Saif's Story

by Barbara G. Tarn

  Saif's Story

  by Barbara G. Tarn

  ***

  Barbara G.Tarn copyright © 2017

  Cover art by Rossana Beretta

  electronic edition by Unicorn Productions

  June 2017

  ***

  Table of Contents

  Copyright Page

  1.

  2.

  3.

  4.

  5.

  6.

  7.

  8.

  9.

  10.

  11.

  12.

  13.

  14.

  15.

  16.

  Author's Note

  About the Author

  Further Reading: Saif & Kilig

  Also By Barbara G.Tarn

  1.

  Rohit stirred and slowly awoke. The raw earth under him made him uncomfortable. A pebble must have sunk into his skin, so he rolled towards Aditya's warm body. His best friend must be fast asleep, since he didn't squirm in his embrace.

  Rohit sighed and opened his eyes to the bleak, dilapidated room with not door and no furniture that gave them some form of shelter from the weather. It was good enough for summer nights, but winter was fast approaching and they had to find some other place.

  Rohit sat and shook Aditya awake before yawning and stretching his arms. He settled his open, sleeveless top on his shoulders and brushed the floor dust off his arms and legs.

  "Gods, we stink," he muttered wiggling his toes as Aditya groaned. He stood and rewrapped his dirty loincloth around his lower parts. "Let's get to the Safed before knocking on Bhai Brahmachari's door."

  Aditya sighed but nodded. Only a monk would bother giving free food to two raggedy people like them – eighteen-year-old slum dwellers who had no job and no means of sustenance. But between begging and picking pockets they had made it to another day.

  They left the crumbling one-room brick house and headed for the river shore. The humble households around the dirty street were just waking up and smells of cooked food started wafting in the cool morning air, making their stomachs grumble.

  The dusty street lined by mud huts led them to the river shore, but the two teens avoided the fishermen's piers and headed for their favorite spot behind an old shrine of gray stone.

  Rohit dived in the water and took off his top and loincloth while standing on the muddy floor with water to his waist. He washed his clothes noticing new rips in the fabric. He'd have to beg Lalima's mother for more fabric.

  Rohit didn't want to be a street boy for the rest of his life. But then, even people born in palaces ended up in slums, like his friend Lalima, so...

  He scratched the stubble on his face, but there wasn't much he could do about it. He didn't own a razor and both he and Aditya would have to wait until the day of blessings to get a free shave. Thank the gods for that tradition that ordered men to shave their faces in order to be allowed inside certain temples.

  Not that Rohit cared about gods or goddesses. They hadn't done anything for him and his broken family, or for Aditya. They had allowed the death of Lalima's father, putting her mother in a very awkward situation as well.

  No, there were no gods in Godwalkar. A just king had been killed because he refused to obey his mother and council. There was no justice for the poor and the capital was a mess.

  And then there were the Genn. The androgynous beings, members of a Magical Race, had real magic and were trying to help Humans overcome the difficulties of the falling kingdom. Rohit had talked to them, and they said Human gods didn't exist, but there were some immortal beings who took care of them.

  Rohit was still not much of a believer but he took what he could when he could. He put his rags back on and immersed himself one last time, eyes closed, feeling the water caressing his body.

  "Let's go," Aditya said when he emerged, heading back for the shore.

  They wrung their clothes and shook their heads to dry their hair. The sun would soon take care of it, but for now Rohit had to push his dark hair away from his face with his hands.

  He followed Aditya back to the dusty streets, admiring his friend's bronze muscled arms. Maybe they could wrestle a little after they filled their stomachs. But first, food!

  They turned in the street where the monastery stood. On their right there was a small temple and a peasant's cemetery, since they were now on the outskirts of town. Once upon a time the monastery must have been in open countryside, but the city of Godwalkar was still expanding. On the left, the two-story rectangular building was now part of the city landscape.

  There were a few square windows on the upper floor, but none on the lower one, so the facade looked like a stretched-out face with four eyes, the main door at the center being the mouth. The arched entrance was ajar because the old wooden panels didn't fit together anymore. There was nothing to steal inside anyway – as Rohit and Aditya had discovered a couple of years earlier when they'd discovered the place – so the last monk didn't bother closing it anymore.

  Aditya pushed the left panel inward and they left the sunny street to enter the cool shadows of the monastery. Inside, the paved floor was cool under their feet. Rohit made sure to push back closed the door so they wouldn't be disturbed.

  The old monk didn't have much means, but people still brought him alms in the form of food that he didn't really eat, so he was glad to share it with the two street boys. Aditya thought the monk was a crazy old man, but Rohit saw sparkles of great wisdom in his rambles. He didn't believe in the monk's god, but respected his age and experience.

  "Bhai Brahmachari!" Aditya called, knocking on the small door to the right of the entrance.

  Once upon a time used by the doorkeeper, the small room behind it hosted the last monk. Beyond the entrance, the courtyard had become a lush, untended garden that blocked the way to the upper floor. The stone building still stood tall after a couple of centuries, but the wooden parts – like doors, shutters and furniture – were falling apart.

  The little side room was dark since it had only one small window opening on the courtyard that sent in only a faint ray of greenish light, but Rohit and Aditya knew where to look. The monk lay on his mat, a bundle of fabric and bones on the opposite side of the window. The light only showed part of his body that looked asleep. Next to the door were the offerings – bowls of vegetables or loaves of bread – and there wasn't anything else in the room.

  "Bhai Brahmachari," Rohit called again, frowning, since the old man hadn't moved.

  Aditya grabbed a bowl of rice and cucumbers and started wolfing it down with a flatbread, but Rohit went to kneel next to the old man.

  Getting closer, he could see the brown bald head, thin arm and peaceful, toothless smile. Rohit gasped and tentatively shook the old monk.

  "Adi..." His voice shook. "I think he's dead."

  Aditya stopped eating and came closer. He gently kicked the old man, then snorted.

  "Yes. As dead as he can be. But if we tell, the offerings will stop coming."

  Rohit stepped away from the monk and grabbed a flatbread only to keep staring wide-eyed at Bhai Brahmachari. The man had had a good life and died peacefully in his sleep. He was the last of his order. Who would keep the monastery in shape?

  "We could move in here," Aditya said, still munching greedily. "He was old, Rohit, what did you expect?"

  "I hoped he would last a little longer." Rohit nibbled his flatbread and frowned in concentration. "Do you think this could be repaired and transformed into a school?"

  Aditya stopped chewing and stared at him, puzzled.

  "What for?" he asked, his mouth full. Rohit shrugged.

  "Talwar could teach us his trade."

  "He's an assassin! The Genn would never let us!
"

  "He's friends with Nightsun. I think he can pull it off." Rohit nodded to himself, determined, and quickly finished the flatbread. "I'm going to ask him."

  Aditya put down the empty bowl, chuckling.

  "My my, Rohit, you're too fond of that man!"

  "Because he has a noble heart, he's righteous and strong and..."

  "Darn gorgeous, Rohit, you can't fool me. I know you also like him in a very physical way."

  Rohit felt his cheeks on fire and glared at his best friend. Aditya knew him too well. He tried to wipe away his friend's grin with a friendly punch to Aditya's shoulder, but failed.

  "Eat another flatbread and we'll go get Talwar," Aditya said, squeezing his shoulder.

  ***

  The assassin had arrived a year earlier from Agharek with his wife. Rohit wasn't sure how Talwar and Khanda had reached Godwalkar, but apparently someone had put in a good word for them with the Genn who had taken them in.

  The couple considered themselves refugees, having run away from their hometown, and they had made it clear that they didn't want to kill anyone. Still, their weapon names and their hometown had convinced the noblemen they could hire them for their petty struggles. Rohit knew Talwar and Khanda had refused all the job offers so far, denying their skills, but they were indeed trained assassins.

  Talwar was in charge of security in the Genn suburb, but many members of the court contacted him every day to get rid of rivals in the succession struggle after the murder of King Naveen. Even though Talwar had refused to use his skills to kill in cold blood, Rohit still hoped the handsome man would agree to train him.

  Rohit's heart pounded when he stepped into the inner courtyard of the condominium – a former monastery turned into small family apartments – where Talwar lived. It was late morning by then and most women of the community were in the shared spaces downstairs – kitchen, well, warehouse – chattering. Rohit scanned faces, looking for Khanda, especially among the women seated around the central oak with toddlers in their laps.

  And then fifteen-year-old Lalima filled his field of vision.

  "Hello, Rohit, I'm here!" she said cheerfully. Long raven hair and hazel eyes, she smiled at him as if he were the only one. Rohit suspected she had developed a crush on him, and didn't know what to do about it.

  He'd grown up with Aditya next door, but Lalima had joined them quite early. Rohit had no idea how Lalima had managed to squeeze herself between him and Aditya – being a girl and everything – but now he took her for granted and considered her a younger sister.

  "Have you seen Khanda?" he asked, frowning with worry. "I mean Talwar, I want to talk to Talwar."

  Lalima's face fell and her shoulders slumped.

  "What do you want with Talwar? He's busy."

  "We need to talk to him," Aditya said. "There's a building he might be interested in."

  "I don't think he or Khanda want to move again," Lalima said, wrinkling her nose.

  "It needs some work and we can help," Rohit snapped. "Maybe she doesn't need to move there anyway."

  He knew Talwar's wife had a stillborn baby and was still trying to have more. Rohit didn't think women should be trained as assassins, so Khanda probably had no place in the school anyway. And it would keep Lalima off his back for a while.

  "He's upstairs, at home," Lalima said defiantly, her hands on her hips.

  "Thank you." Rohit tried to go past her, but she wouldn't move. "What?"

  "Don't you think I deserve a reward?" she asked.

  "Why? For telling me Talwar is at home?" He rolled his eyes. "I would have found out anyway!" Her pout made him smile. "Fine." He leaned forward and gave her a peck on the cheek, then gently moved her aside. "Thank you," he repeated before heading for the staircase to the upper floor, where there were smaller apartments for couples.

  Aditya followed him with a chuckle. Rohit tried to tame his dark curls and wished he could have shaved that stubble off his face before talking to Talwar, but then maybe the school would allow him to dress and look better when he was done.

  They knocked on Talwar's door and Rohit gulped when the tall, handsome man opened. He wore an embroidered tunic with a silken sash and puffy pants, which made him look like a prince.

  "Uh, Talwar, Bhai Brahmachari is dead, would you like to set up the school in the abandoned monastery?" His cheeks burned under the man's puzzled stare.

  "Who is Bhai Brahmachari and what are you talking about?" Talwar asked.

  Aditya elbowed him as he stuttered another explanation, so he shut up and let his friend talk.

  "We've been keeping company with an old monk who shared his food with us," Aditya explained. "We found him dead this morning. The monastery will fall into complete disrepair if someone doesn't step in, and we thought you could teach us street boys to defend ourselves."

  Rohit nodded eagerly, swallowing the lump in his throat.

  "I think we should ask Nightsun about the ownership," Talwar said, thoughtful. "If it's close enough, we could set up a school for slum children and street boys and girls."

  Rohit didn't want to learn to read and write, but looked forward to spending more time with Talwar. And he hoped they could convince him to open an assassins' school, not just a school for the poor and destitute.

  The man turned to look inside the small apartment to make sure his wife would be all right, then they headed for Nightsun's apartment downstairs.

  Three-year-old Chandra opened the door before her mother, Princess Nadira, grabbed her with her free hand, holding her newborn in her arm.

  "Hello Talwar, boys! Nightsun is at the university library," she said cheerfully.

  "Thank you, Nadira, please keep an eye on Khanda for me," Talwar said with a curt bow.

  Rohit's bow allowed him to have a glimpse at Talwar's embroidered slippers standing next to his dusty feet.

  All three headed out for the university. Talwar walked one step ahead, lost in thought, and Rohit couldn't help noticing how his muscles moved under his clothes.

  He had stopped cutting his hair when Talwar had arrived because he liked the man's shoulder-length straight mane. Pity his own tended to curl up and be unruly. Aditya tamed his hair into a man's bun, but he just let it down, which probably didn't look too good, but he didn't care.

  The dusty streets turned into cobbled streets up to the university building, another former monastery even bigger than the one Bhai Brahmachari had lived and died in. The university compound was becoming a city inside the city, and Rohit didn't like to go there often because students and teachers weren't worth robbing or pick-pocketing anyway. In fact, Talwar seemed to know the way to the library better than him and Aditya.

  Rohit almost choked on the dusty smell of the library. In spite of the high ceilings and white magic lights, it felt stuffy to him. The marble floor was cold under his feet and sent a shiver through him.

  The huge chamber and its rows of shelves was totally unfamiliar territory and he warily followed Talwar inside. All that knowledge was too much to take in, he'd be content with just learning weapons.

  Nightsun was in one of the narrow corridors between shelves, standing by the tall ogive window with a small book in his hands. Rohit and Aditya stopped near the table and watched Talwar's whispered conversation with the Genn.

  Rohit liked Nightsun. The being's androgynous beauty didn't appeal to him, but the Genn's wisdom amazed him. He knew Nightsun was a magic user and the waist-long golden mane and pointed ears filled Rohit's idea of a magical being.

  Nightsun had told him when he'd first met him that he had "Genn-green eyes" which had been confirmed by Aditya and Lalima, but he'd felt the need to ask what it meant. Nightsun had showed him an emerald and said it matched his eye-color.

  Nobody had ever told Rohit if he was beautiful or not except a rich nobleman who had made him feel things that had left him pondering. Aditya had scolded him for selling his body to a man, but he hadn't minded and Lord Arfan had remained his only "customer" – although
Rohit preferred thinking of him as a lover.

  Now, if only Talwar did the same... Rohit sighed as Talwar came back towards them with a satisfied smile.

  "Please take me to the building, boys, we might be able to do something with it."

  Rohit brightened and eagerly led Talwar away from the dusty library.

  2.

  Talwar bowed his head and closed his eyes at the sight of Bhai Brahmachari's body. Rohit wondered what god he was praying to. He wasn't sure which gods were worshiped in Agharek or if assassins prayed to any god – well, Talwar obviously did.

  Talwar was still a mystery to him after a year because he was too shy to address someone who was clearly noble born or at least from a wealthy family. Talwar wasn't much older than he was, but he came from another world he couldn't even begin to imagine.

  Rohit had grown up in the slums of Godwalkar and never went very far from them. He might know the city quite well by now, but had never been outside of it. He was in awe of someone who had traveled for months, crossed a desert, sailed the sea and reached Godwalkar with the help of a member of the Magical Races – although that part wasn't very clear. But again, Rohit didn't dare ask.

  Talwar sighed and turned to look at them.

  "What is the custom, here? Should we build a funeral pyre or bury him? I saw the memorial stones out there, so I assume you have different rites for the departed?"

  Rohit choked under his kind eyes, so Aditya stepped in.

  "That's a peasants' cemetery," he said, thoughtful. "They like to stay close to the earth they worked all their lives. I don't know what monks would do. In the slums, we burn corpses to get rid of them."

  Talwar nodded, thoughtful. "How did they dispose of King Naveen's body?"

  "There is a royal mausoleum in the palace gardens," Rohit answered.

  "But we were never allowed to sneak in," Aditya added.

  "Lalima's father was burned, though," Rohit said, frowning in concentration. "And Lalima's mother was supposed to jump into the fire."

  "But she didn't and fell from grace." Aditya nodded. "Good for us, since we got to meet Lalima and Deepika."