Home Ground (Darshian Tales #4)

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Home Ground (Darshian Tales #4) Page 53

by Ann Somerville


  Neime looked at Juimei as if to say “I told you”. Juimei ignored his disobedient page. He wished he could ignore the throb in his head too. “Wepizi’s involvement at this time can’t be allowed.”

  “Then that’s too damn bad, isn’t it? You can fix your own damn town.” He flung his serviette down and got up from the table.

  “Joz, mind your manners,” Nuveize said. “And sit down. We haven’t finished the meal, or the discussion. Your highness, does your support depend on our cooperation?”

  “Not in the least. Though it would make justifying your presence and that support easier, that’s not the reason for this. Jozin, you were the one who said you wanted to help. I don’t understand why you’re making Wepizi a condition now.”

  “Because it’s wrong what you’re doing to him!’ the boy said, his eyes flashing with anger. “He wanted to help us and then you punished him. How can we trust you when you do that to him?”

  Juimei closed his eyes, wishing he’d not brought this up now, or ever. “I don’t know. You’ve a right to your opinion, and you can withhold your assistance as you wish. But I’m not going to discuss how I govern this region with you, or justify my decisions. If that’s your final word, so be it.”

  He picked up his glass and sipped from it, wondered how soon he could gracefully leave this disaster for Neime to fix. He would not be blackmailed over Wepizi, not by this child, not by Neime, or anyone.

  There was an uncomfortable silence. Juimei ignored the glares from Jozin, and Nuveize’s cool assessment. He felt sorry for young Giwade—the boy should not be subjected to this unpleasantness—but it was too late to fix that.

  When it seemed no resolution would be found, not tonight at least, he got to his feet. “Sorry to have wasted your time,” he said, the pain in his head making him more curt than was polite. “Good evening.”

  He limped out, and went back to his bedroom. He sat down on one of the armchairs, and rubbed his eyes. He had no idea what he was doing with those children. There was no way of compelling them to do the least thing, not that he wanted to, but if they were going to try and force him to do something in exchange for their cooperation, they’d picked the wrong person to deal with.

  The problem was, he didn’t know how to go forward. He wouldn’t beg for Jozin’s assistance, but if the lad and the others had no purpose in life, they might end up causing mischief, or becoming the focus of complaints if they were seen as nothing but pampered idlers. Already there had been a comment or two from Gimoz and the other servants indicating the household was speculating quite energetically about the newcomers. Nothing Juimei could do or say was likely to do other than make that worse. Speculation was bound to spread. Even if he had mere months left in this post, he couldn’t leave the problem to his successor—by then, it would be too late. The damage would be done.

  Perhaps the answer was to send them back to their mountain home and arrange for some kind of supply route. It would mean returning them to what sounded a solitary and narrow existence, but if they weren’t able to integrate here, then they would hardly be better off. It was a very great pity, because they could do a lot for this town, at this time. Lep...Tezrei Tovoi had been quite enthused about all the things they could ask Jozin to help them with, let alone Helinoa and the others. And Nuveize could help them contact the remote patrols and find out what was going on throughout the region, even if no practical help could be sent just now.

  He sighed. He’d failed. He hadn’t even come close to succeeding. It had been a waste of his time and theirs, and all he’d got out of it was a worsened headache and indigestion. It wasn’t enough that he didn’t feel like eating most of the time—lately what he did manage to persuade himself to eat, became a source of torture. He knew there were many people in the town worse off than he was. He just found it hard to think of them when he ached and hurt in so many different parts of himself.

  He levered himself up, intending to ring for hot water, not feeling up to a full wash. As he did so, the bedroom door opened, and Neime slipped into the room, his expression shuttered. Juimei longed for a return to the time when they’d been easy with each other, but that time was probably gone forever.

  “I suppose they’ve all gone to bed?”

  “They’ve gone upstairs at least. Jui, will you get angry if I talk to you about Wepizi?”

  “Yes. I won’t discuss my decisions.”

  His page twisted his hands, uncharacteristically hesitant. “I wasn’t going to ask you to do that. Jui, please—if I can’t even mention his name....”

  “What do you want to say? I warn you, this is a subject which is becoming almost unbearably provocative. First Jozin, now you...I won’t be bullied.”

  “No. Would you sit? I’m not trying to make you angry, I swear.”

  Grunting with annoyance, Juimei did as he suggested, then glared up at his friend. “Well?”

  Neime took the other seat. “You can see Jozin’s point, can’t you? They come to the town with Wepizi’s assurance of protection, and then suddenly Wepizi’s not dealing with them.”

  “It’s unfortunate, but I told Wepizi before he left what the consequences of his action would be. If you have a problem with that, you should talk to him. I will not change my mind.”

  “Sephiz forbid,” Neime muttered.

  “If you’re just going to insult me, I’d rather you took yourself off to be with your new friends. I don’t want an attendant who loathes me.”

  “I don’t,” Neime said, sounding rather weary. “I just...wish this wasn’t like this.”

  “And you think I do? You think Wepizi bears no blame at all, because of course, it must be the evil, crippled fool of a governor at fault, and not our saintly friend. It couldn’t possibly be that Wepizi acted in a highhanded fashion that could have had terrible consequences for all of us, oh no. It must be me who caused the problem. Is there a point to this conversation? I’m really not in a mood for another round of ‘let’s tell Juimei what an idiot he is’.”

  He started to get up again, but Neime leaned over and put his hand on his arm. “Wait. I’m sorry.” Juimei sat back. “Look...I spoke to Jozin and the others. He’s agreed that if Wepizi is involved in some way, maybe even just consulted, about how he and the rest of them fit into the plans for the restoration, then they’ll cooperate. But they won’t deal with Tovoi on his own. They don’t know him, and they like Wepizi. You can’t blame them for that.”

  “Wepizi is a prisoner on parole. It’s utterly inappropriate for him to have any official role in this at all.”

  “I know...but unofficially? Please, Juimei, bend a little, at least for the sake of the town.”

  Juimei’s mouth thinned in anger. “You say that to me, when Wepizi wasn’t even prepared to wait an hour to discuss his decision to leave with them? Why am I to be so flexible, when he is not?”

  “I’m not talking to Wepizi now. I’m talking to you.”

  “Only because of Wepizi. It’s not as if my company holds any charm for you anymore.”

  “You only seem to open your mouth these days to issue another complaint, so why would it?”

  Struck to his very core by the insult, he barely clung on to his temper. “Well, thank you,” he said in a tight voice, his lips peeling back from his teeth in a painful grimace. “That’s enough now, Neime. Be so kind as to have someone bring me water to bathe with, and perhaps you could send someone along to help me who finds me less offensive. You might also like to find somewhere else to sleep.”

  He got up and limped away over to the window, staring out on the moonlit garden, steadfastly ignoring his page, and trying not to be sick at yet another betrayal, another rejection. For a broken coin, he would gut himself with a letter opener, and spare everyone, including himself, his hated company.

  All was silence. Just once, he thought. Just once he would like Neime to do as he asked and not make him have to order him again. But then he heard his page get up from his chair.

  “Ju
i.”

  He didn’t turn around, but then he jumped slightly as Neime took his arm. Then, to his surprise, the lad rested his forehead on his shoulder. “I’m sorry. That was unkind and unfair.”

  Yes. Yes, it was. But all the same, he patted Neime’s head. “It’s all right. I forgive you. This isn’t easy for you either.” He eased himself away gently, not wanting to cause offence, but not wanting to prolong the contact. “Could you just give me a little time to think about it? If Wepizi had done that, we mightn’t be in this situation in the first place.”

  “Would it really be different?” Neime asked.

  “All I wanted was time to plan. Jozin bounced Wepizi into action before I had the chance to think how any of this affected us. I don’t know why everyone thinks it was unreasonable of me to try and think of more than Jozin and his friends. It’s not like they’re the only people in the region.”

  “No,” Neime said. “I hadn’t thought.... I’m sorry, I—”

  Juimei ruefully shook his head. “Assumed it was just my temper. Ah, well...I suppose you had reason. But I don’t want to make the same mistake twice. The situation with Wepizi is serious. His actions were reckless, and whatever the justification, he disobeyed a direct order. I can’t pretend these things don’t matter just because Jozin throws a tantrum. I will not be ruled by him, do you understand?”

  “I understand,” Neime said quietly, almost humbly. “I’ll tell him you’ll think about it.”

  “Thank you.” Juimei really wanted to lie down. “Perhaps you could do that now, and send someone in with the hot water.”

  “I can bring it...or did you mean that about me sleeping elsewhere?”

  He almost did, but he couldn’t do it to Neime now, when he was so conciliatory. “No. But I’d like a few minutes alone.”

  “Are you sure you don’t want the massage? You know it helps.”

  Yes, it did. But it would make other things worse. “I just need to rest. Please...just go.”

  His page gave him a worried look, squeezed his arm, and then, thankfully, obeyed, leaving Juimei to sink back onto the chair and rub futilely at his temples. Three more months, with luck. Three more months and he could lay down this task with honour. And then maybe Wepizi’s benevolent god might even allow him to rest, at last.

  Home Ground: 23

  By the time Wepizi and Tovoi arrived in the square, there was already quite a crowd. Even though it was only supposed to be the elders, the mayor and a few other senior persons, somehow word had got around, and there were nearly a hundred people waiting for the arrival of Juimei and the Blessed. Wepizi wasn’t at all sure about this, but he was there completely voluntarily—the point had been made several times that his attendance was his choice alone, and it would not affect the outcome of the case against him. An unnecessary emphasis had been placed on that point, though he’d had no hesitation in agreeing. What his actual role was to be, he had no idea—he’d not been involved in those discussions. His status was punctiliously observed, almost to the point of absurdity. The prince was being more spiteful than Wepizi would have thought him capable of. It tended to diminish his faith in human goodness, just a little.

  He wondered at so many people having the leisure to stand around and gawp. The rebuilding was going pretty well, but it wasn’t even two weeks since the earthquake, and there was still so much to be done. Certainly there were plenty of people who had better things to do, and the square, the market, were all busy with carts and barrows and workers off to one of the many sites of reconstruction. Perhaps these few wanted a break, or perhaps their curiosity simply overrode all other considerations. He didn’t know. He just hoped this wouldn’t turn out to be a disaster for the Blessed—the potential for it all going wrong was enormous.

  There was a ripple of excitement as two vehicles came into the square—the little doig-trap, and a cart behind, Jozin’s red hair an easily spotted beacon. Neime drove the trap, of course, with Juimei stiff and blank-faced beside him. They pulled up to the podium, and Neime helped the prince out, taking his arm to lead him up the stone stairs. The others filed up onto the platform as the prince and Neime took their seats.

  “Us too,” Tovoi said, heading for the dais.

  Wepizi followed, and as he mounted the stairs, he got some very wide grins from Jozin and Kilinze. Iome and Helinoa were also happy to see him. Nuveize nodded, looking satisfied.

  “Where’s Giwade?” he asked.

  “With Laovei,” Jozin said. “Come and sit down.”

  “Uh...in a minute, Jozin,” Wepizi said. It was impolite to sit before invited to do so by the prince, and the prince hadn’t seemed to even notice he was there. Except he had to know, because he was so determinedly looking in every other direction.

  “Don’t mind him, I made him let you come.”

  That made the prince’s head swivel around, and then he looked up at Wepizi, expression still carefully blank. He said nothing, but Wepizi knew perfectly well what the problem was.

  “No, Jozin. He agreed to let me be here.” He kept his voice low and his expression pleasant, because they were in full view of the waiting crowd.

  “I told him I wouldn’t do this unless you were here, so he had to let you.”

  “Wepizi?”

  Wepizi turned back to the prince. “Yes, your highness?”

  “I regret that your presence is not required after all. Would you be so kind as to return to the barracks?”

  Wepizi bowed, keeping his face neutral. “Yes, your highness.”

  Juimei too, did not reveal his emotions. Wepizi respected that, and why he was doing this. He turned and headed towards the steps.

  “Hey! Wepizi, you can’t go!” Jozin was on his feet, and glaring at the two of them.

  “I’m sorry, Jozin,” Wepizi said, carefully keeping his voice calm. “I’m here under a misapprehension, it seems.”

  “Yes, you are,” Juimei said. “I thought it would make our friends more comfortable to have you here, Wepizi. At no time was it intended to be a condition of cooperation, and nor will I allow it to be one. This demonstration is cancelled. Neime?”

  Neime stood, clearly deeply upset, but taking Juimei’s arm as requested.

  “Wait!” Jozin stared at the prince, utterly bewildered. “I said he had to be here!” he said, sweeping a hand in Wepizi’s direction.

  “Yes. And I told you that I wouldn’t be blackmailed,” the prince pointed out. “After consideration of the matter, I thought you might find Wepizi’s presence of some benefit, so he was invited to come along. But that’s all, Jozin. Wepizi, please, go back to the barracks.”

  Wepizi tried to obey, but found himself frozen in place. “My friend,” he said through gritted teeth, turning his eyes to Jozin. “Do this, and you will never see or speak to me again. Let me go.”

  He was freed quite suddenly, nearly stumbling. Pulling himself upright, he found Jozin in his face. “You can’t! I want you here!”

  “I have my orders, Jozin. If you want his highness to change them, I suggest you mend your manners, and quickly, before this becomes a scene.”

  Jozin narrowed his eyes angrily. “You’re on his side.”

  “We’re all on the same side, my friend. You, me, his highness, Neime—all for the good of this town, this region and the country. If you’re not, then you must be my enemy for I act on the orders of the king and council, for Andon.” And if his highness wants to argue over that, let him.

  “I’m not your enemy,” Jozin said in a confused, hurt voice.

  “Then you must be a friend,” Wepizi said, smiling, glancing quickly at the prince and getting the smallest nod. “Come, let’s sit and you can show people what you can do.”

  The prince could have pushed it. Wepizi could too. Jozin certainly might have, but it was best with this boy—most people, in fact—to give him time to think and plan his response. If he pushed it later, he would find Wepizi and the prince quite united in their response on this. For now, it was better to
keep things calm and pleasant.

  Wepizi took his seat next to Nuveize, with Tovoi on his other side. “Tricky,” Tovoi muttered.

  “Very,” Wepizi agreed.

  Now peace had been restored, Juimei rose. He seemed about to speak, but then, to Wepizi’s startled surprise, he heard his words not in his ears, but in his mind. “Welcome, everyone.”

  The entire crowd jerked in shock, and an excited babble broke out. Juimei raised his hands in a soothing gesture. “Everyone, please. Calm down, and I’ll explain. There is no danger.”

  The noise dropped off. Juimei was now the focus of rapt and undivided attention.

  “Thank you. I know this is a surprise, and in some ways, a great risk, not for us, but for these people here. My friends, these are some of the Blessed. I know you won’t have ever encountered them before, so this will be something of an experience for all of you. Nuveize? Please, introduce yourself.”

  She got to her feet unaided. “Thank you, your highness. I am Nuveize, and I’m Blessed with the power of mind speech. That’s how his highness could speak to you as he did.” She bowed a little, then gestured to the girl beside her. “This is Helinoa. She can move objects with her mind. Hel? Would you care to show us a little?”

  Wepizi nearly jumped out of his skin as he began to rise, chair and all. The crowd gasped as one, and again, excited comment broke out as he floated above them, still seated in his chair, and feeling distinctly foolish. He gave Helinoa a wry look—she just grinned up at him, then brought him gently back down again. He tried to look insouciant as Tovoi blinked. “Sephiz’s beard!”

  “I’m told you get used to it,” he said, stroking his moustache and hiding his smile. It had been a good prank, he had to admit it.

  “Thank you, Helinoa. And thank you, Wepizi. I hope we won’t have to use you as an example too much.” He essayed an ironic bow in Nuveize’s direction. “Jozin has the same powers as Helinoa, though being older, he has rather more control and ability. Kilinze is Blessed by fire. Kilinze?”

 

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