Arman suggested they play another game, though Karik found it as bewildering as the first time. He feared he really didn’t have a head for this kind of thing. He’d never thought of himself as a strategist. He lost again, and sighed.
“Never mind, son, Loke could never pick it up either. He wasn’t someone who lived in the future.”
“Was he cl-clever?”
Arman began setting the pieces out carefully again, though Karik sensed it was just to give his hands something to do. “He was very bright. Observant, assessing. He liked to watch people, how they interacted. He was fascinated by the games they played.” He laughed a little. “Perhaps that was why he had no patience with board games.” He suddenly swept the pieces off the board and into the little leather sack, then took the board from Karik’s knees. “And I think, perhaps, neither do you,” he said with a rueful smile.
“I’m sorry.”
“It’s all right. Kei plays with me, and your father does from time to time, though he’s not much for games either. I can survive without another opponent. Your strengths, like Loke’s, lie elsewhere. Are you feeling up to this? Do you want to go inside?”
Karik shook his head. He was a little tired, but the idea of going back to his bed was distinctly unappealing. “This is g-good.”
“It is, isn’t it?” Arman tipped his head back and stared up at the sky. “The last time I did this was in Utuk. Seems like a very long time ago.” He looked at Karik. “I never bothered to ask you what it was like for you.”
“I hated it. I couldn’t go out, and Mekus and Mykis scared me. My mother...I didn’t understand her at all. She cried when I arrived, but then she didn’t say goodbye.”
Arman stared at him for several moments, which make Karik feel distinctly uncomfortable since he couldn’t tell what the man was thinking. But finally he sighed. “As you said, quite rightly, I am at least partly, if not wholly responsible for that. I’m truly sorry.”
Karik nodded. It was an old wound now, and one that didn’t actually hurt any more. He had moved on. “Doesn’t matter. It’s over and done with.”
“You forgive me? Just like that?”
“Yes.”
Arman stared at him a little longer, then nodded. “Then I’m glad. I’m sorry too for how I’ve handled this business. I’m...not good with emotional things. That whole time after Loke died was very painful. I think if Karus had not been there to keep me sane, I would have killed myself. Fortunately, I didn’t,” he added dryly, “and Kei helped me the rest of the way back to sanity.”
If his mother had loved Arman as she claimed, then she would have known how much he was suffering, but she either hadn’t known or hadn’t cared. And Karus had died not long after Loke. No wonder Arman had not wanted to take on the care of a child he didn’t believe was his own. Realising that, the last sting of the rejection disappeared. Arman had just been struggling to cope with too much grief, but he’d still made sure a baby who meant nothing to him had found a good home. The best home, Karik told himself sternly. He had the best parents in the whole world.
He looked at Arman now. The man was trying to lay himself bare, but it hurt, it was obvious. And really, did Karik have a right to these intimate secrets? No, he didn’t. Arman didn’t owe him that. All Arman had owed him was what he had given him. “T-Tell me....” He saw how Arman’s shoulders tensed, waiting for the next strike on an injured soul. “About Ah-Andon.”
All the breath whooshed out of his companion, who blinked at him. “Andon?”
“Yes. Andon.”
“But I thought you wanted to know....”
“Ah-Andon. Please?”
Arman frowned. “Are you annoyed with me?”
“No. I just don’t want to hurt you any more. Besides, I’d really like to hear about Andon, unless you’re busy and want to go back. I’ll understand if you do,” he added, giving Arman what he hoped was an earnest look.
“I’ve set this time aside for you, but are you sure you’re not just humouring me, perhaps because of Kei? It’s not necessary to do so, you know.”
Arman was retreating behind his defences again, but this time, Karik knew what was going on. He reached out his hand, and Arman took it automatically, the way he had every time Karik had needed something, someone to cling to as he fought the fever and the illness of infection. “No, I’m not. I’d just like to know about Andon.”
Arman stared a little longer, but he still kept hold of Karik’s hand. Finally he cleared his throat. “Very well. I suppose, being you, you’re most interested in the animals and plants. They’re very different....”
Seeking Home: 21
Though he had put a cheerful face on it, Arman had not been looking forward to the conversation with Karik. He’d agreed to it only because he sensed it was his last and best chance of defeating the ghosts which forever seemed to block his path to a normal relationship with the boy. He hadn’t really known what to expect but what he had certainly not expected was this graciousness, nor the consideration. He certainly hadn’t expected to have an intelligent and quite learned discussion about the economics of Andon society, in which he forgot entirely to whom he was speaking, and conversed as if with Lord Meki, making no concessions and expecting none.
Since they had used Neka’s mind link to talk, it was only when Karik switched to voice after a long period, and began to cough, that Arman remembered he was talking to an invalid, and a young one at that. “I beg your pardon. You must be tired.”
The boy shook his head emphatically. “Not at all. This is the best I’ve felt in days.”
“Considering how sick you were, I’m not sure that’s necessarily as strong an argument as it might be.” He reached up and felt Karik’s forehead—cool. And his colour was still good, though the way he was shifting meant he was uncomfortable. “Perhaps we should get you back inside.” Oh, this child had his uncle’s trick of using his eyes to good effect. “All right—another half an hour, no more. I don’t want Kei to come after me.”
That earned him a brilliant smile. “Thank you.”
“When did you find the time to learn so much about Andon?”
“The tutor...in Utuk...taught me some, and then the books here in the library.... I love the library.”
“So do I. It’s a very fine one indeed, though I believe the one in Urshek to be even bigger.”
“I want to go there...only I want to go home too.”
“And therein lies your dilemma. Kei faced exactly the same choice, and I’d be lying if I said he didn’t pay a heavy price for following his talents up here. But then, if you look at all he’s done, it’s hard to wish he had stayed a simple village healer in Ai-Albon. You should enjoy your family and your childhood while you can. Kei took a good year to make his decision to leave, and he was older than you when he did. You’re not wasting your time, clearly. I wonder that you did not want to be a healer like Jena.”
Karik gestured at his mouth. “I did. But it would take too long to find out what was wrong with the patient.”
“But you’re defeating the stammer—won’t that make a difference?”
“I’ll still be a Prij. Some people will never trust me.”
“You don’t think that might change now the country has me as a Ruler?”
The look he got was withering. “It was because you were made a Ruler that Jos nearly killed me.”
Arman really couldn’t argue with that. “I’m sorry.”
Karik shrugged. “I-idiots everywhere.”
“Yes, they are. I faced a bit of hostility in the village, not as much as you might expect, but considering the things I’d done, it was amazing I wasn’t murdered in my sleep. It would have been all I deserved.”
“Kei says you should forgive yourself.”
Arman looked at the boy in surprise. “I know he does. So does Loke’s mother. What do you think?”
“I think...if you don’t want to end up like Jik, you have to.”
“You understand the t
hings I’ve done? It wasn’t just killing that boy. I’ve killed dozens of people, ordered many more killed in the name of the Prij. Many Darshianese families grieve because of me. Many would do as Jik did, given half a chance.”
“We...made you R-ruler,” Karik whispered. “What more do you wuh-want?”
“I’m being greedy, is that what you’re saying?”
Karik tilted his head, then nodded, although he smiled a little. Arman had to laugh at that. “Perhaps you’re right. Perhaps it’s ungracious to throw the acceptance I have received back at people. But now we really should....” Karik pleaded again with his eyes. “You need to rest, you know that.”
“Just a few more minutes?”
Arman tsked. “Such a troublesome child.”
“Not a ch-child.”
“Hmmm, perhaps you’re right. After all I wasn’t all that much older than you when I went into the army.”
Karik picked at the sleeve of his nightshirt. “I wanted to ask you to help me learn more Prijian, but....”
“But?”
Karik met his eyes. “You seemed irritated with me in Utuk, even before.... Did I say the wrong thing to your father? I didn’t mean to.”
“No, you didn’t say the wrong thing. If anything, the problem was that you spoke too well.”
“I don’t understand.”
“No reason why you would, when it’s to do with my own eccentricity. It was just a surprise to see you look and sound so Prijian. I thought your Ma was going to kill me, and I...thought perhaps you had been spoiled by Mekus.”
Karik gave him such a disgusted look, Arman felt quite chastened. “I h-hated Mekus.” “But I had Prijian jammed down my neck for a month, how could I not learn it?”
“You couldn’t. But why do you want to learn it now?”
“Kei says it’s useful. But if you don’t want to teach me, I could ask Lorus.”
“Lorus? The Prijian boy who was talking to you earlier? Well, we could both teach you. I don’t have a lot of free time, however much I might want to help.”
“But you won’t be angry with me if I learn it?”
“No, Karik, I promise not to be so childish. My father said you had a right to know of your heritage, and speaking the language is the very least you are entitled to. You can be Prijian and Darshianese at the same time, just as Karus was, I suppose. If people are going to keep mistaking you as Prijian, you may as well know what it means.”
“I am D-Darshianese.”
And he had thought Karik such a harmless child—the way his eyes flashed with anger now made him look quite fierce. “Certainly you are,” Arman said pacifically. “So am I,” he said, flipping the tail of his braid at Karik. “Though Kei insists until I let Pira bathe with us, I won’t really be.”
The fierce look disappeared and was replaced by a rueful grin. “Kei’s silly.”
“Sometimes. My point is that we straddle two races. Learn the Prijian language, if you have a taste for it, and the history, for there is much to be proud of. Take the values that you personally agree with from both cultures, and become your own man. Don’t let anyone—Mekus, me, or even Kei—tell you who to be.” Karik nodded, then shifted again. It was perfectly clear that he had been sitting on a hard bench for quite long enough. “Right, now I am taking you inside, no arguments.”
Karik sighed, but as Arman went to pick him up, he put up a hand. “Board,” he whispered.
“Oh. I can’t....” But the lad wanted to balance the kezi board and the sack of pieces on his lap. “Very well. You’re not really that meek or mild at all, are you?”
“No, but I never claimed to be.”
“No, I suppose you did not. Perhaps you just seem quiet with all the noisy people around you.”
“Who can get a word in edgeways with my parents or Kei around?”
Arman smiled, recalling just how loud Jena and Reji and Kei got when they were together. “Exactly. Unfortunately, once you leave here you will have to make yourself heard over the top of them, as Neka can’t offer mind speech to you in the village.”
“I’ll m-manage,” Karik said dryly
“You know, I rather suspect you will.” Arman had a feeling that even quiet and stammering as he was, Karik of Ai-Albon would make his voice heard in a good many places.
Kei was working busily at his makeshift desk, and affected surprise at seeing them. “I was just going to come and rescue you,” he said brightly.
“He doesn’t need rescuing,” Arman said, pulling a face at his lover as he set Karik gently down on the bed.
“I didn’t mean Karik,” Kei retorted, sticking his tongue out. “Let me go and fetch all the bedding you’ve left strewn all over the garden.”
“He’s such a nag,” Arman muttered, sitting behind Karik to support him until the pillows were fetched. He saw Karik’s hand clenching into a fist, but respected the boy’s privacy to deal with the pain. If it didn’t pass by the time Kei returned, Kei would deal with it.
But Karik’s hand uncurled before Kei came back. “Feeling better?”
Karik nodded. “Did it hurt like this when you were injured?”
“Let me see—do you want to howl and pound the ground to try and make it stop?”
“Um—a bit....”
“Then I guess it did. Kei saved my life. A good many others too. He’s amazing when he’s working.”
He’s amazing all the time. But also silly.”
“He certainly is.”
“Who certainly is what?” Kei said, coming in with his arms full of pillows and blankets. He and Arman carefully set them around Karik, and the way the boy sank back against them gratefully told Arman he’d got him inside no later than he should have.
“You. An amazing idiot.”
“Charming. Perhaps I’ll take myself off and annoy someone else.” What he actually did was check Karik very thoroughly and question him about the amount of pain he was in. “Hmmm, you need to not overdo it. Not like this other ‘amazing idiot’ did when he was hurt. The trouble he caused me, honestly.”
Karik smiled, but it was clear he was very tired. Arman laid his hand on the boy’s forehead. “I think a nap might be a good idea. I have to go and attend to some business, but I’ll be back for supper. We could have a lesson then.” Karik nodded.
“Lesson?” Kei looked at him curiously.
“Karik has asked for my help in improving his Prijian. I think it’s an excellent idea.”
Arman had the pleasure of rendering his voluble lover speechless for a change, and took advantage of it to give him a quick kiss. “See you both later.” He tucked the kezi board under his arm, and strode out, grinning.
He ended up being collared by Lord Peika as he walked back to his office, who quizzed him quite thoroughly about Karik’s health and his own mental state, before dragging Arman back to his own office to look over some plans. It was quite late before he got free, but Karik was still asleep when he returned.
Kei put his finger to his lips and signalled for them to step outside, before leading them back to the dining hall. Arman was rather sick of institutional food and longed for Pira’s good, plain cooking, or failing that, what the Rulers’ House kitchen could provide. There was an excellent cook in charge there. Only one more night, he hoped. “I’ll feed Karik later, but I didn’t want to wake him. The poor lad’s exhausted. What on earth did you do to him?”
“Me? I did nothing. I’m the one who needs the rest. He’s quite the challenging companion.”
“You should feel what I feel, Arman. You’re radiating contentment—you both were when you came back, although he was tired and in pain. What did you talk about?”
Arman held the door of the dining hall open for Kei. “Everything, pretty much. I don’t know why you didn’t tell me the boy had a brain.”
Kei gave him the look that stupidity deserved. “Took you long enough to realise it,” he said disgustedly. A servant came rushing over to them and bowed to Arman. “Just whatever’s goi
ng, please,” Kei told the man, and then they took a seat by the windows, giving them a view of the setting sun over the harbour. He reached for Arman’s hand and held it across the table. “Whatever you said, or he said, I’m happy for you. Have you settled everything about Mayl and the whole giving him up for adoption thing?”
“So it seems. I can’t say her attitude towards him won’t give him some pain in the future, but he forgives me for what I did. He seems to understand why. I supposed I never believed a child could.”
“He’s no child, Arman. Surely you accept it now.”
“Yes, I do. But I told him to enjoy what’s left of his childhood. Don’t be in too much of a hurry to drag him into the world of care. He’s had enough of that for one year.”
“He certainly has. Jena spoke to me—we were discussing when and how he should go home. Reji is all set to come up specially, but Karik would like to stay until we go back. Unless you object, that’s what I’d like. I know that’s our holiday together,” he said, raising Arman’s hand and kissing it in apology, “but I thought we could stay a little longer this year, because you’ve been away so long.”
“I was going to suggest that myself. And yes, of course he should stay. He’s been putting his time to good use, that much is obvious. We...that is, I....”
Kei grinned. “You want to get to know him better?”
“Is it that obvious? I’ve spent so long taking the wrong approach. I want to make amends. I owe him that and...I owe Loke that.”
“Arman.”
“It’s all right It’s not that I’m thinking of who Karik might be, it’s what you said about seeing how Loke might have flowered given the same opportunities. I suppose it’s selfish to use him that way.”
Kei kissed his hand again. “It would be selfish if we both didn’t know how much you and he would benefit from it. Don’t feel guilty over something so wholly good. I’m proud of you. Not that I’m not always that, but today....” He leaned closer. “I’ll reward you in my preferred fashion,” he whispered, an evil glint in his wonderful eyes, “but not while we’re staying in the infirmary.”
Falling From the Tree (Darshian Tales #2) Page 61