“Why would he? I mean, so far as Tije’s concerned, you are—doesn’t he believe that you’re really Arman’s son?”
Karik gave him a startled look. “Oh—you’re right. I mean...unless Arman explained...but he’s never come out and said to me that he’s not my father, and Tije would have been old enough to know about the court case, I guess. I hadn’t thought about that.” He stared at Romi, looking really quite perplexed. “But if he thinks that—gods, he’ll think the situation with Ma and Pa is really strange. The Prij don’t much care for adoption, and especially where the parents are still alive and around. Maybe I should say something.”
“No, I really don’t think you should. Arman’s relationship with his brother’s boy is his own business, just as your relationship with Arman is your own. If Arman wants Tije and his family to know the truth, then that’s for him to tell. If Tije brings it up, then that’s different.” He grinned suddenly. “You remind me of someone.”
“Who?”
“Your daughter. ‘Mine, mine’. Ouch!” He grinned harder as Karik whacked his arm. “I knew you’d do that. Now come here and kiss me better.”
“Grrrr.” But Karik obeyed anyway, and Romi squeezed him hard before kissing him possessively. “You really think I’m being childish?” he asked as he pulled his lips away.
“I think you’re adjusting to a reality that had only been a theory before. Tije seems a nice enough young fellow and Arman would have sent him packing long before this if he wasn’t, so I think you should relax. After all, he’s been around for a long time and Arman hasn’t changed his attitude because of it. You saved Arman’s life, remember? Your friendship with him isn’t based on blood, it’s based on something a lot stronger—respect. You had to earn that, and with Arman, once you’ve got his respect, you don’t lose it.” He kissed Karik’s forehead gently and held him close again. “Now, speaking of your daughter—don’t you want to be there when your Ma gives Kei the news?”
The clouds lifted, and Karik was now simply a proud father with a good joke to play on his best friend. “You bet. Race you?”
Bearing Fruit: 5
Tije looked at his uncle, eyebrows lifted in confusion. “What did I do, Uncle Arman?”
Arman glanced at Kei, who smiled wryly, and answered in his lover’s stead. “Nothing, Tije.” Except exist, perhaps. The wave of jealousy that had boiled out from his nephew had surprised him, but perhaps it shouldn’t have. “Karik didn’t enjoy himself much in Utuk and I think you reminded him of that.”
Tije nodded. “I’m sure it was awful, having to stay with Senator Mekus. I won’t mention it again.”
“Like I said, you did nothing wrong. Karik can be a bit volatile—nothing to do with you, and it never lasts for long.”
“Kei! Are you going to stand around all day?”
His sister stood there with her hands on her hips, trying to sound annoyed but spoiling the effect by grinning. “Oh, so sorry, milady. We’ll be right there to dance attendance on you.” He clapped his hand on Tije’s shoulder. “Come on, it’s time you met the rest of the clan.”
Kei and Myka’s house was bursting at the seams, and only got more squashed as packs and stores were settled and more people came to join them. Tije was introduced and warmly welcomed, then tea and cakes were served to tide everyone over until supper. Conversation centred mainly around village news, Myka saying that she wanted to wait until Karik and Romi arrived before Arman and Kei told everyone about the trip from Urshek.
Not long after, Jena arrived with Reji and Jera, Keiji politely shifting off the long seat so she could sit next to Kei and Arman. Kei had been relieved Jena had greeted him so enthusiastically—he couldn’t detect any shadow on her feelings now as she smiled at him. He wished he could feel as easy as he once had with her, but it would take a while before he could forget their quarrel. He blamed himself entirely for it, but it had made him realise how fragile friendships could be when a loved one was under threat. He’d believed nothing could harm his relationship with Jena, and he’d been proved brutally wrong. He couldn’t yet—perhaps never would be able to—take it for granted again.
The conversation was now pretty deafening, but young Tije listened to all that was going on around him with his usual calm demeanour. Kei had been very impressed with the lad, and thought him a credit to his parents. Though it all must have been very strange to a pampered young nobleman, he’d met every challenge with grace and quiet humour, and not attempted to shirk the least chore or discomfort, sleeping with the other civilians and refusing all special privileges. Kei had sensed Arman’s personal pride in his nephew’s performance, but it’d had wider implications. For many of the people they’d met in the dry regions, the last Prijian aristocrat they’d encountered had been Arman himself, during the war, and that was not calculated to endear the race to anyone.
With his uncle, Tije had proved that not all highborn Prij were arrogant ninnies, or cruel, and that the future of Kuprij could be as enlightened as Nivuman wanted it to be. The fact he spoke perfect Darshianese had gained him friends, and his polite, interested manners had won over those who might have had reason to resent his race or his privileges. In fact, the very first person he’d failed to charm almost immediately had been Karik. It remained to be seen if Kei’s nephew would put aside his petty feelings and learn to appreciate Tije’s good qualities.
We’ll soon find out, Kei thought, waving at Karik and Romi at the door. They’d done a double take at the number of people in the room. “Over here, Ka-chi! Always room for one more, you know.”
“One, yes,” Arman grumbled, but somehow they managed to fit Karik’s compact form into the mess.
Romi, being as big and wide as Reji, didn’t even try to squeeze in, and stood on the edge of the gathering, grinning down at them all. Karik gave Tije a brief smile, but when Tije offered to move to let Romi sit, he only said, “Oh, leave it, I see enough of him.”
Tije blinked a little, then glanced at Kei for reassurance. Kei nudged his nephew. “Karik, manners please. Some people weren’t raised by urs beasts, you know.”
“I don’t know how you would,” Jena said tartly, reaching behind Kei to tug on his braid. “And just who are you calling an urs beast, hmmm?”
“Jena, please, my position!”
“No use, Keichichi,” Reji said, laughing as Jena relented not one whit. “You know no one here’s got any respect for position. Though I could have sworn I raised my boy with better manners than that.”
Karik flushed. Kei frowned at Reji, then put his hand on Karik’s shoulder, feeling his intense mortification at being ticked off by his father, even if only teasingly, in front of his uncles and his as yet unfamiliar cousin. “Only joking, Ka-chi,” he whispered, then looked at Arman who, thankfully, took the hint.
“I suppose you want our news now?” he called over to Myka.
Kei kept his hand on Karik’s shoulder as Arman reported on how things had gone in Utuk. There was a lot to tell, and a lot of questions. Jera raised laughter describing the demonstrations of his Gift he’d given to the sovereign and selected nobles, and then had to promise to do the same for the clan since so many of the people had never met a truly Gifted before.
“And how did it go at Ai-Vinri?” Romi asked, when things got a little quieter.
“Very well. The ban was lifted,” Arman said briefly, glossing over just what a significant and, at times, painful event it had been. Plans to visit Ai-Vinri had been the subject of no little discussion, and caused a huge headache for all concerned, since the ban on the Prij entering it—and Arman especially—was still in place. But at the same time, the clan accepted the authority of the Rulers in Darshek, and it was unthinkable that one of them should be barred from entering.
In the end, Arman had said the decision would be left entirely with the clan, and if they refused him entry, it would be considered a purely personal issue and not have any impact on the dignity of the Rulers or their authority, a fudge which had ma
de Lord Meki grumble a good deal before they had left, but which was really the only realistic option. Kei had resigned himself to spending that part of the journey under canvas, because he would not accept an invitation on his own behalf Arman could not be part of.
But when they had got to the outskirts of Ai-Vinri, they’d been in for a surprise. The caravan was met by all the elders of the clan, who had an invitation to deliver to Arman and to Tije—that they should participate in a ceremony of reconciliation between the two races, so the ban could be lifted. On his own behalf, Arman agreed immediately, and Tije had had no more hesitation, though Arman had been privately worried as to the effect on a young, inexperienced lad.
He needn’t have worried. Fejsik, the now very elderly clan head, had met them in the village, and a clan meeting was held in the square. People were invited to address the meeting and their visitor, mostly the relatives of the ten hostages who had been killed all those years before, speaking of their sorrow and how their lives had been affected. It had been very moving, and rather distressing—but it had been a healing sadness, a shared grief which allowed the burden to lessen. When the clanspeople had finished, Fejsik rose, and had spoken quietly of his own loss of his beloved daughter, and how he had sought to ease his pain by keeping the race which had killed her and the others out of their home.
“But now I am old, and soon will die and be reborn,” he had said, his voice husky and a little weakened with his age. “I don’t want to face my child in my new life with the stain of hate on my soul. Something new must come from our pain. We won a peace at great cost, we placed great trust in our former enemy and it has been repaid many times over. The future does not belong to hate. Arman, please, come forward.”
Arman had done so, and Fejsik extended his hand. “In the memory of my daughter Myri, and the nine others who died, I offer you friendship, Arman of Utuk and Darshek.”
Arman had clasped Fejsik’s hand. “In their memory, for the sake of the Prij who now only want peace with your nation, and in my own name as both a Prij and a Darshianese, I accept your friendship, Fejsik of Ai-Vinri.” He knelt and bowed his head.
Fejsik had placed his hand on Arman’s head. There had been only silence as people looked upon this act of atonement. Kei had sensed great sadness, but also a feeling this was right and good, that it was well done. He had never been more proud of Arman than at this moment, never more glad to have been part of bringing him to Darshian.
But Arman, for now, chose not to give all the details of their time in Ai-Vinri, and Romi accepted his bare assessment without asking for elaboration, though Jena looked at Kei. “Later,” he mouthed, and she nodded. They could have discussed it through her gift, but Kei had too many claims on his attention right now.
Tije smiled at Karik, then said hesitantly, “I suppose you’ll be pleased the ban has been lifted on the Prij, then?”
Karik stiffened. “Actually, it’s never affected me because I’m Darshianese.”
Tije actually leaned back, clearly upset at his gaffe. “Oh...uh, I’m sorry, I meant no offence.”
“Karik, stop being a brat,” Kei said quietly. “Tije, Karik was naturalised as a baby. Arman was made a citizen too, but the ban extended to him personally, not just on account of his race. I was there when Fejsik made that decree—he was very upset, still grieving hard for his daughter. He didn’t have time to think it through, but even just a couple of months later when we were all there again, he had already begun to regret it. I think we gave him the perfect excuse to drop it gracefully, and at the same time do some good for the village.”
“Fejsik’s a good man,” Karik said, nodding. “He could have been really spiteful towards me with my connections, but he was never anything but kind.”
“He’s one of the great clan heads,” Kei said, “and Darshian needs many more like him.”
“I was honoured to meet him,” Tije said. “I don’t think many Prij know what happened in the war, at least not about that incident. If it had happened in a Prijian village, I don’t think either of you would ever be welcome. When I join the government, I intend to make sure this peace lasts.”
Karik was rather startled, as if he’d forgotten Tije would one day be a senator. Kei nodded. “Then I hope your sovereign and his successors help you with that, Tije. So many good things are being done now between our countries. You and Karik are the future all of us have worked so hard for.”
Tije smiled. Karik was still rather tense, and Kei wondered how these two would ever become friends, as he was sure they should be.
“Leave it, Kei.” He jumped, then looked at Jena. “He has to get used to it.” She cleared her throat. “Oh, Kei, there’s a little bit of news that you might be interested in. Mila and Seiki will be needing more of your babysitting services.”
For a moment, he was nonplussed by the abrupt change of subject, then, as he looked at his friend and her son, then up at Reji and Romi, grinning like fools, he whooped and grabbed Jena and Karik into a two-armed hug. “Really? When? I mean, not when, when? And you never said anything, you damn woman!”
Everyone in the room except the new arrivals had heard the news and had just been waiting for his reaction, so he played up to it, scolding Karik and Romi ferociously for keeping the secret. He didn’t have to feign his delight, nor did Arman—Arman was probably even more pleased than Karik, and Karik looked like he was about to split something from smiling.
Tije was completely bewildered, but clearly too polite to ask.
“Karik’s going to be a father again,” Kei said, grinning, but then as Tije raised his eyebrows, and looked over at Romi and then back at Karik in even greater confusion, he realised he’d just committed a major error. “Um, I’ll explain later.”
Karik was glaring at him, and rightly so. “Sorry,” Kei mouthed. Arman shook his head. Oh well, the secret was out. They would soon find out if Tije’s tolerance and accepting manners had a limit.
He didn’t really have a chance to apologise to Karik at the supper—so many people wanted to talk to him and Arman, and this wasn’t something he could thrash out in a crowd. In a few snatched private moments before they’d headed out, when Kei had berated himself for his idiocy, Arman only said it had been a pity Tije hadn’t heard it from Karik himself, and that they would have to explain it later. How, Kei didn’t know. The number of Prijian taboos that Karik, Mila and Seiki had transgressed probably meant, by Tije’s lights, they were beyond any possible redemption.
The travellers were tired, and with the night of the ancestors coming up, no one wanted to make a long evening of it. People drifted back to their houses, guests in tow, after only a couple of hours. Myka and Banji had already gone back to bathe, and his sister told him not to be late.
Arman and Tije were talking to Reji and Fedor. Karik stood with Romi and Keiji, listening to something Peit was saying. Kei wandered over, waited for Peit to finish and go off in search of his wife, then poked Karik’s shoulder. “Would it help if I said I’m an idiot and you can tell me that as often as you like?”
“You’re certainly a big-mouthed idiot,” Karik said, scowling at him. “But I guess it might have come out accidentally anyway, since he’s coming to Utuk. But I won’t have him being rude about Jes or her mothers—I don’t care who his pissing Pa is.”
Kei held his hands up. “Hey, calm down, Ka-chi. Tije hasn’t said a word about it, and he’s not like that, not that I’ve seen.”
“He’s a Prij, they’re all like that,” Karik said, sniffing.
“That’s my broad-minded lover for you,” Romi said. “Karik, you know perfectly well even some of us find it all a bit unconventional. Give the lad a chance.”
“He seems really nice,” Keiji said. “I was talking to him before and he was just normal. It was a bit like talking to Arman, only not so scary.”
Kei laughed. “Sounds about right. Karik, he’s not competition, and never will be. Arman has several nieces and nephews, but you’re his boy, you know that
.”
“Only not really.” Karik glanced at Romi. “Maybe I better explain it to him before he gets to Darshek.”
“Let me—I made the mistake, I’ll fix it.” And I won’t be so defensive, Kei added silently. “Keiji, your Ma said to hurry on back and have a wash. We’ll be along soon and wanting a bath.”
“Yes, uncle Kei. See you all tomorrow!”
Kei waited until he left, before turning back to the other two. “I really am sorry, Ka-chi. I was just so happy, I forgot. It’s such wonderful news.”
“You can make it up to me by making sure Mila is delivered safely,” Karik said, relenting. “Oh, stop looking so worried. I don’t care what Tije thinks.”
“You should,” Kei said, now completely serious. “He really will help govern Kuprij one day, and that’s why I want him to see and learn as much as he can now. Romi, I want you to show him everything you and your team are doing, even take him on field exercises if it’s safe. Karik, this is your chance to address the nation of Kuprij directly, so make the most of it. We built some wonderful bridges in Utuk, but we need to keep strengthening them. Tije’s Pa knows that, and so does the sovereign. Tije won’t be the only nobleman we bring to Darshek, and we have to give them the same message—Darshian wants peace, and wants to share knowledge. We’re no threat, and we won’t be threatened. So stop looking at Tije as competition and see him as a visitor to cultivate. Please, nephew? I’d take it as a personal favour.”
“You don’t have to ask.” Karik gave him a wan smile. “I’m sorry too. I’ll do better tomorrow.”
Kei pulled him into a hug. “Don’t worry, Ka-chi. Now, I better collect everyone, and go and get clean. I really, really need a bath.”
“Ah, Tije’s going to join you?” Romi asked, raising an eyebrow. “That’s rather open-minded for a Prij.”
“He’s a good lad. Got a lot in common with you, Karik, though he’s more polite. Like you were as a boy.” Kei grinned as Karik aimed a mock-slap at him. “And he never tries to hit his elders and betters. Karik, in the morning, I have work for you to do.”
Home Ground (Darshian Tales #4) Page 7