The Archer's Heart (10 page)

Tarek’s body ached and shuddered, but he forced it into action. He quickly dropped his sword and shield and ran to the entrance of the courtyard, grabbing the vase of a potted plant. He upturned the contents onto his burning opponent, covering Sahdin in water and damp soil.

Sahdin collapsed onto the ground, groaning. He dropped his sword and shield, his hands held out from his body, the skin blistered and broken.

Tarek knelt beside him and leaned in close. “Say that you will renounce your support of Yudar Paran, and I will spare your life.” Killing the Triya lord was against the rules of combat but threatening him wasn’t.

“Never,” Sahdin hissed.

Tarek clamped a hand around Sahdin’s throat. He didn’t even have to squeeze. The old man’s eyes bulged and tears streamed down his cheeks. The audience watched, rapt, but no one did anything to stop the duel.

Tarek released his grasp and Sahdin gasped for air.

“Say it!”

“I renounce my allegiance to Yudar Paran,” Sahdin croaked.

“Say you will support Darvad Uru as the King of Marhavad,” Tarek prompted.

“Darvad Uru has Jezza’s support.” Sahdin collapsed backward. All the fight had left him. Tarek stood, facing the onlookers.

“Help him!” Tarek ordered. Immediately, servants from the house rushed over and knelt by Sahdin’s side, offering him water. Druv summoned his physician.

The focus of the crowd turned to Sahdin and his hideous burns. Tarek stiffly walked over to the edge of the courtyard. He sat on a stone step and tried to slow down his heartbeat. His arms and legs shook violently with the aftershocks of the Ajadusharta. His body felt drained.

Darvad rushed to him, carrying a glass of water and a cloth. “Are you all right?”

Tarek nodded. He took the water with shaking hands and drained the cup. Darvad started mopping his brow with the towel. Tarek took it from him. Several servants helped Sahdin stand, in preparation to place him on a palanquin. Tarek stepped forward.

Sahdin turned to Tarek. His face was contorted in pain. But he bowed his head at Tarek.

“I don’t know how you did that, Suya. But you have my apology. I concede the challenge.”

Sahdin turned away and climbed into the palanquin.

Tarek left the party immediately after Sahdin’s departure, went to his own townhouse and took a long bath. His body continued to shake, hours after the sharta had been expelled. He sank deeper in the water and forced himself to forget the shame of humiliating a Triya lord at his own birthday party. He had done it for Darvad. And the brightness of his friend’s smile had been enough to burn away any regret.

Chapter 9

Every night, Jandu found it impossible to sleep.

His body felt heavy and hot with longing. Keshan had stirred something inside him, sensual and craven, and now he could not rid himself of the feeling. Everything seemed erotic. His mind crashed against carnal wishes on an hourly basis. The sight of workmen repairing a particular piece of furniture, the movement of a farmer against a plough, the arrival of pages carrying in his dinner—the strangest things made him flush with sexual desire. He felt sixteen again.

It was bad enough having to pretend like his mind wasn’t completely focused on sex. Worse was how often he thought of Keshan. He thought of the smell of him. The way he moved, spoke, laughed. Jandu went to bed each night shaking with unspent desire, tortured by Keshan’s spell.

Jandu had always been the most sexually reserved of all the Parans. While Baram slept with every servant girl in the palace, Jandu had always maintained his self-control. Even in his confusing teenage years, Jandu transferred all his energy to archery, rarely submitting to the passions flooding his system.

Sex hadn’t obsessed him. It hadn’t controlled him. And now he was being completely manipulated by his dick, unable to focus on even the simplest of chores. After he failed to accompany Yudar on a social call, his older brother formally summoned Jandu so that he could explain himself.

Yudar conducted most of his private business in a large, elegantly decorated room that opened out onto a magnificent rose garden. Unlike the palace’s throne room, Yudar’s greeting room had no chairs, and so guests would sit on pillows or piled silk rugs as they talked with him.

But Jandu chose to stand instead, taking his place beside the large mahogany desk in the corner. Scrolls and maps covered the desk. Parchments piled the floor, and more scrolls leaned against the walls.

Yudar stood with his back to his brother, intently reading a scroll. Jandu coughed. “You wanted to see me?”

Yudar turned and made a show of rolling the scroll he had been reviewing. He narrowed his dark eyes at Jandu. “You are not acting yourself.”

Jandu froze. He hoped Yudar couldn’t tell that Jandu had just been thinking about how much the paper weight on his desk looked like testicles. Jandu stared at his brother in mock innocence.

“I’m just distracted.”

“By what?”

Jandu didn’t answer. He stared at a map of the river on the desk.

Yudar sighed. “Fine. Don’t tell me. But I can’t have you sulking around the palace, ignoring my guests. Your irresponsibility is driving me insane, and I have too many problems right now to deal with you too.”

Jandu straightened. “I don’t need dealing with. Just give me something more to do, and I’ll be fine.”

 “More to do? You didn’t do what I asked you to do yesterday.”

“Not true,” Jandu protested. “I entertained those ambassadors from Bandari, just like you said.”

“You called one of them a liar and then fell asleep during his daughter’s flute recital!” Yudar slammed the scroll down on his desk. “And last night I asked you to accompany me on my visit to Lord Sahdin. You never showed up.”

“I was caught up in an affair,” Jandu said. He coughed. “I mean, I… I was involved in affairs of state.”

“An affair?” Yudar said, almost to himself. He smirked. “She must be something, otherwise you wouldn’t be turning so red.”

“It’s none of your concern!” Jandu turned to leave the room.

“I didn’t excuse you.” Yudar sounded more like a father every day. It used to please Jandu that Yudar treated him like a son. Now it drove him mad.

“Sorry, your highness,” Jandu said, sarcasm thick in his voice.

Yudar sighed dramatically, and rubbed his eyes.

“Can I go?” Jandu asked Yudar urgently.

Yudar studied him a moment longer. “I wish you had come with me to visit Lord Sadhin. He seems strangely distant. I worry that something troubles him of late.”

“Other than his burn scars?”

Yudar’s expression darkened. “I’m glad to see that you find it funny to treat our fellow Triya’s pain with such flippancy.”

“I’m sorry,” Jandu said. “Is there anything I can do now?”

“For Lord Sahdin? No. But I do have a task more suited to your skills, I think,” Yudar said. “The gamekeepers have informed me that something strange is bothering the animals in the Ashari Forest. For the last few days, the wild boar and deer refuse to cross the clearing near the bend in the river. Even the birds seem to avoid the area. Go there and find out what’s going on. Take as many of my men as you like.”

“Why me?”

“Because if it is dangerous, I’m sure you can take care of yourself.” Yudar smirked. “Besides, no one knows the forest as well as you do. You’ve been sneaking off there alone for years.”

Jandu flushed. He immediately thought of the softness of Keshan’s kiss.

“I‘ll see to it,” Jandu promised and then he fled Yudar’s chamber.

Jandu hurried through the long white corridors and darted through the sculpture garden to his own rooms. His thoughts kept flashing back to Keshan touching him in the woods. Once in his rooms, Jandu shooed his attendants away and spent ten minutes alone, taking care of pressing issues. When he re-emerged, he headed towards the palace stables.

Jandu ordered his gelding, Shedav, saddled. While he waited, he mulled over the idea of spending such a crisp and beautiful day with Yudar’s soldiers in tow. He elected to go into the forest alone. He strapped on his quiver and bow, and rode Shedav away from town, down along the river towards the Ashari Forest.

As he traveled, he realized he would have to change his behavior. If Yudar, obsessed with his own ascension, noticed the change in Jandu, then others might, as well. Someone might figure it out. If they learned that Jandu lusted over a man, he thought he would die of shame.

On the other side of the river, Jandu saw travelers walking the wide road that led into the heart of Prasta. But on his side of the river, the land was the private property of the royal family and so he remained alone with his tormented thoughts.

The path eventually narrowed and Jandu had to cross a branch of the river to penetrate the Ashari forest. Shedav looked at the water warily, and disapproved of crossing until Jandu found a place where the river narrowed sufficiently enough that Shedav could jump across without getting his feet wet. Jandu dismounted.

The lush sounds of forest life filled the air. Birds, snakes, a hundred species of trees, they all congregated on this marshy curve of the river, huddling against each other for protection from the arid rolling plains to the north.

Jandu heard a branch snap behind him. Shedav spooked and bolted. Jandu swiveled and instinctively pulled an arrow from his quiver, nocking it.

There was no one there.

He relaxed, but searched the impenetrable green of the forest for movement. Something had startled Shedav. Jandu called out to him, but Shedav balked.

Swearing, Jandu walked slowly towards his horse. Shedav didn’t run, but watched Jandu apprehensively.

“What’s wrong?” Jandu asked him. He stroked Shedav’s neck, and Shedav leaned into his hand. Suddenly Shedav whinnied and reared. Jandu stepped aside as he bolted, racing back down to the river’s edge.

Jandu’s skin crawled, but he saw nothing. He scanned the small clearing in the woods for signs of life, but other than a small bird up in the forest canopy he saw no one.

Something darted in the corner of his eye, and he spun once more.

He saw a blur and a glint of light. Jandu concentrated on the spot where he’d seen the first flashes. The hazy outlines of two men fighting furiously in sword combat became barely visible. Sparks bloomed around the combatants heads, and the air seemed to vibrate and shimmer, ripples coursing through it like it were the surface of a pond. Their shimmering blue skin and glossy black hair made the men appear as gods, towering above him in a blurry mirage of violence.

Yashvas. What were they doing here, in his world?

One of the Yashvas thrust. The other tried to parry but lost his balance and fell backwards into the undergrowth. But the bushes did not move. Jandu suddenly realized they weren’t in his world. He was watching them in theirs. He couldn’t see them if he looked directly at them. But by glancing away and concentrating, Jandu made out the bright colors exploding around the demons, made out their shimmering forms. Both of these creatures looked almost human. They wore armor and carried weapons like men. But their bluish skin tone and hazy, unfocused faces showed them for what they were.

The explosions above their heads increased in intensity. Jandu’s heart beat faster. He was witnessing a great battle. The explosions had to be magical weapons of some sort. Suddenly a loud boom echoed across the forest. Jandu felt the air ripple and then burst. The noise of clashing swords crashed over him.

One of the Yashvas emitted a piercing scream, and then collapsed before Jandu and grabbed hold of his ankles.

“Please protect me!” The Yashva cried out, quivering at Jandu’s feet.

Jandu gasped in shock. The Yashva had dropped his sword. Blood ran from numerous wounds all over his body.

As the Yashva looked up, Jandu gasped again. This was a woman. The surface of her long black hair swirled like an oil slick. Dark, purplish blood oozed from her lips and nose.

Jandu unsheathed his sword as the other Yashva strode towards him.

Jandu’s honor would not allow him to ignore the pleas of a woman, particularly not one so badly wounded. But he had no idea how to fight a Yashva. They were the weapons that Triya used in battle against each other.

“Zandi!” the other Yashva yelled. “Let go of the mortal and come back here! This is none of his concern!”

Jandu stepped in front of the cowering demon. “She has asked for my protection and as a Triya it is my duty to provide it.” He stood battle-ready, looking up at his towering opponent. “I am Jandu Paran! Prepare yourself!”

“I am your death,” the Yashva said, smirking. “Prepare yourself, Jandu Paran!”

“Koraz,” the Yashva at Jandu’s feet moaned. “His name is Koraz.”

Jandu knew the Yashva’s name. The Korazsharta released an indestructible spear that could strike true for an extended distance.

Koraz lunged at Jandu, bringing his sword down with the strength of an elephant.

Jandu deflected the blade with his own sword. A tearing pain ripped through his shoulder. Koraz slashed at him again and this time Jandu’s legs buckled beneath him as he blocked the powerful blow. He crumpled to his knees.

Koraz grinned maliciously. “You’re strong,” he said.

“I’m smart too.” Jandu reached out and plucked a blade of grass. He pulled it to his lips and whispered the Korazsharta.

As soon as Jandu started speaking, the Yashva became enraged. Koraz struck at Jandu, forcing Jandu to roll away. He mumbled the words of the sharta, blood pooling in his mouth.

“Chedu!”
Blood flew from Jandu’s mouth as he shouted the final word.

Koraz screamed in rage and vanished. Jandu gripped the blade of grass. It shimmered and then grew into a long spear. It pulsed in his hand, the metal expanding and shrinking, hot to touch.

“God,” Jandu whispered. He pulled himself upright, his arm aching at the shoulder. He gingerly held the spear away from his body.

Jandu felt someone touch the back of his calf and he spun around, spear ready.

Zandi instantly crouched, hands together in supplication.

“Please! I mean you no harm,” she cried.

Jandu immediately lowered the spear. “Sorry.”

“Thank you!” Zandi touched Jandu’s feet. He leaned down to help her stand. When Zandi finally stood before him, Jandu could see that she was enormous. His head came only to her chest.

Zandi eyed the spear beside them warily. “You changed him into his shartic form.”

Jandu nodded. “Luckily, I know the Korazsharta. When you said his name, I thought I would give it a try. My friend once told me…” Jandu clenched his jaw shut. He had been doing very well without thinking of Keshan.     

“Your cleverness has saved my life,” Zandi said, smiling despite the blood trickling from her nose.

Jandu bowed his head. “It was my pleasure.” He studied the spear in his hand. “What happens if I throw this now?”

Zandi looked at the weapon with obvious fear. “You will dispel the sharta and Koraz will return to the Yashva kingdom.”

“Will he come after you again?”

“Probably.” Zandi shuddered. “We have fought for three days already.”

Jandu wondered what she had done to earn such wrath. But it was not his concern. Getting involved in the business of the Yashvas seemed like a bad idea.

“I can’t hold onto something this powerful forever,” Jandu told her. “And I can’t leave it laying around for someone else to find. If I give you a few days will you be able to escape from Koraz?”

Zandi shook her head. “It will be a hundred years before Koraz forgets my insult.” Suddenly, Zandi reached out and grabbed Jandu’s arm. “But you can hide me, beautiful Marhavadi!”

Zandi had grabbed the arm that Koraz had injured, and Jandu fought back an unmanly whimper. “How?”

“Change me into my shartic form! I will be your greatest ally,” Zandi said. “I don’t look it but I am a powerful weapon.”

“What kind of weapon?”

“Whatever weapon you most desire.” Zandi’s eyes twinkled. “What form of combat do you most excel at?”

“Archery,” Jandu said without hesitating.

“I will be your bow.”

“But I don’t know the Zandisharta.”

“Do you know the Barunazsharta? It is like that, only softer.” Zandi said, squeezing Jandu’s arm tighter. Tears sprang to Jandu’s eyes.

Jandu wondered how one uttered a sharta softly. He began speaking, changing the words of the sharta slightly, as he looked at Zandi. He wanted the sharta to fit her, feel like her, and the needed words came to him easily.

As soon as Jandu finished the sharta, Zandi began to melt. Her body softened. A shudder of revulsion shook Jandu as the flesh of Zandi’s hand turned buttery and hot, and dribbled off his arm. It pooled on the forest floor and slithered together, a bluish ooze, forming a puddle that slowly began to shift and harden.