“It’s the ‘almost’ that bothers me.”
Yuko rubbed his eyes again, and it was clear that a combination of perhaps too little sleep and grief for his friend was wearing on him. Arman stood. “I’ll come back later.”
“Have lunch with me here after I get back from the palace. I’m sorry, there’s just so much I need to do about Urso, and the Rulers’ instructions....”
“I understand.”
Arman left quickly to avoid wasting any more of Yuko’s time. With directions from the clerk, he found Misi, looking solemn and rather red-eyed once more. Arman regretted making her work on this when it was clear that she, like the rest of the staff, had their thoughts elsewhere. “Kei said he would be free in an hour after I contacted him. Which is now, if you are free.”
“Is there somewhere we can go?”
She nodded and led him to a small office. They took a seat and then she placed her hand on his wrist. After only a minute or two, Kei’s voice was once more in his mind. “Arman, I’m surprised to hear from you so soon—has something else happened?”
“In a way. But tell me first of Lord Meki—how did he take the news?”
“Hard, of course. It’s hit everyone hard. But he’s all right. Lord Peika took charge pretty well. He’s damn furious though. They all are. So am I. What a pointless, stupid thing to do.”
“You expected something different from Mekus?”
Kei wanted to know about Kerti and what was to happen to Urso’s body, and since he could inform a good many people, Arman was happy to take the time to tell him in some detail. But then Kei realised Arman would hardly have contacted him just for that. “You’ve spoken to the lawyer? What did he say?”
“Ah. Well, it looks bad. They’ve got me pretty conclusively damned on the character front, and because I ‘abandoned’ my ‘heir’, the only way of recovering the situation is to take Karik into my charge again. But there’s a problem with that.” Kei was silent. Arman wondered if he had guessed, but he said it anyway. “Kei, I would have to stay in Utuk.”
More silence. Arman looked at Misi but she gave no indication the connection was broken. Then, finally Kei spoke. “Arman, what would I do there while you waited for him to become adult?”
And this was what he’d been dreading to tell him. “You wouldn’t. If you came down here, it would most likely negate most of what I would achieve by remaining. Our relationship is one of the things the court and society frowns on the most, and Mekus would keep trying to use it to undermine my right to have Karik. You would have to stay in Darshek.”
Kei was a talkative man, and usually open with his emotions and reactions. When he said nothing, that was when Arman knew he was deeply upset. “I haven’t made a final decision. I only heard about this, this morning. But I wanted to warn you, and discuss it with you.”
“What alternative is there?”
Kei sounding so dead and blank was nearly as disturbing as when he said nothing. “There’s a chance the judges will dismiss the petition, but frankly, it’s so slight as to be nonexistent. We’re trying to get some character witnesses to support my claim, but the problem is that Karik has not been raised as Prijian, and that goes fundamentally against the principles of the society. Apparently my father has a lesser claim than Mayl in these circumstances. The only other option is to leave Karik with Mekus for two years and hope he survives the experience. But not only do I not wish that for him, you know what it will do to Reji and Jena.”
“It will break their hearts. They’re already in a terrible state.”
“Yes, I can imagine. So...it’s a question of the least suffering for the fewest people.”
“You mean, you and me against the three of them? But what of Lord Meki, Arman? What will he do without you to take over from him? You speak as if you have no importance to anyone but me.”
“Don’t you see? I have a duty to the boy and to his parents, and it’s one that has to take priority over my personal feelings. However much you will miss me, you know you can handle this.”
“However much they love Karik, I love you as much, you bastard.”
“Do you think I don’t know that? Gods, you sound as if I want to do this.”
“You’ve been quick enough to put the wheels in motion,” his lover snapped. “And what in hells would you do with yourself down there? They hate your guts.”
“Well, I spoke to Yuko about maybe working with the embassy.”
“I see. So it’s not a discussion, it’s a presentation of a decision. Thanks for letting me know.”
“Don’t be an arse. I thought you wanted me to help Karik and his parents. If you think it’s acceptable for Karik to remain with Mekus, for the gods’ sake, just tell me!”
More silence. This was going about as badly as it could do, and he felt a little resentful that Kei seemed to think this was something he’d orchestrated. Did the man imagine he wanted to be away from him, when Arman’s dreams were filled with thoughts of him and his body longed to feel Kei’s against him?
At the same time, Kei’s acceptance and advice was paramount, and if his lover objected strongly, Arman would not go against it. Kei deserved his undivided loyalty. But Kei had ties that Arman did not, and only he could judge whether they had a higher claim.
“How can we keep Lord Meki from working himself to death?” With that quiet question, Arman realised Kei had accepted his staying behind was inevitable, and the slide of regret in his chest made him aware that he’d been hoping Kei would take the choice from him and insist he returned home. Which was damn cowardly of him, really.
“Find someone to replace him whom he trusts. Ask the other Rulers to take on more. I don’t have all the answers—I’d thought accepting his request for me to be nominated was the end of the problem. I wasn’t expecting this, you must know that.”
“I know...just give me some time to stop being angry with everyone. Karik will still hate being kept from Jena and Reji.”
“Then he should have kept his mouth shut. People have to pay for their mistakes. I’m just trying to make sure he’s not actively harmed. I probably can’t make him happy, but I can keep him safe and make sure his mind isn’t too polluted. You never know, the experience might be the making of him.”
“So long as he doesn’t trail back to the village with a Prijian general in tow, I think it won’t necessarily be all bad.” The joke was strained, but at least it showed Kei’s courage on which they would both have to depend if they were to get through this. “Arman... I don’t want to be weak but.... damn it, I miss you so much already. I’ll be a wreck after two years.”
That blunt statement nearly undid him completely. “Then we’ll be two wrecks together, because I can’t imagine it being anything but a hell for me. But you’re strong, Kei, and lived through so much worse. You and I...can endure. You know we can. But you know what it must be like for the boy, and for Reji and Jena knowing that.”
“I know. It’s the only reason I can even think about letting this happen. Would you live with your father?”
“Most likely. He and Mari can provide a decent household and now Karik is nearly an adult, he won’t strain my father’s patience the way a baby would have done. At least I won’t have to worry the boy has his father’s morals.”
“No, you don’t. Is it decided then? Shall I tell them? It’s bad news, even if it could be worse.”
Wait a little. Vekus is still making enquiries though it looks pretty hopeless. I don’t want to press Yuko but it would be well to have some plan for me laid out. Uh...you could tell Lord Peika, but not Meki. Not yet.”
“Gods, you have so many things you are doing up here. How can you let them all just drop?”
“Because I made a hash of my marriage and I can’t let a child pay the price for that. I can and will still serve our country. It will just have to be in a different way, that’s all. You and I will have to communicate this way, but I know my love won’t die because of it, or yours. I have faith in your
love for me. I believe in it.”
“Then you have more sense than I thought you had,” Kei joked. “Will you think badly of me if I go and kick a wall now?”
“Kick the building down for all I care. I know how you feel, trust me. I’m sorry. If you were here, you would know that’s an inadequate way of putting it.”
“If I were there, then we wouldn’t be having this conversation. Ethics or no ethics, if I ever meet Mekus again, I’ll pull his brain out of his arse with a hook.”
Arman had to grin at the image. “Considering how small that organ is, you’d need tweezers to find it. I’ll be dropping down to the embassy every couple of days. I’ll try to speak to you if Misi isn’t busy, but you can leave a message if you need to speak to me sooner. I’m trying to get permission to see Karik. I’ll let you know if it happens, but it’s not hopeful.”
“My blood runs cold every time I think of him in Mekus’s hands. It will be infinitely preferable to have him in yours, even if it’s in Utuk. You’re right about that. I wish you damn well weren’t, but you are.” Kei sighed. “You’ll have to make it up to me when you get back. It’ll take you a lifetime, you realise.”
“Then a lifetime is what you shall have. We’ll talk soon. I love you, never forget it.”
“I never can. Goodbye for now, my love.”
Misi lifted her hand from Arman’s wrist, and then looked at him. “Forgive me, Arman, but I have to say this—I don’t like keeping these things from Jena in this manner.”
“Nor I, but there’s no point in adding to their pain before we know exactly what’s happening, and Reji is...a little volatile when it comes to his son. I don’t want him charging down here and getting hurt. One death is one death too many.”
“Yes,” she said, her eyes downcast. “I can’t believe Urso’s dead. I mean...he was always smiling, always so nice to everyone, and so kind. Why is he dead so soon after you arrived?” She looked at him then with clear accusation.
“Because I’m hated by my former comrades and because a powerful, evil man has a powerful, evil grudge against me. Urso had the misfortune to be caught up in it, and few regret that more than me.”
“The Prij hurt us at every turn. We should not be on this island,” she said with a harshness that belied her demure manner. “Better that we never had any contact with them at all than to expose ourselves to this.” But then she flushed. “I’m sorry, I’m being rude. I just...it’s Urso.”
“It doesn’t matter who it is, the death would still be a great crime. But I disagree with you that we should have no contact with them. Or perhaps you consider me one of them still?” She looked up with a guilty start, and flushed again. “Well, that’s not surprising,” he said, suppressing a sigh. “The Prij are slowly learning better habits from their neighbours. Unfortunately, the ruling class is conservative and some, none too bright with it. The lower orders lead an uncertain existence and that makes them cling to what certainties they have. However, if change comes, it will only come if there are forces pushing it along. Darshian is one of those forces.”
“We’ve paid too high a price for that, and I don’t care what happens to this nation.”
“Then what are you doing here, lass?”
“My father works here, and I came down with him three years ago. I hate being here. Every second is torture.”
“Go home, Misi. The embassy doesn’t need someone working here against their will, and in truth, you’ll do more harm than good with that attitude. I’ll put a word in for you if you’d like.”
She looked briefly hopeful but then shook her head. “I can’t leave my parents.”
“Then learn to endure, and try to understand, is my only advice.” He stood. “Thank you for your help,” he said formally, and left the office, feeling depressed once more. He would face resistance from both sides if he stayed down here, and he would hurt someone whatever he did. The pity was that it wouldn’t just be him in either case.
Voyaging: 17
The two weeks crawled by, and Arman was ready to go mad with boredom and worry. Four days before the second hearing, Vekus came to the house for another meeting. The news was mixed, but overall, not good. Astonishingly, between Arman’s father and his own suggestions, they had come up with five people of good standing who were not cowed by the prospect of being attacked at the courthouse (or who hated Mekus enough to brave it) and who would be prepared to state Arman had been of good character while they’d known him. This, in addition to the fact that once Vekus had received copies of the witness statements supporting the allegations against Arman, he was confident they could be struck out as hearsay, or motivated by venality or on other grounds, meant that on the character question, they had a hope of defeating the other side.
However, as Vekus had already explained, the real problem was Karik’s upbringing and Arman’s absence from Kuprij. A court clerk had examined Karik and reported him as deplorably deficient in his native tongue, and lamentably lacking in any knowledge of Prijian culture. When asked about the gods, he had not been able to even guess at their nature or names, which, the clerk said, had shocked all who heard the conversation.
It was the only report of Karik they’d had. Arman’s request to visit was turned down on public order grounds, and any further visits would have to wait until the custody issue was settled. No one from the embassy was allowed to visit in his place, because Kita and Mekus still pretended it was a wholly Prijian issue and therefore the Darshianese had no right to make such a request. Still, the clerk had reported the boy to be in good health and fair spirits, which was slightly reassuring.
“So, what you’re saying is that my remaining truly is our only option?” Arman asked.
Vekus hesitated and shuffled his papers nervously. “Ah, there is one other, but I hesitate to mention it because you have told me your financial situation is so poor.”
“Well, tell me, Vekus.”
“My colleague tells me that, ah, in certain circumstances, it is possible for the defendant to purchase the right to custody—in effect, paying compensation to those with the higher claim to the boy, for giving up rights to him. It is more usually done when the maternal line wants to keep control over a child when there is a divorce, but the precedent applies in this case too.”
“I take it that such compensation is not going to be small.”
“No, Sei, I regret not. For a child of the senatorial class, related to such esteemed men of rank, the minimum they could demand would be equivalent to approximately a quarter of your father’s wealth. A third would not be considered unreasonable and, considering the circumstances and the strength of the claim, probably what they would ask, at the very least.”
Arman’s heart sank. “I have nothing. I don’t even really own even the clothes on my back, and I have no income at all.”
“Perhaps the Rulers in Darshek would assist? The parents have no money, I gather.”
“They have no money and no need of it. As for the Rulers.... The society does not hold vast sums of wealth for such things, and it would be wrong to spend it on a single child when so many others could benefit. I won’t even ask them,” he said firmly.
“As you wish, Sei. I have made discreet enquiries and as you surmised, it will mostly likely be possible for you to remain in Utuk without official opposition. Whether there is any unofficial opposition is not for me to say.”
“Can Mekus and the rest object to my having Karik even if I agree to stay?”
“Yes, they can and most certainly will. However the character witnesses and your undertakings, not to mention your father’s position, will make it hard for them to succeed. We can only try.”
Arman dismissed him then, knowing the time had come for him to announce formally that he would remain in Utuk, to let Karik’s parents know, and to break the news to Lord Meki. His father received his announcement without surprise but with no great pleasure. “If you prefer, I could stay with Tijus,” Arman said, seeing his father’s severe expr
ession. “If you feel it would impose on you too much here.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. Having you here is of no consequence and you tell me the boy is well-mannered. It’s watching you dismantle your life for Mekus that angers me.”
“Not dismantle, Father—merely delay. I can achieve things here, and if I can be of service to you, then that’s something I could be proud of.”
His father frowned then and dismissed him without ceremony. Arman found it odd that his father seemed to mind this even more than he did.
The conversation with Lord Meki was never going to be easy and Arman found himself speaking with a very angry Ruler—less, to Arman’s surprise, on his own behalf than on Kei’s. “Damn you, Arman, how can you do this to Kei? No wonder he’s been so morose this last week. Don’t you realise how lucky you are to have him?”
“Yes, I am. Meki, the boy is precious to him and to his dearest friends. Do you think it’s right to abandon him? Kei says Karik is capable of making an enormous contribution to Darshian if he gets the right training.”
“Then he will get it when he comes back. Do you believe he’s being physically harmed?”
“Not yet, but it’s more the effect on his mind and his spirit. He has a gentle soul and is rather innocent. Mekus could twist him and break him very effectively.”
“He’s Mekus’s son, so how do you know he won’t end up twisted anyway? Damn it, we’ve lost one good man already because of this nonsense. Don’t expect me to let you go without a fight.”
“This isn’t easy for me either, you know. Do you really expect me to walk away from this? I am responsible at least in part for this situation, and no one else can help the boy. Are you so ready to toss him to the fates because of his Prijian blood? Because if that’s your attitude, then I wonder you can stomach me at all.”
Silence. Misi looked at him with alarm, and Arman wondered if she’d ever heard anyone talking to a Ruler in this way before. Finally—“Forgive me, Arman. I was being selfish. Your Prijian blood or his doesn’t even come into it for me, and I regret I gave you any cause to think it. It’s just...Kei is already taking this hard, and after what happened with Urso...I fear for your safety. What makes you think Mekus won’t continue to attack you? What, in fact, makes you think they will even let you return?”
Falling From the Tree (Darshian Tales #2) Page 29