kei, I only moved to Ai-Albon because of you.” “Not for Reji?” “Not entirely,” she said firmly. “Back then, not even mostly, and you know it, you rotten tease. But the academy, Kei—what an opportunity! Did you really hate it? All of it?” He sighed, and handed Karik back to her since he was looking for his mother and Kei didn’t want him to cry. “Not all of it. I missed our house, and all of you. Gods, Jena, it was like being in Utuk sometimes. Don’t you remember? Literally sick with the pain of missing everyone?” “I remember,” she said quietly. “But it surely wasn’t really like being a prisoner.” “No, though it was a little like it sometimes. We had the tiniest room for the two of us, and we couldn’t cook for ourselves, or even do our own laundry. Lord Meki said we could have a proper apartment though.” “So you did get an offer. Are you going to tell Myka?” “No, not yet—and neither are you,” he said, wagging his finger. “I’m still thinking about it. Damn it, I just got back. Let me enjoy it for a whole day, please. And there’s no point worrying Myka when I’m not sure what I want to do myself.” “I won’t say anything, I promise. Reji and I have talked about it, but it’s only between the two of us.” She looked at him seriously. “If it’s any consolation, in your position, I’d have no idea what to do either.” “Thanks very much, that really helps,” he said, but smiled because she was only trying to help. “Enough of this. Tell me about this new dressing you’re trying out.” And so the morning, and the day, and then the weeks passed. Kei was busy, welcomed, happy and determined to do as Arman had asked, to throw himself wholeheartedly into his life in the village. It was his favourite time of year, which helped—the end of the harvest, close to the start of autumn, a time of plenty, of activity and life and fun. Just as in the year before, Arman was dragged into all the cleaning and preparations for the night of the ancestors, and there were days when Kei didn’t see him at all because he’d been hauled off to work on some task or another. He had built himself a reputation as a willing and uncomplaining worker, someone with height and brawn and wit, so was much in demand for the heavy jobs—house repairs, furniture moving, shifting stores, even butchering the beasts and jombekers that would be smoked and stored for the winter. Kei, Jena and Myka were also preparing for the winter, harvesting herbs, making up essences from those which could not be used in their dried form, extracting oils, pounding seeds, and treating the stream of minor injuries that inevitably accompanied all the domestic activities.
But there was still time to talk, to gossip, to revel in the luxury of familiar company and friendship, quiet moments when Kei could enjoy his family, old and new. It was during one such quiet moment that he learned that his family was about to change again. They had been so busy, and Myka had been working away from the house since she said Kei could handle any patients who walked in, so he had mostly only seen her in the evenings. But this day, they were all in the library, discussing whether the academy’s latest advice about the treatment of deep cuts was sound or not, and Kei noticed that Myka’s colour was...different. He took a closer look at her body, noted the minute changes in her posture, the shape of her face, her skin—and her mood. “Sister mine—how’s the baby making going?” Her deep flush would have been enough of an answer, if Jena’s slap on his arm was not. “Oh....you!” his friend said irritably. “We were keeping it as a surprise until after the feast!” “Why? And is it true?” He got up and put his arms carefully around his sister’s waist, and looked into her eyes. “Are you pregnant?” “Yes, but how on earth...oh, never mind, Ma always said you had a nose for such things.” He kissed her cheek. “Sorry to spoil your surprise, but this is wonderful news. How far along?” “Three months. We didn’t want to say anything until we were sure it would take.” Her smile, now the secret was out, was radiant, and he couldn’t believe he hadn’t noticed before that she was blooming in the classic manner of the expectant woman. “I was hoping you would be here when it was born.” He refused to look across her head at Jena, but he could feel his friend looking at him. “Of course I will be,” he said lightly, then kissed her again. “Congratulations, Mychichi. I just wish Ma and Pa could be here to know about it too.” “I wish they were here anyway,” she said quietly. “I’ve been missing them so much this year. It was worst while you were away, Kei.” “I know. Me too. But now is not the time for sadness, sister. When are you going to announce it? Fedor will be beside himself with happiness, Sira too. I’m surprised Banji has kept the secret—or doesn’t he know?” he asked suspiciously. “Oh, don’t be an idiot, Kei, of course he knows. But he agreed not to tell anyone either. We were thinking of maybe a couple of days after the night of the ancestors?” “Why not that night, Myka? It would be fitting, and we could drink to the baby’s health.” She jabbed him in the ribs. “Like you need an excuse for that, brother mine.” “Excuse for what, Myka? Hello, Kei, I see she’s beating you up again.” Banji was grinning as he walked into the room. “And you’re all getting out of the chores.” “Oh, sit on a thurl’s nest, Banji-ki,” Myka said, making no attempt to maintain the dignity of a wife or a mother to be. “My nosy brother has worked it out.” “Oh. Er. Are you mad at us, Kei?” Banji asked, wringing his hands a little.
Kei let his sister go and went over to his friend. “Furious,” he said with a mock scowl, then pulled Banji into a hug. “Congratulations. Both of you. I was just saying to Myka that I wish our parents could be here, because they would be so happy for you.” “Banji, he thinks we should tell everyone at the feast. Jena, what do you think?” She held up her hands. “Whatever you want, darling. It’ll be wonderful news whenever they hear it.” “Well, why not do it then?” Banji said. “Yes, let’s get Fedor to announce it. It’ll make him happy.” He came over and clasped his wife around her waist. “Though not as happy as I am, love.” “Huh, let’s see if you’re saying that when the baby’s teething,” Jena said, but she was grinning too. “Speaking of babies, I better go and see what Reji’s done with our boy. Probably fed him to the jombekers or something like that. Kei, you and Arman with us for supper.” “Yes, lady Jena,” he said with a deep bow and a wink at his sister. “Can I tell Arman? Please?” “Oh, like you have any secrets from him. Of course—but no one else,” she said sternly. “Don’t spoil things.” “I promise. Now I better go find Arman and tell him to come home for his lunch.” “Sounds like our cue to make that lunch,” Banji said cheerfully. “Come on, wife—I’m going to get full measure out of you before you get too fat to...ouch!” “Too fat to...?” Myka said sweetly, still holding onto the braid she had yanked so hard, it had made Kei’s eyes water in sympathy. “Kei, remind him about the old saying about not upsetting healers, will you?” “She’s got you, Banji, sorry. If not by the braid, it’ll be by the balls. Glad she’s your problem and not mine any more,” he said over his shoulder, skipping out smartly before his fiery-tempered sister could exact revenge. But she’d make him pay for it later anyway—she always did.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Freely Given: 4 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Kei’s news had delighted him, and the lunch that had followed with his sister and her husband had been a happy occasion, full of laughter and jokes and plans for the house which would need extending to accommodate a child, or possibly more. But that made it all the more puzzling to find Kei later that afternoon, in his favourite spot by the big waterhole, jabbing fiercely at the ground with a stick and clearly distressed about something. “What’s wrong?” Arman asked without ceremony, joining his lover on the log he was using as a seat. “Did you have a fight with someone?” “No. Just....” Arman was shocked to see Kei’s eyes filling with tears—and more than that, he’d already been crying. Arman put his arm around him and pulled him close. “It’s all right,” he murmured. “Whatever it is, we’ll fix.” “Can you fix me being infertile, Arman? Can you give me a family? Can you bring my parents back from the dead? Leave me alone,” he snapped, struggling out of Arman’s grip. But Arman wouldn’t let him go. “Stop it. Calm down, damn it!” At his angry command, Kei covered his face and turned away. “I’m sorry I yelled. Shhh, calm down,” he said in a far more gentle voice, rubbing Kei’s back. “I thought you were happy about the baby.” “I am. But...it’s all....” He just buried his face in Arman’s shoulder, his body shaking, racked by grief. All Arman could do was hold on, and wonder how he could possibly console his lover for pain that had no answer, losses he could never restore. A movement across the water made him look up. Reji. Damn it. He was sure Kei wouldn’t want his friend to see him like this, but he couldn’t easily signal to the man before Reji got so close that the gesture was pointless. “Arman? Kei? What’s going on?” He came over, frowning. Kei went still, face still hidden—Arman could feel him trying to get himself under control. “Keichichi? Jena told me about you guessing about Myka...oh.” “Oh?” Arman asked. “Kei, please—just talk to me. Reji, maybe you should leave us....” But Reji shook his head. “It’s all right, Arman. I know what this is. Kei, come on, look at me.” “Go away, Reji, I’m just being an idiot again.” “No, you’re not. Damn it, you don’t think I never felt like this? You don’t think every time one of my friends announced they were having a baby, I didn’t go off and kick something hard?” Kei lifted his head and sniffled. “But now you’re a father after all.”
“Yes,” Reji said bluntly. “And that just makes it worse for you. I’m sorry.” “But I should be happy! It’s my own sister, damn it! And I am happy!” “Yes. And jealous as hells too. I know what it’s like. I felt just the same when my sister had her son. But it passes too, you know. Because being an uncle is pretty good too, and you don’t have to change the nappies.” Kei made a choked little laugh. “I don’t mind nappies.” “You would if you’d seen what Karik produces when he’s teething. Keichichi, being an uncle is almost as important as being a father, you know. There’ll be times when Karik is going to need you—” “Karik?” Kei said, startled, and even Arman was surprised. “Well, yes. You’re my little brother so that makes you his uncle. Unless you don’t want to be?” Reji asked, looking suspiciously innocent. “Uncle? You mean...already?” Kei sniffled again but his eyes were not longer sad but rather puzzled—and a little hopeful. Arman passed him a handkerchief, and sent his silent gratitude to Kei’s clever friend for the inspiration. “Yes, of course. Jena and I were going to ask you to agree to be official guardian, you know, just in case. Fedor already knows that’s what we want.” “But...what if I go to Darshek again?” Reji didn’t even pretend he didn’t know what Kei was talking about, Arman noted. “What difference does it make? My Ma is still his grandma, though she lives in Ai-Darbin. Myka’s his aunt, you’re his uncle. My boy’s going to have a big family, just like you will. You’ll have nieces and nephews, and brothers and cousins, people claiming you in every direction. You were the one who taught me family didn’t have to be blood. Arman, what do you think?” Arman cleared his throat. “I think any child with Kei as an uncle would be very fortunate, Reji. The most important person in my life growing up wasn’t my father, but my teacher. Uncles, teachers, friends, all make an important contribution. Though it’s a disappointment not to have children of one’s own blood, it’s not a tragedy. Karus had none, and yet his legacy lives on and will do as long as any of his students survive and pass on his teaching.” “I just thought...I was feeling cut off,” Kei murmured. “And being a fool,” he added with a rueful smile. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what’s wrong with me lately. I get upset so easily.” Reji tapped his own temple. “Forgetting something, were we, my soul-touching friend? Been doing your control exercises lately?” “Oh...er...well, there’s been a lot to do.” “Kei.” “Yes, tell him off, Reji. Kei, you know what Master Bikel told you,” Arman said sternly, though he squeezed Kei’s shoulders with the arm he still had protectively around him. “And this has been an emotional day, an emotional time for you. You have to take care of yourself. I need you.”
“We all need you,” Reji said. “Me, Jena, Myka, Banji, Mis—Karik. So you can’t afford to forget to keep your gift under control. You’ve got family to think about, you know.” “Yes, Reji,” Kei said meekly, wiping his eyes again. “Gods, I feel like an idiot.” “No, you’re not. I take it that you still don’t know whether you’re going back to Darshek?” “No. I can’t make up my mind.” Reji glanced at Arman. “I know it’s hard. But whatever you decide, Jena and I will be right there to support you, I promise. Now, you two—I was looking for you because I’ve got a couple of beasts I want to exercise and train to the saddle. Feeling like a challenge?” “I do,” Arman said. “Kei?” “Sounds perfect.” Reji held out his hand to the pair of them and pulled them up easily—Arman was always slightly surprised at Reji’s deceptive strength. “You really felt like this? You never showed it.” “I really did. I’d be surprised if there’s a gifted anywhere in Periter who doesn’t, Kei. It’s why the normals really don’t get it.” “We try,” Arman said. “But I made a choice to be childless. It makes a difference.” “Yes, it does,” Kei said bleakly, but then he made an effort to cheer up. “Well, come on. I want to see what a mess you’ve made of training those animals, Rei-ki,” then he dodged the cuff Reji aimed at his insolent head. He bolted away, and Reji set off in hot pursuit, threatening retribution. Arman let them have their fun, and their time together. But he couldn’t help but worry if Kei would really be able to reach some kind of peace within himself over all this. He would have to spend some time having a serious talk to Jena and Reji about what it was like to be gifted. After all, winning a battle demanded a general knew the field of combat, and the nature of the fight he had to face.
~~~~~~~~ Kei took the lesson of his minor emotional collapse to heart, and spent much of the day before the feast off on his own, reinforcing his control, and practicing the exercises he’d been taught. It still hurt —Reji said it always would, a little. But Reji also said he would find compensations for his pain, and Kei was already discovering the truth of that. Even looking at Karik with the dignity of his new title, gave him a burst of pleasure he hadn’t expected at all. He was already very fond of the baby—but now the boy was his nephew.... Reji had been serious too, and so was Jena—all three of them had had a meeting with Fedor about it, and though no announcement would be made, his position as fall back parent was now set. Not that Kei ever wanted to have to assume that position, but the trust placed in him still eased the ache a little. And looking forward to his sister being a mother was also a joy. She would be a wonderful parent, both of them would be, and though he would never cease to regret his Ma and Pa would not see it, it
pleased him deeply their gifts would be passed down to Myka’s children. Just the happiness radiating from Myka was enough to cheer him, after he got over his own selfish tantrum. He felt ashamed Arman had seen that, and that Reji had. But neither of them had judged him, or told him he was being foolish, and though he judged himself a fool, they accepted his right to his temporary idiocy. Now, calmer, in control, and genuinely happy to be with his friends and family—all his family—as they joined in the solemn remembrance of departed loved ones, and the joyful celebration of the clan, united by bonds of love and memory, he felt himself to be truly fortunate. It was too easy to think of what he could not have, and yet, as he watched Arman having an animated argument with Rin about something or other, with Misek listening, a slight smile on his scarred features, as he sipped Myka’s beer and ate Meis’s cakes, and as people surrounded Myka and Banji to congratulate them, he knew he had more than many people. He had a home, he was loved, and he was wanted. That would not change, wherever he lived. He deliberately extended his gift that night, immersing himself in the happiness, the friendship, the shadows here and there of those with recent grief for whom this night was still a little raw. He let himself savour the innocent enjoyment of the children, even the well-fed contentment of little Karik, dozing placidly in Reji’s arms. He felt Fedor’s joy at Myka’s news, Rin and Meis contemplating their first grandchild, Misek wondering if he too would ever marry and be a father. He walked through the crowd, being greeted and claimed as one of their own, being fed by their emotions and giving back in turn, telling them in his heart that he missed them, that he loved them, that he would always serve them. Arman found him eventually, coming to kiss him on the cheek, then looking at him carefully. “Are you all right?” “Yes, I am. Arman, can we go back to the house? I want to talk to you alone.” “Of course. I think people are finishing up anyway.” Actually, it would probably go on for an hour or two, but Kei had spoken to everyone and greeted people properly, and if he stayed, he would only drink rather too much of Myka’s good ale. He took Arman’s hand and led him through the throng back to the house. The door closing behind them cut down the sound of the festivities—the relative silence made his ears ring a bit. The clan could be so noisy when it was happy. “Go and wash up,” he told Arman. “We can talk in bed.” There had been no time for a bath that night, with everything that needed to be done, but they were both clean, and for once, Kei was happy to forgo the luxury of a bath just so he could spend more time cuddling with Arman. Besides, it was always possible Myka and Banji might come back with friends and interrupt them, and Arman wasn’t that sanguine about being seen bare-arsed by the villagers. It was Arman’s right and pleasure, so he always insisted, to be the one to undress Kei wherever possible, and since Kei never objected to Arman having his hands on him, he let his lover have his way. It was equally Kei’s right and pleasure to watch his man undress—such a beautiful backside, he thought, sighing. And those legs....
“You know, maybe I should have kept you dressed until after we’d talked,” he said, grinning as Arman came to sit by him on the bed. “Because now I can only think of one thing.” “As it should be,” Arman said with a smirk, bearing him down flat and kissing him thoroughly with lips that tasted deliciously of gren nuts and beer. He brought his hand up and toyed gently with one of Kei’s nipples, which sent Kei quietly wild with delight. “So what did you want to talk about?” “S...stop doing that if you want to know! Oh...Arman, stop it,” he said, brushing the teasing hand away, and clasping it firmly before it could distract him again. “I’ve made my decision.” “Here? Tonight? Are you sure?” Arman asked, golden brows frowning. “Yes. I want to go back to Darshek—so long as you really do want to work for Lord Meki. Only...now I’m not sure. Damn it—it was all clear in my head a minute ago!” Arman rolled back then sat up against the headboard, tugging Kei up to rest against him. “Tell me why you decided to go, and then what’s made you uncertain again.” “Well...I realised, seeing everyone tonight...I could leave them, and they would be safe. I don’t have to feel I’m abandoning Myka, because there’s Jena. Reji has her too, and Karik, and Mis. Fedor has plenty of people to make sure he’s looked after. I won’t be deserting them.” “But what about you? And missing them?” “I can always talk to them through Neka and Jena, and Reji said he and Jena would be coming up to Darshek from time to time. But then I remembered that I’d promised Myka I’d be here to deliver her baby, and I started thinking about the night of the ancestors and it suddenly didn’t sound like such a good idea anymore.” Arman grunted, and held him closer, but didn’t say anything. “Arman?” “Thinking. Hush.” “Oh.” Kei shut up, and contented himself with playing with the springy golden hairs on Arman’s broad chest. He made himself go no lower, because once he did that they really wouldn’t be able to concentrate. “Right,” Arman said finally. “Here’s my idea. I won’t accept Lord Meki’s offer—” “Arman?” “Hush. I won’t accept the offer of a paid position. Instead, I’ll ask him to provide us with a proper house and garden, not just an apartment in the academy. That way you won’t feel so deprived at losing this,” he said, indicating the room and the house around it, “and when Reji comes up, he can stay with us—so can your other friends and family. How does that sound?” “That’s genius,” Kei said, staring at his lover with frank admiration. “But will Lord Meki agree? And can we live on my salary? It won’t be very much.” “He said ‘all found’ so they’ll have to supply the necessities, or pay you more to cover them. And we hardly live in high style. I’d be happier not being paid. I feel it’s wrong to be rewarded, considering
my crimes.” Kei just sighed—Arman was so stubborn. “But as a second condition, I will insist on being allowed to return to Ai-Albon every year with you for the night of the ancestors. If he wants me badly enough, then maybe that’ll give him an incentive to fund the upgrading of that road to speed the journey times.” “You’re always plotting,” Kei said, astonished that Arman had come up with all this in five minutes of thought. “And Myka? Do you think they’ll let me come back for her? I promised I’d be there.” “I can’t see any good reason why not. They want you, and people do have obligations to families. You can make it a condition of taking up the job and if they don’t accept, we just stay here. But they’ll accept, you watch. Master Bikel pinned me down just before we left and bent my ear about you coming back to them.” “You never said,” Kei said reproachfully. “I didn’t think it was fair to,” Arman said. “So, with all that—what’s your decision?” “To go. But Myka will kill me.” “She’ll cope,” Arman said, kissing Kei’s forehead. “You forget—they want the best for you. If this is something that will be good for you and good for the country, they’ll accept it. Fedor has to agree, though.” “I think he will. The village can cope, and he’ll have the new baby to distract him.” Arman tilted Kei’s head up and looked deep into his eyes. “Myka’s child is not a replacement for you, not in anyone’s heart. Fedor wants you to fulfil your destiny wherever it lies. As do I, as does everyone who loves you. So...are we done?” “Yes. Why? Got plans?” “Hmmm, I might do,” he said, snaking his hand down between them, and putting his hand on Kei’s cock. “Feels like you might do too.” “Oh, I don’t know,” Kei said, grinning as he rolled onto his back. “I’m terribly tired. All that beer and thinking, you know.” Arman gave his cock a quick stroke, making him gasp a little. “I can imagine thinking would wear you out,” he said with a straight face. “I can think of much better uses for that organ,” he added as Kei stuck his tongue out at his rudeness. “Are you going to talk all night, general? Because I could go back to the party—I’m sure there were a few gren nut cakes left.” Arman pinned him in place with his hands firmly on Kei’s hips. “Sorry—I’ve got another delicacy in mind, and you’re already on my plate.” Kei laughed, and then gasped as Arman took him in. No more talking, he thought, losing himself in mindless pleasure. The decision was made—they just had to live with it now.
And somehow he knew, though there would always be regrets, the man now mercilessly licking and stroking him into ecstasy, would more than make up for them. All Kei had to do, he thought a little smugly, was lie back and let him do it.
The end