He’d let his passions get the better of him, and Karik looked a little stunned. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to speak to you like that.”
“It’s al-all right. C-Can you l-leave me al-alone now?”
“Yes, certainly. The building across the yard with the flag is the guard post. If you go out—and I hope you won’t—tell them, and if you need me, they’ll know where I am. If you need anything, Karik, tell me. Or tell one of the team. Don’t not get over this because of something we could do for you.”
Karik nodded, and turned away again, which Romi figured was his cue to leave the poor bastard alone. He left him standing there, looking young and forlorn, and wondered what anyone could do to repair the damage that pissing rapist had caused. Romi had only dealt with a single truly vicious rape in his career, though he’d had three cases where drunken sex and wrongly presumed consent had caused a good deal of pain and anger for the victims. In those situations, at least the parties were known to each other, and the man was usually deeply remorseful when he’d realised what he’d done. For it to be a stranger, apparently random, was so much worse, at least so it seemed to Romi. He knew very little about the effects of something like this, but he’d had so little reason to study it. For all Romi sometimes regretted its dull and provincial nature, Temshek was a very safe place where serious crime was thankfully rare. He missed it right now.
He found Wepizi and told him Karik was out of the infirmary. His friend listened with sympathy to his description of the not terribly successful conversation. “I don’t think you can do much more for him just now, Romi. He needs time to sort things out in his head. It’s unfortunate he’s decided to leave the infirmary while he’s not completely fit, but perhaps he dislikes being coddled.”
“That’s the impression I got, but I don’t know how he’ll feel being surrounded by fifty or sixty other people. I’d send him back to the inn if it weren’t for Soza, and if it weren’t for the fact I want to be able to watch him.”
“Sounds like he wouldn’t let you anyway, my friend.” Wepizi shook his head. “Some journeys must be made alone.”
Which was true, but rather harsh. He tried not to look as if he was watching Karik in particular as the soldiers returned to the sleeping quarters for the evening meal. The rest of the team greeted Karik enthusiastically, but he was clearly trying not to cringe. It obviously took all his courage to let them pat his shoulder and stand close to him. Romi now wished he’d been more explicit in his instructions to his people, but not being stupid, any of them, they backed off anyway when they saw his reaction. No one got any more conversation out of him than Romi had earlier.
Karik took his food and sat down to eat it at the end of the table, and left to sit on his sleeping mat long before the others had started to drink their tea. Romi’s people respected his need for privacy but there were still a good many curious looks, and not just from the Darshianese. Romi thought it wouldn’t do any good to say anything, so he didn’t. But he felt very bad for the pain Karik was obviously carrying in body and soul.
He wasn’t surprised Karik didn’t join them at the steam room. Naturally his strange reticence was mentioned, but Romi discouraged open speculation. It seemed unfair to talk about Karik’s obvious incapacity when he didn’t know what was being said—he’d had his privacy violated enough. When the rest of them returned to the quarters, Karik was already bundled up on his sleeping furs, his pad shoved as far into the corner as he could manage it, the message unmistakeable—“leave me alone.” Wepizi and Romi did their best to deflect attention from the silent figure in the corner, but Romi had to wonder how he would avoid his fellows in the more intimate environment of the tent while they were on the trail. He would need to talk to Wepizi about it the following day, he decided. It could be pure torment for the man if he continued to find close contact with other people so difficult.
~~~~~~~~
Romi usually fell asleep easily, and tonight was no exception. As was also usual, he slept lightly, so he wasn’t surprised to find himself awake some time later—it happened two or three times a night while they were in foreign barracks, the unfamiliar sounds of unfamiliar soldiers enough to keep his senses on alert. He didn’t mind, as he would go back to sleep quickly enough, and usually he didn’t even bother trying to work out what had woken him. But this time, there was something new—something the back of his mind told him to pay attention to. He lifted his head and searched the gloom, lit only by three low lamps that provided just enough light for a sleepy soldier to pick their way around unconscious bodies on the way to the latrine. At first he could see nothing, but then he looked over to the sleeping pad in the corner—and realised the occupant was missing. The noise had been a door opening and closing—and he knew instinctively that it hadn’t been the one to the latrines.
Silently he rose and found his coat—Karik’s was still on its peg, so he lifted it off and took it with him. He didn’t have to search at all—the man was sitting on the edge of the verandah, staring out into the yard. He started violently as he heard Romi’s footstep.
“Easy—I just brought your coat. It’s still a bit too cold to be sitting in your shirtsleeves.” Indeed, there was a frosty feel to the clear mountain air, and even in his coat, Romi shivered a little.
Karik accepted the coat and put it around his shoulders without a word. Romi sat down near him—not too close—and lit a fire sprite. “Couldn’t sleep?” Karik shook his head. “You’re not in pain?”
“N-no m-more than u-usual.”
Which could mean anything, really. “Ah well. It’s a lovely night. The stars seem so close up here, don’t you think? I could look at them all night, they’re fascinating.” That earned him a quick glance from his companion. “Feive and Gizwei are leaving in the next day or two—I suppose you know that.”
Karik nodded but said nothing. Romi thought he might try at least to suggest an alternative. “You know, the team’s got the collecting technique down to a fine art, and we won’t be dealing with anything like the number of tribes we were in the low country. Wepizi and I were thinking there might be an advantage in trimming the group down a little, and I was going to ask if anyone wanted to go home at this point.” He hesitated. “That includes you, of course.”
Karik didn’t seem to have heard—at least there was no reaction. “Karik? You could be back in Darshek in five weeks, if you wanted to....”
“N-No.”
“All right. If you change your mind—”
“N-No.”
“As you wish,” Romi said peaceably, as if it wasn’t of the least importance. “It’s pretty chilly, don’t you think? Maybe you should try sleeping again.”
“I c-can’t....”
“Sleep?”
“Rem-member. I c-can’t re-member a-anything. Wuh-why c-can’t uh-I?”
In the firelight, Romi saw his companion trembling, and he doubted it was because of the cold. He laid a hand on Karik’s shoulder. “Listen—”
He’d only meant to comfort him, but Karik reacted as if he had applied a brand to him, leaping up and yelling, “No!” in a panic before running into the yard, his coat falling from his shoulders. Romi instinctively started to go after him, but found a hand laid on his own shoulder. He looked up and saw Jou. “Let me,” she said quietly.
“Go on,” he said, subsiding, watching her pick up Karik’s coat, and walk quickly over to where he stood with his head thrown back, his hands clenching and unclenching, his violent trembling visible even in the moonlight. At first he repelled her too, almost angrily, as she insisted on putting the coat on him, but she persisted, holding the coat closed around his shoulders and making him face her. What he had rejected from Romi, he reluctantly accepted from her, and in moments his face was buried on her shoulder as she held him close. Romi didn’t need the faint sounds to tell him that Karik was sobbing.
Poor sod. Romi felt embarrassed to witness his breakdown, but at the same time, he didn’t want to walk off and abandon them, or
to make Karik feel like it was shameful to be so upset, so he just sat in silence and waited. He was so grateful that Jou’s instincts had woken her—she always knew the right thing to do or say. Romi felt out of his depth in this situation.
Jou held Karik for a long time, endlessly patient. This was what Karik needed, Romi was sure—an undemanding, non-judgmental soul to comfort him, and he certainly wouldn’t have got such gentleness from his lover, even if the bastard had the slightest inclination to try.
Though the night was drawing on, and Romi was cold and uncomfortable, he wouldn’t leave his post until he was sure the other two were all right. Finally Jou and Karik walked back. Romi stood, ready to go inside and give them privacy, but Karik lifted his head and looked right at him.
“H-have you g-got t-time?”
“Of course.” Jou sat down on the verandah edge and so did Karik. Romi settled again, and tried not to look as cold as he felt. He lit another fire sprite, just for the comfort of the light.
“I-I’m s-sorry.”
“There’s no need to be, Karik. We look out for each other—that’s what a team is for.”
Karik nodded, his hands clenching as they rested on his thighs. “I c-can’t rem-member wuh-what hah-happened.”
“It’s the drug,” Jou said. “It’s not something you can control.”
“I k-keep th-thinking, wuh-what if th-they are wuh-waiting fuh-for me...wuh-what d-did I d-do to muh-make them c-come ah-after me?”
“Nothing,” Romi said firmly. “Nothing at all, I’m absolutely sure of that. I told you—bad luck, that’s what it was. Maybe...they noticed your hair, or you were in the right place at the wrong time, or you reminded them of someone else—but Karik, no one asks for this to be done to them.”
Karik turned anguished eyes on him. “B-But the dr-drug...I t-took the dr-drug.”
“Vyoti says gerot is tasteless, more or less, and easily disguised. You could have accepted a beer, or a cup of wine, or even just eaten some soup with it in. A sweetmeat possibly. Something entirely innocent—and who would suspect such a thing could happen? I’m a lot more experienced than you, and even I wouldn’t have suspected someone was trying to drug me. Look at the number of times we’ve had food from strangers on this journey—any time we could have been drugged but we haven’t been and wouldn’t ever expect to be. No one thinks of such things. Stop punishing yourself.”
Karik seemed about to say something, but didn’t, just turning his face away, his expression becoming bleak. “I ha-have n-nightmares. O-Over and o-over. S-someone h-holding me d-down. Huh-hurting me. B-But I c-can’t see their f-face. I-If I c-could s-see their fuh-face, I wuh-would know and I wuh-wouldn’t b-be so s-scared.”
“Oh, Karik,” Jou said gently. “It must be awful, but you’re safe now. No one can hurt you here. Now we know such a thing can happen, we’re all looking out for each other. I personally won’t let anyone harm a hair on your head,” she added fiercely. “And you know I can beat any man on the team.”
“Except me, corporal.”
“Except you, yet, captain,” she said with a grin. It raised the briefest smile on Karik’s tired face. “You’re safe now, Karik. All you need to do is get better and then we can get out of this awful city.”
“At least we can once Wepizi’s done with his tasks,” Romi said quickly, not wanting Karik to get the idea he was the cause of the delay.
“That’s what I meant,” Jou said.
“D-Don’t huh-humour me,” Karik said quietly. “I kn-know you’re wuh-waiting for me.”
“No, we’re not,” Romi said. “Wepizi had already said he wished we had longer in Visiqe and he’s glad of the excuse. Everyone else needs the downtime too—it’s been a pissing hard four months, and a week here or there makes no difference to the mission. I don’t miss that damn tent, I can tell you. I was even wondering if we could split the thing up for this part, or even camp under the stars. Pali’s farts get a bit ripe sometimes.”
“Oh, gods, don’t mention those,” Jou said with a groan. “And it’s worse if he does the cooking. I have no idea why.”
“Well, maybe we can arrange things differently now the weather’s so much warmer. But my point is that this is a long mission, hard on everyone. So don’t be sorry if we use you as an excuse for a break—we all need it.”
Karik searched his face as if trying to find out if he was lying, but then seemed satisfied, because he nodded. “I’ll tr-try to g-get better.”
“Gods, no one thinks you’re malingering,” Romi said impatiently. “I thought you should have stayed in the infirmary a few more days.”
“D-Don’t l-like them.”
“Fair enough. Now, do you think you can get back to sleep? Are you sure you wouldn’t like a cot in an office? Just until you find your feet again.”
Karik wrapped his arms around himself and shook his head. “N-need to g-get u-used to it.”
“All right, I understand that. I’m the same.”
“Me too,” Jou said. “And you can come outside if you need the space. If you want company, just kick me.”
“Or me,” Romi said, though he doubted Karik would ever want his company. “Are you going to try to go to sleep again?”
“Y-Yes.”
He looked so miserable that Jou gave him an impulsive but still careful hug. “Sleep well, Karik,” she said kindly. “We’ll keep you safe, I swear on my mother’s life and the honour of my clan.”
He gave her a brief, grateful smile and then stood, glancing at Romi as he did. He walked back inside without another word, closing the door behind him with a quiet click.
“Oh, gods.”
Romi patted her shoulder. “That was well done, Jou. Thank you.”
She turned and gave him a filthy look. “You bastard, captain Romi.”
“Huh?”
“Why in hells didn’t you tell me everything? He’s been raped, hasn’t he?”
Romi shook his head. His people were just too damn smart. “It’s not something I wanted shouted across the yard, corporal.” She’d kept her voice very low, but it was the principle he was stating.
“I know that, captain—but it explains so much. If I’d known...that poor man. He’s trying so hard but he’s wound tight as a spring. I can’t imagine what it feels like not to know what happened, but to know that it did. I don’t know how to help him.”
“I think you did, despite that. Now you know, you know why this needs such careful handling. I don’t want this bandied about. Netu knows, I know, Wepizi knows. And that’s it. You saw him tonight—if he thought people were sniggering behind his back, it would kill him.”
“No one will hear it from me,” she declared stoutly. “But is he going to be able to travel?”
“I honestly don’t know. If it comes to it, and he’s not ready, then I guess I would have to order him back. But we’ve got a week—give him that. Be kind, let him talk, give him privacy. I think he can cope if he’s not pushed. But we need to keep Soza away from him.”
“Agreed. I was surprised he told us all that—I mean, that he told you too. No offence, Romi, but you and he don’t exactly get on.”
“This isn’t news, corporal,” Romi said dryly. “I’m not going to mention it unless he does. I suspect he’ll think he’s been three types of fool in the morning. But one more thing—now you know, you and Netu can both keep an eye on his health. He’s not fully healed—he should still be in the infirmary.”
“Yes, I know, but if a patient won’t stay, making them just defeats the purpose. I’ll watch him, and if anyone lays a finger on him, I’ll chop it off.”
Romi grinned at his subordinate. “You scare me sometimes, corporal Jou.”
“Good, that’s how it should be. ‘Night, captain.”
“‘Night, Jou. Thanks again.”
Staying Power: 21
Karik’s situation was the most delicate Romi had ever had to handle, and so he relied upon the advice of the older, wiser and more experienced
Wepizi to make sure that their injured comrade was protected and insulated without feeling smothered. It was arranged that one of the four of them always had Karik within earshot, if not actual eyesight, and Romi made it his personal business to know exactly where Karik was at all time. It wasn’t hard—the man didn’t seem inclined to leave the barracks, and spent most of the time in the small library, ostensibly reading, but most of the time staring into space, lost in what were clearly miserable thoughts.
Romi wished he had an answer for Karik. Not knowing ‘who’—and, more importantly, ‘why’—was torturing him, but Wepizi’s investigation had turned up nothing. Such crimes were among the most difficult to solve anyway, but since Karik was a stranger to the city and had no known associates among whom suspects might be found, even that slight thread of enquiry was stifled.
The one person whose behaviour seemed odd was the one person who really couldn’t have been behind it. Romi couldn’t even really say Soza was acting out of character—he was a cold, ruthless person, and since by all reports, he’d been received warmly at the academy, he clearly had no need to see to his injured lover. Romi wondered if Karik had outlived his usefulness to the man, and silently hoped this was the case. Even if it brought conflict on the journey, he now passionately wanted Karik to turn his loathsome lover aside. Life was too short to spend it in an unhappy relationship, and if Karik was happy with Soza, Romi was a jombeker.
He was sitting on the edge of the verandah, looking over some notes that Pali had made for him, relishing the warmth of the noonday sun—though the spring was well-advanced, the high thin air was cold, and it was only in direct sun that one ever felt really warm outdoors. Karik was in the library behind him, and Romi planned to go in soon to invite him to come to lunch. Karik’s appetite was something else that had taken a knock since the attack, though he would usually agree if someone reminded him to eat. It had been three days since he’d left the infirmary, and he was moving a little more easily, though he was as quiet and unwilling to be around people as ever. He was trying to act normally, and Romi admired the courage it took. Wepizi said it could take people years to get over something like this. Romi got the impression Karik wouldn’t allow himself to take that length of time.
Staying Power (Darshian Tales #3) Page 27