“I think that’s unlikely.”
Reisa grinned, but then looked confused at Karik’s cold stare. This really had to stop. Romi had been a damn fool to let it get this bad. “Never mind, it’s not really important.”
Tisin led them into the stables, where their twenty animals were crowding out the regular stock. Karik immediately went to the closest animal. “This is no good, Reisa. Bunched this close, they’ll kick and injure each other.”
Reisa looked at Romi for advice. “Tisin? You don’t have any other accommodation?”
“No, captain. Only the outside paddock.”
“Then they should be outside,” Karik said with authority. “If they’re going to acclimatise, then we should start immediately. Better to know they can’t handle it before we leave.”
“Yes, that’s sensible. Reisa? Can you get them moved? Tisin, will that be a problem?”
“No, captain, except someone will have to make sure they have unfrozen water to drink and it should be warmed a little, at least this first day.”
“I can take charge of that,” Karik said.
“No, thanks for offering, Karik, but that’s what we have the soldiers for.” Romi almost sighed as he saw Karik bristle at the implication that he wasn’t capable. “I meant, you and Soza and I and Wepizi have things to discuss today. Apart from the tent raising, the rest of the team will be sitting around with little to do.”
“I can deal with it,” Reisa said.
“And our people will also,” Tisin added politely. “No offence to your skill, my friend,” he said to Karik. “Your suggestion is very wise.”
Karik flushed. “I didn’t mean...whatever suits you,” he said, looking flustered. He walked down the ranks of close packed animals, and seemed absorbed in checking them over.
Romi ignored him for the moment. “Reisa, sort it out. Tisin, will they need someone to watch them overnight?”
“No, captain. So long as they have been fed and watered by sunset, they’ll be fine.”
“Very well.” He walked over to Karik who was looking at the foot of one of the beasts with a concerned expression. “Problem?”
“I don’t like the look of this. See?” There was a small wound where the hoof split at the toes. “It looks infected.”
“Damn. Can we treat it?”
“Yes, but not quickly. I’m worried it will go lame if we take it on the snow.”
“Your advice?”
“Try and swap it for one of the barracks animals.”
“Right, I’ll speak to Wepizi. What about the others, can you check them?”
Karik suddenly remembered who he was speaking to. “Are you sure you want me to do that, captain?” he said in a low voice. Fortunately, Reisa had moved away to talk to Tisin, and so could not hear their conversation.
“Yes,” Romi said, as evenly as he could. “I’d be very grateful for your help in his matter. Reisa has no special training, he’s a surveyor, not a beast manager.”
“And I’m just a pissing Prij.”
“Look, I’ve never called you that, so don’t invent insults. I can’t help it if I remind you of all the people who’ve attacked you in your life, but I’ve never given a damn what nationality you are.” He made Karik look at him until he won a reluctant nod. “All right then. So I say again, I’d be grateful for your help. In fact, if I could put you in charge of supervising the animal care, it would be an enormous relief.” Sensing this wasn’t the greatest incentive, he added, “It would help the mission a good deal.”
“So why didn’t you ask me in Darshek?”
“Because I’m not infallible, and I’m rearranging things as we need them, just as you’ve rearranged the accommodation for the animals. Give me a little slack, or do you do everything perfectly first time, every time? If so, then you should be the captain, not me.”
“Oh, no, not I—would I lower myself to being military?”
The brat was mocking him. “If it’s good enough for your honoured uncle, then I’d have thought it was good enough for you. I’m not serious.”
“I never thought you were. Very well—but if I’m in charge, then I expect to be given the respect that entails. If you treat my advice with disdain, I will cease to offer it, is that clear?”
Those amazing green eyes burned with cold pride as he demanded an answer. “Perfectly. I’ll let Reisa and the others know you have that authority. Final decisions and responsibility rest with me, never forget that. Is that clear?”
“Perfectly,” Karik mimicked. “Then you can begin by assisting me, or asking someone else to do so. I want go over every beast with a fine tooth comb because we can’t afford to start out with injuries like this.”
“Agreed. I’ll assist, Reisa’s busy.”
Karik shot him a quick look, and then nodded. Romi kept out of his way as Karik quickly and efficiently examined the beasts. He kept his observations to himself, but secretly he couldn’t help but be impressed at the easy way Karik had with the big animals, his confidence in handling them and the extensive knowledge which clearly underpinned his brief comments. It reminded Romi of when he’d been a child, following his much older brothers around their farm and learning the way of the land, the secrets of the seasons and the climate. Or even watching his mother cook or weave, with a talent that seemed instinctive but which he knew full well had been learned from her father. Seeing competence and skill unostentatiously displayed was one of the things he most enjoyed in life, but damned if he’d let Karik know of his admiration. The brat’s ego was healthy enough without it.
At last Karik was done. “Right—if we can swap those three, well and good, but we can manage if we can’t, though I really don’t want to take that one,” he said, pointing to the first one he’d spotted as being injured. “We can manage with one less animal if we have to.”
“Agreed. I’ll speak to Wepizi about swapping it, but I don’t know if they can spare us one of the right quality—I’d appreciate your checking any borrowed beast over as well.”
“Yes, I’m sure you would,” Karik said coolly as he washed his hands.
“Anyway, I’m grateful. You see, we can work together if we need to. All we need is a little respect and civility and we’re fine.”
Karik’s expression turned glacial. “You’ll never have my respect, captain,” he said through clenched teeth. “And you will get the civility I deem you deserve. I would prefer you to not make such personal observations.”
“As you wish,” Romi said wearily, not wanting an argument.
“You mentioned needing us to meet with the lep?”
“Yes, later—I’ll come find you. Are you going out to watch the tent being raised?”
“I don’t plan to just watch, captain. Come find me when you’re ready.”
And with that, he walked out of the stable without a glance backwards. Romi swore to himself at the man’s arrogance, but there was no doubt Karik had just done the team a service. A lame animal, let alone three, would be a great inconvenience and they didn’t need that right at the start of the mission. Time would tell if he could keep up the role, but so long as he did his job, Romi wouldn’t much care about the rest of it. Pity though—he really was a handsome little brat.
Staying Power: 13
Karik tried to put lieutenant arse right out of his mind as he walked carefully across the snowy yard to the sleeping quarters, but he couldn’t help wondering what the man was up to, asking him to take charge of the beast management. Reisa was competent enough, though he had no special skill—all soldiers knew the basics of animal care, naturally, but very few had the level of knowledge of Karik’s Pa or even Karik himself. It made him wonder why no official beast master had been appointed for the team—it seemed on the level of incompetence which had let the men travel from Urshek without an appointed medic. Perhaps that was just how they organised things in south Darshian. Very annoying. Lieutenant arse was lucky Karik had some skills in that direction, but that was all it was—luck,
not planning.
He shook his head, wondering at the lack of forethought, as he entered the sleeping quarters. They were deserted—except for one man. Just as Karik had thought, Soza had decided to ignore Romi’s pointed hint, and was sitting near the stove, busily making notes. “Oh, are you done?” Soza said, lifting his head briefly, but then looking down at the last thing he’d written and scratching it out with his pencil.
“For now—I’m going to learn how to raise the tent. You really ought to come too, Soza.”
“I don’t need to be involved in that,” he said impatiently, not even lifting his eyes from his work. “That’s what the soldiers are for.”
Despite himself, Karik felt his temper rise, and forced himself to take a deep breath or two before replying. “No, that’s not right,” he said with as much politeness in his tone as he could manage. “They’re not our servants.”
“I never said they were. But my job is not to look after the day-to-day running of the camp. That’s our dear lieutenant’s task.”
“Soza, if there’s a blizzard, we’ll need to get the tent up as fast as we can. If it rains, we’ll want to get dry. If we have people injured, or sick, we’ll need all the hands we can get. The weather won’t care if we’re soldiers or scientists.”
Soza looked up, and laid his pencil down. “You’re saying I need to do this?”
“Yes, I am. It won’t hurt to start doing things with them as a team either, whatever your opinion of the captain, which I share, trust me.”
“I don’t need to do manual labour to be part of this team,” Soza said stiffly. “I won’t be asking them to make my notes for me.”
“No, and I would expect them to take the greater part of the mundane tasks, as was agreed. But this is about survival as much as anything. You and I might have to put that tent up on our own one day, and it will be too late for lessons then.”
“Very well, good point.” He collected his papers and took them over to his pack near the wall. “You shouldn’t let them bully you into doing their work. You’re not a common soldier.”
“I know that. But I don’t want to end up dead because I was too proud to learn some basic skills, or to offer help when it’s asked.”
“I bet our lieutenant wouldn’t be so practical,” Soza said with a sniff, pulling on his heavy clothes. “Gods, this clothing is horrible to wear,” he complained as Karik helped him buckle everything up.
“You’ll get used to it, and in a few weeks we can shed it. With any luck we won’t need it again.”
“I hope not.”
Actually Karik was impressed by the design and economy of the clothes, and it was certainly effective. They weren’t as heavy as they could be, and were waterproof as well as wind-proof. He was already used to wearing them, and thought them surprisingly comfortable. But to a man like Soza used to the very mild climate of south Darshian, where a coat was unusual, let alone gear like this, they must have felt a burden.
They were directed out to the back of the barracks into a large field where the soldiers had a tent half-erected—or half-disassembled, Karik wasn’t sure. Taz waved at him and beckoned him over, then Karik and Soza were set to work without the least ceremony, Taz and Sibu quickly explaining what was needed. The tent was going up, so Karik was told to hold the cross-braced frame at his side, while oiled leather and felt was stretched over it. “Careful, my friend, don’t put too much stress on it,” their Andonese instructor said, coming over and guiding his arm. “Let the weight do the work.”
The tent was huge, and needed at least six of them to work at all, each working in close coordination. Soza lost patience almost immediately. “This is ridiculous,” he snapped. “I’m going back inside. This isn’t my job.” He simply dropped his end and marched off across the snow. Jou had to take the weight, and shot Soza an annoyed look, for which Karik didn’t blame her at all. There wasn’t any point in pushing it, but he really hoped it wouldn’t come to Soza being one of the necessary six to erect it on the trail.
It took several attempts, and a lot of cursing, but suddenly Karik got the knack, and then the tent rose like a giant fungi, skin taut, and frame secure. “Now, don’t stand and admire it, take it down,” their instructor, Tekwisu, ordered with a grin. Someone enjoyed teasing his Darshianese colleagues.
Tekwisu had them raise it and take it down three times, until he was satisfied they could do it in twenty minutes. “Still slow,” he said dryly. “But now, I’ll show you what to do if you are reduced to fewer than six, or are forced to split up.”
To Karik’s surprise, and no little admiration, he watched Tekwisu calmly tear the frame and skin apart, then erect the smaller tent thus produced entirely on his own, in under ten minutes. “You can make up to three tents this way, if pressed,” he said, tearing the thing down, and beckoning Kepi and Taz over to start on the smaller version themselves. “It will be a lot warmer and more comfortable if you use it as one complete unit, but if you can’t find space to put it up, or you have to split your team, then you don’t need to carry extra shelter.”
Karik and Jou were paired up to put the small tent up, then she insisted on doing it once herself, Karik imitating her once she’d pulled it down. He was already plotting how he could make a lighter weight version for his own use when he returned to the field in Darshian—he was sure canvas would work very well.
They drilled for well over an hour, and had worked up a good sweat in their heavy clothes, despite the biting cold and the occasional light flurries of snow. By the time Tekwisu whistled to signal them to stop, the clouds had gone again and the sky was a brilliant deep blue, the sunlight sparkling on the ice-clad trees and the snow. “Well done, my friends, well done. I can send you out with confidence. Now all I need you to do is to learn how to pack it for easy carriage on your animals.”
The tent skin broke down into smaller parts and there was a clever trick to folding it. The frame split up into three slim portions which had their own leather bags to stow them. The most bulky parts were the roof poles and the centre ring, through which smoke and overheated air could escape when the tent was erected as a single unit.
As the poles were stowed, Karik heard his name being called by Jou, and turned around—only to be hit full in the face with a handful of snow. “You...!” Still scraping the mess from his beard, he scooped up his own handful and flung it—but it just spread and went nowhere near his smirking attacker.
“Come, come, that’s no way to behave,” Tekwisu said. Karik stopped, embarrassed at being so childish, but then Tekwisu bent and picked up some snow, compacting it with both hands. “If you’re going to do something....” He suddenly turned and pelted Jou with a much more effective snowball than Karik had made. “Do it properly!”
Karik grinned, and following Tekwisu’s example, swiftly made another weapon. Jou expected it, and was already running and slipping in the snow, but he did get her on the back of the head.
As if a signal had been given, snowballs began to fly from all directions, from Andonese and Darshianese alike, and no quarter was given to rank or sex. Karik discovered a well-aimed snowball pissing hurt, but that there was an enormous amount of satisfaction from a successful attack. There wasn’t much time in the mad hail of snow lumps to master the finer points of snowball making but Karik was getting the hang of it, and he’d always had a good aim, thanks to Gyo’s teaching. He was just aiming the perfect ball at Kepi when he heard a crunch of feet on snow behind him. Instinctively, he whirled and let fly. “Oh...hells.” Of all the people to hit by mistake.
The lieutenant dusted the snow from his chest. “Thank you, Karik,” he said deadpan.
As the team noticed his arrival, the game came to a sudden halt with a good bit of shamefaced shuffling of feet. “My apologies, captain,” Karik mumbled.
“No harm done—I just came to see if you, Pali and Matu could come and speak with Lep Wepizi. I gather you’ve all finished the tent training? Groi?”
“Yes, captain,” Te
kwisu said, looking completely unabashed. “I’ve a few more things I could impart, if there’s time.”
“Then go ahead. Karik, Pali, Matu, could you come with me? Where’s Soza?”
“Back in the quarters,” Pali said, looking as if he was going to make a rude comment, but then stopping himself as he looked at Karik.
“Jou, would you mind sending him to the lep’s office?” She saluted and peeled off.
Karik endeavoured to look sober and responsible, but he’d just given Romi a perfect reason to mock him. Despite that, the lieutenant seemed not the least annoyed as they walked back to the barracks building, the snow crunching under his feet. “So, you think you could show me how the tent gets raised?” he asked Matu.
“I think so, Romi. It’s simple once you work out how the frame works. Fascinating piece of equipment.”
“Yes, I’ve always thought so. Wepizi swears they’re as warm as a house.”
Karik walked beside them in silence. He wondered when Romi would mention the snowball—he couldn’t believe he would pass up the opportunity to be snide. He cursed himself—he’d let himself forget he was here on a serious mission. It was all right for the others—they wouldn’t be held up to the same harsh scrutiny as he and Soza were.
He was so lost in his self-recrimination, that he failed to realise Romi was talking to him. “I beg your pardon?”
“I said, Wepizi is happy to swap animals with us, and has offered to let you choose which you want to take.”
“That’s generous of him.”
“Yes, it is. This way, gentlemen.”
~~~~~~~~
Romi was enjoying himself, he had to admit. The look on Karik’s face when he’d realised who he’d hit with that snowball had been priceless, and now the man was clearly waiting to be ticked off, although why, Romi didn’t know—it wasn’t like he’d been the only one mucking about. Romi knew the attraction of a snowball fight perfectly well, and if Karik had started that nonsense, Romi was a jombeker.
Staying Power (Darshian Tales #3) Page 17