by Astrid Amara
Jandu jerked Yudar’s neck sideways and back, and felt it snap. Yudar’s head lolled forward as he slumped to the ground, his body dropping like a sack of millet.
Keshan seized Jandu by the shoulders and yanked him down onto the ground. The frenzied air swept down upon Yudar’s body. Jandu sank his fingers into the soil and gripped the mud. Wind screamed and flames seared down into Yudar’s body, as the sharta retracted back to its source, burning it to ash. And then the sharta stamped itself out.
All that remained was the silence of death.
Jandu rose to his knees, surveying the field. Everything within a half mile radius had been scorched to charcoal. Jandu knelt by the smoking remains of his eldest brother, gripping his stomach. He didn’t cry. He wasn’t even sure if he was sad. All he felt an icy emptiness, leaving him cold and vacant.
Survivors stumbled at the edge the blackened battlefield. Jandu watched them distantly.
“Jandu stay down!” Keshan shoved him forward and then collapsed to the ground.
Jandu heard a low-pitched whistle and felt the thump of the arrow scratch across the back of his armor. He spun around, placing himself between his attacker and Keshan.
Darvad glared at him, his face wild, his eyes bloodshot. Blood ran down both arms. He looked as ferocious and demented as a demon of revenge.
“Jandu Paran!” Darvad screamed. His voice sent a shiver through Jandu’s soul. It was inhuman. Darvad lifted his bow, aimed his arrow at Jandu’s face.
Then Darvad grunted, his bow suddenly slack in his hand, the arrow dropping into the ground. Darvad crumpled to the earth. His face smacked into to the mud, an arrow buried deep into the back of his neck.
Behind Darvad, Abiyar stood, breathing heavily, holding his bow, face streaked with ash and tears.
“Good boy,” Jandu said hoarsely.
Despite his tears, Abiyar smiled at him. “Thank you, King Jandu.”
Jandu covered his face with his hands and wept.
Chapter 60
FEW BODIES REMAINED TO BE CREMATED AFTER THE PEZARISHARTA.
Onshu and the other priests who oversaw the battle held a coronation ceremony at the edge of the field. Darvad was dead, killed by a Paran, therefore the Parans had won. And since Yudar and Baram died in battle, Jandu inherited the throne. Marhavad was his.
The priests poured holy water onto Jandu’s hair, and they wrapped his neck in a garland representing all the lands of Prasta. Jandu endured the ceremonies silently. His body hurt in so many places, it all came together as one deep pain. Keshan stood by him, looking half-dead with exhaustion himself.
Of the eleven lords who had brought armies to Terashu Field, only three survived. Jandu’s brother-in-law Rishak, Keshan’s brother Iyestar, and Olan, the lord of Bandari, joined other hastily-appointed representatives from the other states to pay homage to their new king. They swore fealty and offered tokens—diamonds, rubies, gold armor, and horses—to show their allegiance. They did so somberly, most still stunned by the horrific end.
Soldiers, attendants and servants cheered loudly, exulting in both their own survival and Jandu’s ascension to the throne.
After the ceremony, Iyestar hesitated before Keshan.
Jandu closed his eyes. “Keshan is no longer Jegora.” He turned with a sigh to Onshu and nodded. “Preform the ceremony now.”
Onshu stepped forward and chanted prayers over Keshan. It seemed interminable. Once Onshu declared Keshan’s Triya status restored, Iyestar rushed forward and embraced Keshan, weeping loudly. All around them nobles, servants and soldiers renewed their cheer.
Jandu called his men to him. Anant, Lazro and Warash led them. They were ragged, most beaten and filthy, but they marched with pride. Jandu appointed them as his personal guard and distributed gold tokens and new weapons to them. They bowed before him, joy and relief illuminating their dirty faces.
Onshu chanted a prayer of peace and blessing for the new king. And the gathered throngs of Paran and Uru survivors joined him.
At the close of the ceremony, Jandu limped off with Keshan to the Paran camp. At once he was thronged by physicians. He let them rub salves into his wounds. He took a bath and threw up blood. He noted absentmindedly that the entire left side of his stomach was purple and bruised, injured internally from uttering so many shartas. He left Keshan in the physician’s care.
When he found Baram’s tent, white mourning flags hung from it. Inside, Suraya knelt in prayer. The moment she saw Jandu, she rushed to him. The two of them collapsed together on the rugs. With Suraya’s tears egging him on, Jandu wept for Baram. He even wept for Yudar. He wept for everything the two of them lost, for all the sacrifices that had been made, to make a man who did not want the kingdom king.
“I miss Baram,” Suraya cried. Jandu pulled her to him so tightly, he suddenly worried that he was hurting her. But Suraya clung with equal strength.
“Me too,” Jandu said. He wiped his eyes. “But we have survived—you, me, Keshan…” Jandu touched her belly affectionately. “And Baram’s son will be king one day.”
Suraya smiled. “Or queen.”
Jandu nodded. “It doesn’t matter. Boy or girl, I’ll love them.”
He helped Suraya pack her belongings for the journey back to Prasta. He didn’t know what else to do, or say. She had lost two husbands and her father in this war. He was relieved when her brother Rishak arrived, dressed in white mourning clothes, and took Suraya in his arms. For all that she had lost, Jandu was grateful that she still had family.
Outside, Jandu found Keshan, tending to the two stolen horses that had served them through the previous night. Keshan spoke to them tenderly as he washed their legs with a sponge. Keshan looked clean and refreshed, and wore Triya clothes once more. He smiled as Jandu approached.
Jandu did not smile back, but he brought his hands together in the sign of peace.
“Has anyone given you trouble?” Jandu asked. His own voice sounded distant, even to himself.
Keshan shook his head. Jandu reached out and placed his hand on the top of Keshan’s head. Keshan’s hair smelled like coconut; it was warm and clean.
Keshan closed his eyes and leaned towards Jandu. He swayed slightly on his feet, showing his exhaustion.
“Lie down with me,” Jandu said softly.
“Of course.”
Jandu led Keshan into Yudar’s tent, back into the inner chamber. He fell asleep immediately, Keshan curled hotly in his arms.
In the morning, Jandu was awakened by Anant, who informed him that the armies were preparing to depart, but needed his orders. Jandu dressed and let Keshan sleep a little longer. He met briefly with the ministers and lords, officially releasing them from their duty to the battlefield. Jandu told them to return to their families, and then congregate in Prasta. They had a lot of work ahead of them, rebuilding the nation after so much strife.
By noon, the roads away from Terashu were crowded with caravans of carts, chariots, riders and people on foot. Jandu took one look at the lines of soldiers, merchants, craftsmen, servants, and priests heading back to Prasta, and made a decision.
“I do not want to return home in this procession.”
The priests and surviving lords were surprised, but did not object.
“I will meet you all in Prasta,” Jandu informed his lords and generals.
This was beyond all conventions, but Jandu had no doubt that by now they all knew he was unconventional. Already there were men who called him a prophet and to Jandu’s surprise, several Draya priests were among them. Jandu left with Keshan and a small party of his bodyguards. For the most part, the guards gave them space, scouting ahead through the meadow and fields or riding far behind, keeping their distance. They seemed to understand that Jandu wanted time alone with Keshan.
They passed through fields overgrown with flowers and followed small roads that wove along the streams that fed the river. The farther they rode from Terashu field, the more lush, more fragrant the land grew. Vibrant green past
ures and explosions of colorful wild flowers spilled out between groves of fruiting trees.
Jandu did not speak as they rode. He still felt a crippling numbness. He had wondered how a person stayed whole after a night like the close of battle. And now he feared that one did not remain whole. One was forever tainted. Even the beauty of the surrounding landscape did not soothe him.
As the sun hung heavy and hot above the horizon, they stopped to rest beside a tranquil, isolated lake. White cranes and small swallows watched them water their horses, and secure them under the shade of a nearby willow tree.
Keshan jauntily walked to the water’s edge and unbuckled his sandals with the enthusiasm of a teenaged boy. “Come on, let’s bathe.”
Jandu felt ancient. His feet dragged, his heart ached.
Keshan’s warm, dry hand encircled his wrist. Keshan’s eyes shone as he led Jandu to the water.
“You’ll feel better when you’re clean,” Keshan said assuredly.
Jandu swallowed. “I feel like I’ll kill anything I touch. The fish are doomed.”
Keshan’s mouth quirked into a smile, but his eyes stared at him, large and serious. “You have touched me more than anyone, Jandu. Am I dead?”
“No.”
“Then trust me and get into the water.” Keshan began to strip.
Jandu reluctantly removed his sandals and helmet. His arms felt leaden, his fingers clumsily untied the leather strings of his armor. As soon as his breastplate was off, every part of him felt lighter. He took off his shirt and unwound his dejaru. Its blood red color chilled him.
Keshan waited for him in the water. He stood, up to his waist in the lake, his dark skin glittering with droplets. He held out his hand, and Jandu walked towards him. He stepped slowly, sucking in his breath at the frigid crispness of the water. After the initial shock of cold, the water felt marvelous, refreshing in the late afternoon breezes that were still warm and hot on his dry skin.
Jandu’s nerves revitalized in the deliciously cool water. Standing beside Keshan, he let the aches and knots of his muscles unwind.
Keshan plunged down under the water. A few seconds later he dramatically reemerged, sputtering and splashing and hooting, pushing his wet hair back from his forehead, grinning from ear to ear.
Keshan reached under the water and jerked Jandu’s ankle. Jandu fell backwards into the water. He was engulfed in crisp renewal. He stayed submerged, blowing out air to sink further, letting the cool purity of the lake cover his battle-worn body.
He felt alive.
And that was all that mattered now. Life, in its chilling, surprising, glorious fullness. Jandu had survived. His body screamed it out with each second he held his breath. He was alive, and out of danger. He was free.
Finally, out of breath, Jandu shot out of the water and gasped for air. He had gotten turned around, and couldn’t see Keshan.
Keshan snaked his long arms around Jandu’s waist from behind. His hands rested protectively on Jandu’s chest.
Jandu leaned back into the burning warmth of Keshan’s body. Keshan rested his chin on Jandu’s shoulder. They stood together, watching long reeds blowing in the hot wind.
“Feel better?” Keshan whispered.
Jandu’s back vibrated with Keshan’s words. Jandu turned slowly and wrapped his arms around Keshan as well. They held each other, their bodies pressed tightly together, cool water lapping at their waists.
“Yes.” Jandu reached out and wiped a rivulet of water from Keshan’s cheek.
Keshan smiled and squeezed Jandu tighter. Keshan leaned in and kissed Jandu with exquisite sweetness. When he pulled away, Jandu’s body pressed forward, drawn for more.
“I am here, more alive and more whole than I have ever been, and all because of you, Jandu,” Keshan whispered.
Jandu’s mouth sought Keshan’s once more, thrusting into the sweet, drunk warmth of Keshan’s heat. Jandu’s body thrummed as he felt Keshan’s immediate arousal. It was so easy to see the signs of Keshan’s love. Keshan’s body loosened like warm butter, melting into Jandu’s arms, gripping Jandu to him with a desperate desire.
“Never leave me,” Keshan said huskily. His lips caressed Jandu’s lips, his hips grinding Jandu’s with mounting urgency.
“I won’t.” Jandu’s voice was choked with emotion. He needed Keshan’s heat enveloping him now, completely. “I love you. I will be with you forever.”
“Forever,” Keshan repeated solemnly. He pulled Jandu downwards, and then they were spiraling in the water, swimming, clinging to each other and laughing, sheer joy radiating from them. As they swam towards shore, Keshan’s hands wandered over Jandu’s naked body, stroking him and feeling inside of him, and every nerve tingled and screamed out for Jandu to let Keshan consume him now, whole, take him once and claim him forever.
Jandu pulled Keshan onto the soft, wet grasses of the bank and pulled Keshan on top of him. He cradled Keshan’s head in his hands and kissed him, mouth open, spreading his legs wider in invitation. Keshan settled his weight between them, their cocks rubbing together, hot, delirious pulses of desire radiating upwards through Jandu’s chest and arms.
Keshan ran his hand on Jandu’s backside, cupping his bottom, and then fingered him, Jandu’s skin slick and wet with the lake’s water, easing Jandu’s passage. Jandu arched upwards.
Keshan leaned down and slowly kissed Jandu’s chest as he fingered him, his lips teasing Jandu’s nipples, his stomach. He kissed Jandu’s bruised side tenderly. Jandu lifted his legs higher. Keshan’s fingers scissored inside of Jandu, and Jandu shivered. Keshan slowly pushed his engorged cock into him, kissing Jandu’s sensitive neck at the same moment.
Jandu’s skin stretched, the delicious sting of being filled so completely causing him to gasp. He was immobilized by the high heat of Keshan’s cock. Jandu’s senses swallowed in the smell and feel of him, the glorious intimacy of their connection. His scrotum and cock pressed against Keshan’s hard stomach.
As Keshan slowly moved within him, Jandu rocked his hips, pulling Keshan deeper. Jandu lost his sense of time and place, drowned with the electric current of this warmth and affection, his body responding to Keshan’s mounting thrusts.
Keshan pulled Jandu’s legs onto his shoulders and pushed deeper. He reached forward with his hand and pumped Jandu’s cock in time with his thrusts. A mounting explosion of ecstasy shattered through Jandu, it coursed out of his body in great, shuddering pulses.
Keshan didn’t bother to be quiet. He moaned as he came, his climax throbbing inside of Jandu hotly. Keshan shook, his skin flush and hot to the touch. The water from their swim seemed to have evaporated in their heated lovemaking.
Keshan rested his head on Jandu’s shoulder. Jandu liked the feeling of Keshan’s cock retreating from within him. It was slow, soothing, and quiet.
“I love you,” Keshan whispered.
“Good,” Jandu said. “Because I think I’m going to be sore tomorrow, and it better have been worth it.”
Keshan smiled lazily, his eyes closed. “We’ll just have to do that more often. Then you won’t be sore.”
Jandu looked up at the sky. It was perfect, blue, not a cloud in sight. The silence, the sweet smell of berries and sex and Keshan filled his senses. “Where shall we do this more often? Prasta, or Tiwari?”
Keshan laughed. “So many choices. So many places to do it.”
“Do you have a preference?” Jandu asked.
“No, Prasta is fine. I just want to be where you are.” Keshan finally slipped from Jandu completely, and he rolled over, lying alongside him.
“Good,” Jandu said. “Because I want you to be my Royal Judge.”
“I know.”
“You do, do you?” Jandu felt relieved to see such a smug expression on Keshan’s face.
“Yes, last night I saw our futures, the elevation of Jegora, the public hospitals and schools, our many impressive nights of passion…” Keshan grinned. “You’ll bring it all about.”
Jandu str
etched against the soft grasses. “Not just me. I’m going to rely on you. I want your vision of a new Marhavad, but you’re going to have to help me. I can’t do this alone.”
“You won’t be alone.”
A warm wind blew over them, rustling the reeds.
“Am I still attractive in this future vision of me?” Jandu asked with a grin.
Keshan’s eyes remained closed, but his mouth curved into a lazy smile. “Very. Although you are going to go gray prematurely.”
Jandu sighed. “Well, at least I’ll still have hair. What about you?”
Keshan laughed. “I still look magnificent.”
“It wouldn’t matter you know. I’d still love you even if you were bald and fat and wrinkled.”
“I’ll hold you to that.”
The two of them lay on the bank of the lake and stared upwards. A smile played across Keshan’s mouth, and he lazily closed his eyes and nuzzled his face into Jandu’s neck.
Just then, a large sarus crane flew overhead. He blocked out the sun with his massive white wings, his red and black head looking down at Jandu and Keshan with vague interest. And with sudden, resounding volume, the crane sang out. From a distance, other cranes called back and the air was filled with music.
Jandu stroked Keshan’s face, and the beauty of this moment, it became eternal. Death and life, the dejection of the spirit and the courage to triumph—all these timeless experiences and emotions, like pigment in oil, were encapsulated, preserved forever, in this one second of a life.
He was alive. Keshan was alive. And now they could begin.
CHARACTERS
Abiyar Lokesh: Third and youngest son of Indarel Lokesh, Lord of Afadi.
Ajani Alamar: Wife of Keshan Adaru
Anant Sarkumar: Commander in the Dragewan army
Azari: Pseudonym of Suraya Paria while hiding in Afadi
Baldur Tanaraf: Lord of the State of Penemar
Bandruban: Prophet of the Shentari faith
Baram Param: Second son of King Shandarvan by his first wife Kari;brother of Yudar and Jandu; husband of Suraya Paria
Bir Soridashen: Lord of the State of Jagu Mali
