Falling From the Tree (Darshian Tales #2)

by Ann Somerville

  He stuffed his feet into his boots, and caught a glimpse of something on a shelf, long and coiled up, which was probably what he was looking for. He pulled himself up and used the wall to support himself as he investigated. He picked the belt up—only to find, to his shock, that it wasn’t his belt at all, but a long hair braid, tied at one end with a ribbon, and the other with the kind of thong most of the Darshianese used on their hair. What was this...?

  “You pissing little bastard! Put that down!” The braid was ripped from his hands and he was shoved back hard against the wall. He cried out as his arm banged the wood, then he cringed back as it looked like Nym was going to strike him. “Who gave you leave to touch that? Why aren’t you in bed? You leave our things alone!”

  Jembis was dragged up roughly and pushed towards the bed. “I’m sorry—I want to go...I was looking for my belt....”

  “Your belt? Does this look like a belt to you, you ignorant little shit?” Nym was red-faced in his fury, screaming at Jembis in a way that reminded Jembis sickeningly of his father. Nym went to a side-table, yanked out a drawer and flung some things from it to Jembis. “There’s your pissing belt, your pissing purse and your pissing knife. Take them, get out, and leave us alone.”

  Jembis grabbed the things and hastily piled them all into his open pack. “I’m really—”

  “Get out!”

  He clumsily picked up his pack and stumbled out of the room. He had no idea where he was, and nowhere to go—but from the look on Nym’s face, he’d be killed if he stayed there. He really had no choice but to leave and pray to the gods for the protection they’d managed to avoid giving him until now.

  ~~~~~~~~

  Nym shook with his rage and his grief as he cradled the precious braid against his cheek. “I’m sorry, he won’t touch it again, I’m sorry....”

  He collapsed onto a chair, tears streaming down his face and wetting the braid. How dare that pissing little shit touch this, violate the only thing Nym had left of his beloved brother. He wept, holding the braid like he was holding Eido himself in his arms, rocking it as if Eido was still there and could get some comfort. But it was Nym who needed comfort, needed Eido, and who had neither. And never would again.

  Slowly, as the storm of weeping eased, so did his anger, though he kept the braid tightly in his fingers, unwilling to let it go even a little. Had that boy really been going to steal it? But now Nym was calmer, he realised Jembis had probably been telling the truth about that, if nothing else—he’d been looking for his stuff, and had only been curious. Darshianese braids were worth nothing to the Prij. The boy would have seen it as mere trash, not worth stealing.

  And now he was calmer, he realised he had done something rather dreadful—Joti had said Jembis was nowhere near fit enough to leave, and was still concerned about his head and arm, though the fever had passed, and there had been no infection. The healer had been very insistent that Jembis was not to walk around, or stand for any length of time at all—the concussion had been a bad one, and the boy could have easily have died if he’d not been found.

  And Nym had just thrown him out without any thought of his well-being at all. His parents would be horrified—Jaika would murder him, if Joti didn’t beat her to it. Nym would have to get the little bastard back somehow.

  He stood, ready to go looking, but his plan to be discreet was blown by Jaika, who came into the room, looked around in surprise and asked, “Where’s Jembis?”

  “Ran away,” Nym lied, ashamed even as he said it. “I went out to do something, and came back—he was gone.”

  “Oh—we have to find him! Nym, why are you holding Eido’s braid?”

  “He knocked it down—I picked it up, that’s all.” He placed the braid carefully back on the shelf, rearranged the single perfect blossom that his mother had laid on it that morning. “Come on—he won’t have got far.”

  “We need Ma and Pa,” she said, but he shook his head.

  “No need to bother them—if we don’t find him soon, then he’s probably all right and doesn’t need us.”

  She looked doubtful, but ever grateful for any distraction or excuse to get out of the house, she followed him. “You go south, I’ll go north,” he said. “Give it an hour, then come back here.”

  “But what if we don’t find him?”

  “Then we don’t,” he said bluntly. “He’s going to leave at some point, Jaika. Get moving.”

  “You don’t have to be so rude. You’ve been horrible to me lately.”

  He shooed her off, but as he searched along the street, checking down the side alleys and in the storefronts, he wondered if she was right—had he been unusually nasty to her lately? He hadn’t really been paying much attention to things like that. Since Eido had died, the only emotions he’d felt had been grief and anger. When he wasn’t feeling those, he just felt cold and dead inside. Nothing touched him unless it reminded him of his pain—so many things did. He hadn’t thought Jaika had borne the brunt of his feelings, though. He hardly saw her these days, tied up as he had been with this stupid Jembis.

  He sighed. Time to worry about that later. Where had this idiot run to? He couldn’t have gone far. Nym felt ashamed of his fit of anger, which made him even less well disposed towards their patient—he’d never behaved like that towards anyone in his life. He could almost understand why someone would have got mad enough to beat the shit out of Jembis, nosy little bastard, even though it was completely wrong to have actually done it.

  A flash of white among the reds, blues and greens worn by the normal Utuk residents caught his eye and he turned. There the boy was, propping himself up discreetly beside a shop, hiding in the shadows. Nym strode over, and felt a fresh burst of shame at the way Jembis cringed, shaking, at the sight of him. “You have to come back. People will be worried.”

  “No. Leave me alone. I won’t go back to be beaten by you or anyone.” Though he had trouble even standing, he jutted his chin out defiantly. “I don’t need you. Go away.”

  “You might not need me, my lad, but you need someone. Prefer the soldiers, would you?” The sharp fear in the boy’s confused eyes was all the answer he needed. “Thought not. Look—I won’t hurt you. You made me angry, that’s all. I’ve never hit anyone and I never will.”

  “You shoved me.”

  “Shove, yes. Hit—no. Not like whoever did this to you. Come on. I’m not arguing with you—it’s me or the soldiers.”

  Jembis tried to stand up straighter, but only succeeded in proving how shaky he was. He looked a complete fright, his trousers falling down and the nightshirt half hanging out. Nym picked up the dropped pack, then seized Jembis carefully under his good arm and tugged—he didn’t have to work too hard, though it was clear from the expression on his companion’s face that he wasn’t welcome. He doesn’t want to go and I don’t want to take him. Marvellous.

  They were only a few hundred yards from the house, and even with having to half carry Jembis, they were back in minutes. Unfortunately, they were spotted—his mother was coming out of the kitchen. “Nym! What are you doing with Jembis? He shouldn’t be out of bed,” she scolded.

  Nym opened his mouth to tell her the truth, but a quiet voice forestalled him. “I went out, madam. I’m sorry.”

  He looked at Jembis in shock, but his mother, having no reason to disbelieve him, just tutted. “Silly lad—that knock to your head must have addled you more than we thought. Nym, get him straight back to bed, and then, young man, I want you to eat something. You’re skin and bones.”

  “Yes, madam. I’m sorry.”

  She touched his cheek. “Now, now, don’t get upset. It’s not your fault you’re hurt. Nym, hurry up. I’ll bring a tray into the room in a few minutes. I just need to tell your father what I’m doing.”

  “Yes, Ma,” Nym said meekly. “Come on, Jembis.”

  The boy was really shaking by the time Nym got him to the back room and on the bed again. Shivering, actually—and the thought that he’d made the lad w
orse with his intemperate actions, made Nym be far more gentle than his inclination, taking the boots off, and the trousers which looked as if their owner had fallen down at least once while wearing them. He covered the boy up, and, realising Jembis’s hands were dirty, probably from falling, fetched a cloth and a wash basin from the side table, then wiped Jembis’s fingers clean. The boy wouldn’t look at him—he was grimacing and wincing in pain, though whether from his head or his arm or something else, Nym didn’t know. “Why did you lie? You didn’t have to lie to her,” he said, trying to be as careful as he could as he wiped around the injured hand.

  Jembis turned his head to him. “Didn’t want you to get into trouble. It was my fault.”

  “A bit. But I shouldn’t have thrown you out. You just got me mad.”

  “I didn’t know, I swear. I was looking for my belt.” Jembis’s face crumpled. “I really didn’t mean to upset you.”

  “Hey—don’t cry. Oh, hells.” Nym used the cloth to wipe away the tears trickling down the boy’s pale face. “Come on, stop that—Ma will wonder what’s wrong. I’m sorry I frightened you.”

  Jembis bit his lip and turned his face away, but the tears still fell in a dribble down his cheek. Nym felt helpless—what could he do to make him less distressed, when it had been Nym himself who’d caused it?

  “Now, here’s a bowl of Lomi’s best...Nym, what’s wrong?” His mother came closer to the bed. “Jembis, dear, what’s the matter?”

  Nym answered since Jembis didn’t seem to want to. “I think he’s just a bit overtired, Ma. Why don’t you leave me to feed him and keep him company?”

  She set the tray down and felt Jembis’s forehead. “Warm again. You really should have stayed in bed, son. When Jaika gets back, I’ll send her for Joti. Jembis, is there anyone we can fetch for you? Your parents? Employer?”

  Jembis shook his head a little bit then winced. “No, madam. I’m sorry.”

  “Now, don’t keep apologising, my dear. You rest and let my son look after you.” She gave Nym a stern look. “Don’t you let him run off again. He’s not up to it.”

  “No, Ma. I won’t.” He hated lying to her, and would have confessed, but he got the feeling that would just upset Jembis more. “Jaika went off to look for him—don’t be mad at her when she gets back.”

  “No, of course not. Though I might have to ask her where she was all morning, since she left me to mind the shop again.” She bent and kissed Jembis on the cheek. “Cheer up, dear. You’re safe and we’re not letting you out of here until you’re completely well.”

  Jembis seemed rather stunned at the ordinary gesture—Nym couldn’t help but wonder if that was a clue to what his true situation was. His mother left them alone, and he sat again, bowl of soup in his hand. “You should eat, like she said. You need it to heal.”

  “Not hungry. I feel sick.”

  “Tea? Or do you want to throw up.”

  “I’m all right.”

  Nym sighed. “Why do you keep lying to us? We’re trying to help you.”

  That got him a surprisingly focussed glare from teary eyes. “You aren’t.”

  “Well, I have been looking after you, so you’re wrong about that. How did you get hurt? Did someone beat you up? Are you in trouble?”

  The boy’s mouth set in a line. “I fell down. I’m not in trouble.”

  “Uh huh.”

  “Why ask if you’re not going to believe me?”

  “Why answer if you’re just going to lie? Look, it’s all right. I won’t throw you out again and we won’t hand you over to the soldiers. I don’t care what you did—I just want you out of here as soon as you’re well, and I don’t want you snooping around while you are here.”

  Despite his intentions, his voice had risen as he’d finished speaking, and Jembis cringed away from him again. “I’m sorry—didn’t mean to shout.” He looked at the bowl of soup, wondering when he was ever going to stop hurting. He put the unwanted food back on the tray, then took it to the side table so it wouldn’t get spilled.

  “I was looking for my belt. I swear I was. I didn’t mean to touch anything private.” Nym clenched his fist, still facing the window near the side table. “Whose hair is it? Why are you keeping it?”

  “You speak our language so well, and you don’t know this custom?” He laughed bitterly. “You Prij probably think it’s just stupid anyway.” No reply from the bed. Nym turned around and found Jembis picking nervously at the blanket, his eyes cast down. “My brother. His hair. When someone...dies...their family or friends cut off their braid. They keep it...out...until they can bear to...to put it away.” His sight blurred and his voice shook as he continued, “I don’t think I will ever be able to do that.”

  Jembis looked up. “When?” he asked softly.

  “Six weeks ago. He died in that bed, in this room. This...was his room. You don’t belong there. No one does.” He stuffed his wrist into his mouth, and turned back to the window, trying to swallow his sobs. Damn you, Eido—I miss you so much. Why did you have to go?

  Footsteps at the door, and then a familiar voice. “Nym? I—”

  He clenched his fist as he heard his sister speak, then turned. “He needs to eat that,” he said, jabbing his finger towards the soup.

  He pushed past her, ignoring her protests. He needed to get away from everyone, possibly for a very long time.

  Landing Softly: 4

  “Nym!” The girl frowned, shaking her head in exasperation. “What in hells is wrong with him now?” Jembis didn’t answer. He’d already caused enough trouble for one day, and any more excitement might just kill him. He felt sick to his stomach right now, and wondered what this girl would do if he puked all over her. She sat down and peered at him. “You don’t look so good. Why did you run off like that? You’re really not well enough to do that, you know.”

  “I’m sorry.” He swallowed down the nausea, and wished she would go away. Wished they would all go away.

  She patted his hand. “I expect you learned your lesson. You don’t want that soup, though, do you? You look really green.” He shook his head. “Thought not. I cracked my head falling down the stairs when I was ten and I was sick for days and days. Every time I stood up, I threw up. You look a lot worse than I did, I think.” He wished she would stop talking about vomiting. It made it worse. To his relief, he got his wish, because what was really bothering her was her brother’s behaviour. “Nym looked like he’d been crying. I think he’d been crying before—he was holding Eido’s braid. Ma should put it away—it really upsets him to see it. But none of us can bear that right now. Oh—you probably don’t know about this.”

  “He...said your brother died a few weeks ago. I didn’t realise. I moved the braid—I didn’t mean to offend.”

  “No, you probably didn’t. Nym’s not been himself since Eido died. None of us have. I can’t stand the way it’s changed things. The house feels so empty now, which is silly because it’s still got the five of us here. Six if we count you. Nym didn’t want you in here, but I thought it was nice the room wasn’t all closed up any more. I think he thinks if he keeps Eido’s room just as it was before he died, then Eido will come back. But he won’t. He’s not coming back.” She rubbed her eyes suddenly, and bit her lip. “Everyone’s...always crying and snapping at each other. Ma goes off to the storeroom to hide—I know she’s crying. Nym has hardly said a polite word to me in weeks. Pa never says anything, but you can see in his eyes how much he misses Eido. We all...I really miss him,” she said, her face crumpling up as she started to cry. “Gods, I wish I could stop this! Why does it have to hurt so much?”

  She was still holding his hand so he squeezed her fingers a little. He felt helpless. So much pain, such grief. He thought losing Cecu had hurt. That was nothing compared to this. “I’m sorry,” he whispered.

  She sniffled and rubbed her eyes again with her free hand, but didn’t let go of his. “It hurts all the time, and the worst thing about it is that if Eido were here, he’d
be so upset. He hated to see any of us sad. If he were here, he’d give me a hug and make me laugh and—” A huge sob escaped her. “I miss him all the time and...I don’t know when I’ll ever feel happy again...it’s just like this huge hole in our lives, our family, that we can’t fill and...Eido, gods, I wish you were here!” She covered her face with her hand and wept silently, her shoulders shaking with her misery. Jembis squeezed her fingers again, and forgave Nym for what he’d done earlier. If he’d been suffering this way, no wonder he’d been upset when Jembis had touched the relic of his loss.

  They sat together like that for some time. After a few minutes, Jembis was struggling to keep his eyes open—his brief flight and all the upset had exhausted him, and he simply didn’t know how to handle this girl or this broken family. But eventually she calmed down, wiping her nose and eyes with her handkerchief. She gave him a slight smile, squeezed his hand and then stood. “I’m sorry. Let me make you some of my betinwe tea—that’s the best thing for an upset stomach. Easier than soup when you’re feeling sick.”

  He nodded in agreement, but he didn’t remember her coming back with the tea. The next thing he knew, there were different people with him, and the room was much darker. Someone had lit a lamp off to the side, and he turned away from the glare of the flame. “Ah, so you’re awake,” the healer—Joti?—said, smiling at him. “ I hear you had an escapade earlier—or was it just an escape? Not a good idea in your condition, young man. How do you feel?”