The Archer's Heart (50 page)

“You thought what?” Jandu said coldly.

“I thought… I could win.” Yudar covered his eyes with his hands and sobbed.

Jandu stared down at his brother. There had been a time when he had loved Yudar more than anyone on this earth. This was his brother, his king. The man had practically raised him. He had been Jandu’s hero.

Jandu tried to find a flicker of compassion in his heart. But now he felt nothing.

Yudar reached for Jandu’s feet, but Jandu pulled them away.

“Don’t touch me.” Jandu backed away from Yudar. “I will come with you to Prasta. I will protect you from harm and I will fight for your throne if need be. But until you give Keshan back what was stolen, I will not forgive you.” Jandu moved to Keshan’s side protectively. Jandu glared at Yudar, daring him to say something about the unhygienic contact.

Yudar nodded. “I’m sorry, Jandu.” He stood shakily. He turned to Baram, wiping his eyes. “We should prepare for the journey to Prasta.”

Baram nodded, but he hesitated in the alleyway after Yudar left. “Your sacrifice will never be forgotten by me, Adaru.”

Keshan smiled weakly and waved as Baram left. When they were gone, Keshan dropped his head on Jandu’s shoulder once more.

Jandu kissed the top of his head. “Listen to me.”

Keshan yawned. “All right.”

“Whatever happens in Prasta, I want you by my side,” Jandu said. “I don’t care if you’re disgraced. I don’t care what people say.”

“Well, I’m certainly not staying in this alley.” Keshan smiled with a hint of his old assurance. “You may need me. I doubt Darvad will just give up half of Marhavad without a fight.”

Jandu nodded. After the last three years he’d endured, he looked forward to the fight.

Chapter 44

T
HE
R
OYAL
J
UDGE’S PROCESSION LEFT THE CITY OF
A
FADI
amidst the local populace’s fanfare. The long, dusty snake of chariots, soldiers, cavalry, oxen, carts, and servants stretched ahead of Keshan in a long procession. The only people behind Keshan were the other Jegora, clustered together at the rear, eyes staunchly cast downward. But even among them there were whispers of Jandu Paran’s triumph over the Chandamar cavalry. The story had begun with Abiyar and then steadily passed down through the ranks of servants and soldiers. Now even Jegora stole furtive, worshipful glances at Jandu as if he were a prophet of old.

Jandu started at the front of the procession, traveling with Tarek, his brothers, Indarel, and Indarel’s sons. He was the hero of the city. A young man next to Keshan described how Jandu had ripped a chariot apart with his bare hands and killed hundreds of men with a single word. Keshan just nodded and smiled. Stories describing Jandu’s effort to save Afadi were repeated everywhere Keshan went.

As they neared the river, Keshan saw Jandu walking counter to the procession, coming to join him at the rear. A fist tightened around Keshan’s heart at the thought of Jandu’s loyalty.

The monsoon rains still hadn’t fallen and the earth was dry, begging for water. The skies bloated with moisture, and yet none fell. Dirt puffed around Jandu’s feet as he walked.

The heavy sun glinted off of Zandi, strapped to Jandu’s back, and the bow seemed like a streak of light piercing Jandu’s silver armor. Layers of dust covered Jandu’s armor and skin. He had taken off his heavy helmet in the morning, and now his hair was gray with dirt. All around him, Suya and Chaya stooped to take dust from Jandu’s feet.

Jandu smiled at Keshan. He didn’t cower from the other Jegora, a testament to how much Jandu had matured, that he could walk alongside the untouchables without flinching.

“Keshan.” He reached out and touched Keshan’s bare shoulder affectionately.

Keshan smiled back, loving the way Jandu’s low voice rumbled his name, the soft, yet fierce way Jandu always spoke to him. Even the quick touch they shared gave Keshan strength. He was a tactile person, and not being able to touch people hurt his pride more than he wanted to admit. He was truly beginning to feel the impact of the sacrifice he had made.

“How do you feel?” Jandu asked, falling in place alongside Keshan. The procession marched forward slowly. Those at the beginning crossed the bridge over the Patari River.

“I’d feel better if you didn’t ask me that every hour,” Keshan teased. “What’s happening up at the front of the line?”

Jandu shrugged. “Politics. Nothing of interest.” He flashed Keshan a wicked grin.

“Oh come on, tell me,” Keshan said, laughing.

“Yudar is attempting to woo Tarek to his side. Indarel has attached himself to our family like glue. And messenger pigeons were sent to Prasta, alerting them to our pending arrival.” Jandu reached into the quiver strapped to his back and pulled out a roll and a wedge of cheese bundled in cloth. He slipped these into Keshan’s hands.

The softness of the bread brought tears to Keshan’s eyes. For the last two days, as the Parans had prepared to journey east, Keshan had discovered the brutal truth of how unpleasant untouchable food was. The quality of the ingredients was poor and the choices few. Keshan immediately sank his teeth into the bread, luxuriating in the crisp, toasty outer layer contrasting with the buttery insides of the bread, melting in his mouth.

“Thank you,” Keshan whispered, as soon as he was done with his roll and cheese. Jandu said nothing. He just walked alongside his friend, squinting off into the distance.

As the long procession crossed the river, their pace slowed. Soldiers took in the scarred earth, charred ground and scraps of decaying carrion remaining from Jandu’s battle with the Chandamar raiders. Even with the dead men and horses cremated, a stench of decay permeated the air. Keshan felt the leftovers of shartas in the atmosphere like scars. The very air seemed thinner, fragile, as if stretched to breaking.

Jandu grew silent as they walked by the sight of his carnage. He adjusted his sword belt self-consciously.

Keshan furtively touched Jandu’s fingers. “You did a good thing here.”

“Ah. Well…” Jandu blushed, and looked towards the summer retreat. “There was no alternative.”

Keshan watched Jandu’s cheeks grow flush with a combination of pride and shyness, yet another sign of how different he was from when Keshan had first met him. The Jandu he had known years ago would have bragged about this victory to every man he met. Now Jandu looked pensive, keeping his eyes focused on the retreat.

Women poured from the summer house, and the procession halted. Baram already stood beside the gate with Suraya at his side. They scanned the crowd, obviously looking for Jandu.

As soon as she spotted him, Suraya ran towards Jandu, throwing her arms around him.

“How are you?” she asked, pulling back to look into Jandu’s eyes.

“Fine.” He smiled and touched her head. “You?”

“Ready to return to Prasta.” Suraya turned to Keshan with an equally large smile. “It’s wonderful to see you again, Keshan.” She reached out to hug him, but Baram suddenly jerked her back.

“Wait, Suraya,” Baram said quietly.

Suraya froze, staring in shock at Keshan’s hands. He self-consciously looked down himself at the blackened, charred marks. The pain had subsided greatly since Jandu had used the Yashva cure, but every time he flexed his hands the skin cracked and broke the scabs, causing a sharp sting.

Suraya stood like a statue, her arms still outstretched to embrace him, her glance glued to his hands.

“Hello, Suraya,” Keshan said amiably, trying his best to act like nothing unusual had occurred. “You look ravishing as always.”

Jandu smirked. “Don’t listen to Keshan. You look like shit, Suraya. Did you stop eating or something? Why are you so skinny and pale?”

Jandu rubbed her back affectionately, which seemed to break Suraya out of her stunned immobility. She shook her head as if to clear it, dropping her arms to her sides.

“I was worried about you, you fool.” She frowned at the Jegora all around them. “Keshan? What are you going to do now?”

Keshan shrugged. “I’m taking it one day at a time.”

Jandu put his hand on Keshan’s shoulder. Keshan didn’t miss the small gasp of surprise from Suraya.

“When we get to the capital, I’ll help him find lodgings,” Jandu said.

“I can manage on my own, Jandu,” Keshan said.

Jandu’s blue eyes burned brightly. “I’m coming with you, like it or not.”

Keshan sighed. He was going to become a burden to those who loved him.

“I packed our things from the summer house,” Suraya said. “Some of the belongings are yours, Keshan. What should I do with them?”

“Keep them,” Jandu spoke for Keshan. “He’ll want them back when he’s Triya again.”

Suraya bit her lip as she looked at Jandu sympathetically. She turned away.

“Suraya?” Keshan called out.

“Yes?”

“Can you fetch my saddle bag for me? There’s something I want Jandu to have.”

Suraya smiled, and then left.

The procession began its way forward once more, moving slowly past the retreat. A few minutes later, Baram returned, carrying Keshan’s bag.

“Here you go,” Baram said, handing the bag to Jandu so he wouldn’t have to touch Keshan. Keshan knew better than to be offended, but he felt it all the same. “I should join Yudar and Suraya up at the front.” Baram looked to Jandu. “Are you coming?”

“No. I’ll walk with Keshan a while.”

Baram grimaced at the Jegora around him. “Are you sure?”

“Yes.” Jandu’s expression was hard.

“I’ll see you later, then.” Baram returned to his proper place as a Triya, at the front of the line.

Jandu opened the saddle bag. “What’s the present?” He pulled out the small tin of rose oil that they had used when making love. A rich blush covered his cheeks. “Is this it, you pervert?”

Keshan laughed. “No.” He took the bag from Jandu and searched through it. He handed Firdaus’ dice to Jandu.

Jandu scowled at the dice. “What are these for? To remind me of all the terrible things that have happened?”

“They’re Firdaus’ dice,” Keshan said. Jandu immediately looked sick at the very mention of his name. Keshan’s voice softened. “They’re enchanted.”

Jandu narrowed his eyes. “What do you mean? They’re Yashva dice?”

“It’s a simple Yashva curse. He must have used them at both the dice games in Prasta, and with your brother in Afadi. He can use a spell to select the side that is rolled.”

Jandu clenched them in his hands. “That bastard.”

“Give them to Yudar,” Keshan told him. “If there are any problems with his ascension, use them as evidence.”

Jandu sighed angrily, and then pocketed the dice. He walked in stony silence for a few more minutes. When he spoke again, he kept his gaze up ahead toward his brothers.

“Thank you,” he said softly.

“What for?” Keshan asked.

“For everything.” Jandu sighed. “For saving me. For staying by me while I went to pieces. For finding these. For all that you’ve given up. Thank you.”

The other untouchables around them watched with interest, and so Keshan could not give in to his desire to kiss Jandu then and there. But he did furtively squeeze his fingers once more.

“You know, when you agreed to fight beside me if there is a war, I never asked if you wanted to,” Jandu said. He kept his glance up ahead at the cavalry. “After all, you are allied with Darvad. I shouldn’t have assumed anything.”

“Darvad will not let me fight, ally or no.” Keshan held up his hand. “I’m dead to him now. I’m dead to everyone.”

“That’s to my advantage then,” Jandu said, smiling. “Besides, we’ve never had a chance to try Mendraz’s chariot.”

“That’s true,” Keshan said.

“But changing your allegiances…”

“You are fighting to free me from being Jegora,” Keshan interrupted. “And I’m fighting to free you from Darvad’s endless obsession with seeing you dead. It’s a fair trade as far as I can see.”

“If you think so,” Jandu said.

“I do. Now you should probably go back up to the front,” Keshan said, although he feared being abandoned, forgotten, at the end of the line. The Jegora who he traveled with had been very kind and accommodating, giving him a place to sleep and sandals from a man who had only recently been killed—perhaps even one of the lives that Jandu himself had claimed on the battlefield. But they were strangers, and Keshan felt a desperate loneliness with them.

“I don’t want to,” Jandu said. “I’ll take my place in the chariot once we enter Prasta, but until then I’ll stay with you.”

“People will talk.”

“Let them. All that matters from this point forward is what my heart dictates. And it is very clear on the issue of you.” Jandu smiled, and touched Keshan’s shoulder once more, lending Keshan his strength.

Keshan blinked. He reminded himself that he once thought Jandu shallow and stupid.
And now look at him
, Keshan thought.
He’s turned into my hero.

“What?” Jandu looked at Keshan quizzically. “You’re looking at me funny.”

“Can you get me another one of those rolls for dinner?” Keshan asked, changing the subject.

“Anything you desire.” Jandu noticed that one of the untouchables nearby stared at them openly. “What about you? You want a roll?”

“M…My lord…” the man shrank back in line, as if he could step away from Jandu’s piercing gaze.

“I’ll bring enough for two,” Jandu whispered to Keshan.

Keshan just shook his head.

“What?” Jandu asked.

“You are not the same Jandu I fell in love with,” Keshan said.

Jandu’s mouth quirked up. “Is that a bad thing?”

“You are better. Wiser.” Keshan squeezed Jandu’s fingers softly. “And I love you more for it.”

Chapter 45

J
ANDU HAD NEARLY FORGOTTEN HOW BEAUTIFUL
P
RASTA WAS.

The city opened to his eyes like a fanciful childhood memory, the low stone walls and large marble temples, and in the center of it all, the sprawling red island of the palace. The monsoon had blessed Prasta where it had ignored Afadi, and now all the trees bloomed in brilliant color, their foliage thick, their bows laden with fruit. The fragrance of blossoms filled the air, and the ground was fresh and clean with the last of the rainfall behind them.

Jandu was home.

And it was a joyous homecoming, as thousands of citizens poured into the streets to greet their long lost Crown Prince. Jandu and his brothers feared what sort of support they could expect after the dice game. But it was clear that many were still loyal to the Paran family, and now flowers and silk cloths rained down upon their procession as wild cheers chanted Yudar’s name through the streets.

Yudar looked like a king once more. He was far skinnier than when he left, his hair streaked with gray, his eyes sunk, and still bruised from Baram’s rage, but he stood erect and proud, smiling and waving to the crowds serenely. Their progress to the palace slowed to a crawl as Triya lords in their chariots joined the procession, allies of Yudar riding alongside him and offering their blessings.

Jandu yearned to return to the back of the line. He wondered what Keshan was doing now. He wouldn’t be allowed into the palace. On Jandu’s insistence, they arranged a meeting location for later that night, so that Jandu could help him find lodgings. But Keshan’s absence now made the homecoming less sweet.

At the palace gates, former servants and courtiers for the Parans greeted them affectionately. Jandu smiled as men bowed before him and touched his feet. The attention flustered him. In the crowd, Jandu made out the silver hair of his Mazar, and pushed his way towards him. Mazar saw him at the same time and the two hugged.

Jandu dropped and touched Mazar’s feet, emotion welling deep inside of him. “Blessings upon you, Master,” he said.

Mazar looked too choked up to speak. He shook his head and lifted Jandu up.

“My dear boy! How I’ve missed you.” They hugged once more, and then Mazar greeted Baram and Yudar. He offered the sign of peace to Suraya and she touched his feet.

Jandu followed Mazar, his brothers and Suraya through the palace. Faces he had all but forgotten appeared. He was stunned by the opulence. They passed a chair studded with rubies, a statue of pure gold, miles of silks draped casually around the airy interiors. It was obscene. Jandu realized he could have fed the entire village in Pagdesh with one foot stool from this one corridor in the palace.

Darvad and his courtiers awaited the Parans in the reception hall. Jandu steeled his expression as he looked upon his rival.

Darvad purposefully wore the crown of Marhavad and sat in the throne. “Brothers. Welcome home.”

“Greetings, Darvad.” Yudar brought his hands together in the sign of peace. “We are pleased to return, after having served our three years of penance.”

Darvad smiled thinly. “Please, take a seat. Mazar, will you join us?”

Baram, Suraya, and Mazar joined Darvad on the dais. The room quickly filled with lords and courtiers. Jandu stood behind his brothers, leaning against the wall. They were all tired and dirty from their travels, but it was obvious that no respite would be had now that they returned. It was straight to business.

Mazar fawned over the Parans and had servants bring tea. Indarel and his sons took seats in the hall, along with the other lords of Marhavad who were in the capital. Jandu caught Abiyar’s eye as he sat nervously beside his brothers. Jandu winked at him. Abiyar grinned back happily. Soon the room was filled to capacity, everyone expectant.

Mazar cleared his throat, and held out his arms to bring the room to silence.

“Great lords of Marhavad,” he began, “let me welcome King Shandarvan’s sons back from their penance. Their dedication to righting the wrongs of three years ago has served as a great example to the entire nation, and I look forward to a peaceful future with both Yudar and Darvad leading our country to peace and prosperity.”

Darvad coughed.

Mazar looked to him, annoyed. “Yes, King?”

“We have some issues which must be addressed before we divide the kingdom.” Darvad turned slightly to face Jandu. “But before we go into details, I must ask for a report from my Royal Judge.”

Tarek stepped forward. He looked weary. He embraced Darvad, and Darvad offered him a seat beside him. “Are the rumors I’ve heard true? Was Firdaus killed by Keshan for raping Jandu?”

Jandu wanted to sink into the floor and disappear as everyone in the room looked to him. Their snickers and heated whispers rankled. When he saw Darvad smile, he realized Darvad had said it for just that purpose.

Baram stood up in fury. “Leave Jandu out of this!”

“It is true,” Tarek said. He frowned at Jandu. For a moment, Jandu thought he saw sympathy in his eyes. But then Tarek turned to face Darvad once more. “Keshan assisted the Parans during their exile, and has been branded an outcaste and stripped of his Triya status.”

The noise in the room grew.

Darvad frowned. “That is very unfortunate. But it is the law.”

“However, no one else aided the Parans, and they have served out their three years in anonymity,” Tarek added.

Darvad gave Tarek a sharp look. “That isn’t for you to decide.”

“The terms of the dice game stated that my family and I would spend three years in exile as penance, as set forth in the example of the great Prophet Sadeshar,” Yudar interrupted. “We have done as we promised. And now we return to Prasta to fulfill the wishes of Regent Mazar, and claim our half of the kingdom.” Yudar stared hard at Darvad. “As you promised.”

Darvad shook his head. “I would love to honor your request, Yudar, but you broke the terms of the penance.”

“No we did not.” Yudar’s face flushed with emotion. “We have suffered greatly, and deserve forgiveness for my sins.”

“They have fulfilled the terms of the game,” Mazar repeated.

Darvad smiled. He nodded to a servant who came forward and handed Darvad an arrow. The tip bent awkwardly and the fletching was stained with blood. But Jandu still recognized it as one of his own arrows. He felt suddenly sick.

“Recognize this, Jandu?” Darvad said, holding out the arrow. “It was pulled from the throat of Druv Majeo, lord of Pagdesh. He found you on the mountain, and rather than start your exile over, you murdered him.”

Yudar and Baram turned and gaped at Jandu, the shock clear.

Jandu crossed his arms over his chest. “That is a lie. That arrow could have been collected anywhere, from any of the Chandamarian soldiers I killed. Or from an animal carcass.”

“I saw Druv’s body with my own eyes!” Darvad cried, the vein in his forehead pulsing. “You killed him!”

“It is your word against mine.”

“I have witnesses!” Darvad screeched, his voice rising in his anger.

Yudar had been staring at Jandu with a look of pain on his face. He looked betrayed. Jandu thought he deserved it. But then Yudar reached into his pocket and pulled out Firdaus’ dice. “Whether or not that arrow was taken from Druv does not matter. The cheating began long before Druv met his end.” Yudar handed the dice to Mazar.

Mazar frowned. “What are these?”

“Enchanted Yashva dice,” Yudar said calmly. “Keshan Adaru took them from Firdaus. They were used at the dice game.”

Jandu was grateful his brother at least had the tact not to mention the other game they were used at.

“What nonsense!” Darvad said. “Those could be taken from anyone as well! Keshan himself may have enchanted them!”

Mazar shook his head. “So much deception. What hope has Marhavad, when its noblest sons cannot be honest?”

As the voices began to rise again, Yudar stood. “We have served three years, Darvad. I demand my half of the kingdom, as is my right.”

Darvad’s face was red with rage. “I will not give you Prasta!” Darvad shouted. “I will not give you anything! Not a fucking village! Do you understand me? Go back into exile!”

“No.” Yudar took a deep breath. His expression was resolute. “You force my hand in this, half-brother. But as we have fulfilled our end of the agreement, it is up to you to fulfill yours. Either I am given back my half of the kingdom or we declare war.”

There was a dangerous silence. The men in the room watched Darvad closely for reaction. The vein in his forehead bulged angrily.

“I will give you
nothing
.” Darvad hissed.

“Then it is war,” Yudar said, his voice shaking slightly now. He raised an eyebrow towards Mazar. “Master?”

Mazar had tears in his eyes, and was shaking his head. “Yudar… I swore an oath when Darvad became King to fight at his side. It is my fate!”

Jandu could no longer stay silent. “Has it ever occurred to you, oh great Master, that fate can be changed, if only strong men are willing to question it?”

“What are you saying?” Mazar asked.

 “That you should follow your heart.”

“My heart and my vow are on different paths.” Mazar closed his eyes. “I cannot retract a holy oath. You know better than to ask me to do so.”

“You’ll fight me?” Jandu asked softly. “Fight us all?”

Mazar didn’t answer. He covered his face with his hands.

Darvad suddenly stood. “We should set a date at the end of the monsoons. You will rally your allies, and I mine.”

“Two months time, then,” Yudar stated. “Astrologers will identify an auspicious day. We shall bring our forces to Terashu Field.”

Darvad nodded. “Two months time, I will see you on the battlefield.”