“Didn’t he?” Karik asked, his words bitter on his tongue.
“No, because we managed to become friends anyway. What he did to you makes no difference to me and I don’t think it will make a difference to anyone who matters. If anything, it’s shown me how strong you are. I know you’ll come through this.”
“I wish....”
“You wish...?”
“I wuh-wish I could rem-member...I can...almost...in my d-dreams, his face...but then s-sometimes it’s yours, or N-Netu’s.” He looked at Romi. “I wuh-won’t ever know, will I?”
Romi was regretful. “Probably not,” he said kindly. “From what Vyoti told me, you probably remember little bits and pieces, in a confused way, and that’s why you dream, but the real details will always be hidden. Tormenting yourself won’t make them come back. What good would it do if they did?”
“I....” He stopped. What indeed would be the good of knowing exactly how it felt to be violated in that way? “Wuh-what will we do about him?”
“As soon as we reach Tsikiugui, Wepizi can investigate, and once we get home to Darshian, I will do my very best to have him prosecuted—if not for this, then the landslide. Kizinke too, if we can. But...if he’s prosecuted, there will be a trial. Do you want that? You’d make a poor witness because of your amnesia, and...details would have to be given.”
Karik blanched. “No,” he said without stopping to think. “I c-can’t.”
“Then that’s that,” Romi said, still in the same kind tone. “If you ask me, there are other ways of making that bastard pay, and unless I misjudge your uncle Arman, I’d bet he could think of some very nasty ways indeed. But the best way to move on is to do that, Karik. Soza tried to drag you down. Just don’t let him.”
“I’ll try.”
“Good man. Now, let’s get that resin.”
His mind kept skittering away from the task onto his fragmented memories and dreams, and thinking of the harm Soza had managed to do even with a few well-placed lies. But whenever he felt he was losing himself, Romi would touch his arm, or ask a distracting question, even once or twice placing his hand on Karik’s shoulder and giving it a kindly squeeze. How did he know? But he was grateful for the rope Romi gave him to pull himself out of the hell of his misery.
The resin tap had provided a rich harvest, and Kepi and Taz had garnered enough grass to make a water bottle and at least one blanket. Romi set to making the blanket with Kepi’s help, while Karik wove the grass into a serviceable vessel which he would then caulk with the resin. Romi asked Taz to watch what Karik was doing and to learn—he was insistent that they all become proficient in anything the others could teach, and with that idea, Karik had no quarrel. Though the weather wasn’t cold, it was often wet at this time of year, and the wool and grass blankets would provide shelter if they were caught out in the open, especially if one side was waterproofed with resin. As it got colder, they would need to make coats out of hides for the two of them without cloaks. Even the little weti skin would serve its purpose, and so it was scraped, stretched and carefully smoked—supple leather had a multitude of uses and when they had so little, they could not afford to discard anything at this point.
There were a dozen things to be done, and it seemed to Karik that Romi was deliberately keeping up the pace, so no one had time to stop and become morose—least of all, him. He didn’t mind at all, though it was only distracting himself from the problem.
By nightfall, they had taken stock, and though Romi had suggested they could take another day, Taz and Kepi both felt they could move on. Karik agreed—they had probably exhausted the easy foraging in the immediate area, and even staying another day did not guarantee they would find more. They had food for three days, serviceable shelter, and enough water to last them two days at a pinch, though that was the least of their worries since there were numerous small streams and pools all through the region—the difficulty would be staying dry, not becoming dehydrated. “I’m proposing that we walk no more than six hours a day, and preferably five,” Romi said. “If we’ve got plenty of food and water, we can do more than that, but we’ll need a lot of fuel, and a lot of rest. Slow and steady will be better in the end, don’t you think?”
“Agreed,” Karik said. “If we had beasts, it would be different.”
“If we had beasts, we wouldn’t be in this pissing mess,” Taz said sardonically.
“Well, we don’t, so there’s no point in complaining,” Romi pointed out. “This isn’t going to be easy, gentlemen, and I fancy we’ll all be a little lighter by the time we reach Selnozi, but this can be done. The key is to be honest with each other—I don’t want to find anyone concealing an injury, or pushing themselves just to keep up when they’re exhausted. You can leave your manly pride right here, right now,” he said, tapping the ground with a stick for emphasis. “If you get a blister, we stop and treat it before it becomes a serious wound. Sprains, cuts, bruises—same thing. I don’t want any nasty surprises. We’ve got two months before there’s any risk of snow, and a good two or three weeks after that before it’ll become impossible to travel without assistance. By then we will be in Selnozi, I know it. We can afford to rest, to deal with big game or injuries. What will slow us down is neglect and stupidity. Each of you makes the survival of the others possible, I can’t say that often enough—so each of us has a duty to look after our own health, and that of the others. Karik, you’re our medic. You have absolute veto over us moving on, and you can order us to stop anytime. Is that clear?”
“Yes, I understand.”
“Good,” Romi said with a smile. “Karik’s Ma and his uncle are two of the finest healers in the land, so you lads are in good hands, having someone trained by them as your personal physician.”
“So if he’s our personal healer, can you be our welcome girl?” Kepi asked, fluttering his eyelashes in a ludicrous fashion, which make Taz snicker helplessly, and even Karik couldn’t resist a grin.
“Soldier, a good officer will sacrifice a lot for his men but...man, you snore. I could never do it,” Romi said in a mock-sorrowful fashion, then he clapped his friend on the shoulder. “But I’m more than happy to try and capture a hiqwiq, if you’re desperate.” Taz became uncontrollable at that point, and Karik had to slap him on the back to let him get his breath back. “Now, if you’re all finished disgracing the uniform, we should get some sleep.”
The other two began to deal with the fire and prepare everything for the night. Karik went with Romi to the latrine, using Romi’s fire sprite to guide his way. “Since I don’t have a uniform, does that mean I can disgrace myself anytime I want?” he asked as they relieved their bladders.
Romi did his trousers up and gave him an amused look. “If that makes you happy, you go ahead. Somehow, I can’t see it happening.”
“Why do they salute you? I mean, it’s just you and them.”
“Habit, partly. Also because discipline can save our lives and they know it. I like to think it’s a sign of mutual respect too. I’m not expecting you to do it.”
“Good,” Karik said. They began to walk back to the campsite. “But I guess you want to treat me the same as them.”
“I would anyway, and I expect you to continue to recognise my position. It was important before—it’s critical now. You know why.”
Karik did, and had no problem with it. “You’re good at this,” he said. “I trust you to get us home.”
Romi stopped dead and looked at him, a little open-mouthed in surprise. “That...is the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. Don’t prove me wrong.”
“I swear by my honour that I won’t. I promised your uncle Arman I’d get you home in one piece and I will.”
Karik was surprised how happy his simple declaration had made Romi—his previous snotty attitude must have really hurt, he realised, and he could only blame Soza for some of that. He’d just assumed that Romi had a hide like a tewi and didn’t care what Karik sa
id to him. It seemed the real arse all along had been himself, not Romi. And with that depressing thought, he crawled into the shelter and made himself comfortable for the night.
~~~~~~~~
He came awake with a sense of horror so profound that he literally could not breathe, though he could not even remember the nightmare that had brought it on. His limbs were paralysed, his lungs frozen—he could make not the slightest sound. I’m dying, and no one will know.
His mind seized by his fright, he could sense nothing around him but the thumping of his panicking heart—all he could think was that he couldn’t breathe and that death had come for him.
“Karik...Karik!” He was shaken roughly, then rolled on his back, his jaw held firmly. “Karik, wake up, you’re safe. You’re safe.”
He managed to force his eyes open. There was a flame just in front of him—it took a moment or two to realise what it was, and then that he was in fact breathing again in great painful gasps. The terrifying paralysis immediately became uncontrollable shivering, leaving him just as helpless as before. The flame moved, and then he found himself being held in a careful embrace. “You’re safe, calm down,” Romi whispered, right against his ear. “Just take it gently, Karik. This will pass.”
The soothing words at first had no effect as he shuddered so hard it actually hurt, but then the warmth of the other man’s body, the strength of his arms and Romi’s calm, even voice slowly helped the vicious tremors to ease, and he got his breathing a little under his control again. He felt sick to his stomach, and his head pounded from the fright. “I-I’m all r-right nuh-now.” His teeth chattered and he wondered if Romi could understand him between that and his stupid stutter.
“Yes, I’m sure you are. Just relax a little. Hold your breath, try not to breathe so fast. Concentrate on my hand.”
His....oh. Romi had trapped Karik’s fingers in his own big hand, warming them. Karik felt so cold. He did as Romi said, concentrating on the warmth of Romi’s hand on his own, the calluses against his skin, and as he did so, his breathing slowed even more.
“Better.” Romi’s voice was a low rumble in his chest. “Think you can sleep?”
“T-Try.”
“Good. Try to relax. I’ve got you.”
Karik expected Romi to release him now he was calm, but he didn’t. He kept his arm loosely around Karik as he settled down again, his hand still wrapped carefully around Karik’s. Karik thought about protesting that he was fine, then thought about what would happen if he had another night terror, and decided his manly pride was less important than a good night’s rest and the feeling of absolute safety that Romi somehow managed to give him. “Thank you,” he whispered.
“You’re welcome. Sleep well.”
And with that, feeling both foolish and less depressed, he managed to do just that.
~~~~~~~~
Romi lay stock still in the darkness, willing his rapidly beating heart to slow, and shamelessly holding onto Karik’s hand like a talisman. Gods—if he had not woken...if he had not realised Karik had stopped breathing and was choking...would Karik have died then? Would he have woken and found him a stone cold corpse, Romi having failed him just hours after Karik had so honestly expressed his trust?
He shivered at the thought. He’d never seen anything like it—the way Karik had been utterly paralysed, his mouth issuing the most ghastly sounds. And this was a night terror? Surely that was Romi’s fault, for forcing knowledge onto the man before he was ready for it, and in the worst possible circumstances. If Karik had died tonight, his death would have been on Romi’s head, no question.
He settled down, Karik’s body reassuringly warm and firm against him, and willing himself not to respond as he would instinctively, if it were Daiso. Too close...too damn close. He would not lose Karik to this. He was sure Soza’s motive for the rape—and he was damn certain Soza was the culprit now he looked on it with unblinkered vision—had been partly to do with getting back at Romi himself. It surely was no coincidence that it had occurred after Karik had thrown his support behind Romi’s decisions on the trail, and the possessive way the man had behaved at the academy.... Yes, it all fit.
Damn it! He should have told pissing Lord Arman where they could shove their useless team member. He’d known all along it had been a bad idea, and now four of his team had been badly hurt, all on account of this one man. That no one had died at the river was pure luck, because that had been a deliberate attempt at murder. Kizinke’s motives were less clear, but they had to have something to do with Soza. Romi was filled with a burning need to get back to Tsikiugui and bring the two of them to justice.
He rested his cheek against the back of Karik’s head, repressing a pang of loneliness as he remembered lying with Daiso just this way after making love. Kepi’s joke that afternoon had only been half in jest—they’d all been deprived of sexual comfort for such a long time, Kepi longer than most. His friend still deeply missed his faithless wife, and loved her despite the divorce. This time would put a great strain on him—a strain on them all.
At least—at last—the last shred of mistrust and hostility between him and Karik had gone, as he had wanted for weeks now. Months even. The more he’d seen of the essential decency of the man, the more it had grated that Karik despised him for his imaginary crimes. Now Karik had had the proof of his innocence, they could perhaps build a real friendship. Romi smiled ruefully to himself in the darkness. If someone had told him in Darshek that he would want to befriend their arrogant little Prij, he’d have laughed in their faces.
“I’ll get you home, Karik,” he whispered in a promise to his sleeping companion. He had made a vow to do so—and he always kept his promises.
Staying Power: 28
It was drizzling when Karik woke, but their shelter, the remains of the fire, and most important of all, Romi’s strong arm around him, meant he was still warm and dry—though he felt like a complete idiot. He had never had an experience like that before but he’d reacted like a child, letting Romi comfort him. But as he remembered the gentle kindness, he couldn’t help but be warmed inside too. It had been a generous act. If anything had justified his trust in their captain, that had—over the last few weeks, Karik had been forced repeatedly to expose his vulnerable underbelly, and not once had Romi used that against him. It wasn’t just the act of a good team leader, or officer—it had been the behaviour of a friend, yet again. And yet again, Karik reviewed the harsh things he had said and thought since they’d left Urshek, and cursed his childishness.
He eased himself out of the shelter, found one of the cloaks that was stored along side his sleeping team-mates, and set about getting the fire built up and water boiling. He decided the berries and some of the nuts would make a good breakfast—the smoked meat would be better later in the day when it might provide a morale boost as well as the energy.
“Ah, good man.” He looked up—Romi was sheltering under a blanket and smiling at him. “You slept well.” A statement, not a question.
“Yes. Sorry for the trouble I’m causing you.”
“All part of the service, and besides, it’s no trouble. Ready to start the tea?”
And with that, Romi elegantly dismissed his embarrassment, something else for which Karik was in his debt.
The drizzle stopped soon enough, but there was likely to be more rain. Karik was already making a little store of grease for renewing the waterproofing on their boots, keeping it in a small rough wooden bowl Kepi had quickly fashioned as they had sat eating supper the night before. But two of them had no cloaks—Romi had put small slits in the two blankets they had, to make them wearable, and the saddle blanket would cover one man’s head in a downpour. The other would have to make do with a makeshift hat made from the weti skin—Karik would need to weave a better one as soon as the materials became available.
They didn’t linger over breakfast. “Now, gentlemen, we’ve been used to the beasts doing the work for us, so I don’t want to push too hard today. Take it easy,
we’ll reassess at noon how things are going. Keep your eyes and ears open, and don’t forget to collect easy food. Karik, you’ve got the best eye, if you see something worth stopping to get, speak up.”
As they distributed the packs, Karik extracted his diary—it was only a month old, the previous one now on its way back to Tsikiugui with the others. “What are you going to do with that?” Romi asked.
“Leave it behind. We don’t need the weight.”
Romi asked for Karik to hand it to him, and then he hefted it. “I don’t think this will make any difference.” He leafed casually through the pages. “You’ve made a lot of notes—shame to lose them.”
“But—”
Romi handed it back to him. “Bring it. Be our chronicler. If anything were to happen to us, it would be our memorial. But when we get home safe, it can be a record of what we’ve achieved, for our families, and Darshian.” Karik’s eyebrows rose at the solemn pronouncement, but then Romi grinned. “Besides, we need some way of keeping track of time. We may as well mark in this book as on a bit of wood. If you don’t want the burden, I’ll carry it.” Karik said no, he’d manage, though he was rather bemused by Romi’s attitude.
Then they were on their way. Romi was right of course—they’d all become hardened over the course of the expedition, but letting a beast do the walking was different from using one’s own legs. The damp ground was unpleasant to cover, and intermittent showers made things miserable. The only blessing was that the terrain was flat, and likely to be all the way to Selnozi, provided they stayed close to the river. They had little choice about that anyway, not having maps—the river was the one sure geographic feature they could follow. Unfortunately, it meant a longer trip because the river meandered a bit, but if they got lost in this country, they’d end up dead.
Despite the weather and being unused to the walking, it wasn’t as hard as it could be. That was largely down to Romi keeping the pace deliberately gentle. Karik wondered aloud if he was making an accommodation for Karik’s shorter legs, which earned him a wry look. “No, oh proud healer—it’s so we don’t exhaust ourselves, and we have energy to keep an eye out for food. Tired men aren’t very observant, and I’d gladly sacrifice a mile or two a day if we can be sure of getting enough to eat.”
Staying Power (Darshian Tales #3) Page 39