Home Ground (Darshian Tales #4)

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Home Ground (Darshian Tales #4) Page 57

by Ann Somerville


  She took the hint, and then gave him a wry look.

  “Juimei, I don’t hate you, or dislike you. My concern was for you, though it’s also for my young one. It’s not either or.”

  “Well, I thank you anyway. Was that all you wanted?”

  “Fortunately, I’m not in search of pleasant or polite company. You can’t go on like this.”

  “What choice do I have? My life is as it is. Other people keep ripping my choices from my hands.”

  “You keep knocking their hands away. Would it be so wrong to allow Neime or Wepizi to touch you? It’s no sin to want physical comfort and affection.”

  He glared at her, even though she couldn’t see his expression. “It’s wrong to want what is a violation of trust. It’s wrong to...encourage those feelings.”

  “Perhaps you should talk to Wepizi about them.”

  He laughed. “Are you serious? The man not only despises me personally, he’s still grieving for his wife. Would you welcome advances from me? Would you not be repelled and disgusted?”

  She regarded him calmly, her blind gaze, as always, rather unnerving. “No, though I don’t want them. Wepizi’s a good man, a kind one.”

  “I don’t want his kindness. Have him yourself if he’s such a treasure. You get on so well with him. You’re more his type than I am.”

  “Possibly, though he has the same problem as you, in that he can’t forget my talent. Stop changing the subject. You’re killing yourself, and even though you don’t like me, I can’t stand by and watch someone throw their life away so pointlessly. If you hate your existence so much, end it cleanly. Stop torturing yourself, Neime, and everyone else.”

  “I might just do that,” he said coldly. “If this conversation is over, madam, I have work to do, and since you’ve been kind enough to stop the pain for a while, I should take advantage of it.”

  She shook her head. “Honestly, if you were Kilinze, I’d put you over my damn knee. You want the pain in your head to stop for good? You need to stop hating yourself. The pain is the physical manifestation of your self-loathing. You’re literally punishing yourself for not being the person you want to be. So either accept that you can’t be who you want, change, or get used to permanent agony. But if you choose the last—do it somewhere Giwade can’t feel you, because the child is suffering.”

  “Then I’ll make arrangements for accommodation for him and for you away from this residence. Will that be sufficient?”

  “Definitely a spanking,” she muttered. “Grow up. You’re behaving like a child working himself into a tantrum and making himself sick. People would love you and help you, if you stopped.”

  “This conversation is over, Nuveize. I won’t be lectured.”

  “No, Sephiz forbid. Don’t you need to speak to Tovoi?”

  “Thank you, I hadn’t forgotten. You’re incredibly impertinent.”

  “You’re incredibly annoying. We make a good team.” “Juimei, please—I say all this from concern, not anger. You’ve been very kind to my family, and I’m grateful. None of us want you to leave, or get sick.”

  “Not even Giwade?”

  “He worries about you. He wants you to be happy. So do I.”

  “Sadly, I’ve lost the knack. I thank you for the concern. I just...don’t have an answer.”

  She got to her feet, then came around the desk behind him. Once again she laid her hand on his neck.

  “Physical comfort and happiness are basic needs. If you care at all for Neime, you have to look after yourself. Allow yourself to be touched, your highness. You’ll die without it.”

  He grunted, and she let him go.

  “I’m going to go for a walk with Giwade,” she said. “I can pass your messages on. The pain block will last for a while. Longer if you could possibly unclench. I warn you—you’re harming yourself beyond repair.”

  “Thank you, healer Nuveize.”

  “You’re welcome, your arseness.”

  He blinked up at her. “I thought you were so strict about manners.”

  “Only when they’re appreciated. Good day.”

  Bloody interfering woman, he thought as she left the room, and didn’t care that she could hear the insult too.

  ‘Your arseness’? Kilinze would be calling him that, he could just see it. As if his life wasn’t full enough of humiliation.

  ~~~~~~~~

  Wepizi arrived back at the barracks just in time for the mid-afternoon brew up in the courtyard, and found news of his reinstatement had got around. Officers, solders, even a few of their civilians came up to clap him on the shoulder and offer congratulations. A mug of drizu was pressed into his hand, and he was invited to come and hunker down around the fire with Tovoi, grinning like a fool.

  “Never thought I’d be this happy to lose a job, sir.”

  “Under the circumstances, I can’t offer you any sympathy, lep,” Wepizi said with an answering grin. “I guess you’re back to site managing.”

  “Gladly. What changed his mind?”

  He wasn’t prepared to discuss this. “I’m not at liberty to say. But I’m happy with the solution, and I have no argument with his original course of action.”

  Tovoi looked a little sceptical, but held his tongue. “Well, whatever the reason, it’s good news.”

  “Wepizi!”

  He twisted, and saw Jozin loping toward him, a huge smile on his face.

  “That’s ‘tezrei’ to you, groi,” Tovoi chided.

  The smile didn’t dim at all. “Oh, sorry—but is it true? You got your job back?”

  “Yes, it is. I don’t suppose it’ll get me any more respect out of you.” Jozin just grinned. “How’s the bridge?”

  “Crooked. But we’re getting there. Kilinze’s coming up tomorrow so we can melt some metal joints.”

  “Kilinze can melt metal?” Wepizi felt Tovoi start in surprise next to him.

  “Sure he can,” Jozin said carelessly. “He just makes the flame really hot and tight.”

  “Sephiz’s beard,” Tovoi muttered. “Just when I think I’ve seen it all.”

  “I think our young friends still have a surprise or two up their sleeves,” Wepizi said.

  “Oh, there’s Nuveize and Giwade!” Jozin said, pointing behind Wepizi. “What are they doing here?”

  Wepizi had no idea, but he rose and bowed politely to the two newcomers walking slowly towards them.

  “Welcome, my friends. Nuveize, I was going to call on you this afternoon, but....”

  She waved her hand. “No, I understand. Joz, Giwade wants to have a look around. Lep, is that all right with you?”

  “Certainly. Jozin, I wanted to ask you about the infirmary—why don’t you both come with me?”

  Blessing his subordinate’s tact, Wepizi waited until they were clear, then turned back to Nuveize. “It was me you wanted to see?”

  “Yes. Have you got time for a walk?”

  “Of course.” He took her arm, told one of the soldiers near the fire he’d be back later, and suggested that the break was over anyway.

  He now knew the best way to help her ‘see’ her way, and so kept his eyes straight ahead, resisting the temptation to look about, which she found disorienting. She suggested they head outside the walls, past the new barracks site, and up the road towards the camp. “You didn’t have to come all this way to talk to me,” he said as they passed the new sentry posts on the rebuilt gates. His soldiers grinned as they saluted—word had got around incredibly fast.

  “No, I know, but people still like to see expressions. Besides, my talent upsets you, I know.”

  “I find it unnerving, certainly. Which isn’t your fault at all. In Darshian, it’s easier for your kind, because there are more of you.”

  “It’s never really easier for our kind. But it’s easier for your kind.”

  He nodded, acknowledging the distinction. They continued to walk along the road, now constantly in use with carts and people travelling between the civilian camp, the new bar
racks and the town limits. They had been fortunate that so much of the material they needed for the reconstruction had been already assembled before the earthquake hit. The rest had been a gift from their new friends—Kilinze had gone with Jozin and Helinoa to collect timber and in a single day, they had brought back enough felled trees to build a dozen houses and much of the city. The soldiers still talked about that great lumber gathering exercise in tones of awe and Kilinze had been insufferable for some time afterwards. Well, even more insufferable. Wepizi considered it his duty to bring him down to a manageable arrogance wherever possible, but it was an uphill task.

  They decided to walk down to the creek, where people from the camp washed and did their laundry near to where the creek spilled into the river. Being a hot, dry day, and children being children, it wasn’t just chores being carried out—the creek was full of laughing youngsters, their mothers watching from the banks as they pounded clothes, or scrubbed pots. It did Wepizi good to see the children so carefree—anything, he thought, to wipe away the tears of grief and misery that had fallen so freely.

  He guided Nuveize to sit on a patch of grass, a little way off from the crowds and the splashes. “I like this,” she said. “I like the heat, the river. The mountains could be so cold and harsh to me. I was raised on the plains.”

  “Are your family still alive?”

  “Yes. I listen to them from time to time. My father misses me. It’s best that I left, though.”

  Wepizi reached for her hand and squeezed it. “Can you never go back?”

  She turned her blind eyes to him. “Maybe. That’s what this might be the start of. I hope so. Some of us are better in isolation. Some of us are not, like my young ones. Except Giwade. He loves people but he finds the town hard to deal with.” Wepizi looked at her quizzically. “He finds Juimei hard to deal with.”

  “Ah. Can I deduce this is the actual reason you wanted to talk to me, my dear?”

  “I have no secrets from you, do I?” she said with an ironic smile. “Yes, it is. You saw the state his highness had got himself into.”

  “Yes, I did, and you know I was shocked. Utterly horrified, to be blunt. I don’t know how he carries on.”

  “He’s only hanging on by the tips of his fingers. It’s appalling for Giwade, but Juimei’s answer to that is to suggest he finds somewhere else for us to live.”

  “Ah.” Wepizi realised now this was typical of Juimei’s way of handling things. “It’s an answer, of sorts. But it doesn’t help the prince, does it?” She shook her head. “I feel for his pain, his situation, I honestly do. I don’t know what I can do about it though. You know what he’s like—he’s more defensive than a hiqwiq in rut. You try and get close and he pushes you off a cliff.”

  “Yes, he does. He even does it to Neime. I can’t really blame him though. You only have to look at him to realise he’s at his limit. Past his limit. He has no reserves at all now. I’m not even sure it’s not too late to help him. I’m afraid of what it’ll mean if we do lose him, because we’ll lose Neime too. I had to gather all my courage in my hands to approach you, to trust the normals again. I don’t know if I can face having to work with someone I don’t know.”

  He patted her hand reassuringly, though his heart clenched at her words. She knew Juimei much better than him. If she said things were this bad, then they were—she didn’t exaggerate at all. It was very hard to be calm about the possibility that Juimei might be lost to them—he had only begun to appreciate the quality of the man, though it didn’t help that the prince had as many facets as an Udizoje gem, and seemed adept at presenting the worst possible aspect of himself to the world.

  “What can we do?” he murmured. “He doesn’t want my help. He seems to actively hate my assistance.”

  Nuveize pursed her lips. “The thing is...I know a way...but I can’t tell you.”

  “Because you read it in his mind?”

  She laughed. “Hardly. He hasn’t the slightest idea of what would help himself.”

  He cocked his head. “Then why can’t you tell me?”

  “Because I’ve worked it out from what he does have in his mind.”

  “Ah. Impasse,” he said, as he stroked his moustache thoughtfully. “Can you hint?”

  “Maybe,” she said, looking a little shifty. “You have all the clues, you’re just not looking at them right. But I can’t tell you why you’re not.”

  Wepizi sighed. “If you can’t do that, can you at least suggest...in a general way...how I can help the man? If he won’t even let Neime come near him....”

  “That’s another clue, if you would only see it.” But she refused to elaborate. “All I can say is...what works with Jozin, works with most people. Juimei’s damaged, but he’s not abnormal. He leads a sterile, narrow life with no distractions and no pleasure. He learned to walk and talk again after his accident, but he paid no attention to his emotional life, because he assumed that part of him was over forever. I’ve learned all this from observation and talking to Neime and you, please note. And if I can see it, so can you.”

  “Well, yes, I can. But, surely there are more appropriate people to ask. The prince finds me irritating.”

  “Does he?” she asked with a raised eyebrow. “I heard your conversation with him today. The clues were there too, if you only looked for them. But I suggest you hurry. We don’t have much time if we want to save him.”

  She was probably right. “He would be a true loss,” Wepizi murmured.

  “Yes. He’s a snotty bastard, but he’s honest as they come, and his word is his bond. If you knew human beings as I did, you’d know how rare that is, even among well-intentioned people.” She ‘looked’ right at him. “His honour is his strength and his flaw. Just as your capacity for love is yours, and Neime’s kind heart is his. Your mutual strengths are becoming his fatal weakness.”

  Wepizi straightened. “Wait—are you saying not only can I help him through this, I’m somehow the cause?” She didn’t blink, wouldn’t give anything away. But that in itself was an answer. “I don’t understand,” he said. “Is it because of this disagreement...? No,” he corrected slowly, remembering. “It started before.”

  She nodded. “The clues are there,” she repeated. “We have to do something. I blocked the pain he was in today because he upset Giwade. But it’s not an answer. Neither is that disgusting tea he’s drinking.”

  “No, it’s not.” The use of nerf leaf had shocked Wepizi considerably. That Juimei had had to resort to narcotics indicated more than anything else just how bad his condition was, but it didn’t help his physical condition at all. “Let me think on it. He’s wary and he’s hurt. It makes for a dangerous beast.”

  “True. But you tamed that one under your nose, you can tame one broken little princeling.”

  He chuckled. His moustache was so much abused.

  “Ah...did you call Jozin?” he asked.

  He’d spotted the lad and Giwade floating towards them, landing discreetly behind a tree some distance away. Strange how one could get used to the sight of people flying through the air. It had been a very strange few months, for sure.

  “Yes, I did. Giwade needs to get away from Juimei, at least for a while. Is there anywhere he could stay at the barracks?”

  “I’ll speak to Heininke. Laovei is doing well, I hear.”

  “Yes, walking a little with the false foot and crutches,” she said, nodding. “Neime’s been a great help.”

  “And...more?”

  She smiled. “Perhaps. He’s been wonderful with her. But she was very close to Timinke. She needs time to heal. I’ve spoken to him about it—he understands.”

  “Well, they’re young, they have time.”

  But only if Neime’s best friend didn’t kill himself one way or another.

  He waved at Jozin and Giwade, now walking across the meadow towards them. “Are you going back to the residence?” he asked her.

  “Yes. Neime’s on his way there too. He’s breaking his hear
t over what Juimei’s going to say. He meant no harm, you know that.”

  “Yes, I do.” Wepizi doubted Neime had ever meant harm to another creature in his entire life. Well, except possibly this count that had caused the prince so much pain. “But at the same time, he did something very seriously wrong, and it can’t just be dismissed. I’m torn between being grateful for it allowing Juimei to make a fresh decision, and sorrow that he’s given our prince another reason to fear betrayal.”

  She nodded. “Yes. It’s why I won’t breach his confidence, however great the temptation. But I wish I could. Don’t fail me, Wepizi.” She sat up as she ‘saw’ her friends approach through Wepizi’s eyes. “Hello, Joz. Come and sit, darling,” she said to Giwade. “Would you like a swim? The water will be warmer than up in the mountains.”

  Giwade looked at the splashing children with longing in his eyes, but shook his head. “Maybe another time.”

  He and Jozin sat, Jozin sprawling on the grass with the loose-limbed ease of the worthily fatigued. He looked content and at peace, so very different from the angry, tense young man who had burst upon them just a few short months before. The change in the lad was truly remarkable. Wepizi thought about what Nuveize had said—about what worked with Jozin, working with Juimei too. He really did need to think about it.

  But for now, he concentrated on Giwade. “Nuveize says you’re finding it hard, up at the residence.” Giwade ducked his head guiltily. “It’s all right, son. None of it’s your fault.”

  “I can’t help it. I can’t ignore him, and it feels....” He rubbed his chest. “He hurts, Wepizi. And then Neime hurts. I don’t understand why he can’t be happy.”

  “Perhaps he needs a little help. Don’t worry about it, Giw. How would you like to stay in the barracks for a few days? Think you could manage being around all those people and soldiers?”

  He smiled shyly, ducking his head again. “Yes, I think so. For a few days, anyway.”

  “Then I’ll arrange it. Jozin—maybe even tonight? Could you fetch back his things?”

 

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