The man swirled around, lance ready to hit. He had fine hearing, apparently. Kumar plunged forward to grab the knife and found the bamboo lance at his throat.
"Hold on, boy!"
Kumar lost his balance and fell backwards, furious with himself. This wouldn't have happened in a town. He didn't have trouble in stealing weapons before leaving Leland with his friends.
"What are you trying to do?" the man asked.
"I need a weapon," he answered with a frown.
The man scoffed and took back his knife. He was tall, but not as threatening as the High Priest.
"I'm sorry, I need it," he said. He swung it threateningly, but Kumar didn't flinch. That man didn't look evil like the High Priest. That man probably wouldn't kill him, and certainly not in cold blood.
Maya was coming to his rescue, though, and she trumpeted a challenge to the man.
"No, Maya, I'm fine!" he shouted, stopping her before she trampled the bamboo fence and attacked the man, hurting herself. Maya gurgled and stopped outside the fence. Good girl.
The man, who had been ready to use his long knife and bamboo lance to defend himself from Maya, turned back to look at him, surprised.
"You own an elephant?" he asked with a dreaded Arquon accent. Kumar had to remind himself that the other was a common man, not a member of the Sect.
"I don't own her, she's my friend," he answered proudly, getting back on his feet.
"Ah." The man smiled and his teeth shone whiter than usual next to his black beard. "I wouldn't mind an apprentice, if you care to stay."
"What do you do?" Kumar asked, wary.
"I'm a tiger hunger."
Now, that was interesting. He could learn a new, useful skill.
"If you care to share my palace," the man added, pointing at the small one-room hut and the clearing with the bamboo fence.
"Your palace looks much better than any brick and mortar building I've seen so far," he replied. Or any cave or underground city for that matter. "I'd be honored to be your apprentice."
***
The hands of the High Priest on his body awakened the power again. The mouth of the High Priest gagged him, the tongue and hands made a shiver run down his spine and he felt so weak, as if life itself was being sucked out of him.
Snakes of darkness grabbed his wrists and ankles, spreading him out on the bed. Cold and heat ran through his body, making him quiver under the tongue and lips of the High Priest. He was burning with fever, but was not sick, not a normal illness anyway.
Kumar gasped for breath as he sank in the nightmare of clashing energies. His body responded against his will, and he tried to retreat in a place where he wouldn't feel, neither pain nor pleasure.
He found himself in the common room, with Hayato gently soothing him. There was no way he could go on for much longer in this awful place. As he came in his friend's arms, he whispered, "We must run away."
He woke up, his head still throbbing, his heart still pounding against his chest. He was free. Still, his hand ran to his groin to relieve himself. It was still dark and the inner pulse was choking him.
Then the tiger hunter came into his vision, with his long black hair and beard so different from the shaven head of the High Priest. A fresh hand on his burning forehead, blurred words, a warm tisane down his throat. Slowly his heart stopped pounding and all his muscles relaxed.
He drifted back to sleep.
In the daylight he almost forgot his nightmare. But the tiger hunter kept staring at him.
"You're a runaway of the Sect," the man said at lunch time while cooking two fishes he had caught in the morning. Kumar managed to nod, feeling a lump in his throat as the nightmare and memory came back to haunt him. He didn't want to think about it, but he was aware of the fact that he was unable to control his awakened sexuality.
"You're not from Arquon, though."
"Akkora," he managed to say.
The man nodded, thoughtful. "So you weren't born in the underground city."
He shook his head, wondering what else the man knew about the Sect.
"I can relate," the man said, lowering his eyes. He looked sad.
Kumar gulped down his anguish. "You met them?" he asked.
"Ten years ago," The man nodded, serious. "They were different then. They wore white and hid somewhere because our king didn't like their cult. Our king was considered a semi-god, you see. So he chased them from Zarquon over fifty yeas ago and they hid somewhere. I've heard this story form the elders when one of their youths discovered our village and the outside world."
The tiger hunter smiled ruefully.
"Manjeet was very sweet," he said. "He was genuinely interested in what happened outside of his very closed community. And he met Ashlee who was in turn very curious about him."
Kumar nodded, thoughtful. He had fallen in love with a woman because she was different. He could understand that. Never mind the fact that his love was unrequited, not everybody was as unlucky as he had been.
The tiger hunter offered him his part of perfectly cooked fish. In spite of the inviting smell, he needed to know more, though.
"What happened next?" he asked after a quick thank you.
"Manjeet managed to have himself kicked out of his community and married Ashlee. She was pregnant when they came for him. The Sect was born and one of his childhood friends wanted him back. We never saw him again."
Probably killed by the High Priest. So the man who gave him nightmares was the founder of that madness. And the Sect now controlled the king of Arquon, which meant they might eventually leave their underground city to rule the kingdom...
Kumar looked at the tiger hunter, wondering if he knew the High Priest had seduced the man who was now king when he was fifteen and still completely controlled him. He had felt Neeraj's jealousy on himself when the now twenty-five-year old king had come to the underground city once: the High Priest liked his lovers young, and Neeraj was too 'old' now that he had new toys – Kumar and his friends.
"When she lost her baby, Ashlee was desperate," the tiger hunter resumed his tale after eating in silence. He was obviously obsessed with that story. "I offered my heart to her and she accepted to marry me only to die in childbirth."
"At least they didn't take her," Kumar commented. Now he knew how close to the Sect he still was, but they thought he was dead, so he had time to regroup and learn a new skill before going back to Akkora.
"They broke her heart."
"They'd have broken her body, it would have been worse," he assured.
The man looked at him knowingly. "I'll help you deal with it," he said. "Unless you prefer going back home."
"I don't have a home," he replied gloomily. Abandoned at birth, grown up on the streets, raped and beaten and... no, he didn't have a home.
"Parents? Relatives?" the tiger hunter insisted.
He shook his head. He had his gang, the Orphans. Before the Sect got them. Now he had only Maya, and she couldn't live in towns.
"The House of Children," the man deducted.
He nodded.
The man sighed. "Well, I guess I'll have to take care of you, then," he said.
"I don't need to be taken care of," he replied proudly. He took care of everybody. He offered his body to spare his friends. He didn't even remember when he had lost his virginity! He had stayed with them when the Sect had captured them (if only he had known what awaited them, he'd have chosen immediate death!), and had covered their backs when they escaped. He was the leader, the caretaker, the...
"Then go back to the Sect and let them help you," the other teased gently.
He averted his eyes. He had been foolish. He had allowed adults to use and abuse him. He had tried to protect his friends when he couldn't even take care of himself.
"There's no dishonor in asking for help," the tiger hunter added.
"Thanks," he answered sullenly. He knew men didn't do anything for free. That one was meant to ask him something in return for the help. He might a
s well get that out of the way. "Do you want my body?"
"Good Gods, no!" the man laughed. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to insult you," he apologized seeing how serious he was.
"I like paying my debts, and I have only my body to do it," Kumar said. A battered body with a shaken mind, but still. In spite of his belly scar he knew he was still attractive. And he wouldn't let anyone inside his messed up head anyway.
"I don't want your body," the man assured. "Your apprenticeship will repay me well enough."
Kumar stared at him. He couldn't believe his ears. That man would have made an excellent father. Not that he had experience with fathers – he didn't have one, never had – but he thought that's how they should behave.
"You're the first decent man I've met," he said.
"You're the first boy with an elephant I've met. Do you think Maya will help us get that tiger?"
"Oh, she's good. She saved me once already."
"Good. I know her name, but not yours, though."
"Kumar. You?"
"Sameer," the man offered his hand with a smile. Kumar took it and enjoyed the strong grip. "Let's go get that tiger."
***
After feeling restless for so long, Kumar was finally at peace. He had a mentor, a roof on his head, food and freedom. Slowly the nightmares faded away, and he learned to control his body – and the surges of energy he feared could call the Sect upon him.
He liked Sameer. Grumpy, but good. They didn't have long conversations, concentrating on the tasks at hand – hunting, cooking, living in the jungle with very sparse visits to close villages – but he didn't mind it. He wasn't very talkative anyway. And for the first time he didn't have anybody to take care of. He was on his own, building his life, and it felt good.
The memories of the sacrifice, the Sect and the rest were fading as he adjusted to a new way. He thought he could grow some fondness for Sameer, but his heart seemed dead, and his feelings with it. He didn't miss his past. He didn't want to miss anybody. He only wanted to forget. Survive and forget. Eat, sleep, hunt. And forget. Forget the hands, mouths, whips and chains.
He exulted when he killed his first tiger. He silently followed Sameer in the nearby villages to sell pelts and snake skins. Sameer lived close enough to the Sect's underground city to know about them, but wasn't one of them. He was strong enough to resist the call of the Dark Pond and controlled enough to resist any other urge. Kumar really admired him, almost as much as he had admired someone else, albeit for other reasons.
He decided to become as strong and controlled as Sameer, and then he could look up the woman who has stolen his young heart before he fell into the Sect's trap.
Yash
Yash watched the sun set on his wedding night, brooding. He didn't like the royal palace outside of Zarquon, he didn't like being married at fifteen when his older brother was still betrothed, he didn't like leaving his hometown of Agharek to come to Arquon. But he was a prince of Akkora and knew both his worth and his duty.
He couldn't complain about the bride. Princess Meena was one year younger than him and pretty enough, but she hadn't smiled once since they had met. She had pouted throughout the ceremony and the banquet, and now she had left him waiting in their bedroom. He didn't think a woman would need so much time to prepare for bed, not even on her wedding night.
Candles flamed on with a magic breeze and he stared puzzled at the light in the room. So it was true, there was real magic in Arquon. He glanced worried at the darkened sky outside, then Meena appeared out of nothing, accompanied by Ramesh, the High Priest of the Sect who had performed the wedding ceremony. The princess wore a white silken nightgown, the priest only a red loincloth, showing off a tattooed torso that had been covered thus far.
"Prince Yash, your bride," Ramesh said, offering Meena's hand.
He hesitantly took it, but the princess kept staring at her feet, still pouting. He pulled her closer and lifted her chin, but she refused to look him in the eyes.
"You didn't have to marry me if you didn't want to," he snapped, letting her go. True that she didn't have her father anymore and maybe her brother the king had spoiled her. Still, it wasn't fair that he had obeyed while she so obviously wasn't willing to make it work.
"Of course she wanted to." Ramesh pushed her towards him. "Come on, Meena, show him."
She turned to glare at the High Priest. "Why? You already have enough of me?"
Yash blinked, incredulous. What was going on? Why was Ramesh still in the room? Why was his bride more keen to sleep with an older man than with him?
"I know what to do tonight," he said, thinking maybe she was afraid he had no experience at all.
She scoffed at him. "I'm sure you do. But you'll never be as good as Ramesh."
What? He gaped at both.
Ramesh shrugged and signaled to ignore her. ""Meena, Yash is your husband and you will sleep with him now. " The High Priest spoke as if he were talking to a child.
She glared at him again. "Fine!" she spat and went to the bed, taking off her nightgown and throwing it at Yash who was too stunned to move.
"Please," Ramesh motioned him towards the bed. "She's all yours."
Nonplussed, Yash turned his back on the High Priest and went to the bed.
He took Meena in his arms, kissing and caressing her, but she kept watching over his shoulder and behaved as if he wasn't there. He pulled back, snorting in frustration.
"Meena, I can't do it if you're not with me!" he complained.
"I see you need help." Ramesh's voice behind him startled him. Meena smiled triumphantly as Ramesh joined them on the bed.
"No, wait, I don't need..."
Ramesh grabbed his male parts and he gasped. He tried to free himself, but the other man was stronger and kept stroking him and touching him until he moaned.
Ramesh kissed Meena who opened her legs to Yash at last. The young prince trust inside her, still upset by her behavior and Ramesh's touch. That wasn't what he had expected. He had never considered having another man in his married bed.
"Has he come yet?" he heard Ramesh ask.
Meena grumbled something he didn't understand as he discharged his load inside her. It dawned on him that she was no virgin, and that Ramesh had used her first. He lay on her trying to catch his breath and understand the whispers between Meena and Ramesh who was still looming over both of them.
Meena giggled and nodded.
"Are you still inside her?" Ramesh whispered in his ear. "Good. Ready for another go?"
Not really, he thought. Then he screamed in pain as Ramesh forced his way inside him. He tried frantically to free himself from both the wicked lovers, but couldn't.
Meena laughed out loud at him, and even grabbed his head to kiss him, drowning his moans in her mouth.
Yash felt Ramesh coming, and then they let him go. Meena slid out from under him to embrace the High Priest and he laid there on his belly, too shocked to move or speak.
His tormentors vanished and he lost consciousness.
***
Neeraj had been king for eleven years, and his passion for Ramesh was still as fierce as the first day. Unfortunately the High Priest had found other – younger – toys through the years, although Neeraj had been really jealous only of one.
Two, now that he had a brand new, very young brother-in-law. Meena didn't like him, but Neeraj knew what Ramesh saw in Prince Yash – his rebellious lover, lost to the Goddess's wrath after he tried to escape.
Neeraj found his brother-in-law alone and brooding. Of course Meena was back to the underground city of the Sect with Ramesh.
"How was last night?" Neeraj asked, curious. He knew his sister was as obsessed with Ramesh as he was, and wondered if the gorgeous Akkoran prince had managed to get through to her.
Yash gulped, but didn't answer. He barely glanced back, fearful.
"Meena came to you, right?" Neeraj insisted.
Yash nodded.
"She wasn't your first woman, I hope?"
"She wasn't alone." Neeraj scoffed. "Ramesh didn't leave."
Yash shook his head again, slower. He was now staring at him a little accusingly.
"I'm sorry, I should have insisted in keeping Ramesh busy," he shrugged. "See, he seduced Meena as soon as she became a woman."
"Why did you give her to me, then?" Yash spoke at last.
He sighed. "Because your father threatened a war if I didn't accept a wedding alliance. I had requested your sister Lalita for my brother Harish, but he withdrew her and sent you for Meena instead."
"He was advised not to waste his only daughter with this doomed kingdom," Yash said. "Why are you not married yet? You're twenty-six and your father has been long gone."
Neeraj chuckled. "Your father has wise advisers," he said. "And I will never marry because my heart is taken and I will be forever faithful to him even if he doesn't deserve it because he prefers younger men to me now. But when I was fifteen like you, I was his one and only and he was everything to me..."
He noticed Yash was gaping at him and shook his head with a smile. "I'm sorry, you can't understand if you have never felt such burning passion for someone."
"I haven't, and most certainly will not feel it for another man," Yash snapped.
"You have no idea of what Ramesh can do to your body..."
"I have a very strong idea, thank you."
"No, no, Yash, you felt only the pain of the first time. Let him guide you, and he'll teach you everything about pleasure."
"I don't want him to touch me ever again."
Neeraj stared at his brother-in-law with compassion. Yash was young. He was gorgeous. He would learn. Or die, like the little Akkoran bastard. Nobody could resist Ramesh.
"You cannot stop him if he wants you," he warned. "Don't fight it, or it will be worse."
"Can't you protect me? You're the king, he's supposed to obey you!"
"Alas, Yash, I am his blissful slave to love. When he lusts for somebody else I can only stand by and watch, waiting for him to forget his fancy and come back to me. He loves teens like you, but when they grow old like me, he just drops them."
Tales of the Southern Kingdoms (One Volume Edition) Page 7