The Archer's Heart (19 page)

There was no delay in carrying out Yudar’s sentence. Citizens awaiting trial gathered around a large wooden platform to watch the execution. Most seemed eager for the diversion. Several women standing nearby already wept. Jandu guessed they were relatives of the condemned. One of the condemned men tried to wave to an older man who looked to be his father. A guard jerked the man’s hand down and led him onto the platform.

Bailiffs brought Yudar and Jandu ornate chairs to sit on. This time, Jandu took up the offer, unsure if his legs would hold him up. Soldiers surrounded them, keeping the growing crowd at bay.

A bailiff blindfolded the men and then led to the platform where they were forced to kneel before the chopping block. In Yudar’s Prasta, there was no grace period. The convicts had no chance to look at each other or say good-bye to their families. Such rights were revoked.

Jandu said nothing to his brother. He sat, still as stone, and stared at the two men, concentrating on not throwing up again. He said nothing as the crime of sodomy was publicly announced, along with their family names in order to disgrace their families throughout the kingdom.

His brother grimaced at the men and called them a “moral sickness.”

The executioner swung back his large blade and lopped off the head of one man, followed by the other. The second required two strokes.

Jandu walked stiffly towards their chariot. Yudar followed, concern plain upon his face.

“Jandu, do you feel all right? You’re completely pale.” Yudar put his hand against Jandu’s forehead, feeling for a temperature.

Jandu jerked his head away.

Jandu felt panic rise through his body like a fever, from his legs through to the tips of his fingers. He and Keshan could be executed like that, that quickly. Those men had families, loved ones who would never live long enough to escape the shame that the crime had brought upon them. That was him. Him and Keshan.

Jandu forced himself to speak. “I’m just sick, that’s all.”

“God, why didn’t you tell me this morning?”

“I thought I’d be fine.”

“I should never have taken you to the execution,” Yudar said, shaking his head. “It always turns my stomach, even now.”

“I’ll be fine,” Jandu said through gritted teeth. Though he knew that he wouldn’t. He couldn’t be. The call of sodomy above the crowd echoed in his ears. That was him. His brother would kill him, that easily. The circle of soldiers around him seemed sinister. The sound of the crowd cheering as the executioner held the two heads aloft, the screams of the old woman whose son lay dead, the impressions closed in around Jandu in a jumble of sick guilt.

“I’ve forgotten how shocking the executions are, especially when unprepared for one. I’ll call you a doctor,” Yudar said.

Jandu shook his head. “I just need to get out of this crowd, that’s all. I’ll return to the palace now, if it is all right with you.”

“Of course.” Yudar frowned. “I have to stay for the rest of the hearings, but I’ll see you at dinner this evening.” He watched Jandu with a look of pity.

Jandu numbly climbed into his chariot and told the charioteer to take him home. Prasta’s wide royal avenue lay before him, but Jandu could barely focus on anything.

I have to calm down.
Jandu tried to focus on what he wanted, what would make him feel better. Keshan came to his mind like a symbol of salvation.

I need him.
Jandu closed his eyes and covered his face with his hands. How could he now, minutes after seeing two men die for their love, be thinking of Keshan?

But there was a bitter truth, Jandu realized. Like it or not, Jandu needed Keshan. There was no longer any question who he was. At least that had been determined the night Keshan left the palace. And part of being Jandu meant being in love with a man rather than a woman.

The image of the executioner’s axe falling came again to his mind. Why had he just sat there and watched? Couldn’t he have said something to Yudar, asked for leniency for them? Was he that much of a coward?

The second Jandu thought he had his emotions under control, the reality of who he was would smack him in the face again, and panic would rise through his body, making it difficult to breathe. He was suffocating on his own self-realization. Once home, he ordered the servants out of his rooms, and locked the door to his bedroom. He sat on his bed until his shaking subsided, and then he took some deep breaths.

“I have to see him,” Jandu said aloud. He called one of his servants to ready a horse and bring a saddlebag.           

Jandu changed into clothes better suited for riding. He put on a dark cotton dejaru and a blue embroidered sash. He combed his hair down and pushed aside his bangs, which were long enough now to fall into his eyes. He removed his silver diadem and looked at himself in the mirror. He looked like a terrified version of himself. Where was Jandu the brave archer now?

“Jandu fucks men,” Jandu whispered to his reflection. He closed his eyes and fought back tears. He had to find Keshan. Keshan was the only one who could help him.

He slung Zandi and his quiver across his shoulders and packed clothing and gold coins into the saddlebag. Anxiety propelled him forward. He opened his door to leave and found Suraya standing there, hand raised as if to knock.

“The servants say you are ill.” Suraya looked at the bow and saddlebag. She raised an eyebrow. ”Is everything all right?”

“I have to get out of the city.” Jandu shouldered his way past her and started down the hall.

“Where are you going?” Suraya chased after him, her sandals clacking on the marble floor. “Jandu—wait!”

“I will be back in time to hear Mazar’s decision,” Jandu said.

“Tell me where you are going!” Suraya demanded, her voice rising in anger that Jandu had never heard her express before. She darted in front of him, arms out to block his way. The silver threads in her zahari flashed in the mid-morning light.

Jandu’s hold on his emotions was too tenuous to stay and chat. He tried to move past her but Suraya did not budge.

“Suraya, please.” He teetered between anger and tears. “You can’t help me.”

Suraya’s arms lowered. She searched his face, seeming to read for the first time his true emotion. “You’re going to Tiwari, aren’t you? To see Keshan.”

To Jandu’s horror, he felt his lip trembling. He didn’t trust himself to speak so he nodded.

“And you’ll be back before Mazar’s announcement?” she asked.

Jandu nodded again.

“All right.” Suraya sighed. “But if you aren’t back in one week I’ll personally drag you back to the palace myself. I am your wife, remember.”

The idea of skinny-armed Suraya overpowering him was so absurd that Jandu broke into a laugh. Suraya smiled back at him. He knelt down to touch her feet and she told him to stop being so stupid, embraced him and let him go.

Jandu mounted Shedav and rode though the city. Life burgeoned around him, thriving and noisy, the air thick with the smells of the market, the fragrance of late summer jasmine, the stench of the sewers and burning milk, but none of it touched him. He would not rest until he saw Keshan.

Once through the white sentinel walls of the city, and surrounded by recently harvested fields, Jandu finally calmed. He continued along the main road leading out of the city until he reached the crossroads. To the north, the road followed the Yaru River to Karuna. To the east, it rolled through endless wheat and corn fields to Jagu Mali. Jandu took neither of these. He urged his horse toward the road leading south, through the forests and into Tiwari.

Chapter 16

Tiwari was a day’s journey from Prasta, and so leaving as late as he had, Jandu had to pitch a tent halfway and wait until dawn to continue. After hours of nothing but dark, looming forestry, the main road hit the coastline and the world around Jandu exploded into lushness. The spiked yellow and scarlet clusters of sorrowless tree blooms blew across the roadway, mingling with purple silk blossoms and violet plums to turn the road into a spectacle of color, reds and whites and yellows, with the irresistible scent of roses mixing with the white stars of jasmine and wild vanilla.

The city of Tiwari was built high up on a bluff, whose jagged cliff edge dropped to a dangerous precipice and an even more dangerous shoreline, rugged with sharp rocks. At the entrance to the city, the sound of the crashing surf drowned out all other noises.

But a quieter sandy beach stretched to the south of the city, and beside it the city’s main market and most of its population lived. Jandu jumped from his horse and cupped his hand to scoop up star-shaped petals and the fading pink blossoms of a nearby clematis.

Along the street, a sturdy row of white-barked trees spun their whorled leaves like tops in the ocean breeze, their slender tips striking each other to mimic the sound of rainfall. It was as if Jandu had entered a botanical paradise. The salt in the air mingled with the scent of dozens of fragrant bushes in the private gardens, the scent of someone baking fish in a clay oven, and a street vendor frying bananas. Beautiful, painted cows wandered the streets brazenly, their udders round and low.

Jandu led his horse down the street in a daze. The sun beat down on his spiky black hair, and bronzed his skin. It was early morning and people had just begun to venture out into the streets. The Tiwari people shared Keshan’s light olive-colored skin, his slightly slanting eyes. There was a fierceness to their countenance that Jandu didn’t recognize in his own royal blood. Something about the Tiwaris seemed almost combustible. And yet they were the nicest, most welcoming strangers he had ever met. As he made his way up the main boulevard, individuals ran out to offer him a cool glass of water or to bring grain for his horse. Jandu didn’t know if it was just him, emanating a princely Triya demeanor with his fine horse and saddle, or if it was just the Tiwari way, but whatever it was, it made Keshan’s capital a welcoming city.

As Jandu approached the Adaru palace, he started to worry about surprising Keshan.

What if he found Keshan with another lover? Keshan did, after all, have a reputation. Was Jandu really to believe that Keshan loved him and him alone? As Jandu made his way along the wide main boulevard, he saw more proof of how ridiculous such an idea was. This was an entire city built on the love of Keshan. These people had moved across their state to build their homes against this ragged cliff as a testament to that love. Keshan had to be shared with everyone.

And their time in Prasta—it had been a month ago. Forever in the highly malleable state of romance, Keshan could have moved on. Maybe Jandu’s feelings were no longer reciprocated.

His stomach was in knots by the time he reached the palace entrance. Tiwari’s seat of power was carved directly into the cliff’s edge, with a long stone garden that doubled as a wall, stretching along the coast towards the center of the city. The palace jutted from the bluff like a challenge to the sea. Magnificent, lush flowers bloomed around the building softening its harsh red rocky face. Ivies intertwined across the vertical surface, covering every brick under a curtain of organic life. Giant palms shaded Jandu from the sun’s increasing heat, and coconut trees thick with fruit clustered at the main gate.

A soldier stopped him at the entrance, eyeing Zandi warily. “State your name and business.”

Jandu hadn’t bothered to wear his diadem. His head was sweaty and the cool salty breezes coming off the coast felt marvelous.

“I’m here to see Keshan Adaru. I’m his cousin,” he said.

Apparently, that answer was not good enough, for the soldier signaled behind him and several other soldiers emerged from a guardhouse.

“What is your name?” the soldier asked.

 “Jandu Paran, Prince of Marhavad.”

The soldier frowned at Jandu’s dirty sandals and his sun-tanned face.

“Lord Keshan is in the reception hall with Lord Iyestar, Prince,” he said warily. “Follow me.” The man nodded to another guard, who took the reins of Jandu’s horse. After removing his saddlebag and throwing it over his shoulder, Jandu followed the soldier into the main house and down a long wooden hall lined with colorful portraits of animals.

Tiwari’s main reception hall was a lot smaller than those in the Prasta palace, but it was opulent, with a gilded ceiling and glittering crystal along the sides, detailed murals painted on each wall, and a dramatic curving balcony that jutted from the side of the cliff and overlooked the frothing ocean below. Thick, overlapping carpets padded the floor. The room had two long rows of seats for visitors, leading up to the dais where Iyestar and his ministers sat. There were two petitioners in the room, talking quietly with a clerk in the corner.

Jandu peered behind the soldier and got his first good look at Keshan in a month. Keshan looked much more serious, he noticed. He leaned forward to speak with his brother, his hand resting on his hip, elbow thrust out in a domineering position. A golden yellow dejaru with embroidered trim clung to his long legs and a red sash emphasized his slim hips. Over his bare chest he wore a gold and red embroidered vest. Bands of beaten gold enclosed his tanned arms. Keshan’s gold diadem was small, but dramatic, set with numerous rubies.

Keshan spoke intently with Iyestar; his eyes were nowhere near the entrance. Jandu stared at Keshan’s face, at his dark hair, which had grown just past his ears, the beauty of his large brown eyes. As Keshan spoke, his lips moved slightly, full and round, and Jandu felt dizzy staring at him. His stomach somersaulted.

The soldier spoke to the attendant in the doorway in a voice so low Jandu couldn’t hear him. He turned abruptly and returned to his post at the front gate.

The herald nodded at Jandu. “Prince Jandu Paran?” he checked.

“Yes.”

The herald blared his trumpet, causing Keshan, Iyestar, the petitioners, and the ministers to turn and glance at the entrance in surprise. “Prince Jandu Paran!” the herald announced.

Jandu looked at Keshan anxiously.

All of Jandu’s worries disappeared the moment he saw how Keshan’s expression changed. It seemed like a weight lifted off of him, and a smile reached from ear to ear.

“Jandu!”

Keshan practically ran to Jandu. They met halfway along the hall. Keshan laughed. They embraced tightly, tears coming to Jandu’s eyes.

“This is a wonderful, wonderful surprise!” Keshan cried, hugging him again, not caring about the spectacle that they made in the middle of the room.

Keshan put his hand on the saddlebag slung over Jandu’s shoulder.

“Did you ride here alone?” he asked.

Jandu nodded.

“God, you must be tired.” Keshan put his arm around Jandu and led him up to Iyestar.

Keshan beamed a magnificent smile. “Brother, look who has traveled all this way to visit us at last!”

Jandu knelt to take the dust from Iyestar’s feet.

“Blessings to you, Lord Adaru,” Jandu said ceremoniously.

Iyestar snorted. “I don’t think you have to grovel to me, Jandu. You’re a prince, even if you are in my city.” Iyestar smiled. “Welcome. We are happy to have you.”

Jandu doubted the sentiment, given Iyestar’s close relations with Darvad, but he was too happy, touching Keshan, to care.

“Thank you for your hospitality.”

“Iyestar, I’m afraid I must take my leave of you,” Keshan said.

Iyestar nodded. “Once you’re settled, please take dinner with our family this evening, Jandu.”

“Thank you.” Jandu bowed once more. Keshan took Jandu’s arm and led him out of the room.

Outside of the reception hall, Keshan asked a servant to take Jandu’s saddlebag to the guest room adjacent Keshan’s own chambers. Then, without stopping, Keshan led Jandu through a long hallway, up a dramatic staircase, and along another corridor.

The view was phenomenal, overlooking the sea, the sound of the crashing waves shooting up the side of the cliff and straight into the room. Pelicans circled above Jandu’s head.

“Come on.” Keshan led Jandu up another flight of stairs that spiraled around a large statue of the Prophet Bandruban to the tower.

“Where are you taking me?” Jandu asked.

“To my room.” Keshan looked over his shoulder at Jandu. “I have a present for you.”

Jandu felt momentarily dizzy with that look.

“I think you’ll like it.” Keshan said.

“I’ve traveled all day to get here,” Jandu said. “I need a bath and a bed.”

“I’ve got the bed,” Keshan said.

“A bath would be nice,” Jandu smirked at Keshan.

“I’ll give you one,” Keshan whispered. They finally reached the top of the spiral staircase and Keshan pushed open the door.

Inside was the massive chamber that made up Keshan’s quarters. It had balconies on three sides, overlooking the land and the sea. The walls were half-open, letting a gentle, warm breeze pass through the room.

Jandu took in the details of Keshan’s private world. He saw Keshan’s desk in the corner, crowded with scrolls and writing utensils. There was a map of Marhavad, and Jandu could make out the corner of the last letter he wrote to Keshan, hiding under a blotter.

Jandu smiled to himself. He unstrung Zandi and propped her up in the corner, and shrugged off his quiver. He walked around the room, admiring the inlaid wooden floor, the fine paintings of horses and cattle on the walls, and the massive canopied bed. It, like all the furniture in the room, was made of dark cypress and emitted a fragrant scent.

A small hallway led to Keshan’s private bathroom, and across from that was a small rooftop garden he called his own, filled with lemon and juniper trees.

Jandu looked at the large marble bath and sighed contentedly.

“Shall I call servants to fill the bath for you?” Keshan asked.

Jandu smiled. “Well, now that I have you alone I want to-”

Keshan pushed Jandu against the wall and kissed him. Jandu savored the sweetness, the coconut earthy saltiness of Keshan’s skin, the roughness of his cheeks, the softness of his lips. Keshan thrust his tongue deep into Jandu’s mouth. Jandu kissed him back with equal fervor, and then pulled away and smiled.

“I guess you missed me, then,” Jandu said.

Keshan laughed. “Missed you? All I think about is you. It’s torture.”

“Tell me about it,” Jandu said.

 “It’s been the same for you?”

“No, tell me about it,” Jandu said, grinning. “I love hearing about me.”

Keshan shook his head. “You’re the worst.” He leaned in to nuzzle Jandu’s neck. “I missed you so much that my dick got hard just reading that letter from you. I missed you so much that I wished I’d made a bronze mold of your cock so that I could—”

“—on second thought, talk later.” Jandu grabbed Keshan’s shoulders and pushed Keshan against the wall. He stifled Keshan’s cry of surprise with a penetrating kiss. He didn’t stop until he felt Keshan writhe against him, his hips involuntarily thrusting out for more contact.

Jandu didn’t think when he kissed Keshan. He could only feel. And this was what he needed, after the terrible day before, full of self-awareness and introspection. Jandu needed to forget his brother, his own crime. He needed only this, a focus of his desires, and this realization made him grip Keshan even harder, slow and deepen his kiss, hoping to direct all his energy to Keshan’s beautiful body.

When Jandu broke the kiss, Keshan stayed frozen, a delightful smile on his face, his eyes closed in pleasure. Jandu pulled down Keshan’s dejaru. He knelt, staring for a moment at Keshan’s cock, erect and pulsing with the need to be tended.

Jandu grasped Keshan’s hardness, which was firm and warm in his hand, glistening at the tip. Jandu ran his tongue along its shaft, luxuriating in the musky taste of him. He tenderly bit the loose skin at the base of Keshan’s scrotum and Keshan cried out loudly, shocking Jandu enough to make him freeze.

“Shouldn’t we be quiet?” Jandu whispered.

“Not in my own house.” Keshan pushed his hips closer to Jandu.

Jandu filled himself with Keshan. Keshan breathed out and closed his eyes once more, leaning his head back against the wall.

“Jandu…” Keshan tried to touch Jandu but Jandu pushed him back against the wall hard, forcing Keshan to stay where he was.

Keshan moaned in ecstasy. “Please…”

Jandu’s mind blanked of everything but the feeling of Keshan in his throat, the taste of him on his lips. He kept his eyes open, working harder and faster until he could feel Keshan begin to shake, until he knew he was about to come. Then he let Keshan go. Keshan’s eyes shot open in disappointment.

Jandu pulled Keshan to the bed. Keshan watched as Jandu removed his clothing and lay down.        

Keshan straddled Jandu and kissed him deeply. That familiar feeling of drunken warmth coursed through Jandu’s blood, causing every touch from Keshan to make him break out in a sweat of desire.

Keshan leaned down and licked at Jandu’s nipples, playing with them using his teeth. Jandu sucked in air at the sweet pain of it.

“Keshan…” Jandu’s body vibrated with pleasure.

Keshan spread Jandu’s legs apart and laved Jandu’s testicles with his hot tongue. Jandu lay speechless, stunned with the feeling, his body shivering.

Suddenly Keshan stopped his ministrations and reached over to pull a small glass jar from the bedside table.

“What is that?” Jandu asked.

“Rose oil. Use it.” Keshan collapsed onto the bed, grinning proudly.

Jandu sank his fingers into the oil and let its coolness grease his fingers. He circled Keshan in his arms. He reached around and inserted one finger inside of Keshan, capturing Keshan’s hiss of pleasure with another kiss. Keshan bit gently at Jandu’s lower lip in response.

Jandu was so aroused his vision blurred. He prepared Keshan with two fingers now, slowly at first, and then slightly faster and deeper.