We went to Temshek last month, and again last week. I liked the town a lot—it’s not as noisy as Urshek or Utuk, but there were a lot of carts around, farmers bringing in spring reeds from the marshes, and early tubers. No one said anything rude to me. A couple of people wanted to know where I’d come from, but your uncle just said I was working on their farm, and that was enough. I spent some time talking to one of the healers and getting ideas about treating some of the jombekers who had bald patches. I told her a bit about what I’d learned about doigs up in Andon and she wrote down some notes. She said she’d send them along to the academy in Urshek for their opinion. Not really sure what use it will be there, but she’s welcome to do it.
What you said about the fire worried me a lot. I’ve always been afraid of fire—anyone who spends time on boats usually is. Please be careful and stay away from any riots, Nym.
Your aunt has been teaching me to write my name, so she says I should sign this letter myself. I hope you don’t think it looks like bird feet.
Your friend
Jembis {yes, that really is his handwriting, Nym! -Jini}
~~~
Dear Jem-chi
Ha! I can call you that now because you’re too far away to hit me! Nym said he wouldn’t give you all the gossip in his letter this time so I would have something to tell you, but the reason I wanted to write to you was to say ‘Happy Birthday!’ It will be past by the time you get this, but at least you will have had a birthday wish from me (and Nym, I suppose, since he’s sharing the table and the lamp, and writing with his hand around the paper as if he thinks I would read his stupid letter.) I’m sending you a gift I made all on my own, but it’s a special gift because it’s all part of us. If you look at the hisk in the middle, you’ll see I stitched it from hair—that’s my hair! I sealed up hair from Nym and Ma and Pa inside it too—and I asked all of them if I could have a strand of Eido’s too and they said I could. I know you never met him but I wanted it to be from all our family to you and he’s still our family even though he’s not here any more. So you have to wear it all the time and think of me and all of us when you see it or I’ll be cross!
My cousin Ketei left for Urshek last week. Nym said ‘good riddance’ which was rude but I don’t blame him. She was hanging around and I think she wanted him to court her, but he wasn’t interested. I do wish he’d find someone nice though. He’s so lonely sometimes now—it was good while you were here because he didn’t mope so much, but sometimes when he’s out in the garden, I know he cries (you mustn’t tell him I said that, because he’d get cranky.) He’s a lot better though. So is Ma. Nym told you about Pa making friends with captain Janis, didn’t he? Janis’s wife is very shy, but Ma has been talking to her about some of the Prijian spices. It takes her mind off things, I think.
I’m really busy all the time. The teacher at our school asked me if I would look after his little class in the mornings, just for an hour or so, but it usually lasts longer than that because I get involved in the lesson. Then I come home for lunch and have to rush back for my own class. Pa wants me to learn about the accounts so I can help in the shop, so I do that in the evenings. It’s good because I can use that if I start my own business. If Pa really does decide to leave Utuk, maybe he’ll think about Darshek—there’s a really big market for herbs up there because of the academy. I’d love to see Darshek—everyone says it’s a beautiful city.
We all miss you, Jembis. Now you’re eighteen, do you think you might come back to Utuk? Nym says you probably won’t because you’re happy where you are, and I want you to be happy, but maybe you could visit? We might go to Temshek too. Ma talks about it a lot these days, especially when there are riots. She’s homesick, Nym says. I know she missed Geidi and Jini and everyone. I don’t really remember them that well, but if you like them, I’m sure they must be as nice as everyone says they are.
Now remember you owe me your first letter soon!
Your friend,
Jaika
~~~
Daer Jaka
Thenk yu for tha airm bend, it wes nce. I wll trasure it. I em wll. I mios yu ad Nim.
Yr frend
Jembis
{Jai-chi, that took him an hour to write. I know it’s full of mistakes but he was determined to send it to you, so I didn’t want to discourage him. It was a very beautiful gift, dear, and he got quite misty-eyed when I read your note to him. I hope you will come to visit us too—we miss all of you. Your loving aunt, Jini.}
~~~
Dear Jembis
I’ve sat down to write this three times this week, and every time, I haven’t been able to even start. Bren’s sending a shipment to Temshek tomorrow, so if I don’t send this then, that will make it three months since I wrote to you. I’m sorry about the long gap—it’s not because I haven’t been thinking of you, believe me.
The weeks leading up to the night of the ancestors were really hard for all of us. I guess Geidi and Jini probably explained what it’s all about—maybe they even took you to Temshek for the clan gathering, I hope so. It’s supposed to be a time of healing, when you can really say farewell to those who’ve left, and send them on their way with love and hope but I just kept thinking, it’s the night when I’ll finally lose Eido for good. I know that’s just incredibly stupid but...I couldn’t help feeling this huge sense of dread, fear almost. It was a bit like that last night he was alive, and we knew he was dying—we sat and watched with him, hoping, waiting, terrified that each breath would be his last. Then it was, and things were never the same after that.
I almost couldn’t face the ceremony of lights. I tried to pretend I was sick but Ma saw through it and told me that I had to go, because it would help. So I did but...it didn’t. Well it did and it didn’t. It was a beautiful ceremony, perfect weather for it, and everyone was so kind. It’s different when you’re one of the bereaved, instead of one of the comforters. While it was going on, I felt like I could feel Eido standing beside me, that he could hear every word I said. But when it was over, I felt...like he was really, really gone. I haven’t really been able to face things since then.
I don’t know why it’s getting worse, Jembis. I thought, while you were here, that things might start to be easier, but if anything, it’s getting harder. I can’t believe it’s only ten months since he left us. It feels so long since I saw him. I get terrified I’ll forget him, forget his face, the sound of his voice. If I do that, I really will have lost him, and I don’t know what I’ll do when that happens.
Forgive me for this letter. I feel like I can’t really talk to the others about this, because they hurt too and I want to be a support to Ma and Pa, not a burden. The stupid thing is the one person I could have talked to about this, was Eido. Gods, Jembis—more and more I wish it had been me who’d died.
I’m going to stop now.
Your friend
Nym
~~~
Dear Nym
I know it’s not much, but I’m sorry. I really wish I could have been there to help you. I hope this finds you better. I don’t know if I can offer any comfort because I cried for a long time when my friend died, but it did get better after a while. It’s nothing like losing a brother, though.
I don’t think you will ever forget Eido. I know I can remember my friend even now. I don’t think you need to be afraid of that happening. And I don’t think he would leave you while you still need him. I’m sure he will sit by you until you’re ready for him to move on. It’s not such a long time for you to get over all this, Nym. I think you’ll get better if you just don’t worry so much about whether you should or shouldn’t feel how you do. I think you should tell your mother and father too. I was talking to your aunt about your letter and she says she thinks they will want to share your sorrow. I don’t really know about these things, but I think you should listen to her.
Yes, you were right—they took me with them to the clan gathering. We stayed in your aunt’s sister’s house—it was very crowded but like y
ou said, there is always room for one more. Alis explained what was happening at the ceremony. It was beautiful, and I cried a little, because people were sad and it reminded me of my own sad memories. But afterwards, everyone was so friendly and kind, and I realised I was so lucky to have met you and your family, and to be given this chance. I said a prayer for Eido—I hope you don’t mind. I know your gods aren’t mine, but maybe they’re all the same in the end. I said one for my mother too—I hadn’t done that before. I think wherever Eido is, she is, so maybe they’re watching over us both, do you think?
It was a really good harvest this year, your uncle said. I helped make hay for the first time, and all the haymakers got a bit drunk on the beer they served us. One of the girls kissed me. I think it was just for curiosity, to see what a Prij would kiss like. I was embarrassed, but she was a pretty girl (though not as pretty as Jaika!) and kissing sure is fun. She lives on the next farm to your uncle’s, so I might see her again, you never know.
Please tell Jaika I’ve now read a whole book on my own. My writing is getting better, and Pai says he can almost read it now—Pai is so damn rude about my writing. He reminds me of Jaika—he treats me like a younger brother, and sometimes I have to remind him I’m actually older than him by a year. It doesn’t help that he’s taller than me!
I know your birthday is soon, so I am sending you a little belt pouch. I trapped the hisk and tanned and cured the skin myself. Your uncle showed me how to do the stitching. I thought you might find it useful.
I wish I was there in Utuk to help you, Nym. I think about you a lot, and sometimes imagine I’m talking to you for real. Don’t be too sad.
Your friend
Jembis
{Darling Nym, I’m sorry to have to intrude on your privacy by reading your letters to Jembis. I don’t tell anyone a word of them, I promise. I wish I could be there and comfort you. Your loving aunt, Jini. PS—Jembis didn’t want to tell me about his friend. I didn’t like to ask but I hope it wasn’t a recent loss.}
~~~
Dear Jembis
The pouch is very fine, and I use it all the time. It’s just the right size to carry little tools and a pencil in, and now I don’t know how I did without it before. Thank you for it.
I nearly didn’t send my last letter, but I felt it was better to be honest. Your reply helped a lot, though I admit I cried a bit when you said that about your mother and Eido. It was a nice kind of sad, if you know what I mean, because it was a lovely idea. I’m doing better now—it was the anniversary of Eido’s death three days ago. We went up to the cemetery and opened a cask of beer—Jaika insisted on giving him a drink too, and when I said Eido hadn’t even liked beer, she said she was sure that he’d have learned to by now, which made us all laugh. I took your advice—yours and Jini—and talked to Ma and Pa. That helped too. Ma said she has good days and bad days, but she knows the good days will come more than the bad ones. She said the same as you—I won’t forget Eido. That helped a lot too. We talk about him more now. For a while, I was scared to even mention him, because I thought it would upset me, and then upset them. Jaika said she’d wanted to talk about him but was afraid of hurting us. So we were all being worried about the same thing, and then we realised we didn’t have to be. Jaika says Eido is still part of the family and we should just talk about him as if he is. It makes a difference, it really does.
Anyway, I won’t send you another letter full of woe and misery. Tomorrow we are going to Bren and Reda’s for supper—it’s a lot easier visiting there now Ketei’s in Urshek. I hope she learns a bit of restraint over there. I wasn’t very nice to her the last time she was around—she wanted a lot more from me than I was ready to give anyone. I think I’m starting to feel like company again. Not necessarily Ketei’s company though! It sounds like you’re finding plenty of company of your own. I don’t think the girls only want to kiss you out of curiosity—you’re a good looking man, you’ll find plenty of girls who like that and you.
Things are still troubled here in Utuk, I wish I could give you better news about that. They’ve raised taxes against the Darshianese again—the embassy is protesting, and there’s talk of not paying it, but we don’t want trouble so I guess we’ll pay. It makes it less attractive to stay, so in a way I’m happy about it if it persuades Ma and Pa to finally go.
I’m sorry but we still have no news of your aunt. We haven’t seen anything of your father either, which is good for us.
I don’t have much other news—I’ve been working hard, and we’re still very busy. If taxes go up, at least we’re making more than enough to absorb it, but it’s still not fair.
Hope you are well, and you are in my thoughts.
Nym
{Dear Jini—I don’t mind you reading the letters, and your advice was very wise. Jembis’s friend died some time ago and he doesn’t like to talk about it, so please don’t ask him about it. I know Pa is writing to you and Geidi about the situation here, which is somewhat worse than I’ve indicated, but I don’t want to worry Jembis. Don’t tell him. Your loving nephew, Nym}
~~~
Dear Nym
This is me writing. I read really well now, your aunt says. I practise writing every day—it is very hard. Sometimes I forget the right number of strokes and I end up saying “please drop a hisk on my head” instead of “I wish I could see my friend”! Pai is still making fun of me. He’s lucky he’s bigger than me. Alis tells him to stop, and then we chase him around the farm until he apologises.
Sorry this is short. I wrote this out five times. The next letter will be longer.
Your friend
Jembis
{Dear Nym—isn’t this beautiful? I was so proud of him. Pai is an utter brat, but it’s just jealousy because Jembis will end up with prettier handwriting than him, and because the lad rides a better seat than him on a jesig. The three of them have started racing the damn things, and it almost gives me a heart attack, watching them. I haven’t said anything to him about Letu’s letter, but you know we’re all terribly worried. I hope your plans come to fruition soon.}
~~~
Dear Nym
Are you well? I haven’t heard from you for months, and neither has your aunt or uncle. Everything is fine here. I am still working hard, and practicing my reading and writing.
I miss you all.
Your friend,
Jembis
Landing Softly: 11
Jembis wiped his brow. Even in autumn, south Darshian was pretty hot, and though harvest had been over for weeks, the night of the ancestors had not been the signal for the season to turn as it usually was. Alis and Pai had been talking about it just that morning, and saying it meant they could still get some swimming in. He would join them later but he had to finish his chores first. He forked over another load of forage into the feed bins and watched his hairy charges tussle and butt each other for first rights to the fresh food. He noticed one of the older females was looking a bit lame—he climbed through the fence for a closer look. She was more concerned about her food, but she appreciated him scratching under her jaw as he felt her hind leg. Seemed to be a bruise, not a wound. “Been arguing with your friends again, haven’t you, old girl,” he said, patting her rear and letting her get back to stuffing her face.
He walked through the herd, just to see if there were any other injuries, and making sure all the jombekers were feeding well. The herd would need splitting soon, and what they weren’t butchering for the farm’s use, would have to be taken to Temshek. Already he was mentally noting which animals they should dispose of, which were probably not worth keeping for the winter and which would make up part of the winter store of dried, smoked meat. He didn’t much like the killing season, but they could only have a certain number of animals, and they were bred for food. No point in getting sentimental, and they had a good life here on the farm—food on demand, plentiful water, and good shelter. His jombekers were in damn fine condition, and he knew it.
He scanned the horizon, ju
st out of habit, and saw there was a small cloud of dust rising above the road—someone coming to pay Geidi and Jini a visit, it looked like. He hoped they might have news from Utuk. The last they’d heard had been very worrying indeed—after months of severe unrest, Utuk was at war with itself, the old sovereign and her consort murdered, and the Darshianese residents were pouring out of the city, while Darshianese troops were being sent at the request of the new sovereign to help restore order. Even troops from Temshek had gone. No one had any word of Nym or his family, but it was hardly surprising—the mind-speakers could only pass on the big news, and didn’t have time to send individual messages to families. People had talked of little else at the night of the ancestors.
He pumped out a bit more water into the trough, still watching the dust cloud as it drew closer and closer. Now he saw it was a beast cart, two animals, with a group of four people....
“Nym?” He ran to the fence and vaulted it, then halloed wildly. “Nym?”
Someone was waving back enthusiastically, and he heard his name being called. He started to run towards the cart. “Nym! Jaika!”
The cart stopped, and two people got off and ran towards him. “Jembis!” That was Jaika, running like a jesig towards him. He swept her up and hugged her close. “Oh, Jembis! I’m so glad to see you!”
“Me too.” She’d got taller, but then so had he. He looked up. “Nym?”
Nym wrapped his arms around them both and squeezed. “Oh, gods, it’s good to see you. You’ve grown! And what’s this?” He flipped Jembis’s braid. “Turning Darshianese?”
“Well, you know, it’s easier than finding a barber out here.” He couldn’t stop smiling—Nym’s face looked set to crack in two.
Nym’s Pa had brought the cart up alongside them and bent down to clasp Jembis’s hand. “It’s very good to see you again, son. You look well.”
“I’m fine, Letu, especially since I’ve seen you. Hello, Karin—is everyone all right?”
“We’re safe and together, Jembis, and that’s all that matters. Want to hop in? We want to get up to the house.”
Falling From the Tree (Darshian Tales #2) Page 76