Falling From the Tree (Darshian Tales #2)

by Ann Somerville

  “Y-yes. It wuh-went m-m—” Karik stopped, obviously frustrated by being unable to get the word out, his face even redder than before.

  “I’ve seen jesigs suddenly turn quite ferocious because of these cysts,” Arman said, trying to pretend the boy’s stutter was unimportant. “Kei, we’ll probably need to let the villages know to watch out for the parasite, and to make sure that all meat is well-cooked.”

  “They do that anyway,” Kei said, sounding distracted. He laid a hand on Karik’s shoulder. “Why don’t you find Gyo? Arman and I will join you in a few minutes, and then we can have supper.”

  Karik nodded and slid quickly away from Kei’s grasp. He bobbed a quick nod at Arman, and then scurried out. Kei waited until the door closed and then he sighed. “Damn, his stammer almost disappeared for a while there, and then you come in and make that stupid remark.” He aimed a cuff at Arman’s head. “You can’t tease him like that, you idiot.”

  “You do,” Arman protested. “He’s not made of glass.”

  Kei shook his head at him. “I’m not you. And right now, after the trip and with what happened to Reji and everything else...my love, you forget how intimidating you can be to people, and since you’re the one who can unlock the secret of his past, he’s feeling rather nervous of you anyway. Just be gentle with him,” he said, laying his hand on Arman’s shoulder and then kissing his cheek. “They met up with Edi from Ai-Kislik. He made some accusations, told Karik and Gyo some unpleasant facts. I gather it upset Gyo more than Karik, or at least, Karik is mature enough to deal with it better, but it’s very unfortunate. Gyo didn’t need it on top of the recent news, and Karik hasn’t got his father with him to help smooth things over for him.”

  “I’m sorry,” Arman said, and meant it. He hadn’t wanted to hurt the boy’s feelings.

  “I know.” Kei slid his arms around Arman’s waist. “Anyway...it’s his birthday tomorrow. Is that a good time to talk to him, perhaps?”

  “I’m not convinced there is a good time. But I’ll make time for him tomorrow in the afternoon. Bring them for lunch at the Rulers’ House and I’ll speak to him afterwards. If you can get the others to do something else...?”

  “I’ll arrange it. Thank you. The sooner it’s done, then the boys can relax and if there’s any problem, we have time to deal with it before they leave.”

  Arman nodded—that was exactly his thought on the subject, not that he really wanted to do this at all. “Sorry about today,” he said. “All I can say is that our architects are lucky they’re dealing with me and Peika and Meki—if it was Kita, they’d all be dead by now.”

  “If they continue to run you ragged like this, I might have to consider bundling them off to Utuk for her to deal with,” Kei said seriously. “I’m certainly going to tell Lord Meki off when I see him. You’re not the only person he can call on, and if you are, then he needs to look to his organisation.”

  “I’m all right. I’m used to it, after all.”

  “Well, I’m damn well not. I refuse to lose you to bureaucracy. You came north looking for happiness, and happiness you shall have.”

  Arman couldn’t help but smile at Kei’s fierce expression. “I am happy,” he said quietly. “Every day I come home to you. What man has more?”

  “Well, for one—me,” Kei said, his expression becoming impish. “Now come along and be pleasant. I know you can do it, if pressed.”

  “If pressed,” Arman agreed, letting himself be tugged along by his hand. Despite Kei’s protest, he knew perfectly well he had the best of the deal, and he wouldn’t want it any other way.

  ~~~~~~~~

  Now he’d been alerted to the need for extra caution, Arman did what he should have done before he opened his mouth, and paid attention to how the two boys had grown and changed since he’d last seen them in the summer. Gyo had put on height, but was still rather young for his age—the natural result of a rather isolated existence, he supposed. Still a gentle soul, rather in need of his father’s attention which Misek gave freely, and also looking to Karik for a little guidance too, which was new. At least, Arman amended, he’d not observed it before.

  Karik had matured a good deal, although he was less obviously physically altered. Despite the slight growth of fine hairs on his upper lip, he remained almost girlishly pretty, with large, intelligent eyes, and the fine bone structure that was entirely his mother’s. He had nothing at all in his looks of his father, for which Arman was thankful—but being faced with a masculine version of Mayl was only slightly less disconcerting. Karik was going to grow up to be even more handsome than Mayl was beautiful, and even if he grew no taller, he would still be considered an attractive man.

  At least he would if he ever got over this terrible stutter. It did indeed get better or worse depending on who spoke to him and on what topic, and thought it might be worth asking his father if anyone in Utuk had ever successfully treated such a bad stammer. Arman had known boys from the nobility who’d stuttered and who had conquered it so they could take up their senatorial positions. If Karik was ever to make something of himself, Arman thought with a grimace, he’d need to overcome this disability.

  Their visitors were clearly weary, and after the meal, Kei suggested the four of them have a bath. In the village, Kei would have joined them but Arman had never been able to shed this last vestige of his Prijian upbringing, the feeling it was wrong to bathe with anyone other than his lover. Kei had had to explain this to Pira—the poor woman had to bathe alone, which went contrary to all polite practice among the Darshianese, but he simply could not bring himself to lounge naked in front of a woman old enough to be his mother. Kei had given up teasing him on the subject—he knew a lost cause when he saw it.

  Instead, he and Kei cleaned up the kitchen while Pira did a little darning. Kei was trying to make sure she didn’t overdo it after the bad cold which she had only just fully got over in the last week or so. He knew the knack of making it seem that Pira was supervising their worthless persons as they carried out tasks they should be doing anyway, and so preserving her fragile self-esteem. Although Pira had loved him dearly, her husband had been a rather controlling character, so Lady Nera had reported to them. It was all too easy for her to be made to feel as if she had no power over her destiny, and Kei wanted to make sure she felt in charge of her little domain, even if it was just this house.

  Kei saw him smiling. “What are you thinking of?”

  “You, naturally,” Arman said, leaning over for a kiss, and then handing his lover a pot to rinse.

  Pira smiled at their interaction. “Those boys are very well-brought up young men, don’t you think?”

  “A credit to their parents,” Kei agreed.

  “Pity about that poor lad’s stutter though. Such a pretty child and then he opens his mouth and spoils it.”

  Kei turned so only Arman could see his frown. “He’ll grow out of it,” he said cheerfully, although his tone was slightly forced. “Just like he’ll grow taller, right, Arman?”

  “He might indeed. I wasn’t much taller at his age, and look at me.”

  Kei did so with obvious admiration. “Hmmm, I think one giant around me is enough,” he said, and Pira chuckled.

  “The way they eat, I’m sure they’ll be taller than either of you.” She packed her darning away. “I think I’ll go to bed, if you’re finished in here.”

  “Of course,” Kei said, offering his arm to help her to her feet, though she didn’t need it. “Goodnight,” he said gently, kissing her cheek. “A wonderful meal, as usual.”

  “It will be even better tomorrow for the child’s birthday, I promise,” she said, smiling. “Good night, Arman.”

  Kei came back to the sink as the door closed. “Karik doesn’t need pity,” he said quietly. “And only a fool would think he was one, just because of a stammer.”

  “Yes—but she’s right that it does detract from people’s impression of him.”

  Kei turned to him. “I’m going to find someone,
anyone, who knows how to treat such things. The lad has a truly remarkable mind. To have it disregarded over something so trivial is a pure crime. I don’t understand where he got his intelligence from, since you hold his parents in such low regard—it’s nothing short of miraculous.”

  “Mayl isn’t stupid, actually,” Arman said, putting some elbow grease into removing a bit of baked-on food. “She just found it easier to get by on her looks and with manipulation, and of course, she had no education to speak of. Her father was sharp enough, though he was a perfect bastard. Mekus is nothing remarkable, unless you value cunning—he has that in barrow loads.”

  “Karik has not a drop of that in him for which we should be thankful. He’s so innocent. I almost wish I could preserve him as he is, for all he needs to learn a little worldliness. Such a beautiful soul.”

  “Does he need to be worldly, living in Ai-Albon? He could be like Misek and run a nursery, never be troubled by the outside world at all.”

  Kei gave him a sharp look, and then wiped his hands—they were nearly done, and so Kei put the kettle on for a last cup of tea before retiring. “I wouldn’t say the village is a place for innocents. It’s not that he’s not suffered at all, or he wouldn’t be so lacking in confidence, but somehow it’s managed to leave his soul untouched. He has one of the purest hearts I’ve ever sensed. If it wouldn’t grieve Jena and Reji terribly, I would beg to have him stay with us.”

  Arman raised an eyebrow at the strongly expressed words. “Neither of us have time for him, and you know it.”

  “Yes, but that’s also a cause for regret,” he said with a sigh. “I know, I know.” He shook his head, perhaps at his own foolishness. “I still want to help him. I think he would be much improved if we could build his confidence.” Kei fixed Arman with a look. “You can do much in that respect. You are a role model, or you would be, if you let it.”

  “The boy can barely speak to me.”

  “Because you terrify him. Try not to be so damn gruff all the time. He’s not a soldier.”

  “I can’t be pampering children—”

  “Karik is not a child. He’s sixteen. Old enough to take on a trade, to father a child, and nearly old enough to come to the academy if he wanted. I’m not asking you to pamper him. Just treat him as you would me. As an adult.”

  Arman couldn’t help a grin. “And what makes you think I’ve ever treated you as an adult?”

  Kei stuck out his tongue, which rather tended to prove Arman’s point. “You know what I mean, horrible man. Now stop messing around with those pots and make the tea. You’re not the only one who’s had an irritating day. I wonder if there’s something in the air to make people so troublesome.”

  Arman obeyed, feeling a little remorseful he hadn’t even asked how Kei’s day had been. He was even more grateful Kei had refused the academy position, and decided not to mention Lord Meki’s visit earlier. Nothing had changed, and Kei had enough to think about.

  He made the tea and brought the pot and mugs to the table, before sliding onto the bench next to Kei and putting his arm around him, kissing his hair. “So, plans for tomorrow?”

  “Mis and Risa can’t spend all day at leisure, so I thought they could take the boys around the city tomorrow, and then I’ll have them in the afternoon. If we meet you for lunch, then you can talk to Karik and then I’ll take them to the academy and show them the library. I can’t spare a lot of time this week, although I’m trying to clear at least one whole day. Any chance you can?”

  How could Arman refuse with those wonderful eyes turned on him? “I’ll try,” he murmured. “I won’t promise but I surely will try.”

  “Thank you,” Kei said contentedly, laying his head on Arman’s shoulder. “I wish it was summer so we could escape.”

  Arman kissed him again, this time on the lips, enjoying the warm taste of Kei’s clever mouth. “Tell you what—when Misek and the others leave, I’ll have a talk to Lord Meki. I could agree to what he wants, but insist on having a clear day a week, and maybe half the evenings utterly free without any argument—and we still go home every year.”

  Kei stared. “Is it possible you could really do that? You said it wasn’t.”

  “For you, I’ll make it possible. Besides, if Meki wants me that badly, he’ll agree. You forget the rest of the country has to agree to his nomination and that’s not assured by any means—but if he wants to put my name forward, those are my conditions. I want to cut back anyway.” He kissed Kei again. “Meki hasn’t anything else in his life,” he said gently. “I most certainly do. What do you say?”

  “I say it sounds fair. You need to serve—it’s in your blood and you’re good at it. So am I. But like you, I have more in my life than my work.” He stroked Arman’s face and gave him a sad smile. “Karik was lucky you didn’t give him to me, I suppose. We barely have time for each other, let alone enough to raise a child.”

  Arman kissed Kei’s fingers, and again regretted he’d deprived his lover at the one chance he’d ever had at being a parent. The least he could do was to give Kei his own company. Darshian would continue to receive his service—but so would Kei.

  Voyaging: 7

  Karik slept badly, but he wasn’t sure why, since the bed was comfortable and Gyo, lying beside him, a familiar, welcome presence. Karik was also very tired and had really wanted to get some sleep, so he was frustrated to be still staring at the ceiling hours after they had all gone to bed. When he finally did drop off, dark nightmares woke him up, his heart hammering and sweat cooling on his face, even though he couldn’t remember what they were about. Even though it wasn’t yet dawn, he knew he wouldn’t be able to get back to sleep.

  If he’d been home, he would have just got up—lit a lamp and found a book, or started to prepare breakfast—but he couldn’t do that here, for fear of waking someone or interfering where he wasn’t wanted. So all he could do was lie still and wonder how his sixteenth birthday would pass. He had completely forgotten about it until something Misek had said as they were turning in reminded him. No one had mentioned it, and he wondered if Kei or Arman would remember. Not that it mattered. Being away from his parents meant it wouldn’t be as much fun as he would like, although being with Gyo was good.

  He rolled over and waited patiently for some sign that it was all right to get up. As the dawn broke, he thought he heard low voices, and some gentle clinking. Then a heavy door opened and closed somewhere in the house. But still he wasn’t sure if he should leave the room.

  But a few minutes later, Risa made a low grunt and rolled over on the other bed, opening his eyes and seeing Karik watching him. “Oh, Ka-chi—happy birthday.”

  Karik smiled. So they hadn’t forgotten. “Th-thanks. C-can I get up?”

  “Sure. Kei’s probably already up—they’re both early risers. Head along to the kitchen, we’ll find you.”

  Risa had been whispering and so had Karik, so neither Misek nor Gyo were disturbed. Karik quietly found a clean shirt and overshirt to wear, then decided he needed to change his trousers—Kei had mentioned they might go to the academy today.

  He slipped out of the room just as Risa was yawning a little and scratching his hair—he would be up soon—and found his way to the washroom to wash face and hands. Then he went to the kitchen, from where cooking smells were already coming. Kei was making battercakes which sizzled and spat in the pan as he dropped them into it. “Good morning. Happy birthday.”

  “Th-thanks. Wuh-where’s Ah-Arman?”

  “Oh, long gone,” Kei said cheerfully. “He likes to get in early when he can, especially if he wants to have some clear time in the afternoon, and since he’s arranged lunch for you all as a birthday treat, he had things to do before then.”

  “Oh.” Karik hadn’t expected Arman to do anything at all for his birthday. “He d-doesn’t m-mind?”

  “Of course not,” Kei said with a big smile, deftly flipping the cakes in the pan. “Would you get some plates out for me?”

  Karik had
just finished setting out plates for everyone when Risa came in, still yawning and muttering greetings to Kei. A few moments later, Pira emerged. “Now what are you doing in my kitchen, Kei?”

  “I’m sorry, Ma, I was trying to help,” he said with a comically hangdog expression. “I thought the boys would be hungry.”

  “Yes, but they need something decent, not bachelor cooking,” Pira grumbled.

  Kei, whose cooking Karik knew to be perfectly fine, dropped a wink at him. It was clearly a little joke the two of them had going, and not to be taken seriously.

  “Happy birthday, young man. Are you planning some fun for today?”

  Karik looked at Kei, who answered. “Not in the least,” he said. “I was going to set him to scrub our floors, and then shift the compost heap, and then I thought he could come to the academy and dust all the books. Ow!” he yelped, shaking his hand vigorously—he’d got his knuckles rapped for his silliness. “Why, you don’t think that’s a perfect way to spend a sixteenth birthday? Isn’t that how you spent yours, Risa-ki? I know that’s how I spent mine.”

  “You’re an idiot,” Risa said, pouring himself and Karik some milk from the jug Pira had put out for them. “Don’t worry, Karik, your Pa told me to make sure you enjoy yourself.” He reached into the pocket of his overshirt and drew something out wrapped in cloth. “It’s nothing much, but I hope you like it,” he said, handing it to Karik.

  Karik unwrapped the object and found it was a gike plumwood hair clasp, lovingly carved and polished until it was as shiny as the tero stone he wore around his neck. “It’s b-beautiful.”

  “Can I see?” Kei asked. “Oh, yes, indeed—lovely work, Risa. I’m glad you still make such things—after Pa died, you were the only one to match his skill.”

  Risa shrugged. “It’s something to do while we’re travelling.”

  “Let’s put it on you,” Kei said. Karik turned obediently and let Kei fasten it to the top of his braid. “It looks fine. Not a Ruler has anything better, I swear.”