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The Exxar Chronicles: Book 02 - Emissary

Page 33

by Neal Jones


  "Was Jran such a disappointment too?"

  "Leave him out of this."

  "No! I want to know why he left! He did everything you asked, he went through with Pak'Ti'Faar, so why is he on Beta Erendii?"

  "That was his choice."

  "Then it's mine as well."

  Farak nods. "You have two days to pack your things and arrange transport. I hope that Jran is willing to give you money for a ticket."

  "I hope so too. I wouldn't want to impose on you anymore than I already have."

  Jharis steps back as her husband brushes past her and into the house, slamming the door behind him. She turns to her son, tears welling in her eyes. "Kralin, don't do this. Let me talk to your father."

  "What good would it do? You heard him. He's already made up his mind. This is his house, remember? His rules, his dominion."

  "It's not like that, and you know it. Besides, it's his place as head of this house. He deserves your respect."

  Kralin has had enough. "When is he going to respect me?? I am not some stupid grinth who's barely out of diapers and who can't think for myself."

  "You need to earn respect, Kralin, and all you've shown us these past few weeks is nothing but pride and rebellion. You both are as stubborn as gora, but he's the one who's the elder, and you need to give him respect first, whether or not you agree with him, understood?"

  Kralin turns away, fuming in silence.

  "When you have your own family, Kralin, you will understand, but until then you need to bow to your father's experience and his leadership."

  "I don't have to anymore. I'm going to live with Jran. I've had enough of this gress!"

  Kralin, look at me." The break in her voice compels him to obey. "Your father has given you two days. Will you at least wait that long before leaving? If only for me?"

  "Why? What happened between Jran and father? Why did he leave homeworld?"

  Jharis wipes her eyes and composes herself. "You and Jran both seemed to inherit your father's stubborn streak, though he was nowhere near as confrontational as you. Jran knew how to pick his battles, but you haven't yet learned that."

  "That doesn't answer my question."

  She shakes her head as she turns to leave. "It's between Jran and your father. Go to bed, Kralin. We'll talk in the morning."

  Later, as he lays in bed staring into the dark, Kralin can hear his parents arguing, even through closed doors and thick walls. The sound is too muffled to understand the words, but the context and subject are clear. He rolls onto his side, pulling his pillow over his head. He will not wait two days. He will be gone by tomorrow.

  ( 3 )

  "Thank you, Eema." Jharis handed the tray back to the nurse, the plate still half full.

  "Are you sure you don't want me to leave it? You barely touched your soup."

  "I don't feel like eating," Jharis sighed. "I'm afraid if I force something down now I'll just end up throwing it back up in an hour."

  "If you say so. Perhaps I should make you some tea? There's still some of the sage blend left."

  "Maybe in a little bit. I want to rest right now."

  Eema nodded and left. Jharis reached for the computer remote that controlled the viewscreen on the far wall. She had just selected a news channel when Kralin entered the room.

  Jharis attempted a weak smile. "Eshaza."

  Her son returned the greeting. "You look pale. More than usual, I mean. Are you all right?"

  "I didn't sleep very well last night."

  "I can come back later."

  "No, sit. I'd like the company." She turned up the volume just as the news anchor began his daily report.

  "...a second bombing in Ageyer early this morning, local time. While no group has stepped forward to claim responsibility, the Kauramide government believes that the Ijaka are behind this latest terrorist attack. In other news, the Emissary and her entourage arrived at the Hathat colonies just two hours ago, and they will finish their tour of that sector in three days. They are expected back here on homeworld two weeks after that so that the Emissary and her mother can celebrate the Holy Week in their home province. And, finally, Chancellor Kroth announced this morning that a date has been set for a third round of peace talks with the Interstellar Federation. While the specific topics have yet to be decided, it is hoped by the High Quorum that these new discussions will further cement the alliance, perhaps even opening the door to full Federation membership in the near future."

  The anchor continued to speak, but Jharis muted the volume when she glanced at her son. "If this is too uncomfortable, Kralin, you can go do something else. I don't need the company that badly."

  "It's not that...it's just..." He scowled.

  "What? The news?"

  "Why do you watch such depressing news?"

  "I want to hear everything I can about the Emissary. There's that look again. You obviously still aren't a believer, even after evidence such as this."

  Kralin sighed. "I don't want to argue with you."

  "No, let's talk. We haven't spoken in over twenty years, and now's not the time to leave things unsaid. I want to know how you feel."

  "You already know that. It's why I went to live with Jran in the first place. You and father measured everything in your lives against that backwards religion, and anything that didn't measure up was cast out."

  "Oh, Kralin." Jharis almost laughed, but caught herself when she saw how serious her son was. "You really believe it was that black and white?"

  He looked at her, surprised. "You think it wasn't? Father and I did nothing but argue. It didn't matter what I did, if it wasn't in line with the church, I was wrong and headed for Cho'Vok'Lor."

  "That's how you saw it."

  "That's how it was."

  "It's true that that 'backwards religion' was the center of our lives and our home, and we raised you and Jran in the way that we believed was right. You were the one who chose to rebel against that, and you can't keep blaming us for your choices."

  "It was his marriage wasn't it?" Kralin was looking down at the bedspread, lost in thought.

  "What?"

  He looked up. "It was Jran's marriage to Tarish that father so strongly disapproved of."

  Jharis shook her head. "It wasn't Tarish." She frowned, puzzled. "Tarish was pregnant before the wedding. I thought you had figured that out a long time ago."

  Kralin looked stunned. "No. I...well, I don't know. I guess I'd never thought about it before, and Jran and Tarish never said anything when I was with them on Beta Erendii." He stood and walked to the window, shaking his head ruefully. "That explains a lot. I can see why Father would have been so angry with him."

  "They were young, they made a mistake, and Farak was so disappointed." Jharis reached for another pillow and Kralin helped her position it behind her shoulders so she could sit up. "Farak wanted Jran to go to school for at least two years before he married Tarish. That was what made him so upset, that the two of them had to get married so young, and with a child on the way there was no time for school. He was so furious that he very nearly cast Jran out of the house altogether."

  Now it was Kralin's turn to be puzzled. "I don't remember any of this. When did Jran tell him?"

  "It was that one day that you were away on a school trip to Arry Province."

  "Oh, that's right! It was just you that picked me up at the sildyr depot the night I got back. I had been expecting Jran."

  Jharis nodded. "I wanted to tell you, but I didn't think it was my place, and what Jran and Tarish did was a very shameful mistake. For the sake of family honor they did the right thing by getting married. But I always assumed you learned the truth eventually because of the arguments between Jran and your father."

  "I never paid much attention," Kralin replied, once more standing at the window. A pleasant breeze was wafting in, carrying with it the scent of ripened tanta. "I could hear the voices through the walls but not the words. I knew that Jran had done something, but I wasn't sure what, and I was a
lready starting to hate father because of his insistence that I start taking scripture lessons. I always assumed that the arguments were about Jran wanting to go away to school and father refusing to let him. I do remember one heated discussion about the vineyards."

  Jharis nodded again, and she was grateful that her son's back was turned to her so that he couldn't see the deep sadness in her eyes as she recalled the bitter memory. "Farak wanted Jran to stay and work in the vineyards, to take his place as owner and operator someday. And the proposal might have been accepted had your father been willing to forgive Jran and Tarish of their mistake."

  "But he didn't," Kralin interrupted, and he turned to face his mother, his anger once again rising to the surface. "Forgiveness doesn't seem to be in father's nature. He's too proud for that!"

  "Yes," Jharis continued, matching her son's vehemence with her own. "And when you came back home with the news of Jran's death - and of Tarish's and Mikel's and Larha's too - it broke your father. It shattered him in a way that he has never recovered from, and he has punished himself ever since!"

  "Good! That is what I've always hoped!" Kralin fired back. "I wanted him to see what his stubbornness and his pride cost him!"

  "Krite!" The expletive took so much energy from Jharis that she sank against her pillows and closed her eyes, taking deep breaths to calm herself.

  Kralin was too shocked to reply. His mother had never uttered so much as a mild oath in all her years, and he felt chagrined by the sight of her now, her frail chest rising and falling with each breath.

  After several minutes Jharis opened her eyes. "Kralin," she said with as much severity as she could muster, "come here." He obeyed, sitting on the edge of the bed. She stretched out her hand and he reluctantly took it. "I did not ask you to come home just so you and your father could keep punishing each other. You both must learn to forgive, and what has happened in the past cannot be undone." She began coughing, and when Kralin leaned in alarm, she waved him back. "It's all right. Will you hand me that inhaler?"

  Jharis inhaled a dose of medicine and then laid back against the pillows once more. "I'm so tired..."

  "I should go," Kralin murmured, rising. "Get some rest. We'll talk again later this afternoon." He started for the door.

  "Kralin." The forcefulness of her tone, weak as it was, stopped him and he turned to face her. "I know about Enar and the embezzlement. You and this house...are all that your father has left. Make him...make him see that. Make him understand."

  "Yes, mother," Kralin dutifully replied. He closed the door softly behind him, but then paused at the top of the stairs, feeling as exhausted as Jharis. There was no use in going to the vineyards now. It was only late morning, and having another heated "discussion" with Farak would accomplish nothing except embarrassment for the both of them if they "talked" within earshot of the field hands and staff.

  Kralin slowly descended the stairs and found Eema in the kitchen, sipping a cup of tea as she sat at the table, typing up a shopping list on her compad. She pointed to the stove.

  "I just made a fresh pot."

  "No thank you. I'm going into the city for a little while. I'll be back later this afternoon."

  "I'm headed to the market soon. Would you like to go with me?"

  Kralin almost refused, thinking that a tall stein of ale at Ardmos would feel very good right about now. But he knew he would never stop with just one, and if he was going to talk with his father tonight, he needed a clear head. Maybe some sunshine and fresh air would be better instead.

  "Sure. That sounds nice."

  ( 4 )

  The Sygha market, the best of the three in Neyart in Eema's opinion, was a bustling scene of color and voices. Kralin had expected a low turnout because it was only the beginning of harvest season, but it seemed as if every available vendor space was crammed with a cart or kiosk, sometimes two or three. Most of the crowd was mothers and children, even the ones selling the produce. It was customary for the wives and housemaids of the farmers to do the selling because the men were usually busy in the fields harvesting tomorrow's wares.

  Eema moved a little faster than Kralin, knowing exactly what she wanted and where to find it. But Kralin was lost in the memories of visiting this market with his mother. Jharis promised both of her sons that they could have cream candy if they behaved, and Jran usually earned his. But Kralin only received his reward on rare occasions because he was always lagging behind or running off to play with Draek and his friends. That had gotten him in more trouble than usual once when Draek had convinced him to try and steal a stalk of kex. The vendor was an old housemaid who's braying voice was matched only by her sizable girth, and Kralin hadn't been quick enough while her back was turned. For someone of her size her bulky arm had moved rather fast and her pudgy fingers had nearly cut off all circulation as they clamped around Kralin's thin wrist. She brought her wide face close to the boy's and said –

  "Kralin? Kralin, hello?"

  The major blinked, startled by the feminine softness of the voice, and he turned to see Inedra Bre'el standing next to a kiosk of fresh lorda. He looked around for Eema, but she was nowhere in sight. He walked over to Inedra, feeling slightly embarrassed.

  "Hi. Are you following me?"

  She laughed. "My ensaj lives in this province, here in Neyart. I promised her a visit while I was on homeworld." 'Ensaj' was the Chrisarii word for grandmother. "I'm meeting her for dinner later, so I thought I'd stop in your neighborhood and see what you were doing."

  "I see."

  "It's all right, isn't it? If this is a bad time, then just say so. I won't take offense."

  "No, no, it's all right. It's just...unexpected."

  Inedra's smile faded as she looked closer at Kralin. "Is everything all right?"

  He forced a smile. "Yes, it's fine. Have you had lunch yet?"

  "No. That's what I was here for. I'm staying at a hostel just a couple blocks that way, and I wanted some fresh thryt for lunch."

  Kralin nodded. "That sounds perfect. I'll meet you back here in a few minutes. I need to go tell Eema that I'm leaving."

  "Okay."

  By the time Kralin had found Eema and then threaded back through the crowd to Inedra, she had a covered basket draped on one arm and a loaf of bread nestled in the other. She led the way out of the market and down the street, making small talk the whole way. Kralin nodded politely and gave all the usual responses, but by the time they arrived at the hostel he was starting to think that three rounds at Ardmos would have been better after all.

  Inedra set the basket and bread on the kitchen table and set about preparing the meal. "There's a bottle of wine in the cupboard over there. Glasses are on the shelf above it."

  Kralin was surprised to see that the wine wasn't local. "Where did you buy this?"

  "My cousin received it as a wedding gift, but she doesn't drink. Neither does her new husband."

  "Oh. Interesting."

  Inedra shook her head, scowling. "It's a long story and not worth going into. My family is more than a little...non-traditional."

  "Sounds nice." He meant it.

  Inedra glanced up, surprised, and then smiled. "It's not really. My parents are followers of Omnys, and they're about as free-thinking as anybody can get. Especially my father's side." She started slicing the meat and setting it in the pan to brown. "My cousin who got married is on my father's side, and they shun all forms of alcohol."

  Kralin handed her a glass of wine. "But not you."

  She laughed. "Krite, no!"

  They sipped, and then Kralin watched Inedra slice the cheese. In the pan, the meat sizzled and popped, filling the tiny kitchen with an aroma that made his stomach rumble.

  "Free-thinking spiritualists that don't consume alcohol. Sounds a little contradictory to me."

  Inedra laughed again, a girlish sound that Kralin found surprisingly pleasant. "I'd have to explain the whole philosophy to you, and it's really not worth it. There's a knife for the bread in that drawer." S
he reached for a jar of sauce from the basket. "You said you were visiting your parents, right?"

  "Yes." He took another sip of wine and then started slicing the bread.

  Inedra took the hint when he said nothing more. "Do you like a lot of sauce with your thryt?"

  "Yes." He finished his wine and poured a second glass. "Are your parents still on Beta Erendii?"

  "No. They moved back to homeworld right after the war started to be closer to my ansaje. They have a big house on the lake in Syrdan province. My parents, not my ansaje. "

  "Do you live with them as well?"

  "No. I'm stationed on Uarda right now."

  "You're in the military?"

  Inedra nodded as she rummaged in the cupboard above the stove for a spice jar. "Couple years now. Lieutenant. A life-sciences biologist." She glanced over her shoulder. "You look surprised."

  "I am. You don't seem the military type."

  "A lot of people say that. Put a sword in my hand and I'll prove otherwise."

  As Kralin watched Inedra cook, he felt a hunger stirring that he hadn't felt in a long time, an appetite that nothing to do with food. He took a long swallow of wine and then moved closer to Inedra. "Where did you learn how to cook thryt?"

  "My father."

  "Your father?"

  "I'm just full of surprises." She turned the strips of meat one last time, and then moved them to a large plate. She glanced up and frowned. "What?"

  "What?"

  "You have a strange expression. Are you sure everything's okay?"

  Kralin set his glass on the counter and leaned in, smiling. "Thank you."

  "For what? Lunch?"

  Kralin kissed Inedra, and she was so startled that she almost dropped the pan. She managed to get it safely onto a back burner and then wrapped her arms around Kralin's neck, returning the kiss.

  When they finally broke, the only thing she could think to say was, "The thryt is going to get cold."

  "We can reheat it later." Kralin grabbed her hand and pulled her towards the bedroom.

  ( 5 )

  Later, in the afterglow of sex, Inedra rested her chin on Kralin's bare chest and lazily traced one of his scars with one finger. "You must have seen a lot of action during the war," she murmured.

 

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