Karik could only look at him, wishing he could be perfect, and brave, and unbroken for this gorgeous man with the wonderful eyes and those clever, tender lips. “What if I d-don’t get better?” he whispered.
“Then we find another way around things,” Romi said. “You keep telling me it will take time. So follow your own advice.”
Karik stared at him. “But if we have to part...what if we never...?”
“You don’t think you have enough to worry about?”
“But I want to.”
“Part of you does, yes. Part of me does too—a very persistent part of me, I have to say,” Romi added with a grin and a quick glance downwards that made Karik follow his gaze, and then blush red hot as he understood. “But when I make love to you for the first time, I want it to be in a proper bed with lots of room.”
That ‘when’ was both terrifying and wonderful to Karik. “I won’t let him beat me.”
“He won’t,” Romi said, then kissed him again. At that moment, Karik could almost believe him.
~~~~~~~~
The days went past with terrifying speed. They spoke little of what might happen when they got to Darshek, since they both knew the reality. Romi, like Karik, was happy to live in the moment, exploring each other and being together—but Karik knew it was only a matter of time before hard choices would have to be made.
On the last day of the journey, he called constantly in his mind to Neka and Seiki, wondering if they would hear him at all if they thought he was dead. It wasn’t until he was eating lunch, sitting on deck with Romi at his side, relishing the warmer air that now blew from the southern seas—the snow and freezing temperatures of Andon now just a memory—that there was suddenly an excited shriek in his ‘inner ear’. “Karik! Blessed gods! Are you real?”
“Neka! Yes, I’m real.”
“We were told you were dead—everyone’s been in mourning for you! Reis has been distraught—no one knows what to do with him. What happened?”
“I’ll tell you when I get into harbour, which should be in about four hours. Neka, please, can you tell my parents? And Kei and Arman and Seiki, and everyone? I don’t want them to die of shock.”
“Of course I will. But are you truly well? I can’t believe...oh, Karik, darling, we cried so hard for you.”
“I’m sorry, Neka. There wasn’t much I could do about it where I was, except come back as fast as I could. Will you tell Ma?”
“This very instant. Oh, gods, when I tell people, they’ll be so happy! Back soon, dear.”
Karik grinned and looked at Romi who was watching him closely. “Neka—she’ll tell everyone. Oh—I forgot to mention your parents!”
“When we get into port will be soon enough,” Romi said. “I take it she was happy to know you’re alive?”
“Thrilled. It might get a bit overwhelming when we arrive,” he added, hastily counting up the people who might just decide to turn up at the docks to meet them.
“I’m a Darshianese soldier, I’ll cope. Nearly there. Gods, I want to be on solid ground.”
“I...don’t. Well, I do and I don’t,” Karik said. Romi cocked his head questioningly. “Being with you, just the two of us...I’ve been so happy.”
Romi put his arm around Karik and kissed his temple. “Me too,” he said quietly. “But it doesn’t mean we can’t be happy when we get on shore.”
“Things will change.”
Romi made Karik look right at him. “Things always change,” he said. “Very often for the better.” He laid his cheek against Karik’s. “Standing still just isn’t an option.”
“I know,” Karik said with a sigh. He jumped as a new voice suddenly entered his head.
“Karik!”
“Ma! Gods, Ma!”
And then she was right ‘there’, thanks to Neka’s powers—looking bewildered and happy and so...Ma. “You better really be alive, young man!”
“I really am, Ma. It was all a lie, what those people said. I wasn’t even close to dying. Is Pa there?”
“Right here, son. Are you really all right? Not injured?”
“Not a scratch, Pa, honest. Romi got us all home safe, but he got hurt himself.”
“Romi...? Ah, the lieutenant? He’s all right?”
“He’s here—look.” He turned so they could ‘see’ him—Romi smiled politely. “Oh Pa, Ma, I’m sorry you had the worry.” His mother looked old—they both did. Older and tired. “Are you both all right?”
“Now we are, son. When are you coming home?”
“Not for a few days—Romi needs to be treated at the infirmary, and we’ve been travelling so long, I’m exhausted.”
‘Then I’m coming to Darshek, soon as the rains stop,” his father said, and Karik knew better than to argue with him when he adopted that tone. “Gods, Karik, we had a death ceremony for you. I can’t...I really can’t believe you’re alive and well.” There were tears in Pa’s eyes now.
“I’m sorry, Pa. I really am alive, I swear. I’ve got so much to tell you, and I want to know all your news.”
“Nothing much to tell, son. Risa and Keran had a little boy, who’s doing well. Gyo and Meran were betrothed but they...uh...well, after we got the news, they put things off for a bit. Gyo’s heartbroken. So’s Meran—Keiji doesn’t know what to do with himself either.”
“Oh.” Karik looked at Romi, who squeezed his hand. “Will you tell everyone?”
“Are you joking, lad? Fedor will call a meeting in five minutes—there’ll be a party going on in an hour. I’ll bring you some cakes.”
Karik grinned. “You better, Pa.”
He couldn’t help but notice, while he and his Pa talked and Karik briefly explained what had happened and why their deaths had been falsely reported, that his mother had retreated to the background, which was most unlike her. He couldn’t exactly ask Pa if anything was wrong, so he hoped Neka could tell him. He hoped it was just shock over his miraculous return, but he got the feeling it was something else.
He and his Pa talked for half an hour or more, but Romi indicated he needed to move, and Karik felt he had monopolised Neka’s time long enough. “I’ll speak to you soon, Pa.”
“Can you manage not to die or be stabbed or be kidnapped until I see you again? You’re taking years off my life every time something like this happens. I feel older than Fedor these days.”
“I’m sorry, Pa. Ma? Will you come to Darshek too?”
“Probably not, Karik, dear. But you come home to me, do you hear?”
“Yes, Ma. I love you.”
“Oh...Karik.... I have to go.” And the connection was suddenly closed, Karik only getting a hint of the fact his Ma had started to cry.
Romi looked at him, clearly waiting for him to explain. “She’s really upset. This has really hurt her,” Karik said, shocked at the change he’d seen, and puzzled as to why, when he was back safe, she still seemed so grief-stricken.
“It’s bound to have done,” Romi said. “But at least you’ve come back. It could so easily have been a true report.”
“I know,” Karik said soberly. “Neka, what’s wrong with Ma?”
She didn’t answer for a few moments—Karik wondered if she was busy—but then she spoke again, sounding rather subdued. “Uh, Karik dear, you really should speak to Arman about it, I think. I’ve let him know you’re on your way, and he’ll meet you at the docks. He wanted to know how many of your team are with you.”
“Just captain Romi. Kepi and Taz went to Urshek direct—Romi will need to speak to his colonel about them.” “Romi—do you have to stay in barracks?”
“Only if there’s no better offer.”
“I’m sure there will be.” “Do you think Kei and Arman will mind if Romi comes with me, Neka?”
“I don’t know, dear. I’ll ask, but it’s possible they won’t be able to have him to stay.”
Karik frowned. There was something very odd about all this. He’d taken it for granted that any friend of his would be welcome
at Kei and Arman’s—they always had been in the past. “Arman says to tell you that you can have a herd of jombekers to stay as long as you get yourself back in one piece.”
Now that sounded more like it. “You can come with me,” Karik said, grinning at Romi.
“Good. Karik, if I don’t get up and stretch, my arse is going to fall off. We’ll be in dock in a couple of hours—maybe you can give people your news then?”
“Of course.” “Neka, I’ll see you all soon. How are Seiki and Mila and Jes?”
“Absolutely fine, only very sad of course. We can fix that in no time. I’ll tell them all to let you have this evening in peace to settle in and talk to Kei, but you can expect to be overrun tomorrow!”
“Give me a chance to get Romi to the infirmary, Neka, and then I’ll brace myself. I’ll come to the house?”
“If you don’t, I suspect Jera and Reis will just come and kidnap you, darling. I’m so glad you’re safe. Please don’t leave us again too soon.”
“I won’t, I promise. Give Reis a hug for me, and kiss Jes. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Romi got to his feet, and helped Karik to stand. “Something’s wrong,” Karik said. “I don’t know what, but something just doesn’t feel right.”
“You can’t do much about it from here. Time for that when we get to shore.”
Naturally time, which had slipped away much too fast over the previous fourteen days, now crawled achingly slow, and Karik swore they were getting no closer at all to Darshek. But finally the big cliffs and cannons which guarded the entrance to the massive harbour could be seen, and not long after that, they were passing them. Suddenly, they were in Darshek, the many ships and small boats that used the harbour sailing past their own vessel, and on the shore Karik could easily distinguish the House of the Rulers and the academy. He and Romi waited on deck along with the other passengers, all eager to end their voyage and get back to loved ones. Karik could hardly stand still for anxiety, for wanting to see everyone again and fearing what this would mean.
Romi squeezed his hand. “Your fingers are ice-cold. Why so nervous?”
Karik turned to him. “Promise me...you won’t give us up without a fight? Don’t just...leave without saying a word like you tried to do before?”
Romi grimaced, leaned over and kissed him. “I swear on my honour and the name of my clan. If we must part, I’ll say goodbye. But I’ll do everything I can do to avoid having to part at all. Now, calm down and look happy for your family, will you?”
There being no more solemn oath a Darshianese could make, Karik had to be satisfied with that. But the anxiety remained. He hadn’t expected his homecoming to be such a complicated matter. He hoped his fears would prove to be baseless—but he had a nasty feeling in his gut they would not be.
Staying Power: 43
Romi kept his arm around Karik until they were told to move back away from the rail for the tedious business of hauling the boat up to the docks. He shared his companion’s unease, but in his experience, the only cure for fear was to meet the cause head-on. That would be what they would be doing in just a few minutes.
It was a dull, overcast winter’s day, though much warmer than Andon. The warmth of the lurking sun seeped into his bones, gave him a feeling of hope that in his own country, in a milder climate, he could at last shake the lingering effects of his illness and resume his former perfect health. That would bring other dilemmas for them to solve, but he just felt that if he could be well again, answers to the rest of it might come. He had a feeling he was letting Karik’s optimism—the flush of new, first love—carry him along when he should be more sensible. But Karik had not failed him yet, and he trusted Karik as much as Karik had placed his trust in Romi. It was a leap of faith. Romi just hoped for a soft landing at the end of his fall.
The ship was finally secured, and the gangplanks lowered. “There they are,” Karik said, pointing to a carriage. Even from here, Romi easily made out where Lord Arman and captain Tiko waited patiently for them to disembark. He made a surreptitious adjustment to his borrowed clothing and wished his own uniform had not been too disreputable to don again. Wearing civilian costume in front of his superiors sat very oddly with him.
They let most of the other passengers go first, then Karik bounded down the gangplank like a hiqwiq. With the dignity of his soon-to-be-shed rank, Romi followed behind, ready to play whatever role Karik wanted him to until he could tell his family of all the developments. Lord Arman was out of the carriage now, and Karik ran to him, being swept up into a heart-felt hug. Romi kept a polite distance—only when the two of them stepped apart, and Tiko had greeted Karik, did he approach, saluting smartly. “Lieutenant Romi, my lord—reporting ‘mission accomplished’.”
Lord Arman held out his hand for Romi to shake. “You brought him home,” he said, in a voice roughened by emotion, taking Romi’s hand in a powerful grip. “By all the gods, you brought him home.”
“He brought me back as much as I brought him, my lord.”
Tiko cleared his throat. “Lieutenant, if you could let me know who needs to be advised of what, I’ll tell the southerners. Matters of pay and leave can be dealt with tomorrow—I’m sure his lordship and young Karik want to get back.”
“Certainly.” Romi quickly gave Tiko the information, and also requested that a message be sent to his parents. Unlike Karik, he would not have the luxury of speaking to them, not unless they took the unprecedented step of coming to Ai-Vinri just to do so, but he could make sure they got word. “And my people?”
“All well. Sibu went back south a month ago with Corporal Jou after she finished her treatment, and the rest of them are all back safe and sound at their barracks. The men from here are out in the field again, but they’ll be glad to have word of you. Come by tomorrow, and I’ll give you a report.”
Romi saluted, Tiko had a brief whispered conversation with Karik, and then Lord Arman told them to get into the carriage as Tiko walked off towards the Darshek barracks. The driver set a cracking pace, as the Ruler looked at his nephew and shook his head. “You look like a bean plant, lad. Both of you do. What did you do—walk all the way from Visiqe?”
“Close enough, uncle Arman. We’ve got so much to tell you.”
“I’m sure you have, but I’ll spare you the effort of telling it twice. Lieutenant, may I expect your report or have you been too preoccupied?”
For a moment, Romi thought he meant ‘preoccupied with Karik’ and gave a guilty start, before realising he just meant ‘preoccupied’ generally with survival. “No, my lord—we’ve had enough leisure for that.” He had it at the top of his pack, and handed it over. “You’ll have had my notes from the earlier part of the expedition?”
Lord Arman flicked cursorily though the notebook Romi had used for his report, then put it in his lap. “Yes—very thorough, but you’ll understand it’s the latter part that I’ll find most fascinating, under the circumstances.” He gave his nephew another searching look, as if he half expected him to disappear under his nose. The man was worn to a thread.
“Of course, my lord.”
Lord Arman continued to stare at them both, but said very little, which surprised Romi, knowing how ecstatic he must be to have Karik back with them again. Karik was right—there had to be something else going on.
The pretty jesigs were also fast, and brought them to a quiet street on the very outskirts of the city proper in very little time. Romi was rather surprised—somehow, he’d expected a Ruler to live in much grander style, but there was nothing remarkable at all about the house in front of which they stopped. Lord Arman and Karik grabbed the packs, and the Ruler dismissed his driver. Karik stopped for a moment, staring at the house with an odd expression on his face.
“Karik?”
“Just...savouring.”
Lord Arman’s face split into a grin, the first real smile since they had arrived. “I know how you feel, my lad. Go on, we’ll catch you up.” Karik ran up the path and through the doors. T
he Ruler shook his head. “So much energy.” He gave Romi a penetrating stare. “You’ve been unwell, Neka said.”
“Yes, my lord. But Karik has been as kind and diligent an attendant as I could ever wish for.”
“He’s a very good man, my nephew. Please, call me Arman in my own home, lieutenant.”
“Then please call me Romi.”
Arman clapped him on the shoulder. “Done. Come inside. Our housekeeper has been in a frenzy ever since the message came.”
They found a tableau of restrained hysteria before them as Romi and Arman entered the kitchen. Karik was hugging his weeping uncle, and standing near them, also crying, and winding her hands in her apron, was an elderly woman apparently on the point of collapse. Without even stopping to think, Romi went to her and took her hands. “Why don’t you sit, madam?”
“Pira,” Arman murmured. “She’s Pira. Pira, this is Romi. Romi, I’m going to make some damn tea. Look after her,” he added as Pira burst into a fresh bout of tears.
“Now, now, Pira,” Romi said, wondering exactly how he had ended up comforting a stranger while Karik was sitting a foot away. “Everyone’s safe now.”
He made her sit, and she wiped her eyes with the corner of her apron. “Oh, blessed gods,” she sniffled. “I’m sorry. Arman, let me—”
“Please, just sit down, Pira. Kei? Karik?”
Kei released his nephew, but tears still streamed down his face, even as he pulled out a handkerchief to wipe his eyes. “It’s a miracle. A true miracle.” He squeezed Karik again. “Are you real, nephew? Honestly?”
“Completely real, Kei. Don’t cry, you know I hate that.”
Romi handed Karik his own handkerchief. “Same goes for you,” he said, giving his friend a smile, and getting a sweet one in return.
He felt awkward, just sitting there holding Pira’s hand while a real live Ruler bustled about making tea for them all, but it seemed to be the way things were in this household—no one stood on ceremony. Kei gradually collected himself, and finally turned to Romi with a damp smile. “I’m sorry—I’ve been very rude. Welcome back. Thank you for bringing him home.”
Staying Power (Darshian Tales #3) Page 54