Good humour was restored by the end of the meal, which Romi deliberately allowed to run longer than normal to let the team have a break and question Karik. It was a far more cheerful group who mounted the carts taking them to the academy for the afternoon, and Karik was engaged in a deep conversation with Sibu and Kepi as they drove along. Romi was in the other cart and couldn’t hear what they were saying, but it was making Karik laugh—which made Romi feel inexplicably jealous that they could make Karik smile, but he couldn’t even get the man to call him by his own name. He needed to stop giving a damn about what the little bastard was doing, he thought, turning his eyes back to the road.
None of them, bar Karik, had been inside the Darshek academy before, and only two of them—well three, if one counted Romi’s brief exposure—had any familiarity with its Urshek equivalent. Romi smiled to see the reaction of the team to the library, which was even larger and more elegant than the one in Urshek, and to see them itching to get their hands on the maps, always something soldiers loved to see. Karik patiently answered their questions and showed them around, then took them to the plant reference collections and introduced them to the researchers there. They were greeted enthusiastically, several of the people working there expressing gratitude for what they were doing and envy at the chance they were to have.
The entire process of dealing with collected specimens was explained with care and humour, not just by Karik but two female researchers who seemed to be his friends as well as colleagues. It was fascinating to see the man in what might consider his natural habitat, away from the odious Soza and without any arrogance or pretence. Romi wondered again why he had decided to take up with someone so lacking in social skills as Soza when it was clear he was so well liked.
Though it would not be part of their work in the field, the researchers insisted they have a go at the specimen processing, so they were set into teams of two, carefully stripping plants to their component parts, separating seeds, flowers, leaves, bark and even galls, and then being shown how they would be preserved by drying or pressing. Karik paired up with Romi without a comment, but after getting him started, left him to check on how the others were doing.
The forceps were fiddly in Romi’s large hands, and he did more damage to the specimens (thankfully unimportant common plants) than good. He started a little as a slim hand was laid over his own, preventing more mess. “Gently, captain. It’s not like changing a wheel on a wagon.”
“Oh and you would know, I suppose,” Romi retorted.
Karik gave him a pitying look. “Yes, I would, actually—my father’s a trader and the only wainwright we have in the village. I’ve changed more wheels than you’ve dissected specimens, I guarantee. Do you want to do this right or shall I help someone less obdurate?”
Chastened, and annoyed at his own hasty words, Romi went to hand Karik the forceps so he could show him, but Karik made him hold them, then curled his fingers carefully around Romi’s hand. “Lightly, captain. The metal is springy, so if you apply more than necessary force, all you do is compress the material harder and damage it, without improving your grip. Here.” He made Romi open the forceps, then placed a few miniscule seeds on his open palm. “Imagine this is a baby’s face and you want to remove a dangerous insect. If you squeeze too hard, you will make the insect sting the child, and if you push, you will hurt it. Just take it slowly—you can do it.” Romi wondered why Karik was taking this trouble since they wouldn’t need to do this in the field, but he hated to fail at things, so he concentrated. “Careful, captain. I’m a newborn with extremely delicate skin and that insect is very nervous.”
It took forever, and Karik kept telling him to slow down, using his voice as a guide until he was almost whispering, which made Romi respond as if it really was a baby’s face he was lifting seeds from. At last he had one of the fragile objects delicately placed between the tips of the forceps, and placed it carefully on the tray. “Gods. That was worse than an hour’s sword work,” he said with feeling.
Karik grinned. “You big men all have the same problem—you’re used to solving things with brute force. My Pa, my uncle, all just like that.” He waggled his slender fingers. “Sometimes being small has its advantages.”
“You’re not that small.” The man was only four inches or so shorter than Romi—he was, in fact, slightly above average height—but gave the impression of being more delicate than he was. He had the build of a youth, slender and fine-boned, though if he really had helped his Pa change wagon wheels, then he couldn’t be as dainty as he appeared. Without the beard, one would think he was still in his minority.
“Perhaps not, but I can’t rely on my brawn to work my way. I think that’s enough—the leaf pressing is easier, but you still need to use the tips of your fingers. I’m sure you caress your lovers tenderly—use that knowledge.”
Stung, Romi snapped without thinking, “That’s not something you’re likely to find out at close hand, is it?”
Karik stiffened and moved away, colour pinking his cheeks. “My apologies,” he said in a low voice. “Forgive me for being so personal.” He made a slight bow and then retreated to where Taz was struggling with a stem.
Romi was momentarily so angry he forgot that Karik could not know about Daiso, and that the remark had not been intended as any kind of insult. He clenched his fist and forced himself to calm down—even after nearly three weeks, the pain of Daiso’s rejection could hit him unexpectedly and with as much force as the first time he’d read that cowardly note.
When he had got himself back under control, he looked over to see how the rest of the team were getting on. Karik was apparently engrossed in helping Taz and very carefully not looking at him. Romi felt like a bastard—it had been an innocent remark, and all he’d done was reinforce Karik’s dislike of him. Whatever Romi’s personal opinions about Karik, he was expected to behave much more fairly than that—he expected it of himself.
But there was no chance to apologise. After the men finished their practical work, Karik took them back to the library to show them the beautifully illustrated scientific drawings done from the fresh plants, and the way they were labelled—and how with improved knowledge and better specimens, the accuracy of the art improved. Finally, they were taken out to the large garden at the rear of the building and shown the plants from all over Periter which had been cultivated from collected seeds. As tea and pastries were served to them under a tree, Karik and a Prijian gentlemen answered questions and told them of the recent discoveries of drugs taken from foreign plants. Though the medics were passing familiar with the process, they were as fascinated by the information as any of the others. By the time Karik and Master Pitas were done, they were all very clear on the importance of the work they were embarking on.
At last, Karik told them they were done for the day. They were getting to their feet when Romi noticed Master Kei coming towards them down the paths.
“Ah,” Kei said, smiling broadly, “I was hoping to catch you all before you left. How was it, everyone? Did you enjoy being botanists for a day?”
Romi answered on behalf of his men. “It was fascinating. Thank you for allowing us to see behind the scenes this way.”
Kei shook his head. “Oh, no thanks are due to me—it was entirely young Karik’s idea. He set it up as soon as he got back.”
“Then thank you,” Romi said, turning to Karik.
“You’re welcome, captain,” Karik said neutrally, not really meeting his eyes. Kei frowned a little. “I find a task is always more enjoyable when you understand why you’re doing it.”
“Yes, I agree.”
Kei was still frowning, but then he smiled at them. “Well, don’t let me keep you. It’s an early start tomorrow. I think you’ll enjoy the experimental farm, and the owner always does a splendid lunch when we take students out there. You may as well enjoy yourselves now. No honey cakes in the outback of Andon.”
“Then you’d better never go, uncle Kei,” Karik said, making an obvio
us effort to appear cheerful. “Thank you, gentlemen, ladies—thank you, Master Pitas.”
The master bowed and took his leave, then Romi told the team to make their way to the front of the academy while he went to the stables and ordered up the carts. “Karik,” Kei said, “I’ll see you in my office. I just have a couple of things to do before we go home.”
“Of course.”
Kei gave his nephew an unreadable look, frowned at Romi, then walked off. A fine figure of a man, Romi thought absently, admiring Kei’s excellent bearing. Then he realised Karik was hanging back, as if he didn’t want to be caught walking with Romi. He turned to him. “I’m sorry, Karik. I shouldn’t have reacted in that way.”
Karik still wouldn’t meet his eyes. “No, it was my fault, captain. It’s the kind of remark one can make to a friend, but it was unprofessional of me. There won’t be a repeat of it.”
Romi sighed. “Are you really going to call me ‘captain’ all year? Don’t you think that’s a little ridiculous?” He deliberately kept his tone mild and his expression friendly.
Now he got the full force of Karik’s haughty glare. “Is it more ridiculous than your snap assessments and strange likes and dislikes, captain? I confess I’m having trouble working out what does or does not set you off.”
Romi had never received such a cold and unfriendly look in all his life, at least not from someone his own age and so apparently harmless. He reminded himself that he couldn’t kill this man, and he had to work with him for quite some time. “Look, can we put that behind us? I can see you’re highly competent. I hope you’ll find me the same. The expedition is going to be on too intimate a basis for us to be hostile.”
Karik narrowed his eyes, and his nostrils flared. “It’s not I who started this, captain. I don’t need your damn approval—I know I’m competent. On any other matter, I don’t want your opinion, and that includes making personal comments about my friends.”
“Am I supposed not to try and mend a problem caused by your friend’s lack of teaching skills just because of your relationship? Why does Soza merit more consideration than you, or Pali, or Matu? My job is to make sure we’re all trained and ready. Soza wasn’t helping.”
“I know that. You were right to take the steps you did, but it was your attitude I disliked.”
Romi sighed again. “Look, Karik—there’s no kind way to say someone’s a rotten teacher. At least, if there is, I don’t know it. Your uncle’s the diplomat, not me.”
Karik’s severe expression cracked quite suddenly. “Do you mean Arman? A diplomat? I don’t think so.”
Romi spread his hands. “Then why castigate me for what he couldn’t do? I admit I don’t like Soza. I don’t like what he did to Netu, and he seems to delight in trying to make everyone else seem stupid. But he’ll be given the same fair treatment as the rest of you, and I’ll help him do his job as much as I can. It’s not a hanging offence to dislike someone.”
For some reason Karik seemed startled, and then gave a slightly rueful smile. “No, it’s not. Very well, Romi. We’ll pretend we met today and put it all behind us, but you remember this—no one gets anywhere with me by running down my friends. If you have a problem that needs my help, you can guarantee to have it, but stay off the personal or we’ll be at odds.”
“That’s fair.” He cleared his throat. “I better go fetch the carts.”
“My uncle’s waiting for me. You did well today, you know. For a first attempt, it was very good.”
“Thank you. But I think I won’t change careers just yet.”
“No, I think being a soldier suits you better. Good day.”
Well, that wasn’t very friendly, Romi thought in exasperation. He just didn’t know what to make of the man at all. The only thing to do was as Karik had requested—keep off anything remotely personal, and wasn’t that going to be fun trying to sustain over a year?
~~~~~~~~
Kei sat back in his chair as Karik came into his office. “All right, who poked the other one?”
Karik winced and sat down. “Me. My fault entirely—I made a stupid comment and he reacted badly. I didn’t think—but you’re right, he must have had a misfortune in love.” He sighed. “I know why I upset him then. I just don’t know why he was hostile before.”
“Can’t ask him?”
“I don’t dare. If he says something unforgivable, then how will we work together?”
Kei wagged a finger at him. “Come on, Karik, nothing’s that unforgivable. Maybe he’ll tell you when he’s got to know you better. He was genuinely impressed by your practical session.”
“Unfortunately he wasn’t so impressed with Soza this morning, and wasn’t backward in saying so. I feel like the ball in a pooki match.”
Kei laughed. “Poor Karik. You know, Soza can defend himself. Tell Romi to take it up with him.”
“I can’t, Kei. Romi would just be horrible and blunt and Soza would be so offended and then I would be stuck peacemaking. Um, did you...?”
Kei shook his head. “I tried. Maybe I was being too subtle. But I’ll try again, and so will you. With the lieutenant, I mean. It’ll be worth it. Don’t give up so easily.”
“I won’t. But can we stop talking about him? I’m fed up.”
Kei got to his feet and closed the book in front of him. “Come along then. We mustn’t be late for dinner. You realise Reis will be a little overexcited with all of us there.”
Karik grinned. “I can handle it. I’ve missed him. I missed everyone.”
“It’ll certainly make a difference for us to be talking to you instead of about you,” Kei said with a grin. “Let’s find Arman and we can go.”
Captain Romi and his eccentricities occupied Karik’s thoughts only until they reached the House of the Gifted, and then he was simply too busy returning the enthusiastic greetings of his friends. “Karik! You still have the beard!” Reis, for once, allowed them to get to the front door under their own power, but then swept down the steps and took Karik into a suffocating hug.
“Just practical, Reis—isn’t that right, uncle Arman?”
“Indeed, nephew. But people always complain—they don’t know what it’s like to shave every day,” he said, winking at Kei, who stuck his tongue out.
“If Karik had a lover, you can bet he would shave for their sake,” Kei said. “Beards are nasty, nasty things against the skin.”
“Then when I have a lover, you’ll know because I’ll take it off,” Karik retorted.
Reis grinned. “Have you got someone in mind, Karik? Everyone should have a lover. Everyone should have two lovers!”
“Are you corrupting my son again, Reis?” Pa came out onto the porch, his arm around Ma. “I swear, I’m going to have to forbid him to come to Darshek if that happens every time he visits you.”
Reis pouted. “I was just saying lovers are wonderful.”
“The right lovers are wonderful,” Ma said, nudging Pa in the ribs.
“Will everyone stop talking about me and my completely non-existent lovers, please?” Karik said in exasperation. “And Pa, I’m too old for you to forbid me to do anything.”
“He’s got you on that, Reji,” Kei said cheerfully.
“They grow up so quickly,” Pa said in a mournful tone, though his eyes twinkled with mischief.
Karik frowned at them all. “Are we ever going to be allowed to go into the house? I thought I was here for supper, not advice on my love life.”
“Sorry, Karik,” Reis said, hugging him again and keeping his arm around his shoulders as he ushered him inside. “We’re in the indoor garden—Jes loves the birds.”
“A budding naturalist, just like her Pa,” Kei said. Karik rolled his eyes. The child was eighteen months old—to her, birds were just pretty things that moved.
As they walked through the house, Karik’s eyes were drawn to the large painting in pride of place in the main hall—the last portrait of Wyma, finished after his death, peacefully in his sleep, two years before
. All the Gifted still mourned for Wyma in their own quiet, private way.
Karik missed the old man, and he knew Reis had never really got over losing the only father he’d ever known. As Wyma’s personal choice to succeed him, Neka had been asked to take on the role of their head, though she had protested she was much too young. From what Karik had seen, it had been a good decision.
Reis saw where his eyes had drifted, and squeezed his shoulder. “It’s like he’s still here sometimes, with that watching over us.”
“I’m sure he does, in some way,” Karik said. “Now, tell me what you’ve been doing. I passed by the new infirmary—that’ll be a wonderful place.”
“Did you know Meda helped design it? Kei suggested it so it would be a restful place—he thinks it will help people heal if it’s light and cheerful. I think it’ll be beautiful.”
“I’m sure it will be,” Karik said as they followed Karik’s parents into the conservatory. The room was full of Karik’s gifted friends, and there was Mila holding Jes. “Hello, everyone.”
“Karik!” Neka said with a little cry of pleasure, coming over to hug him and give him a kiss. “Beard,” she said sadly, rubbing her lips.
“Oh, don’t you start,” Karik said in mock-irritation.
“I told you, Karik,” Seiki said, coming over and greeting him warmly, before taking his hand, and getting him to sit next to her lover and their daughter. Mila immediately gave him Jes to hold. Jes looked up at him with large, green eyes as she tried to recall whether he was safe to be with or not, but then she stopped looking so worried and smiled at him.
“Where’s Gyo?”
“Here, Ka-chi,” his friend said, coming out from behind a huge potted tree. “Jes dropped her ball.” He held a cloth ball up triumphantly, and she gurgled as he handed it to her. “How was it today?”
Staying Power (Darshian Tales #3) Page 10