Amidst the laughter, someone muttered a comment about a wet-nurse, which Karik didn’t quite catch, but Taz must have done because he gave the man a dirty look. Kepi laid his hand on Taz’s arm, preventing him from making any comment. Karik could guess what it had been about. His cheeks grew hot again, and he stared down at his mug. It was like being fifteen again.
The discussion continued until Romi let out an extravagant yawn. “My apologies, my friends. I have no stamina these days. Will you excuse me?”
“Of course. Sleep well.” Deptonu said, waving them off.
“Kepi? Taz? You’ll be all right?” Romi asked.
“We’re fine, captain,” Taz said.
“Wait, I’ll walk you out,” Kepi said, getting to his feet.
Someone handed them a small lantern—Romi had not revealed his gift so far as Karik knew, and perhaps it was wisest not to—and Kepi followed them out of the hut, taking Romi’s arm and drawing him aside. Karik moved back a little to allow the two men some privacy.
“Romi, I.... I’m sorry. For what I said this morning. I was just angry.”
“Yes, I know,” Romi said quietly. “It’s as much my fault as anyone’s—more, in fact. But you know, an officer’s authority can’t just be put aside when it’s inconvenient. It’s a serious thing, rejecting it.”
“Yes,” Kepi mumbled, scuffing his feet. “Are you going to put me on a charge?”
“Gods, man, are you serious? If anyone deserves to be on a charge, it’s me for dereliction. No, you’re not going on a charge. But I can’t let this happen again—it’s not a solution and you know it.”
“No, Romi. I know.”
“Good man. Now get some more rest—you need it as much as I do, and I’m telling you now, riding those pissing doigs is no fun. If you’re up to it tomorrow, get some practice—the saddles have got knobs on.”
“Yes, captain.” He straightened up and saluted. “Good night. ‘Night, Karik.”
Romi saluted in return, and Kepi wandered back inside Deptonu’s hut. Romi stared after him for a few moments. “I’m not fit to run a children’s picnic,” he muttered.
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Karik snapped. “How could anyone have done a better job than you have?”
“Lots could have, and have done. I dare say my final report will give my colonel plenty to complain about.”
“They better pin a pissing medal on you,” Karik said tartly.
Romi just raised an eyebrow. “Your uncles aren’t going to be happy with your new way of expressing yourself.”
“Fine—then when we finally get to see them again, they can tell me off. Can we get inside, please?”
Despite all the sleep that afternoon, Romi looked tired again, and Karik couldn’t help but worry that, if merely eating and talking had worn him out, what a jolting cart ride at speed would do to him. Once in their quarters, Romi set the lamp down, and then, to Karik’s surprise, slung an arm across his shoulders. “Why so worried now? Still annoyed about Deptonu’s stupid remark?”
Karik had almost forgotten it, but now his embarrassment returned. “I’m sorry they got the wrong impression.”
Romi grunted, and released him, sitting on the bed to pull his boots off. Karik did the same, not daring to look at his friend. “Blow the lamp out, will you?” Karik obeyed and Romi lit a fire sprite to replace the lamplight, then got comfortable under the blanket. Karik felt a little uneasy joining him the way he had that afternoon—it was one thing to have private conflicts about his feelings, quite another to have those feelings mocked by a total stranger, however unknowingly. “You know, you shouldn’t let Deptonu bother you. He’s just trying to be funny.”
“Well, he’s not,” Karik muttered, sitting on the bed. “I didn’t mean them to think I was your lover.”
“I really don’t care what they think. They don’t know either of us, and if they were prepared to consider you a spy because you’ve got blond hair, and exonerate you because you draw beetles and know your healing, then they’re not the most profound thinkers in the world, are they?” Romi fixed him with a look until Karik shook his head, smiling slightly at the foolishness of the situation. “Besides, if they think you’re my lover, let them.”
“I don’t want your reputation to suffer.”
Romi’s eyebrows raised in amusement. “I wasn’t aware my reputation couldn’t stand being accused of being sexually attractive.” Karik flushed and looked away. “I would never consider being thought to be your lover was the least bit shameful. I think many people would be flattered, in fact. I know I am.” Karik looked at him in shock at the compliment. “Can I ask a personal question?”
“What, this isn’t personal enough for you?”
Romi laughed. “Well.... I assumed, perhaps unwisely because of your daughter’s existence, you were experienced in love. But you’re not, are you?”
Karik shook his head, wondering if he could actually disappear into the floor with embarrassment. “I’ve never had a lover,” he said in a low voice. “Never slept with anyone...not, unless you count....”
“Which we don’t,” Romi said firmly. “But your daughter? I don’t understand.”
“My friend, Seiki—she’s a Gifted mind-speaker. Her lover, Mila, is a normal, which is so rare as to be almost unheard of in Darshek. It’s not among the minor gifted as you know, but with the truly Gifted, Kei says there are only two records of it in two hundred years. And no truly Gifted has ever raised a child—as a parent, I mean. They raise the abandoned ones all the time, but it’s not the same.” Romi nodded. “Anyway, Mila was desperate for a family, as was Seiki, so....”
“You helped them? Gods, if you’d heard how Soza had described the situation, you’d never recognise it from his words.” Romi’s voice dripped with disgust. “Er, how many times...?”
“Three.” Karik twisted his hands. “Uh, I didn’t really enjoy it much.”
“And apart from that?”
“No one.” He lifted his head. “I never really had the time. Now I don’t know if I will ever want to. Every time I think about Soza and what he did, I want to vomit.”
Romi patted the bed beside him. “Come lie down,” he said gently. Karik obeyed, feeling all kinds of a fool. “I’m sorry this is upsetting you.”
“It’s all right. It’s not like I shouldn’t try to get over it.”
“I think you’re doing amazingly well. It’s not really been very long, and it was about as nasty a crime as I’ve ever heard of. I’ve always admired how you’ve handled the whole thing.”
“R-Really?”
Romi’s eyes crinkled up in a smile. “Yes. Now don’t start getting anxious with me again. We’ve been through too much for that, don’t you think?”
“Yes, I suppose we have.”
“Yes. You, me, Kepi, Taz—it’s hard to think how any four people could be closer who weren’t related or in love. Now you know what we soldiers mean about being ‘brothers in arms’.”
“I’m not a soldier.”
“Doesn’t matter, Karik. You’re my brother, my ‘close friend’ as much as they are.”
“Oh.” Karik should have been pleased, he knew, but somehow Romi’s words were curiously disappointing. He realised he’d been hoping Romi thought of him rather differently, but it shouldn’t have been a surprise that he didn’t. It was something of a miracle that they had even become friends, after all. More was just being greedy. And also wrong, he told himself firmly.
Romi didn’t seem to notice his lack of enthusiasm. “So from one brother to another, I’m saying—you’re handling the attack well, and I think, when you’re ready and you find the right person, you’ll find a way to handle the intimacy thing. I’m not saying it won’t matter—of course it will. But I have faith in your ability to find an answer.” Romi gave Karik one of his most breathtakingly handsome smiles, the kind that always made him want to melt. “You know, this really isn’t the time or place to be worrying about it. Deptonu’s got a very strang
e sense of humour, if you ask me.”
Karik was glad to change the subject. “What you said earlier—do you really think Kizinke’s reputation extends so far?”
“I don’t know—I was never certain which tribe he came from. He must have been damn sure we were dead or he’d have come back to finish us off. I don’t want him finding out we’re alive until he can’t hurt any of us again. I’d love to know what lies he’s telling everyone to explain our demise.”
“People w-will think we’ve died,” Karik said, suddenly realising this. He wondered why it hadn’t occurred to him before that—too much else to worry about, he supposed. “Gods, my parents, K-Kei—”
Romi took his hand and squeezed it. “Concentrate on the task in hand. Until we get home, we can’t do anything about that, or Kizinke, or any of it. The job’s not over, not by a long way, so let’s not distract ourselves. As I recall, we’re still on a scientific mission. You’ve still got work to do.”
“And what are you going to do, oh leisured one?”
“Oh, I’m going to watch and enjoy myself,” Romi said, grinning. Karik couldn’t help but grin back—it was so good to see him smile these days. “Better. Now, sleep. Try not to fret. And remember, whatever friend Deptonu thinks or says, you’re a son of Darshian, and nothing will change that.” He put his arm around Karik. “Good night.”
The little flame sprite went out, and Karik got comfortable. “Good night. Thanks, Romi.”
“You’re always welcome, Karik. Sleep well.”
~~~~~~~~
A useful little trick Romi had learned early in his army days was how to feign sleep credibly. It came in handy now as Karik lay watching him, obviously waiting for his charge to go to sleep before he would allow himself to rest. Romi was tired but not that tired—being horizontal was all he needed to recover from the slight exertions of the evening, and his claiming weariness had been for Karik’s benefit, not his own. He carefully imitated the breathing patterns of a man drifting into deep sleep, and not long after, felt Karik’s own breathing deepen and slow. Only then could he relax and metaphorically slap himself on the forehead for being such a fool.
Pissing hells. Why hadn’t he realised Karik was, for all intents and purposes, a virgin? Certainly he’d been rather edgy about sexual topics since the rape but that had not surprised Romi in the least—he’d only begun to suspect there had to be more to it when he’d seen the brilliant scarlet Karik had turned at Deptonu’s tasteless teasing. What he had learned tonight had complicated things, and now he had to decide what to do.
First things first. It made the effect of Soza’s attack much worse. He’d assumed Karik had had some pleasant memories of sex to offset his nightmares, but now it seemed there was nothing at all to compare them with. Romi could only hope that Karik’s first true lover would help heal over those memories.
Which brought him to the second problem. In a perfect world, Romi would very much have liked to have been that first true lover. But in a perfect world, Romi would not be gifted, or a soldier, or Karik’s nominal superior. He would have to be insane to want to start anything with someone who had never even tasted a normal relationship, not after what had happened with Daiso, and Kera—or with Soza.
Which makes me insane, I guess. Why did Karik have to be so...Karik? He reminded Romi of the thoroughbred jesigs he’d seen in Utuk, all glossy looks and pride, but with hearts that didn’t know how to quit. That was Karik—a thoroughbred through and through, and the last person on earth Romi should be entertaining less than chaste ideas about. Karik saw Romi as a friend, and if he’d thought Romi was lusting after him, he wouldn’t have lain down so trustingly beside him, or be resting so peacefully now. The situation itself was another reason to put this nonsense firmly aside. They were living almost in each other’s clothing right now, and that was bound to distort things. It couldn’t last.
So, that was that. Wrong place, wrong time, wrong person, and if Romi were stupid enough to put himself in a position where he might break Karik’s heart, there was always the matter of his highly protective uncles to consider. He had to laugh—only that morning, he and his team had been staring almost certain doom in the face, and now he was fretting about his love life. Human beings really were the most ridiculous creatures. And with that thought, he shoved unattainable desires to the back of his thoughts and settled down to sleep for real.
Staying Power: 34
All things considered, Romi would be glad to get out of the settlement, though it wasn’t for want of gratitude, or because the Andonese were unpleasant. They were good people—a little clumsy perhaps in handling strangers, and Deptonu wasn’t the most charming headman they’d encountered—but there was nothing evil or wrong about them. Still, it was a strain, being around strangers, concealing the real truth of what had happened on their mission, and watching Karik face unceasing curiosity about his origins. That curiosity made people infringe his personal space a little too often, and though Karik tried to appear nonchalant, there were definite signs of tension after a prolonged session of questions with people pressing close to listen.
Other things brought stress too. Sitting in Hanike’s hut with a small group of women—Karik had made himself popular because of his medical knowledge—a mother handed Karik an infant to hold as she talked to him and the child reached up to tug on his braid, as children would do. He froze, his face stricken, answered whatever it was the mother wanted to know, then made an excuse to leave the hut, to relieve himself or so he’d said. Romi followed him outside, and found him staring into the distance, his eyes bright with tears.
“What’s wrong?”
Karik shook his head, then wiped his eyes hastily. “N-nothing.... Just...I miss Jes. She’ll be all grown up when we get home. If we get home.”
“We’ll get home,” Romi said firmly, laying his hand on Karik’s shoulder, giving it a squeeze. “Why don’t we find out how Kepi and Taz are getting on?”
Their teammates were being given lessons in doig riding, to the amusement of over a dozen idlers leaning on the wooden rails of the large pen and calling encouragement. It wasn’t hard to stay in the saddle, but the saddles were eccentrically designed, and, to Romi’s mind, unnecessarily uncomfortable. Doigs were bloody-minded creatures too, and prone to bite and buck if they took against you. Taz suffered the worst of it, as his animal simply refused to obey the smallest command—moving off as he tried to rein it in, and not budging at all when he kicked it to get it walking.
“Why does your Pa want to breed these pissing animals?” Romi murmured. “Ouch.” Taz’s doig had just given him a painful nip on the arse, which brought forth a roar of laughter from the onlookers. Taz wasn’t the greatest animal handler in the world anyway, but Romi half-suspected he’d been given a particularly surly beast to maximise the entertainment value. Very strange sense of humour these people had.
“Pa would love them,” Karik said, a wistful note in his voice. “He’d see them as a challenge. But they’d never last in Darshek—far too hot.”
“Up on the plain, they might. It’s not so humid.”
“I wish we could take a pair back. He’d really like that.”
“Maybe next time,” Romi said, before he remembered he might never be fit enough to go on another expedition. “Or I could ask Wepizi to arrange it—I’m sure he would.”
“That would be wonderful,” Karik said. “Right now, I don’t think I can contemplate coming back. I don’t think Ma would ever forgive me.”
“Missing them today, aren’t you?”
Karik turned to him, his eyes soulful. “I don’t know why it’s worse now, when we’re nearly home.”
“Because you’re daring to hope again. It’s natural. You’ll see them soon.”
“It’ll be at least two months,” Karik pointed out. “What about you? Do you miss your family?”
“Of course. I worry about Ma, if she’s had false reports of my death. Pa’s strong, but it’ll hurt him, I know. And there’s m
y brothers, my friends at Temshek and....” He stopped. Strange to think that not only would Dai be married by now, but also a father, if his wife had had her child successfully. He wondered if Daiso ever even thought about him these days.
“And?” Karik was looking at him curiously.
“And never mind. It’ll be good to be home.”
“Romi...I don’t think I’ll be returning to the south anytime soon. I was due to come home anyway, but with this thing with Soza....” He looked down at his feet. “It’ll feel strange to say goodbye to you all.”
“Ah. It’s the nature of soldiering, I’m afraid. Look at Kepi. I hadn’t seen him in two years before this. We’re still friends though.” Though Romi hadn’t heard about the divorce, and he could have been more assiduous in keeping up contact. No one ever did, though, in the army—they just assumed they’d hear the news, or run into one another again. Soldiers weren’t really much for letter writing. “I’m sure once you’re settled back in Darshek, you’ll be so busy you won’t ever think of us.”
That got him an astonishingly fierce look. “I will always think of you,” Karik said, eyes flashing with anger. “I could never forget any of this, or any of you. How could you think that?”
“Calm down. I just meant that this is an artificial situation, where we don’t have much to think about except each other and surviving. When we’re back home, we’ll be caught up in day-to-day things. You know we can’t live like this forever. At some point, we have to get back to our real lives.”
Karik stared at him, searching his face for answers Romi didn’t have, then he turned away without another word. Romi felt bad about having said it, but it was the truth—the real world was a place where he and Karik lived at opposite ends of the country, did very different jobs and moved in very different spheres. He could promise to write, but what would be the point? Letters were such an inadequate way to communicate, and a poor substitute for the kind of sparky conversation he was used to having with this man. Somehow, he couldn’t see them having much of a relationship by mail.
Staying Power (Darshian Tales #3) Page 46