More Tales of the Southern Kingdoms (One Volume Edition)

by Barbara G. Tarn

  Harish had learned to distinguish the twin kings from their behavior towards him. His father was always warm and kind, but his uncle mostly gave him the cold shoulder. He was supposed to be the shadow king, but he often bordered on mute when Harish was around, and he often wondered what the problem was. He felt some similarities with his uncle, but couldn't pinpoint them since Dahana didn't talk to him.

  The table in the king's private office was covered with scrolls and parchments. King Daruka Dahana had obviously been studying the kingdom's history to find out if a case like this one had happened before. Harish was curious to hear the results, since Rohit had no idea, either. It was comforting to know that for once his princely twin was as ignorant as he.

  King Daruka opened the session by recounting some history. As main ruler and voice of the kingdom, he reminded his relatives how the first twin kings had come to power, reigning for years in harmony and strengthening their father's kingdom. Since the joint rule had worked so well for their ancestors, bringing Amrendra up to par with the other southern kingdoms, the law had been written for a continuous double rule. Like Rohit had said, twins sat on the throne and the throne would pass to the first line to produce another pair of boys.

  "Dahana and I have reigned for almost twenty years now," King Daruka continued. "When our firstborns arrived, we rejoiced, because even though Ajay was one, I'd had the required twins for the succession. Hence I became the main heir, although my second boy was very sickly."

  He smiled at Harish who hid his malformed hand under the other.

  "In spite of being a royal baby, I thought my Rahul didn't make it during a particularly harsh winter, and so we were left with two single boys born one day apart..."

  "How could you think I was dead, if you didn't bury me?" Harish asked.

  "We buried so many babies that winter, I assumed you were one of them," his father replied. "I should have checked all the little corpses personally, but we were in a state of emergency and only in the spring did we realize there were only two boys in the nursery instead of three."

  Harish nodded, blushing under Ajay's glare. As if it were my fault that I was born sickly. He'd been a sickly child all right, who knew what Master Zahin had seen in him to decide to buy him and train him as an acrobat.

  "Years went by and we both failed to deliver more twin boys," King Daruka continued. "So we decided to bend the rules and have two 'almost twins' who had grown up together and surely could rule in harmony like we and our ancestors have done."

  It made sense. What didn't make much sense was putting a jester in such a position. Harish decided to speak his mind. If Ajay had been raised to rule, who was he to take his place? He'd have no idea where to start from or what to do.

  "Can I be just Rohit's shadow with no power whatsoever?" he concluded with a pleading look at his father.

  "You have just proven you'd be an excellent ruler. Your brother is prepared to be the main voice, but your common sense can help him to deal with some issues more than any instruction we could give him," King Daruka replied, staring fondly at him.

  "I understand you are the main speaker, but I would also like to hear my uncle's opinion," Harish said, determined, staring at King Dahana, who, to his surprise, lost his coldness. Ajay, Rohit and King Daruka were just as startled, and all turned to look at the "shadow" twin.

  King Dahana thinned his lips and stared briefly at the table before looking at Harish. Not so hostile any more, rather... sorrowful.

  "Dahana?" King Daruka asked, puzzled.

  King Dahana took in a deep breath before speaking, never taking his eyes off of Harish's face.

  "Rahul, you most certainly have the royal blood of Amrendra running in your veins, and therefore I'm almost certain that you will forgive me for what I'm about to say. Since you came here, I'm sure you felt the bond between you and Rohit, and know there is something very similar between my brother and me."

  Harish nodded. "I can feel what he feels. And I can feel a parallelism between us as well. You are much like me, the silent twin, with a hidden sorrow that you will never express. I know what it means to feel ashamed of oneself."

  "You are ashamed of things that were beyond your control," Rohit said quietly.

  "Thinking of killing myself was well in my control," Harish retorted. "I didn't do it only because Kartik told me not to."

  "If you hadn't loved that man enough to listen to him, you wouldn't be here today," King Daruka said. "And that's why he is allowed to stay by your side even though he's not of noble birth. He saved your life. He deserves the honor to stand by you."

  "There was a time where I also considered killing myself, feeling unworthy of the life and love I'd been given," King Dahana said with a rueful smile.

  "Father!" Ajay exclaimed, shocked. King Daruka simply gaped at his twin, speechless.

  "You are a kindred soul, Rahul, and I'm sorry I tried to get rid of you," King Dahana continued. "I'm sure you've felt fear or jealousy or some other violent feeling that almost pushed you over the edge."

  Harish nodded. "The only thing that kept me afloat was the thought of Kartik."

  "And the only thing that kept me alive but silent until today was the love for my twin brother. I hurt him the most and almost couldn't live with the guilt of what I'd done. But time heals everything – and I hope you will both forgive me, now that my misdeed has come back to haunt me."

  Dahana turned to his twin. "I was the one who gave away the sickly baby. I was jealous that you'd had twins while I didn't. And I thought the ugly baby – 'cause you were ugly, Rahul, dear – didn't deserve to sit on the Amrendran throne. I couldn't imagine he'd survive and become as handsome as Rohit."

  "Father, you have an identical twin, how could you not consider that Rahul and Rohit would be identical, too?" Ajay protested.

  "Weren't you the one who complained it wasn't fair that a twin out of nowhere was taking your place?" his father chided. "Well, now you know, Rahul doesn't come out of nowhere. He survived what I tried to do twenty-five years ago, and is proving to be more than worthy to sit on the throne. And now I have to ask for your forgiveness as well."

  Ajay stared at his father, his eyes wide with shock. Harish felt sympathetic with him – and Rohit and Daruka who had been betrayed by Dahana's sudden, irrational jealousy at his birth.

  "I don't have anything to forgive you for, Uncle," Harish said, breaking the shocked silence. "Maybe it was my destiny to grow up among the commoners and see more of the southern kingdoms than either of you ever will." He smiled fondly at all of them – his newfound family he never knew he'd missed.

  "I think if Ajay has twins before Rohit, they should be considered for the succession," he continued. "I will be the shadow king only while Rohit lives."

  "Twin kings tend to die at the same time," Rohit informed him with a grin. "And I won't let my wretched cousin produce the heirs before me!"

  "Just because you married one month before me, doesn't mean you'll beat me to it!" Ajay retorted.

  "Aah! See what I mean about our wretched cousin?" Rohit winked at Harish, who understood the old Ajay had come back. He looked forward to the brotherly bickering Rohit had described between him and his almost-twin.

  "So, am I still prince heir or not?" Ajay asked their fathers.

  The twin kings exchanged a glance and smiled.

  "The next king will be Rohit Rahul," Daruka said.

  "But if you provide twins before Rohit, the following heirs will come from your loins," Dahana added.

  "Sounds fair." Ajay conceded. He glared at Rohit. "You can't always win, you know?"

  "I believe this matter is in our wives' hands," Rohit retorted. Then he turned to Harish. "Thank you, Rahul. I'm very happy that you have come home."

  "And I'm very happy I finally have a home," Harish replied with a grin.

  "Welcome back, oh Mighty Prince Heir!" Ajay exclaimed. "How was your tour of the southern kingdoms?"

  "Neverending," Harish replied. "But inte
resting."

  "You missed Master Hiro. Lucky bum, you won't have to learn sword fighting from him."

  "Ajay! I could call one of our mercenary commanders to give you lessons!" Rohit threatened.

  "Really? Well I'm sure I'll get Gaia as teacher, since your brother will definitely prefer Kenu-whatsisname!"

  "The borders aren't secure yet, so Rohit will have to teach Rahul for now," King Daruka interjected, amused.

  "Or he could just skip the sword fight," Ajay shrugged. "After all, the shadow king isn't a warrior..." He stared fondly at his father who smiled.

  Harish decided he still had a lot to learn about twin royalty.

  The Hooded Man

  Hrithikesh sat on his heels in front of the painted statue of the Goddess Zindagi. He pulled up the hood of his green vestment, lowering his head in submission and closing his eyes in prayer. His education was complete. Thirteen years of training and a monastic life in the cloisters built behind the temple, fighting his own angst and learning to control his emotions only to reach today – and the choice of his life.

  The temple was cool and Hrithikesh wondered if he'd miss the shadows of the mighty statues and the sound of prayers and religious hymns, or the noisy canteen of the monastery, the sunny courtyard where he trained, and the long corridors. Would he miss his companions? Though they'd been part of his life, he'd been too introverted to call them real friends.

  The memory of a dimpled smile weighed heavily on his decision now.

  A choir of monks intoned a song of praise for Zindagi, Goddess of life. Hrithikesh listened to the glorious verses and took a deep breath as the echo of the last note faded out within the somber corridors of the temple.

  I'm ready.

  When he opened his eyes, he saw the abbot and the high priest staring at him from between him and the colorful sculpture. He inhaled the musty smell of incense and candle wax, and then he bowed his head again in respect for whatever gray hair they had left, since the abbot's head was completely bald.

  "Your training is complete, Hrithikesh," the abbot said, breaking the silence. His deep voice was loud enough to leave an echo in the great chamber of the temple.

  Hrithikesh nodded, gulping down his emotions. The abbot, the head of the monastery, was slightly older than his father, and he saw him as his true mentor. The abbot's voice booming in the lecture hall or soothing in the quiet of his office had always enthralled him, giving him balance and knowledge that he badly needed. He'd do his best to emulate the wise man – except for one thing.

  He could feel his companions behind him, like guardians looking over him, something they'd done for the past thirteen years. Yes, he'd miss the abbot, the monks and lay brothers that had been his family for so long. But he couldn't stay, and it was time he said it out loud.

  "Zindagi is everywhere," the high priest said, staring benevolently at him. His voice sounded frail compared to the abbot's. "There are two ways to honor her. Protect life, or give life."

  "You will have to make a choice, now, Hrithikesh," the abbot continued. "Will you be a monk or a father?"

  Hrithikesh licked his dry lips before looking up at the two men from his lower position. They really towered over him, although not as much as the statue behind them.

  "I want to go back to my hometown," Hrithikesh said, his voice a little shakier than expected. "I do not wish to be ordained at this time."

  The abbot's lips twitched in a repressed smile. So he knows, he's always known.

  Hrithikesh cleared his throat.

  "I promised someone I'd come back for her," he explained with a steadier voice. "But if she hasn't waited for me, I shall return here and be ordained."

  "If you choose fatherhood, you won't be ordained," the high priest replied. "Monastic life implies prayer, meditation and chastity."

  "I want only one woman, and if I can't have her, I'll gladly take the chastity vow," he assured them.

  "How old were you when you left?" the abbot asked, with a twinkle of mischief in his dark eyes. "Twelve, thirteen? And how old was she?"

  "Too young to ask for her in marriage," he answered with a sigh. "I promised her I'd come back, but I wasn't expecting to spend thirteen years here. I know that was what I needed for my education and my life, but..." He sighed.

  "She was always on your mind."

  "Yes."

  The abbot and the high priest exchanged a glance.

  "Very well," the high priest said. "You will go back to your hometown, and if your sweetheart has married someone else, you can come back and be ordained. Remember to always respect Zindagi in all her forms and don't use your training to take lives. You are sworn to protect life, either as priest or as layman."

  Hrithikesh bowed touching the ground with his forehead in acceptance, and then the abbot offered his hand to help him to his feet. He'd been still so long his legs and knees hurt.

  Even after he stood, the bulky abbot continued to hold his hand, and placed the other on his shoulder.

  "You were one of our best students, Hrithikesh. Your father did well to send you here. You are smart and learned to control your dark side better than others. You will be sorely missed. May Zindagi be with you."

  "Zindagi be blessed," he answered with a sudden lump in his throat.

  The abbot smiled and pulled him into a bear hug.

  "Have a safe trip," he whispered before letting go.

  Hrithikesh went back to the monastery to pack, fighting tears.

  ***

  Before leaving the capital, Hrithikesh stopped by his father's shop to say good-bye to his family.

  "So you're going back to Leland," his father said with a shallow sigh. "Give my best to Uncle Raju. Tell him we miss them all."

  "I will," Hrithikesh promised. "I might come back here, eventually."

  "We know you left your heart in Leland." His mother ruffled his dark hair with a tender smile. "But if she didn't wait for you or you can't find work up there, please come back. I'm sure Agharek is full of noble families looking for tutors who came out of the monastery of Zindagi."

  "Do you have money for the trip?" his father asked, wrinkling his brow.

  "Some brethren have gathered a few coins as farewell gift for me," he answered. "And I will be rowing on the river barge for passage, food and shelter up to Leland."

  He hugged both his parents and his younger sister, who would inherit their father's pottery shop. She'd always been good with clay, while he'd refused to follow in his father's footsteps. Which was why his father had suggested he enter the monastery and get an education.

  Hrithikesh had hated him then... but his father only wanted the best for his family. Hrithikesh might have never understood why they had to leave Leland, but he had quickly learned that the monastery of the capital wasn't a punishment. It was the best thing his father could do. The humble potter couldn't handle his son's energies, so the abbot stepped in.

  Over the years he had learned to respect his parents again, even if he still couldn't understand them. Leaving his family didn't hurt as much as leaving the monastery that had been home for so long.

  He went to the fluvial port and found the barge headed north, where he was given a seat on the rowing benches. Since they were going against the current, the permanent crew had hired a few extra people to help, and allowed passengers to do some of the work – which suited Hrithikesh, since chatting with a stranger kept his mind busy. Laboring under the sun with the other men would make the journey go faster. At the monastery he was always so busy, and he didn't think he could sit idly on a barge for a week.

  He stared at the white buildings of Agharek, and the river shining under the sun next to it, for as long as he could after they left the pier. He glimpsed the bell tower of the monastery and the pointed top of the temple, and then his vision blurred with tears, so he kept his eyes on his feet, concentrating on rowing.

  It was only later that night, when he lay on a pallet in the common room of an inn on the river shore, that he though
t back to what he'd left. The faces of his family, the monks and lay brothers, the instructors and students kept changing in a kaleidoscope that included flashes of that dimpled smile.

  He looked forward to seeing her again, to discovering what a wonderful woman she must have become, but mostly he wanted to know if she had waited for him. The beautiful child he'd left might not have taken his promise to come back seriously, and so many years had gone by... Sometimes he feared his journey would be in vain.

  But he had to do it, if only for his peace of mind. He fell asleep remembering the camaraderie of the monastery and his fellow students in the cloisters and halls behind the temple of Zindagi.

  ***

  The seven days necessary to go upriver went quite fast for Hrithikesh. He rowed half-naked most of the day, ate with the others and retired to sleep in common rooms. The jungle went by, interspersed with small villages where the barge stopped to load or unload. He could hear animal calls and glimpse colored feathers among the lush vegetation, but never saw a wild animal in full, although one night he heard a tiger roar in the distance.

  The only place they stayed two nights was Lakresha, a town midway between Agharek and Leland. Upon leaving the barge, a woman stopped and addressed Hrithikesh while he was gathering his things.

  "Will you be staying in town?" the female passenger asked. She looked wealthy enough to be either a merchant's wife or a lower noblewoman. Though she was older than him, she was still very beautiful. Her black eyes stared at him with the confidence of a higher-class woman who had the freedom to talk to a stranger of a lower class.

  "Uh, no, I'm headed for Leland, my lady," he answered with a curt bow. He'd met a few women like her in the streets of Agharek – married but bored and looking for younger men to have some fun with.

  "What a pity," she purred. "So you're here for two nights only?"

  He pulled his tunic over his sweaty body, wishing she'd stop staring at him with such open lust.