Seeing Karik’s shoulders slump in depression, Romi fought the urge to hug him out of his sadness. It had to be faced—they all had to face it, unless Kepi and Taz really did move to Temshek. Perhaps it was just as well Karik realised it now, had a chance to accept it. Perhaps it was just as well that Karik lived too far away to be a real temptation.
It was an early start, but there was time for a good breakfast and farewells. Hanike had one last hurried consultation with Karik before bowing to him and wishing them a good journey. In deference to their condition, and Romi’s poor health, the Andonese generously provisioned the group heading to Selnozi, lending the four of them warm clothes, and taking more food with them than Romi suspected they would do otherwise. He had wanted to ride in the driver’s seat of the cart. Karik had vetoed that immediately. “In the back, captain,” he said sternly. “I want you to rest.”
“Karik, I’ll be fine....”
“In the back, Romi. Damn it, man—you get out of breath walking from one end of the settlement to another, you can’t sit up for hours in a driving seat!”
Geifeinu grinned at this, revealing his bad teeth. “You heard him, son of Darshian. Your Prijian wet-nurse wants her baby nice and safely tucked up.” Karik blushed, muttered something which sounded rather rude, and walked off to mount his doig. Naturally, he’d had no difficulty with the damn things at all, much to Taz’s disgust.
Romi resigned himself to being hauled around like a bean sack, and waited for the cart to have a bed of furs and blankets laid in it. He really didn’t think this would be all that more restful, but one didn’t argue with their ‘little Prij’ when he was in a mood.
The foul-breathed Geifeinu was not, to Romi’s relief—and he was sure, to that of the rest of his team—coming with them. Instead, another man and his son—Terinke and Tertonu—were to be their guides. Once Romi was settled in the cart and their supplies stowed, they were off, setting a rattling pace which made him grit his teeth. This was not going to be a comfortable journey.
The one supreme advantage of doigs over the longer-legged urs beasts was their immense stamina—they could sustain a steady speed of six or seven miles an hour for several hours at a time, provided they were then allowed to rest thoroughly at the end of each day, and feed. Terinke and his son had opted to cover as much ground in the early part of the day as they could, allowing the group and their mounts to rest in the afternoon. Romi had no quarrel with this plan, since he felt the jolting would hardly be less with slower travel and would last for longer, but it worried Karik, who kept bringing his mount close to the cart to peer at its passenger.
Finally Romi told him to stop and concentrate on his riding. “If you fall off and break your fair neck, I’ll have to explain how it happened to Lord Arman—and I’m in enough trouble as it is.”
Karik gave him a dirty look, whipped up his animal and trotted off to keep pace with Kepi and Taz, who had finally got the hang of riding the cursed doigs, and were clearly relishing the speed after so many weeks walking. Romi just gritted his teeth again and hung on to the cart’s side.
He felt giddy and unwell long before the planned stop just after noon, but was unwilling to call attention to it since they were making such good progress. Finally the cart was pulled to a halt by a small stream and a large stand of trees, a good place to make camp.
“Come on, my friend, time to get out,” Terinke said as his son jumped down to lower the steps. Romi nodded, and stood, preparing to move across the driving seat. As the world whited out, he dimly heard panicked shouts, and then....
~~~~~~~~
Karik was dismounting from his doig when he heard Terinke yell. He whipped around just in time to see Romi falling like a felled tree from the full height of the cart—he raced to catch him, but Terinke and Tertonu were ahead of him, breaking Romi’s fall and laying him in the dirt. “He collapsed,” Tertonu said, sounding rather stunned.
“He’s fainted,” Karik said, kneeling by his friend. Romi was very pale, but already rousing a little. “No, don’t get up. Kepi! Bring a canteen!”
Romi’s hand gripped Karik’s wrist, and the strength of the grasp was reassuring, though the dazed look in his eyes was not. “What...?”
“You fainted. Lie still. Kepi! Oh, thanks, Tertonu.” He accepted the water bottle and offered a little to Romi.
“Need to move—”
“You need to stay right there,” Karik ordered. He looked around for a likely spot. “Can we lift him—gently—over there? And get some blankets around him?”
Terinke quickly arranged things, and Romi was then carefully moved to rest under a tree. He still looked very grey and rather confused. Karik crouched by him and put his hand on his forehead—too cool—and his pulse was rather fast. He put another of the blankets around him, and cursed himself for not insisting they took it more slowly.
Kepi knelt down. “Romi? Is he all right, Karik?”
“He’ll be fine,” Karik said with more confidence than he felt. “The journey was a bit too much, that’s all. Romi, just rest there with Kepi for a few minutes. Kepi, don’t let him up.”
Kepi nodded, and took charge. Karik stood, and found Terinke watching proceedings with a worried and rather guilty look on his face. “Will he be all right?”
“Yes, I think so. He should rest, but he’s all right there for a while, until we get the tent up. Uh, but I think we need to go more slowly tomorrow.”
Terinke bowed. “I’m sorry, my friend. We made it as easy as we could. He didn’t object.”
“No, I know.” Stubborn arse. “Perhaps a little slower, and a break or two would be easiest on everyone. Kepi and Taz are still recovering their strength, as am I. We’re sorry to put you to this trouble.”
“No trouble, my friend. Deptonu wants us to get you there safe, and that’s what we will do. I hadn’t realised how ill he was.”
“He puts on a good act,” Karik said grimly. “But getting to Selnozi as fast as we can is important too.”
“We’ll make it in good time. Leave it to me,” Terinke said, clapping Karik’s shoulder, calling to his son and Taz so they could start dealing with the animals and then setting up the tent.
Romi already looked better, much more alert and sipping unaided from the water canteen when Karik returned to him. “Sorry,” he said, giving Karik a rueful smile.
“I should hope so too,” Karik snapped. “Why didn’t you tell someone you weren’t feeling well?”
“To what end?”
Karik started to make a smart retort, realised Romi was simply too exhausted to argue with, and gave up. “Oh, never mind. Kepi, stay with him.”
He started to stand, but stopped as Romi grabbed his wrist again. “I’m sorry,” Romi said, pleading for forgiveness with his eyes.
“It’s not really your fault,” he said gently, patting Romi’s hand. “Kepi, we won’t want to move him until the tent’s set up and we’ve got something hot for him.”
“He’s safe with me,” Kepi declared.
“Stop talking about me as if I’m not here,” Romi muttered.
Karik grinned at Kepi. “Oops.”
“Sorry, captain.”
Karik stopped grinning as he walked away and out of Romi’s line of sight. It had been over a month since Romi had been bitten by the marsh bug. Sometimes he seemed to be improving, but then something like this happened and Karik thought he was getting worse again. At times like this, he really wished he was a proper healer. Maybe if he were, he could move to south Darshian....
And there he went again, fantasising. He wasn’t even back in Darshian yet and he was already making plans to somehow.... What, Karik? Trail after Romi like a lovesick teenager? Leave his own family and all who loved him, to wander after a man who just saw him as a friend? That was idiotic. But even as he worked to make a shelter for Romi, and worried about his continued weakness, he couldn’t help but try and think of a way of avoiding the inevitable parting. Even if Romi didn’t see him as anything
but a brother, Karik couldn’t accept that they would just move back into their own lives and never meet again.
But he had to accept it. He had two months to get used to the idea, and then to say goodbye. He needed to damn well grow up. And wasn’t this exactly the reason he’d always said he had no time for romantic foolishness? It was a waste of time, mental energy and emotion, and in their situation, it was downright dangerous. Concentrate, he told himself sternly. The job wasn’t over, just as Romi said.
With that resolution firmly in hand, he forced himself not to sit at Romi’s side—after all, Kepi was a perfectly good nurse, and enjoyed Romi’s company every bit as much as Karik did—and went off with Taz and Tertonu to explore the local area, foraging a little, seeing if there were any plants of interest, and stretching legs unused to riding. He had always considered himself fit, and could keep up with many a man taller and better built than himself—but now he had legs like iron bands, and if there was an ounce of fat left on his frame, he’d be amazed. His Ma would have a fit at the sight of him, if she didn’t pass out from shock when he returned. They were all terribly thin, of course—Terinke and Tertonu, hardly overweight by any measure, looked plump and well fed next to the four of them. All in all, though, they were in better shape than they could have been—and Taz and Kepi were fast recovering condition, which was a relief. If only Romi would recover so fast.
He had been horribly selfish lately, monopolising Romi’s company under the pretext of attending to his physical needs, when it had been his own needs that he had been pandering to. It didn’t mean Karik had to stop looking after him. It just meant giving his other friends—who were, as Romi said himself, as close as brothers—more time with him. After all, they had paid a heavy price to make sure Romi was still alive.
Kepi and Taz took it for granted that Karik would sleep at Romi’s side as usual, and it would cause a fuss to argue about it, so he didn’t, telling himself firmly it was no different from sharing a bed with Gyo, or even his Pa. He didn’t even want to think about how different it might be to lie with a lover of his own. This strange guilty pleasure at feeling Romi’s body behind his own was as much as he was prepared to explore for now, and even this was wrong. Such a violation of his ethical duty as a healer—Kei would be so ashamed of him.
The tent fell silent, and it wasn’t long before gentle snores echoed faintly in the air. Annoyingly, Karik found he was wide-awake, recognising the familiar symptoms of insomnia brought on by unfamiliar surroundings. But he had to get some sleep.
“Karik?”
The soft whisper next to his ear startled him, until he realised it was just Romi—he’d thought the man had fallen asleep some time back. He rolled over very quietly. “What?”
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. Why are you awake?”
They were speaking so softly, their faces so close, Romi’s voice was little more than puffs of air on his cheek. “Are you angry with me?”
“No, of course not.”
“And you’re not upset about anything?”
“No. I just can’t sleep, that’s all.”
He heard a quiet grunt. “I promise I’ll tell you if I feel sick again. I’m sorry.”
“I’m not angry with you!”
There was a pregnant pause. “You sound it.”
“Oh, go to sleep.”
He felt his friend stiffen, and then Romi rolled over in the other direction. Karik didn’t move. He really had to resist the urge to cling to the man. It wasn’t healthy for either of them.
~~~~~~~~
“How can you get worse just lying in bed?” Karik said with a sigh, feeling his forehead and his pulse. “Do you feel sick or are you just tired?”
“Tired. Didn’t sleep well.” Was that a flash of guilt on his friend’s face? “I’ll be all right, if we take things a little easier today.”
“We certainly will,” Karik said firmly. “But more than that....” He went off to talk to Kepi.
Romi lay back, feeling useless and helpless and half-wishing Kepi hadn’t interrupted his grand gesture all those weeks ago. Even getting to Selnozi wouldn’t end this. They still had to get to Tsikiugui, and Terinke had told them there were really only two choices if he couldn’t ride—barge or wagon. The former would take six weeks or more, and might not be an option if the river froze early, while the latter would be at least a month of jolting before they got to Agen port, then they would have to catch a boat going east along the coast. Neither sounded very appealing. If he could just get on an urs beast, he was sure he would manage better.
“Right, captain,” Karik said, returning with Kepi at his side. “Meet your bodyguard. Kepi, you stick by him all day, and if he looks the least out of sorts, you call me over. Romi, don’t give him the trouble you gave me yesterday for trying to watch out for you—he’s much more likely to tie you up.”
“Karik, you don’t need to waste Kepi’s time this way—”
“Stop talking about me as if I’m not here,” Kepi retorted, grinning like a fool at the joke. “Come on, Romi, you and I never get a chance to talk these days.”
“And that’s absolutely true,” Karik said, fixing Romi with a hard look. “Besides, I want a chance to talk to Tertonu—he knows a lot about the plants of this area, and as you said, I’ve still got my work to do. I know we can’t do any collecting, but I can still make notes.”
“So there, captain,” Kepi said. “It’s all set.”
“Fine. Do as you wish,” Romi grumped. Karik just shook his head and walked off. “You don’t need to ride with me every minute, though. You can keep up with Taz.”
“Taz and I see each other all the time,” Kepi said, no longer smiling. “Karik reminded me that when we get to Darshian, I won’t see you again, possibly for years. Said he felt guilty for taking up all your time, lately, though it’s not his fault. But if you hate the idea, I’ll—”
“No, it’s fine. Karik’s right. Sorry. I’m just in a bad mood this morning.”
“I don’t mind. I’m just damn glad you’re here to be in a bad mood at all. But a mug of drizu and some porridge will help. Let me get it.”
As he watched Kepi wander off out of the tent to fetch his breakfast, Romi suddenly realised what was going on—the conversation he’d had with Karik, had hit home, and Karik was simply being as sensible and practical as he always was, far more sensible and practical than Romi was, certainly. He was doing exactly what Romi would want him to do, exactly what he should do. So why was Romi left feeling so bereft, like he was losing something precious that he should be fighting harder to keep? There was nothing to be done about the situation and they both knew it.
And whining about it was unbecoming of an officer and an adult, so he simply would not. He would be Karik’s friend until they parted, and then get on with his life. As would Karik.
Damn it.
Staying Power: 35
Selnozi was a town of only a thousand or so souls, Terinke said, lying widely scattered around a quiet reach of the Gavime river, a few miles above where it joined the Noru, one of the main routes for trade across this part of Andon. As soon as Tertonu spotted the first farm, Romi asked Kepi to call Karik over. “Something wrong?” Karik asked, bringing his doig in close.
“Yes. When we get into town, you stay by me no matter what. Where you go, we go, and vice versa.”
Karik’s eyes widened. “You think they might arrest me?”
Romi reached up and tugged Karik’s thick blond braid. “This really is the most inconvenient travel accessory. It’ll be fine—but don’t let them separate us.”
“We’ll look after you,” Kepi said. And he would—Kepi’s protective streak was as well developed as Karik’s.
Romi insisted on being allowed to ride into town on the driving seat, clinging to the outside next to Terinke and his son. The town was quiet, with no one rushing up to greet them as they did in Darshianese villages, or to defend themselves as in the settlements. Their arrival
caused no activity at all, though the people who looked and saw the braids, did stop for a moment or two to stare. Karik had covered his hair with his cloak hood—a wise precaution, Romi thought, and again wished he had not lost their travel credentials with his packs.
Terinke drove them to the barracks, a small establishment that looked as if it had been rebuilt in the last few years. He shouted casual greetings to the soldier at the guard post. “Got a few lost Darshianese for you. Figure you can take over now.”
Romi was helped down from the cart, and gathered his dignity—and his cloak—around him as he bowed to the guard. “Greetings, my friend. I am Captain Romi of the Darshianese army, and I need assistance.”
The fresh-faced soldier, who didn’t even look eighteen, did a double take, then bellowed for his companions. In a short space of time, their party, less the two Andonese who said they’d return later to discover their fate, was being escorted to the office of the senior officer, one Jiren Palanze—it was too small an outpost for a lep, and jiren was, so far as Romi understood it, only slightly senior to a captain in rank. The man seemed nonplussed at their arrival, but listened politely to Romi’s now well-practiced explanation. “You have no papers and no proof of your business at all, you say?”
“No, to my regret, I don’t. We lost almost everything in the landslide.”
The jiren grunted as he nodded, walking around them. “You—you with the hood. Please remove it.”
Romi moved closer as Karik reluctantly obeyed. The jiren turned to him. “Explain, captain. Why have you a Prij with you?”
“Karik’s not a Prij, jiren. He was adopted as a baby by a Darshianese couple and was raised as one of our own. He’s never lived in Kuprij.”
“And I don’t suppose you have any proof of that either.” That was addressed to Karik.
Staying Power (Darshian Tales #3) Page 47