Falling From the Tree (Darshian Tales #2)

by Ann Somerville

  “Muh-murdered?”

  “Karik, I’m not sure this is something your parents would want you to be listening to—” Misek said, but Edi cut him off.

  “And why in hells not? If it was good enough for me and the rest of us to have to go through all that, and for those people from Ai-Vinri to die, why shouldn’t the boy hear about it? It was his people who did it, after all.”

  Karik flushed to the roots of his hair and would have walked off if it wouldn’t have been seen as a childish reaction. He just sat there staring at the fire and avoiding all eye contact as Risa stood up and glared at Edi. “He’s not a Prij. Karik is as Darshianese as you or me, Edi. Don’t blame him for his parents or his looks, and you’ve no right at all to blame him for anything to do with the war.”

  “Edi, I’d really appreciate it if you wouldn’t raise this in front of the lads,” Misek said in a calmer tone.

  “Oh, so it’s all right for me and the others to be hauled off to Utuk to save your lousy hides, and to be beaten and attacked and starved, be forced to watch ten people executed like curs, but you don’t want to soil your precious boy’s ears with it?” Edi was on his feet now, his temper roused. “You were sitting on your arse all nice and safe in Ai-Albon, and we nearly died—what gives you the right to tell me what to do or say? You think because you’ve got a Prij with you, that makes you something grand? When it was his people that raped that boy’s Ma, made her watch her friends take swords through the heart?”

  Risa went to throw a punch at Edi, but Misek grabbed him from behind. Fortunately, Edi’s friends had more sense than he did, restraining him from responding physically. Gyo made a distressed noise as he scrambled up and ran off into the dark. “Gyo!” Misek yelled as he struggled with his brother. “Karik, go after him!”

  But Karik was already on his feet and running after his friend. “Gyo! Stop!”

  His friend hadn’t run far—it was simply too dark to do that—and had come to rest by a tree near where the beasts were tethered. Karik found him pounding furiously at a tree, hitting it over and over again with clenched fists. Karik dragged him away from the tree into a hug. “Don’t, Gyo, it’s all r-right.”

  “Why?” Gyo yelled. “Why did all that happen to Ma?”

  “I don’t kn-know.”

  Nothing Karik said to him seemed to help, and so it was with relief that he felt a hand on his shoulder, and turned to find Misek there with a lamp. He handed the light to Karik and then took his son into his arms. Karik stepped back, feeling somewhat in need of Ma and a hug too, but trying not to show how angry and upset he was because there was enough of that going around already.

  “Karik.” He turned again and found Risa there, his mouth turned down in a grim line. “I’m sorry, lad. What he said—that was cruel and wrong.”

  Karik moved away from Misek, trying to talk to his son—Gyo was still yelling in a muffled way against his father’s shoulder. Risa followed, and put his hand on Karik’s shoulder. “Was it t-true? The muh-murders?”

  “Yes, so far as I know from what Kei and Jena have ever said. But just because he went through it doesn’t give him the right to blame you or slander you. You weren’t even born when all that happened.”

  “But M-Ma? She s-saw?”

  Suddenly the idea of his mother being forced to watch something so horrible was more than he could stand, and even though he tried to hold them back, tears spilled down his cheeks faster than he could scrub them away. Risa pulled him into a hug, and Karik hid his face on his sympathetic shoulder.

  “I know it’s upsetting, and by the gods, Edi needs a kick in the arse, but it was more than sixteen years ago. People have healed, moved on. I know—I was there too. It’s harder for the hostages, but not all of them have held onto their anger. Your Ma hasn’t, Pia hasn’t—Kei hasn’t, I know that.”

  “Ah-Arman was a m-murderer?”

  Risa stepped back a little, but kept a hand on his shoulder. “Your father explained that. He was a soldier. From what I heard, there were circumstances in Ai-Darbin that Arman can tell you better than me. Arman has never lied to me or anyone I know. Ask him. But don’t judge until you do. Don’t borrow Edi’s grudge.”

  Karik nodded, rubbing his eyes. That was only fair. At that moment, Misek and Gyo parted, and came over to them, Misek’s hand resting protectively on his son’s back. “G-Gyo? Yuh-you all ri-right?”

  His friend gave him a shaky smile. “I’m all right, Ka-chi. I just....” He brushed his arm against his eyes. “Just to kill people like that.... It’s awful,” he whispered.

  “Yes, it is, son,” Misek said gently. “Listen, those bastards can organise the watch tonight. I’ll share the wagon with Gyo—I want to be with my boy. Risa, you look after Karik.”

  “Sure, Mis.”

  Misek went back to speak to the other traders. Karik was glad he wouldn’t have to talk to them again that night. “R-Risa? C-can wuh-we share with M- Misek too?”

  “I can’t see why not, if there’s room. Gyo?”

  “Please, uncle Risa, I’d like that.”

  It took a little rearranging, and it was a bit of a squash, but there was an undeniable amount of comfort from lying close to Gyo and the others that night. Karik felt Gyo shaking. “G-Gyo?”

  Nothing for a moment, then Gyo fumbled about and then blew his nose. “I miss Ma and Keira,” he whispered back, sounding blocked up.

  “I kn-know.” All Karik could do was to comfort his friend, and hope the whole situation looked less overwrought in the morning.

  ~~~~~~~~

  Of course it did. It had to, since they had to spend at least four more days with the men from the other two villages unless they wanted to make a dramatic gesture, and Risa needed to keep on good terms with these people since he’d see them all the time in his job. Edi apologised rather clumsily to Karik for any offence given, and Karik accepted it, even though he knew that in his heart Edi still considered him a Prij and partly to blame for what had happened to him and his friends. Misek kept Gyo away from the others, and Risa hovered protectively around Karik, but it wasn’t really necessary. What Risa didn’t realise was that Karik was all too used to attitudes like Edi’s, and since the talk with his Pa, even the shocking revelations about the hostages’ deaths could be put under the heading of all the other bad things that had happened during the war.

  Descending the Kislik range took a tedious three days, after the excitement of seeing the distant ocean for the first time. They finally reached the bottom of the range with a couple of hours of daylight left. The other traders decided they would use the time to move their wagons closer to Darshek city. Misek and Risa preferred to camp where they were and make the final leg in the morning. Karik thought this was more for his and Gyo’s sake, and wished Risa would just do as he always did.

  It rained that night, and Karik wondered if Risa would have cause to regret the decision to delay, but the morning was bright and dry once again, far warmer than up on the plain, almost more like early summer than mid-winter. There was a spring in all their steps, even those of the beasts, knowing they were nearing journey’s end. The return would be a little faster, so Risa said. “The hardest bit’s over,” he said with satisfaction. “But you boys have made it so much easier—well done,” he said to them as they finished their breakfast.

  Gyo grinned. Now they had shed the others he seemed lighter in heart. Misek had been very patient and kind with him too. Karik had always liked the man, but after this trip, he saw why his father considered Misek to be his closest friend second possibly only to Kei, but only just. Even if Gyo’s real father had been a Ruler of Darshek, he couldn’t have had a better or a gentler man for his Pa. Except for Karik’s own Pa, of course, and Karik wasn’t prepared to give him up for anyone—not even Gyo.

  The rain clouds came back mid-morning, and showers marked the last two hours of their journey into Darshek. He barely noticed—there was so much to see. So many houses and farms, all the fields of strange crops and
fruit trees, the people in brightly coloured clothing hurrying past on foot or in small carts being drawn by strange looking, long-legged animals that Risa said were jesigs. “They started to come to Darshek after the war. Reji says he wants to breed them in his old age,” he said with a chuckle.

  They were pretty animals—long-necked and graceful, with short manes and glossy pelts in many shades from palest grey and blonde, to deepest black. He wanted to ride one very badly, and wondered if he would have the chance. But the jesigs were just one of the many new sights. Everywhere was so green and lush, the thick grass looking almost tasty enough for a human to eat. He’d never seen a landscape looking so fertile, not even Ai-Albon after a good summer rain.

  But the people—so many of them, all so busy. And so many huge buildings, storehouses and workshops, far bigger than any he’d ever seen. And as they drew closer to the city, a couple of odd structures with fierce-looking statues outside of them. “Wuh-what are they?” Karik asked, pointing.

  Risa grimaced. “Oh, those are Prijian temples,” he said disdainfully. “So they can worship their horrible gods.”

  “Wo-worship?” Karik had only heard the word used among friends, or by his parents, to mean to like something very much.

  “They think if they pray to their gods, they’ll have good luck.” Risa shrugged. “It’s all a load of rot if you ask me. Kei thinks they’re really funny.”

  Karik could only stare. The statue they were passing—an enormous man carrying a huge bird poised for attack— looked truly frightening. An unpleasant smell came from the temple. He didn’t dare ask what it was, but he suspected it wasn’t anything he wanted to know about.

  He still felt a little apprehensive about meeting Arman again, but only a little, and he was happy that the weeks of travelling were over. But they still weren’t done, and as Misek had warned, they still had to deliver their loads. They drove down to the docks, where Gyo and Karik frankly boggled at the huge ships waiting to be loaded with cargo, the people, the animals, and the smells. He hadn’t realised air could be so...busy. The worst stink he’d ever experienced up to then was a rotting jombeker carcass he’d found once. The docks were worse because it wasn’t a single nasty smell, but dozens all mixed together. “Is there s-something dead?” he asked Risa, who only laughed.

  “No, lad—just lots and lots of cargo from all over, and fruit going a little off. Someone needs to shift their stock.”

  Risa directed them to a huge warehouse where their companions from the trail were already halfway done with their unloading. There were plenty of men to help, but Gyo and Karik were pressed into service too.

  It took hours, and they still then had to deliver the wagons and beasts to a huge public stable for safekeeping. Gyo was drooping in the humid heat and with tiredness by the time that was done. “How far to Kei’s house?” he asked, hefting his pack and bedroll.

  “Oh, about four miles,” Misek said cheerfully. “They live right in the city itself, not far from the Rulers’ house and the academy. Pleasant little stroll, nothing more.”

  “Oh, Pa,” Gyo whined a little. “I can’t walk that far today.”

  Risa grinned. “He’s teasing, Gyo. It’s not even two miles and we’ll hitch a lift anyway. Come on, there are always carts and wagons going that way.”

  True to his word, they succeeded in hailing an empty cart that had just taken a load of melons to the docks. Risa and Misek chatted to the driver up on the driving seat, while Karik and Gyo rode in the back. Already they had seen many Prij, and some darker skinned people with slanted eyes who Misek said were from Andon. People from all over Periter lived in Darshek. Certainly no one gave Karik a second look—for the first time in his life, he was nothing special. He liked that feeling a lot.

  “Everything’s so tall,” Gyo said in an awed voice. “Look!”

  “That’s the academy,” Risa said as they stared at the huge white stone and brick building set right on the harbour side. “Where Kei works. And there’s the Rulers’ House—there’s a Ruler right there, wearing the dark red robes. See? Over there, getting into a carriage.”

  The boys goggled—this was one of the most powerful people in Darshian, people that villagers on the plains would never see unless they came to the city. “He looks pretty old,” Gyo said doubtfully.

  The driver chuckled. “Oh, that’s Lord Meki. He’s getting on a bit. The others are younger than him though. Right, men, this is where I have to let you off, I’m going south, and you want that direction,” he said, pointing east. “Know where you’re going?”

  “Yes, we do. Thanks for the ride.”

  “Any time. Enjoy your stay.”

  They had to walk about half a mile, through a pretty garden that Misek called a ‘park’, along well-made streets being swept clear of manure as they watched, and finally along a quiet road of houses. “Here we are,” Risa said. “I wonder if Kei’s home yet?”

  The question had no sooner left his lips than the front door opened and there stood uncle Kei, grinning hugely. “What in hells kept you?” he joked as he walked down the short path to greet them,

  Misek dropped his pack and let Kei pull him into a crushing hug. Risa was next and then Kei looked at Gyo. “Gods, Misek, what are you putting in the water down south! You’re enormous, lad.”

  Gyo grinned as Kei hugged him. “I’ll be nearly as tall as you one day,” he said.

  “That you might be, but you still have Arman to beat. And here’s Karik.” Kei pulled him close. His shirt smelled faintly of nitre weed and Karik wondered what he’d been doing. “How are you, Ka-chi?” he asked kindly.

  “I’m fuh-fine.”

  “And that good-for-nothing father of yours?”

  “S-sore. But he’s all r-right.”

  “Glad to hear it.” Kei kept his arm around Karik’s shoulders as he waved them towards his front door. “Well, don’t just stand there, come inside. Take your shoes off—we’ve got these stupid floors.”

  The house was like none Karik had ever seen, and looked huge, at least from the outside. Kei called out as they walked in and unlaced their boots in the hall behind the front door. “Pira? The trouble’s arrived!”

  A door opened ahead of them, and a grey-haired woman came out. She looked even older than Sira or Meis. “Welcome, welcome. I’m Pira, and don’t any of you start that shouting business, not like this rude creature.”

  Kei abandoned Karik to go and cuddle her. “Sorry, Ma. Gyo, Karik, this is Pira, the lovely lady who keeps us both under control, fed and clean. We don’t know what we’d do without her.”

  A friend? Kei seemed very fond of her. “N-nice to muh-meet you, P-Pira.”

  “You’re Karik? Kei told me what a good-looking lad you were,” she said, taking his hand. Huh, Karik thought. No doubt Kei had actually told her to expect a blond short-arse with a stutter. “I bet you could all do with tea and sweet cakes.”

  “Oh, yes,” Risa said with feeling. “Kei, can we dump our packs and sit? The lads are tired and so am I.”

  “Of course, Risa-ki. You’re in the usual room—all of you, I hope you don’t mind.”

  “Not at all, Kei. It’ll be good to sleep indoors again.”

  Kei lent them all soft slippers for wearing in the house, and once these were put on, led the way down a polished, wooden-floored corridor to a large room with two big beds in it. “I’ll let you lot fight over who sleeps with who. Just don’t try and crawl in with me and Arman, he doesn’t like to share.”

  “And I don’t like to listen to you snore, so that’s fine,” Misek said tartly. “How is he? And where is he?”

  Kei didn’t pause as he helped them arrange their packs. “Oh, he’s busy as usual. He’s been helping them with the harbour redevelopment. You know Lady Jilki died? It was her project, really, and he’s been picking up the pieces. He’ll be home before dark, or he should be.”

  “So how come you’re here?” Misek asked. “And how in hells did you know we would be here this afte
rnoon?”

  Kei grinned and tapped his temple. “Ah, I have friends in high places. You’ll meet some of them while you’re here, I hope. Risa, show the boys where to wash up, and then come through to the kitchen.”

  Risa took them to the washroom, and showed them where the earth closet was. It was a long house with many rooms, all with closed doors. As they passed a window, Risa pointed out Kei’s garden. “You’ll be interested in that, Karik. He’s making a special study of moulds. Right up your street.”

  His friend was making gentle fun, but Karik’s interest was immediately triggered. Ma was always talking about leaf and other moulds, how they were being used to fight infection—that must be what Kei was working on. Ma and uncle Kei wrote back and forth about medical matters, and they talked often via Ma’s friend, Neka. She must have told Kei they had arrived.

  After they had relieved themselves and washed hands, faces and necks, they followed Risa to the large kitchen that smelled wonderfully of baking and made Karik instantly homesick for Sira’s cooking. Kei greeted them warmly and told them to sit down, before setting a huge pot of tea and mugs down on the big table which, just like the one in Karik’s home, was where food was both prepared and eaten. So far, apart from the size of the house, it didn’t seem Kei lived all that grandly. More of Karik’s unease slipped away. This was just Kei and Arman. He’d known them all his life, seen them every year of his life. Any difficulties about Arman’s past—or Karik’s own—would surely be easily sorted out.

  Kei slipped in next to Karik on the long bench seat. “So, tell me about the trip. Any excitement?”

  “Nothing, except a broken wheel outside Ai-Kislik,” Risa said, taking a cake from the plate Pira set in front of them and giving her his thanks for it.

  Karik wondered why Risa hadn’t mentioned Edi. Kei turned to him. “Well, Ka-chi, how did you find your first trading trip?”

  He set his mug down. “Hard wuh-work,” he said emphatically.

  Kei laughed. “I bet it was, and Reji sure picked the worst run possible to get himself injured for. How did he manage that, Risa-ki?”