Heavily armed soldiers were present in good numbers too, many wearing armour, which Karik thought was rather menacing. Wepizi noticed his frown. “Holdover from the war,” he said quietly.
“Even now?”
“Memories run long and deep, my friends, and our land was deeply scarred. Your own still carries its own wounds from the war with the Prij, does it not?”
Karik had to admit this was true, and was glad Kei wasn’t here to see the soldiers.
Others in the team looked around with wide-eyed excitement, and even though Romi rapped out curt commands for everyone to stay in formation, Karik rather thought he was a little wide-eyed too.
Soon enough they came to the barracks, which was built of stone, not the rough timber of the Tsikiugui establishment. Their papers were carefully checked and their entrance watched by a good many pairs of eyes—still wary after all these years, Karik noted. But once they dismounted, they were greeted by Wepizi’s counterpart, Lep Rigiz, and warmly welcomed. “Right, everyone, let’s find a bath,” Romi said, clapping Wepizi’s shoulder.
There were groans of agreement. Karik would kill—well, seriously annoy someone—for a bath after months where the best they could manage had been quick cloth washes and the occasional dowsing of hair in warmed water when they couldn’t stand the dirt any more.
But not everyone was happy at the prospect. “Excuse me, lieutenant.”
“Captain,” Romi corrected. “What is it, Soza?”
“I’m not staying in the barracks. I understood the need for it in Tsikiugui where facilities are so primitive, but here there are inns and boarding houses, and I want some privacy before we set off again.”
Karik almost groaned at Soza bringing this up. Who cared where they slept?
“Oh? And why should you be treated so differently from everyone else?”
“Because Karik and I are civilians. It’s not appropriate for us to be forced to sleep like the military.”
Romi glanced at Karik as if to judge his reaction. “There’s no funds for this, you know that. You’ll have to pay for it yourself.”
“Ah, actually,” Wepizi said, smiling apologetically, “I understand his majesty has agreed to cover your expenses, whatever they be, for this part of the journey as he has for the previous part. I doubt he would baulk at the cost of an inn for a few days.”
From Romi’s expression, he rather wished his friend had shut up—and Karik did too. “I don’t know the city, and I have no idea what vacancies there are. I’m certainly not going to delay a bath to find out.”
Wepizi quickly explained to the Visiqe officer what the problem was. “Allow me,” Lep Rigiz said. “I’ll send someone to book rooms for your people. Two, is it?”
Karik had actually been looking forward to the barracks since he’d come to enjoy the company of his friends, but he couldn’t really abandon Soza, so he nodded reluctantly. Romi made a disgusted noise. “As you wish. I expect you to attend the meetings here and I’m not sending people to fetch you. I don’t like this and I’m not making it easy for you.”
“That’s perfectly clear, captain,” Karik said, irritated at the lack of graciousness. Soza was being difficult, but Romi knew better than to be like this. It just made it worse, and Karik suspected he did it deliberately.
As they’d been speaking in Darshianese, at least Lep Rigiz hadn’t understood the snottiness, though the tone was unmistakeable. Now, as Romi curtly assented to the arrangement, he smiled politely. “Well, then, my friends, let me arrange the accommodation and have you taken there. You’ll have to wait here until that’s done.”
And that was why Karik had to sit, fuming silently, in his reeking clothes and grimy skin, next to a smugly superior Soza, while the rest of the team went off to enjoy the steam room and a thorough, delicious wash. He could have strangled Soza, honestly. It hardly improved his mood when the rooms they were finally directed too—after nearly two hours—were cramped and shabby. To hear Soza described them though, they could have been the finest accommodation offered by the Rulers of Darshek. By this point, Karik didn’t give a damn what Soza thought on any subject. “If I don’t get a bath in the next ten minutes, I swear I’ll do myself or someone else a mischief.”
Soza finally noticed his companion was gritting his teeth with irritation. “My dear boy, I’m so sorry. I’m sure the inn has facilities.”
And so it had, though not as spacious and clean and friendly as those in the barracks would have been, Karik was quite certain. However, they provided what he desperately needed, and once his hair was washed and groomed, his body clean and his clothes handed over for much needed laundering, he wasn’t inclined to hold a grudge. The discovery that there was a dining hall near the inn which served cheap and generous meals did as much as the bath to improve his mood.
“Now, isn’t this better than the barracks?” Soza asked, beaming at him as they finished a delicious stew and washed it down with a berry juice Karik had not encountered before. “I tell you, I’m so glad to get away from those blasted soldiers. This last three months have been a terrible trial.”
Karik felt less cross, but not that mellow that he was prepared to let this calumny slide. “I’m sorry you feel that way. I’ve enjoyed it for the most part, and I find our team some of the finest people I’ve ever worked with.”
“Is that so? Then I assume you and Lieutenant Romi now see eye to eye on every subject.”
“Captain Romi has performed his role with credit. Whatever personal issues I may have with him don’t detract from that.” Gods, he was sick of Soza banging this drum. “You’ve only got to look at the material we’ve gathered, and the information we’ve recorded, to prove that the expedition has been a wonderful success.” He struggled to find a way of turning this conversation in a positive direction. “It may be we’ve even had our hands on the panacea—there are so many medicines we can try now.”
Ah, he had found the right key at last. “Now, this is true,” Soza said, smiling brightly. “My word, the drugs the Andonese could be making—of course, they don’t know what they have half the time,” he added dismissively, “and then there are the criminal elements who abuse what might be turned to good use.”
“You’re referring to gerot and yimito and the like? We have toxic narcotics too. It’s just that no one seems to be interested in exploiting them.”
“Well, we must make allowances for more primitive minds, I suppose.”
Karik flushed, glad they were speaking Darshianese. “Perhaps that’s not a very diplomatic comment to make, considering....”
“Oh, you worry too much, Karik,” he said airily. “Now, if you’re finished, we should really present ourselves to the academy here. I’ve got so much I want to do while we’re in Visiqe.”
~~~~~~~~
The perks of being an officer, Romi thought, as he threw himself onto the bunk in the guest quarters Wepizi would use for the next week or so. Of course he was bunking with his team—he could have shared with Wepizi but he’d thought that a little unfair. He regretted that decision now. “I could get used to a bed again,” he said regretfully.
“Ah, yes—well, I think you’ll find the sleeping pallets comfortable enough. It’s a well-provided barracks—you might think us primitive in Tsikiugui, but some of the provincial establishments are more barren than sleeping in the open.”
That reminded Romi and he sat up, the better to glare at Wepizi. “Speaking of which—why in pissing hells did you let that damn idiot get his way? Now we’ll have to send runners after the pair of them every time we need to have a meeting—it’s not like Soza deserves any special treatment.”
“It’s not a matter of ‘deserve’, my friend. They need time together—privately. Have you forgotten already what it is like to have a lover?”
“You’re not doing your little friend any favours by pushing them together, you know.”
“They are already together, Romi. I am merely being respectful of their relationship.”
/>
“You’re an incurable romantic, Wepizi.”
Wepizi sat down and gave him a serious look. “To deny love,” he said quietly, “in whatever form, is a sin, and even Soza has a right to that joy. We who now live without it, must make allowances for those who have their chance still.”
“Wepizi, you might find another to love. No one could take Lema’s place, but it is possible to love two people in one lifetime.”
“Perhaps. I somehow doubt I would find another to whom I could give my whole heart. It would be wrong to hold back, but I cannot pretend that Lema did not take the greatest part of me with her.”
“I would never deny your right to grieve, my friend,” Romi said. “There are still many good people in the world. If you believe Lema waits for you, you should believe she will guide you to someone who can accept you and your love for her.”
Wepizi smiled. “Now that’s a beautiful thought. Thank you, my friend—it gives me courage. And likewise I believe you will find someone who doesn’t care about your infertility—if our Soza can find a prize like Karik, surely a fine man like you should have no problem.”
“Good point,” Romi admitted. “Mind you, with bastards like him standing guard over lovers so much better than them, maybe there’s nothing left for people like me.”
Wepizi’s eyes twinkled, all signs of sadness gone. “So what you’re saying is that you are no competition for someone like Soza?” He dodged the pillow Romi threw at his cheeky head. “Ah, so this is all about your insecurity. I must work harder to help you regain your confidence, my friend.”
“You really are a cast iron pain in the arse, lep Wepizi.”
Staying Power: 17
The academy in Visiqe was a very different and much smaller institution than its sister in Darshek. It did very little actual training and there was a distinctly provincial feel to the academy, though it was responsible for sending publications to medical and technical personnel all over Andon, and for testing new materials and medicines as they were sent to the capital. Kei had trained several of their more senior researchers, so he was well-known to their scholars.
Karik presented their papers, and in a very short time, a young man came hurrying out. “Welcome, welcome—Karik, how wonderful to see you again!”
Karik was taken aback—he hadn’t expected to see a friend in this place. “Ritizik! I didn’t know you were still here.”
He bowed, and then Ritizik embraced him happily. “I came back six months ago when I won the position of translator.”
“Ahem.”
Karik turned with a guilty start. “Oh, I’m sorry—Ritizik, this is Soza of Urshek. I’m sure you know of his work.”
“Indeed,” Ritizik said with a deep and respectful bow. “You are most welcome, Master Soza. The prospect of your arrival has been the subject of much excitement among our scholars.”
Soza seemed a little mollified by these gracious words. “Well...thank you. Of course, I have been very eager to meet you all. Are we to do so now?”
“Ah, naturally, yes. Come this way. Karik, you’re so thin!”
“You try being on the trail for nearly four months, Ritizik, and see if you have a paunch left.”
“Good point, my friend.”
Karik let Soza walk ahead, sensing his mentor was irritated again. He couldn’t help it if Ritizik knew him and not Soza, but Soza was the established researcher, and Karik had no reputation in that area.
They were taken to a library cum meeting room—it was clear the facilities here were nowhere near as spacious as those in Darshian—and at their arrival, the group of Andonese scholars rose as one man and bowed. Ritizik did the honours. “My friends, this is Soza of Urshek, and my friend, Karik of Darshek.”
An elderly scholar came to them and bowed, greeting them in rather awkward Darshianese. “Welcome, my friends. I am Jerzwi. Master Soza, we have eagerly awaited your appearance. Is your friend an expert on our flora too?”
“Karik is my student, Jerzwi. A very capable assistant, naturally.”
Karik smiled and thought it wasn’t the most polite way Soza could have introduced him—still, they were in Soza’s native environment now, so Karik couldn’t begrudge him a little boasting.
That theme continued as Soza was shown around the collections, and asked about the collecting they had done thus far. Ritizik acted as translator for Jerzwi, whose Darshianese was very poor, though rather better than Soza’s Andonese. “Master Jerzwi wishes to know how you found using the soldiers as assistants? We have been considering mounting some smaller expeditions if yours is successful, but our military have no experience in such things.”
“My dear fellow, you can’t believe how tiresome it is. You really must try to avoid using soldiers—they’re rude, unhelpful and incredibly clumsy.”
“Oh. I am sorry to hear that—it’s most disappointing.”
“Soza....” Karik stopped, not wanting to argue the point but at the same time, quite annoyed at this gross misrepresentation. “I don’t think that’s very fair.”
Soza gave him a fierce look. “Are you questioning my honesty, Karik?”
“No, just—”
“Then be quiet. Ritizik asked me the question, not you.”
Karik blinked, and Ritizik looked as he wished he was elsewhere. Jerzwi seemed confused, since Ritizik hadn’t translated Soza’s rebuke. “As you wish,” Karik said quietly, seething inwardly. Soza had no business turning the Andonese off their own expeditions.
Ritizik looked at him, then at Soza, and fortunately decided this was a matter best left to the two Darshianese. “This way, gentlemen—you will want to see our collections, I’m sure.”
Like the rest of the academy, the collection was small, but very useful, and Karik could see several days work ahead of him making notes for the next leg of their journey as well as finishing off the ones to accompany the material being taken back to Darshian. “I understand from Master Jezinke that there is a large medicines market in the city,” Soza said. “I would like to see it, if I may.”
“We can arrange a visit when it is convenient,” Ritizik said. “You only have to say the word.”
“I also understand you keep a store of prohibited drugs here?”
Ritizik translated, and Jerzwi nodded. “Yes, we do. Presumably the master explained that possession of gerot and similar substances is strictly forbidden. However, the king and council have graciously allowed us to keep a reference collection, since they understand such drugs may have a medicinal use. They are carefully controlled, of course, and a government official conducts an annual inventory. We must account for every ounce or there would be consequences.”
Ritizik showed Karik and Soza the surprisingly large store of drugs held in a cabinet at the end of the reference collection room. “Little is being done,” he said with regret. “We simply do not have people with the knowledge as yet to profitably do so. We have several young people at the Darshek academy who we hope will bring back the necessary skills, but as always in Andon, we have more riches than we have people to use them.”
“Such a shame,” Soza said, looking distracted. “Well now, we should make a start. Karik, I want you to keep notes.”
That wasn’t what Karik had planned at all, and being set a clerk’s task when he had so much of his own work to do, just added to his disgruntlement. Four months away from Darshian had dulled his diplomatic skills, however, because he was unsuccessful in hiding his irritation from his friend. Soza took him to task as soon as they were outside the academy gates. “My word, Karik, I hadn’t realised you could be so impossibly rude.”
“I’m sorry, but you shouldn’t slander our team like that.”
Soza stopped dead. “I beg your pardon, young man—are you accusing me of a crime?”
“No, of course not—”
“I should hope not. I spoke honestly and it is my sincere belief that we could have done much better with a civilian workforce. Of course, you’ve become so blinded by you
r admiration for that damnable lieutenant that you can’t see how appalling the situation is.”
“I’m nothing of the kind,” Karik said indignantly. “But you said they were clumsy and incompetent, and they’re not, not even a little bit. Romi’s done a perfectly good job as leader of the expedition and it’s not fair of you to put personal preferences ahead of that.”
“I see. You might remember who you are talking to. I don’t appreciate my juniors ticking me off in this manner.”
“I thought we were equal in rank on this expedition.”
“That is not what your esteemed uncle told me. Perhaps you’ve forgotten who’s really in charge—not that oaf, but the Rulers of Darshek.”
“My uncle values loyalty,” Karik said, stung by Soza’s dismissive tone. “And you’re not being loyal to people who’ve worked with us and helped us for months. I don’t care who’s in charge, I’m not standing for that.”
“Your loyalty to that man will bring you to grief, I promise you. In the future, however, I insist you do not show such rudeness to people with whom I have a professional relationship—or does your loyalty only extend to people in uniform?”
Karik gritted his teeth, and bit back at least half a dozen snide observations of how his loyalty to Soza had made the trip so much harder for him. “I won’t be rude again,” he said finally. “But I would prefer you didn’t insult the team in my hearing.”
“You should learn to respect your elders. You don’t treat me with the deference my experience should warrant and yet you insist on defending a man who’s been nothing but offensive to me.”
“This isn’t about—” He clenched his jaw. “Let’s not quarrel. Our visit is too short to waste in his manner.”
Staying Power (Darshian Tales #3) Page 22