Home Ground (Darshian Tales #4)

by Ann Somerville

  “Jui?”

  He didn’t even look up, afraid to betray his anger even more. “Why are you still here, Neime?”

  “Why are you so angry with Wepizi? He’s only trying to help the Blessed.”

  Juimei threw his pencil down so hard it actually broke. “By the benevolent god! Are you hard of understanding? Wepizi answers to me. He disobeyed a direct command. We are under emergency rule here. I rule, for what that’s worth. If people are just going to go off and do as they bloody well please, then my authority means absolutely nothing. If people want to argue with me, put a contrary view, then fine. But to simply disobey as you and Wepizi have done, cannot be forgiven. I do not forgive. Either of you,” he said, narrowing his eyes at his page. His friend, certainly. But right now, an insubordinate underling.

  Neime’s jaw worked. “I see. Then please excuse me, your highness. As you say, I have work to do.”

  “Yes, you damn well do.”

  He refused to relent or soften his expression at all. Neime bowed formally, then left. Juimei got up, limped to the door, and slammed it shut with all the force of his frustration. Doubtless Neime thought he was being capricious. Doubtless Wepizi thought him an emotionally stunted, physically crippled idiot. Which he was, but not a capricious one. Neither of them thought he needed to be taken seriously. That was most likely his fault. But it didn’t mean he didn’t want to kick something hard. He slammed his arm against the door. This was the line he could not cross. Even for a man as good and decent and honourable as Wepizi. Some things transcended the personal.

  He wrenched open the door, stuck his head out of it, and barked at one of the soldiers standing guard, “Get me Lep Tovoi.” Then he turned and went back to his desk. He would do his duty, and then....

  And then, when the crisis was over, he would resign. He wasn’t fit in any sense for this job.

  Home Ground: 20

  Preparations for departure took the Blessed surprisingly little time. Apart from clothes, a few personal trinkets, a couple of books, Nuveize said they would leave the rest behind, much to Wepizi’s confusion. “We can come back,” she said. “And if we don’t...others of our kind know of this place. None of this belongs to us alone.”

  The youngsters were eager, though their excitement was rather subdued for children of their age. Jozin seemed worried.

  “Not sure about this, son?” Wepizi asked, watching him tie some ragged shirts and worn trousers into a bundle.

  “If Yuzin were alive, we’d not have to do this. He’d disagree about this.” He sat and then looked up at Wepizi with tired, almost desperate eyes. “We’ve spent so long hiding from normals, and now we’re just going to walk in and live with you? You don’t know what it was like in my settlement. It’s worse for people with my talent, or fire like Kilinze. When we’re very young, we have no idea what we’re doing, or how to control it. People get hurt, accidents happen—and people are terrified of us. The people in my tribe even said I should be killed, because I was a curse. What’ll happen if people say that about Helinoa? She’s the same as me.”

  He could hardly claim these were small matters, and Jozin had had to live with the fear and the ostracism, not him.

  “I won’t pretend that everyone will accept you, or not be afraid of you. I honestly don’t have any idea how this will go. A lot will depend on how you behave, how much control you have over your temper and your reactions. You’ll need to be patient. And I think you’re wrong about Yuzin. From what Nuveize’s told me, he loved all of you very much. The one thing he wanted above all else was for you to be safe, and happy. Nuveize doesn’t have a better idea. Right now, neither do I.”

  “But once we do this...we can’t go back.”

  “No.” Wepizi supposed Nuveize could play with their memories, but it wouldn’t really be the same as not doing it in the first place. And the problem would still be there. “You need to have faith. Sephiz watches over you, don’t forget.”

  “Your god has nothing to do with us,” Jozin said roughly. “Or he hates us. Not sure which, and I don’t care. If he watched over us, then Timinke would be alive, Laovei would have her foot.”

  Wepizi was as unlikely to convince Jozin with his arguments as he had the prince, and there was nothing he could say that would not sound crass. “Then, my friend,” he said gently, “if you won’t believe in Sephiz’s protection, believe in mine. I am tezrei of this region. That counts for a lot. I won’t allow you or the others to be attacked. Not even by the king himself.”

  “What about his son?”

  “Ah, well, you leave him to me. Are you ready?” he said, lifting his voice to carry to the others.

  “Yes,” Nuveize said simply, walking over with Helinoa holding her hand. “Neime says to just bring everyone to the prince’s residence. Are you sure that’s a good idea?”

  “If he says it is, then it is. Don’t worry about Juimei. So far, the only person I’ve seen him be actively unkind to, is me. You have no need to worry.”

  She gave him an odd look. “Jozin? You do this. Helinoa, just let him take charge.”

  It was as simple as that. Great wooden doors sealed up their cavern from the elements, though they weren’t locked, and probably could never be. Then they walked out onto the little patch of grass, took each other’s hands, and rose into the air. The children clung to each other, Jozin holding Nuveize’s left hand, while Wepizi held her right.

  “I haven’t done this for a while.”

  “Since Yuzin?”

  He made sure he kept looking down so she could see, but he didn’t need to watch her face to know how sad she was.

  “Yes. I don’t have to tell you how empty my life feels without him.”

  “No. But to have the children with you, must have been a comfort.”

  “Oh yes. We really thought of them as our own. Jozin cried for a month when Yuzin passed away. It hit him almost as hard as it did me. He wanted so to be like him. He is like him, in many ways. Same brave heart, same recklessness. Same need to love and trust.”

  “They all seem good children.”

  “They are. I haven’t really allowed myself to fall apart over Timinke, but if I stop for even a moment to think, it’s too much to bear. All I can tell myself is that at least he didn’t suffer. But I miss him, Wepizi. Him and Yuzin. My family is broken.”

  “Then let us help you mend it.”

  She didn’t reply. He didn’t even know if he could help. He didn’t know what awaited him back in Dizeindo. He’d not been party to Neime’s brief conversation with Nuveize, and so didn’t know if he’d said anything about Juimei’s mood. Wepizi felt his own uncharacteristically rash decision had proved justified—but he did wonder if the decision had been entirely his own. Even as the thought entered his head, he glanced guiltily at Nuveize, knowing she must have heard it.

  “It’s all right, Wepizi. I can’t blame you for being suspicious. I did nothing to you, and would not. I never have, except to protect my family.”

  “But...this is protection too.”

  “For that, I only had to rely on your decency and kindness. That’s not something I can create.”

  He bowed a little, but then remembered she couldn’t see him. “My apologies. I’m a little...disturbed.”

  “The prince...is also disturbed. I’m truly sorry about that.”

  “Oh well. His highness has a job to do, as do I. Now, can you see what Jozin did?”

  As they flew high over the mining settlement, he explained what had happened, and how Jozin had saved them months and months of extremely hard and dangerous work, not to mention saving all those lives. People still rushed around below them, and carts now headed down the repaired road, some with people riding in them, some obviously carrying goods. It would be a major boost to morale, not to mention to the restoration of normal life in the town. “He will have won many friends today—if he tells them what he did.”

  “Should he? It’s one thing for you and Juimei to know about us—but
will the rest of the population be able to handle it?”

  “Can you suppress your natures entirely just to live with us, Nuveize? Living half a life seems hardly living at all.”

  “It’s all I do these days,” she said, sounding rather bleak.

  He squeezed her hand. “Let’s worry about problems when they arise. I do have one request.” Her blind eyes looked straight at him as she waited. “I...find it inhibiting to know you know everything that passes through my mind. Is there anyway you can stop doing that?”

  “Not really. If it’s any comfort, most of the time it’s just noise unless I’m specifically listening for someone, or someone is particularly looking for me. Here, so close, there’s not much to interfere with it. But I don’t watch your dreams. I won’t intrude on your privacy, and I never share what I learn this way. You can believe me or not, but it’s the truth.”

  “I have no reason to disbelieve you. So long as you never give me one, I shall not do so.”

  “That’s fair. Jozin was right about you. He said you could be trusted.”

  “He did?”

  She smiled. “Oh yes. You make an impression, tezrei. I’m surprised you’re not used to that by now.”

  “I never thought about it. I’m glad he trusts me. I won’t betray that.”

  “I know.”

  An excited squeal from Helinoa drew his attention, and he saw they were now close to the town. He wondered how they could all land in the town without attracting attention, but Jozin solved that by bringing them in one at a time, Wepizi first, then the others, all behind one of the surviving houses. The eyes of the three young ones were wide with wonderment as they stared at the buildings. “Never been in a town before?” Wepizi asked, crouching down in front of them.

  “Not one like this. It’s all broken up,” Giwade said, sounding a little upset.

  Giwade had the power of sensing emotions, Nuveize had said. Wepizi wondered if he could feel the anxiety and distress of the people in the town.

  “Yes, it is now, but we’ll fix it.” Wepizi reached out and took the child’s hand. “Now, how about you come with me and we’ll meet the prince, find you somewhere nice to stay?”

  Helinoa took Nuveize’s hand, and they made their way down past the house, out onto the street. They were in the square and at the headquarters in a couple of minutes. The soldiers on guard were a little startled by their arrival. “The prince is expecting us,” Wepizi told them.

  “Yes, sir. Lep Tovoi said he wanted to know when you returned, sir.”

  “Then go tell him—could you let Neime know as well?” The soldier saluted and sped off to obey. “Come inside, everyone.”

  The prince was talking to Elder Frankel, but as Wepizi led everyone in, he curtly asked the elder if he would mind postponing the discussion to the morrow. The man agreed, and though he clearly was wild with curiosity about the strangers, he only bowed politely, and left.

  “Shut the door, Wepizi,” Juimei said, getting slowly to his feet. His movements indicated he was very tired, and in some pain—a long day, and some of it ill temper, Wepizi guessed. “Welcome, everyone. Jozin, care to introduce me to your friends?”

  “Yes. This is Nuveize.” He led her over.

  Juimei didn’t show the slightest surprise at her blindness, bowing with courtly formality. “A great honour, my lady. You are welcome to Dizeindo.”

  “Thank you, your highness. Allow me to introduce Helinoa, Giwade and Kilinze.”

  “Welcome, all of you. Nuveize, my page has arranged rooms at our residence...er, but he wasn’t aware that....”

  “I’m blind? I can manage stairs if someone’s with me. Don’t worry, your highness. We’re hardly pampered.”

  “No. You won’t be here either, at least not for a while. I’m sorry about your young friend. We could only bury him honourably.”

  Her face tightened in pain. “That’s something at least. I want to speak to the couple who brought him and Laovei in, thank them.”

  “It’ll be arranged, though I think they’ll be leaving in a day or so. Ah, Neime, thank you for joining us.”

  The cold way Juimei addressed his friend told Wepizi that, polite welcomes or not, the prince was far from being in a good mood. Neime smiled, but there was a wariness in his eyes as he looked at Juimei—the prince had done a lot of harm to his friendships this day.

  “Neime, this is Nuveize, and these young people are Helinoa, Giwade and Kilinze. Forgive me, Nuveize, but I have other things I have to do before I return to the residence. Neime can take you to see Laovei and get you settled. I’ll see you again for supper. I hope that’s all right.”

  “Of course, your highness. We’re just grateful you’re allowing us to be here.”

  “As citizens you’re always welcome...however, you might want to exercise discretion until I think more about this situation.” He glanced over at Wepizi before adding, “It’s all moving rather quickly.”

  “Yes, I know. We’ll be careful. We’ve had a lot of practice.”

  “Yes. Neime, would you?”

  The lad stirred himself. “Yes. So, come on, everyone. Let’s go see Laovei and Iome. Wepizi, are you—”

  The prince cut him off. “I need to have words with Wepizi, Neime. Please be about your business.”

  Prince and page exchanged cool looks, then Neime put his hands on the two youngest boys’ shoulders. “Come on, they’re waiting.”

  Wepizi closed the door behind them. “The mine road’s clear and the miners have been freed,” he said conversationally. “Jozin saved many lives today.”

  “He has my thanks.”

  Juimei sat down behind the desk—he didn’t invite Wepizi to sit, and Wepizi knew better than to presume. To his surprise, the prince said nothing, and seemed to be waiting, his expression blank, his tight lips the only clue to his emotions. Wepizi simply didn’t know what to say, or why he was being kept here like a naughty child. It was a tense and uncomfortable wait.

  But not, in the end, a long one. Lep Tovoi came in with two soldiers, and like Wepizi, closed the door. Then locked it—this did not bode well.

  “Thank you, lep. Please continue,” Juimei said, staring at Wepizi without giving him any clues to what was about to happen.

  Tovoi cleared his throat. “Lep Wepizi, I have been ordered to place you under arrest on the charge of desertion and gross dereliction. Will you surrender voluntarily?”

  Wepizi came to attention at once, still shocked even with all the warning Juimei’s threats had given him. “Yes, of course.” Tovoi nodded—he was so obviously unhappy about this, but there was no question of him disobeying a direct order. “What’s to be done with me?” The barracks’ brig was flattened, and the tiny town jail wasn’t intended for long-term residency.

  “Your highness?”

  The prince tilted his chin defiantly. “Wepizi, in acknowledgement of your excellent record and long service to his majesty and council, I am prepared to offer you the choice of either leaving the army under an honourable discharge, or facing the charges just described. If you choose the latter, you will be relieved of your post, and stripped of your rank and privileges until a decision comes from Visiqe as to your final disposition. You will also be kept in custody for that time, at lep Tovoi’s discretion. What do you choose?”

  “I choose to defend myself, your highness, therefore I can’t accept a discharge.”

  He stared back at the prince, who didn’t blink. “As you wish. I grant you the chance to change your mind, up until his majesty makes his decision. Lep Tovoi, you’re now acting tezrei. You may make a submission along with the charges and my report. Prisoner Wepizi, you may also do that, and submit what sealed documents you choose, so long as they are handed to me within five days. Is there anything you wish to say, so that I might include that in my own report?”

  “No, your highness. I did my duty as I believed it to be, and still believe it to be. I regret our interpretations differ on that point.”

 
; “Where there is a difference, the vice-regent’s wishes take precedence. The law is very clear, prisoner. Tezrei, please remove him.”

  “One moment...please. Your highness, what about our new arrivals?”

  Juimei’s eyes were like frozen stones, and his voice held not a trace of friendliness. “No longer your concern, prisoner. If you wanted to retain influence over such things, then you should have followed the law. Get him out of here.”

  Wepizi supposed he should be grateful he hadn’t been manacled before he was marched smartly out of the shop and into the square some little distance from it. But as soon as they were safely out of earshot, Tovoi signalled them all to stop, sent the soldiers off a little distance, then turned to him with a frown.

  “Sir, I’m so sorry about all this. I really had no choice.”

  “I don’t hold it against you, Tovoi. Or any of you. He’s...doing what he thinks he should do.”

  “Can’t you just apologise or something? This is ridiculous! You were only gone for a few hours, and if you say the king and council ordered it...maybe it’s him who should be locked up!”

  “Careful, tezrei—that’s coming close to mutiny if not treason, and we don’t want all the senior officers in disgrace, do we?”

  “But this is wrong!” Tovoi said, clenching a fist in impotent anger. “And we need you in charge, sir! You’re the one with the experience of handling this kind of thing, not me.”

  “And I’ll be there to help you until this is sorted out. Either I’ll be vindicated, or I’ll be relieved permanently. But now...do you plan on asking me for my parole?”

  Tovoi sighed. “Will you give it? There’s no place to lock you up, and by the benevolent god, of all the people I would not want to lock up, it would be you.”

  “You won’t have to. You have my parole and my promise to cooperate. I’m not afraid of his majesty’s justice.”