More Tales of the Southern Kingdoms (One Volume Edition)

by Barbara G. Tarn

  "Yes. I'd be grateful if you could point me to a public bath," he answered politely.

  "I could offer you my private bath chamber..."

  "Thank you, my lady, but no."

  She sighed and got off the barge. A fellow rower slapped his back with a mischievous grin.

  "You should have gone with her!" He winked, and then disembarked.

  Hrithikesh shrugged and followed him to the pier. He used his time in Lakresha to find a public bath and wash away the filth. The pools were divided between men and women, but there were areas where half-naked members of both sexes could meet. Women stared openly at his muscles, and soon the boldest ones surrounded him.

  "What is your trade?" a brunette asked in the sweat room, where towels covered all lower parts, leaning forward with a propitiatory smile.

  "I've just come out of the monastery of Zindagi in Agharek," he answered, trying to ignore the glares of the few men present.

  The girl giggled. "You don't look like a monk!"

  "I'm not a monk. Yet. I may never be," he explained patiently.

  "Didn't you have a monastic life so far?" another asked, tilting her head to the side.

  "Yes and no. I could go out, visit my family, meet girls... I did have some free time."

  "So you've known women," an elder woman said, wriggling her eyebrows.

  "Yes, it was part of my education."

  When he went back to the inn for dinner, he sat with the rest of the crew and rowers. In spite of being completely dressed, the maids eyed him with mischievous smiles – much like at the public bath.

  "Would you like someone to warm up your bed tonight?" one whispered in his ear.

  "I think it's very hot already, thank you," he replied averting his eyes.

  She pouted. "Why do you reject everybody? One might think you like men."

  He stared at her, shocked. "I don't! How do you know I reject everybody?"

  "I saw you at the baths this afternoon. No one could touch you – and you are handsome." She sighed.

  "Ah." That explained why they were so taken by him. "I'm sorry, but I'm going to Leland to marry the love of my life, if that makes more sense..."

  She grinned. "Yes, that's a better answer! Good luck, young monk!"

  "I'm not..." She was already gone, serving another table. He snorted in frustration. Luckily it was time to go to sleep. And then back on the river to row – and then he'd be in Leland!

  ***

  "Leland is in sight."

  A breathless whisper, but Hrithikesh turned to check without missing the rowing tempo. His fellow rower was right, his hometown was fast approaching. Invigorated by the thought of almost being there, he rowed while his heart opened to hope – and doubt.

  What would he find? Would he be able to locate his uncle's shop? He'd dreamed of coming back so often, but suddenly he was afraid. Had things changed much? He couldn't remember the face of the old governor, but assumed he must be dead by now. If he glanced behind, he could see more buildings approaching, so the town was growing in size and population.

  Finally they reached the pier and Hrithikesh got off the barge, saying good-bye to his travel companions. He headed for the main street, looking at the buildings around him – they had aged, much like him. The city felt the same but different. Mixed among the familiar were new things that gave him a weird feeling.

  The map of the city was still quite clear in his head, but a reference point – a fountain where his mother used to do her laundry – had been replaced by a brand new two-story inn with stables. He found the street where his uncle lived, but the shops looked different – some had gone out of business and new artisans had taken their place – so he asked an old woman weaving a basket seated outside of her door if Raju's pottery shop was still there.

  She pointed him two doors ahead and he entered the shop, leaving the sunny street for the dark interior. Still, he felt immediately at home. He didn't know if it was because he actually remembered Uncle Raju's shop from his childhood, or because it was so much like his father's.

  Aunt Jasmine sat at the counter, looking much older than he remembered. He bowed in greeting and asked how she'd been.

  Surprised to hear her name from a stranger's lips, she straightened her back.

  "I'm fine." She stared at him with a puzzled expression. "Do I know you?"

  He smiled and nodded. "Hrithikesh, Auntie."

  She gasped in recognition.

  "Oh my... of course, you have Sajid's smile!" She rose from her stool to take a closer look at him. "Gods, you've grown up," she added, noticing he was now a full head taller than her. "Or maybe I've shrunk, who knows."

  "It's been... years," he said. "You're still most beautiful. How is Uncle Raju?"

  "Still working very hard, with the help of your cousin Kiran. When I think that your father had to leave because two potters were too much for this town..." She shook her head with a sigh.

  "It expanded," he admitted. "So you think Father could come back? He could leave the shop in Agharek to Kareena and her husband..."

  "No, it's not a good place for business," she said. "Lots of extra taxes... I thought he sent you for help."

  "I'm not a potter, Auntie."

  "Oh! You better tell that to your uncle, then. Are you here to stay?"

  "Yes, Auntie, at least for a month or two. If I can find a job and my bride."

  She chuckled. "Bride, huh? Weren't there any nice girls down at the capital?" She patted his cheek. "No worries. I'll prepare a pallet for you in your cousin's room. Your uncle is in the workshop, you remember where it is?"

  He nodded and headed for the back door that led to a courtyard. On the other side of the courtyard was the workshop of Uncle Raju, a square building with a flat roof that faced the two-story house and shop.

  Unlike his father, Uncle Raju had lost all his hair. But he immediately recognized the visitor.

  "Hrithikesh! You look just like Sajid at your age!" The potter rose to give his nephew a hug, careful to keep his clay-covered hands away from Hrithikesh's clothes. "What brings you to Leland?"

  "I have completed my education and I'm here to pick my bride." Hrithikesh looked fondly at his father's brother. Uncle Raju still had that happy-go-lucky disposition he remembered so well. "You look good, Uncle. Father misses you."

  "And I miss him! Remember Kiran?" The potter pointed at a young man who was staring intently at Hrithikesh.

  "I wouldn't have recognized him if I'd met him in the streets," Hrithikesh admitted. "He was still a child when I left."

  "So were you!" Uncle Raju said with a chuckle while Kiran smiled.

  "I was thirteen!" Hrithikesh protested. "He was ten!"

  Much like her – too young to think about marriage. Has she waited for me?

  "I'm sure Kareena has grown up too," Kiran said. "Is she married?"

  "Yes. You?"

  Kiran's smile vanished. "Not yet."

  "What kind of education did you have?" Uncle Raju asked, washing his hands in a basin of clean water set on a little table away from the workstation.

  "When father realized Kareena was a better potter than I'd ever be, he suggested I go to the monastery behind the temple of Zindagi."

  "So poverty was still an issue in Agharek." Uncle Raju nodded, thoughtful.

  No, my anger was an issue he couldn't handle, Hrithikesh thought. But he wasn't angry anymore, and his uncle probably remembered the shy boy who had left Leland fifteen years earlier and assumed the most obvious reason young men went to a monastery.

  "I wish we had something like that in Leland too," the potter continued with a sigh. "A temple or a monastery that could give further education to our youth. We could use it because the basic education of an artisan isn't enough to thrive anymore."

  He guided his nephew outside into the courtyard, where a stone bench rested in the shadow of a neighbor's balcony. The pair sat together and Uncle Raju took out his pipe and lowered his voice.

  "Although Kiran is
not made for that. You were always very clever. I'm glad Sajid sent you to the monks. What did they teach you?"

  "I've learned to read, write and calculate. I've read the classics, and the philosophy and history books available in the monastery library." Books had become his second true love and he was grateful he'd had the opportunity to find them. When he lost himself in epic tales of gods and heroes, he forgot how powerless he was in his own life.

  "Your mother had a very bright mind," Uncle Raju said. "Unfortunately she couldn't afford to study. Here in Leland things were never that easy. She was the one who suggested they move to the capital when surviving here became too hard."

  So that was the reason. He'd never discussed it with his parents, since he was too young to question their decisions. And he had blamed his father, as head of the house, for the move. He mentally asked for forgiveness, though he'd have to apologize properly when he went back.

  "I've learned to appreciate Zindagi in all her forms. I think I was made for that life," Hrithikesh said, thoughtful. The training had boosted his confidence, given him self-respect and taught him control. It had definitely been a good thing.

  "Still, quite a monastic life." Uncle Raju sighed. "Did you manage to get to know women?"

  "Yes, Uncle, that was part of the training." Hrithikesh rolled his eyes. "Why is everybody so concerned about my supposed virginity? I'll know what to do when my sweetheart agrees to marry me!"

  "I see." His uncle chuckled. "So you've come to propose. Let me guess... Might it be the blacksmith's daughter who cried for a week after you were gone?"

  Hrithikesh's heart missed a beat. "She did?"

  "Of course that was fifteen years ago," Uncle Raju continued, grinning from ear to ear.

  "Oh. So she's married now?" he asked, fearing the worst. He even choked on the last word and gulped. In spite of his backup plan, he'd never really considered the possibility. He felt crushed and stared at his uncle, hoping for the right answer, his heart thundering in his chest.

  Uncle Raju stared at him with a twinkle in his eyes before leaning forward to whisper, "No." Then his smile faded away. He leaned back and averted his eyes. "But she says she'll never marry, and I can't blame her. Much like Kiran."

  "Why, what's wrong with getting married?" Hrithikesh asked, puzzled.

  "Nothing, in Agharek. But in Leland..." Uncle Raju shook his head with a sigh.

  "What about Leland?" Hrithikesh insisted, worried. He had never thought she might not want to marry at all. His stomach tightened as he tried to figure out a worst-case scenario. Going back to the monastery and taking the vows suddenly sounded awful.

  "Things have changed here, Hrithikesh. There's a new governor, and he has the right to lie with your bride before you. Unlike his predecessors, he enforces that right. I've only seen him pass up on widows who remarried or really ugly girls. All the young brides have had to sleep with him first. That's why there are no more virgin brides in Leland. Whenever a match is decided, it's consummated before the actual wedding."

  "Goddess!" Hrithikesh was shocked. "There must be dozens of bastards around!"

  Fatherhood was another way of honoring Zindagi, but not by sleeping with other men's wives.

  Uncle Raju shrugged. "Pareevash knows what she wants. She's been driving her father crazy with her refusal to marry. But if you take her away, you may stand a chance..."

  Hrithikesh's heart filled with hope.

  ***

  The next morning, Hrithikesh woke up excited. Kiran had promised to take him around the town to see how things had changed and meet people.

  Aunt Jasmine sent them off with a couple of errands and Kiran guided Hrithikesh through the cobbled streets. Away from his parents' ears, Kiran was very chatty and asked many questions about life at the capital in between greeting people and explaining the changes that had taken place.

  "Everybody looks so grim and gloomy," Hrithikesh said when they reached the market square. "Are things this bad in Leland?"

  "Taxes are heavy on artisans and small traders," Kiran answered with a shrug. "The governor pays the king's taxes with our money and keeps amassing wealth. He built a brand-new palace over there, see?" He pointed at a big building towering over the smaller houses. It was made with the local gray stone, but had three floors, mullioned windows and sculpted balconies. Though not as opulent as the royal palace, it still stood out.

  "Does the king know his governor is building a kingdom within the kingdom?" Hrithikesh asked with a frown. He knew in Akkora the government was in the hands of local governors, but maybe this particular man relied too much on the fact that Leland was closer to its neighboring kingdom, Rajendra, than it was to the capital.

  "No," Kiran answered. "Lord Kibriya sends regular taxes and has either killed or bought all the spies. Not to mention the people who died building his palace. He's a vicious man, Hrithik, I doubt the king could do much against him. He knows how to handle everything – he acts humble to the powerful people and acts powerful to the humble people."

  Hrithikesh pursed his lips, thoughtful.

  "I was in a monastery, not at the court, but I saw something like that in the temple. Unlike the monks, who considered themselves brothers, the priests had their own little court, and the abbot showed us what happens on a grander scale at the royal palace and every government building in the country. The high priest was a good person, but before him there was an ambitious man who shouldn't have been ordained, especially not to honor Zindagi. He was removed by his own priests."

  "So did the abbot tell you how to do it?" Kiran asked.

  "Use words first, and when those fail, hit a little harder – without killing anyone. But that's our secret technique, and I won't disclose it for now." He grinned at his cousin. "Besides, I'm not here on behalf of the king, I'm here to rekindle my relationship with my hometown! I see so many new faces around..."

  "To replace the dead," Kiran grumbled.

  A squadron of horsemen came out of the palace at a gallop and people quickly jumped out of the way.

  "Recognize any?" Kiran continued, sarcastic. "Most of your friends joined the Governor's Guard."

  "Really?" Hrithikesh was puzzled. Why artisans' sons would become guards was beyond him. Their future was in their family trade, unless that trade went out of business. But before that, the family would move away, like his father had done fifteen years earlier.

  "The first was Lokesh, who decided he didn't want to be a blacksmith," Kiran said. Hrithikesh's heart missed a beat. "Since he was so popular, many followed."

  "So who's going to be the next blacksmith?" he asked. Pareevash wasn't suited for the job. If her brother gave up...

  "Lokesh's cousin, Farhan. He traded place with Pareevash. She was apprenticed to her dressmaker uncle who sent his son to learn the blacksmith's trade."

  Hrithikesh sighed in relief. Pareevash had become a dressmaker. If she was any good – which he was sure she was – she'd have plenty of work at the capital. Maybe she could even become the personal dressmaker of a princess.

  "There she is." Kiran pointed at a fabrics vendor. "Her uncle must have sent her for supplies."

  Breathless, Hrithikesh stared at the woman bargaining with the seller for two pieces of cloth.

  Zindagi, she's beautiful! He couldn't take his eyes off of her.

  She had grown into a fine young woman – not too tall, with the right curves at the right places... And then she picked up her purchases and smiled at the vendor. There were those dimples again. After fifteen years, her smile was still the same.

  His childhood crush exploded into full-blown love at first sight. Waiting all those years... she was worth coming back for!

  Kiran elbowed him, but he moved towards her instead.

  "Hello, Pareevash," he said, blocking her way. Though he gave her his brightest smile, she frowned.

  "What do you want?" she snapped.

  "I came back, as promised," he replied, feeling butterflies in his belly. It seemed so weird
to talk to her again, like something from a dream... "Sorry it took so long..."

  "I'm not waiting for anyone." She tried to pass, but he grabbed her arm. "Hey, hands off!" she protested.

  "I was told you cried for a week when I left." He was disappointed by the response so far. Had his uncle exaggerated? "Is it true? Do you remember that I promised to come back? Because for the last fifteen years I never stopped thinking of you..."

  Her eyes widened in surprise – the same baby blues he could never forget. "Hrithikesh?"

  He nodded with a grin and let her go, relieved. She dropped her purchases and threw her arms around his neck.

  "You came back!" she giggled. Then she pulled away and composed herself. "But why?" Her smile vanished as she picked up her things. "This snake-hole isn't worth coming back to."

  "But you are," he replied, helping her. They both stood at the same time and she flashed another dimpled smile at him.

  "You're sweet, Hrithik. But you should have stayed away."

  He was too stunned to reply to that, so she walked around him and left him standing in the street.

  A chuckle reminded him of Kiran's presence.

  "I didn't know you came back for her," his cousin said. "I almost stole her from you years ago, but I wasn't aware you had a claim on her."

  "I guess she didn't believe me." He sighed. "But I did promise her I'd come back and marry her."

  "Obviously it took you too long." Kiran shrugged. "Now you'll have to woo her all over again!"

  That was another thing he hadn't considered. His only thoughts had been that she'd either be waiting for him, or she'd have married somebody else. This turn of events was unforeseen, but interesting. And she was worth it, so why not. Courtship, talking to her family, and then...

  "Who's your friend, Kiran?" The two mounted guards were about Hrithikesh's age, and the one who'd spoken had a never-forgotten cockiness that told his identity before Kiran's reply.

  "It's my cousin, Lokesh," Kiran snapped. "Don't you recognize your old friends?"

  Lokesh scoffed. "He always preferred playing with my sister or my dumb cousin Farhan," he retorted. "Where have you been, Hrithikesh?"