by Astrid Amara
“Thanks.”
“How do your hands feel?” Jandu asked.
“Like someone just burned them with a branding iron.” Keshan closed his eyes.
“If I had gotten here only a few minutes earlier…”
“…You would have been killed for interfering,” Keshan said. “And all of this would be for nothing.”
Jandu brushed Keshan’s bangs off of his forehead, and blew on Keshan’s skin. Keshan closed his eyes again. “That feels nice.”
They sat there in silence for a while, Jandu blowing on Keshan’s forehead, and methodically brushing Keshan’s bangs with his fingers. He heard the popping screech of a Malabar Hornbill in the distance, the lazy lowing of cattle, the rustle of vermin in the alley. Jandu looked down at Keshan’s face. Color finally returned to his cheeks and lips, but he appeared sound asleep.
“I can’t believe everything you’ve given up for me.” Jandu said quietly. “I am unworthy of such loyalty.”
Keshan opened one eye. “Have you been disloyal?”
“That’s not what I mean.” Jandu rubbed Keshan’s back.
“What have you and Abiyar been up to these last few days?” Keshan tried smiling.
Jandu gently slapped Keshan’s back. “Nothing, thank you very much. I’m as faithful as ever. You, on the other hand, are the one with the reputation.”
“I doubt I’ll get much play now. It’s one thrill to fuck a Triya lord. It’s another circumstance entirely to screw a branded casteless untouchable.”
Jandu looked around, but no one was there, so he ran his hand along the inside of Keshan’s thigh. He could feel the tension quivering in Keshan’s muscles. “You’re still sexy as hell. I’ll screw you, Jegora or not.”
Keshan laughed quietly. “Thank God.”
“Do you want me to fetch a wet cloth for your hands?”
“No, I’ll be fine.”
“It’s beginning to turn nasty colors.”
“It’s a burn, Jandu. It’s going to look awful for a while.”
“I’m so sorry.” Jandu rested his head against Keshan’s. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be,” Keshan said. “I would have given up more than just my caste to protect you.” Keshan looked at Jandu, eyes wet with emotion. “It’s so good to see you back in your body. I’d almost forgotten how handsome you are.”
Jandu heard men approaching, so he reluctantly untangled his arm from around Keshan’s waist and pulled his hand from Keshan’s thigh. Keshan didn’t bother to lift his head from Jandu’s shoulder.
Baram and Yudar appeared at the entrance of the alleyway.
“Adaru!” Baram shouted. “Are you all right?” Jandu noticed that neither of them dared enter the alleyway. Baram was concerned for Keshan, but even he would not let an untouchable shadow fall upon him.
“I’m just tired,” Keshan said.
Yudar frowned at Jandu. “If people see you like that, they will say something. You shouldn’t be touching him. No offense, Adaru.”
Jandu extricated himself from under Keshan’s head. He grabbed Yudar by his cotton shirt and shoved him up against the dusty alley wall.
“You will change him back,” Jandu spat.
Yudar looked frightened. “What—”
“You will give me your oath now to resurrect Keshan as a Triya once you have the throne.” Jandu slammed Yudar against the brick wall harder. “That is the only reason I’m not gutting you right now, you bastard.”
Yudar held his hands up. “Of course! Of course I’ll change Keshan back! I swear it on the prophets!”
Jandu dropped Yudar, wiping his hands on his dejaru. It disgusted him to touch Yudar more than Keshan’s filthy clothes.
“I realize, Jandu, that you can’t forgive me, not after what’s happened.” Yudar’s voice shook. “But I just want you to know, I’m so sorry! I will kill myself if you ask it. Please forget this incident and live on!”
“Don’t kill yourself.” Jandu didn’t look at him. “I need you alive to elevate Keshan back to Triya status.”
“I never meant to harm you,” Yudar started.
Jandu’s rage flared and he glared at his brother. “You staked me, like a prostitute!”
“No!” Yudar fell to his knees in front of Jandu.
“You led them to my room,” Jandu said lowly. “You snuck them past the guards. You opened the door for them. You brought them to my room to rape me.” Jandu’s throat locked in horror. Every time he said the word, he wanted to die. “It would have been far kinder if you had just killed me, brother.”
Yudar began to cry. “I’ve taken a holy oath. I will never touch a set of dice again. I will never gamble again. I will not even set foot in a gaming room again. That is my promise to you.”
Jandu said nothing, and Yudar continued, crawling on the street towards Jandu’s feet. “I am in a trance when I am playing! I didn’t think. I didn’t mean to harm you. I honestly thought…” he paused, choking on his tears.
“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
THE ROYAL JUDGE’S PROCESSION LEFT THE CITY OF AFADI 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.
