The Archer's Heart (23 page)

“Did you know this would happen?” Jandu suddenly asked, rounding on Keshan. “Did you see this in your premonition?”

“No.” Keshan’s eyes were wide. “God, no. I knew Zandi was at risk. That is all.”

Jandu felt immensely relieved. At least Keshan hadn’t betrayed him.

Keshan glared at Yudar. “What kind of man are you?”

Yudar still said nothing to anyone. He cried silently, his face bowed. Baram and Suraya walked behind him, Baram’s arm around Suraya as she too cried. Baram whispered to her but Jandu couldn’t hear what he said. Jandu gazed forward, feeling perilously close to tears himself.

They had reached the crossroads. The procession behind them stopped, weeping and waving and throwing palm leaves toward them.

Keshan’s charioteer kept his horses at a steady walk alongside the Parans. Keshan reached into the chariot and pulled out Jandu’s bow.

“Take her back.” He handed Zandi to him.

Jandu swallowed. Two days ago, he was happier than he had ever been in his life. The idea of running away from his family, here and now, suddenly flashed through his mind. He would go and live with Keshan in Tiwari. He could find happiness once more.

But then the stark reality hit him. Keshan, like the other lords of Marhavad, was forbidden to aid any of them. He risked worse than exile—becoming an outcaste if he defied Darvad.

“You should go,” Jandu told him. “You cannot help us. You will be outcaste.”

“I will talk with Darvad.” Keshan said. “I will do all I can, Jandu, I promise.”

Jandu turned and hugged Keshan tightly. He blinked back tears.

“I love you,” he whispered into Keshan’s ear.

“I’ll find a way to help you, I swear to God.” Keshan’s fingers twined in Jandu’s hair. And then he let go. He gave Suraya a brief hug, and Baram as well. Then he stepped back into the chariot. “Chezek, let’s go.”

Keshan’s charioteer cracked the whip, and the horses broke into a startled canter.

Jandu watched Keshan go, and realized Keshan took his heart with him. But there was no turning back.

Chapter 19

The throne room glittered with gold armor and shone with bright silky colors. Sunlight reflected off the dozens of bejeweled diadems, breastplates and gauntlets. Men with sword hilts encrusted with rubies and sapphires sashayed past platters of grapes and bowls of spiced chutney served with toasted breads. The sound of the lords of Marhavad rumbled like the grumbling of hungry bellies, all these Triya pressed together to form one shimmering image of incandescent power, gathered to submit to Darvad’s oath-taking ceremony. Keshan felt sick inside, but gave no external evidence. He circuited the room, socializing, scandalizing, his smile bright, his sense of humor wicked. And silently he counted. Which lords and courtiers looked disgruntled, which ones whispered rumors. Some lords were noticeably missing from the ceremony entirely.

Keshan had assumed that Yudar’s despicable behavior at the dice game would sway favor towards Darvad. But while most agreed Yudar went too far, others susurrated in discreet groups, questioning how someone as talented at dice as Yudar could have been beaten so soundly. Yudar’s continued hold over the lords surprised Keshan.

Keshan flirted with the two unmarried daughters of the lord of Penemar until a trumpet blasted, urging the assembled to take their seats.

Keshan found his seat, next to his brother Iyestar’s in the honored front row of the throne room. The throne itself sat high upon a gold-lacquered dais. Beneath it, one hundred velvet seats formed an oval that faced the dais. The seats were divided into four rows in which the guests seated according to rank, Shentari caste striation infiltrating every part of their culture.

After the dice game, Iyestar was happy to return to Prasta. But a new tension instilled Iyestar’s personality, and even now Keshan could feel his brother’s anxiety.

 “Yudar’s allies whisper that Darvad cheated at dice,” Keshan said conversationally to his brother. Iyestar stiffened at his side, but said nothing. This told Keshan as much as words would have.

Keshan gave Iyestar a hard look. “Is that the reason we left Prasta?”

“I told you why we left Prasta,” Iyestar said.

“Was this a contributing factor in our decision to leave Prasta?” Keshan kept at it.

“I was not at the game,” Iyestar said carefully. “And I won’t stoop to conjecture. Regardless of what Darvad may have done, it was Yudar who staked his kingdom and his brother. There is no excuse for it.”

“No, but it may explain why there is more tension here than I expected.” A clamorous chorus of trumpets interrupted their conversation and Darvad strode into the room, trailed by royal staff.

As he took his seat on the throne, Darvad looked splendid. He looked like a king. His expressive face showed kindness, but his hard-cut body illustrated the strength and power of will underlying that kindness. More than ten years had passed since anyone wore the crown, and now it sat resplendent on Darvad’s brow. The crown was covered in diamonds, set in delicately engraved gold and silver, with the fur of a leopard forming a soft base.

Darvad brought his palms together in the sign of peace. Keshan and the others immediately fell from their seats and bowed low, heads on the floor, in supplication. When Keshan sat back, he made eye contact with Darvad, who smiled at him. Keshan winked back.

“Great lords of Marhavad,” Darvad began, “today, I ask all of you to take a holy oath to defend this kingdom, and to serve as my loyal vassals. You swear by this oath to abide the laws of Marhavad, and to care for our people. You swear to uphold the law as established by my Royal Judge, and to act in your positions as lords with honor befitting the Triya race.”

Darvad listed the traditional requirements of a lord of Marhavad in serving his royal master, and Keshan scanned the room. He still could not find the lord of Marshav. Lord Kadal was one of Yudar’s most loyal supporters, and his absence was not going unnoticed. Keshan also could not find the lord of Jezza.

“You swear by this oath to fight alongside me should this kingdom face an enemy from the untamed territories.” Darvad read from a scroll. He cleared his throat and looked to the audience. “And you swear by this oath not to aid nor assist the Parans during their three years of exile. Anyone caught helping the Parans during this period will be breaking a holy oath will be branded as a Jegora untouchable and outcaste from our Triya society.”

Keshan tensed. It was the first inclusion of a new oath to the ceremony in decades. Of all the new ideas to bring about, why would Darvad choose this first?

“By this oath, you also swear to reconsider the status of the lower castes in your state, through proper security of their livelihood, safety in their neighborhoods, better sanitation, and better health care.”

It was almost as though Darvad wrote that for Keshan alone, softening the blow of abandoning Jandu with a plea to help thousands of Suya, Chaya and even Jegora.

One by one, the lords of Marhavad stepped forward and bowed before Darvad, taking the oath to serve him in accordance with his specifications. Darvad’s closest allies were the first in line; Tarek Amia, lord of Dragewan; Firdaus Trinat, lord of Chandamar; and Druv Majeo, lord of Pagdesh.

Keshan remained sitting, thinking. He was more than willing to take an oath and break it if need be. That was part of his character. He would not be pinned down by vows. But it bothered him that so many other men who he knew would die before breaking an oath stood and swore their obedience without hesitation.

The lords formed a queue. The room grew noisy once more. Iyestar stood and stretched. “Will you take the oath with me?” he asked Keshan.

“You are the lord of Tiwari, not me,” Keshan said.

“I want Darvad to see your loyalty.”

Keshan joined him in line. He hummed a small tune to himself as they waited. Each lord prostrated himself, took the oath, and was dubbed by Darvad’s sword. The line moved slowly.

“You heard the oaths, didn’t you?” Iyestar whispered.

“I have ears.”

“And the one about helping the Parans.”

Keshan shrugged.

Iyestar stealthily grabbed a hold of Keshan’s arm and squeezed. “You must abide it. You—”

“—Don’t worry. If you need me to take the oath with you, fine, I’ll take the oath. But I will still do what is right, dictated by my heart, not by Darvad or by you or by anyone other than God.”

Iyestar hissed into Keshan’s ear. “This is serious, Keshan. I don’t want you breaking this vow. In any case, I don’t know why you would want to. Yudar gambled his people and his own brothers away.”

“I have no interest in helping Yudar,” Keshan whispered back. “You know very well I’d only help Jandu, and—”

“No.” Iyestar jerked him out of line. Keshan let himself be dragged to the corner of the room. Iyestar glared down at him, his voice low and dangerous. “This is the end of your affair. Do you hear me? You will not interfere.”

“It is not Jandu’s fault that—”

“Listen to me, brother, and listen closely.” Iyestar’s voice barely controlled his anger. “I am taking the King’s oath on behalf of all our people, you included. You will forget the Parans. They will endure their penance and return in three years, and then you can do whatever it is you wish with our cousin. But until then, you are not to see him. You are not to help him. You are not to even think about him, is that understood?”

“Iyestar, I am merely asking you to question—”

“My word is final!” Iyestar hissed through clenched teeth. “By God, do I have to find one of our cousins who has the power to curse to bring you in line? I will do it, I swear. Aunt Umia promised me that she would use her shartic curse on anyone if I asked her to.”

“Will she curse me with the power to read minds?” Keshan asked, hoping levity would raise his brother from his rage.

Iyestar glared. “I’m serious. If I have to make her remove your ability to walk, or talk, or leave my sight, I will do so. Don’t push me.”

Keshan opened his mouth to reply but Iyestar was already gone, bristling as he stomped to join the line of lords once more.

He watched Iyestar bow low before Darvad. Iyestar spoke the oath clearly and carefully, and when it was over, he reached down and touched Darvad’s feet. Darvad leaned down to help Iyestar stand, and then hugged him, his smile wide and honest.

“Iyestar, old friend, it is good to see you again.” Darvad whispered something in Iyestar’s ear, and the two laughed.

By the end of the oath-taking, it was clear which lords had not made it to the ceremony. Lord Kadal of Marshav sent a messenger begging the King’s forgiveness and claiming illness. Lord Sahdin of Jezza sent a similar message.

Once the lords completed the oath-taking, they milled about the room, looking yearningly towards the garden where a feast awaited them. But Darvad held them back, begging their indulgence. He whispered something to an attendant, and a minute later, Royal Priest Onshu appeared, dressed in flowing violet-colored robes, his knotted hair thick with henna, his face marked with the tattoos of the Draya caste.

“My loyal lords,” Darvad said, holding his hands out. He motioned for everyone to remain. “I would like to bring High Priest Onshu to the dais, along with my dearest friend.” Darvad turned to Tarek and smiled. “Tarek? Come here please.”

Tarek approached the dais with a self-conscious air.

“As God’s representative here in our world,” Darvad said, “I have the power to grant a rebirth to those souls worthy of blessing our noble Triya race. I have asked Draya Onshu to perform the rebirth ceremony for Tarek Amia, lord of Dragewan, to raise him to full Triya status.”

Although many expected this, it still seemed to surprise some in the assembly. Tarek’s eyes looked glassy with emotion as he stepped forward and bowed low before the priest.

Onshu prayed and washed Tarek’s hair with holy water. He then rubbed sandalwood paste on Tarek’s forehead. Tarek held out his hands and the priest lined them with henna markings. And then, in the boldest statement of all, Priest Onshu knelt before Tarek himself, hands on Tarek’s feet.

“I grant you the power to protect my caste, o Triya, and trust you use the gift God has given you wisely.”

Tarek could barely speak. “Thank you, Draya.” The two made the sign of peace to each other, and then Onshu left.

Darvad had tears in his eyes. He and Tarek embraced, and the room broke out into applause. Keshan clapped along with them. He smiled, grateful that Darvad had chosen to do this. Of course he truly hoped that one day such gestures would be meaningless—that Suya or Triya, each man would be treated the same. But for the time being, it was as noble and equal gesture as the current laws allowed, and Keshan was proud of Darvad for it.

Darvad turned to face the lords once more, arm tight around Tarek’s shoulder. “Let all men here know that Lord Tarek Amia of Dragewan is fully Triya, to be accorded all rights and honors as such. In addition, I now take this opportunity to appoint Tarek as Royal Judge for this throne, to bring justice to our kingdom, and to oversee my laws in the way only a man as noble and pure of heart as Tarek can.”

Keshan felt momentarily winded. Shock flooded him, then anger. The position of Royal Judge was the most powerful in all the nation after the King, and Darvad had promised it to Keshan himself.

Keshan quickly concealed his anger. He clapped with the rest of the lords, who looked as stunned as he. Tarek was still a good choice, Keshan reassured himself. No one would be more sympathetic to the plight of the lower classes than a man who had suffered inequity himself. And Keshan hoped Tarek would be receptive to his ideas.

“I have kept you waiting long enough!” Darvad laughed. “Please join me for a feast to celebrate the occasion!” He gestured towards the garden, and immediately the men pushed their way towards the food and wine.

Keshan took his time leaving the throne room. Outside, the sun was setting, and the wind picked up. Keshan wrapped his harafa tighter around his torso, scanning for Tarek.

Even though it was Darvad’s ceremony, Tarek was the man of the hour, and Keshan wasn’t alone in his desire to speak with him. He made brief eye contact, and Tarek swiftly disengaged himself and came to Keshan’s side.

They exchanged the sign of peace, and Keshan smiled.

“Congratulations, Lord Tarek.”

“I hope you are not disappointed,” Tarek said.

 “Me? Upset?” Keshan smiled. “I’m delighted! I can’t think of anyone who will be a fairer judge than you. And if you need any assistance from me, you know I will provide it.” Keshan squeezed Tarek’s shoulder. “You have to do all the hard work now—I get to simply pass you my recommendations.”

“And I will treat them with the gravity they deserve,” Tarek said solemnly.

And unlike any of the other sycophantic court Triya, Keshan believed him.

“We will change this world, Tarek. You, me, and Darvad.”

Tarek nodded, and gave Keshan a proud smile.

“I look forward to it.”