“How could he not?” Romi said, smiling at his lover. Karik smiled back a little uncertainly. “But you said nothing she’d told you changes the situation. What are the Rulers going to do?”
Arman shook his head. “Delay and hope for a miracle. It’s all we can do. Nivuman might grant a measure of clemency but it would be more than the populace would accept—he already granted her a reprieve by not sending troops to the Welensi islands and dragging them back to face their sentence. She’s been stupid enough to break cover—he can’t ignore that. But we can’t send her back to die. The only sure thing is that we can and will insist that the children stay. The Prij don’t want them, and even this Cirin wouldn’t have a higher claim than Karik, not without a legal battle it’s guaranteed he won’t want.” He rubbed his eyes, looking old and exhausted. “Nephew, Romi—can I beg your kindness and ask you to come home tonight? Kei will want to see you, and it would make me feel much better if you did.”
Karik put his arms around his uncle again. “Of course,” he said. “Arman, I’m sorry.”
“You, lad, have no need to apologise. You’re the only real innocent in this whole business. You and those two unfortunate boys.”
“What will happen to them? Will you let her keep them here? The quarters aren’t really suitable for children.”
Arman sighed, and picked up his neglected tea. “I know—I need to speak to people. My feeling is that they should be removed for their own safety. She’s not got a maternal bone in her body, and though they’re devoted to her, she cares nothing for them. As their brother, you’ll be involved in the decision, if you wish to be. If you don’t, then no one will force you. But right now, you’re the presumptive guardian.”
Karik’s cheeks reddened a little as he blinked in surprise. “Me? A guardian?”
“Certainly. If you don’t want to be, then we’ll find someone else. But Lord Meki is ready to declare her unfit to keep the children simply on the basis of her criminal record. In theory, this man in the Welensi Islands could take the younger child, but we need to keep them together.”
He got to his feet. “But I think I need to discuss this with other people, Kei being the first one. Come home, nephew. I find myself in need of my family around me.”
Bearing Fruit: 9
Karik stood too, putting his hand on his uncle’s arm in silent apology for the hurt he’d caused. It had been unforgivable to spit in Arman’s face like that—it wasn’t as if Arman had made his mother the biggest slut in Kuprij. Arman gave him a small, sad smile at the gesture, but then stiffened, apparently concentrating on something. Karik recognised the symptoms of a man talking to a mind-speaker and stayed quiet so Arman could do what he had to.
It didn’t take long, and then Arman shook his head, looking rueful. “Ah—it seems Kei was worried about me and has been eavesdropping on our conversation. Saves time in explanations at least.”
“Oh.” Karik wasn’t delighted that Kei had heard his tantrum, but he couldn’t blame the man for being worried about his family. “What does he say?”
“He says the thing we all need is Jes. And Seiki agrees with him.”
Karik grinned despite himself. “That’s a wonderful idea—uh, but what about Tije? Doesn’t he disapprove?”
“I think, faced with the reality, his opinions are likely to soften considerably. Anyway, we’re all invited to their house for supper, so I’m going to abuse my position, order a calash, and take us all over there. Nothing like the wholesomeness of a three-year-old to take the taste of all this away,” he added, sounding very much as if he wished he could spit the memory out of his mouth and his mind. “Unless you would rather we didn’t?”
“No—I want to see her and Seiki and Mila. Tije just better not say anything—I’m not in the mood.”
Romi came up and kissed his forehead. “Arman, your nephew’s had some warning, I presume?”
“Kei will explain. The lad’s not insensitive, Karik. Be fair. He’s done his best to understand, and he wouldn’t deliberately hurt anyone.”
“I hope not,” Karik muttered, fully prepared to thump Tije if he even breathed the suggestion of an insult about his daughter. Gods—he had a half-brother Jes’s age! And a full brother only a little older. He couldn’t take it all in. He needed...Kei, Jes, and more hugs, he guessed.
And he had another father—that made three, he thought wryly, though he’d not really considered Arman a father, though he was in law. At least in Prijian law. No wonder Arman looked like he was starting a migraine—this was hellaciously complicated.
They were cutting out early, but not even Romi’s stern colonel would have argued with Arman. Things might have been different if the team was in the barracks, but they weren’t, for which Karik was desperately grateful. He was so tired, and if Seiki hadn’t invited them over, he’d have gone for an early night, but nothing would be better than seeing his darling girl and his friends.
As the calash took them quickly through the hot afternoon sun along the harbour road and past the Rulers’ House, Arman was rather distant, not paying either of them much attention. Dealing with Mayl had to have been unpleasant under any circumstances—she’d always been so vile about him, and that was before Karik had known about the sleazy legal deal. Gods, no wonder Arman had been in a temper on that journey home from Utuk. Karik looked back on that time and thought it a minor miracle Arman hadn’t thrown him into the sea.
Romi kept hold of him the entire ride, and though Karik felt ashamed his lover had seen his poor behaviour once again, he was eternally grateful Romi had been there to support him. Never alone again, he thought, looking at Romi with love in his heart and in his eyes. It made such a difference. Romi gave him a smile and squeezed his hand. “It’ll be all right, love. Nothing we can’t handle. We’ve faced worse.”
“Yes, we have.” He leaned his head on Romi’s shoulder—Arman gave them a brief fond smile, then resumed his rather distracted stare into nothingness. Maybe he was talking to Kei. Or maybe he was just trying to make sense of this situation. It would distract anyone.
Kei, Mila and Jes were waiting at the door for them. Though Kei gave him a quick smile, he really only had eyes for Arman, going straight to him and embracing him tightly. Karik let them have their time—he had someone claiming him.
“Pa! Romi-Pa! Home!”
He grinned at his daughter, and knelt so she could run into his arms. “Yes, we’re home, sweetheart.” Oh, gods, he loved this child. She smelled clean and good, like purity incarnate. “Have you been good while I’ve been away, Jes?”
“Yes, I have. Tell him, Ma.”
Mila was even bigger now, and holding her back as if it ached. “She’s been pretty good. Mostly good,” she added with a wink.
“I’m glad to hear that. You still have your doll, I see. Have you named him yet?”
“Uh huh,” she said, nodding vigorously, holding it up for the world to see. It was showing signs of use, but holding up well. Romi had done such a good job on it. “This is Jem-chi.”
He stared at her in surprise. “Jem? I knew a Jembis once. Where did you get that name, darling?” Had Gyo mentioned it in her hearing when he was up last? But she couldn’t have remembered it.
But his child had a simpler, if more unlikely explanation. “He just told me,” she said, nodding firmly, before taking his hand and tugging. “Come in, come in now. Everyone come in now.”
“I think we have to go inside,” Karik said, grinning up at Romi. He glanced over at Kei and Arman—they were still holding each other, but now watching Jes queening it up, Kei smiled a little. “Well, come on, what are you waiting for, Jei-chi?”
He’d forgotten, for the moment, that there was one more guest, and was slightly shocked to see Tije sitting calmly in the kitchen, peeling tubers and talking to Seiki. His ‘cousin’ smiled politely as they came in, and stood. “That’s Tijiki,” Jes announced. “He’s got no hair, Pa. Why?”
Karik grinned. “Um, well, maybe he lost it
in a fight with a carcho, or even a tewi. How did you lose your hair, Tijiki? Did a tuktuk steal it?”
Tije raised an eyebrow at his insolence, then knelt down so he was at Jes’s level. “I’ll tell you, but it’s a secret so you can’t tell anyone else.” He motioned her forward, then whispered in her ear, while she smothered giggles with her hands. When he was done, he stood up. “Now you mustn’t tell anyone. Promise?”
“I promise! Poor Tijiki, no hair!”
“Don’t be rude, Jes,” Seiki said, then turned to her lover. “Darling, sit down, and I’ll get you some tea. Everyone sit down, we’re almost done.”
Arman insisted on making the tea and serving it. Jes sat on Karik’s lap—from time to time she would look at Tije and giggle, something he made worse by pulling faces. Well, he was closer to her age, Karik thought, feeling a lot more relaxed about the competition for Jes’s attention than he would have expected. Tije wasn’t being overtly hostile to any of them, whatever private reservations he had—but those couldn’t be too great, or Seiki wouldn’t be so nice to him.
Mila still wasn’t having an easy time of her pregnancy, and Seiki was protective of her, waiting on her hand and foot and making sure Jes didn’t jump on her too much. Kei suggested they went outside, since he was sure the fresh air would do them all good—he was looking with some concern at Mila, and as they walked out behind the others, Karik whispered to his uncle, “Is everything all right?”
“Yes. She’s just been suffering nausea, not uncommon even this late in the pregnancy as you know. I’ve suggested she rests more, and eats smaller, more regular meals. But she’s fine. Are you?”
“No. But I’m glad I’m here. Kei, I was awful to Arman.”
Kei stopped, then patted his shoulder. “He understands, nephew. We’ll talk later but I felt you all needed some quiet time. Try not to let it prey on your mind.”
“Easier said.”
“Yes, I know,” his uncle said kindly. “Go play with your child.”
Seiki and Mila had found themselves a comfortable place on a bench. Arman, Romi and Tije were already playing catch with Jes’s ball, tossing it to her and waiting for her to choose who to throw it back to. She had more than enough people to amuse her, so Karik sat down next to Seiki. She turned to him with a worried expression. “Are you mad at me?”
He kissed her cheek. “No. Relieved. I wasn’t looking forward to telling Kei all that or listening to it again.” He realised she would know the truth. “Is Mayl lying or not?”
“I can’t answer that, Karik, you know I can’t.”
“But you know, don’t you?”
“Yes. And once I get the correct consent, I’ll tell you. I’m so sorry, darling. She seems such a horrible person and you’re so lovely.”
“She didn’t raise me. I now know how lucky I am. Seiki—I have two brothers.”
She patted his hand. “Yes, I know. I don’t know what Arman should do. As a mother, the idea of someone taking her children away seems so cruel, and yet...I’ve seen into her mind and....” She shuddered. “She doesn’t care for them at all. She hates them for needing her, especially the littlest one.”
Karik could scarcely believe anyone could resent children so small and helpless. “Will she hurt them? We can’t let her.”
“I don’t think she will. Not physically anyway.” She looked over at where her daughter was giggling madly because she had ‘fooled’ Arman into thinking she was going to throw the ball. “But she’d never do that with them. It’s so sad. The older one? He’s been upset because he lost his ‘father’ but he really misses Zexu—that’s Ry-chi’s Pa. He was the only parental figure in their lives who was really fond of them, and then their Ma took them away from him. They both miss him.”
“Maybe we should send them back to him. “
But even as he had that thought, he knew that wouldn’t be possible. Minan wouldn’t be adopted by the islanders, from everything he’d heard about that race—and the small Prijian expatriate community wouldn’t want him either.
“They’ll find a home, Karik. Kei and Arman are determined about that.” She smiled suddenly. “Your cousin’s a really nice young man. I remember him from the first time—but he’s got so tall and handsome.”
“Don’t let madam hear that,” he teased.
“He’s not as good-looking as she is,” Seiki said, her cheeks dimpling. “It’s good to have you back, Karik. I just wish this wasn’t happening.”
“Me too. But don’t fret about it.”
The only blight on supper was Mila having to excuse herself early, unable to face the meal. Seiki took over in the kitchen, while Kei spoke to Mila in her room, feeding her medicinal tea and reassuring her, then came back and announced she was asleep. “Kei, is she going to be all right?” Seiki asked, keeping her voice low so Jes, sitting on Arman’s lap and chatting happily, couldn’t hear.
“Absolutely. This is normal, Seiki, though I know it’s worrying. That tea will help and we can adjust her diet a little. Mainly, she should take things easier. But the baby is fine and other than the nausea, so is she.”
Seiki smiled with relief. “Thank you. I get so worried, and with you away, I never really felt completely sure.”
“Ah, I’ll have to speak to my people about their bedside manners if they can’t reassure a young mother. It’s a tough job, but they should be up to it,” he added with a grin. “Now, let me help you.”
The subject of Mayl and all the painfulness of that topic was kept firmly out of the conversation. Seiki wanted to hear all about the journey from their own lips, even though she’d been in contact many times over the past few months. She drew Tije out shamelessly, and before long he was her devoted creature as much as any of them. It was so funny, really, considering Tije had apparently thought she was being deceived by her lover and her friend, and had been feeling sorry for Seiki, or so Kei had said. Now, between her daughter and herself, Seiki had won him over completely. Karik could even imagine him going back to Utuk and preaching the benefits of assisted insemination for the infertile, and the mischief-maker in him wished he could see it happen. It would shake that damn society up, for sure.
But his opinion on Prijian society was somewhat out of date, because if what Kei had reported was true, the society was already shaken up well and truly. And Tije was surely a sign of that, or at least of what it could be. Karik had to admit if Tije did represent the new thinking in Kuprij, then Prijian society might be a far better place than he could ever have imagined it.
When the meal was over, Seiki put her daughter to bed, and checked on her lover. When she came back, she reported Mila was now sleeping peacefully for which Seiki was very grateful, and then she took Romi, Kei and Arman into the sitting room, leaving the ‘infants’ as she cheekily put it, to clear up.
“Hmpf, infants,” Tije said with disgust. “Back home, I’m the oldest.”
“Back home, I’m the only one,” Karik said, rolling his sleeves up. “I always wished I’d had a brother or sister.”
“Now you do. How does it feel?”
Karik looked at the man, not sure how honest he wanted to be. “Odd. It doesn’t feel real. Like the fact in theory my biological father isn’t Pa, but in reality, Pa is Pa. Tije, um....”
“Yes?”
“Arman...isn’t my real father. I don’t know what you know or what you’ve been told but...he’s not.”
Tije blushed. “Um...actually, Kei...explained. He, um, explained a lot of things. About Mayl. And uncle Arman.... He said it wasn’t something any of you were happy about. I’m sorry—I mean, I’m sorry if I caused any offence or said anything or—”
Karik held up his hand. “It’s all right. I just didn’t want you to think less of Arman for sending me away to my parents. To Jena and Reji, I mean. Gods, these conversations always end up with me trying to find about three words for the same thing!”
“You mean like Jes with two mothers?”
“And three grandmothers, a
nd two Pas and the gods alone know how many ‘aunts’, ‘uncles’ and ‘cousins’...see, for me, family isn’t just about blood.”
Tije nodded as he drew hot water off from the cistern and into a bowl. “I think I understand. It’s like Mari—she’s not married to Grandfather, but she’s been there all my life. She’s part of us. Were you ever sorry you weren’t uncle Arman’s son? He’s such a wonderful man—if my father weren’t my father, then I’d want him.” He flushed again. “Um...that didn’t come out right....”
“I know what you mean. Sometimes I’m sorry because he is such a good man—but no one’s better than my Pa.”
“My father is,” Tije said, tilting his chin defiantly.
Karik grinned at his pride, and decided to tease. “No he’s not. I’d fight you over it except it’d be a waste of time and you’d lose anyway.”
“That’s what you think—I’ve been trained with sword and lance.”
“I can beat that—I was trained by the meanest corporal in Darshian. And she’s a damn dirty fighter.”
“She? You fought with a woman?”
“Sure did. She left me black and blue.” He laughed at Tije’s horrified expression. “Jou can outfight almost every man she ever meets, except Romi and that’s only because he outweighs her by fifty pounds and is a foot taller and an even dirtier fighter than she is. She’d kick your arse from here to Utuk.”
Tije pursed his lips primly. “I would never hit a woman. It’s dishonourable.”
“Then she’d kick you all the way to the Welensi Islands. Then laugh at you while you lay there and wondered how she did it.”
“She sounds a complete harridan,” Tije muttered, picking up a pot to scrub.
Karik scrapped off some leavings into the scraps bucket. “She’s wonderful. I’m still hoping she’ll join us up here. She was great in Andon—she beat the crap out of these huge tribal men, and they couldn’t work out how this little tiny woman dumped them on their arses. It was really funny.”
Home Ground (Darshian Tales #4) Page 12