The Archer's Heart (22 page)

Yudar only lost a few wagers toward the end, but he won the overall game. The spectators cheered him on. Jandu saw courtiers whose own fortunes hung in the balance of this new, precarious friendship watching the game closely. When Darvad asked Yudar for another round, and a chance to win back his horse and his rubies, Yudar agreed.

“Let’s stop while we’re ahead,” Jandu whispered. He did not like Firdaus’ flickering fingers, even if they hadn’t helped Darvad win.

“We’re just getting started,” Yudar replied, smiling calmly. He put the dice in Jandu’s hand. “May the prophets continue to bring good fortune to your hand!”

This second round, Yudar did worse. He soon lost his prizes from Darvad, as well as his own collection of precious onyx statues of the prophets. He lost their family’s cloisonné pottery, their formal saddles, their silver and diamond-studded bridles, their chariots.

Each roll, Yudar did not hesitate to up the stakes. He won back the chariots and Darvad’s mace, but he then began to lose again, losing more.

Yudar’s expression did not change, whether he won or he lost. His eyes glazed over and he mumbled out stakes in a low voice.

As Darvad continued to win, Firdaus’ expression grew euphoric. He grinned with every roll of six, and Darvad and Druv cried out happily, laughing at each new triumph. Only Tarek sat still, his grim face mirroring Jandu’s own.

Firdaus rolled a six.

“The dice are loaded,” Baram said. He glared at Firdaus.

“Such a claim is an insult to me,” Firdaus stated loudly. “But if you feel so, we will switch to yours.”

Baram grabbed the dice from Firdaus’ hand and slammed them next to Jandu. He pushed Yudar’s dice over to Darvad’s side of the board.

The room grew hotter in the afternoon sun and the water in their glasses sweated profusely, but Yudar did not stop. By the time another hour had passed, Yudar had spent every penny he had.

Jandu had never seen Yudar like this. The stakes had risen so quickly, so quietly, that everyone seemed taken by surprise. It felt surreal, except that the room was too hot and the smells of sweating men too strong for it to be a dream. Yudar gambled all the time, but he rarely lost control like this.          

“I stake all of my weapons and my armor,” Yudar said quietly.

“Maybe you should stop,” Baram told him.

Yudar refused. Jandu knew he would not stop because he understood how Yudar thought. His brother honestly believed he could win it all back, that all he needed was one lucky break. One bad throw of Firdaus’, and then Yudar could use his skill to gain back his fortunes and more. Jandu suddenly realized that Yudar would not quit until he lost everything.

“We have to stop now.” Jandu resolutely placed the dice on the board.

“No.” Yudar’s eyes never strayed from the board.

“I won’t throw the dice anymore,” Jandu hissed to Yudar.

“Fine, I’ll roll myself.” Yudar picked up the dice and cast them out on the board.

Yudar won, and relief swept through the room. Jandu swallowed to try and regain moisture in his throat. His body ached with tension. Darvad conceded all of his armor, and then staked some of Yudar’s possessions back to him. When Yudar lost again, his confidence waned slightly. A sheen of sweat formed on Yudar’s forehead.

Firdaus rolled a three, the exact number they needed to bring their piece home, and Yudar lost the game. Without pausing to think or have a drink of water, Yudar nodded frantically to Darvad. “Again. Let us play again.”

“Are you sure?” Darvad asked. “I already own almost all of your possessions.”

“You must at least give me a chance to win them back,” Yudar said.

“That is enough,” Baram told his brother. He put a large hand on Yudar’s shoulder. “You’ve already gone too far.”

“I know what I am doing,” Yudar growled.

Baram frowned but relented.

Darvad and Yudar rolled to go first, and Yudar got the lead. But he soon lost the advantage as Firdaus miraculously threw sixes, fives, and the exact points he needed to reach each of the board’s houses.

Jandu felt sick to his stomach.

Yudar licked his lips. “Baram’s sword,” he said quietly. “I stake that.”

“No!” Baram shouted. “It’s my sword, not yours! Gamble your own!”

 “I’m your elder brother,” Yudar snapped back, his voice rising. “What you own is mine.”

Baram growled. “Yudar, stop now.”

“Baram’s sword,” Yudar said again, nervously tapping the board. He looked anxiously at Firdaus. “Roll the dice.”

Firdaus rolled a six.

Mazar moaned loudly and held his face in his hands. Jandu gaped as Baram, fuming, handed his sword to Darvad.

Yudar continued. He staked their gold, their jewels, their lands. He staked the finest breeding stallions and Jandu’s horse, Shedav. He staked the crops they tithed, and he staked the last of their chariots. He went farther than he’d ever gone before, gambling away things that belonged to his brothers, his wife.

Finally, he said, “I stake Zandi, Jandu’s bow.”

Darvad grinned at Tarek.

A chill ran down Jandu’s spine. “You cannot stake her,” he told Yudar.

Yudar regarded Jandu blankly. “I will win her back for you, I promise.”

“She isn’t mine anymore. I gave her to Keshan.” Jandu felt like throwing up. Did Keshan see this? Did he know this would happen?

Yudar ground his teeth. “Fine then. I stake my half of the kingdom of Marhavad.”

“What?” Baram shouted.

“No, you cannot!” Mazar yelled at him. He crouched beside Yudar. “It is not yours to gamble away. It belongs to the people. It was given to you by God!”

“I am offering Darvad a chance to possess the throne in its entirely, the way our father intended it to be. I stake the kingdom.” Yudar sweated profusely, and his eyes darted, but he still spoke calmly.

“No!” Jandu shouted. He couldn’t take it any longer. “Yudar! Don’t be so stupid!”

 “How dare you speak to me like that!” Yudar hissed. His tense, calm façade shattered, replaced with rage. “I am your older brother, and your king!”

“Which is why I’m making you stop,” Jandu said. He reached down to grab Yudar’s arm, but Yudar pulled from his grasp. He stood in a flash and leaned in close to Jandu.

“I have it under control,” Yudar whispered angrily into Jandu’s ear. “You have to trust me! I know what I’m doing!”

Jandu stared at him. “You just bet our kingdom!”

“I’m going to get it all back, but I can’t if I stop playing!” Yudar said, resuming his seat. He straightened his sash and stared at Darvad. “What do you stake?”

Darvad raised his eyebrow. “All your own possessions and all of mine.”

 “Fine,” Yudar said. “Roll.” He looked so calm, so assured that for a moment Jandu wondered if Yudar possessed some secret—knew some trick that would win everything back.

Firdaus rolled a three. The room gasped collectively. Even Firdaus looked stunned.

Jandu watched, holding his breath.

Yudar rolled the dice.

Two.

Shocked dismay echoed throughout the room. For the first time, Yudar began to look afraid.

Jandu rushed to his brother’s side. “Get up, Yudar.” He pulled on his arm. “Get up.”

Yudar stared ahead of him, as if in shock. “I can’t.”

“You must!” Jandu cried.

Yudar shook his head. “I have no choice now. I have to keep playing. It’s the only way I can get back the kingdom.”

Jandu fought back the urge to punch his brother in the face.

“This is madness,” Baram cried. He shook Yudar fiercely. “We have lost everything!”

“It is the only way!” Yudar started shaking. He looked at Firdaus and pointed at Firdaus’ dice. “Roll again!”

“But you have nothing left to wager,” Firdaus said.

“I stake my youngest brother, Jandu.”

The room went silent. Darvad stopped smiling. He stared at Yudar in clear horror. Jandu felt his bones go cold, as if he were turning to ice. He couldn’t believe Yudar’s words. This couldn’t be happening.

“Have you gone mad?” Baram shook with rage. “Yudar, think!”

Firdaus smiled. “You are willing to make Jandu a slave?”

Yudar clenched his fists. “Roll the dice!”

Jandu’s throat had gone completely dry. He watched Yudar as if in a dream.

Firdaus rattled the dice in his hands, the sound deafening in the utter silence of the room. Then Darvad gently took the dice from Firdaus’ hands.

“This stops now,” he said.

“Darvad, let him gamble away his own flesh and blood if he wants to,” Firdaus said.

“No,” Darvad said. “Jandu is my half-brother. I will not see him enslaved.”

“But we must continue!” Yudar was panicked now. He stood, his hands shaking. “The game must continue!“

“Yudar,” Darvad said calmly. “You just staked your own brother.”

 “Enough!” Mazar stood. He looked furious. “This is one of the most despicable scenes I have ever had the displeasure to witness, and I thank God that your father is not alive to have seen it!”

As if suddenly awakened from a dream, Yudar snapped his attention up from the dice. His eyes went to Mazar and then Jandu.

“I didn’t mean…” Yudar began, but didn’t go on. Jandu could only stare at his brother, feeling betrayed. Then as if the shame had not been enough already, tears began to pour down Yudar’s cheeks. He cupped his hand over his eyes. Baram leaned against the back wall, holding Suraya, who appeared to be on the verge of fainting.

 “But what is to be done?” Druv asked.

“What can be done?” Firdaus shrugged. “Darvad is king now of all of Marhavad. The Parans have nothing left.”

“I will not allow that!” Mazar’s voice trembled with anger.

“But we cannot allow a man who would gamble his people and land away so carelessly to be king!” Druv gestured emphatically.

“I have a suggestion,” Darvad said. “Perhaps Yudar may look to the example of the Prophet Sadeshar, and win back the favor of God and his people.”

Jandu searched his memory for Prophet Sadeshar. He recalled something about an exile, but could dredge up no details.

Yudar obviously remembered. He went pale. “No! It’s too much!”

“I don’t think so,” Darvad said smoothly. “Considering you’ve just given me control over the entire nation, I think it is very fair to ask you to serve penance for your recklessness. And, once the penance is served, I will grant you back your half of the kingdom, and we will be equals once more. I will not steal from you, Yudar.”

Yudar glanced again to Jandu and all his pride seemed to crumple. He covered his face with his hands again. “Yes! By the grace of God, I will repent! I will follow the Prophet Sadeshar’s actions!”

“Good!” Darvad cried. “You must go into exile and suffer three years of anonymity. No one may help you, or they will face the wrath of God and be banished from the Triya caste. And if you reveal yourselves, your penance begins again.”

Jandu caught a satisfied look between Firdaus and Druv, and realized this was too perfect. They had this planned.         

Jandu lunged at Darvad, grabbing him by the neck.

“You fucking prick! You set this up!”

“Guards!” Darvad choked. Suddenly hands were upon Jandu, yanking him backwards. He struggled to free himself. One of the guards punched him in the eye. Jandu’s vision went black. He fell to his knees.

“Don’t make this worse, Jandu!” Baram hissed in his ear. He pulled Jandu back towards the wall.

“The game was rigged!” Jandu cried.

“Enough! It is clear that we have all disgraced God on this day! But none more than Yudar Paran! I agree to the terms of Darvad’s settlement.” Mazar glared at Yudar. “Yudar. You and your family will go into exile. And, like the Prophet Sadeshar in the Book of Taivo, if you survive by the grace of God, you will emerge from your exile sinless, and prove yourself worthy of your noble birth once more.”

“I will forgive everything after the exile,” Darvad said, hand over his heart.

Yudar controlled his weeping long enough to look up and raise his palm to the sky. “I swear, to our beloved God, and on the Book of Taivo, that I accept this exile, and this punishment, for my sins.” He looked to Darvad. “But please, do not punish my family as well.” He knelt at Darvad’s feet. “Let Suraya, Baram, and Jandu stay.”

“You played this game as a family, and you have all lost as a family,” Darvad spat. His voice rose above the crowd. “The Parans must go into exile this very day, or else they forever forfeit their right to this kingdom. They are to take only what they can carry. And anyone found helping the Parans in their exile will be disgraced and outcaste.”

“So be it,” Mazar said. He shook his head. “Make way for the Parans to leave us.”

The room was a flurry of activity. People poured out of the gaming room to pass on the news.

Baram let go of Jandu. “You better get your things.”

Jandu’s vision was starry. He pushed his way through the crowd, heading for the chamber that was no longer his room.

Take only the things you can carry.

Jandu tried to move, to start packing. But his body would not obey. He was too shocked to do more than sit there on the edge of his bed, wondering how his world had tumbled to such a disastrous end, so quickly.

It seemed only moments later that Baram and Suraya found him. Together they hastily packed their belongings. He worked quickly to keep his mind off how angry he was with Yudar and of how frightened he was of the next three years.

Bailiffs came to escort them out of the palace.

Yudar said nothing as the four of them left the palace in stately procession. They wore white cotton trousers and shirts, the color of pilgrimage. Servants and allies and friends wept openly. They touched their feet and some rushed to offer them small tokens of their support. Jandu walked, eyes forward in a daze.

As they made their way to the city gates, a steady stream of grief-stricken nobles and wealthy Suya followed them. Many wailed as if at a wake. It was the most depressing sound Jandu had ever heard. The city wept for them. But there was nothing to be done. Yudar had sealed their fate.

At the outskirts of the city, a chariot pulled up alongside them. It stopped suddenly and Keshan jumped out. “I came as soon as I heard.” He took one look at Jandu and his face darkened. “Who hit you?” he demanded.