"Father!" Mohan protested.
"Shut up!" Kunal got up, grabbed Hemal by his hair and dragged him out of the room.
***
Hemal found himself prisoner in his own room, with a dog collar that chained him to the wall and didn't allow him to go out to the inner garden. Furniture was removed, so he had to sleep on the floor, and Kunal whipped his clothes off of his body.
"Enough!" he pleaded, curling up to protect himself from another flogging.
"Not until you die, dog!" Kunal replied hitting him again.
Hemal was naked and covered in blood as new energy flooded Kunal's arm. The whip was becoming as effective as his scimitar had been, except it gave a slower, more painful death. The little bastard would pay dearly for what he had done.
Mohan entered and stared at both of them. "Father, enough, leave him alone," he said with a determined tone.
Kunal turned to glare at him, but he didn't flinch.
"Stop defending him!" Kunal snapped. "You're my son and you shouldn't care about him!"
"He's my brother."
"No he's not! He's a bastard son of a commoner..."
"He's a human being. And was my half-brother until he turned eighteen. I won't forget who loved me and took care of me. Even if it's been six years and he's disgraced, Hemal is still my brother and I don't want you to treat him like this."
"You don't want? You're not the king, Mohan! And you're too weak to ever become one! Go back to your room and keep your mouth shut!"
Mohan clenched his teeth, furious.
"You always hated me, Father. I had to find somebody else to love."
"A man can live without love."
"And a child? You were the most loved child of the kingdom, with three younger brothers who adored you! I thought Hemal was my elder and loved him accordingly."
Kunal scoffed. "He's not your elder. And you're a spoiled only child."
"And you killed your own brother," Hemal whispered.
Both Kunal and Mohan heard him.
"Shut up, bastard!" Kunal's whip hit again the bruised body.
"Enough, Father!" Mohan managed to grab the whip and threw it in the garden. While Kunal stormed to retrieve it, he kneeled by Hemal and saw he had lost consciousness.
***
"Hello." Deepika was surprised to see Mohan outside of her door.
"Can I come in?" he asked, depressed.
"I'm trying to get some rest."
"I'm not here for sex, Deepika."
"Then come in. What can I do for you?"
"You remember my brother Hemal?"
"Yes, he's sweet, but he ran away from me. I've never met a man looking for love instead of sex!"
"Let me tell you his story..."
***
Deepika stared at the bruised Hemal, upset. The bed had been brought back into the room, but he lay there pale and unconscious, his neck still enclosed in the dog collar and his body marked by the whip.
"Gods!" she whispered, shocked.
Mohan guided her to the bed. Someone had cleaned the major wounds, but Hemal didn't look any better.
"Will you help him, Deepika?"
"How?" She sat on the bed and took Hemal's hand. "How could the king do this to him?"
"I don't know," Mohan grumbled. "Kunal hates the whole world. He hates me and him and my mother... Maybe he doesn't have a heart."
"There must be something that moves him."
"Mother says he loved only his first wife."
"Hemal's mother?"
He nodded. "Still, he killed her."
Deepika sighed, caressing Hemal's face.
"Did he wake up yet?" Kunal's imperious voice startled them as the king came in.
"No, he didn't," Mohan snapped. "And even when he does, you better leave him alone!"
"Listen, boy, I already told you to stay out of this!"
"No, you leave Hemal alone now! You'll kill him if you go on like this!"
Kunal scoffed. "The bastard shall end as he deserves."
"Enough!" Mohan lost his patience. Like his father used to when he was prince heir, Mohan had his own scimitar now. Without thinking, he unsheathed it. The curved blade swung like it had done so often twenty-four years before.
"May the Gods damn you..." Kunal rattled and collapsed to the ground. Not even when death was claiming him could he forgive.
Mohan dropped his scimitar, shivering in horror at the sight of what he had done. Mitali rushed in, sensing something had gone badly wrong. She stopped dead in her tracks at the sight of her husband's still body, then her eyes went to her upset son. She rushed to hug him as he repeated mechanically, "I killed him, I killed him."
"Calm down, honey, it's the best thing for all of us," the queen said. "He'd have killed us all, eventually." Mohan started sobbing on her shoulder. "Don't cry, Mohan, your father never loved you..."
"But I loved him!" he cried out, desperate.
Deepika averted her eyes from his sorrow and looked at Hemal again, but the young man didn't stir.
***
When Hemal opened his eyes, he found Deepika by his side.
"Hello," she smiled.
"Hello." His reply was a whisper and he averted his eyes.
"It's over, Hemal. You're free."
"What about Kunal?"
"He's dead."
"How?"
"Mohan. Used his scimitar without thinking. You're free, Hemal, nobody will hurt you ever again."
Hemal turned his head the other way. He was still bruised, but his neck was free. He was still weak, but would recover eventually. "I want to leave."
"To go where?" she asked, worried.
"In the jungle," he said.
She stared at him, puzzled. "Are you mad? What would you do alone in the jungle?"
"I need to be alone."
"Kunal is dead and we love you. You don't need to leave."
"I don't want to live among the people," he said. "Not after what they've done to me."
"It was one man and he's no more," she chided. "Hemal, let me help you..." She tried to pull him close to her, but he resisted.
"What is it, a new game?" he asked, sarcastic. "Have you been paid to do this?"
"No." she pulled back, wounded. "I might be a whore, but I do have a heart. And you stole it the moment you said you were looking for love and not sex."
"I'm sorry," he looked away again. "I don't feel anything for you."
"Stay for Mohan, then!" she begged. "You can't leave him again! You can be co-regent..."
"I don't want to be king, Deepika. I have no royal blood in my veins. I thank you for the help you're offering, but I cannot accept it. You're beautiful and if I weren't so sick I'd happily try to get to know you better. But at the moment I can't, I'm sorry."
***
"Are you sure you need to go?" Mohan asked.
"Yes," Hemal answered. "I'm sorry. Now that I recovered, I'd rather be on my way."
"Please come back," Mitali said, hugging him.
"When I forget... if I can forget..."
"Do you hate us?" Mohan asked.
"No." Hemal tried to smile. "Be good."
"That's what you told me last time," Mohan said lowering his eyes. "When I was told you were dead."
"Well, this time if you hear I'm dead don't believe it," Hemal tried to joke. "Bye."
He turned his back on them and started his journey to the receding jungle that had become much smaller than the one that had given shelter to his parents when they had sired him with love.
"Come back soon!" Deepika shouted after him.
He waved without turning back.
The Lords of War
Thirty years had passed since Keiko's death and the destruction of Arquon. Kumar had survived both Indira and Bella as well as a couple of his children who had died in infancy.
Tarun was fifteen when his mother died, so Kumar had been co-regent with him for five years to help him run the kingdom, but Tarun had become the sole king
of Rajendra at twenty and had been reigning for ten full years now.
Kumar had retired to dote on his daughters and his son by Bellan. She had called him Raul, accent on the A, but everyone used the southern version of the same name, Rahul, accent on the U.
Rahul was twenty-three now, a great dancer like his mother, a loving husband to his pregnant wife Anjali and Tarun's best friend. The girls were all gone, married, but Tarun and Rahul stuck together as if they were full-blood brothers. Both married to their sweethearts, they were genuinely fond of each other now that the age gap wasn't a problem anymore.
Kumar had grand-children from Tarun and his daughters, but he looked forward to Rahul's first baby. Then the troubles of Akkora, which began with the death of unworthy King Kunal, reached him. At sixty he had to call the army again and become a general, as Tarun was a peaceful king with no real warrior experience.
So Tarun stayed at Argantael with Hiroyuki, Takeshi and Sarita's firstborn, who was now Captain of the Royal Guard, and Kumar led the army to the border with Rahul, ready to stop the invasion.
Kumar saw how the wasteland that had been Arquon had expanded in thirty years. Very close to the border river all vegetation ended and the lone mountain where the Sect had dwelt was now completely in the open.
Kumar knew the Lords of War had settled in Leland before marching north. Spies had told him that this particular warband was a strange mix of Arquon survivors, Akkorans unaffiliated to any tribe or clan and a few foreigners – all men. They were fearsome warriors and had risen to power with brute force, conquering the falling city of Leland to start their rule and quickly trying to expand their territory.
Their leader seemed to be aware that the major threat could come from Rajendra – a still united kingdom – more than the rest of Akkora, hence the challenge sent to Argantael to meet him and fight him in a battle that would decide who ruled who.
The Rajendra army also had elephants trained for war, but the Lords of War had either camels or horses – not surprising, considering how the jungle had disappeared from their part of the world. The Rajendra soldiers had chain mail, plate armor on their chests and forearms, and conic helmets; the Lords of War had big turbans that effectively protected their heads, and covered their faces leaving only their eyes out, and had leather armor over their many tunics, an effectively padded protection from most blows. Rajendrans had lances, scimitars and crossbows, the mixed war-band had maces, sabers, bows and pikes.
The armies faced each other with only a stretch of sand between them.
***
Kumar and Rahul exchanged a glance before the first charge.
"You should wait here," Kumar said.
Rahul smiled boldly. "I'm a dancer, not a coward," he replied. "You taught me to use the scimitar along with Tarun. I will not go back without fighting for my brother the king."
"I should have sent you back to your mother's country," Kumar grumbled, his heart swelling with fatherly pride.
"We're actually fighting for your hometown."
"I was born in Leland, but Argantael is the first place I called home." Kumar sighed. "Fine, let's do it, let's get rid of that war-band now."
Rahul nodded. He couldn't really count them in the desert mist, but thought there were fewer enemies than friends.
Flags rose, trumpets and drums screamed and rattled, and the charge started from both sides. Mounted men and foot soldiers lowered their weapons, ready to meet the enemy in a loud clang of metal on metal. Elephants and horses contributed to the noise of the battle as blood started flooding the sand.
Rahul lost his helmet and his horse, and was surrounded by enemies. Soon they disarmed him and tied his hands behind his back. One of his captors dragged him to the leader who was still on horseback. They spoke a foreign tongue and while Rahul could see his captor's bearded face, the leader's was still covered.
He was lifted to the leader's saddle and found a knife at his throat. Trumpets sounded and the battle stopped.
***
Kumar saw his son in the enemy's hands and his heart sank. He led his horse towards the Lord of War, staring at Rahul who looked on the verge of panic with the blade ready to cut him open. Kumar nodded to reassure his son, then looked at the pair of black eyes right behind Rahul's face.
"What do you want?" he demanded.
"Surrender." The leader's voice was low and slightly accented. "You shall swear fealty and pay tributes to us and we will let you be."
Kumar nodded. "Let him go now."
The other man shook his head. "He will be a hostage. So we will know you will keep your word."
Kumar knew taking important hostages was normal in warfare, but didn't want to let his favorite son end up in the hands of strangers, to go to Leland where he had been so unhappy.
"I will be your hostage," he said. "Let him go."
"You're old, General Kumar. You might die at any time. We need a younger hostage."
"We will not harm him," the bearded man that looked like the leader's right hand added. "As long as you respect the treaty."
Kumar glanced at Rahul again. The young man looked sorry for having failed them all.
"You will treat him like a prince," Kumar warned. "Or I'll wipe you off the face of the world."
The two Lords of War exchanged a glance and nodded.
The leader took away the knife from Rahul's throat and passed the prisoner to his friend before spurring his horse forward. "You will set the treaty in writing, General..."
Kumar watched Rahul being taken away and felt his stomach tie up into a knot.
***
Rahul observed with curiosity what was left of his father's hometown. It had been plundered by the Lords of War, but hadn't been very prosperous in the first place. The fire that had eaten up Arquon's jungle and two of its main rivers had taken a heavy toll on the land around Leland as well.
The new owners of the city had settled into the governor's palace. Rahul didn't know if there were prisons anywhere in town as the old correction house his father had known so well had crumbled down long ago.
The bearded man helped him down from the horse that had carried him so far – his hands were still tied behind his back – and led him inside the palace. The great hall was still well furnished and lived-in, but the upper rooms were in a more sorry state.
"Do you speak our language?" Rahul asked his captor having heard him speak mostly to his leader in a foreign tongue.
"Yes, but Kamal is better." The man pushed him into a bedroom with a big bed and a small balcony. Rahul considered it strange that the bed was in the anteroom of what must have been the governor's private apartment.
"Who is Kamal?"
"I am." The leader came in behind them, his face still covered, his eyes burning with something Rahul couldn't recognize but that sent a shiver down his spine. "Welcome to my bedroom, Prince Rahul."
Rahul looked around, puzzled. "Your bedroom?"
"We can share, can't we?" The man pulled down the fabric covering his nose and mouth and took off the big turban freeing his head. He had short black hair and his face was clean-shaven. He looked about Tarun's age, which meant he was quite young to be an army leader.
Rahul stared at him in wonder. "How did you become Lord of War?"
Kamal smiled and shrugged. "We do not have a dynastic succession. We choose our leaders among our best men."
"And he was the best," the bearded man added fondly.
Kamal scoffed. "My younger brother," he said, waving his hand towards his companion. "I bet you'd do the same for your king."
Rahul nodded, gulping down his surprise.
"I think we all need a bath," Kamal added. "Especially you." He pointed at Rahul's chain mail and metal armor. "Ashura."
Kamal's brother cut Rahul's ties. The hostage massaged his wrists, uncertain. Kamal pointed to the next room, where, as expected, a small pool awaited them. The bedroom should have been beyond the bathroom, but from the door-less opening Rahul could glance into th
e next room and it was obviously unused.
Rahul felt so dirty, he quickly undressed and splashed in the water, trying to get the desert sand off his hair and body. Almost immediately Kamal joined him as Ashura took away the bundle of clothes and armor. Rahul was startled by Kamal's touch.
"Let me help you," the other man whispered, spreading soap on his shoulders and back.
Kamal even shaved his after-battle stubble, probably thinking it was better not to put a blade in his hand. Rahul was a little embarrassed to have a stranger helping him. He sometimes bathed with Tarun so they could scratch each other's back and talk in confidence.
Then Kamal's hands reached for his lower parts under the water. Rahul pulled away, shocked to see the foreign man smile. So Kamal had done it on purpose!
Rahul decided he was clean and got out of the pool, looking around for a towel – but there were none.
Kamal's touch startled him again as the other man pushed him towards the bedroom where Ashura was waiting, still clothed.
Raul noticed Ashura's appraisal of his body and nervously tried to cover himself with his hands. He glanced at Kamal and recognized the look in his eyes this time: lust. Lust for him.
Rahul gasped noticing Kamal's arousal. Kamal smiled and caressed his freshly shaven cheek. Rahul slapped his hand away, at a loss for words. What was that man planning to do?
"I'm a hostage," he warned. "Harm me and my father will kill you."
"I will not harm you," Kamal grinned. "Unless you disobey, of course. But if you let me have my way, you'll enjoy your stay as much as I will."
"I don't know what you have in mind, but I don't like the sound of it." Rahul frowned, glaring at the foreign man who didn't look embarrassed by his own nudity.
Kamal's hand passed over Rahul's chest, brushing his right nipple. "You're the most beautiful young man I have ever seen, Rahul."
"So? I'm married."
"There are no women here."
It dawned on Rahul what that was all about. His eyes widened in panic as Kamal grabbed his wrists. Behind him, Ashura put a collar around his neck and then they blocked his wrists with leather manacles tied by a short chain that was locked to the collar at the nape of his neck.
"Get yourself comfortable." Kamal pushed him towards the bed. "And welcome to the pleasure palace."
Tales of the Southern Kingdoms (One Volume Edition) Page 18