Kilig the Sword

by Barbara G. Tarn

  "Why are you here, then?" Khopesh asked, puzzled.

  "Where is Nikhil? I mean, Chakram. He killed one of my friends. I need to tell him what I think of his... skills." Sunil spat the words out with contempt.

  Khopesh raised his eyebrows.

  "How do you know it was him?"

  "Nimcha told me. Where is he?"

  Khopesh chuckled. "He's not here, Sunil. He went with Shamsher to help him get his revenge. He's all set on getting Godwalkar's Guild with his beloved."

  Sunil gritted his teeth. Damn Nikhil. He'd have to run after him.

  His father turned serious again.

  "No, you don't go after him now," he warned, pointing a finger at him. "I know about sibling rivalry, Sunil. I killed my elder brother to become Head of the Guild in Agharek. So here's what you're going to do. You go back to the monastery and finish your training."

  "But Father..."

  "Shut up! When you're done, you come back here, reveal the monks' secret and I'll give you your assignment so you can earn your assassin's name. Then you're free to go after Chakram if you feel so inclined. Or Nimcha, or Shamsher. The world will be yours for the taking. When your training is complete. Not before. You hear me?"

  "Yes, Father," Sunil grumbled, hanging his head.

  "Sunil, revenge can take years, sometimes a lifetime. But it tastes better if you don't do it while you're still upset for the loss."

  Sunil felt a lump in his throat at the thought of Girish. He nodded, unable to speak.

  "Who was the friend Chakram got rid of?" Khopesh asked.

  "Girish de Sayek," he whispered as tears came to his eyes.

  "Ah, yes, the bastard son of Lord de Sayek. His father had to send him to the monastery because his wife refused to have a private teacher at the palace for Girish." Khopesh scoffed. "Lady Chitra was dead jealous, but how could she hope to compare to Maya the Belly-dancer? You remember Maya, Sunil?"

  "Yes." Another whisper. So his father had always known Girish was an illegitimate son. Of course, assassins knew everything – especially about the noble families who were their main customers.

  "So, how was the boy? Was he in your classroom? No, he's older, but you got to know him anyway?"

  "Yes, he was the only student not sleeping in a dorm."

  "Of course, his father paid for the privilege of a single room. But when Girish was kicked out for screwing other students between those sacred walls," Khopesh's tone was sarcastic now, "and went straight to his mother's instead of going back to palace de Sayek, his lordship decided that enough is enough. The little bastard was a rebel who could only bring shame to the family, so he finally got rid of him."

  Sunil wanted to punch his father who was repeating almost the same things as Nimcha. What did they know about Girish anyway. They'd never met him, they had no idea of his talent, of his sweetness. He was just another head in the book, another jingling purse in their coffers. Not a wonderful person that would be missed.

  "His mother's death was a waste," Khopesh continued. "But Lady Chitra said 'both or nothing' and Lord de Sayek complied. He was probably sick of arguing with her."

  Sunil opened and closed his fists, but kept his mouth tightly shut and his eyes on his feet. He'd never hated his family as much as he did right now.

  "Sunil, you shouldn't blame Chakram for your friend's death," his father concluded. "If you want revenge, it's Lord de Sayek you must blame."

  "Yes, Father," Sunil said through gritted teeth. But he wasn't going to blame Girish's father. It was Chakram's noose that had ended Girish's life and Chakram would pay. In due time.

  ***

  Before being handed the indigo vestment of the sixth year, Sunil had a talk with the abbot. He'd barely stayed one night in the camp, so he'd managed to get back to Agharek one day earlier.

  He'd gone straight back to the monastery and the still empty dormitory, and then knocked on the abbot's office door.

  "Welcome back, Sunil." The abbot looked surprised to see him in one day earlier. It was common that students came back up to three days late, but in advance was probably unheard of. "Did you have a good break?"

  "Yes and no," he answered with a frown. "Will I be tested to see if I can go to the next level?"

  "Do you feel the need to be tested?" Bhai Sundar replied. "I know last year was hard for you, and a two weeks break isn't very long, but did you manage to clear your mind?"

  Sunil smiled ruefully. "My father won't let me quit anyway," he said. "So I might as well get done as soon as possible."

  "Sit down." The abbot pointed at a stool in front of his desk. He used it for long, private conversations with his students, but this time Sunil obeyed with a sigh. He didn't think there was much to say.

  "Sunil, why did you go back to your father?" the abbot asked, serious. "I believe it's the first time since you joined us."

  "Yes." Sunil stared at his hands in his lap – those hands that still wanted to squeeze the life out of Nikhil's throat. "Girish was killed by my half-brother and I wanted to avenge him."

  Bhai Sundar held his breath, but said nothing.

  "Except Nikhil was not at the camp anymore, he's gone north with his lover and my father forbade me to go after him," Sunil continued. "So I'm back, because I was ordered to and I didn't take a life like I intended to."

  The abbot exhaled. "But you intend to take Nikhil's life when you finish your studies?"

  "I don't know." Sunil sulked. "My father says revenge tastes better if served cold. But time heals so many things... maybe when I'm done here, the loss of Girish won't hurt as much."

  "Probably not," Bhai Sundar said. "I will help you to get over it and forgive the hand who offed him. You are not an assassin at heart, Sunil, that much I've figured out about you, and that's why you're still here. I want you to succeed and bring some compassion to your heartless family. If you promise to work as hard as you can this year, I'll let you continue with your classmates."

  Sunil looked at the abbot's face. His heart opened to hope, he could see the light at the end of the darkness.

  "I will, Bhai Sundar! With your help and Bhai Muskurana's..."

  "Bhai Muskurana will join us in a couple of months," the abbot said. "He has been called on duty for an emergency near Akulina." He sighed. "I will be your training teacher until he comes back."

  Sunil gaped at Bhai Sundar. His favorite teacher was on a war mission? What if he didn't come back? Would he lose another person he trusted more than anyone in his family?

  The abbot smiled. "Don't worry, Sunil. He's our best man, and he's done this before. He will come back."

  Sunil gulped and nodded.

  "Is there anything else you'd like to talk about? How is your friendship with Bishma going? Does Tushar still bother you?"

  "Tushar doesn't dare touch me – unless he gangs up on me with his friends, I'm fine," Sunil answered, lowering his eyes. "I miss Girish. Bishma is my best friend, but... I miss what I had with Girish. The intimacy, the cuddles... It will never be the same again."

  "You will fall in love again, Sunil," the abbot promised. "The pain of the heart hurts more than the physical bruises, is slower to heal, but it does go away."

  ***

  The new school year saw Sunil very quiet and secluded. He ignored provocations, and barely went out with Bishma or visited his family. Bishma and Rohini's happiness got on his nerves now that he'd lost his beloved, and he could never bring himself to tell them about Girish. He didn't think they'd understand him, even if they cared for him.

  Since going to the temple still hurt, Sunil found refuge in the monastery library and started reading everything. Manuals, books of laws, history tomes, epic stories and legends, any written expression of Human knowledge or creativity he could find to keep his mind busy and away from the thought of Girish.

  There were grimoires and religious texts as well, but he couldn't find anything about the seal of Zindagi. One tome said that only the abbot knew the spell, and the monks only learned
how to activate it with a simple sentence, "Tum zinda ho."

  Sunil wondered what happened if the abbot was killed before choosing his successor. Would the spell be lost? But then, it had been passed on for two centuries already, therefore it was an unlikely occurrence.

  Besides, the seal wasn't really a lethal weapon, so the loss of it wouldn't mean much except for the monks themselves, who by now were such good fighters, they didn't really need to mark the bad guys with the seal of the goddess.

  Sunil wanted to ask Bhai Sundar when was the last time the seal was used – he doubted they knew about his father's shame – then thought he might as well ask Bhai Muskurana when he came back from the field.

  He had turned seventeen when the muscled monk came back with his squadron of fighters and resumed training his class. Sunil had worked hard under the abbot's supervision, and by the time Bhai Muskurana brought his smile back to the monastery, he could take on two classmates at the same time – which impressed even his favorite teacher.

  "Maybe I should let Bhai Sundar finish your training," Bhai Muskurana told him cheerfully. "I'm glad you recovered from last year's tragedy."

  "Meaning?" Sunil asked, a little puzzled.

  "I know how close you and Girish were," the monk answered. "I'm sure his untimely death affected you more than anyone else."

  Sunil took in a deep breath and nodded. There was no denying that.

  "I'm glad you've come back from your mission," he said. "Did you use the seal of the goddess?"

  Startled, Bhai Muskurana stared at him, then called the rest of the class closer. They huddled in a corner of the courtyard to listen to what he had to say.

  "As you know, I've been sent to fight the Lords of War to protect a nomad tribe down on the southern coast. Sunil asked me if I used the seal of the goddess – a very rightful question I believe deserves a public answer, since you're now in the sixth year of your training."

  He looked at everyone, but lingered longer on Sunil, who nodded, waiting for the answer.

  "No, I didn't use the seal of the goddess. And I had to kill in Zindagi's name. To protect life, you sometimes need to take the lives of undeserving human beings who enjoy taking advantage of others."

  Sunil nodded, thoughtful. It made sense. Bhai Muskurana had been sent to battle, not to bring justice like someone did centuries ago. And killing in battle was different from killing in cold blood and for money like the assassins did.

  "When will we use the seal, then?" Bishma asked, as curious as everybody else.

  "When you need to warn someone," Bhai Muskurana answered. "For example, you see an abusive father or husband. You try to stop him with words, and if he doesn't listen, you can mark him on his body, so he'll be able to hide the mark under his clothes."

  "The second warning goes on the forehead," Sunil recited from a text he'd read. "The offender is then marked for all to see. This is usually enough to deter him from further wrongdoing."

  Bhai Muskurana nodded, impressed. "You've spent a lot of time in the library, have you?" he asked with a smile.

  Sunil nodded, averting his eyes.

  "Yes, those are the rules," Bhai Muskurana told the others. "You shouldn't have heard about them until the final year, but it's not secret knowledge and since Sunil raised the question, I thought I'd answer now. I'm sure you're all curious to hear what happens when the abbot sends us on a rescue mission, so the rest of this lesson is for your questions." Tushar raised his hand. "Yes, Tushar?"

  "How many people did you have to kill?"

  Sunil glared at Tushar who wasn't looking at him, so he didn't notice.

  "Since words weren't enough and we ended up on a real battlefield, I'm not sure I kept count of the lost lives," Bhai Muskurana answered mournfully. "I spent a whole month in prayer to atone and purify myself afterward."

  "So you actually came back a month ago?" Bishma asked.

  "Yes, but I was locked in my room and had Bhai Hansna bringing me a meal once a day. He did this for all of us who were in the rescue team."

  "It sounds like a punishment to me," Tushar commented, sarcastic. "Did you fail the mission or what?"

  "No, we were successful, but we had to kill, so we atoned."

  Sunil wanted to know what it felt like – killing someone – but didn't want a public answer. He'd have to talk to Bhai Muskurana away from the class.

  ***

  When Sunil knocked on Bhai Muskurana's door, his heart thumped in his chest. It wasn't forbidden to ask for private talks with the teachers, but Sunil didn't want only that.

  One year had passed since Girish's death and he was getting out of his inner numbness thanks to his favorite teacher. He knew he wasn't supposed to have sex within the monastery walls and really wanted to know how Bhai Muskurana did it. Was he really completely chaste or did he go out and visit a special friend from time to time? And what happened on missions, when the adrenaline ran wild during fights?

  Sunil didn't want public answers to that. He also wanted to see the monk's body completely naked – and witness the absolute control Bhai Muskurana must have over it. Sunil's sexual urges were back and he couldn't figure out how someone could live without sex.

  Bhai Muskurana looked surprised to see him since it was the day off and all the students were out – partying and fornicating away from the monastery – but let him in. The spartan room was like Girish's except for a tapestry hung on a wall. Bhai Muskurana was a permanent resident of the monastery and had probably felt the need to personalize his room. The tapestry depicted Zindagi in all her glory, blessing a man and a woman surrounded by animals – a camel, a jackal, an eagle, a goat, and a dove flying overhead – and looked brand new.

  "A gift from my sister," Bhai Muskurana explained, following Sunil's gaze.

  Sunil nodded, serious. He wished Rohini could embroider too. But the only gift he'd ever get from her would be a new weapon – either a dagger or a brass wheel.

  "What can I do for you, Sunil?" Bhai Muskurana asked. His brown vestment was neatly folded on the chest for clothes and shoes, and his bare muscled arms were as impressive as ever.

  Sunil took in a deep breath, trying to concentrate on the monk's face, ignoring the gorgeous body.

  "I have questions I don't want to make public," he said. "Please, don't let anything of what I'll say out of this room. Don't tell the abbot or anyone else, all right?"

  Bhai Muskurana nodded, a little puzzled.

  "My father has the seal of the goddess on his body. Bhai Sundar told me only one other assassin ever graduated from this monastery, and I assume it's the one who marked my father. I don't know why he did it and I think he's dead by now, so I'd like you to help me understand."

  "How can I help you?" the monk asked. "I've heard of the assassin, but I never met him. He was long gone when I joined."

  "But you told us Zindagi condones death if it's given to an undeserving or in the heat of a battle. Do you think that man warned my father about something evil he was doing – and then left so he wouldn't have to kill my father?"

  "Possibly. Do you think your father doesn't deserve to live? Is this what you're wondering about?"

  "No, I know he's not a good man and one day someone will kill him. I'm trying to understand the other man's behavior, because he was an assassin, like me, and somehow brought the seal of Zindagi into the Assassins' Guild. How was that possible?"

  Bhai Muskurana sighed and sat on his cot. "I have no idea, Sunil. Like I said, I never met him. You should ask Bhai Sundar."

  Sunil chewed his lower lip, staring at the gorgeous man now towering over him less since he was seated.

  "Bhai Muskurana, do you really keep your chastity vow?" There, he'd said it.

  The monk smiled before looking at him. "So that's the real question bothering you. Yes, I've been celibate for ten years now."

  "But how can you resist?" Sunil blurted out. "Don't you miss a lover's touch?"

  Bhai Muskurana winced. "Sometimes. But you can learn to control
your urges. I mean, I'm not seventeen anymore, but I know what you're going through. It will pass. Time is the greatest healer."

  Without thinking, Sunil sat next to him.

  "Did you have lovers when you were a student here?" he asked, breathing in the monk's manly scent. It was more intoxicating than Girish's. Maybe he'd been alone for too long.

  "Yes. Outside of the monastery." Bhai Muskurana smiled at him and he blushed. All the monks probably knew of him and Girish even before Tushar denounced them. "And I had my heart broken as well, even if my beloved is still alive today. And I tried to cry on my teacher's shoulder, like you're doing right now." He touched Sunil's nose – like a father with a small child.

  Sunil jerked away, jarred. "W-who was your teacher?" he managed to ask, feeling his cheeks on fire.

  "Nothing is going out of this room right?" Bhai Muskurana asked. Sunil shook his head with a gulp. "Bhai Sundar," the monk whispered with a grin.

  The abbot! Sunil's eyes widened in shock.

  "He wasn't abbot yet," Bhai Muskurana added with a shrug. "And he was my favorite teacher. So I tried to get in his pants."

  "And he didn't let you." Sunil's voice was strangled. "And he lectured you on controlling your body urges."

  "Yes." Bhai Muskurana nodded with an amused smile. "And that's why I'll never be an abbot. I'm not as good as him with words. So I won't lecture you. Forget about seeing me naked, and don't worry. This too will pass."

  Sunil gulped his shame and desire, staring desperately at the handsome monk. He grabbed Bhai Muskurana's head with both hands, quickly tasted his lips, then ran away to hide in a corner of the temple.

  5.

  Bishma didn't come back to the monastery to start the seventh year. Sunil went to the abbot and told him his best friend had eloped with his sister Rohini because they were in love, but their families didn't want them to marry.