He came back on deck, staying out of the way of the sailors who were now heavily occupied trimming sails and working the ship up the long harbour. “We’ll be in dock in an hour. Are you happy now, Karik?”
He looked around. Gero was staring up at him with a worried, hopeful expression. “N-not really.”
“I’m sorry. Do you hate your home so much?”
“N-no. I love it.”
“Then what’s wrong? Did you leave someone behind in Utuk that you miss?”
“No.” Now the boy had pointed it out, his depression did seem unreasonable. But yet he still felt so sad, so hopeless. “Wuh-where is your h-home?”
“On the ship. The first mate’s my father. My Ma died two years ago.”
Like Jembis, Karik thought. He hadn’t thought of the other boy in weeks, and now wondered how he was getting on. “D-do you like the sh-ship?”
“Mostly. It gets boring, but I like being in Utuk. I have friends there.”
“Fr-friends? P-Prijian friends?”
Gero gave him a strange look. “Of course. Why is that wrong, Karik? You’re Prijian and I like you.”
“I’m n-not Prijian,” he snapped, and Gero cringed. “S-sorry. I...wuh-was born there. But I’m n-not.”
“Well, then you must be both Prijian and Darshianese. You can’t change who you were born to be, that makes no sense.”
One of the sailors called to Gero then and he hurried away with a quick apology, leaving Karik to ponder his words. In his heart, he felt himself to be Darshianese. But to everyone who saw him, he was just another Prij. Would he be happier if he stopped pretending being something he wasn’t? But he had had a taste of living like a Prij and had hated it. How much of that was being in that house, and how much was the culture itself, he didn’t know and didn’t want to repeat the experiment to discover.
He leaned on the rail and put his head in his hands. He wanted to talk to his father. Reji had a way of making things clear that Karik had often relied on, and an inner calmness he’d tried very hard to copy. But could his father—Reji—understand what Karik was feeling? The only person Karik knew of in the same situation was himself. Well, except Arman, and Arman’s position in Darshian was entirely different. Arman was that oddity, a Darshianese Prij, without the slightest conflict. But Karik had no Kei or Lord Meki to smooth his way.
He was told to stay away from the rail by a passing sailor, in case he was knocked into the harbour by the force of docking. The docks were as busy as that fateful day when he had innocently followed Jembis to see some baby animals. What a naïve fool he had been to have done that, but who could have foreseen such a thing? Even now, he couldn’t believe Jembis had done it, though he had long since forgiven the boy for the trick. Such a silly thing to have had such awful consequences. He remembered again about Urso, and thought perhaps a little—just a little—of Arman’s hostility was justified. But he hadn’t even known Urso had died.
The ship docked, but still no one came near him for some time. The sailors began the business of unloading, navvies walking from the dockside to assist. Men were shouting everywhere, and he saw beasts pulling wagons to the dockside, ready to receive the cargo.
“Come along, Karik.”
He turned. Arman was standing with an impatient look on his face, packs in his hand. Karik hoisted his own and as soon as he did, Arman moved towards the gangplank. “Wuh-where are we going?”
“Home, of course. You’re going back to your village, where I sincerely hope you will remain until you learn some sense.”
Karik stopped, and glared. “I d-did nothing wrong.”
“I refuse to argue with you about this in public. Move, or I’ll have you carried off the boat.”
Karik very nearly told him to go ahead, but there was a forbidding look in Arman’s eye that warned Karik he was entirely serious.
He followed Arman down the gangplank, and trudged along behind him, not sure where they were going. To his surprise, they were headed to the army barracks where Arman was well known, judging by the many greetings he received. Karik could only follow, since he wasn’t given any explanations at all.
“Arman! Gods, man, is that you?”
“It is. Tiko, did you get the message we were on our way back?”
The person who had greeted Arman was a short, stocky, grey-haired man with a wide smile and intelligent eyes set in a weathered face. He was wearing a uniform, but Karik had no idea of ranks. “Yes, we did. So this is Karik?”
Arman gave a dismissive flick of his head. “Yes. Tiko, I want him taken back straight away. His parents will want him home as fast as we can manage it.”
“I can line up people for tomorrow—”
“No, now, Tiko.”
Tiko frowned. “Didn’t you just get off the ship? Don’t you want to give the boy a night to catch his breath?”
“He’s been sitting on his arse for over a month and his parents are crazed with worry. No, he’s not going back to the house, unless you have no one to take him.”
“Let me check, you’ve caught me on the hop. Karik, are you ready and fit to travel?” Karik could only nod. Though he still felt as if the ground was rocking under his feet, the idea of going back with Arman to be treated with more disdain was repellent. “Right, then let me ask. Just wait. I won’t be long.”
Arman thanked him, then stared off into the distance, looking anywhere but at Karik. Karik almost laughed. He looked just like Keiji did when he was arguing with his sister. It wasn’t really funny, but Arman was being rather childish, and Karik was no longer afraid to think that, even if he couldn’t say it.
True to his word, Tiko was back in minutes. “I’ve got two lads who can run a cart within the hour back to the village. Do his parents know he’s on his way?”
“Not yet, but if you could deal with that through your mind-speaker, I’d be grateful. Oh, tell him to ask Neka not to tell Kei I’m back—I want to surprise him.”
“Surprise him? You’ll melt his brain,” Tiko said with a chuckle. “The man’s been hopeless while you’ve been away.”
“I’m sure he hasn’t. So, I’ll leave Karik in your hands. Make sure your men take him home, Tiko. I don’t want to go through this again, if you please.”
“No, I’m sure—but why the haste? A day won’t matter to Jena and Reji if they know the boy is safe.”
Arman pressed his lips together in annoyance. “I’ve done my bit, and I just want to get on with my life. Please get him back home.”
Tiko shrugged. “As you wish. Come on, Karik.”
He took Karik’s arm as Arman stalked off without a backwards glance. Karik shrugged the hand off—he was sick of being pulled and pushed around—and walked towards Arman. “G-goodbye, Father,” he said in a low, clear voice that only Arman could have heard.
Arman stopped. His back went stiff, and Karik was sure he was about to turn and speak to him. But then he walked off once more, and the moment was gone.
Coward, Karik thought angrily, then let Tiko tow him away. He had lost his last chance to resolve things with Arman. Perhaps he should now just concentrate on not caring about the man at all.
Seeking Home: 1
Arman could have easily got a lift back to the academy, but he needed to walk off his temper. That damn brat, impudent to the end. If Mekus could change a boy in such a short time, then Arman had been entirely vindicated in taking the baby away from his and Mayl’s care.
Good riddance to the boy. He’d cost too much for what he was, and if Reji and Jena hadn’t been so important to Arman and Kei both, Arman would have thrown him off that boat himself.
Yet, even in his anger, he was aware he was exaggerated, irrational, in his reactions. He strove to get his emotions under control before his soul-touching lover could feel them. It was the reason he hadn’t wanted Tiko to forewarn Kei—if he couldn’t calm down, he would just keep walking until he did.
Why did this child, not his blood, not his concern, affect him so badly
? Why had his accusations hurt as if he had been stabbed? He couldn’t understand it, couldn’t articulate it even to himself. It was like all his understanding of human beings became as nothing when he faced Karik.
The boy was angry with him, and again, to be scrupulous, had a right to be. But even acknowledging that made Arman’s heart burn with turbulent emotions he couldn’t even put a name to.
This was no good. He was but a mile from the academy and he was as angry and ready to snap as he had been an hour ago. He walked down to the harbour-side, and sat on one of the civic benches, staring out at the water, his head in his hands. He had to stop this. He was just a few minutes from being back with the man he loved. Every minute sitting here getting worked up was another minute away from Kei.
At last his heart stopped pounding unpleasantly, and he could unclench his fists. It would take him twenty minutes to walk to the academy. If he concentrated on what it would be like to see Kei again, he would be all right.
He had calmed a little by the time he reached the big white building on the shorefront, and he couldn’t resist running up the academy’s steps, only stopping for the barest time needed for courtesy to acknowledge the happy greetings from the clerks and to find out where Kei was. Then he dashed up the two narrow staircases to his lover’s office and threw the door open, not even stopping to think that Kei might not be alone.
Fortunately he was. “Arman!” The pencil Kei was holding fell from his fingers. Arman swore later he hadn’t even seen Kei move before he suddenly had an armful of laughing, almost crying man who pushed him against the wall and crushed hungry lips against his mouth. Kei’s hands were everywhere, his body pressed hard against Arman’s, while Arman’s hands were busy trying to get under Kei’s jerkin and shirt, to the bare, warm skin that he had missed so much.
Some time later—he was never to be sure just how long—he ended up sitting against the wall with Kei against him, stroking Kei’s braid and kissing his temple. “Gods, never let me go through that again.”
“If the gods had such powers, I would pray for that too,” Kei murmured. “Where’s Karik?”
“On his way back. I left him with Tiko who’s arranged it all.”
Kei pulled back and frowned at him. “Why didn’t you bring him to the house? The poor lad must have been in need of a little rest.”
“That poor lad was more in need of being sent home to his parents who are rightly worried about him. He’s caused me a good deal of trouble. If you don’t mind, I don’t want to talk about him.”
Kei’s frown intensified, and he climbed off Arman and got to his feet, dusting his pants off. Arman stood too, hoping Kei wouldn’t press this. “Did you even let Jena know?”
“Tiko’s mind-speaker was asked to. What possible point is there in keeping the child here when he needs to be on his way?”
“I just thought he might like a night to get his bearings, that’s all. He’s been through an ordeal.”
“We’ve all been through an ordeal, and since it’s a direct result of his actions, I see no reason to pander to him further.”
Kei blinked. “Gods, you’re really angry at him, aren’t you?”
“I’ll be even angrier if my homecoming has to be spent talking about this any more than I have to.”
“Have you sent him on his way in this temper? Why, Arman? Karik’s done nothing wrong—”
“So you say, but not only did his loose tongue lead to this mess, he seems to have eagerly devoured the worst lies Mayl and Mekus have spewed, and is more than happy to spread those around as well.” He felt his blood beginning to pound and he rubbed at his temples. “Can’t you drop it? The boy is in perfect health, he’s in good hands, I’ve done my best for him and so has everyone else. I’m just pissing tired of this mess, can’t you see that?”
Kei frowned at him. “Yes, I can, but I wish you had brought Karik back for the night. Letting him go home with this between you was wrong, and not very kind either. You haven’t given him a chance to even talk about what they told him, and it could be easily explained.”
“I refuse to defend myself against such spurious accusations.”
“But you’re happy to look like a bully instead?”
If it had been anyone but Kei saying this, Arman would have walked out in disgust, but Kei’s tone was still mild. With difficulty, he held onto his temper. “Kei, please—Karik’s injured feelings are really the least important thing, don’t you think? He’s safe, he’s going home, Reji and Jena have their boy back, and really, considering how badly this could have gone for them, I’d just like a little appreciation of the efforts my father and I have gone to. Yes, perhaps I was unfair to him, but he was being provocative. I don’t like rudeness, as you well know.”
“No, I know, and you’ve done a good thing. I suppose there’s no permanent harm, though I wish you’d not been so hasty, that’s all.” Kei shook his head ruefully and sighed. “I have to teach in a few minutes. Have you been to see Lord Meki?”
“You really think I would see him before you? I have been gone too long.”
Kei smiled. “You certainly have. Forget the question. My head’s still whirling from the joy of you being right here instead of a thousand miles away.” He kissed Arman again, and Arman let the familiar taste of him wash away his residual anger. If Kei could let the thing go, Arman might be capable of discussing it more calmly later. Much later.
“You said you have to teach?” Arman murmured.
“Yes, damn it.” Kei rested his cheek against Arman’s, reminding Arman that he needed to shave. “Why don’t you go see Meki? I know it’ll do him good, and I can come meet you there so we can walk home together. I’ll only be an hour or so.”
“Mmmm, an hour seems a long time to me right now,” he said, and Kei smiled. “But as you say. How is he?”
“Much better since we got your news. I think if you’d really stayed for two years, it would have been the end of him. He was furious with you, you realise, when you said you were staying.”
“Yes, he made that quite clear,” Arman said dryly. “But what choice did I have? What honourable choice?”
“At that point, none. It’s just a miracle Mekus decided to drop the case.”
Arman pulled back. “What? Is that what Yuko said?”
Kei frowned in puzzlement. “He said it had been settled. He didn’t give us any details, and at that point, I didn’t care just so long as you and Karik were coming home safe to us. Why are you so cross?”
“Mekus didn’t settle. My father paid a fortune to buy them off—against, I have to say, my direct wishes. My brother bore some of the cost too. I wasn’t pleased with them, though their motives were admirable.”
“Oh...I didn’t know.” Kei shook his head. “Stupid of me, really. Mekus wouldn’t just let you slip away that easily, would he?”
“No, he wouldn’t. He managed to put everyone to a good deal of trouble, got Urso killed, robbed my niece and nephew of what was rightfully theirs, and infected that boy....” He took a deep breath and gritted his teeth. “I am not talking about this. For pity’s sake, leave it be.”
“As you wish,” Kei said gently, laying his hand over Arman’s heart.
Arman felt his anger leaching away, and he realised what Kei was doing. He put his hand over Kei’s. “Don’t, you’ve had your own troubles.”
Kei drew a breath, and then stopped whatever he was doing. It had been enough, though. Arman felt much calmer. “You really need to learn not get so worked up, my love.” He leaned forward and kissed Arman’s cheek. “Go on to the Rulers’ House. I’ll find you in Lord Meki’s office or your own. I better let Pira know you’re coming or she’ll faint with shock.”
“You were expecting me, surely.”
“After the month we’ve had, we expected nothing. Welcome back. I believe I neglected to say that,” he added with a teasing smile.
“I think I got the general impression. See you soon.”
At the Rulers’ H
ouse, he took the precaution of asking a clerk to let Lord Meki know he was back so that the older man didn’t have a heart attack from shock. The clerk returned in moments and almost dragged Arman along to see his superior. The Ruler stood as he came into the room. “Arman. By all the gods, I didn’t really think we would see you again so soon.”
Lord Meki held his hand out in greeting, something he rarely did, and Arman shook it gratefully, shocked at how tired and grey the man looked. “And just as well I did come back, Meki. What have you been doing to yourself?”
“Now don’t scold. I’ve had that young man of yours at me too. I’ve been resting, I promise you, but the work still needs to be done. The reports from Utuk are worrying me. We need to prepare for the collapse of the civil order in that country, and I’m not sure we’re ready.”
“The collapse isn’t as imminent as you think, though I think it’s well to prepare.” He took a seat as Lord Meki indicated. “But nothing is gained by you working yourself to death.”
“I’m glad you feel that way, because I took the liberty, once we heard you were coming back, of sending preliminary notices out to the clans regarding your nomination.”
Arman raised an eyebrow. “And if the ship had sunk?”
“We would have mourned deeply,” Lord Meki said, with a welcome twinkle in his tired eyes. “I only delayed lest the Prij use it against you. Now I’m only too happy to poke them with your nomination.”
“You and my father have a lot in common, do you realise?”
The Ruler asked for an explanation, and though he smiled to learn of Arman’s parent’s obstinacy, he agreed the man had been a tad reckless. “But he knows the temperature of the situation better than me, and probably you. What would happen if Kita were deposed?”
“Mekus would push for himself or his son to be regent for her daughter, but he could only do that if he had support. He hasn’t got the army, nor all of the senate, though my brother says it’s always difficult to tell with the way alliances shift. The old families loathe his guts. The newer senators are more in his debt. The populace seems willing to let him use their pent-up anger for his own purposes. I think the fact my father got away with the things he did, indicates Mekus knows his position isn’t by any means secure. I am naturally anxious for that situation to continue.”
Falling From the Tree (Darshian Tales #2) Page 35
