Desert World Allegiances (34 page)

“Temar.” Shan stopped, not sure what to say. The anger he understood, but when Temar vacillated between anger and this awkward forgiveness, Shan wasn’t sure what to say.

“He probably did,” Naite said before Shan could collect his thoughts. “People like that… they don’t connect well with reality. However, I still say the best thing is to toss them out into the sand and hope they aren’t as stubbornly attached to life as my brother. The more interesting question is what the council is going to do about their own mistakes.”

“Their mistakes?” Temar sounded genuinely confused, but Shan understood the moment Naite said it. Before Temar’s case had ever come to light, they’d talked as a council about how unhappy they were with the council out of Blue Hope. A young woman in slavery had been raped. Yes, the council had exiled the man who’d abused the girl, but they hadn’t taken any blame for allowing the man to purchase her contract. A council made decisions, and right or wrong, they had to be accountable for those decisions.

“We voted to allow Ben Gratu to buy you,” Shan said softly. He didn’t have the money many of the others did, so he wasn’t sure what compensation he’d be asked to pay, but he’d pay it. It would never be enough to give Temar back what had been taken from him with such force, but he’d do what he could.

“You’re the only one in the clear, as far as I’m concerned,” Naite disagreed. “You were very loud and annoying in your arguments against slavery. Hell, you warned us that something like Blue Hope would happen again, and we all thought you were just being a prissy little pain in the ass.” Naite paused for a second. “Or maybe I was the only one who thought you were being prissy, but the rest of them agreed to go along with the slavery. So any payment that’s due Temar, you won’t be paying it.”

“No one should pay except Ben Gratu,” Temar said firmly. “If you’d asked me, I would have named Ben as my first choice in owners. You can’t be blamed for a mistake.”

“Like mistakenly dumping two tanks of water onto a field?” Shan asked. Temar closed his mouth on whatever argument he was about to make. “And I was part of the council, so I won’t challenge any punishment they assign. We all share in this.”

Temar was still shaking his head, but he looked confused.

Naite slowly smiled. “Look at it this way, you’ll probably end up owning a lot more land than your father did. You’ll definitely get Ben Gratu’s land, after what he did, and since George Young still hasn’t burned off those damn pipe trap plants, you can take him to the council and demand work days from him.” His smile grew wider. “That would be a sight to see.”

Shan sighed. “It doesn’t fix any of this. It doesn’t change the fact that the council is going to have to exile not one person but forty-three.” That loss of life tugged at Shan’s soul. By stopping the rocket, they’d saved so many lives. The councils hadn’t released the new water figures, but the planet would last for years, maybe decades longer with so much water, especially since the water-use predictions everyone had been using had included the stolen water, siphoned off year by year over almost twenty years. Their water technology was better than any of the skilled workers had calculated. However, by saving the planet, Shan had his part in condemning forty-three people he knew.

Naite rolled his eyes. “Forty-three men and women from Landing agreed to abandon the rest of us to die. I don’t feel guilty, and once they let me back in there after Ben’s judgment, I plan to vote for exile on every one.”

Shan frowned. “Every one of them?”

Naite sighed. “Unless they can come up with a very good excuse, yes. Every one. We have an obligation to apply the law fairly, and water theft of this seriousness can’t be treated lightly.”

“What about any that you decide to show mercy on?” Shan asked. Other than exile and fining, Livre had only one punishment.

“We need to monitor more closely, but I’m still not against slavery, Shan.”

“By God, you are stubborn.”

“You both are,” Temar interrupted.

“That we are,” Naite agreed. “And we need to make changes, but there isn’t a better solution. And I’m saying that as someone who has both survived a long slavery sentence and is facing another.”

“You… what?” Shan asked, his stomach souring at Naite’s casual attitude toward slavery after all these horrors.

“Why would you be slaved out?” Temar sat up, his face alarmed.

Naite snorted. “I’m likely to be slaved out to you, Temar,” he pointed out. “I don’t have any training, and I definitely don’t have money for fines, so I’ll be working your farm for a time. It’s fair enough. Ben ran a tight ship, but a lot of unskilled laborers avoided the place because he did have a real prejudice against kids on his farm. Kids or retired folks. Most unskilled workers want to make connections on farms where they know they’ll be welcomed when they’re too old to work. If I’m there to get the workers back in shape, you’ll get it running smooth faster.”

“But… a slave?” Temar made a moue of disgust, and Shan didn’t blame him. He felt the same way.

“It’s that or hand over half my pay for the rest of my life, and trust me, I’d rather be slaved out for a time and have it done and over with.” Naite got a thoughtful look on his face. “I wonder if I can serve on the council if I’m slaved out. Huh.” He looked more curious than alarmed at the idea he might lose his position.

Temar was still shaking his head. “I don’t want you as a slave.”

“Then I’ll slave out to someone else, and you’ll get the slave fee,” Naite said. “I’d rather you ask the council to avoid selling me to George Young. I’d earn extra years for telling him exactly what I think of him. The man might be brilliant at breeding plants, but he’s a sandrat about most else.”

Temar scooted to the edge of the bench. “But I don’t want you slaved out at all.”

Naite sighed and looked over at Shan, but Shan wasn’t saving his idiot brother from this. He’d been clear that he didn’t like slavery, and that was even before all this mess. “If I don’t repay you for my part in this, I’ll live with that guilt. It’d be kinder to let me work it off.”

“But you don’t owe me anything,” Temar protested.

Naite didn’t answer right away. He looked up at the sky. “I know what Ben did. My father used to do the same, and I hated it. But even though I knew better than most what was out there, I made a poor judgment call. I trusted Ben when even my idiot brother knew that something was wrong. I didn’t check to make sure you were safe, and because of that, you suffered. You suffered things that I understand all too well. You suffered when I would have seen the signs if I’d just paid more attention. One trip out to the Gratu farm and I would have known to take you in hand until I figured out the truth, and as a council member, that was my job.” Naite looked at Temar. “I understand better than anyone else on that council how much we owe you, and for my part, putting Ben Gratu’s farm in order is the least of what I can do to repay you. I am sorry.”

The mood turned somber, and Temar had gone so pale that Shan itched to reach out and offer some comfort, but this wasn’t a topic he really understood. He could imagine what had been done to Naite and Temar. He could even feel badly about it, but he couldn’t understand what it meant to live through that. He was trapped outside, wanting to help them both and not knowing how.

“I don’t blame you,” Temar said quietly.

“Good to know. When your master blames you, it can get uncomfortable. However, the fact that you’re a forgiving soul doesn’t change the fact that I do carry some of the blame here. Not all or even most, but some. We’ll all have to decide how to pay for that.” Naite looked over at Shan and frowned. “Except for my idiot brother, who actually did see this coming. I’m never going to live that down, am I?”

Shan shook his head. “I don’t plan to ever mention it again.”

“That’d be a surprise.” Naite pushed himself up off the bench. “I’m going to go get some food and find someone to annoy until Lilian lets me back in.” Naite strolled off, and for a time, silence fell over them.

“So, they’re condemning him now?” Temar asked quietly.

“Yes.”

“Why aren’t you in there? Aren’t you council?”

“I was. I’m not now,” Shan said. It suddenly occurred to him, if the council decided to impose a punishment on all standing members when Temar had been punished, he might be looking at slavery himself. He frowned, his stomach rolling at the thought. It was an evil. He still believed that.

“Why? Did they kick you off?” Temar looked angry enough to go challenge the entire council, and Shan smiled. Temar wasn’t a boy, that’s for sure. He’d gone through life moving in the shadows, but when he decided to step forward, he was a force. Shan could see him being on the council someday. Perhaps some day very soon if the rest of the council felt as guilty as he did. Lilian had been making noises about retiring every season-end, and Bari… Bari Ruiz was such a gentle man that Shan couldn’t imagine how he’d handled the news.

“What’s going on?” Temar demanded in a louder voice.

“You don’t need to go defend my rights. I quit the priesthood. I can’t represent the church if I’m not a member of the clergy,” Shan said. Temar’s mouth literally fell open as he stared at Shan. Shan raised his eyebrows. “You can’t be that surprised. It’s not like I was acting like a priest.”

“But… you aren’t….” Temar closed his mouth so quickly that his teeth clicked.

Shan smiled. Div certainly hadn’t been surprised, and neither had Naite, so it was nice that he’d managed to shock someone. “I thought I might see if I could apprentice out to a mechanic. I’m almost done with my training, so I think I can get someone to take me on.”

“Not a priest?” Temar’s voice sounded distant, like shock had robbed him of the volume.

“I didn’t belong in the church anymore. God helped me off one path, and now I’m on another,” Shan explained. Div had simply smiled when Shan had explained how he felt and then added that Shan needed to listen to his heart and God more often because God had been saying that for a couple of years. Well, Shan never had been a fast learner, not unless you were talking about sand bikes. Moving slowly, he reached out and let his fingertips rest against Temar’s knee. Temar looked down to where they touched and then up at Shan’s face.

“On another? Another path?” Temar’s voice sounded unnaturally high.

Shan nodded. Hopefully it was a compliment that Temar couldn’t find words. Either that or Shan was pushing far too fast.

Temar took a deep breath and then let it out slowly. “I think I like this path, but maybe….” He stopped and bit his upper lip as he frowned. Shan felt his stomach drop as he realized that Temar was unhappy.

Shan pulled his hand back. “I’m sorry. I don’t—”

“Why?” Temar cut him off.

“I left because my path isn’t with the church.”

“Because of me?” Temar’s voice still had that squeaky tone to it.

“No,” Shan quickly said. “Maybe you made me look at myself, but I’m not leaving the church because of you, Temar. Not because of you and not for you.”

“But you feel this thing between us?” This time Temar’s voice actually sounded like Temar.

“If you’re not interested, it’s still time for me to move onto my real path. I’m still staying out of the priesthood and trying to find work as a mechanic.” Shan cringed as he realized he’d backed Temar into a corner with this little announcement. Maybe he should get work near Naite, so his brother could insult him when he acted like a verbally incompetent moron.

“You’re an idiot,” Temar said with some amusement in his voice.

“I could have told you that,” Shan said with a shrug. “But I don’t want you to think I expect something from you. I don’t. I did what I needed to do, and Div himself told me that I should have left the priesthood years ago, when I found myself spending more time fixing the roof than reading the Bible. He told me he would have kicked me out himself, only the roof really needed fixing.” Shan smiled. He hadn’t believed Div for a moment, but the comfortable insults made him believe that Div still loved him, even though he chose to leave the priesthood.

Temar reached out and caught Shan’s hand, curling his long fingers around it. “I hope that maybe we can share a path. I just hope that you’re patient, because I’m still struggling to find my way.”

Shan’s stomach unknotted so fast that Shan let all his air out in one huge breath, relief forcing the air out. “Oh thank God. I thought I’d driven you away before I’d even asked you out on a first date.”

“Considering that I’ve seen you so drunk on pipe juice that you couldn’t walk, I don’t think I can be scared away that easily,” Temar said. “I do want this. Maybe when you rescued me I got confused about what I felt, but in the week since we got back to town, I miss you. I miss your sense of humor, and I miss having someone to talk to. I just don’t know how long it’s going to take me to get my head together. Some days I feel like the boy who stood at the back of your church and listened to your sermons, and other days I feel unaccountably old.”

Shan smiled. “I’ve waited nine years, Temar. In nine years I haven’t touched another person with desire. I think I can wait as long as you need.”

“It definitely won’t be nine years,” Temar said with a snort. “I’m not that screwed up.”

“Well, I would hope not.” The second the words were out of his mouth, Shan realized that was not the best phrasing.

Temar looked at him with a confused expression, and Shan cringed.

“Have I mentioned that I’m better with bikes than words?”

Temar smiled. “You might have, once or twice.” Then Temar leaned closer, his eyes falling half closed. Shan remembered this, even if he was six years out of practice. He moved closer and tilted his head so their lips met. The heat gathered between them as they kissed gently, lips brushing past one another. Temar’s free hand curled around the back of Shan’s neck, pulling him closer even as Temar opened his mouth more. Their tongues now slipped against each other, sending tingles up through his neck, and Shan could feel the heat gather in his whole body. He reached up and let his hand rest against Temar’s shoulder, his breath coming in fast gasps. When Temar hesitated, his grip on the back of Shan’s neck easing, Shan pulled back and smiled. The kiss was promise enough. Shan looked up at the sky and gave a silent prayer of thanks as Temar’s fingers tightened around his hand. They’d find a way through this together. Now that Shan had learned to listen to his heart, he could practically hear God whisper that promise.