Kamal looked at him, at last. "I don't know what it is, and I don't care," he said. "Get ready to be in command."
"You don't resign from a war-band like this one," Ashura said, gloomy.
"I'm not resigning, I'm taking responsibility for my mistakes!" Kamal snapped. "Do you really think General Kumar will ignore what I did to his son?"
***
Sentinels had warned Maya was coming back, so Kumar and Tarun were waiting on the portico of the main palace door. Maya came into the courtyard and trumpeted her greeting, bringing a smile to Kumar's face. His smile was wiped out by the sight of the howdah and Anjali who seemed to have someone lying in her lap. A patch of brown hair made Kumar's heart miss a beat.
"She's back!" Tarun sounded surprised.
"Not alone," Kumar muttered, rushing down the five steps as the servants helped Anjali out of the howdah, or better helped her to carry Rahul's unconscious body.
Kumar patted Maya as the servants lay Rahul on a stretcher.
Anjali's eyes were full of tears. "He's alive, but... maybe I was too late," she whispered, ashamed.
Kumar put an arm around her shoulder and they all went back inside.
Rahul was put to bed and physicians gathered around him. But Kumar knew what had been done to him as soon as he noticed how Rahul shivered at each and every touch. Could it be some Sect members had survived and joined the foreign Lord of War?
That night he gathered the family except Rahul who was still feverish and sick.
"I will gather the army and destroy them," he promised. "They shouldn't have touched him."
***
"You're a fool, he's going to kill you!" Ashura tried to talk some sense into Kamal as they waited for the Rajendra army to finish their display.
"So?" Kamal shrugged. "I'm sick of living anyway."
"Goddess, did you really have to fall in love? He was meaty, but..."
Kamal's glare silenced him.
The messenger they had sent to the enemy general was coming back at a gallop and two mounted men were following at a trot: General Kumar and his other son King Tarun in full body armor.
Kamal and Ashura met them midway between the two lines of soldiers.
"I had warned you," General Kumar began threateningly.
Kamal lifted his hand. "Spare my men. I'm the only one responsible. None of them ever touched your son, only I."
General Kumar's eyes narrowed in suspicion.
Ashura wasn't too happy with the little lie – he had touched Rahul once or twice, before Kamal had become way too possessive with the hostage – but didn't have a better option either.
General Kumar unsheathed his scimitar. "Fine, I'll kill you here and now."
Kamal unsheathed his saber, but dropped it in the sand. "Think twice. When your son recovers, he might want that honor himself."
General Kumar exchanged glances with King Tarun who looked even more worried than Ashura.
General Kumar put his scimitar back. Kamal smiled briefly and offered his wrists to be bound.
"What will your men do?" King Tarun asked.
"They'll choose another Lord of War. We don't have a dynastic succession."
"Is that your brother?" General Kumar pointed at Ashura.
"Yes," Kamal answered, turning to look at him.
"I will not retaliate," Ashura said, obeying his silent command.
"Stay out of my kingdom and I'll stay out of yours," King Tarun concluded.
***
Anjali sighed, staring at Rahul's troubled sleep. As morning came and her husband brooded, his mouth shut tight, she decided to pay a visit to the Lord of War.
She knew her father-in-law had locked him in an underground cell, chained to the wall with no clothes on, so she thought it was safe for her to bring him his meal.
She took the tray with a bowl of soup and a piece of bread, a jug of water and a goblet, and followed the jailor to the only occupied cell that looked more like a cage.
The prisoner was unshaven and looked asleep, but his head straightened when the jailor opened the cell gate. His black eyes followed her as she put down the tray and unlocked the chains, letting them slide through a ring so he could sit down, albeit still unable to attack her.
"Thank you," he said crossing his legs as she brought him the tray and started to feed him.
"This place stinks," she grumbled, wrinkling her nose.
"I've been here only five days, but I couldn't move around much," he apologized between bites. "How is Rahul?"
"He's coming back, very slowly." The thought made her thrust the spoon in his mouth a little more roughly than before, but he swallowed the soup without a protest. "Why did you do this to him?"
He scoffed behind his beard that made him look like his brother with longer hair. "You'd never believe me."
She thrust the spoon in his mouth again. "Try me."
"I fell in love.
She stared at him, incredulous. "With Rahul?"
He nodded, his mouth full. He swallowed. "Water, please."
She put down the bowl and picked up the jug and poured him some water. She helped him to drink, then gave him a piece of bread.
"Is Kamal your real name?"
"I picked it up when I arrived. I liked its sound."
"And what is your real name?"
"Which one?" He smiled ruefully. "I don't think I kept any name for more than a few years. Kamal will definitely do for the rest of my life."
"Kamal, have you ever known women?" she asked, frowning.
"Yes. In fact I had way too many of them. And they kept changing my name, while we're on the topic."
She offered him another piece of bread, but he refused. She pushed away the tray, settling for a long conversation. "Where are you from?" His previous answers had made her curious enough.
"The Queendom of Maadre."
"Where is it?"
"Beyond the sea. It's ruled by women. Men have no voices there. I was thrown in an institution at birth and grew up with my brother and other boys. They called me Moro. At thirteen I was moved to a Public House. That's our word for male brothels."
"Oh!" She gaped at him. "So you sold your body to women?"
"My owner sold my body, I never saw a coin." He scoffed. "They changed my name again to something suitably sexy. But I was rebellious. At sixteen they sent me to the Arena to be tamed. So I became a Gladiator. I learned to fight, I stayed alive. They renamed me Selvaggio. I was still an object and women could do what they pleased with me. It took me ten years to become Champion and earn my freedom. Then, with my team, we decided to leave our home country and find a place where men were less ill-treated."
"So you reached Akkora," she whispered, impressed.
He nodded. "And we found other men like us. None of us is very fond of women. But I must admit you're very beautiful."
She blushed. "Is that the reason why you let me see my husband?"
"Yes." He smiled. "And the fact that I knew I had lost him anyway, of course."
She sighed, lowering her eyes. "At the moment I've lost him too."
"You'll get him back."
She picked up the tray and got up on her feet. "Why did you give yourself up?" she asked.
"To spare my brother and my friends a new war."
"And aren't you afraid you'll be killed?"
"No, I don't care."
She left the cell, upset. Strange man. Strange story. She wondered if that country he mentioned existed.
"I've heard of it," her sister-in-law Madhouri said as they relaxed together in a pool with Mahouri's elder daughter. "The Queendom of Maadre... it's further than Bella's home country!"
Anjali had never met Rahul's mother as she was already gone when she had met and married him. "Do we have a map of the known lands?" she wondered.
"Of course," Madhouri smiled. "Our father-in-law has Sila friends, remember? They're gifted with maps..."
***
Rahul's mind came and went. Sometimes he was
in his room with Anjali, sometimes he was in Leland with Kamal. He often couldn't distinguish dream from reality and his voice still failed him.
"You know, he's here," Anjali whispered in his ear, holding him tight on a bright sunny day.
He looked at her, puzzled.
She was very serious. "Kamal. Your father put him in a cell, waiting for your recovery."
He pulled away from her, but kept staring at her, in disbelief. His tormentor was in Argantael?
She averted her eyes with a sigh. "I talked to him. Did you know he's from the Queendom of Maadre? He was abused by women there. That's why he fell in love with you."
Rahul gasped, lowering his eyes. Kamal had been a passionate lover. Possessive and commandeering, but he had always stated his true feelings. His two recurring sentences were "You're beautiful" and "I love you."
"He gave himself up to your father's wrath," Anjali continued, unaware of his inner turmoil. "I don't know why he was spared, but he's waiting for you to decide his fate. He doesn't look scared by the prospect."
Of course not, Kamal was also a fearless warrior. Rahul wanted to see him now.
He grabbed Anjali's wrist and pulled her away from their bed. His voice still deserted him, but he signaled her to take him to the cell. He had never been to the underground floor of the royal palace, but she obviously knew the way through the servants' quarters.
It was more a cellar than a prison and Kamal was naked, unkempt and chained to the wall. The mighty Lord of War was reduced to a harmless prisoner – just like Rahul had been. Almost.
Nobody was touching Kamal. Nobody was teasing and kissing and trying to seduce Kamal. Not that he looked very attractive anymore, especially in the stinky cell.
Their eyes met. No words were spoken. Rahul could still see the fire burning in Kamal's eyes, in spite of everything. He could feel his touch and his kisses.
Sobbing, he ran away from the prison, followed by a worried Anjali. He found solace in her arms, but it all felt very temporary.
***
Then Rahul started dancing his pain away. His musicians were instructed with signs to play the fastest songs, and the drummers accompanied them with the wildest rhythms as he danced, jumped, swung and gave vent to whatever was inside him through exhausting physical exercise.
The slow dances that had seduced Anjali and the rest of the court were forgotten. Kumar watched his son exert himself under the sun of the royal garden from his second floor window. It didn't look like it was working – Rahul's face was still haunted and his movements were more and more openly sexual instead of sensual. Maybe he was reliving his abuse instead of forgetting it.
One day Kumar called from his window as a sweaty Rahul emptied a flask of water after a particularly hot dance number. His son looked up and soon was in his room, although his grey-blue eyes avoided looking at him.
Rahul had regained some color, his usual weight and muscular tone, but his smile was still too rare and his voice absent. He walked to the window and started toying with an ivory casket on the sill that contained Kumar's most cherished memories.
Kumar observed him following the little ivory figures with his fingers wishing he could read his mind.
"Rahul, is there something I can do for you? Do you think abusing your tormentor like he abused you would make you feel better? I took him alive because he mentioned that to me, although I'm afraid he said it so he'd have the opportunity to see you again."
Rahul's profile didn't move, but some kind of smile flashed on his lips. He shook his head. His fingers accidentally opened the lid of the casket – he had never been curious about the content, and he was seeing it for the first time.
Kumar saw him freeze, his eyes widen in horror. He heard him gasp. Rahul's hand slowly dived in the casket and pulled out a collar with a short chain and manacles – a memory of the Sect. Rahul stared at it as if knowing exactly what the strange artifact was used for.
Kumar's heart sank. He knew there were Arquon survivors in the war-band that occupied Leland. Could it be there were Sect members still alive, or had they simply found the artifacts by chance somewhere? Someone might have come out alive from the underground city and disseminated objects around.
Rahul looked up at him accusingly. He showed the collar as if to ask where it came from.
"I found it in Keiko's room when the underground city was destroyed," Kumar said stepping forward.
Rahul closed his fingers on the collar.
"I hadn't seen one in sixteen years..." He stopped next to Rahul. "I don't know why I picked it up. Ramesh was already dead, I couldn't really throw it at his face."
Rahul's expression and hand movements seemed to ask if the collar had been used on him.
He smiled ruefully. "Yes, Rahul. The Sect used it to tame its newest members. It was put on me when I was fifteen."
Rahul looked shocked. His hand went to his neck.
"They used one on you as well?" Kumar asked.
Rahul slowly nodded, his eyes wandering, unable to stop on anything.
Kumar gently peeled his son's fingers from the collar and put it back in the casket – next to his silken noose and other memories.
He pulled Rahul in his arms and hugged him. Silent sobs shook Rahul's shoulders.
"You know, it took me fifteen years to exact my revenge on the man who abused me," Kumar said, thoughtful, stroking Rahul's hair. "You don't have to wait that long."
***
Servants came. Kamal was unchained and taken out of the cell. They brought him to a room where they bathed, shaved and groomed him, giving him back his white clothes but not his saber.
Then Kumar came into the room. Kamal though he looked majestic in spite of age and lack of royal blood and really admired him – like the father he never had.
Kumar didn't smile. "Rahul wants you to watch him dance, then it's anyone's guess."
"I'm honored, my lord," Kamal replied, a little surprised.
He followed the general to the royal garden where King Tarun sat with his wife, and Anjali patted the pillow next to her when she saw him. He sat between her and Kumar, then Rahul came out on his little marble stage. Music started and Kamal couldn't take his eyes off of Rahul sinuous movements, his great body – half naked in the sun – and the sensual rhythm he was following. Their eyes met often, and Rahul seemed to challenge him. He was definitely dancing for him, and Kamal's heart started singing. Could it be he had been forgiven?
Then the music stopped with Rahul on his knees in front of him, chest heaving, hair curling up in the heat. He was so handsome he took Kamal's breath away. The foreigner was spellbound by those grey-blue eyes.
In the sudden silence Rahul slowly smiled. He had caught up his breath and moved without warning. Kamal couldn't see where the knife came from, but he found a blade on his throat, Rahul's face a few inches from his.
Rahul ground his teeth while his left hand slid around Kamal's neck to cup the base of his skull to keep his head still against the blade. Not that Kamal wanted to move, or avoid the knife pointed at his main artery.
How much time had passed since that day in the desert when Kamal had put his knife on Rahul's throat to negotiate a treaty? This was the same but different. Rahul's eyes were haunted and no, he hadn't forgiven him for what he had done, he could see it now.
Kamal smiled. "If it makes you fill better, please, do it. Do it now." He wanted to add "I love you" but considered it inappropriate. So he just waited for Rahul's decision.
***
Kumar stared uneasily at Rahul. He heard Kamal's words and waited. Rahul seemed on the verge of tears. Kamal smiled again and broke eye contact.
Rahul's arm swung. Anjali yelped as blood sprayed her. Kamal collapsed, his face serene.
Rahul's voice came back in a loud, endless cry. He collapsed too, writhing and screaming.
Kumar and Tarun pinned him to the floor, but he banged his head on the marble, so Kumar grabbed his hair and kept his head still.
Th
e scream seemed endless. The grey-blue eyes wide open as if taking in a vision of horror. Until Rahul lost consciousness and his heaving chest slowed down.
Tarun stared shocked at his brother, releasing his grip on him. Kumar took Rahul in his arms as if he were still a child and slowly brought him to bed. Hopefully the nightmare was over.
***
Except it wasn't. Rahul might have recovered his voice, but used it for snarky replies and grunts. His former sunny self was still missing and he still brooded most of the day. Burying his tormentor hadn't freed him.
Again Kumar summoned him to his private quarters, trying to remain calm in front of his changed and upset son.
"Tell me, Rahul, what else bothers you?"
Rahul fidgeted, refusing eye contact. "What if the Lords of War attempt another invasion now that we killed one of them?"
"He wasn't a hostage and they will not come for him."
Rahul hesitated again. "What if I did him wrong?"
"No, Rahul, he wronged you."
"But he said he loved me!"
"So did Ramesh every time he raped me."
Rahul looked at him, desperate and at loss for words.
Kumar hugged him. "Why are you so confused?" he chided. "Your stay in Leland can be compared to my stay with the Sect. Except you didn't grow up in a House of Children, or on the streets. You have a loving wife and a loving family, why can't you just forget this ugly episode and move on?"
"Because I liked it," Rahul whispered, ashamed. Kumar had to strain to hear him.
"Of course you liked it, he knew how to please you. But did you also like touching him? Did you find him attractive?"
Puzzled, Rahul pulled away to look at him. "Uh... no," he admitted, lowering his eyes.
"See?" Kumar smiled stroking his hair. "He might have loved you, but you certainly didn't love him. Here's what we're going to do, Rahul. We're going to travel, just you and me. I want to see your mother's home country and I need you as an interpreter."
"But..." Rahul looked scared.
"You're bilingual, and I was too old to learn a second language when I met your mother. This should keep your mind busy enough to forget Leland and the Lords of War. What do you think?"
Rahul looked confused now. Maybe he enjoyed brooding or liked feeling ashamed.
Tales of the Southern Kingdoms (One Volume Edition) Page 20