Falling From the Tree (Darshian Tales #2)

by Ann Somerville

  “Yuko said no one was allowed to see you. Mekus didn’t give you any news?” Karik shook his head. “Ah. Well, at one point, it looked like the only way of getting you away from them was for Arman to agree to raise you in Utuk at his father’s house. Your mother and I were going to come down and work in Utuk.” He smiled. “In a funny way, I was almost looking forward to it, so long as we would all be together.”

  “Pa...did you kn-know Ah-Arman is my fuh-father?”

  His father straightened up, and his surprise was obvious. “No...I didn’t. Who told you he was?”

  “M-Mekus and my mo...Mayl. Th-then Ah-Arman didn’t d-deny it.”

  “Right.” Pa stared into the fire for long moments, and Karik couldn’t tell what he was thinking. “That’s not what I thought the situation was at all. It makes no difference to me, but I can see how it might to you.”

  “Wh-who did you th-think my fuh-father was?”

  Pa put his hand back on Karik’s shoulder. “Not Arman, that’s for sure. But look, Karik, it doesn’t matter. You’re my son, and your Ma’s. Nothing else is really important, trust me.”

  “B-But why did he g-give me away? He took me f-from her and g-gave me away.”

  “Son, all I know is that at the time, Arman said he had good reason to believe you wouldn’t be cared for properly by her. The reasons he gave for not raising you himself...I believed them to be good ones. I believe he thought they were good ones too. Maybe he’s had reason to regret it since then. People make bad decisions for the best motives all the time. All I know is that his loss is our blessing.” He squeezed Karik’s shoulder and made him look at him. “I want you to understand it was never about you. How could it have been when you were just a baby? I’ve known Arman a long time. I respect him and I like him, but he can get pretty twisted up about things. Did you talk to him at all about any of this?”

  Karik shook his head. “He... g-got mad at me. T-Told me to shut up.”

  “Did he now. Sounds like someone should have spanked some manners into him, don’t you think?” That raised a smile from Karik as he tried to imagine Arman, tall, huge man that he was, over someone’s knee. “The situation in Utuk was pretty bad with Urso dying, and him having to face a lot of people he probably never thought to see again. My guess is that he was upset about a lot of things that weren’t to do with you at all. Why don’t you and I and your Ma try and talk to him in the summer when he and Kei come to stay? Everyone will have had a chance to cool down, you’ll be settled back home and had time to think. Do you think that might be the way to deal with it?”

  “He h-hates me, Pa.”

  “I don’t think so, son. Arman’s a bit of an odd person, and he can be...prickly. But if he hated you, he wouldn’t have brought you back to us.”

  Karik wanted to believe him, but Arman could have done all he had for Karik’s parents’ sake and still despised him personally. His father’s idea was a good one though. Maybe in the summer, he could try again. He still had so many questions and this time, he wouldn’t let Arman push them to one side.

  Pa straightened up. “Now, eat up, and we can get an early night. We can sleep in proper beds in Ai-Beyto tomorrow.”

  Karik looked up again as he picked up his plate. “D-do we huh-have to stay there?”

  “In Ai-Beyto? Why?”

  Karik couldn’t meet his eyes. It was rather childish, but after Ai-Kislik, the thought of facing all those strangers who had been so dismissive of him, just turned his stomach. “N-no reason.”

  “Hmmm. There must be, or you wouldn’t have mentioned it. But no, we don’t have to. We can push on, so long as you don’t mind camping out. We’ll get home a little earlier too, which your Ma will appreciate. So no Ai-Beyto, all right?”

  He nodded. His father was puzzled, but there was only so much baring of his soul he could face right now. It would be hard enough when he got back to Ai-Albon, but at least the people there knew him, braid or no braid. At least, they thought they knew him.

  Seeking Home: 3

  The journey was unremarkable and free from any problems. The weather was damp two days running, which made it miserable for the humans, but the beasts and his father’s sprung cart made light going of the road. Karik had to do a lot of the driving because Pa slept as much as he could after keeping watch at night. Karik did the early shift, his father the late one, since Pa insisted he was used to it after all these years. That was something Karik wanted to know about. “R-Risa said you wuh-wanted to stop.”

  “Yes, I surely do,” Pa said as they sat eating their supper. “I’m getting too old for it. The couple I took this route over from, retired when they were only a few years older than I am now, and I think they would have stopped sooner if I’d been older myself. But Risa can’t manage on his own and Lori isn’t willing to do it all the time. One of Pia’s brothers might be interested but that would leave Misek short for the herbarium.”

  He set a fire sprite over the campfire, making it dance with the wood-fuelled flames—something he’d done when Karik was smaller, to make him laugh. Even now, the sight gave him pleasure. “I want to breed jesigs, see if they can be acclimatised to the dryer regions. They’d be damn useful for fast, short trips between villages—they could make Ai-Tuek in two days, given the speed they can do. Fedor’s already agreed we can use some of the village funds as a stake. At least taking care of them will give me a bit of variety.”

  Karik nodded. “I could huh-help. We could br-breed them together.”

  His father looked surprised. “I thought you were going to work with Kei. He was very enthusiastic about it, at least before everything blew up.” Karik shrugged. He couldn’t imagine Kei wanting him in Darshek anymore, not if Arman was about to become a Ruler, and with the way Arman thought of him. “You’re not going to give up on that just because of what happened in Utuk, are you? Don’t let the Prij take that away from you.”

  “I...d-don’t want to.”

  “Hmmm. Why don’t you give it a week or two before you make your mind up? Longer, in fact. It’s not like you have to decide right now.”

  “I kn-know. I just....” His eyes did that stupid thing again and he rubbed them angrily.

  “Karik...son—I think this isn’t the time to make any decisions,” his father said gently, putting his hand on Karik’s shoulder. “You’ve been away from home for a while, and what you went through would unsettle anyone. Don’t write off the future just yet.”

  Karik nodded, not wanting to meet his father’s eyes. Every time he thought about Utuk, about his mother, and Arman, his heart got tight and heavy in his chest. It was good to feel his father’s arm around his shoulders, but it didn’t really solve things.

  They drove into Ai-Albon at midday, five days after his father had taken him from the charge of the soldiers. The village street was quiet—families were either eating their lunch inside their homes, or out in their places of work, in fields and mines. The smell of cooking and wood smoke filled the air, but there wasn’t a soul to be seen. His father slowed the cart to a slow walk and dismounted, as did Karik, taking the reins of the beasts to lead them into the stables.

  “Karik?”

  Karik turned. Risa was coming towards them from out of the gloom of the stable shed. “Gods, you’re safe. Oh gods.” He suddenly swooped Karik up into a hug, and the normally restrained man was actually shaking as he held him. Karik felt his own heart lift a little at seeing his friend again. “I thought I would never see you again,” Risa whispered. “I should never have let you and Gyo out of my sight.”

  “N-Not your fault. My fault.”

  “No, it wasn’t. Oh, I’m so glad you’re safe.”

  Karik heard his father chuckle. “Risa-ki, if you keep that up, I’ll have to announce the betrothal.”

  Risa let Karik go so he could straighten up and glare at his partner. “Just like you to ruin the moment, Reji. “ He held Karik at arm’s length. “Your braid—”

  “Will grow,” Pa said firml
y. “Risa, Jena will want to see him. Any chance I can ask you to sort the cart out while I take Karik home?”

  “Of course. I’ll bring your gear to the house in a few minutes. Karik, get on home to your Ma. She’s been out of her mind worrying about you. Welcome back, lad,” he added with one last hug. “Off you go.”

  Karik paused only to collect his pack from the back of the cart, then, with his father’s arm around his shoulders, they walked down the street to their house. He could smell baking—Ma must be making bread.

  “Jena! Look what I’ve got for you!”

  A pan clattered in the sink as his mother turned around, her face frozen in shock, then ran to them without a word, sweeping Karik and his father up into her embrace. “You’re really safe,” she said, her voice breaking on a sob.

  “I’m h-home, Ma,” Karik whispered into her hair.

  She leaned back to look at him. “Oh, your braid...that settles it, you’re never leaving the house ever again!”

  “Jena love, I don’t think it’s practical,” Pa said with gentle humour.

  “All right, then I’m tying a stone to his ankle and putting a bell around his neck. Oh, gods,” she cried, pressing him to her shoulder. “You scared me to death.”

  “I’m sorry, Ma.”

  She gave a mighty sniffle, then pulled her handkerchief from her pocket to blow her nose. “Well, you’re just in time for lunch. I made some bread, and Meis brought some honey and butter along just this morning. Are you hungry?”

  “We’re starved,” Pa said, bending down to kiss her on the cheek. “Karik, just dump your pack and wash up.”

  Ma couldn’t stop touching him as he ate, as if she wasn’t sure he was entirely real. She had a dozen questions about what had happened to him, and how it had been for him, all of which he found very uncomfortable to answer. She could have got the answers just by reading his mind, but his mother had always strictly respected his privacy that way, and even now, as he stumbled and stuttered and failed to really answer what she wanted to know, she didn’t use her gift. Finally, Pa signalled to his mother that Karik had had enough, and she caressed his cheek. “I’m sorry, Ka-chi. I wish you’d contacted me before you left, though. I kept thinking something must be wrong, though Misi said you looked fine when you left the embassy.”

  “I...it all huh-happened so fast.”

  “Jena, I think a certain Prij of our acquaintance was a little brusque,” Pa said. “And certainly didn’t tell Karik anything of what went on while he was at Mekus’s house.”

  “Well, that was kind,” Ma said tartly. “Remind me to thank him for that later.”

  “Get in line,” Pa said, glancing at Karik. Karik concentrated on his food. He didn’t want his parents arguing with Arman over him. He just wanted people to stop thinking about him altogether.

  They dawdled over their meal, talking—at least, his parents talked, and he listened, grateful for that simple pleasure. Then he unpacked his things in his bedroom, discovering with relief that all his treasures—even the quilo fruit stones—had been carefully preserved for him. He touched Risa’s beautiful hair clasp mournfully, knowing it would be at least a year before he could wear it safely. Until then he was going to look like a freak—well, more of a freak. His eyes settled on Arman’s gift, and he wondered if he could get away with throwing it in the midden, or burying it. But the truth was he would need the razor one day, and there wasn’t another to be had in the village. He still didn’t know how to use one.

  Depressed again, he came downstairs, where his parents were sitting on the sofa, Pa holding Ma in his arms. “I’m g-going for a walk,” he told them. “Back later.”

  “Karik—”

  Pa laid a hand on Ma’s. “Jena, let the boy be. He’s been stuck in the one house for a month, and on a cart for two weeks. He just wants to stretch his legs. Right, Karik?”

  “Yes. Wuh-won’t be long.”

  His mother made the effort to smile. “I’ll get over it soon, Ka-chi. Maybe in a year or ten. Off you go.”

  He felt like a traitor for leaving then, but his father had it exactly right—he just wanted to stretch his legs without anyone dogging his steps. It wasn’t like he was leaving the village again.

  He passed by the stables where Risa was still working. It was clear the reason he had been there at all was because he had a sick young beast, and Karik spent a little time talking to him about what was wrong with it—just a colic, it seemed, and Risa had it in hand, treating the animal with one of Jena’s drenches. “I’ll bring your gear to the house in a bit,” he said, watching the beast as it groaned and shifted in discomfort, patting its neck to soothe it.

  “I’ll p-pick it up wuh-when I came back.”

  “All right. Make sure you come by our house later. Ma’s been worried about you nearly as much as Jena was.”

  Karik agreed readily. Meis was someone who was always easy to talk to, and he had spent nearly as much time growing up in her house as in his own. She’d taught him to cook and to sew, and never seemed to notice his stammer. But then, all of Risa’s family were good friends. It was still a little strange to think they were now just a handful of yards away, instead of a thousand miles. He really was home, finally.

  That comfortable feeling stayed with him as he walked up the street and towards the waterhole. As he drew near the trees at the far side, he realised there were two people there, sitting at the water’s edge—they appeared to be occupied with each other. Recognising them, he turned away to give them their privacy.

  “Ka-chi?”

  He sighed, and turned back. He really didn’t feel like talking to people but he didn’t want to cause offence either. “Hello, M-Meran.”

  Her companion—Peit’s son, Jos—gave him a dirty look as he untangled himself from her. It was pretty obvious that in Karik’s absence, Meran had found a more suitable target for her sexual experimentation, though why she had settled on the rather surly Jos, and what her parents would think of her kissing him in broad daylight—or at all—Karik didn’t know.

  “When did you get back?”

  “N-Noon.”

  She walked over to him, and Jos followed her, scowling heavily. “Who cut your hair? The Prij?” he asked, sounded offended at the very idea.

  “N-no, I did.”

  “Why? Are you leaving the clan? That’s good news.”

  Meran slapped Jos’s arm. “Jos, don’t be mean. Why did you cut it, Ka-chi? It looks horrible.”

  Karik’s scowl nearly matched Jos’s. “N-none of your b-business,” he said, turning away and walking back to the village. He should have a sign made saying that, he thought, and start wearing it around his neck.

  “Oy, don’t talk to her like that.” A meaty hand grabbed his shoulder and spun him around. “People only cut their braids if they’re banished or they’re dead. Which are you?” Jos demanded.

  “N-Neither. I’m just a p-pissing P-Prij. Let me go.” He tried to free his shirt from Jos’s grasp, but the boy had strong parents and had inherited muscle from both of them. At fifteen, he looked like a full-grown man, as tall and broad as many ten years older.

  “A Prij? So you’re too good for the Darshianese now? You should have stayed in Utuk.”

  “M-Maybe I sh-should have.”

  “Jos, let him go,” Meran said, pulling her boyfriend’s hand off Karik. “I’m glad you’re back, Karik,” giving Jos a significant look. Karik wondered how many more kisses from Meran were in Jos’s future.

  “I’m not,” Jos said. “They should drive all the Prij out of Darshian. They’re nothing but trouble.”

  “M-Make sure you tell Ah-Arman that when you s-see him,” Karik said angrily.

  “I’m not scared of Arman. Everyone knows he’s just sucking up to the Rulers because he wants people to forget what he did in the war. Well I don’t forget what he did to my Ma and my Pa, and you’re no better than him. I don’t want any Prij living in the village, and I don’t want you.”

  “Jos
! Karik, don’t listen to him—”

  “I n-never do,” Karik snapped, turning on his heel and walking smartly away. Jos had always hated him, though his parents were never anything other than kind and polite to Karik. Karik supposed it made Jos feel superior somehow, to have someone to despise.

  Even though he expected no better from the other boy, the sudden burst of animosity reawakened all his feelings of worthlessness and insecurity. Jos wasn’t the only person in the village to dislike the Prij, and certainly not the only person in Darshian. Yet Jos only knew two Prij in total, and neither had ever done him any harm—not to him directly anyway—and if Peit and Urki bore Arman no ill will, why should their son? Jos hated Karik for who he was, not for anything he had done or would do.

  He heard footsteps running to catch up with him as he walked towards the mine. He clenched his fist, quite determined to insist on being left alone with the force of a blow if he had to. “Karik?” It was Meran. “Wait, Karik, please.”

  She had caught up with him, and he stopped. It would just be foolish to run off and he knew her well enough that she would chase him until she caught him. “I’m sorry,” she said. “That wasn’t fair of him.”

  “I d-don’t care.”

  “Why not?”

  “B-because he’s an i-i-idiot,” Karik said bluntly, not caring if he offended her. If she was going to associate herself with Jos, then she could get used to it. Jos was a bad-tempered bully and nowhere near as smart as her.

  “He just...doesn’t think sometimes.”

  “You mean, e-ever.”

  “You don’t like him much, do you?”

  Karik gave her a cold look. “I d-don’t like him at a-all.”

  She looked at the ground as if embarrassed. “Did you mean what you said? That you’re a Prij? Not one of us? Is that why you cut your hair? I don’t know anyone who’s cut their braid before.”