Kilig the Sword

by Barbara G. Tarn

  "Oh yes. I was a baby when he showed up in Agharek. But suddenly my father was more interested in him than any of us. My half-brother even developed a crush on him that cost him his life – not that I'm complaining, but I wanted to be the one who killed him."

  "Who did you want to kill?" Kilig asked. "Abhaya or your half-brother?"

  "Both. Since my half-brother left to follow Shamsher and was out of reach by the time I was able to go after him," Sabre answered with a shrug.

  "And your half-brother was...?" Guisarme said with a questioning look on her face.

  "You've met him as Chakram," Sabre answered, looking at Kilig.

  Hakeem's heart missed a beat. Sabre was Chakram's brother? The man who had almost raped him? He felt Kilig's eyes on himself and inhaled deeply to calm down.

  Sabre was as evil as his father and brother. Why had they allowed him into the Guild?

  Hakeem dropped the cutlery, his stomach in a knot, staring at the table. Kilig squeezed his hand, showing his support.

  "Abhaya's right arm was also Khopesh's son," Katar confirmed. "That much we'd figured out when they first came here, looking for Saif."

  "We had different mothers," Sabre said sourly. "And like I said, I wasn't very fond of Chakram." He put a lot of contempt in the assassin's name.

  "Why are we allowing Sanjana's father's killer into this Guild?" Hakeem blurted out, unable to keep his outrage inside.

  "Because I passed the admission test?" Sabre retorted.

  "I think it's still unfair and you should be hanged!" Hakeem insisted.

  "Would you like to try to kill me?" Sabre offered.

  Hakeem was about to scream "Yes!", but Kilig squeezed his hand and Guisarme said, "That's enough, both of you. You're junior members and you're not supposed to fight among yourselves."

  Hakeem stared pleadingly at Kilig to say something, but Kilig shook his head, serious. You don't disobey the Head of the Guild's direct orders was another rule.

  "By the way, Sabre, I meant to ask you," Guisarme continued. "Did you train at Agharek's school?"

  "As a matter of fact, no," Sabre answered with a half-smile.

  "I thought your combat style was different from Abhaya's," Kilig commented.

  "You're a killing machine," Sanjana added, repeating her own words. She didn't seem upset like Hakeem felt and spoke quietly to her father's killer.

  "I started training at six with my brother and Shamsher, but at thirteen my father sent me back to Agharek to attend the Fighting Monks school," Sabre explained.

  "Funny, that's where Talwar sent Abhaya when he proved unworthy," Guisarme said, thoughtful.

  "How do you know?" Sabre asked, puzzled.

  "Francisca told me," Guisarme answered. "Your mother," she turned to Sanjana, "said Abhaya was supposed to report to the monastery of Zindagi in Agharek." She turned to Katar. "But when he came back, he was with Khopesh and had been admitted into Agharek's Guild instead."

  Katar nodded. "And he allowed his mentor to kill his father. I was curious about what they teach down there and Sabre was telling me how they become immune to poisons."

  "We all start taking small quantities of poison very early, so our bodies get used to it," Sabre explained. "I stopped when I went back to Agharek, though."

  "So you don't use poisons yourself," Kilig said.

  "No, Zindagi is the goddess of life. The Fighting Monks protect life. The pole-arm is their favorite weapon."

  "That's why there were close to none in the other guilds," Hakeem muttered.

  "True, only Godwalkar's Guild actively uses the pole-arm." Kilig sighed. "I wonder who introduced it."

  "Talwar," Guisarme answered, serious. "All the rules were set by Talwar and Khanda. All the rules that Abhaya broke to follow Khopesh."

  Hakeem noticed Sabre was smiling ruefully, but kept his eyes low. No matter how much Sabre shared, he was still a mystery, and a danger.

  "Kukri, if you're done eating, will you come to my office, please?" Guisarme said, rising and startling him.

  Hakeem glanced at Kilig who nodded reassuringly. Sanjana hadn't moved. He rose too and followed Guisarme to the Head of the Guild's office.

  "Sit down." Guisarme sat at her desk and pointed him to the stool. Hakeem obeyed, a little nervous.

  "Hakeem, you're the troublesome member at the moment," she said, serious, using his birth name. "You're questioning authority and are hostile towards other members. You're still sort of Kilig's responsibility, but I thought I better clear things with you directly. Do you want to be part of this Guild, like your father was and your lover still is and will always be even if you dump him and break his heart?"

  "I will not dump him!" Hakeem protested. "I love him and you should stop trying to get into his pants!"

  Guisarme leaned forward.

  "Hakeem, darling, you have no sense of humor at all. Me and Kilig, we're just old friends. We bicker, we tease and we jest. Which doesn't mean we want to have sex, or we'd have done it more than once long before you came along. Is that clear?"

  "Oh." Hakeem lowered his eyes, embarrassed. "Yes."

  "Good." Guisarme leaned back. "Now, about Sabre. I know that he's good. He's not like his father or his half-brother or accursed Abhaya."

  "But how do you know? He's a stranger! He killed Nimdja! He..."

  "Hakeem." Guisarme put her dark blond mane behind her pointed ear. "I'm a half-blood, remember?"

  He gulped and nodded. He remembered her father, the Genn magic user who had protected them during the Guilds' war.

  "Now, I'm not a magic user like my father," she continued, "but I have visions. I dreamed of Francisca's death even though I wasn't present, and after Nimdja's death I had a vision about Sabre – he was like an avenging spirit, but his wrath wasn't for us. I could feel his motives and they were as good as ours. Talwar would have been proud of him. Saif would have been proud of him too. He might be a killing machine, but he won't do it just for the money. So he's one of us. You will have to accept him like everybody else."

  "Yes, Guisarme." Hakeem hung his head, feeling beaten.

  "Now go get some cuddles from Kilig and send me Anelace," she concluded, shooing him out. "Glad we talked, Kukri."

  ***

  "What's bothering you?" Kilig asked, squeezing Hakeem against him. They were both naked and had just had sex, but Hakeem was brooding, nestled against him, too quiet for Kilig's tastes. He didn't want another fight, and hoped it wasn't about Guisarme's gentle scolding.

  "Are you ashamed of me?" Hakeem asked.

  "Why should I be?" he replied, puzzled.

  "Apparently I'm still your responsibility and I didn't make you look good." Hakeem sounded whiny now.

  "I'm sure you misunderstood, we're two individuals and that's why Guisarme talked to you instead of telling me I should teach you some manners," Kilig said, thoughtful. "I think I should teach you control, more than manners, because you're often too rash in judging people. You should always give them a chance to explain their actions."

  Hakeem blushed and pursed his lower lip. He'd done it even with Kilig, jumping to the wrong conclusions and creating their first rift. He couldn't deny that.

  "I'm sorry," he muttered. "I did give you a second chance, didn't I?"

  "You gave me a hellish time, Hakeem, and I forgave you because I love you, but not everybody will be like me. Don't go around making enemies with rash judgments. I know first impressions are often right, but not always, so leave room for some doubt."

  Hakeem nodded and pulled away to look him in the eyes.

  "Guisarme said you'll always be a Guild member, with or without me," he said with a trembling voice. He seemed on the verge of tears now.

  "I can retire any time, like your father did," Kilig replied. "Do you want me to? Do you want us to go to Ramya's and forget the whole assassins' business? I can help my widowed sister, and you can help Ramya, and we stay away from this place if you want."

  Hakeem sniffled, averting his eyes.
>
  "But who's going to continue my father's school?" he whispered.

  "Hakeem, Saif was once Talwar's apprentice. And Talwar went to the Fighting Monks school like Sabre..."

  Hakeem glared at him for mentioning the newest member of the Guild.

  "Ah, so Sabre is the real problem," Kilig said. "Why, Hakeem? Why do you feel so threatened by him?"

  "He killed Nimdja." Hakeem sat on the bed, his arms wildly gesticulating as he spoke. "He's Chakram's brother! He's after you, even if you don't seem to notice! And Guisarme thinks he's a good guy! What makes you think he won't kill us all instead with some secret skills we never heard of?"

  Kilig took Hakeem's face in his hands so he'd still for a moment.

  "Hakeem, Sabre is not the enemy. Especially if Guisarme had a vision about him. She has skills we don't understand. And she can handle him, trust me." He quickly kissed Hakeem's lips and let him go. "Now I want you to think about something and make up your mind." He pulled Hakeem in his arms and held him tight. "Ask yourself this question. Do you want to be an assassin or not?"

  "Yes, but..."

  "And why do you want to be an assassin? Because your father was? Because you think it's the only way to keep me by your side? Because you feel threatened by Sabre and want to be able to beat him? Don't answer right now. Think about it. Don't make a rash decision you will regret, all right?"

  He squeezed Hakeem who sighed.

  "Yes, Kilig. I will think about it."

  "Good boy." Kilig stroked Hakeem's hair. "Whatever your decision is, I'll stand by you."

  "But do you want to be Guisarme's right arm?" Hakeem asked.

  Kilig pondered.

  "I don't know, Hakeem. I was ready to quit when we considered being assassins on the side – or when there was no communication between us. I'll freely admit I depend on you right now. Your decision is mine. I only want to be with you, wherever that may be."

  Hakeem's smile blossomed again.

  "Thank you, Kilig. Thank you for your patience and for your love."

  "What can I say, you thoroughly seduced me," Kilig teased.

  Hakeem chuckled before giving him a long, passionate kiss. The attraction between them was still strong, but if they wanted to build a lasting relationship, they had other decisions to make.

  Kilig knew that Hakeem's rashness was to blame on his youth and inexperience – Kilig had made his own share of rash and bad decisions when he was younger – and he was determined not to let Hakeem down, like Saif had done with him. As he tasted Hakeem's body once more, he hoped his strength would help Hakeem in his choices.

  ***

  Hakeem had accompanied Sanjana to visit her aunt and they'd stopped at Ramya's to say hello as well. The street was quiet now that the extortionists were gone, and Ramya asked when they'd move into the upstairs room, eyeing Sanjana and obviously thinking she was a better match.

  "You said you weren't sure you liked what I've become," Hakeem replied. "Thing is – I'm not sure either. I'm trying to make up my mind, and it's not easy, since all my new friends are there, including Sanjana here."

  "You're Sanjana, Lalima's daughter?" Ramya asked, surprised. "I haven't seen you since you were a toddler!"

  "I am she," Sanjana smiled. "Turned out that my parents and Hakeem's father were childhood friends. And all three joined the Assassins' Guild, that's why I grew up with my aunt."

  "Makes sense." Ramya nodded. "So now you're both following in your parents' footsteps?"

  "Yes," Sanjana answered.

  "I don't know which parent's footsteps to follow," Hakeem grumbled, frustrated.

  "I'll help him," Sanjana told Ramya. "After all, I could have stayed with my aunt..."

  Ramya chuckled and shooed them out, so they headed back to the Assassins' Guild.

  "Why can't you make up your mind, Hakeem?" Sanjana asked, frowning with worry. "You'll ruin your relationship with Kilig if you go on like this!"

  "I know!" Hakeem felt more frustrated than ever. "How can you help me?"

  "Well, you've met my aunt now." Sanjana flashed a dimpled smile at him. "I grew up with her, since my mother died over fifteen years ago. My memories of my mother are of a happy woman who loved me very much, but for my own safety left me with her sister, who was an unhappy, tired woman with too many children and too much responsibility. I swore I'd never become like her, married, with all those children and a stern husband... So when my uncle arranged my marriage, I ran to the Guild and to my father, who asked me what I wanted to be. And that's when Guisarme became my acharya and I never regretted my decision."

  They reached the street of the Guild's building and Hakeem pointed at the low wall of the cemetery, still pondering Sanjana's story.

  She sat on the wall and patted the stone next to her, so he settled by her side, wondering how he could tell his own experience.

  "I knew very early that I preferred men, and when my mother found out, she was very disappointed," he said. "Sometimes I think she died of heartbreak when she discovered I was like my father. He never said I should marry or anything, so I felt free to follow my heart."

  "And your heart is big but one-sided," she said. "You either love or you hate. You've been a recluse for too long."

  "I wasn't a recluse!" he protested. "But it's true I wasn't very loved. My mother's people called me 'the witch's son' and after she died... my father couldn't speak the northern language and we ended up secluded in our little cabin and he started training me."

  "So you never had real friends up north," she said, serious.

  "Not really. Not when my father died. And that's probably why I fell head over heels for Kilig even if he was grumpy and blunt and gave me a lot of bruises during my training."

  She giggled. "Which only made you fall harder for him."

  "Indeed," he admitted with a smile. "I love him, and I don't want to lose him, but... I still feel like a fish out of water, even if I was born here."

  "Well, I'll help you find your roots, so you can live happily ever after," she said cheerfully. "None of us enjoys killing, but how do you prefer to be called, Hakeem or Kukri?"

  "I want my loved ones to call me with by birth name," he answered after a brief hesitation. "But everybody else should call me Kukri."

  "That's why I haven't slapped you yet for calling me Sanjana in front of Ramya," she replied, winking. "But from now on, if we're not alone, you better call me Anelace."

  "Oh, of course, sorry!" he apologized.

  "I forgive you, Kukri," she said giving him a quick kiss on the cheek.

  ***

  Kilig was relaxing in the narrow pool of thermal water in the Guild's baths when Sabre entered the room and looked around, his towel around his hips, obviously ready for a bath.

  Kilig had to admit Sabre was quite handsome, especially half-naked as he was now, but he didn't have Genn-green eyes, therefore he couldn't compare with either Saif or Hakeem.

  "May I?" Sabre's voice startled him, since he'd averted his eyes from the young man.

  Sabre didn't wait for his reply. He entered the warm water and sat near him.

  "If you really must," he muttered, hoping Hakeem wouldn't be back for another hour or two. If he found them like that, Saif's son would probably have another fit of jealousy.

  "I'd like a word with you," Sabre replied with an amused smile. "And since it's almost impossible to find you alone, I'll have to disturb your bathing time."

  "If it's unavoidable... speak," Kilig said with a sigh.

  "I would like to know more about Chakram's demise," Sabre said, serious now. "How did you kill him?"

  "I stabbed him with my trident before he raped Hakeem. And I cut his throat as well. Is that what you wanted to hear?" Kilig answered, a little impatient. He didn't like remembering the fight with Abhaya and his men.

  Sabre nodded, thoughtful. "No time for a noose job?" he asked.

  "Not really. I was one against three," Kilig answered bluntly.

  "What about Kukri, couldn
't he help?" Sabre insisted.

  "He'd been captured. I was kind of saving him. Except he ended up saving me since Abhaya shot a poisoned dart at me. So Kukri finished him and took me to the Genn palace."

  Sabre nodded again, still lost in thought.

  "I guess having a Magical Race in town sort of helps." He looked at Kilig. "I'm glad you made it. Chakram and Shamsher didn't deserve to live."

  "Why do you hate them so much?" Kilig asked, a little jarred. He knew about sibling rivalry, but Sabre seemed almost obsessed with revenge.

  "That's why I wanted to speak to you alone," Sabre said, looking him in the eyes. "My brother earned his assassin's name by killing someone who was very important to me. A noose job. That's why I hoped he'd been killed in the same manner. But maybe it doesn't matter how, as long as he's dead. When I left the monastery of Zindagi I wanted to destroy all the Assassins' Guilds of the world."

  "Not a small task for such a young man," Kilig said.

  "I had had enough of my family's ways." Sabre shrugged. "And I really thought my brother and Abhaya were evil."

  "How did you earn your assassin's name?" Kilig asked bluntly.

  "My father told me to kill the Head of Argantael's Guild. I did it, because I thought all the Guilds were evil. Until I came here. And I understood why Abhaya wanted to destroy what his father had built."

  "I've never really known Abhaya," Kilig said. "You should discuss him with Guisarme."

  "And I did," Sabre replied. "I came here to talk about Chakram, not Shamsher."

  "So who did Chakram kill?"

  "Girish de Sayek, three years ago. Bastard son of a nobleman who had been sent to the monastery. He'd been kicked out and had gone back to live with his mother – and his father decided he was a worthless heir and had him killed."

  It obviously still hurt, and Kilig couldn't blame Sabre. The young man must have been madly in love with the bastard son to want to avenge his death.

  "Were you still seeing him?" he asked.

  "No, Girish told me to forget him when he left school," Sabre answered, mournful.

  "Which obviously hasn't happened yet," Kilig said. "Was he your first love?"

  Sabre stared at the water. "Yes," he whispered.