Home Ground (Darshian Tales #4)

by Ann Somerville

  There was a decidedly immovable quality to the man’s stance that truly annoyed Juimei, and his tone was just as implacably unreasonable. “No officer is indispensable, your highness. Lep Tovoi will be acting Tezrei should anything happen to me, or in my absence which will not be a long one in any event. Things are well in hand, and my officers can put our plans in motion as easily as I. You don’t need me either. You’re managing perfectly well.”

  “I forbid it. I absolutely forbid it. If you go with that boy, I’ll have you arrested and charged with treason and gross dereliction. You’ll be in prison for the rest of your life, I swear that on my mother’s life.”

  Wepizi drew himself up to his not inconsiderable height. “As you wish, your highness,” he said coldly. “I have a higher duty, and am prepared to throw myself on your father’s mercy. If that fails, then I’ll still take comfort in knowing I acted according to my orders as I understood them.” He bowed deeply. “I will, of course, cooperate with any action you see fit to take against me on my return. Now, please excuse me.”

  And then the bloody man turned, opened the door and walked out. “Damn you!” Juimei shouted at the retreating back of his most disloyal subordinate. “Damn you to the pits of all hells, Wepizi!”

  ~~~~~~~~

  Wepizi closed his eyes as he heard the angry shout of his governor, his boss—someone he had almost started to consider a friend, more fool him. Juimei had disappointed him—more than disappointed him. But now it was done, and he had his duty to perform. Whether he would have a position to return to, he didn’t know, but for now, he would do what he knew had to be done.

  “Wepizi, I don’t want you to lose your job.”

  He jumped a little. “You know, I really would appreciate a little warning, Nuveize.”

  “I’m sorry—you get used to it. I don’t want you to get into trouble.”

  “I won’t. And if I do, too bad. Did you talk Jozin into this?”

  “No. He stopped listening to me hours ago. He’s listened to you though. He listened to your angry prince. That had more effect than anything I could have said.”

  “Ah. Do you know what’s upset Juimei?”

  “Yes.”

  He waited, but there was no further information. “And?”

  “Wepizi, one thing people with my Blessing very quickly learn is that if people can’t trust you to keep their secrets, they’ll never trust you at all. If I tell you what’s in Juimei’s mind, then you’ll never believe I wouldn’t do the same thing to you.”

  “Ah, yes. My apologies for asking.” But that didn’t stop him burning with curiosity, as well as anger. “Would you mind telling Jozin I need him?”

  “He’s here. They’re hiding.”

  Wepizi turned, and indeed, Jozin was lurking in front of a house just a little way down from the shop. Neime was with him. He walked over to them.

  “Are you all right?” he asked.

  “Is he very angry?” Neime asked, anxious-eyed, twisting his hands. “I thought if I let you two talk...but then I heard him shouting. Wepizi...what’s wrong with him? He was fine yesterday, but he’s been like a demon today.”

  “I honestly have no idea, son, but I think it’s all centred on me, so you have a good chance of making peace with him. Jozin, I just need to speak to my officers, and then we can go.”

  “Maybe we shouldn’t,” the boy said, tugging on a lock of hair in what seemed to be a habitual gesture of unease. “I don’t want to cause trouble.”

  “You won’t.” Wepizi made himself smile with far more confidence than he felt, and sent a silent plea to Nuveize not to reveal his secret. “His highness is not the final authority in this land, and I act on the orders of the king and council. Besides—Nuveize’s already expecting us. How long will it take to get there?”

  Jozin suddenly looked shifty. “Not long,” he said, glancing at Neime.

  “Ah—back before nightfall?”

  “Maybe.”

  Wepizi sighed in exasperation—he was already on edge from the confrontation, so unexpected, with Juimei, and if he really was going to desert his post, he at least wanted to know for how long. “I need to know when I’m coming back.”

  “I’ll bring you back when you want to come back.”

  “Fine. Give me one hour, meet me here. Neime...maybe you better go back to his highness.”

  “Yes. I’ll try and calm him down.”

  For Neime’s sake, he hoped he succeeded. For his own...ah, well. It was sad to have his initial assessment proved correct, when he’d so desperately wanted it to be wrong, but there was nothing for it.

  “One hour,” he repeated, then strode quickly down the street to the barracks, where Tovoi was directing the resurrection of the sleeping quarters.

  His officer wasn’t happy with his plans, and when Wepizi had to decline to explain his reasons, he could tell that Tovoi had very similar thoughts to the prince. “And if you don’t return, sir?”

  “Then you are tezrei. Normally, I wouldn’t consider doing anything of the kind, lep. This is an extraordinary situation.”

  “I hope so, sir,” Tovoi said, politely holding almost all the scepticism out of his voice. “Will you need supplies?”

  “No...wait. Something sweet—fruit, perhaps,” he mused, thinking of what he could bring to four hungry Blessed that would show his good intentions.

  Tovoi was completely confused now. “Sir?”

  Wepizi realised he was only making things worse for the man. “Never mind, I’ll get it at the market. Carry on, Tovoi. If things go well, I’ll be back before night fall. If not...you have your orders.”

  “Yes, sir. Good luck, and Sephiz prosper you.”

  Wepizi thanked him and accepted the salute, hoping he wasn’t as crazy as his subordinate clearly thought he was. Then he returned to the square, heading towards the surprisingly busy market. The fruit and vegetable seller was doing decent business with householders fortunate enough to still have their homes, and so the luxury of cooking their own food. After the earthquake, his stock had been commandeered like the other stall holders’, but he must have found farmers with more to sell, for though his display was sadly diminished, he had several baskets of early fruit and more of vegetables and tubers proudly set out on his boards.

  He bowed as Wepizi approached. “Tezrei, may I help you?”

  “Yes, if you would be so kind—I need some fruit. Sweet, the kind of thing to appeal to children.”

  He rubbed his chin. “Hmmm, it’s the wrong time of year for that—but....” He raised a finger, a thought clearly striking him. “I’ve got some late-gathered umis nuts, just came in yesterday. Children love those.”

  “Yes, perfect.” The delicious nuts would be perfect as gift offerings to hungry youngsters. He had no idea of the ages of the other Blessed, but he would assume young, and hope that older ones would appreciate his gift.

  He had to put it on tick, since his coin purse was at the residence, but the grocer was happy to give him credit. Wepizi picked up the heavy sack, tucked it under his arm, and though he was twenty minutes short of the hour, he went looking for Jozin. As he thought he might be, the lad was still hanging around the square—well, where would he go, when he knew hardly anyone and trusted none? He brightened a little as he saw Wepizi.

  “Ready?” Wepizi asked. “Have you told Iome?”

  He nodded. “She’s pleased,” he said somewhat sourly. “She thinks this is a good idea. But she didn’t see Juimei before.”

  Wepizi laid a reassuring hand on his shoulder. “Don’t worry about the prince, Jozin. He won’t harm you or Iome. He’s got a nasty tongue, but he doesn’t actually bite.”

  “I don’t understand...it scares me. How can we trust him?”

  Which was why Wepizi was so angry Juimei couldn’t have kept his damn temper under control at least around Jozin and Iome. But he smiled and downplayed the significance of the prince’s tantrum.

  “He’s got his troubles, son, but I have no
doubt if he gives you his word, he’ll keep it. In truth, all the advantage is yours in this situation, so you should relax.” That made Jozin look rather thoughtful, but Wepizi didn’t want to let him obsess over it. “Come on, the daylight’s wasting. How do we do this?”

  “Let’s get away from the square.”

  They slipped down beside one of the half demolished houses and down towards the town wall. Once out of sight, Jozin waved his hand somewhat negligently, and then they rose into the air. Wepizi clutched the sack of umis nuts to his chest, and tried not to look as terrified as he felt.

  “Hold on—I’m going to go fast, so we aren’t seen,” Jozin said as they drew level with the roofs.

  Suddenly, Wepizi’s stomach lurched as they shot hundreds of feet into the air in just moments. He was too shocked to even gasp as the ground receded and they rose even above the birds, seeming to be as high as the very mountains. But then the acceleration halted, and they hung motionless above the ruined town. Dizeindo looked no bigger than the span of his two hands from this height, while all of Huoinevol region, the mighty river, stretched out in both directions, verdant and apparently whole—until he looked down upon the shattered buildings, saw the cracks in roads and roofs and the ragged camp full of homeless citizens.

  In a way, it was good people couldn’t see it the way he was now, because they might despair even more that it could ever be put right. He finally remembered to look at Jozin, and found the boy watching him closely.

  “I’m lost for words,” Wepizi said. “It’s beyond amazing.”

  Jozin smiled, and Wepizi realised there had been a little showing off in that incredible display. “You’re the first normal to see Andon this way in a hundred years,” he said. “Are you all right?”

  “Now I’ve got my breath. I...will never forget this.”

  That made Jozin’s smile slip. “You will if Nuveize makes you. Come on.”

  They moved off, but without the sickening speed, and without rising any higher. Here and there they flew over farms, and one of the nearby settlements, saw carts on the road heading towards the town, but no one noticed them. If anyone thought to look straight up, they might wonder what strange birds were above them, but most people never lifted their eyes that far, as Wepizi well knew. Jozin and his kind could have been flying over their heads for years and never been seen at all, and even if they had been, people would think they were imagining things.

  “Do you often fly in the daytime?”

  “Hmmm, yes. But not near the town. Not unless we have to.”

  They approached the Tuqul range, and Wepizi couldn’t help thinking how jealous Karik would be to know that he had such an unimpeded close view of the Tuquls, and of Mount Karvelino further away, steam rising from its crater. This wasn’t one of the tallest ranges in Andon, but there was permanent snow on the highest peaks and the volcano, and in the deep shadowed clefts, thick ice would form every night on the pools and small lakes.

  They were very high now, and the air was very much colder, bone-chilling in fact. Wishing he was wearing heavier clothes, Wepizi tucked his hands under his armpits to warm them. It was harder to breathe, and he hoped Jozin realised not everyone was used to this kind of thing.

  “You live up here?” he asked, wondering how a group of people could remain concealed in these mountains travelled by hunters and herders and miners looking for new shafts to sink.

  “Not exactly.”

  “But—”

  “Be quiet, Wepizi.”

  In his element, Jozin was a different person completely—assured, almost arrogant in his power. And if Wepizi annoyed him, all the boy had to do was drop him. From this height, he’d be nothing but a smear on the ground when they found him. So he shut up, and wondered what Jozin was up to.

  They had been following the main road from the mountains, and now the cracks and warping of the ground caused by the quake were obvious. The fault line lay across the road, near to where it rose into the mountains, a huge gash in the earth, the land on the southern side perceptibly lower than on the other side of it—no wheeled vehicle would be crossing it anytime soon. A barn lay half-collapsed close by the road, though the farm house, a little further on, seemed solid enough. Then he looked beyond that, up through the pass, and now saw houses and signs of human habitation set into the hills.

  “This is the mining settlement?” Wepizi said, surprised. Surely the Blessed didn’t live here.

  “Yes.”

  They came to a halt, high above the main pass, totally blocked by enormous rocks and a massive landslide of mud and dirt. It would take months, years for the miners to clear this, and there really wasn’t another route down from the mountains on which heavy goods could be moved. It would mean the ore from the mountain simply could not be taken out in bulk, rendering the operations pointless.

  But Jozin had other ideas. Suddenly, gigantic boulders of granite and basalt, weighing thirty tons or more, groaned and shifted, grinding with a deafening sound as they moved.

  “Are you doing that?” Wepizi asked his companion in astonishment.

  “Of course. The weight makes no difference to me,” Jozin said, as if it was elementary.

  To him it probably was—to Wepizi, it was more than he could easily take in. All he could do was watch, his mouth hanging open in amazement, as huge rocks rose into the air with no more sense of effort than of wind-blown leaves, making the mass of soil and earth shiver and judder, filling the space they left behind. The boulders were tossed almost casually far to the left and right of the road, and then the road itself...it was like a hand passing through sand, clearing a path.

  People had begun to notice something very strange was going on, and even so high, their shouts of surprise and terror drifted up to Wepizi and Jozin as they stared in amazement at the earth coming to life again. None of them thought to look above their heads to the real source of the miracle.

  From up here, it looked like a child’s sandpit—below, it must have as been as frightening as another earthquake, which was what people probably thought it was. But it wasn’t, it was Jozin, directing, shifting, his face tight in concentration, as thousands of tons of rocks and dirt were pushed aside with no more difficulty than a handful of grain. It took mere minutes to clear what had been an impossible, impenetrable mass. What had been impassable, was a clear path once more.

  But Jozin wasn’t finished. Like a malevolent cloud, thousands of tons of rubble rose in the air and floated down the mountainside, like some bizarre aerial landslide. Frightening though the sight was, and though it made people scream and run for cover, the rubble had a benign purpose, as Jozin poured it into the gigantic gash in the earth left by the earthquake, jammed it down and compacting it so that the road was now open, usable and safe.

  It would have taken three hundred men more than a year to do what had taken fewer than ten minutes, and even then, it wouldn’t have been as perfectly done. Unable to believe this had happened so quickly, so easily, Wepizi stared like a simpleton at the repaired road, at the restoration of this lifeline for the settlement, then looked at the young man who had wrought the miracle.

  He started to try and express his feelings, but Jozin put his finger to his lips. “Not done yet. Wait.”

  Puzzled, Wepizi had no choice but to obey. Again Jozin concentrated, but nothing seemed to be happening below at all, other than people still running around below them in obvious bewilderment.

  Finally, he turned to Wepizi and gave him a slightly shy smile. “I unblocked the tunnels in the mines. I felt the miners still moving around, so they’re alive.”

  Wepizi gaped. “You...you just saved twenty men’s lives?” Jozin nodded. “Well done, Jozin. Well done indeed. I’m very proud of you.” The lad hung his head briefly as if in embarrassment, but then he looked up at Wepizi with smiling eyes from under his auburn fringe. “Truly. Thank you. You should go down, let them thank you too.”

  “No. People get too scared of me. That’s why I had to leave my
home, my family. Why we all did.” The smile in his eyes died and Wepizi got a glimpse of the grief that lay underneath all the bravado, the rudeness, the need to be in charge. “Sometimes I really miss my mother,” he whispered.

  Wepizi was close enough to reach him, so he put his arm out, hooked the boy close and hugged him tight, with no words to express how much he wished the world did not fear children with such powers, that Jozin could have had a normal life, and still be free to be himself. But the world did not accept those who were different, or strange, and when one added that suspicion to the fear such astonishing abilities could cause....

  “She would be very proud of you too,” he said quietly. “This was a very good thing you did. A wonderful thing.”

  “I just heard you talking...and I thought, it would be so simple.”

  And no doubt part of the reason for his puzzling demand for an instant decision on Wepizi coming with him. “Simple, but still astonishing.” He let the lad go—how easy to forget they were standing in thin air. “If you don’t want to go down, then maybe we should move on.”

  “Yes.”

  This time he took Wepizi’s hand, and Wepizi was glad of the connection for all kinds of reasons.

  They flew across the mountains, even over the highest snow-bound peaks, nearly as high as Mount Karvelino itself. Wepizi wondered if they would leave Huoinevol district altogether. With Jozin’s powers, they could travel hundreds of miles in a single day and still return by sunset. But it turned out they were going nowhere near that far, and to his surprise, it wasn’t even all that well concealed—it was in a high valley, isolated, certainly, but not utterly inaccessible. Jozin seemed to realise what Wepizi was thinking.

  “If anyone comes near, Nuveize deters them,” he said. “They change their mind about coming closer. People don’t realise there’s much up here anyway.”

  “And is there?” Wepizi asked.

  “Not any more,” Jozin said solemnly. “We’re here.”

  He brought them down on to a small grassed clearing, no bigger than some houses boasted for a garden. As their feet touched solid ground, Wepizi heard Jozin’s name being called excitedly and then three children ran over. Jozin swept them all up, hugged them all tightly, and for a few moments, Wepizi was utterly forgotten. But when Jozin stood up, the children turned and went very still, staring at him with big eyes. They were a girl and two boys, and the oldest of them could only be twelve or thirteen. All thin like Jozin and Iome and Laovei, all with ragged, overlong hair. Their clothes were clean but worn, well-patched, and looking very much as if they had been handed down from larger children.