Falling From the Tree (Darshian Tales #2)

by Ann Somerville

  “I d-don’t wuh-want t-to....” He was shaking now. What if he had to leave them? What if all this business meant he had to be banished in all but name, to spare them the harassment he was getting in person?

  “Shhh, son, don’t get worked up.”

  “I’m s-sorry, Pa.”

  “Nothing to be sorry for. Hush now.” Pa offered him his own handkerchief and kept a close hold on him until he could stop shaking, and his sight was no longer blurry with tears. “It was just something Kei thought might help, that’s all. We already told him we didn’t think you’d want to be away from us again, not so soon.”

  Karik nodded and sniffled, angry with himself for losing control. He was worse than a child. He started to get up from the box. “I sh-should go....”

  “No, wait a minute.” Pa kept a gently restraining arm around his shoulders to keep him seated. “We still have a problem with the way tempers are running now. Fedor says there’s nothing he can do about it until someone does something he can take note of, but there’s a lot happening short of that.” His father peered at him with concern. “How about this as a compromise? You come with Risa and me anyway, we’ll spend a week in Darshek and you come back with us then. That way you’ll be with us, but it gives things a chance to cool off. I don’t know that I’d be happy going north and leaving the two of you on your own for nearly two months, not right now. Your Ma might even come with us for a change. Or I could see if Lori will go with Risa this time.”

  “Ma? Do you th-think she m-might?”

  “Well why not? She’s always saying she wants to go north again, and it’s been ten years or more since she went to the academy. Would you like that?”

  Karik didn’t even have to think about it. “Yes. C-Can we?”

  His enthusiasm seemed to make his father happy. “Why don’t we go and ask her now? It’ll take a bit of juggling, but damn it, I think this could be just what we all need. Some time together, and alone. Your Ma could do with the holiday, I think. Yes, this is a good idea.” He grinned. “When we put our heads together, we make a great team, don’t you think?”

  “The b-best.” It was such a simple thing, but the thought of it made him the happiest he’d felt in more than a month. It was only delaying the problem, but maybe the problem wouldn’t be so bad when he got back—and this way, he wouldn’t have to see Arman, at least not until the summer.

  His bruises didn’t even seem to hurt so much, now he had something to look forward to.

  Seeking Home: 8

  “You know, I’d forgotten how much there is of Darshek,” Ma said as they began the final leg of their three week journey to the city, starting from the base of the mountain range to travel the long flat road to the harbour.

  “There’s more of it than when you were here last, Jena. People will keep moving here. I think the last thing I heard was they were going to tax new residents.”

  “So long as they keep them out of the dry regions, I don’t care what they do to them. Now all those buildings are new, I know that,” she said, pointing to a small settlement of houses, and the temple that Gyo had remarked on when Karik had travelled here the first time.

  “They call this bit ‘Little Utuk’ now. Prijian farmers, mostly, but there are some potters, glass blowers, that kind of thing. Kesa does some business with them, I believe.” Pa used the whip to point across a small farm to their right. “There, Karik, did you see those the first time? You were asking me about lemuls—there are some now, being taken across that field.”

  Karik craned his neck—the animals were a long way off, but he could tell they were bigger than jombekers, and heavier, with long necks and long ears. “F-Funny animals.”

  “Yes, they are, but damn useful. They don’t tolerate lack of water, though. They need it for the milk, I suppose. Kei said the Prij don’t drink the milk raw at all, which is a shame because it’s good stuff.”

  “Wuh-we had the cheese.”

  “Yes, you probably did. It makes very good cheese and butter, but I do like the milk. Pity we can’t keep one as a pet,” he said, winking at Karik’s Ma.

  “I won’t have one of those great hairy things in our garden,” she declared. “It was bad enough when Karik was in his hisk-keeping phase. We need the space for herbs, and I’m damned if we’re going to waste water on something like that. You’d do nothing but haul buckets from the pump all day.”

  “Yes, love, I’m only teasing,” Pa said, putting his arm around Ma’s shoulders and kissing her temple. She settled against him and smiled. It did Karik’s heart good to see them like this.

  It had been a wonderful trip, and even Risa was clearly enjoying himself. They hadn’t needed two extra people since they weren’t carrying anything like such large loads this time, but the companionship of his parents and the speed had meant the journey was a lot less boring this time around. Of course, with the spring now started, there was more to see, more plants, more animals, more colour and life. This time he had his father’s knowledgeable commentary, and the chance to discuss all he was seeing with his Ma, which he had so missed the first time.

  He had still been a bit achy when they’d left, but even with camping out, he was healing fast, helped by the massages with tirsel cream he had from Ma every night. She’d teased him about having his own personal healer just like the sovereign of Utuk, but she was relieved to see him getting better. Just being away from the village had taken a load off all them—the strain that had been a constant feature in his parents’ expressions disappeared within a day of them rolling the wagons out of Ai-Albon, and he immediately started to sleep better, for all the hardness of the camp beds and Risa’s soft snoring. He’d had hardly a single nightmare since they’d left.

  He had wondered how his mother would like the travelling, but she took to it like she was born to it, which surprised him a little until she explained she’d been born on a remote farm and had done many a long trip to Ai-Rutej when she had been a youngster. “Then of course I had to come all the way from there to Darshek to do my training, and there was also moving up to Ai-Albon with you, young man. So I’m not as feeble as you think I am,” she’d added, poking him on the nose and making him laugh.

  And now they were soon to be at Kei’s house. Knowing Arman was not going to be there took a lot of the anxiety away, and the only worry Karik had was that Kei would somehow hold him responsible for Arman’s anger. But he doubted Kei would—after all, why would he invite him to come stay if he was angry with him?

  There was no doubt Ma was happy at the thought of seeing her dearest friend again. Summers were always so much fun because Kei was there, and he and Ma were almost like brother and sister, they were so similar in the things they did and said. When Myka was with them, it would be impossible to say who was blood kin and who not, since Myka looked as little like Kei as Karik’s mother did. Things became very noisy with the three of them in the same room.

  The unloading and stabling of the beasts took less time with the smaller load they had brought up, and Pa snagged a lift as soon as they were ready to head towards the city. Karik and Ma sat at the back of a cart, their legs hanging over the edge as the vehicle trundled along the sea front. “Mmmm, smell that,” his mother said contentedly. “I really miss the sea. I went swimming a few times when I was studying, but it’ll be too cold this time of year. Arman will be freezing his balls off in Andon for sure. There’ll still be snow there even now.”

  Hard to imagine, with it already feeling warmer than early summer to Karik. They’d all shed their coats, and it was amazing to think they had been clustered around the stove of an evening before they’d left. “M-Ma, did you ever wuh-want to live here?”

  “In Darshek? Yes, I suppose I did once, on and off. When Kei and Arman left, I wanted to go with them, partly because I missed them both, and partly because I envied Kei having all those lovely books to himself,” she said with a smile. “But I don’t think I’d have enjoyed it much, and the village needs both of us. Kei leavin
g still meant we had two healers. If I left, there’d only be Myka, and your Pa is important to the village in all kinds of ways.”

  Karik nodded, even as his heart sank a little. It meant that if he ever did leave, he would have to do it alone. The thought still made him feel cold and sad inside.

  She was touching him, so she sensed his sadness. “Don’t fret, dear. Your happiness comes first with us. If we have to leave Ai-Albon to achieve that, we will.”

  “I don’t want you to leave if you don’t want to. I want to live there too.”

  “And you will, if that’s the best thing.” She pulled him close and kissed his forehead. “Just enjoy the time here. Things will work out, I’m sure of it.”

  He wasn’t sure at all, but he wanted her to enjoy herself here so he pushed the dark thoughts aside, and concentrated on all the sights and sounds he’d had so little time to enjoy the first time he’d come here. Same as for the dry regions, spring had come to Darshek too, but because of the warmth and the rain, the modest blush of growth boasted by the plains was a riot of colour and scents here, with flowers growing in gardens, in the fields and even trailing up into the trees, extravagantly green with their new leaves. The people, too, seemed new-dyed in their light spring clothing, cut from much brighter colours than were worn by the villagers. He had to admit it was all invigorating, exciting even, and he half wished they would have longer than a week before returning. His father hadn’t set a definite limit on their stay, but they would have to return with the goods and supplies that the village needed within a reasonable period. It would be unfair on Myka to make her handle the village’s needs on her own indefinitely.

  His mother twisted to speak to Pa, riding with Risa and the driver. “Kei’s at the house, Neka says.”

  “And he has no idea?”

  “Not the slightest.”

  Karik looked at his mother, who grinned. “Wait and see,” she said, putting her finger to her lips.

  They were dropped off at the bottom of the road a few minutes later and they walked up to the house. This time, now he knew the secret of how it was done, Karik wasn’t surprised Kei flung open the door to greet them. But it was clear he hadn’t been told everything. “Jena! What in hells?” He ran down the path and swept her up into his arms and swung her around as she laughed in delight. “Why...Neka!”

  Karik heard a chuckle in his mind. “She told me to keep it quiet, Kei.”

  “You damn women,” Kei said, shaking his hand in the air. “Gods, it’s so good to see you, Jena. You too, Risa, and Reji,” he added to Pa, grinning like a fool at the joke on his friend. “Oh, Karik,” Kei said, hooking him with an arm and pulling him close so he could hug Karik and Ma at the same time. “Are you all right? You look well.”

  “He’d be all right if you’d let us into the house to sit down,” Jena said cheekily.

  “Oh, of course. Gods, Pira will have a stroke.”

  But Pira just smiled and greeted them all warmly, so Karik had a suspicion that she’d had rather more warning about his Ma’s arrival than Kei had done. Packs were dumped and tea and sweet cakes produced in short order as they crowded into the kitchen. Kei insisted Ma sat on one side of him, and Karik on the other. “What on earth possessed you to come up here, Jena?”

  “Well, someone has to keep an eye on you since his lordship is off playing with the Andonese.”

  Kei shook his head mock-ruefully. “Damn, and here I was expecting to run nightly orgies.”

  “We’ll need to order more food if you want to do that,” Pira said sedately as Pa laughed, and then laughed harder at Kei’s shocked face. “I’m used to you now, my boy.”

  “Dear oh dear, I’ve finally corrupted everyone,” he said, his hand placed dramatically over his breast. “Are you all just here for the week? Don’t tell me you’ve come all this way only to stay such a short time.”

  “I don’t have much choice. Your sister’s awfully good to hold things together for as long as she’s agreed to. So just make the most of it while we’re here.”

  “Oh, I will. Pira, where will they all sleep, for goodness’ sake? Reji, I’ll put you in my bed, I think.”

  “Not for the first time,” Ma said sweetly, sipping his tea.

  Karik was amazed to see a slow blush started to burn up Kei’s cheeks, right up to the tips of his ears, and when he looked at his father, Pa was shaking his head at his Ma. “Jena, you’re incorrigible. Kei, we don’t need the big bed.”

  “Oh, you’re welcome to it—shut up, Jena—it feels so damn lonely without him. I’ll share with Risa-ki and Karik and you two can have mine.”

  Jena cuddled close to him. “Has it been hard? I know how much I hate it when Reji’s away, but I’m used to it by now.”

  “I absolutely loathe it,” Kei said with feeling. “It’s not as bad as when he was in Utuk and I didn’t know if he was coming back, but, gods.” He shook himself, and put a forced-looking smile on his face. “But now I’ve got you all at least for a week. Tell me everything. Tell me about this business with Peit’s boy first.”

  As Pa told the story, Kei held Karik’s hand and that of his Ma. Strangely, this helped Karik stay calm as the miserable story was revealed. “That Jos is a mystery to me,” Risa said heavily as his partner finished. “I mean, Peit’s just a gentle giant and I know Urki can get a bit emotional, but neither of them would harm a flea. Well, unless Peit could kill and skin it,” he added with a little grin.

  “Urki punched me to the ground when I was ten. But I punched her first so it was only fair,” Kei said, squeezing Karik’s hand. “You’re right—the boy is nothing like them in that respect. Strange how young Karik takes after you two so much, and a child actually born to Peit and Urki can be so different.” He shook his head. “Maybe he’ll grow out of it.”

  “And maybe he pissing won’t,” Pa said angrily. “I’m so ashamed of people in that village right now. They’re talking about Karik like he’s the one who’s done wrong, and he’s worth ten of them at the very least. What in hells does it matter that he’s Prijian?”

  Karik flushed. “Excuse m-me,” he said, pulling free of Kei’s grip and making his way out of the kitchen. He couldn’t listen to this any more, and he now wished Kei had waited a little longer to ask about it all.

  He used the washroom, and then made his way out to the garden, finding a seat on the stone bench next to the wall that was catching the late sun nicely. Like the rest of the city, it was ablaze with colour and new life, and though Kei had planted most of the bushes and flowers for their medicinal value, still there was plenty of beauty, and the birds delved busily among the plants for insects and grubs. It was so much simpler just to think about nature, the way everything fitted together in an endlessly renewing cycle. People were so much harder to understand, and so much more unpredictable. Krak-kraks and carchos didn’t hate their prey—they killed to eat and to feed their youngsters. It wasn’t like Jos had been planning to eat him.

  He gave a slightly wobbly laugh at the idea of Jos skinning him and taking him home to butcher, like his father did with wild jombekers. He leaned back against the wall. It wasn’t funny really. He was just sick of being upset and frightened. These past weeks had been so wonderful, being able to forget about it for a while, and not just that—all that had happened before it. Right now, if he’d had to choose where he felt less welcome, he couldn’t have decided between Utuk and the village. It was strange how he actually felt safer in Darshek than he did in either of the other two places. Maybe he should be a traveller like Pa and just keep moving. That way, no one could take offence because he wouldn’t be around long enough to give any.

  He should go back inside. His mother would be worried, and at the very least, it was rude of him, although it gave the adults a chance to speak about him which he knew they wanted to do. But he just couldn’t make himself do so. The sun was nice, the seat was comfortable, and he just didn’t want to think about any of it.

  He half-dozed in the sun, still
deliciously warm on his face though the length of the shadows meant it would be sunset in an hour or less. This was such a cosy place, nothing like Senator Mekus’s garden in Utuk, which was enormous and formal but without the sprawling charm that came when you put plants in for interest and not for the sake of their perfect shape. The garden at his home was a bit like this, but the plants of the dry regions tended to be less bountiful with their leaves and flowers, except for the brief periods of the year when they pushed all their energy into blooming, or setting seed. His Ma’s plants were grown in tidy rows for easy access, but someone—Kei?—had managed to mix utility with beauty here. Maybe he could try and do the same with their garden when he got back.

  He heard footsteps and turned to see Kei coming up the little pathway. “I see you’ve found my favourite spot. No, don’t get up. Reji and Jena are having a bath, and Risa is talking to Pira. I’ve got you all to myself.”

  He sat down next to Karik, leaned his head against the wall and closed his eyes with a sigh. “Ah, this is nice. Sometimes whole weeks, even months, go by, and I haven’t made time to just sit and enjoy the garden like this. I always seem to be out here cutting plants and flowers for work, but I can’t seem to manage to just...be.”

  He laid his hand on Karik’s shoulder and Karik felt a sense of peace wash over him. “I’m s-sorry for wuh-walking out.”

  “I don’t blame you a bit. It’s an ugly story, and I’m sure you’d like to just forget about it. I think it was wise of you to come up with your parents, let some of the heat go out of the situation, but you know and I know that the situation itself won’t change, not in the short term at least. I won’t insult your intelligence by saying Jos is likely to change any time soon, though he might acquire some wisdom as he gets older and learns more about life.”

  “It’s n-not just J-Jos. Everyone...t-talks about me. Wuh-when I came back, it was l-like I was a s-stranger.”

  “Yes, I can imagine it was difficult, with all the rumours that were probably flying around. The village has always been a gossip engine. I wish I’d been there to help. Damn it, that’s the worst thing about living here and not there. When my family are hurt, I can’t do anything.” He rubbed Karik’s shoulder comfortingly. “Reji says you were having nightmares. Has that got any better?”