by Astrid Amara
Inside, Yudar still conferred with Lord Indarel, the two of them leaning over a large side-table with a map and small stones representing the units. Yudar smiled when Jandu entered the tent. But as soon as he saw Keshan, the smile slipped from his face.
“I need to speak with my brother alone,” Yudar told Indarel. Indarel nodded and left quickly, avoiding looking at Keshan altogether.
Jandu moved forward, as did Keshan. Yudar scowled at Keshan. “I said, alone.” Yudar grabbed Jandu’s arm and led him into the small private chamber of his tent. Inside, the space was warmly lit with a dozen butter lamps and incense burned on the floor. The bed was a thick stack of mats and cotton sheets, and looked invitingly comfortable. But Yudar would not be sleeping in his bed tonight. As was tradition, Yudar and Darvad would both sleep in their chariots, at the edge of the battlefield, until their armies joined them at sunrise.
“What is he doing here?” Yudar whispered.
Jandu frowned. “Who? Keshan?”
Yudar sighed. “Jandu, he is outcaste.”
Jandu squared his shoulders. “Not to me. I will not treat him as such.”
“I appreciate your loyalty to our cousin,” Yudar spoke carefully, choosing his words as if expecting Jandu to punch him. “And I stand by my promise to restore his caste once I’m king. But until then, I must ask you to not be seen with him in public.”
“I don’t particularly care what you think I should do.” Jandu crossed his arms.
Yudar glared. “What do you think this war is about? How are we going to fight for and maintain the honor of our family if you are flaunting your disregard of the status of caste?”
Jandu clenched his jaw tightly to keep from saying all the curses he wanted to spew at his brother.
“You are going to ruin the reputation of the Paran household at the very moment we need to blaze as representatives of morality and tradition,” Yudar continued. “You must keep your distance.”
“Keshan is going to be my charioteer,” Jandu told him.
Yudar’s eyes widened. “You can’t be serious.”
“Of course I am.” Jandu walked away from him. He angrily pushed through the cloth flap and entered the main tent.
“Jandu, wait!” Yudar followed him. “Think with your head, not with your heart!”
Baram and Suraya suddenly entered the main tent, laughing, flushed from their evening exertions. War or no war, they were enraptured with their renewed marital state. But one look at Jandu’s expression had them both frozen in place.
“What’s going on?” Baram demanded. He let go of Suraya’s hand.
“Keshan has volunteered to be my charioteer.” Jandu stood beside Keshan defiantly. “And I have accepted.”
Yudar sank in his gilded chair. “That is unacceptable. The charioteers have pride, Jandu. They will be offended if we allow a Jegora to act as one of them.”
“I can give Jandu an advantage no one else can.” Keshan spoke so softly that Jandu could barely hear him. “I have the boon to summon the chariot of Mendraz, King of the Yashvas. And only a Yashva can drive it.”
“I’m sorry, Adaru.” Yudar spoke lowly, like he did when he was Royal Judge, passing an unfavorable judgment. “But we cannot sully our family’s name, not now when so much hangs in the balance. We must regain the Prasta throne first. Until I am king, you are Jegora and must remain in the Jegora part of the camp. We are all grateful for the sacrifices you have made. But if you love Jandu as much as we do, you will keep your distance from him, and allow him to find an honorable charioteer.”
Keshan bowed his head again. His lips had gone white. “I want nothing that will hurt Jandu or sully his name. ”
Keshan moved to leave. To see Keshan accept defeat so easily sparked deep anger in Jandu. Yudar would, for the sake of honor, turn his back on a man who’d lost everything for helping their family. He grabbed Keshan by the wrist.
“You aren’t going anywhere.” Jandu was surprised by the calmness in his own voice. His heart hammered in his chest, but his words came out smoothly, almost dully. He looked his brother Yudar in the eye. “Keshan and I will not be separated.”
“You need to leave Adaru alone!” Yudar shouted. “He will disgrace us all!”
A ringing filled Jandu’s ears. “No, I will not leave him.”
Yudar slammed his fist against the arm rest of his chair. “How dare you—”
“Keshan is my lover.”
It was as if the world stopped spinning.
The eyes of his family turned toward him. The tent, the camp, the music and the chanting all seemed to fade. In the maddening quiet, Jandu heard the grunts of horses over twenty meters away.
“What?” Yudar stammered.
Jandu spoke without emotion, spoke as if stating the weather. “Keshan and I are lovers. We have been lovers for years. Nothing will separate us.”
The terrible silence continued.
And then Baram roared. He exploded towards Keshan, grabbing him by the throat. “How dare you!”
Automatically Jandu’s hand went to his sword and in one fluid motion he had the blade pressed against Baram’s neck.
“—Let him go, Baram,” Jandu said. “It’s not his fault.”
“He’s corrupted you!” Baram hissed.
“It was my choice as much as his.” Jandu watched revulsion wash across Baram’s face.
Baram released Keshan and Keshan came to Jandu’s side.
Jandu lowered his sword. Keshan, usually so self-assured, looked frightened. Jandu nodded to him. Whatever happened next, they would endure together.
Yudar had gone white at the first mention of the word “lover.” Now color was coming back to his face, bright red and angry. Jandu watched the flush creep up his face, watched his eyes bulge.
“What have you done?” Yudar hissed. He stared at Jandu as if he were a stranger. “What have you done!”
“It doesn’t matter what Keshan and I do in private,” Jandu said. “What does matter is this war. Together, Keshan and I are the most powerful weapon in your arsenal. I need him beside me to win.”
“You have been lying to me all this time?” Yudar demanded.
Keshan stepped forward. Baram and Yudar looked at him with sheer disgust. “We have never lied, Yudar. We have never spoken falsely of our friendship.”
Yudar shook with rage. “There is a difference, Adaru, with saying you are friends and saying you are fucking each other!”
Silence filled the tent. Jandu was shocked by the hatred in Yudar’s voice. He had never heard Yudar swear before.
“Do not pretend for one moment that you bear no stains on your conscience, Yudar,” Jandu said lowly. “You gambled your family into exile. You staked me like a whore in a game of dice.” Jandu felt a sudden, nauseous wave of hatred, and had to focus on Yudar’s face. “Your crimes have been against us. Keshan and I have never hurt anyone with our relationship.”
“Relationship? You are talking about an act that is so sinful, I cannot even speak of it.” Yudar curled his lip in disgust.
“You need us to win this war,” Jandu said. “If Darvad takes the throne the entire nation will suffer. And you well know that Suraya and Baram will both be killed, which means you must swallow your pride and allow us to fight for greater morals today.”
“Don’t you dare speak of morality.” Yudar’s voice was low and dark. “I have dedicated my life to morality. And the fates have seen to test my dedication and fortitude by taking the brother that I love and turning him into a faggot.”
In three strides Jandu reached his brother’s throne. He grabbed Yudar by the breastplate and slammed his fist into his brother’s face, all reason gone, all fear and shame superceded by rage. Yudar’s hands flew to Jandu’s throat and he dragged Jandu down onto the ground with him. The two scuffled and kicked at each other until Baram pulled them apart.
Yudar coughed and stood shakily. The left side of his face was red and blood trickled from his nose. He wiped his hands on h
is dejaru, as if they were stained.
“It chills my skin to touch you,” he hissed. “I swear, I will not have your depravity sully the reputation of our army.”
“Without me you have no army!” Jandu struggled against Baram’s grip. “Mazar’s shartas will destroy them in a day!”
Yudar glared at Jandu, no love left in his eyes. “I never want to see you again,” he said hoarsely. “You are banished from my sight.”
At Yudar’s declaration, Keshan let out a small gasp and stepped back to the edge of the tent.
Jandu stared at his brother in shock. He knew Yudar would be appalled and angry. But he never imagined his brother to be so stupid that he would throw away Jandu’s fighting skills to prove his point.
Suraya suddenly knelt at Yudar’s feet. “Please don’t do this to him!”
“Shut up, Suraya,” Yudar snapped. He rubbed at his eyes as if a great pain were lodged there.
Baram broke the silence by punching a clay statue of the prophet Tarhandi on Yudar’s side table, smashing it to pieces. “Jandu! I can’t believe you did this to us!”
Yudar turned away. “Get out of here. Both of you. Before I do something more drastic.”
“You cannot win this war without me!” Jandu shouted.
A tremor ran down Yudar’s throat. He turned and looked over to where Jandu stood, blocking Keshan from Yudar’s wrath.
Yudar spoke quietly. “I would rather lose this war, my pride, and my kingdom, than ever accept the disgusting deed you have committed behind my back. You have killed us all today, Jandu. And if we lose, it is on your head, not mine. Think about that while you rut like an animal.” Yudar turned and left the tent.
Chapter 50
JANDU STOOD STILL AS A STATUE, TOO SHOCKED TO MOVE. Suddenly, Suraya ran to him, gripping him fiercely, sobbing onto his breastplate.
“It’s all right,” Jandu said, rubbing her back, although he didn’t know why he said it, because it wasn’t true. “It’s over.”
Suraya’s reaction seemed almost strange to him. A deep, icy coldness welled up inside him. Yudar’s words were too cruel to ever be forgiven. If Jandu felt anything at all, it was almost relief, relief that Yudar could no longer break his heart, because he had no love left for his brother.
But he still loved Suraya, so he comforted her as if the insult was hers.
Baram’s eyes filled with tears, but he squeezed them constantly, as if letting tears fall would be an admission to something unacceptable. Baram said nothing to Jandu, but he spat on the ground by Keshan.
“You have taken my brother from me,” he growled. And then he left the tent.
Jandu wanted to go to Keshan. Keshan looked more fragile than he had ever seen him, standing by the tent flap, eyes dark with pain. Jandu disentangled Suraya’s arms from around him. He wiped her face and tried to give her a reassuring smile.
“At least he didn’t have us executed,” Jandu said. “Not that we would have stayed around for that.”
Suraya shook her head. “I can’t believe you told him! I just can’t believe it!” She wiped her eyes. “What will you do now?”
Jandu picked up his helmet, which had fallen off in his tussle with Yudar, and brushed off the sand. “We’ll go to the forest outside the camp. I’m not leaving the battlefield, regardless of what Yudar says. If there’s a way I can help from the sidelines, then I will do it.”
Suraya nodded, as if making a decision herself. “Give me a few minutes. I’ll pack you some provisions.”
Jandu kissed the top of her head. “What would I do without you, Suraya?”
“I will speak with Baram,” Suraya said. “Maybe he will see reason.” She left the tent.
Jandu wanted to pull Keshan to him, but something about Keshan’s expression stopped him.
“We should go quickly before word spreads,” Keshan said.
Jandu nodded. It would only be a matter of time before everyone in camp knew what happened. Yudar would be required to give some explanation as to why his brother, the general of his army and fourth in line for the throne, was suddenly banished. Jandu doubted that Yudar would tell the whole truth, but he also knew Yudar well enough to know he wouldn’t lie outright. So as Jandu numbly made his way towards his tent, he began to imagine what all these people would think when they saw him again. Right now, he was a respected leader of men, a hero about to begin a war for his family’s honor. By tomorrow, he would be, at best, an exile shunned by his family, and at worst, a sexual deviant.
Inside Jandu’s tent, he and Keshan worked quickly. They packed anything that could be eaten or that could kill. He stuffed his bedding and his clothes in a trunk. As he reached for his quiver, his hand hesitated, and he stared at the arrows inside with a sudden, absolute, sense of loss.
He wasn’t going to fight tomorrow.
He wasn’t going to kill Darvad, or get his revenge on Chandamar. He would have to watch his family fight Darvad, Mazar, and Tarek without him. All his expectations of sweet justice, revenge, victory, it had all, in one moment, been taken from him.
Jandu’s sank to his knees. Yudar had stolen Jandu’s freedom, gambled away Jandu’s body, and now had robbed Jandu of his right to justice. Jandu choked on this bitter, last betrayal of a man who he had once loved.
“Jandu?”
He quickly stood back up and took a breath. He had to remain calm, for Keshan’s sake.
Keshan hesitated at the flap of his tent. “Are you ready?”
Jandu nodded. The two of them silently pried loose the tent stakes and folded the large fabric, leaving the furniture inside exposed to the dust and wind. Jandu rolled up the carpets and stacked them on his trunk. The few men still awake gathered around, watching by torchlight and asking questions which neither of them answered.
It was an awkward trek, the two of them carrying their belongings through the warm, breezy darkness of the camp. Suraya met them at the western gate and lighted their way into the thick forest with a torch. Jandu picked a soft clearing in the woods near the stream for camp, and Suraya started a fire as Jandu and Keshan pitched the tent and laid down the carpets. Suraya helped them unpack bed rolls and left them a large basket of food, several lamps, and wine.
Suraya fretted over the campsite like a mother hen, smoothing down the fabric of the flap, double checking the thickness of the bed rolls, and adding more branches to the fire before finally allowing Jandu to steer her home.
“Baram will worry if you’re gone too long,” Jandu said, urging her through the woods back to the bright safety of the camp.
Suraya stepped carefully over the uneven surface of the dark forest. Jandu recalled the awful night she had tripped on just such a thick forest floor. The memory was like a physical pain.
At the gate, Suraya cried again. The guards watched the two of them as they embraced. Finally Jandu kissed Suraya’s cheek and told her to go. He watched her small frame until it disappeared behind the tents of the infantry.
In the darkness, Jandu made his way back to Keshan.
◆◆◆
By the time Jandu returned, Keshan had finished setting up camp. He had a pot of tea on the fire, and as soon as Jandu sat on one of the logs near the flames, Keshan handed him a cup. The tea was overly sweet, one of Keshan’s bad habits whenever he prepared something, but Jandu decided now was not the time to tease Keshan about his sweet tooth. Keshan sipped at his tea, and then placed the ceramic cup on the ground. He covered his face with his hands and hunched over.
“Oh, Jandu, how can you bear to be with me?”
The question was so unexpected Jandu choked on his response. He crossed his arms and stared at Keshan.
“What the hell are you talking about?”
Keshan’s voice was muffled by his hands. “I’ve ruined you! I’ve destroyed your life!”
“Listen to me.” Jandu crouched beside Keshan, and put his hand on Keshan’s knee. “I’m fine, I’m alive. Nothing has been destroyed, other than my tolerance for Yudar’s hy
pocrisy.”
Keshan shook his head. “I thought I was here to make a difference. To change our society. It turns out I am nothing, Jandu. I’m a fool with delusions of grandeur.” Keshan stood and stared at the distant lights of the Uru camp. “I had such unshakeable faith that my vision of the future would come true. And now, look at us! My brother is over there. And I cannot touch him. And here you are, living off leftovers with an untouchable lover, hiding from your own family.” Keshan’s expression broke, and the tears finally fell.
Keshan sat on the forest floor and sobbed into his hands. Jandu watched, unsure what comfort he could offer. There was nothing he could say that would alter the truth. They had sacrificed everything to be together.
Jandu sat beside him and let him cry. When Keshan’s breathing finally slowed and his tears stopped, Jandu placed his hand on Keshan’s lower back.
When Keshan didn’t respond, Jandu continued. “Nothing that has happened changes the truth of your words. You told me once that it would take the death of the entire Triya class to bring about this new era. We cannot change these people. We may not have imagined the cost we would pay to fulfill your vision. But we will make it happen, I swear to you.”
Keshan lifted his head from his hands, his eyes red-rimmed, his breathing ragged. “What if… What if I am wrong?”
“You’re not.”
“How can you know this?” Keshan cried. “How? When I don’t even know myself? I’ve ruined your life for nothing!”
Jandu moved his hand upwards to cup the back of Keshan’s neck. He forced Keshan to face him. “You’re not wrong.”
“Why not?” Keshan cried.
“Because… you’re Keshan.”
A flicker of annoyance flashed across Keshan’s eyes, and Jandu felt relief. Annoyance was a great improvement over fear. It was much more like the Keshan he knew.
“I believe in you,” Jandu said emphatically. “I believe you. That’s all that matters.”
Keshan pulled his knees up to his chest and wrapped his arms around them. Jandu left his hand on the back of Keshan’s neck, massaging the tense muscles there.
