However, Karik was just a minor distraction. The task that had to be completed was going over their proposed route with Wepizi and the two soldiers who would be going with them as far as Visiqe. The plan was to do a long circuit around to the mountain capital, a journey, if undertaken direct, could be achieved in two weeks by river but which would take them three months, meandering through the marshlands and low forests, over the Gunozidei range and along the Epolniki river valley. Romi had seen a little of the marshlands, but never been further east or north of them—the hunting was rumoured to be good, supporting a small population of tribes in semi-permanent settlements. It was their aim to make contact with as many groups as they could to glean medical and geographical knowledge.
“Now, my friends,” Wepizi said, once Soza had deigned to join them, “you must be aware the law of the king and council lies only lightly in our remotest regions. They acknowledge Visiqe’s authority, but they will only give the cooperation they choose to. Most will never have seen any Darshianese, and certainly none will have encountered a Prij before,” he added with a little nod at Karik. “That doesn’t mean you will be unwelcome, but it will mean you will need to exercise considerable tact in the face of curiosity.”
“I’m used to that, Wepizi,” Karik said calmly. “It might even be to our advantage.”
“Perhaps,” Wepizi acknowledged with a smile. “I just wanted you to be aware there is only so much I can do to gain their assistance.”
“I can’t see what their objection can possibly be to a simple scientific investigation,” Soza said loftily. “It’s not like we plan to make war on them.”
“No? But how will they know that? You’re foreigners invading their territory, even if it is for supposedly peaceful purposes. The tribes are fiercely proud and answer to no one. If they perceive you as a threat, be sure you will be repelled.”
Romi saw Soza draw breath to argue and decided to cut this short. “We know we’re uninvited guests, Wepizi, and as guests, we’ll be sensitive to the feelings of our hosts. Won’t we, Soza?”
“I’m sure I need no lessons in manners from you, lieutenant.”
“Captain,” Romi corrected mildly. Wepizi gave them both a hard look, and Matu and Pali looked embarrassed. Karik revealed nothing in his expression. “Be that as it may, we will all take our lead from Wepizi and our guides, and if they say pull out or pull back, we will do so. Lord Arman charged me with two very specific duties—get everyone home safely, and don’t upset our friends. You would do well to listen to the lep’s advice, Soza.”
“I honestly don’t know why you’re taking this line with me, captain. Is that all, Lep Wepizi?”
Wepizi seemed a little startled at Soza’s abruptness. “Yes, I believe so. There’s the matter of the supplies....”
“Well you don’t need me for that, so if you would excuse me?”
Wepizi nodded and Soza left, shutting the door with an unnecessary bang behind him. “Ah. I see perhaps diplomacy may have to begin at home,” Wepizi said with an embarrassed smile.
“Leave him to me,” Romi said, wondering if Karik was going to defend his lover, but the man was still looking down at the desk, a slight flush of colour high in his cheeks. “Are we done, Wepizi? I’d like to look over the supplies.”
“Yes, of course, my friend. But perhaps Karik would like to choose the animals first?”
Karik looked up and nodded. “If we could, then we can mix them with the herd, get them used to each other. Every little bit helps.”
“Of course. Gentlemen, thank you,” Wepizi said, nodding at Romi’s men and his own. “Feive, Gizwei, you should get to know our guests better since we are to spend so much time in their pleasant company.”
The Andonese bowed, and left with Romi’s soldiers. “Karik, I’ll come with you to the stables,” Romi said as he got to his feet. “Wepizi, will you be here?”
“Yes, naturally. If you have any problems with the animals, Tisin will assist you.”
They bowed and left Wepizi to it. The pink did not leave Karik’s cheeks even as they went out into the cold again, but he said nothing as they headed to the stables. Tisin was waiting for them with a few candidate animals for Karik to inspect. Romi watched the man give the beasts the same meticulous examination that he and his father had carried out in Darshek—he wouldn’t be hurried, that was for sure. Romi was content with that—these animals would have to carry them several thousand miles and across unknown territory. He didn’t care if Karik took all day to find the best beasts for them.
Finally, Karik straightened up and nodded at Tisin. “Right, that one, this one and the one with the mottled face.”
“As you wish. I’ll take them out to the paddock now.”
Romi waited until Tisin and another stable hand got the animals in charge and took them outside. Karik seemed distracted as he watched them go.
“Are you not happy with the animals?”
“What? Oh—well, the Andonese are getting the best of the bargain but they don’t have much in the way of decent stock.”
“But they’ll do?”
“I think so.” Karik bit his lip. “Well?”
“Well, what?”
“Aren’t you going to make some comment about earlier?”
“Oh, that. Yes—good shot.”
Karik stared, and Romi nearly laughed at his obvious surprise. “Aren’t you angry?”
“Over a snowball? My, you really do know some petty people.”
“I....” His mouth snapped shut. “Is that all?” he asked coldly.
“No, one more thing. I don’t want to keep harping on about this, but Soza needs to learn some manners. I don’t care what he says—or you say—to me when we’re alone. But if he behaves like that when we meet the tribal people.... Surely you can see my point.”
“I don’t have that kind of influence over him, captain.”
That comment surprised Romi, but he didn’t show it. “Then we have a problem. If he can’t even be civil to Wepizi, I don’t know how he will act around people he presumably sees as being of even less importance. You’re in charge of the beasts, and now you’re in charge of him too. You’re the only person who can get through to him.”
“When did managing members of the team become my job?”
“The moment your friend made it clear he wasn’t going to listen to anything I said. It’s either this, or I leave him behind. I’m serious.”
Karik stared at him again. “Did Arman tell you to do this?”
“Your uncle told me to take all steps necessary. Wepizi’s worried too. There’s more to this mission than the scientific knowledge, and whether it offends you to hear it or not, I have to say this—he’s not impressing anyone so far.”
“The same could be said of you, you know,” Karik said, his embarrassment forgotten as he gave Romi a haughty look.
“Yes, very likely, but I’m in charge of this mission, not you and not him. Look—get Soza to behave, or he stays behind. Accept my right to say that, or stay behind yourself. I’m not going to tussle with you over every point. We’ve both got better things to do with our time, and frankly, it’s just pissing boring.”
Karik seemed about to snap something back, but then he merely nodded. “I’ll do what I can.”
“Thank you.”
Karik left and Romi sighed as he rubbed his forehead. Civilians.
Staying Power: 14
The problem of Soza and the irritation of Karik, were mere background noise to the work Romi had to do the rest of the day with Wepizi. When he encountered them again, Soza was cold, Karik unreadable but not overtly hostile. Since Karik took his place in the steam room without comment, Romi hoped the man was intelligent enough to understand why Romi had said what he had. Any conversations Karik had with his lover on the topic were carried out away from Romi’s hearing, and so he had no way of knowing how effective they had been.
In the morning, there was simply no time to worry about neurotic civilians as th
ey loaded their animals and began the slow trek northeast. It hadn’t snowed again, but there had been a crisp frost. The air was dry and bitterly cold, but the sun shone with something approaching warmth, and the sky was the most intense blue, like that over Darshek plain in winter, but even more brilliant. Romi felt his heart lift with excitement—finally they were on their way.
The first two weeks or so would be dull, travelling through farmland and settled areas which were of no scientific interest, and which he had seen before. But that didn’t stop him relishing the space, the freedom and the beauty of the snow-covered land as they rode the beasts at little more than a fast walk. Even this tamed part of Andon whispered to him of mystery and excitement.
They rode in pairs, he and Wepizi leading the column. He had no reason to speak to Karik and Soza who had chosen to travel towards the rear that first day, though he noted approvingly that Karik checked his lover’s hands and feet for frostbite at each rest stop, as they had all been told to do. It was obvious Soza wasn’t enjoying things much, but then Romi had never expected him to, and wouldn’t make any special accommodation for the man until he was asked.
The same enthusiasm he felt infected the rest of his team, and even the cold didn’t stop the ripples of quiet conversation up and down the line. Wepizi also looked a little more cheerful as they left Tsikiugui, and Romi hoped getting away from the scene of so much sorrow might help his healing along. Even the ache in Romi’s heart that had Daiso’s name on it had dulled much more than he would have imagined after such a short time. Was it because he was shallow, or because he had not cared for his lover as much as he’d believed? Or was it simply because he had had so many other things to occupy him?
He still had. Though he had to rely on their guides for advice about the best places to camp, every decision was ultimately his, and there were a dozen matters needing his attention during the day—making sure firewood was collected, keeping an eye out for potential game, making sure his people were keeping up and not being affected by the weather, that the beasts weren’t, and that they were making good time. Wepizi had been right—the urs beasts really didn’t seem to mind the cold at all, and they walked over the snow far more easily than the humans did. He smiled as Romi commented on this very fact. “They’re very adaptable, my friend. I feel they must be Andonese, at least in spirit.”
Romi grinned at the remark, but couldn’t help wondering why there were no native beasts in Andon, when they were found in so many other places. The fact that Soza might know, and Romi couldn’t ask him, was a niggling annoyance, like being a child again and being told not to touch the books in the house because he might damage them. ‘Childish’ was probably a better term, he thought wryly, and tore his thoughts away from the scientists.
He didn’t fail to note that Karik threw his efforts into all the camp making and the tent raising, but Soza managed to always find somewhere else to be. He wasn’t the only one who’d noticed it either. “Does he think he’s too fine for the work?” Jou muttered as he helped her tension a guy rope.
“Look at this way, corporal—do you want to sleep in a tent he’s helped to raise?”
“Not really—but I think if he’s too good to raise it, he’s too good to sleep in it. I’d tell him that too, if I didn’t like Karik so well.”
“Best to hold your tongue. I can do without the tantrums.”
She gave him a rueful smile at that, then moved further around to help Taz with his end. Karik had gone with Reisa to settle the beasts. Romi went over to see how the animals had fared that day, and found them building a fire to melt snow. “Everything under control? Any of the animals suffering from the cold?” he asked Karik as Reisa went for the metal bucket they would be using for the purpose.
“Do you think I wouldn’t tell you, captain?”
“No, not at all. I’m just taking an interest.”
Karik gave him an icy look. “Don’t,” he said, then turned his back on him.
Ah, well. That would teach him to be nice.
They were using barracks rations tonight, but they would need to start living off the land as soon as they could. They all carried crossbows, and had instructions to point out any likely looking game, as well as strict orders not to kill anything that looked remotely like a domestic doig—the last thing they wanted was to antagonise a farmer by poaching. But there were wild doigs and weti to be had, and waterfowl too, and Wepizi said that soon the dowkiqu would wake from their hibernation and make themselves prey as they looked for food among the melting snows.
They had already seen a few grazing doigs, their shaggy fur encrusted with snow, seeming part of the land itself until they moved. Soon there would be plants pushing up through the snow, and as they approached the forests, there would be berries and nuts to supplement any game they would collect. Romi had always prided himself when he had taken field exercises in using as little of the provisions they brought with them as they possibly could, and on bringing back fresh meat for the barracks. He wanted them to be as self-sufficient as possible, and to learn the woodcraft peculiar to this land from their guides as quickly as they could. Their lives might depend on it.
The tent was up, and already smoke rose faintly above it in the gloom. The temperature inside was noticeably warmer with everyone clustered in a circle around the small portable stove on which they would cook their supper. The floor of the tent was comfortable and well-padded with saddle blankets, felt pads which were an integral part of the design, and the thick doig hides they had been given to use as sleeping mats—their usual sleeping rolls being inadequate for the conditions. In addition, each of the team had been issued with a little folding stool, to keep rumps off frozen ground when keeping watch.
While Feive and Netu cooked supper, the rest of them chewed hard biscuits and drank spiced tea. Some of his people were stretched on their sleeping hides, others used the little stools. Everyone seemed to be handling things well. Everyone but Soza, of course, who looked cold and out of sorts. Some of that had to do with the long day’s ride. He would have to trust Karik to tell him if it was more serious than that. From Karik’s expression, there was no need for concern just yet.
As they ate the soup and camp bread, Wepizi told them about the history of this part of Andon. “Once,” he said, stroking his moustache reflectively, “Andon was ruled by no one man alone, and the only government here was a council of tribes. But then warlords came from the eastern lands, and forced the tribes and settlements to bend to their will. There was over a hundred and fifty years of oppression and cruelty—terrible things done to the people who lived in the low country and the hills in this area. Whole tribes taken into slavery, others decimated. It’s a wonder any survived.”
“I heard something about refuges in the hills and in the northern ranges?”
Wepizi nodded. “Yes, we think that’s where some of the tribal peoples hid, though the locations remain a fiercely guarded secret. Let me warn you—if there’s the least suspicion that we’re looking for these, not only will cooperation dry up like spit on a griddle, we could find ourselves in a very hostile situation. It might be three generations since the line of Godiw freed our people from the warlords and gave the tribes their freedom, but that is but a moment in time to them. The army now protects the people, not oppresses it, but the memory of oppression is still strong.”
“What of the Gifted?” That was Karik.
“Ah, well, they were even more tormented by the war lords, and for many years none have been known in our land. We suspect they still exist, but they have remained hidden. How new births have been concealed, I don’t know—perhaps they really have been destroyed. We have far fewer minor gifted than the Darshianese, I know. A grave loss to our nation.”
“I was told by my mother where I should go if there was ever another invasion,” Romi said. “I think all gifted learn this secret at some point. They have to have done—how else did we keep the secret from the Prij for twenty years while they had control of the sou
th?” Did he imagine Karik looking a little flushed at that comment? “And no, I’m not telling you where it is,” he added with a grin.
“A wise man,” Wepizi said, smiling. “But now you see why there is even more reason to tread very lightly. The tribes’ freedom was won at a terrible cost. They won’t surrender it again without a bloody battle.”
Romi wondered about the different ways the Andonese and the Darshianese had dealt with imposed suzerains, but then the eastern war lords had been far crueller even than the Prij, and much more barbaric. The Prij had wanted settled colonies, the warlords only to rape and pillage the lands. Both had ruthlessly suppressed rebellion, but given a choice, Romi knew who he’d choose to rule over him, if he had to have one or the other.
Tooth sticks were passed around, and hands washed in a small bowl of warmed water as a minimal concession to hygiene and grooming. There was one task that had to be carried out away from the tent, naturally, and Romi left to do just that, lighting a sprite to guide his way. Kepi and Taz waved at him, making exaggerated shivers as they did, as he passed where the beasts were tied together for the night. Kepi and Taz were on the first watch, drinking soup out of heavy lidded mugs as they hunched around a deliberately large fire. At least with this many people, Romi could keep the shifts down to just over an hour—but it was necessary to keep a fire going near the beasts if they weren’t to be lost to one of the carnivores that roamed Andon, and which, at this time of year, were lean and desperate for food.
He untied his trousers, appreciating once again why winter clothing in Andon didn’t use laces which needed bare fingers to undo, and shivered as he relieved his bladder. He didn’t look around as dancing lamplight warned him someone was approaching—he expected there to be a little rush as people hastened to do their business before settling down for the night.
“Captain?”
He turned. “Yes, Karik?”
“Sibu said you’d handed out the watch roster. Which watch am I keeping?”
Staying Power (Darshian Tales #3) Page 18