But the dread captain surprised him yet again, and while Karik still wished it had been anyone but Romi who had come after him, he couldn’t fault the man for the kind way he’d handled things, nor the wisdom of his words. No, it wasn’t Romi’s fault Karik now just wanted the expedition to be over, and seriously doubted that he’d ever want to travel to Andon again.
It wasn’t Soza’s fault either. He had far less time for Karik these days, which Karik didn’t mind, since he couldn’t seem to get his subconscious to forget the unfortunate business at the academy. Seeing Soza reminded Karik of what had happened in Visiqe, and he was cowardly enough to be glad that Soza was often too busy to talk to him. Karik didn’t like Kizinke, hadn’t done even before the incident at the settlement, but he didn’t begrudge Soza his friend since his new friendship with Kizinke seemed to be the key, finally, to his understanding how to work harmoniously with the team.
The problem was in Karik himself. He couldn’t put what had happened at the settlement out of his mind, and every time he thought about it, he thought about the attack—or rather, what he didn’t know about the attack. Gnawing over it made him short-tempered and sleepless, and even his close friends like Jou gave him a wide berth. Wepizi respected his expressed wish to be left alone, and the others were too busy with their own work to pay too much attention to him though he was aware of their friendly concern. Romi was driving him insane, so no change there. The lieutenant’s strange standoffishness was so inconsistent Karik couldn’t made sense of it, and would rather have been snubbed completely than endure this on-off friendliness. He would never understand the damn man or his actions, and wouldn’t put himself out to try.
After that first disastrous contact, Karik never actually made it into another settlement. The reasons differed—twice, the soldiers were allowed in, but Karik was not. In another, no soldiers were allowed, though the naturalists were grudgingly welcome, so Romi had politely declined the invitation. And on the last, most humiliating occasion, no restrictions at all had been placed, but as they prepared to ride in, Karik lost his nerve, quite suddenly and unexpectedly. He dismounted and thrust the reins of his beast at a startled Reisa, before walking off towards the river, trembling and unable to speak for the sudden terror that had come over him.
He’d expected someone to come after him and ask what the hell had just happened, but to his surprise and considerable relief, no one did for at least an hour. By then, he’d stopped shaking and wanting to puke, and instead just wished he could die to avoid the humiliation of it all. What in hells was wrong with him?
He heard footsteps and turned. Romi. Of course it was Romi. “I’m f-fine,” he said dully to ward off the expected concern.
“Yes, I bet. Here.” He had to be quick to catch the knife Romi tossed to him. “Walk with me.”
He blinked, and then had to hasten to catch up as Romi didn’t wait for him, instead walking away through the trees back towards a small clearing, where a recent storm had brought down two trees, now pilfered by their team for firewood. “Right, Karik. Come at me with that.”
“W-what?”
“Come at me with that knife.”
“D-Don’t—” He had to dodge quickly as Romi suddenly lunged at him with his own blade. “R-Romi!”
“Move, damn you! Come at me, you little Prijian weakling! Come on, you pathetic little shit!” Romi launched himself at Karik—instinctively Karik shoved Romi’s knife arm away as he got clear. “Do that again. Come on, I’m not going to wait for you. Do it! Move, Karik! Come on, you pathetic girl, you coward! If I get hold of you, I’ll use you like the woman you are!”
Had he gone mad? Karik felt his anger rising, and as he ducked away from yet another deadly lunge, he threw a punch, which actually landed on Romi’s cheek. “Again,” Romi growled. “Do it, you snivelling shit!”
Romi gave him no room to retreat, his blade coming again and again at Karik, but Karik refused to use his own weapon, throwing it away before he tried to grab Romi’s arm. Gods, the man was fast, and so strong. Any grip Karik could get on him was broken instantly, and any blows he could land were glancing. All the time, Romi was goading him, spewing out insults, making him angrier and angrier until he couldn’t contain it, roaring his rage, and throwing himself at the man to make him shut up.
It was a farce, of course. Romi couldn’t be touched, and when he was done toying with him, he got Karik into a headlock and forced him to the ground, face down. “Let me go,” Karik whispered, now truly afraid and beginning to panic.
“Are you angry, Karik?”
“Yes. Please—”
“Are you afraid?”
“Yes.”
“Then fight!”
Panic-stricken, Karik heaved, and to his utter astonishment, actually managed to push Romi off him. As soon as he did, he threw a punch at Romi’s jaw. “You bastard! Leave me alone! I won’t let you do that again, I won’t let you!” He threw another punch, again and again, real, bruising blows to Romi’s face and shoulders, but Romi let him, lying passively while Karik vented his rage and fear on him.
Finally, with his face bruised and his lip cut in two places, Romi stopped him by trapping his fist. “Enough now,” he said gently.
Karik fell back, chest heaving with his exertions and the end of his emotion, then looked at what he’d done in horror, surveying his own reddened knuckles and Romi’s battered face. “Oh...gods. Romi, I’m—”
“Don’t apologise, Karik. Just sit still, and let your breathing calm down. It’s all right, I promise you.”
Karik felt like crying—he had been so pumped up, and then he’d done this awful thing. “Why?”
“In a minute. Take a deep breath, and hold it. Now release.” Romi kept repeating the instructions until Karik felt his heart slowing, and his breathing come back to something like normal. “Feeling better now?”
“I hurt you.”
“Don’t flatter yourself. Are you feeling better now? Heart racing any more?” Karik shook his head. “Good.” He pulled out his handkerchief to wipe the blood off his face. Karik winced at the sight. “Sorry about that—it was the only thing I could think of to let you get some of this out.”
“Why? Why did you let me hurt you?”
“Because you needed to hurt someone other than yourself, be angry at someone other than you. I’ve watched you get more and more tightly wound, turning your rage and pain against yourself, and today was the end result.”
“I....” He felt cold, and rubbed his arms. “I just...couldn’t.”
“I know, and then you went off and blamed yourself again. I thought you might like to express a little of that anger instead of making yourself sick with it.”
“But your face....”
Romi grinned. “Gods, Karik, Jou does worse than that. I won’t say you hit like a girl, because you don’t hit anything like as hard as she does. Did it feel good?”
“Yes...no.... Romi, I don’t want to use violence as an answer.”
“I don’t want you to either, but I’m not suggesting it as a permanent solution. The person you really want to hurt, isn’t here, and won’t ever be. You need to find a way to release your anger instead of beating yourself up. This is all I could think of,” he said with a shrug. “Not very elegant, but I think you feel a little better for it, don’t you?”
“A bit,” Karik admitted. “But...don’t give me a knife and let me use it. I could have hurt you by accident. I know what it’s like to be stabbed—I don’t want to do that to someone else.”
“Stabbed? That’s how...?” He gestured at his stomach and Karik nodded. “What happened?”
“It was five, nearly six years ago—uncle Arman was attacked by someone who had a grudge against him from the war, and I stepped in front of the man’s knife. Got me here and here,” he said, indicating the places and rubbing them in sympathetic memory. “I nearly died.”
Romi whistled in awe. “That was you? I heard about that—everyone did. It’s not every d
ay someone tries to kill a Ruler. That was pretty brave of you.”
“Pretty stupid, actually, but at least he didn’t kill Arman, poor sod.”
“Poor...?”
“Um...it was complicated. But anyway, I don’t like knives.”
“I understand—sorry. I just thought it would make it feel more real so you’d fight back. I, uh, didn’t mean all that shit I said.”
“You don’t want to use me like a woman?”
To his surprise and amusement—now he was calmer, he could laugh at the situation a little—Romi flushed. “I was just throwing anything out, trying to get you mad. It worked, didn’t it?”
“You don’t have to work that hard to get me angry, captain.”
Romi laughed. “Probably not. How do you feel, really?”
Karik considered. He was still a little shaky, but that was from being so pumped up, not fear, and the tight knot in his chest had gone. So had the dull headache that had been his constant companion for the last four weeks. “Better. But we’re not doing this again,” he said firmly. Romi’s cheek was already puffing up a little.
“Not exactly like this, no, because you’re right—you could hurt me by accident, or yourself. But I think a little intense physical exercise might help—I could ask Jou to let you spar with her, and teach you some self-defence, but I think it might do you some good if you took on someone who’s bigger and more intimidating. Me, Wepizi, Reisa maybe. You’re not going to become a great fighter, but it might let you feel less helpless. Might make you less jittery about being touched too.”
“It’s so stupid—my family, my friends, touch me all the time, and now I just jump.”
Romi tapped his temple. “Because up here, you’re always waiting for an attack, and you’re on alert. The problem with that is that you can’t keep it up—you get tired, you can’t sleep, and you can’t tell the difference between what’s a threat and what’s not. We have to deal with this. It’s affecting you but also the rest of the team. People are worried about you.”
“Sorry.”
“Don’t be a fool—you know it’s not your fault.” He got to his feet. “Come on back to the river, I want to put some cold water on these.”
“I thought you said I hadn’t hurt you.”
“Doesn’t mean it doesn’t sting and I’ve got my handsome face to preserve.” Karik gave him a disbelieving look and Romi grinned. “Come on. We’ve got the camp to ourselves since everyone is out. We can do some work and then I can give you a couple of basic lessons in how to protect yourself.”
It was a quiet, pleasant day, doing minor repairs and chores in the empty camp, collecting firewood, herbs and fungi for supper, and not talking about the attack, or Karik’s panic, or anything remotely unpleasant at all. Instead, they spoke of mundane things, non-threatening things like the worst food Romi had ever eaten on a dare, how Karik had discovered a better way to cook oroj crickets, whether a crossbow or a slingshot was best for hunting hisks and so on. It was a little like spending time with his Pa, and in his heart, he thanked Romi for this precious gift of dignity and peace.
“I was thinking,” Romi said as they sat together preparing a big pot of stew for when the others returned. “It might be best to say now that you don’t go into the settlements any more. These bastards are just too touchy and I’m sick of them using your hair colour as an excuse to be rude to us. I’d prefer to avoid them altogether, but if we can cut down all these damn negotiations, it’ll make things less stressful all round.” He tossed the fungi he’d been cleaning into the pot where Karik was browning the other vegetables. “Will you be offended if I make that official?”
“No. There’s still lots to do anyway.”
“Good, I hoped that was the case. I think you said this was one of the most important parts of the expedition, didn’t you?”
“Yes. Mount Arzha’s vegetation is unique. You must have noticed that even now, the plants look very different from what we were passing through two weeks ago.”
“Well, I thought it was, but I wasn’t sure,” he said with a self-deprecatory smile. “You’re the expert, not me.”
“You should learn to trust your eye, Romi. Maybe you should come collecting with me, instead of Matu.”
“You know, I might just do that. Would you mind if I did?”
“No. I can always use another pack animal.” Romi just grinned. “Now is when our specimens could be the most use to the academy.”
“The seeds?”
“And the fruit, yes. I’m a bit worried the beasts will be overloaded. We’re starting to pack ten pounds a day and that’s only going to get worse.”
Romi considered the point as he began to peel a tuber. “We’ll keep an eye on it—only another month to go though. If we have to, we could send some of our people back early, or maybe stash packs for collection. You just get the seeds, I’ll make sure they get back to Darshian.”
As the collecting teams drifted back in, Romi’s battered face got some odd looks. Soza was very put out to see Karik sitting so peacefully with the hated lieutenant. “Did you have a good day?” Karik asked him politely.
“Yes, indeed. I trust you’re feeling better? I hope you’ll get over these odd spells soon, Karik, it’s rather embarrassing to explain.”
Karik flushed at the rank insensitivity and implied scorn of Soza’s words. “You won’t have to concern yourself with it any further, Soza. Since you’re proving so adequate,” Romi said with bland politeness and only the barest emphasis on the last word, “at handling the settlement visits, I’ve decided Karik can take charge of the plant collecting in your place. After all, in such an important region, we need the best person for the job, don’t you think?”
Soza gave him an evil look and stalked off, presumably to complain to his new best friend about the treatment he’d just received. Karik turned to Romi. “You’re horrible,” he said, though without heat. Soza had deserved all that, and more.
“I am when I want to be. Does it need more salt, do you think?”
The stew was pronounced delicious by the hungry crew, and to his relief, no one else was tactless enough to comment on Karik suddenly absenting himself from the day’s activities. As people sipped their tea, Romi spoke to Jou. “We’re getting slack, don’t you think, corporal? If young Karik can kick my arse in a spar?”
“Karik did that?” She whistled and gave Karik a mock-admiring look. “Dereliction of duty, straight up, captain. I should put myself on a discipline if I were you.”
“Fortunately for me, you’re not,” Romi said, grinning. “But seriously, now the evenings are so long, how about we run some sessions? Anyone else interested?” There was a general show of hands. “Fine. Jou, you can run it tonight. Karik, you can come along if you’d like,” he added casually. “Open to all,” he said in a louder voice, designed to carry to Soza and Kizinke sitting a little way off.
“Thank you, no, captain,” Kizinke said with a bow. “My knee gives me trouble.”
“Up to you,” Romi said, obviously not crushed. “Everyone done? Then let’s set up.”
Karik trailed along behind the others, not at all certain that trained soldiers wanted to have a completely inexperienced civilian participating. He needn’t have worried. Taz invited him to sit next to him as Jou, Wepizi and Romi marked out the area in which the sparring would occur. “This’ll be good,” Taz whispered to him. “You’ve got three of the best fighters I’ve ever seen, right there.”
“Really?”
“Oh yes. Romi’s a natural, but I’ve never seen a female fighter as good as Jou, and she’s taught me a few things. Wepizi’s just out and out sneaky. I’m hoping to pick up some tips.”
Knowing he wasn’t the only one who’d be learning, took away a little of his nervousness, so Karik settled down to watch. Of course, even before the expedition he’d seen soldiers spar—Arman and Tiko worked out regularly and Arman had invited Karik along occasionally to watch—but he’d never really had much interest
in it, seeing it as a rather brutish and pointless activity. In ten minutes, Romi and Wepizi proved what a fool Karik had been to be so disdainful. It reminded him of the time Mila had taken him to see the dancers practicing at the theatre—there was so much contained power and the same perfect control in the way Romi and Wepizi moved around and grappled with each other, as those dancers had displayed. Romi had the edge over Wepizi for weight, Wepizi for height, but in skill, there seemed little to choose between them. There was even a beauty to it, though Karik found it strange to admit that to himself.
But this was just for display. Now Romi and Jou were demonstrating specific holds and throws, and calling team mates up to try their luck. “Karik? Fancy a turn?” Jou called after Kepi had dusted himself off.
“Me?”
“Sure. This is something anyone can do, and it doesn’t matter how big or tall you are. You know what they say about size anyway,” she added with a sly grin.
Karik hesitated, but Wepizi gave him a reassuring smile. “You’ll be fine, my friend. Go on.”
He drew himself up and forced himself to walk confidently over to Jou. “All right, Karik, I’m going to hold you from behind. I won’t hurt you and you won’t hurt me.”
As she moved behind him, Karik couldn’t help stiffening a little in apprehension. Then he saw Romi watching him. The captain gave him a surreptitious thumbs up, and that was enough to help Karik relax.
“Now, Karik, throw me over your shoulder.”
“What?”
“Go on, give it your all.”
Of course he had no success at all—she could have been made of granite and anchored to the ground for all the movement he got. “You ate too much stew,” he said, panting, and the watching soldiers laughed.
So did she. “I might have, but it’s because you’re doing it wrong. Romi? May I toss you?”
“You can try,” Romi said dryly.
Karik stepped back, and then Romi came to stand behind Jou. It was pretty obvious he wasn’t making it easy for her, but in under a minute, she had thrown him to the ground, for all he outweighed her by a good sixty pounds. She wasn’t even breathing heavily. “How...?” he asked incredulously.
Staying Power (Darshian Tales #3) Page 32