“Yes, me, and the amount is unimportant. What is important is that you will return to your home and your life and proceed to the glittering destiny which you have earned.”
Arman stared. “I had already accepted I needed to stay here. You had no right to interfere, Father.”
His father narrowed his eyes in obvious irritation. “I have a right as your father to ensure your happiness, and your acceptance was based on a false premise, which was that you could not ask for my help. I must say I’m wounded you think so little of me.”
“It wasn’t that,” he protested. “But the cost...and Karik isn’t even my son!”
“No. But you are mine and so long as I live, entitled to my help to the limit of my strength, my wealth and my ability. If you would do so much for the adoptive child of friends, why would you deny me my claim?”
Arman was speechless. With one generous gesture, his father had diverted him from doing something he had already resigned himself to do, and he felt a little dazed by the speed of events. “How much? Father, I need to know.”
“Enough. I disposed of some property. No one will suffer.”
“Please don’t tell me you sold the Garok estate. Father, no, you love that estate—”
Tijus coughed. “I bought the vineyard from Father to keep it with the house. The estate remains in the family, don’t worry.”
“But you were to inherit it! Father—”
“Arman, be quiet. It amounted to no more than what you are to receive when I die, which I felt you didn’t want anyway, given your disdain for personal property.”
“But I was going to pass anything you left to me to Tijus’s children!” Now he wished he’d broken Mekus’s pissing arm. That greedy, conniving shit.
“My children won’t starve, brother. Father is right. Please don’t speak of this until we go home.”
Vekus looked distinctly uncomfortable and Arman turned on him. “You—you should have told me,” he said, glaring at him.
“Vekus works for me and always has done,” his father said. “He took my instructions. Since you were so determined to destroy your life, it’s a good thing he did. Vekus, what happens if they accept it?”
The lawyer swallowed, obviously glad not to have to deal with Arman. “I expect to receive a note at my office today if they do, and in that case it will just be a formal withdrawal of the suit. They will present us with a complete abjuration of any claims by the maternal line. The boy should be handed over shortly thereafter, probably to the embassy. If for some reason they decide to reject it, then we proceed as we would have done. But they won’t reject it. The...er...offer was very generous. Rejecting it after indicating a willingness to accept compensation in the first place, would count heavily in our favour and they know it.”
Shortly after that, Vekus was dropped off near his offices, and Arman’s family drove home in silence. He didn’t know what to say to such a generous action. A quarter of his father’s wealth at least, Vekus had said. So it had to have been more than that—and it had to be more than the third Vekus had mentioned. Not only had Mekus got a full measure of enjoyment from this situation, managing to drag Arman through as much trouble as he could create, he also would end up with a healthy profit. He couldn’t have done better if Karik’s return to Utuk had been planned. Arman felt sick. He wasn’t worth it. Karik wasn’t worth it.
Mari greeted them with a worried expression. “How did it go? Did you succeed?”
Arman’s father answered for them. “It’s over. Join us in the library, my dear, if you would.”
Arman had to wait until his brother and father shed their heavy formal robes, and then the steward was summoned to bring pijo for them all. Only once it had been served, and the door closed, did his father permit him to speak. “Are you angry because you wanted to stay in Utuk after all, or because the secret was kept from you?”
“I’m angry because you’ve beggared yourself for a boy who means nothing whatsoever to you, and is not connected to this family at all! I’m angry because Tijus’s children had a right to that money. What about Mari? Could she not use those funds, Father?” He kept his tone low out of respect for his father’s companion, and because whatever he had done, his father had acted out of familial duty.
His father looked at Mari and took her hand. “Son, did it ever occur to you why I have not married this fine lady?”
“I honestly hadn’t considered it, Father.”
His father harrumphed, while Tijus grinned. “It’s all your fault, you know. It was you who kept going on about how wrong it was that women in our society had so few rights. We decided Mari had more autonomy and more security living as a widow with an independent source of income than if she were my wife, and her money was swallowed up in my own. Her future is completely secure, so is that of Tijus’s children. All I have done is use the money which would have been yours anyway, to help you before I die instead of afterwards. This route gives me more pleasure—or it would if you would stop being so ungracious.”
“Forgive me, but...you know I was ready to stay.”
“Yes you were, and more fool you. You’ve done your duty to this society. Now you have a lover who, if he were female, would make a fine wife for you, a role which is important and furthers the interests of Darshian and in doing that, you strengthen Kuprij. Ah, yes, I know we need your country. I’m no idiot. We need Darshian, Darshian needs you and you need Kei. Take the boy back to his parents and get on with your life. Time is too short to waste.” He lifted Mari’s hand and kissed it. “Someone once told me to find some joy in life. I suggest you follow your own advice.”
“But...I was looking forward to being with you all.” He hadn’t meant to admit that, but it was true. He hadn’t realised to what extent until the possibility was removed.
“And we were looking forward to it too, brother,” Tijus said kindly. “But Father’s right—you belong in the north now. None of us are permanently hurt by this. The vineyard is a good investment for me, and my children don’t need Father’s money.”
Arman shook his head. “I’m overwhelmed by your generosity. I just don’t think I’m worth it.”
“Then you’re truly a fool.” But his father’s words were said kindly. “Now, if all goes well, you should be going home in a day or two. Let’s not waste this time we have in bemoaning the past.”
“No. But, does it not bother you that Mekus has won?”
His father snorted. “He hasn’t won, Arman. Winning would mean he had hurt us. All he’s got is some money. I’m the one who wins, for I see my son returned to where I want him to be. Mekus will never have the satisfaction in his child that I have in mine. Both of mine. Now come with me into the garden. Tijus, do you want to invite those brats of yours over for lunch?”
Voyaging: 18
Karik was with the tutor in the library as usual, and as usual, bored almost beyond belief. The man was droning on about the lineage of the present sovereign, in which subject Karik could not begin to feign an interest, but since his tutor was just as happy with a vacuous smile as real attention, he gave him that and half an ear, while he gazed out the window. It was a beautiful day, but it did him no good to know it. He could only go as far as the garden, and while he could stare out at the sea and the boats which might carry him home, he could not escape. He had thought it ought to be getting easier after a month. Instead, he grew more miserable and homesick with every breath.
Footsteps outside the library and then the door was flung open. Mykis was there and snapped a command at the tutor too quickly for Karik to catch. The man bowed and left without a backward glance. Karik stood, uncertain what he should do. “Go to your room and remove those clothes, boy. Get dressed in your heathen outfit. Move!”
Karik scrambled, wondering why Mykis had abruptly dropped his obsequious politeness. It was either good news or bad news, but something had to have happened. Mykis stood and watched him take everything off and then thrust his old clothes back at him. “Take not
hing which you did not bring, or you will be punished,” Mykis warned, tapping his cane threateningly as Karik got dressed, relieved beyond words to be free of the heavy uncomfortable clothes.
As if Karik wanted anything from this odious house...ah, but there was one thing. He opened the drawer and pulled out Gyo’s bracelet which had fortunately escaped the curiosity and attention of the maids. He slipped it onto his wrist. “What’s g-going on?”
“Shut up and follow me.”
He was led downstairs and then taken out the back of the house. A carriage was waiting, along with four soldiers. Mykis told Karik to get into the carriage, and then he snapped an order to the soldiers who set the vehicle in motion without delay. “Wait! Wuh-where am I going?”
“Back to the savages who raised you, and good riddance, boy.” Mykis turned his back on him and walked back into the house.
Karik sat back, stunned. Was it true? Was he going home? But why hadn’t his mother come to say farewell? Did she even know he was going? And was Arman involved in this?
The carriage was driven at breakneck speed through the streets, as if the soldiers couldn’t be rid of him soon enough. They came to the Darshianese embassy in no time at all and he was ordered out of the vehicle with breathtaking rudeness. The driver said something to the gate guards and then they drove off again, leaving Karik bewildered and utterly at a loss to know what he was supposed to do.
Fortunately, the embassy guards took efficient charge of things, and one led him inside the embassy. A clerk was sent for the ambassador, who came out so quickly Karik wondered if he’d been waiting for him to arrive—but apparently not. “Blessed gods, Karik! When did you get here? And how?”
“He was just dumped here by those damn Prij,” the soldier with him explained. “They said he was your responsibility now.”
“Really? Emi, could you send a message to Senator Armis’s house for Arman, tell him that Karik is here, and ask him what he wants me to do. Are you all right, lad? I see they cut your hair—I’m sorry.”
Karik’s hand went to the back of his head. He had almost got used to the lack of the braid. “P-Pa said, d-do whatever I huh-had to.”
“Yes, indeed. Oh, I’m glad you’re safe,” Yuko said, giving him a quick hug. “I need to find out when we can send you back, and then we should let you talk to your parents—” He stopped talking and smiled apologetically. “I’m sorry, I’ve been in a bit of a flap since Urso died, can’t seem to organise things the way he did.”
“Ur-Urso died?”
Yuko frowned. “Gods, did they not even tell you about that? At least now you’re safe and you’re going home. Are you pleased?”
Karik nodded, even though his thoughts were whirling. How had Urso died? And what would Arman say to him? What would Karik say to Arman? Everything was changed now. And he still didn’t know if his mother realised he had left her house.
“Come into my office, Karik. Just let me sort a few things out and then I’ll explain what’s been going on.”
Karik waited impatiently while Yuko made arrangements with his staff, and wrote a couple of quick notes to be delivered. Then they were alone. “Well, the good news is that Senator Mekus and his wife and her family have completely given up their claim to you. You can go with Arman whenever he chooses and I imagine that will be on the first ship back to Darshek.”
Karik stared. “My muh-mother? M-Mayl? She d-doesn’t wuh-want me?”
Yuko looked embarrassed by his question. “Ah, well, I don’t know about that. All I know is that Arman was able to settle their claim. I don’t know what the thinking was behind them withdrawing it. Perhaps they thought you would be happier in Ai-Albon.”
Karik very much doubted Mekus, at least, cared in the slightest about his happiness. The odd thing was that at dinner the previous night, there had not been the slightest hint about any of this, and his mother had been as affectionate as usual. Why hadn’t she even come to say farewell? “Urso?”
“That was very sad, I’m afraid. There was a riot after the first hearing and Urso was killed by a slingshot. We suspect the riot was incited by people with a grudge against Arman.”
Karik started. “Mekus? D-Did he do it?”
Yuko blinked. “Now how on earth did you come to that conclusion, lad?” Karik explained about Mekus’s comments two weeks before. Yuko nodded, his expression grim. “Well, that tends to confirm our suspicions, not that there was much doubt. Mekus seems to have wanted to cause Arman harm in any way he could, damn him. But at least you both are free of him. Now, would you like to speak to your parents?”
Karik started to say ‘yes’ automatically, then shook his head. He didn’t know what to say to them. He didn’t even know what to call them any more. “Is there something wrong?” Karik shook his head again, looking at the floor. “Well, never mind. You can stay here in the embassy, unless Arman wants you to go to his father’s house. My wife and I live here so you can stay in our quarters if you don’t mind sharing with our two sons, or you can stay in the guest room as before, if you prefer.”
“Sh-sharing wuh-would be nice.” Having someone to talk to who wasn’t Mykis would be a pleasant change
“You’ve probably missed the company of your own people. Or have you actually been enjoying yourself?”
Yuko’s kind smile made it obvious he guessed Karik had been doing nothing of the kind. “No. I huh-hated it.”
“Yes, I thought you probably did. It’s over now, lad. You’ll be home very soon and you can put this behind you. I know Gyo will be glad you’re coming home.”
At the sound of his friend’s name, Karik wilted. How could he begin to explain this to him, and the complication of learning who his father really was? How could Gyo understand how Karik felt, when Karik didn’t really understand himself? He just nodded, hoping Yuko wouldn’t press him.
Yuko wasn’t an ambassador for nothing, and seemed to realise Karik needed time to collect his thoughts. “Why don’t you come to our apartment and we can get you settled in. Arman brought a pack of your things for you, and you can just relax and enjoy yourself. Is there anything you want to do?”
“N-not speak Prijian.”
Yuko seemed startled, then laughed. “I think we can arrange that. I tell you what—you can have free access to the library while you’re here, that should keep you amused. We can’t let you explore Utuk but I fancy you have no interest in that. If Arman doesn’t want to delay leaving for family reasons, I think we can have you on a boat tomorrow evening. Feel free to go anywhere in the embassy or the grounds that you want. My people should know where I am. If you need anything, let me know.” He gave Karik the first genuine, guileless smile he’d received in nearly a month. “I’m so glad we got you back. I kept imagining what it would be like if one of our boys was taken away from us and I confess it made my blood run cold.”
Karik nodded. But he suspected not all parents felt that way about their children. What he didn’t know was whether the fault lay with the parents or with the child. If both parents were indifferent to their offspring, maybe it was because the child didn’t deserve their affection.
He suddenly felt cold, even in the mild heat of a sunny Utuk day. He should be glad now he had been rescued, but he couldn’t find it in him to rejoice at all. Both his natural parents had rejected him now. Mayl had to have realised he was being sent away, yet hadn’t said a word. Arman.... Arman had refused to tell him the truth because he hadn’t wanted Karik to have a claim on him.
Yuko broke into his thoughts. “Now, lad, don’t look so downcast. Come along and meet my sons. They’re a bit on the boisterous side but they don’t actually bite. At least, they haven’t since they were toddlers,” he added with a smile. He laid a friendly hand on Karik’s shoulder, and Karik let himself be guided towards the private apartments, and towards a family who would never dream of behaving as Karik’s had done. He wondered if Yuko’s sons knew just how lucky they were.
~~~~~~~~
Arman rec
eived Yuko’s message with a jolt of relief. It truly was all over. “I should go down to the embassy and make arrangements—”
His father lifted his hand. “No, Arman, let them. Your ambassador can take care of the boy and the ship booking. He can let Kei know as well. If we have only a day or two with you left, let us enjoy it uninterrupted. For Tijus’s sake, if nothing else.”
“Yes, of course.” Though he didn’t want to put more work on Yuko’s overburdened shoulders, there was no denying the wistfulness in his father’s eyes, nor the sudden realisation in his own heart that this might actually be the last day which he would have to enjoy his father’s company. Even the joy of knowing he would not, after all, have to be separated from Kei for so long, was muted by this thought.
A messenger was sent back to request Yuko to book the two of them on the next available ship, and to ask if he would pass the message to Lord Meki and Kei. Arman would try to speak to his lover before he went, but it wasn’t so urgent now he was on his way home. Another message was sent to Tijus, telling him Arman was likely to be leaving soon.
His brother and his family arrived a couple of hours later, and Arman made a special effort to give as much of himself to them as he could. He had been stung by his brother’s pointed comments about the lack of contact, and he was conscious that he could have been more assiduous in his letters and invitations. Returning to Utuk still seemed impossible, given his situation and Kei’s, but he was determined to extract promises from all of them to visit within a year, and then as regularly as they could manage. His niece and nephew were growing into fine young people, and he wanted to be part of that as Kei was with his sister’s children.
He found himself, for the first time since he’d left Utuk sixteen years ago, actually regretting the decision to do so. Only a little, and he wouldn’t give up Kei or what he had achieved for anything, but the price had been high for all that. Kei—wise generous Kei—had known it, and had been more worried on his behalf than he’d been for himself. Would he have done things differently? Probably not. But he still wondered what it would have been like if he had.
Falling From the Tree (Darshian Tales #2) Page 31