Night fell on the camp and Kilig felt exhausted, emotionally and physically. The next morning they'd head back home, but now all he wanted was to curl up with Hakeem and cuddle.
Except Hakeem hadn't said a word since the battle and Kilig was too tired to read his face. He was sick of the lack of communication, though, so after dinner, he grabbed Hakeem's wrist and dragged him outside the crowded tent where they were staying with the rest of the Guild.
Without speaking, he pushed Hakeem against a crumbled wall and sought his lips. Hakeem stiffened, but didn't slap him. Words didn't come to Kilig as he roamed Hakeem's body with his hands and lips. He'd missed his lover so much, he realized only when it was too late that Hakeem was barely responding.
His pleasure was ruined by the knowledge that Hakeem had let him do what he wanted, but that didn't mean he'd been willing. He squeezed Hakeem, now naked on the sandy ground, nuzzling his neck and ear.
"Hakeem," he pleaded in a whisper.
"So it's true you have sex after every job." Hakeem's voice was sharp, not dreamy.
"You should have stopped me if you didn't want it," he replied, pulling away. A pale moon showered them and he couldn't see Hakeem's face in the darkness of the night.
"You know where to put your hands and lips, Kilig," Hakeem replied sourly. "And I needed some comfort tonight."
"So? Did you have what you wanted?"
"Yes." Quick. Blunt. No more "I love you." No more "I'm yours, Acharya Kilig." Just a "Do what you want with me, I don't care" attitude.
Kilig felt his heart break again. He'd ruined everything. He'd lost Hakeem forever. He pulled up and gathered their scattered clothes.
"I still have no idea of what I've done to make you so mad at me, but I hope one day you will forgive me," he told Hakeem, handing him his clothes. "I'm sorry I was so rough tonight, we should have talked first. But I don't seem to be able to get through to you anymore, and I don't know what to do. Give me a hint, or a flat out order, and I will obey."
Hakeem sat and his face fell into the cone of light of a nearby fire. He was very serious.
"I'm conflicted, Kilig. I don't know you. And I don't even know myself anymore. I'm sorry."
Kilig sighed and nodded.
"Sweet dreams, Hakeem. When you make up your mind, you know where to find me."
***
The journey back went as smoothly as coming south. The march to the coast, the ship, the barge – with a few more people onboard, including Sabre who'd said he was curious to visit "the Genn capital city" before joining another guild. Hakeem had glared at him when he'd heard that, but neither Sanjana nor Kilig had objected, so he'd kept his mouth shut. He spent the trip by Sanjana's side, but they didn't talk much. Hakeem hoped his presence would be enough to comfort his childhood friend.
In Godwalkar the other Guilds' members headed home. Then Nightsun delivered Nimdja's body to the main temple and said good-bye to his daughter.
Hakeem stood next to Sanjana as they watched Nimdja's body burn, remembering how he'd stood with Kilig in front of his father's funeral pyre. Seemed like a lifetime ago when the dark-haired stranger had walked into his life and hadn't swept him off his feet yet.
The problem was that in spite of the sex and the months gone by, Kilig was still that gorgeous stranger who had stood next to him by Saif's pyre. Hakeem still wanted him, but couldn't trust him anymore.
Hakeem looked at Sanjana's pale face. He squeezed her hand, but she wasn't crying.
"He's with my mother now," she whispered as the mortal remains of Nimdja the Dagger were devoured by the flames.
Hakeem nodded, but didn't feel relieved. He wondered about his own father, who had never loved his mother. And then he glanced at Kilig, who was on the other side of the pyre with Guisarme, Katar and the other senior members, and felt a lump in his throat.
The assassin's life wasn't as expected. He suspected his father had started the training more because he feared the war would reach their village than because he wanted to go back south. And then Saif had idealized Kilig through the years, and Hakeem had known him through his father's eyes first.
Now that he'd met Kilig, he'd found out he wasn't as perfect as his father depicted him. Or maybe it had been silly on his part to think Kilig wouldn't have any friends. And he couldn't imagine anyone's reaction to killing someone – until he had killed himself. But he'd understood Kilig's need after the battle and that was why he hadn't stopped him.
Except Kilig looked like a gorgeous stranger again – in spite of the carnal knowledge. He stood next to his friends, honoring Nimdja in his quiet way... How many had he watched burn to ashes?
Hakeem concentrated on the pyre again, struggling with tears and his own insecurity.
The fire subsided and was extinguished. Sanjana gathered her father's ashes and put them in the crypt with her mother's and Saif's. They all slowly went back to the Guild's building, mostly in silence.
The Guild's door closed behind their backs and they gathered in the canteen, since it was the biggest room. Katar spoke, briefly showing Nimdja's signet ring to the assembly.
"We must elect a new Head of the Guild. All the founding members are dead or retired. I suggest Guisarme, since she's the eldest."
"Thank you, Katar, but you were Nimdja's apprentice and then right arm," Guisarme replied. "I'm naming you. Or Kilig, since he rid us of Abhaya and Khopesh."
"You gave me a hand with Khopesh," Kilig objected. "I couldn't have done it on my own."
"Kukri gave you a hand in both cases," Guisarme replied with a grin. "I still think you should be Head of the Guild."
"So do I," Sabre said. Hakeem clenched his teeth, glaring at the southern guest.
"You can't vote yet," Katar informed Sabre politely. "The new Head will decide if you can join our guild or not."
Sabre smiled and shrugged. "I won't apply if I don't like the new Head."
Guisarme scoffed and shook her head. Hakeem wished he could beat the shit out of the intruder, but then, if Kilig wasn't elected, Sabre would probably leave.
"So, Katar, Kilig or myself," Guisarme said. "Raise your hands. For Katar." She rose her hand and so did Kilig.
Hakeem hesitated. He didn't know Katar well, but if Kilig voted for him, he must be worthy, and he liked him more than Guisarme. So he reluctantly raised his hand as Guisarme counted.
"For Kilig," she said, raising her hand again. It was obviously allowed to vote twice, but not for oneself. Hakeem kept his hand down. Only Katar and a couple more raised theirs.
"For Guisarme," Katar said, raising his hand again, promptly copied by Kilig, Sanjana and others.
Guisarme won by a couple of votes, and Sabre scoffed.
"So, do you wish to join our guild or not?" Guisarme asked him, putting her hands on her hips.
"I never saw a woman Head of any Guild," Sabre answered.
"So?" Guisarme repeated, raising her eyebrows.
"So I'm curious," Sabre replied. "Yes, I would like to join Godwalkar's Guild."
"Then someone will tell you the rules, and then we'll test you," Guisarme said, putting Nimdja's ring on a silver chain and hanging it around her neck, since it was too big for her slender fingers.
Sabre nodded. "Will you test me personally?" he asked with a mischievous smile.
"I think men should be trained and tested by men, women by women," Guisarme replied, a little sarcastic. "That's how it works over here. Katar will tell you the rules and Kilig will test you."
No! Hakeem wanted to scream. She'd done exactly what Sabre wanted! Couldn't she see that Sabre was after Kilig? What if he killed Kilig to avenge his father and wicked Abhaya?
The meeting was over, but Hakeem couldn't move. Again he didn't know what to do as Sabre left with Katar and Kilig walked to him.
"Thank you for not voting for me," Kilig said. "I don't want to be Head of the Guild. I'm tired of this life."
"So what will you do?" Hakeem asked, worried. "We already lost Nimdja and other
senior members..."
"I'm sure Sabre will qualify," Kilig replied sourly. "And then there's you and Anelace... I'm sick of killing, Hakeem. I guess it's time I retire."
Averting his eyes, Kilig left before startled Hakeem could answer. Kilig... was quitting? But why?
***
"I hope you're joking," Guisarme said, serious, staring intently at Kilig who sat in front of her.
"No." He sighed. He had knocked on the Head of the Guild's door to congratulate her, but also to tell her he was leaving as soon as he tested Sabre's skills. "I love you people, you're my family, but..."
"Still on the rocks with Hakeem?" she asked bluntly.
"Yes." He stared at the tiled floor. "I can't stay if he keeps giving me the cold shoulder. It hurts too much."
"Have you talked to him?" she insisted, frowning.
"Guisarme, until he makes up his mind, I'm at his mercy," he replied. "Maybe if I leave, he'll figure out his feelings."
"And where will you go? Where can he find you?"
"My sister Gauri is a widow now. I'm sure she'll welcome the help. Her children have grown up, and she's older than me..."
"Fine." Guisarme sighed. "You'll wear protections when you test Sabre, though. I don't want you to get killed."
"Yes, ma'am." Kilig smiled briefly. "A woman will bring the Assassins' Guild into the future... Talwar and Francisca must be proud of you!"
"Don't let me down, Kilig," she said. "I'll pray that Saif puts some sense in his son's head from the underworld."
"Thanks."
He rose and left her office, heading for the canteen. Katar and Sabre sat together in a corner with a couple of parchments. Kilig joined them.
"When will he be ready?" he asked Katar.
"Are you in a hurry?" Katar replied.
Kilig shrugged. "We don't have that many rules and you can spare him the history... Will tomorrow morning do?"
Puzzled, Katar exchanged a glance with Sabre who nodded.
"Yes, Kilig, tomorrow morning you can test me."
***
Hakeem hated waking up alone. He missed Kilig – his warmth, his caresses, his kisses. He grumpily got out of bed, shaved and went downstairs to grab a pastry, but stopped in the courtyard since everybody was assembling there.
Sabre was reciting the rules to Guisarme, showing he'd memorized them in a night. Hakeem squeezed himself next to Sanjana so he could watch the test.
"Very good," Guisarme said, stepping back. "Now Kilig will try your skills."
Hakeem held his breath as Kilig came forward. He'd been through the same, coming from an acharya who couldn't finish the training. Sabre would have to show his prowess with arrows, brass wheels and other throwing weapons – and then the noose.
Hakeem wondered if they taught the noose in Agharek. His father couldn't teach him without the training collar, so he had learned that skill from Kilig. But Abhaya had never learned, so maybe the best noose-operators were in Godwalkar.
Sabre proved proficient in all disciplines. He was a quick archer, a good swordsman and an excellent thrower. Kilig put on the high leather collar to test his noose skills.
Hakeem winced at the memory of his first, failed attempts. He hoped Sabre would fail at least that one, otherwise he was too good. And nothing good could come out of cowardly Abhaya's school, right?
Wrong. If it weren't for the collar, Kilig would have been killed in front of his eyes. The audience gasped and Kilig collapsed, panting.
"Definitely time to retire," he muttered. "Leaving room for younger people."
Hakeem gulped. Kilig could be killed at any time. If Sabre decided to avenge his father, Kilig was as good as dead.
"That Sabre is a killing machine!" Sanjana whispered, impressed, confirming his fears.
Guisarme remained serious.
"Very well, then. Sabre has earned membership of the Assassins' Guild of Godwalkar. Thank you, Kilig."
Sabre smiled triumphantly and shook Kilig's hand. Kilig took off the collar and stayed down, snorting to catch his breath, as the audience disbanded with whispered comments. Hakeem couldn't keep his eyes off of Kilig's defeated pose. Oblivious of the people moving around him, he rushed to Kilig's side and hugged him, bursting into sobs.
"Oh, Kilig, thank the gods you're still alive! I don't want to lose you!"
Kilig's arms closed around him, squeezing him.
"Calm down, Hakeem," Kilig whispered. "We're in the middle of the courtyard."
Hakeem gasped for breath and managed to regain control. He glanced around, but most were gone. Sanjana smiled at them, and Sabre looked puzzled.
"Anelace, Sabre!" Guisarme called.
And then the courtyard was empty and tears stopped flowing from Hakeem's eyes.
"Sorry," he grumbled, then sniffled.
Kilig's thumbs dried his cheeks, then Kilig's hands cupped his face. He didn't dare looking at Kilig's face, though. He'd made such a fool of himself.
"Hakeem, look at me," Kilig said gently.
He obeyed, feeling his heart in his throat. He lost himself in Kilig's brown eyes and words refused to come out, a jumbled mess in his head.
"Hakeem, have you made up your mind?" Kilig asked, serious.
Hakeem nodded, displacing Kilig's hands, but his voice still refused to come out. He gulped down the lump – to no avail.
Kilig put his hands in his lap and took a deep breath.
"Tell me, then. What is it going to be?"
"I want to spend my life with you!" Hakeem blurted out. "I'm not as good an assassin as Sabre, but..."
Kilig put a finger on his mouth to silence him and chuckled.
"What has Sabre to do in this?" he asked. "I think it's between me and you."
"But he wants you!" Hakeem protested in a low voice. "I'm not blind, Kilig!"
"But do you think I want him?"
"I... I don't know." Hakeem hung his head, frustrated again. Why was it so complicated?
"Hakeem." Kilig sighed. "My heart belongs to you. From the moment I laid my eyes on you, even if I fought the feeling as much as I could. So it's really up to you now. Do you want this relationship or not?"
Incredulous, Hakeem looked Kilig in the eyes. His lips slowly trembled into a smile as tears came back.
"Yes," he said, both laughing and crying. "Yes, Kilig, I want to be with you with the rest of my life!"
He threw his arms around Kilig's neck and kissed him hungrily. Gods, he had missed him!
***
Kilig forced himself to pull away from Hakeem's ravenous mouth.
"Not here," he whispered, seeing Hakeem's worried face.
Hakeem brightened, and they both jumped to their feet, sprinting up the stairs and to their room, where they fell into each other's arms again. Kilig was already half-naked from the exertion of the test and he almost ripped off Hakeem's clothes.
No more words were needed as their passion exploded, mightier than ever before. Too many days apart, but now they found each other again. Hakeem's green eyes were adoringly staring back at him again, and Hakeem's moans of pleasure were music to his ears.
They came together and then lay still against each other, Hakeem's hand lightly caressing Kilig's torso while Kilig's fingers stroked Hakeem's hair.
"You're not quitting, are you?" Hakeem asked, a little drowsy. "If you do, I come with you."
"Do you want to be an assassin or not?" Kilig replied.
"I like this extended family... and yes, this life, even if it's scary dangerous. So how about following my original plan?"
"Move to that room and be assassins on the side?" Kilig asked.
Hakeem nodded and looked him in the eyes. "What do you say, dilbar?"
Kilig's heart started singing. Hakeem had forgiven him. They'd be together forever.
He squeezed Hakeem and grinned.
"I say I love you, Hakeem. With all my heart. And whatever you want to do, I'll be with you every step of the way."
3. Hakeem's Rival
Hakeem entered the Guild's canteen holding Kilig's hand, still dreamy about what they'd discussed among the sheets after Kilig had tested Sabre's skills.
Seeing the southern assassin seated with Katar made Hakeem's smile vanish, and when Guisarme waved at them from a nearby table where she sat with Anelace, he frowned and glanced at Kilig.
"Can we sit on our own?" he whispered.
"It's impolite to decline an invitation from two women," Kilig replied in a low voice, amused. "Don't tell me you're still jealous of Guisarme. She is our new Head after all."
Hakeem sighed. At least Sanjana was with her, as usual. Well, Anelace. He should learn to use the assassins' names, but then, he didn't think of himself as "Kukri" yet. And he should, if he wanted to be better than "Sabre". He quickly wondered what the newcomer's birth name was.
He sat in front of Sanjana who grinned at him while Kilig sat next to him and in front of Guisarme. They'd grabbed their bowl of stew and flat-breads before joining the women who poured them some wine.
"So, Kilig, are you staying or are you leaving?" Guisarme asked.
"Both," Kilig answered. "Like we told Nimdja, we're moving into our own room over Ramya's shop, where you met us a month ago. But we'll report here every day in case there's something for us." He squeezed Hakeem's hand, but Hakeem lowered his eyes.
"Good, I'm glad I can still count on you," Guisarme said, satisfied. "Can I consider you my right arm?"
Kilig dropped his cutlery to stare at her, surprised.
"I thought you had Katar," he said.
"No, I'd rather have you." Guisarme winked. "We have a history, after all."
"Guisarme..." Kilig chided while Hakeem glared at her.
Don't you dare, bitch! He's mine!
Guisarme blew him a kiss.
"Don't worry, honey, I won't steal your boyfriend," she told him with an impish smile. "It's just business. He's the best, and I'd rather have him by my side."
"I'm not Abhaya, am I?" Kilig grumbled.
"No, you're not," Guisarme assured him, patting his hand and staring fondly at him.
"He's everything Shamsher never was," Sabre said loud enough for everyone to hear, but not looking at anyone in particular.
Kilig & Hakeem Page 8