Falling From the Tree (Darshian Tales #2)

by Ann Somerville

  “No, it d-doesn’t,” Karik said hastily, seeing Arman going into his defensive posture, metaphorically. “Two f-fathers is too c-confusing.”

  Arman smiled, the tension in his face disappearing instantly. “Certainly with Reji for a father, you aren’t in need of a second. Actually Kei says since I’m his partner, I should be your aunt.”

  Karik laughed, and then coughed, holding his side. “He’s silly.”

  “Yes, he certainly is.” The love in Arman’s eyes made them soft, taking the steely edge off them, and Karik wondered yet again how the man could have ever contemplated being separated from Kei for two whole years—and for a boy for whom he’d cared nothing. “I’ve got to visit the quarries tomorrow—fancy a trip out in the carriage? It’s near where they mine those stones you’re so fond of.”

  “T-Tero stones?” He put his hand in reflex over the one around his neck. He would love to see where they came from. “Yes, pl-please.”

  “Then we shall. You’ll have to stay with the vehicle but I don’t imagine you’ll mind.”

  “No. Th-thank you.”

  “You’re welcome. Now I’d better get back to work. Do you want to read there or at the desk?”

  “Here, pl-please?” As Arman handed him his book, and got him slightly more settled, Karik felt he had to ask. “D-Don’t you mind the trouble?”

  Arman wouldn’t look at him as he pulled a footstool over for Karik to use as a rest for things he might need to reach for. “You’re no trouble. I like it, in fact. I...once I was used to having company all the time. I’m sorry, Karik—I’m rather obviously reliving my time with Loke through you. It’s something I feel I need to do. Do you mind? I don’t wish to use you as a surrogate.”

  Karik reached out for Arman’s hand. “It’s g-good for both of us,” he said quietly.

  Arman patted his hand. “I hope so. As for the rest of it, you’re conducting yourself politely and causing no offence, and that’s all I expect. I’m as eager as Kei that you don’t waste your opportunity here. If I find you troublesome, I shall inform you.” He smiled to take the harshness out of his words. “Back to work.”

  “Yes, Uncle Ah-Arman.” Arman just smiled wider.

  Seeking Home: 23

  Two and a half months after Karik was released from the infirmary, it was Kei’s nephew who spotted them as they rode past the pujum mine to the north of the village. “Uncle Kei! Uncle Kei! Karik!” Keiji’s short legs powered him along to catch up with the cart Karik had slowed to a walk. Keiji jumped up into the riding seat and gave his cousin a hug. “You’re back!”

  “So I am,” Karik said, grinning.

  “Where is everyone, Keiji-ki?”

  “Ma’s with Pa at the mine. Ma! Kei’s here!”

  Arman was always amazed at how much bellow some children could produce—even quiet ones like Keiji—when they got excited. Over the mine, Myka waved, and then she, like her son, ran over to them. Kei handed his reins to Arman, and hopped off his mount. “You lot head to the stables—I’ll walk back with Myka.” He held his arms out so his sister could run into his embrace, and the siblings hugged enthusiastically.

  Myka granted them a quick look around her tall brother’s shoulder. “Karik, you’re well?”

  “I’m fine, aunty Myka. We’ll see you at the stables.”

  “Your parents should be there—I know Reji was a few minutes ago. Arman, you’re all at our house for supper.”

  “By your command, Lady Myka,” he said, giving her a little bow. She gave him a disgusted look and waved them away.

  Karik got the cart moving. “Have you got a big scar?” Keiji asked. “I’m really happy you’re back, Karik.”

  “So I can see, Keiji-ki,” Karik said, grinning at his young cousin’s enthusiasm.

  They were at the edge of the village in minutes. “Pa? Pa?” Karik called.

  Reji and Jena both came to the door of the stable, and then Jena was running up to the cart. Karik pulled it to a halt, set the brake and jumped down. Arman waited with the vehicle—he didn’t want to interrupt the reunion of mother and son. Jena was crying for happiness, and Reji hugged both his lover and son for well over a minute in wordless joy. Finally he lifted his head, saw Arman and walked over. Arman dismounted and held out his hand—Reji ignored it and instead pulled Arman into a hug. “Thank you for my son,” he said fiercely.

  “Thank you,” Arman said just as firmly.

  Reji stepped back and wiped his eyes. “Gods, I didn’t know if you would really turn up. So many things have happened.”

  “And yet it was the most uneventful trip imaginable,” Arman said, with as much lightness in his tone as he could infuse. “Can we get the beasts unhitched? I need a cup of tea, and then a big mug of beer.”

  Reji had already got the cart’s brake off and the beast’s reins in hand. “And where’s that good-for-nothing Kei?”

  “Talking to his long-suffering sister. He’ll be along in a minute.”

  Keiji had run off as soon as they’d stopped but now he was back with Meran in tow. “Karik!” Karik held out his arms and Meran ran to him—he swung her around easily, confirming what Arman had suspected, that Karik had put on a couple of inches in height since the beginning of the year.

  Jena came to Arman, and like her lover, pulled him into a hug. “Thank you,” she whispered. “For bringing him home, for saving his life.”

  “He saved mine, Jena. Kei will be here with Myka in a minute—are we staying with you?”

  She gave him a haughty look. “And where else, Lord Arman, would be suitable for his lordship’s lordly arse?”

  “Ah, I was forgetting my dignity. You will of course be waiting on me hand and foot, I hope.”

  “Of course,” she said sweetly. “Just as soon as Darshek Harbour ices over.”

  “Ah, thought there had to be a catch.” He grinned. “It’s good to be back, Jena.”

  “After this year, it’s good to have you. Doesn’t he look well? He’s taller too.”

  “Yes he is, and yes he does. You have a son to be proud of. A very fine boy indeed.”

  “Took you long enough to realise that,” she said with a sniff of disgust. “Come on, let’s get this damn cart unloaded.”

  ~~~~~~~~

  After the way he’d left the village four months before, Karik was a little overwhelmed at the joyfulness with which he was welcomed back, and not just by his immediate family and friends like Risa and Keiji and Meran. Every few yards he and his companions were stopped so someone or other could pass on their good wishes, to congratulate Arman and to express their delight that Karik was back. He had to admit it did him the world of good to know that everyone didn’t hate him.

  The number of people who wanted to greet them was simply too large even for Myka’s house, so it was easily decided to drop the packs and other items off, and to bring the box of books up to Fedor’s house, since most of the elders were clustered around trying to catch Kei’s attention or Arman’s or Karik’s. Sira greeted them all calmly, as if it was perfectly normal for twenty or more cheerful people to descend upon her home, and Fedor soon brought order to the proceedings as seats were found or bottoms simply rested on the ground.

  “Welcome home, my son,” he said, greeting Kei first as was tradition, with a handclasp and a hug. “And my lord Arman,” he added with a wink. “I hope our humble facilities are up to your majesty.”

  “Give it a rest, Fedor,” Pa muttered, which made everyone, including Arman, laugh.

  “I don’t think I need anyone to change their behaviour, Fedor. I should be disappointed if they did. I come here to leave Darshek behind. You rule in Ai-Albon, not I.”

  “And don’t you forget it,” Fedor said, a mock-severe expression on his face. “Karik, how are you, lad?”

  “I’m well, thank you.”

  Fedor nodded. “Damn glad to hear it. I tell you, we were all on tenterhooks waiting for news about your recovery.” There was a murmur of assent throughout the room.
“So I think we’d all be grateful if you could manage to stay in the village and unharmed for at least a month—give our hearts a chance to recover.”

  “I’ll try,” Karik said solemnly. Kei grinned at him.

  “So what’s this crate you’ve dragged to my house? Someone explain.”

  Arman got to his feet. “Ah, well, if I may, and if I can have your indulgence to slip briefly into my role as Ruler, as I have been personally charged with this duty by their lordships?” Fedor nodded. “Everyone, as you probably know, Karik was badly injured saving my life from a knife attack. The Rulers wanted to make a gesture of thanks to him, and have gifted this village with a fine set of books for your collective library. They wanted me to make sure you were all aware of his courage, and know he displayed coolness of thought and a willingness to place himself in harm’s way to protect another. I am very proud to do that now.”

  There was a little round of applause, and Meran gave him a hug with a whispered, “Well done, Ka-chi.” Karik found his face flushing hot, but he was pleased too. He was glad his parents had been here to see this.

  “Then on behalf of the village, please give our thanks to their lordships, and tell them that we are very proud to call Karik one of our own. Well done, Karik, and welcome home.”

  Karik stood and bowed, which got another little round of applause. He sat down, unable to stop smiling—his parents looked so proud of him.

  They spent a good two hours at Fedor’s house, drinking tea and eating sweet cakes. Everyone wanted to know the latest gossip from Darshek, and Kei and Arman wanted to know what had been going on in the village. Karik was content to just listen. He’d missed this—he hadn’t realised how much he’d missed it, for all he had really enjoyed the last two months of his time in Darshek. It was so good to see Meran and Keiji and Risa again. And everyone else, of course.

  He remembered they had brought a bolt of fancy cloth for Sira, and since he wanted a piss, he thought he would run back to their house, do the necessary and pick up the material. “Back in a few minutes,” he whispered to Meran.

  He nodded to Pa and mouthed the same words to him, and Pa nodded. The meeting would break up soon anyway because it was nearly suppertime. He had a couple of little things for Meran and Keiji too which he would like to give them.

  He was stopped twice to welcome him back and to receive good wishes, and he was able to tell the people greeting him where they could find Kei and Arman. Then he returned to his house, getting a little thrill of happiness from being back in the familiar setting again. He relieved himself of all the tea Sira had served them, then rummaged through the supplies they had brought from Darshek. For Meran, he had a polished tero stone, much finer than his own, though without the sentimental attachment, and for Keiji, a new belt made of braided lemul hide. He collected the items and the cloth, then walked up the street, now busy with people returning from work and the fields, returning to make and eat supper with their families.

  He acknowledged several more greetings, stopping to have a longer conversation with Urki who was very worried about him, and very happy to have him back. He reassured her he was fine, and told her Kei and Arman were at Fedor’s, but she was reluctant to join the gathering, which saddened him. She hadn’t been able to overcome the shame of her son’s actions, for which neither he nor Fedor held her responsible. She and Peit did their best with Jos—he was just wild.

  He bid her farewell and hurried on, wanting to catch the end of the meeting.

  “So you’re back.”

  He turned, and was unable to stop his stomach flip-flopping as he realised who had spoken to him. “Yes, I am,” he said as haughtily as he could.

  Jos came out of the shadows. Asa was behind him. He was only a few yards from Fedor’s house. He could run for it easily, but he wouldn’t let Jos see his fear. “Where did you get that stuff? Steal it?”

  “Do you ever listen to the rubbish that comes out of your mouth?” Karik snapped. “When did you ever hear of anyone, let alone me, stealing anything in the village?”

  “You’re a Prij. Everyone knows the Prij are thieves,” Asa sneered.

  “Everyone knows you’re a fool,” Karik retorted. “Don’t you have anything better to do with your time than make stuff up about me?”

  Jos took a step forward, his fist curled. “We’ve been working hard, not like you lazing around up north.”

  Karik nearly pointed out the only reason he’d gone north was because of these two and their friends, but he just shook his head in disgust. “Go home, Jos. You and I have nothing to say to each other, and you’re a fool.”

  Jos’s expression got ugly then and he took another step forward, his fist raised. Karik’s grip on the cloth tightened as he prepared to run, despite his earlier determination not to.

  But then Jos lowered his hand, and stepped back, his face wary. Karik blinked, wondering why he and Asa suddenly both looked rather worried. Then he realised they were looking past him—he risked a quick glance and saw that the meeting had indeed broken up. Now behind him, standing shoulder to shoulder in complete silence, their expressions determined and grim, were Kei, Arman, his Pa, Risa, Fedor, Rin, Lori, Banji, Nev—and beside them, were the women, looking just as fierce. Myka, Meran, his Ma, Sira, Meis, Pijli....

  “Hiding behind your Pa again,” Jos said with more bravery than common sense. “And pissing Arman.”

  Karik felt a heavy hand descend on one shoulder. Then a second hand, on his other shoulder. “That’s Lord pissing Arman to you, boy. If you have something to say to me, say it to my face. I don’t like the messages you leave with other people.”

  Asa tugged urgently on Jos’s sleeve, but the older boy straightened up. “You don’t scare me. You’re just a murdering Prij. They should have killed you when they had the chance.”

  Karik heard a sharp gasp from behind him, but no one spoke. “Is that it?” Arman said. “Is that what you wanted to say to me?” Jos seemed a little nonplussed at the lack of reaction, and nodded uncertainly. “Fine. Now I have a message for you. Karik is under the direct protection of the Rulers of Darshek. If you so much as breathe funny around him, you will answer to them. More than that, you hurt him again, and you’ll deal with me personally, if I have to chase you from one end of Darshian to the other to do it. Nobody lays a finger on him and gets away with it. Karik is my kin, my nephew and my friend.”

  “And mine,” he heard Kei say.

  “Karik is my son,” Pa said heavily. It was he who had his hand on Karik’s shoulder.

  “And my kin,” Banji said. “My nephew.”

  “He’s of my clan.” That was Risa, to Karik’s surprise. “My kin and my friend.”

  “My clan, my kin,” Fedor said.

  “He’s my friend, of my clan.”

  “My kin also.”

  One by one, every adult present at the impromptu meeting stepped forward to claim Karik, and then finally, Meran slipped between the others and came to the front. “Jos, go home. If you ever hurt Karik again, I’ll make your life a living hell. I’m going to be our healer one day, so don’t think I won’t.”

  That more than anything seemed to hit home to Jos. “Come on,” Asa muttered to his friend.

  But Jos still stood firm. “You’re still hiding behind all of them.”

  Karik handed Pa the bolt of cloth, shrugged the possessive hands off his shoulders and stepped forward. “No. I’m right here, out in front of them. You want to take a swing at me, go ahead. But then you live with the consequences, Jos. It won’t be me who hits you back.”

  He walked forward until he was just two paces from Jos. “You and I, we walk different paths. I don’t want your life, and you don’t want mine. Leave me alone and no one will interfere with you. I don’t want your girlfriends, I don’t steal your food. I do no harm to the clan. Go home, and leave me alone, and I promise to do the same.”

  “You’re a pissing Prij.”

  “Yes, I am, and proud of it. Go home, Jos.”
r />   Even with the adults arrayed behind him, even surely knowing that if Jos lifted a finger to hurt Karik, he would be knocked to the ground, Karik still wasn’t sure what Jos would do.

  After a tense few moments, the other boy finally spoke. “I hate you,” he spat.

  “Fine, then don’t invite me to your wedding. Go home. Asa?”

  “Jos, come on.”

  Karik waited until Asa had dragged Jos all the way back to his house before he turned around to look at his supporters. He was shaking with reaction. “I don’t think he likes me.”

  “Then don’t invite him to your wedding,” Kei said with a grin, before sweeping him up into a hug. “Gods, the balls on you, my boy.”

  “Balls of stone,” Arman said, smiling at Karik’s Pa. “Well done, Karik.”

  “I want to throw up,” he muttered.

  “You’ll be fine, son,” Pa said, laying a hand on his shoulder and smiling at him proudly.

  Karik looked around at all the people who had so publicly declared he was under their protection. “Thank you,” he said.

  “That was well handled, lad,” Fedor said. “But I’ll have a word with him and his parents later, see if we can’t find out why he’s so irrational. There must be some reason, don’t you think? Not just jealousy?”

  “He’s afraid. I don’t know why.”

  “Perhaps he thinks the Prij will steal his family away again,” Arman murmured, which make Kei look at him sharply.

  Fedor nodded. “You know, there could be something in that. Let me handle it. Everyone, thank you for coming. I’ll see you all tomorrow.”

  Reji ruffled Karik’s hair, and Karik stole the cloth away from him, running to Sira to give it to her. She gave him a hug and a kiss on the cheek. “Whatever that boy says, this will always be your home. Never think otherwise.”

  “I won’t. Thank you.”

  “Well,” Kei said cheerfully. “I want a beer. Myka?”

  “I knew you’d say that. I’ve laid down three casks just for you.”