Kei shook his head, and changed the subject. Romi wished he knew Karik’s mother better—for all he knew, she was capable of malice and wanting to hurt Kei for spite. He really hoped she wasn’t—for everyone’s sake.
But aside from that, the time passed in a peaceful and happy fashion. It was a house that brimmed with love—between Kei and Arman, for their elderly housekeeper who was a part of their family, not a servant, and for Karik and their friends. If a home could have a soul, this did—and it resided in the breast of his gentle, clever host.
Pira had decided she wouldn’t come to dinner with them all—she found large gatherings tiring, Kei said—so it was just the two of them who took the easy stroll down to the city centre in the late afternoon. “I love this walk,” Kei declared as they took the harbour path, still wet from the afternoon’s heavy showers. “So many happy memories walking with friends and people I love. Every time I see the water, I think of them.” Romi bit his tongue—he could have pointed out people felt just as fond of him and missed his company, but Kei would have to work that out for himself.
Kei declined to go into the academy to look for Karik, so it was Romi who went in search of his lover. He found him deeply immersed in plant specimens, but not so absorbed that he didn’t welcome a kiss and a quick embrace. “Ready to go?”
“Yes—let me just ask Seiki to tell Arman to come find us. Kei’s in the square?”
“Mmmm. Wouldn’t come in.”
Karik sighed. “Stubborn man. Wish he’d listen to me.”
Romi waited until Karik bade goodbye to his colleagues, but before they went out into the sunshine, he tugged him over to a corner of the foyer. “Before you see Kei again, I want to ask you not to pester him about the job.”
“Why? You know he’s being ridiculous.”
“He knows it too—it’s not a matter of knowing at all. Look—you know you’re safe now—does that stop your panic attacks from happening?”
Karik stared, then looked down and scuffed his feet. “No,” he said in a small voice.
“Listen to me. Don’t push him—you’re hurting him. On his own, with love and time, he’ll make it. But don’t add to his pain.”
Karik looked up. “You and he must have had quite some chat today.”
“We did. All your faults were discussed in detail, as well.” Karik stuck his tongue out. “It’s true—he had some great stories to tell about you when you were a toddler.”
“Oh, you...I’m going to get you for that later, lieutenant arse.” Romi raised an eyebrow at the insult. “I used to call you that in my head—I think I’ll have to call you that now too.”
“Fine, you little snot. But will you do as I ask? It’ll be all right, I promise. Trust me.”
Karik laid his hand over Romi’s heart. “Always. But I’ll still worry.”
“I know. Come on.”
They found Arman sitting with Kei on the bench under one of the many shade trees in the central square—the Ruler had shed his official robes and now looked as anonymous as any of the many other Prij who lived in Darshek. He held Kei’s hand and they were talking quietly as Romi and Karik approached—Kei was smiling, so his happy mood had lasted, thankfully. Kei stood as they walked up to the bench. “Ah, been working hard, nephew?”
“Yes, but now I’ve stopped. Come on, Jes got so excited yesterday when we told her you were coming over tonight.”
Romi squeezed Karik’s hand approvingly for not taking the obvious cue to nag his uncle. Arman had already adopted Romi’s strategy, and in that, he showed he was far wiser about such things than Kei gave him credit for. It had to be hard though, not pushing, when Arman could see how much his lover needed to be back in his job, and how much the job needed Kei in it.
The house they were going to, was state-owned, Arman explained as they walked along. Seiki would normally have lived with the other Gifted and indeed had done so for some time. However, Arman said, she had been determined to have a normal life despite her gift, and the Rulers (by which Romi assumed he meant Arman himself) were determined she should have it. Unusually, she had retained close ties with her family, and her mother, occasionally both parents, visited Darshek regularly. Also unusually, she had a job at the academy, working with children with hearing, speech and other developmental problems, and assisting in the infirmary where her mind-speaking was of great benefit to patients and healers alike. When she had fallen in love with an actress at the theatre, she had asked for a home of her own, and it had been gladly granted. Now her little family lived a perfectly ordinary life in their perfectly ordinary house, and her ability to live out in the world of normals was inspiring the other Gifted to attempt the same thing, albeit slowly. Kei and Arman were happy to encourage them, Kei said.
The house wasn’t far from the house of the Gifted, since Seiki still had her friends there, and it meant they could visit easily. Before they even got to the gate, the front door flew open, and a tall, handsome, young woman with a small girl at her side stood there, beaming at them all. “Look, Jes! Look who’s come!”
The toddler threw open her arms. “Kei-kei! Come to Jes!”
Kei ran up the path to sweep her up, and blew bubbles against her neck which made her giggle madly. Then he kissed the young woman, who waved him inside with her daughter while she came forward to greet them. “I’m Seiki. You must be Romi.”
Romi took her hand and shook it. “Yes. Thank you for having me to visit.”
“Oh, you couldn’t have stopped me—not after all Karik told us. Hello, Karik, Arman.” She kissed Arman’s cheek. “He looks well. Is he all right now?”
“He will be, my dear. Shall we go in?”
It was a small, cheerful house with all the obvious signs of a child’s residence, but also showing the adults’ interest in collecting paintings, which hung on all the walls and gave the place colour and life. They were told to come into the kitchen, where an astonishingly lovely woman stood at the stove, stirring something, while Kei sat at the table with Jes in his lap. The young woman wiped her hands on her apron and smiled at Romi. “I’m Mila. Welcome.”
“I’m Romi. Thank you for inviting me.”
“Not at all. Sit everyone. Seiki, darling, supper will be a little while—tea for everyone?”
As Mila chatted to them and her family as she cooked, Romi wondered how on earth could Soza have described this gracious young lady in the way he had, even knowing what a practiced liar he was—he surely could never have met her. Mila was beautiful in the kind of unconscious way Romi found most winning, and Seiki clearly adored her. Seiki herself was placid and confident, and dealt with Jes with complete assurance and respect, winning Romi’s firm approval of her parenting skills. Their daughter—Karik’s daughter, he reminded himself—was happy, vocal, and very determined in her likes and dislikes. Arman, Karik and Kei were among her likes—that, she made very clear.
She wasn’t so certain about Romi when Mila gravely introduced him to her. “Ma, why is he?”
Karik grinned at the strange question. “Jeichi, Romi’s my friend, like Ma is Ma-Ma’s friend.”
“Your Ma-Ma?”
“No, he’s my Ma,” Romi said, poking Karik in the side.
She didn’t like the joke. “My Karik,” she announced. “Not yours,” she added, scowling at Romi.
“Oh. Sorry, Jes.”
“Jeichi, that’s rude,” Seiki said gently. “Romi is Karik’s special friend, but Karik’s still your Pa.”
Karik held his arms out and she climbed off Kei’s lap and came to him. “You’re my girl, Jes, always will be.” He kissed her forehead and they cuddled. “I missed you so much while I was away.” Romi wondered how Karik could face leaving his daughter again, when he clearly adored her—and wondered what he could possibly offer him that matched this pure and unconditional affection.
There was little opportunity for introspection while Jes was still awake. She was fed early and allowed to play with her beloved Kei and Arman for a while, then
Seiki and Karik put her to bed. After that, it was time for adults. Romi had never had much to do with artistic people before, and never met a truly Gifted, so he’d been curious to meet this couple. The reality was that their lives revolved around the same concerns as any other young family—Jes’s health, her achievements, the new words she’d learned, and Seiki’s work, and the politics at the theatre, where Mila not only performed but taught. They were very bright, very kind and very normal people, who just happened to have extraordinary talents. Romi liked them very much.
The meal was simple and homely, the quiet love and affection between their hosts reminding him, with sorrow, of evenings with Lema and Wepizi. Kei visibly bloomed as the evening wore on. Romi realised he’d seen this phenomenon before—on the expedition, on their long march to safety. Kei had been starving—dying on his feet because he’d denied himself the very thing he needed to live, out of his understandable but entirely misplaced guilt. Perhaps, now he’d tasted nourishment again, his hunger would drive him back to seek more of it, and that could only be good for all the people who loved him.
But if Karik left again, possibly permanently, it would hurt Kei, possibly permanently. It would hurt everyone in this house, and his parents back in the village. Once again, Romi was faced with the knowledge that, balanced against all this, he had very little to offer, and nothing Karik couldn’t get just as easily in Darshek, if he was prepared to be patient.
“Romi?”
“Uh...what?”
Karik looked puzzled. “Mila just asked us to help clean up.”
“Oh...right. Yes, of course.”
Seiki apparently had something she wanted Kei and Arman’s opinion on, and Mila was left to clear the dishes. Karik moved easily around the kitchen—it was obviously somewhere else he saw as home. Romi found a cloth to dry the plates Mila was scrubbing clean.
But as soon as her lover left with the other two, it was clear they had been taken out of the way for a reason. “I wanted to talk to you both,” Mila said wiping her hands. “Actually, I’d wanted to talk to Karik, but...Romi, you need to be here as well.”
“What’s wrong, Mila?” Karik came to her side.
She smiled. “Nothing’s wrong—far from it. It’s just that...Karik, I know you just got back, but we’re so desperate for another child and....” She blushed and glanced at Romi. “But maybe things have changed?”
Romi put his hand on her shoulder. “Not on my account. You two need to talk. Excuse me. I’ll let you have your privacy.”
But Karik stopped him. “No, Romi, please. This affects you too.”
“I don’t even know where I’ll be in three months’ time. You need to make this decision without considering me at all.” Karik’s expression fell. “I’m only saying how it is. No point in glossing over it.”
Mila moved away, looking rather as if she wished she had gone with Seiki. “Um, perhaps you two need to talk privately.”
“No, Mila, we don’t. You want another child. That’s between you, Seiki and Karik. I’m just an outsider here. Excuse me. I’m going into the garden.”
He refused to allow them to hold him back, and made his way to the back door, lit a fire sprite and then found a place to sit. After the rain that afternoon, it was cool by Darshek standards, but perfectly balmy and pleasant after Andon. It was a small but pretty garden, but Romi paid it little attention beyond automatically noting the details. His mind was elsewhere, thinking about Karik, and thinking about where he would be in a few months. Thinking about how he simply could not allow Karik to walk out on his life here because it affected too many people, but how equally, Romi had no place here. He was just a guest, an appendage. Even Jes resented him taking her Pa away from her, and if a two-year-old resented him for that, how much more would the adults in Karik’s life do so?
It didn’t seem very long before he heard the back door open again, and footsteps on the path. He turned—it was Karik, looking uncertain and not very happy with him. “All done?” Romi asked.
“No. Mila says unless you’re involved, she won’t allow me to help them again. I don’t understand. Why don’t you care about this?”
“Because it’s your life, not mine. It’s a decision for you, not me.”
Karik came over, put his hand hesitantly on Romi’s shoulder. “Don’t you think it’s a decision for us?”
“And if I said I objected? What happens when I go back south, and Mila and Seiki have been denied a chance at another child on the whim of someone who’s not even part of your life any more?”
Karik dropped his hand. “I see. Already looking to a future without me. I hadn’t realised you’d made up your mind.”
“I haven’t. I just don’t see any answers that will let me stay with you.”
“So you just give up again,” Karik said, voice laden with scorn. “Same as you did in Andon. Things are hard, so you just run away. You aren’t even willing to try, to fight for this. I’m fine so long as it’s convenient, but as soon as it’s not, you abandon all thought of me. Who are you? I don’t know you at all.”
He turned to stomp up the path. Romi made to grab his shoulder, but stopped, unwilling to trigger another panic attack. “Am I not allowed to care at all what happens to you?” he asked quietly. “Am I not allowed to want you to keep what makes you happy and gives you joy?”
Karik didn’t look around. “You give me joy, you make me happy.”
“Not. Like. Them. I can’t give you what they give you, and if I take you away from them, I can’t replace what you’ll lose. And if I don’t have a role to play here, then I’ll grow to resent it, and you, and I still won’t give you what you need.” He moved a little closer to Karik, but didn’t touch him. “There is more to a full life than love, and I will not be the cause of you losing this wonderful home. I won’t let you follow me, and I won’t hang around here on the fringe of your existence, because we both know I need to be doing my job, same as you do. That’s final, Karik.” He clenched his fists. There. Said. Why did he feel so cold?
“And am I not allowed to want you to be happy and to give you joy, Romi? Am I supposed to sit here in my perfect life while you go south and.... But I’m assuming you would miss me at all. I forget I’m dealing with a soldier. No regrets, no ties, right? Just a ‘see you next year, maybe’ and not a letter or a message until then? That’s just how it is, right?”
“Yes,” Romi said thickly. “That’s how it is.”
Karik turned. “Liar. You want what I want—you want a home, you want love, you want your family close to you. Why should I have it and you can’t?”
“Because you have it already. Without me. All I can do is destroy it—I can’t add to it. I bring nothing to this life you have at all.”
“You could if you just tried. If you trusted me, you could.” He walked up to Romi and took his hands. “Come north,” he said quietly. “Transfer and come north.”
“And do what?”
“I...well, maybe Arman could find you a place. I know....”
Romi held his hand up to forestall him. “No. Absolutely not. I have a job—I don’t want a make work position just to dance attendance on you.”
“But what in hells do you do in Temshek that’s so important?”
Romi frowned. “I train, I police, I guide my soldiers, I look after them. It’s a small barracks. A lieutenant does much more there than I would in Urshek, where there are more officers. If I came here, I’d be one in thirty people of the same rank, with captains and colonels.... I’d have less responsibility than I do in Temshek, much less, and with much less chance of rising through the ranks just so I could do what I already do now. You may think my job is unimportant, but I don’t. I do good work in Temshek and I want to keep doing it. Because when there is nothing else in my life, I still want to be able to say I served my country well.”
He looked helplessly at his companion. “I can’t say I’d give it all up for love, because that’s not something I believe in. I swore an oath
to serve—that comes first. It wouldn’t matter who you were, and it’s not a matter of how much I love you. I love you more than I’ve loved anyone in my life, but I won’t become less than I know I can be to keep you.”
Karik stared, searching Romi’s expression. Then slowly, he reached up his hands and cupped Romi’s face, drawing him down to kiss him gently. “I’m sorry.”
“You have every right to be upset. I wish I could give you what you want, but I can’t.” Romi put his arms around his lover and laid his forehead against Karik’s. “I will always love you, wherever I am. I won’t ever give that up.”
“Then that’s something I can believe in.” Karik took his hand. “Come in anyway. Tell Mila it’s all right—she doesn’t need to worry about the rest of it.”
Romi squeezed him again, his heart too full to speak. Was there an answer he was missing? Was he wrong to be so selfish? But if he did what Karik asked and gave up his ambitions, he would betray himself—and he had to be able to live with himself if he was to give Karik a love worth having. There seemed no way of reconciling the two needs.
He kept his arm around Karik until they reached the house, and then he went ahead into the kitchen. Mila was sitting at the table, looking worried and rather upset. He went to her and hugged her. “You make a beautiful child with him with my blessing,” he whispered. “I could never want to stop anyone doing that.”
She gave him a sweet smile, and kissed his cheek. “Thank you. Thank you, Karik.”
“I’ll give you all the children you want. My Ma would have a hundred grandchildren if she could.”
She groaned and laid her wrist against her forehead. “Only a man would say something like that—you don’t go through the labour!”
Romi let her go and Karik took his place. “Sorry, Mila. I’d help if I could with that, but I don’t have the parts.”
“It’s all right, I forgive you,” she said with another winning smile. “Um... my most fertile time will start in five days...is that too soon?”
“Not a bit of it.” Karik glanced at Romi and then back to her. “Is it easier if Romi comes with me or not?”
Staying Power (Darshian Tales #3) Page 60