“None of you, I am sorry, captain.”
Romi frowned. “Could you ask them again, please?”
Kizinke obeyed, but it was clear from the obdurate expressions that he had not succeeded. He shrugged. “I am sorry. They will not allow it.”
Romi turned to Wepizi. “What should we do?” He glanced at Karik, who, as yet, was too far away to hear what was going on. “I can’t send him alone,” he added in a low voice.
Wepizi tugged on his moustache. “Dare we risk Kizinke and Soza as well?”
Romi considered. Soza had moderated his behaviour quite considerably, and it seemed Kizinke was a good influence on him. But Karik.... “Let me ask.”
He turned his beast around and rode back to where Karik was waiting. “We have a problem,” he said, keeping his expression cheerful, since Soza was watching. “They won’t let us bring any soldiers in, not even Wepizi. That would leave you, Soza and Kizinke as the only ones who could go in. How do you feel about that?”
“Are you concerned on my account or his?”
“Both, but I don’t know how you feel about not having one of us with you.”
Karik stiffened. “I’m fine.”
Romi looked at him in exasperation. “Yes, I know. But are you up to this?”
“Yes. Are we going in or not?”
Stubborn little brat. “Yes, all right. But you come out as soon as you can, and no one is to stay overnight. Is that understood?”
“Of course.”
Soza was repulsively smug as Romi delivered the news. “I’m sure this will be a very successful visit, captain.”
“If it’s not, I’ll know who to blame, Soza. Go in, do what you have to, don’t get up anyone’s nose, and come out before dark. That’s an order.”
“Of course, captain,” he said in mock obsequiousness.
Soza was a waste of time, so he made sure Kizinke was also clear about the orders. Then he had little choice but to watch the civilians ride off with the three hunters, and wished he had more confidence that things would be all right.
He couldn’t relax at all, and by noon had given up all pretence that he wasn’t impatient for their return. Netu and Jou weren’t exactly concentrating on their tasks either, and while Wepizi was his usual serene self, once or twice Romi noticed him sending worried looks in the direction of the settlement.
The riders were spotted mid-afternoon, far earlier than Romi was expecting. Soza and Kizinke were leading, frowns on their faces, but it wasn’t them Romi was worried about. Karik was trailing behind them, sitting bolt upright in the saddle, his blank expression indicating something was badly amiss. Jou ran up to him to take his reins, but as soon as he dismounted, Karik said something to her which made her step back a little, and then he stalked off along the shoreline of the small lake near the camp, leaving the beast with her and ignoring her calls.
Pissing hells, Romi thought angrily, and went after the man, actually having to run to catch up with him. He found him standing at the far end of the lake, his fist clenched and his head thrown back, just as he had been the night he had fallen apart in the barracks. But this time, he turned to glare at Romi, colour high in his cheeks and his eyes stormy. “C-come to g-gloat, c-captain?”
The stutter was back—not a good sign. “Not at all. Do you want to tell me what happened?”
“N-nothing. You wuh-were r-right, I wuh-was w-wrong. E-end of story.” He walked away again, but only to fling himself down on a fallen log a little distance away. “I’m fuh-fine,” he snapped. “L-leave me a-alone.”
“I can’t,” Romi said as gently as he could, approached carefully, and then sat down cross-legged on the gravel near him. “You’re clearly not fine, and besides, you know we have a rule about no one leaving camp on their own. No exceptions—it’s too dangerous.”
Karik didn’t answer, and didn’t look at him. Instead he stared out over the water, his hands clenched as they rested on his thighs. Romi waited patiently, knowing how painful it must be to appear so weak in front of someone he despised. He wished he’d sent Wepizi after Karik now, but the man had run off so fast, Romi hadn’t thought. He certainly wouldn’t walk off from him now, and he would wait as long as it took.
Eventually, Karik rubbed his eyes and stood. “I sh-should go b-back.”
“Please—I need to know what went wrong. If it’s something we can do or not do, I need to know that.”
Karik shot him a hard look, but then sat down again. “It wuh-was n-nothing. I...I g-got s-startled wuh-when s-someone g-grabbed me. K-Kizinke m-must have t-told them wuh-why.”
“And?”
Karik’s jaw worked for a few moments. “A-and...th-the h-headman a-asked wuh-why I h-hadn’t f-fought back l-like a m-man. The wuh-women l-laughed.”
Gods. Romi guessed there had been more to it than that, but even that bare description was bad enough. “I’m sorry—I’ll speak to Kizinke.”
“B-because I’m s-so wuh-weak and p-pathetic.”
“No, Karik, because what he did was wrong, and violated your privacy. As it happens, I don’t think you’re pathetic or weak, but even if I did, he was out of line.”
But his answer was of little comfort to Karik, which didn’t surprise him. He could imagine how humiliating that situation had to have been, and couldn’t believe Kizinke had been so insensitive. “I sh-should h-have fuh-fought back.”
“Don’t be ridiculous.” Karik’s head snapped up. “It’s almost certain you didn’t even realise there was a situation to fight against until you were drugged. Gerot paralyses the muscles. Anyone—me, Wepizi, even your Pa who’s damn strong from what I can see—would have been as helpless as a baby. If you’d fought back, all that would have happened would have been you getting hurt even worse or killed. You’re not trained to fight, you’re not a large man, and if someone was that determined to attack you, they probably had weapons as well.”
“S-so I’m h-helpless.”
Romi shook his head and sighed. “Is that what I said? Look, you’re a naturalist, not a soldier. It makes my job easier that most of the population can’t put up a decent fight. Do you think being Prijian should give you some special powers? Were you born Gifted and I didn’t know it?” Karik looked away. “If this had happened to your Ma, or...or your daughter’s mother, say, would you think they were weak?”
“Th-they’re wuh-women.”
“Uh huh. So’s Jou—did you see her sparring with Wepizi the other day? Kicked his arse pretty well too. But if that doesn’t convince you, what about if it were Soza or Kei? Now Kei’s a tall, fit man, but not a fighter—someone who was determined could take him down in a minute. You’re not weak. Next thing you’ll be telling me is that you deserved to be raped.”
Karik shot him another look—this time, a little guiltily. “M-Maybe I ah....”
“Asked for it? Are you serious? What in hells could you possibly have done to deserve it?”
“I j-just l-look an e-easy target.”
“So? Does that mean people have a right to hurt you? To someone who likes to hurt others, anyone can look an easy target. If they’re using drugs, then physical size makes no difference. It could have been me, Jou, a child—anyone.” Romi looked at him seriously. “I know you’re rattled, but don’t go down that road.”
Karik didn’t seem convinced, but he didn’t look quite as tense as before. “I sh-should speak to K-Kizinke.”
“No, that’s my job.” As Karik began to bridle, Romi held his hand up to forestall him. “Wait. If this was the village, or a private argument, I’d say good luck to you. But it’s not—it’s a disciplinary matter, and potentially one which could cause conflict. Let me handle it—please. You’ve every right to be angry but this needs official handling.”
Karik nodded, and looked back over the lake. “I f-feel so c-close to rem-membering sometimes,” he murmured. “I d-dream.... But it m-makes no sense.”
“I wish I could help.”
Karik glared. “You! Y-you’re
so r-rude to me!”
Romi bit his lip, not wanting to laugh since it wasn’t a funny situation, but really, he sounded so indignant. “You’re pretty rude to me too, you know, but I bet if our situations were reversed, you’d want to help. You’re too decent not to. Anyway, whether you believe me or not, I really do wish there was something I could do.”
Karik just shrugged, and resumed his long stare over the water. Romi was content to wait for a while—sitting on the gravel wasn’t that comfortable, but it was a pleasant afternoon and the sun was warm on their faces. “My mother always said she wanted to find that flower just once before she died,” he said after a few minutes sitting in silence. “She’ll be delighted to know it’s real. I don’t suppose you feel like telling me how she could find it?”
Karik didn’t answer, and Romi thought his clumsy attempt at an apology for his behaviour a few days ago had missed its target. But finally Karik straightened up. “It’s only f-found in very poor s-soil, or even bare rock. It tends to c-colonise barren gr-ground, and then is p-pushed out by other plants. We’re not s-sure why. Kei is growing it in the ah-academy garden. It’s very pretty, but it m-makes a poor ornamental plant because it only g-grows where other things will not.”
“If I could bring it to Ma, or help her find it, I think she’d be grateful for ever. She loves flowers.”
“I could...maybe d-draw a map of where it’s likely to be found.”
“Would you do that for me?
“Of c-course not.”
“Oh thanks very much, Karik,” Romi said, pulling a face, but secretly pleased at the teasing. “Feel like going back now? We don’t have to.”
For an answer, Karik got to his feet and began to walk back. Romi followed without challenging him on his abrupt manner. He had no real idea how Karik must be feeling, and was prepared to cut him some slack. He wasn’t sure why Karik’s rudeness didn’t bother him when even Soza’s politeness made his teeth grate—it was probably because Karik’s anger and his reactions seemed honest, and Romi had yet to see him do anything malicious. Soza, on the other hand, made mischief for the fun of it, and Romi had always loathed people like that.
Jou was waiting for them—Romi would have bet money on the fact she’d been keeping a surreptitious watch on them the whole time—and approached Karik warily. Romi walked away and let them make their peace, which he was sure they would. Karik wouldn’t have meant to hurt her, he was certain. Right now, Romi had a fine haunch of Andonese arse to roast.
Soza was off somewhere—being eaten by a wild beast, Romi hoped. Kizinke was sharpening one of his several knives as Romi approached. “Ah, captain, I trust our young Karik is over his little upset?”
“If he is, that’s no thanks to you, Kizinke. Why did you feel it necessary to impart personal information about one of your team members to the tribe?”
Kizinke stopped work on his knife. “What are you implying, captain? I dislike the tone you’re adopting.”
“I dislike what you did. I’m implying nothing. You told the tribal people about the attack on Karik. Our team’s private matters are to stay just that—private.”
“No one told me his attack was a secret, captain. Of course I didn’t mention that it was of a sexual nature, but—”
“What? Who told you that?” Romi found himself looming over the man and made himself stop.
“One of the soldiers at the barracks. I asked him why Karik looked so nervous, and he told me. As I said, I didn’t know it was a secret.”
“Who was this who told you?”
Kizinke shrugged. “I don’t know the name. Someone I spoke to in passing.”
Romi nearly called him a liar on the spot, except he had no proof of it and it was barely possible Vyoti had let the information slip. He gritted his teeth. “Well, for future reference, this is not a matter of common knowledge, and not to be passed onto anyone else. I still would like to know why you did so today.”
“Karik caused us quite a bit of embarrassment with his childish reactions. We were on the verge of being thrown out of the camp, so I had to explain. I wasn’t aware you would prefer to jeopardise the mission to preserve the modesty of a junior team member. A Prij at that,” he added, spitting on the ground to punctuate his disdain.
Romi was holding onto his temper by a very short margin. “If the birthplace of any of our team causes you offence, friend Kizinke, I’m sure we can do without your services. If you decide to remain, then you will not repeat such remarks as you have just made about anyone, let alone Karik. As for jeopardising the mission—my people come first. If I have to avoid the tribes to keep them safe, I’ll do that. Humiliating them is not acceptable.”
“As you wish, captain. I merely sought to follow your requests. Now I understand them better,” he added with a low bow which might have been mocking, or merely an apology. Romi had a very strong urge to put his boot up this fellow’s arse and decided to retreat before he gave into it.
Wepizi and Taz were cleaning the birds Wepizi had killed for their supper. Romi dismissed his soldier so he could talk to Wepizi alone and tell him what had happened. Wepizi frowned angrily as Romi told him that someone in the barracks had apparently been loose-tongued. “I find it hard to believe any Andonese soldier could be so unkind,” he said. “But then I find Kizinke’s behaviour incomprehensible too.”
“That’s one word for it,” Romi said heavily. “Do you believe him when he said they refused to have any of us into the settlement?”
“I confess I have my doubts, but I don’t speak the tongue—I only know a few words. I’ve never heard of the tribes refusing our own soldiers before.”
“That’s what I would have thought. Wepizi, this needs to come from you. Let him know that if we’re not welcome, no one goes in. In future, I want him to stay well back and you do the talking first. We’ll call on him as a last, not a first resort. If that bastard Soza put him up to this, then that might put an end to any trickery.”
“I’ll do my best, my friend. And how is Karik?”
“He’s pulled himself back together, no thanks to Kizinke. He’ll be fine, but he’s not going in without Jou or Netu again. Soza obviously couldn’t be bothered protecting him.”
“Indeed not. The more I see of that man, the more I think Sephiz created him just to demonstrate how corrupting a lack of love in one’s heart can be. He serves no other purpose in a universe made by a benevolent god that I can discern.”
With which statement Romi heartily agreed. He wouldn’t be at all surprised to find Soza was behind Kizinke’s ‘translation’, but he would have to be careful in making any accusations. They were in the land of Kizinke’s people now, and he had real influence. He just hoped Wepizi could warn the man off without causing a major incident—but influence or not, Romi wouldn’t stand for him using Karik as sport. He only wished there was a way of replacing him with someone more trustworthy, but failing that, Romi would be on his guard. Karik would not be hurt in that manner again, if he had the least thing to say about it.
~~~~~~~~
That day in the remote mountain settlement was the day on which all the pleasure ran out of the expedition for Karik. Once they’d left Visiqe, with not having to be afraid of another random attack, and the kindness of his team mates, he had been able to put the assault behind him a little, though the oddest things kept bringing it to mind. Soza’s voice or presence seemed to be the worst, though anyone coming up behind him suddenly was likely to startle him unreasonably. But he’d really thought he was getting over it, until the day they had gone to that settlement.
He’d been uneasy anyway—something had felt very wrong about the way the tribal people had refused even their own country’s representative, which went against all the Andonese laws of hospitality. The settlement too had been very different from those he’d seen before—larger, more protected looking, less open and ramshackle, almost like a military camp. As they rode into the settlement, they’d been surrounded by dozens of large and unfr
iendly looking men, and it soon became obvious that his Prijian heritage was less cause for curiosity than outright derision. His attempts to break the ice had met with stony silence, and whatever Kizinke had said after that, made the lips of their audience curl with contempt. For the first time since they’d starting visiting the settlements, Karik felt afraid, and he very much wished Romi or Jou had been allowed to come with them. He hadn’t realised how much he had come to rely on the safety and protection they offered, until it seemed that protection might actually be needed.
Someone had grabbed his shoulder and he’d jerked away in shock. When someone else had taken hold of his braid at the root to tug it, he’d yelled in fright, whirling on the man and angrily telling him to stop. That had made the stony expressions turn ugly. Kizinke said something, and after a short exchange, the headman had come up, flipped Karik’s braid dismissively and told him that since he looked like a girl, obviously he could only behave like one. “Even our women would fight to defend their honour. You’re not a man,” he’d said, and turning his back on Karik, had walked away, with most of the men of the tribe following. Karik had stood rooted to the spot by humiliation, and even when it was clear Kizinke and Soza were to go with the headman, Karik was physically prevented from doing so. “You stay with the women, girl-child,” one of the hunters had said, shoving him back towards the snickering females.
And so he’d had to spend the day, not chatting about children and medicine and herbal cures as he had done in the low country, but being set to work like a criminal on punishment duty—grinding grain and washing clothes under the supercilious eye of someone he guessed was the headwoman. There was no friendliness about it—they had intended to drive home his lack of manliness, and though the chores were no different than those he would have done at home with his parents, the fact that the women saw it as mockery, made it so.
He hadn’t been treated with such contempt since he’d been a child, and could only deal with it as he had then, by retreating into silence and enduring. All he’d wanted when he’d got back to camp was to be left alone, but he’d reckoned without the dread captain Romi. If Karik had been prone to violence, he might have done the man some physical damage for not letting him work off his pain in private.
Staying Power (Darshian Tales #3) Page 31