Mendraz did laugh this time, a frightening sound that made Jandu think twice about being clever again.
“It is not surprising,” Mendraz commented. “You are the first human in generations who is able to see into our world. You are bound to cause mixed feelings amongst my kind.”
“My lord, I humbly request your assistance,” Jandu begged. He spoke quickly, telling Mendraz of Umia’s curse
When he finished, Mendraz sighed. “Rise, Jandu. You’re not a peasant.”
Jandu stood up and looked expectantly at Lord Mendraz. “My apologies, lord! I didn’t know what to do.”
“Umia is very persistent when she sets her heart on something,” Mendraz said. “I should congratulate you—of all the mortals Umia has fancied, you’re the only one who refused her. Tell me though, if your letters were not meant to seduce Umia, who were they for?”
Jandu clenched his mouth shut. But Mendraz continued to stare, obviously willing to wait for an answer.
“They were—” Jandu flushed, closed his eyes, and prayed that Keshan had been telling him the truth about the freedom of the Yashva kingdom. “I wrote them for Keshan Adaru.”
“I thought as much,” King Mendraz said. “He has been praying for your safety every night for months. It’s very wearying.”
Jandu swallowed the burst of affection he instantly felt for Keshan. He folded his hands in supplication. “I am sorry. Can you help me, lord?”
Mendraz looked bemused. “Well, I cannot remove the curse entirely. It is her shartic power, that once her curse is uttered, it cannot be revoked. However, I can change it.”
“Change it? How?”
“I can reduce the curse to one year. It will be any year of your choosing. Just pray to me, and I will let the year begin.”
Jandu smiled weakly. “Thank you.”
Mendraz looked like he was smirking. “I’m sure you will make a lovely woman.”
“Thank you,” Jandu said, his cheeks burning in shame.
Mendraz moved towards him quickly. Jandu braced himself. Mendraz reached down and put his hand on Jandu’s head.
Nausea washed through Jandu as Mendraz touched him. He felt like his stomach was pulled up his throat. A rocking seasickness filled him, and then his mind pulsed as dozens of Yashva words shouted into his ear with shocking volume.
Jandu closed his eyes tightly. His head felt as though it would explode.
And then Mendraz lifted his hand off of him and disappeared.
“Be strong, ally of the Yashvas,” Mendraz told him from the darkness.
Jandu steadied his balance, and shook his head to clear it. He had a pounding headache. And he couldn’t see anything, his eyes still blinded by the brightness of the demon.
Jandu swallowed. Feeling slightly better, Jandu returned back to his family, and shared the news. Once the immediate disaster had been averted, his brothers chided him, first about not sleeping with a beautiful immortal, and secondly to guess what womanly attributes Jandu would develop. He shot nasty glances at them, and hit Baram in the head when Baram suggested that Jandu would be an adorable maiden.
The comments hurt Jandu’s pride, and he groaned as they got worse, the rest of them laughing hysterically as they imagined a female Jandu. He almost snapped completely and told them all to fuck off.
But then he realized that, for the first night in ages, none of them complained about their hunger. And for the first time in what felt like a year, Jandu hadn’t worried about Keshan. The rest of their lives were so miserable, a smaller tragedy lightened their mood.
So Jandu let them mock him, taking it diligently until he realized it would never end unless he hit Baram. This started a friendly brawl and ended with a broken bench and an angry wife, who demanded that they fix it.
It was sad when bad news was better than horrible news, but Jandu reveled in that one night, where he felt almost safe. Mendraz had helped him, and although he was not completely out of danger, at least the worst had been averted.
Chapter 24
N
OT FOR THE FIRST TIME,
K
ESHAN FOUND HIMSELF WAITING
to see King Darvad.
Over the past year, Keshan had been treated warmly by Darvad. He and Iyestar enjoyed a place within Darvad’s inner circle. Keshan split his time between Prasta and Tiwari, taking over pressing business at home when Iyestar was in the capital, and pushing his own agenda within the royal palace.
But recently, Darvad seemed hesitant to see him. Keshan suspected it was because he pressed his legal agenda every time he had a chance to meet with the king. Keshan knew he sounded repetitive, but it was the only way he could get his message through.
Tarek always took the time to listen to Keshan’s concerns, and he kept his promise to push forward Keshan’s legislation. When Tarek was in Prasta, he and Keshan built an easy friendship, based on a shared vision of the country’s future. But now Tarek was away again, off on another errand for Darvad, subjugating the lords who balked at Darvad’s rule.
Darvad’s changes were not being accepted without challenge. In addition to Keshan’s improvements, Darvad was also making sweeping revisions to the traditions of their culture. He lessened the control of the temple over the land. He reduced tithing to Shentari priests. He forced the Draya to pay more in taxes. And he required absolute fealty to his rule.
Each small outbreak of resentment was immediately answered by dispatching the Royal Judge. Tarek was a rare sight in the palace now, too busy traveling the country running Darvad’s errands and forcing Darvad’s heavy-handed rule amongst the lords.
Tarek’s absence made Keshan’s job harder. And now Darvad kept Keshan waiting for an audience, knowing full well why Keshan was there.
Keshan played his flute as he waited in a luxurious sitting room in the palace. At least he didn’t have to wait for Darvad’s attention in the reception hall, with the rest of the courtiers. Servants brought Keshan food and wine, and one of Darvad’s stewards checked on him every half hour, begging forgiveness for the delay, assuring Keshan that he had not been forgotten.
But the wasted time rankled Keshan.
Finally, Keshan gave up waiting. He tucked his flute away and grabbed his scroll, and headed down the marble hallway in search of Darvad himself. He would interrupt the king if need be.
Keshan found Darvad in one of the palace gardens, talking quietly with Druv. The two of them sat around a chess board, but neither of them played. Blossoming orchids filled the garden. One of the palace cats sat on the low plaster wall, blinking lazily into the sunlight. The two men sat at a table on a bench with their backs facing Keshan.
“I have absolute confidence that they are not in Jagu Mali or Bandari,” Druv said. “My reports from Marshav are not complete, but I have heard back from my scouts in two thirds of the state, and no one can report any sign of the Parans there either.”
Darvad threw one of the chess pieces across the garden. The cat immediately leapt off the wall.
“Damn it, Druv! It does me no good to tell me where they
aren’t
. I need to know where they are, and quickly! Half of their exile is over and there is still not a sign of them! You must try harder.”
“I am using the full extent of my contacts, Darvad. But finding four people in the entire country, especially four people who are trying not to be found, isn’t easy.”
“How hard can it be? They stand out like demons! Three men and a woman, traveling together? One the size of a house, another with blue eyes? For God’s sake, do I have to do this myself?”
“Darvad, I am trying. Have faith in me. We will find them in time.” Druv suddenly looked back and saw Keshan. “It looks like we have a guest.”
Darvad turned his head and glared at Keshan.
“Keshan!” Darvad’s glare lessened slightly. “You surprised us. I didn’t know you were waiting.”
“I’ve been waiting for two hours,” Keshan said. He smiled and made the sign of peace to both of them. “I decided I would come and find you myself before I grew old.”
“Please, sit down and join us.” Darvad gestured to the bench across from him and Druv at the table. “Were you given any refreshment?”
“Yes, I have had plenty of time to eat, thank you.”
Druv stood. “I’m sorry, I have to concede the game to you, Darvad. Besides, you threw my queen across the courtyard.”
“I would have beaten you anyway,” Darvad said.
“Perhaps.” Druv bowed to Keshan. “Excuse me, but I must leave you both. I must follow up on some errands.”
An uncomfortable silence followed as Darvad accompanied Druv out of the garden, and then turned back to Keshan. His face darkened.
“I’m sorry to keep you waiting, Keshan, but I have been very busy.”
Keshan raised an eyebrow. “Yes, I heard a little of what is occupying your time. I also heard that Tarek is leading a confrontation in Jagu Mali. How does it go?”
“It isn’t much of a confrontation. Tarek is simply ensuring that Lord Bir is collecting the appropriate levels of taxes from his citizens. You should be pleased. Apparently Bir did not like the new laws lessening the punishments against the Chaya. Tarek is making sure he sees the light.”
Keshan nodded. “I am glad to hear it.”
“I have not forgotten your requests,” Darvad said.
“I know. And I am grateful.” Keshan passed over his scroll. “But there is so much more to be done. We still need to establish funding for schools for the Chaya.”
“We have already made great strides with the Chaya.”
“You are watering down my changes until they are meaningless!” Keshan realized his voice was rising, and took a deep breath. “We have only begun our work. What about getting priests to bless the Chaya temples without unreasonable payoffs?”
“It is next on my list of things to do,” Darvad said wearily.
“And the changes to the status of the Jegora?”
Darvad rubbed his eyes. He was silent for a long moment. And then he stared at Keshan wearily.
“Keshan. Listen to me. We have to do this carefully. We cannot rush into anything.”
“I hardly think it is rushing,” Keshan said.
“These radical changes take time. The Jegora are despised by God. To embrace them in our culture is the equivalent of telling the priests that we shun the word of God. It is one thing to help the Suya and Chaya; they are God’s children. But the untouchables? No one wants to include them, Keshan. Not even my most radical allies.”
“But they have it worst of all,” Keshan urged. “Even if we make small changes, we can improve their lot. Today, the untouchables are only allowed to wear the clothes of the dead. What if we remove that law? How does that harm anybody?”
“That isn’t the point,” Darvad said. “The Jegora wear clothing from the dead because it is in the Book of Taivo. The Shentari faith is based on the precepts in the Book, and if we ignore one of the precepts, then we are opening ourselves up to change them all.”
“Yes.”
Darvad sighed. “I cannot commit to that. Every law we have enacted still allows the Shentari faith to keep its precepts. Once we start picking and choosing which of the holy tenets we abide, we may start a war. The Draya won’t like it. The faithful won’t like it. And I can’t afford to lose everyone just to change the wardrobe of ten percent of the population.”
Keshan stifled his bitter response. It would do no good to fight Darvad on this. Darvad was king, and Keshan would lose. He would have to try a different tactic.
“What about making changes that do not go against the Book of Taivo? Nowhere does it state that God encourages the beating of the Jegora, and yet this happens all the time. If we passed a law saying that harming the Jegora will result in punishment, we have not broken any religious belief, and we have made an immediate improvement to the lives of thousands of men and women across this country. Darvad, we live in a country where a Jegora woman may be dragged from her house and raped and there is no punishment or shame cast upon her attacker. They have no rights.”
“They are untouchables. They have never had rights. I know this is hard for you to accept, but we cannot fight their battle just yet. Let us improve the plight of the Suya and Chaya for now. Please?”
Darvad looked sincere. And suddenly, Keshan felt sickened by the whole thing. Darvad
was
sincere. He wanted change. He embodied Keshan’s hopes for a new world. And yet even he could not imagine a world where a Jegora was treated as a full human being. The idea was as foreign as it was to ask a cow for permission to milk her. The cow was there to serve human beings. And the Jegora were there to take care of dead bodies and clean up the sewers. Keshan suddenly felt like giving up. Weariness passed from Darvad into him. So many months of working so hard. So many trivial annoyances that he let go of. The dozens of spies which followed him daily, hoping that he would lead Darvad to the Parans; the madness of trying to communicate legal changes to a Royal Judge who was never there; and the more personal troubles. Iyestar and he fought constantly now. Ajani’s frustration with him grew to new heights. And his inability to communicate with Jandu, all of this mounted into a moment of crippling frustration.
“Thank you for your time,” Keshan said brusquely. He left the scroll with Darvad and made his way to the gate.
“Don’t be angry with me,” Darvad asked. He followed Keshan to the gate and touched his shoulder. “I cannot bear it. Too many people hate me already. I need you. I need you on my side.”
Keshan smiled weakly. “I am not angry. I am frustrated, yes. But not angry.”
Darvad smiled back. “Good. Then you know how I feel.” He embraced Keshan briefly. “Thank you for coming. I will make sure you do not wait so long the next time.”
Keshan turned and left the palace. As he suspected, the moment he got into his chariot, a rider on horseback mounted and trailed him. Druv’s spies were obvious. Keshan wondered if it wasn’t deliberate, a way to keep Keshan in line.
The thought fuelled his anger. Because of them, he hadn’t heard a word from Jandu in months. Druv’s spies had caught Chezek the last time he had returned from the mountains. And while they did not hurt Chezek, and although Chezek managed to keep Jandu’s letters safe out of their hands, the risk was just too great.
But the months of silence gnawed at him constantly. For all he knew, Jandu was dead. Frustration coiled within him, made him reckless.
“I’ll just visit him myself.” As soon as he mumbled the words, Keshan realized that he would break all the rules and actually do it. He no longer cared about the repercussions. His brother could be angry. Darvad could suspect him. It didn’t matter now. He needed to alleviate the worry in his mind, or else he could not concentrate on anything else. He needed a break from the palace, and from politics. And no one was as good at making Keshan forget his troubles than Jandu.
As his chariot wound through the dusty streets of Prasta, a giddy excitement built in him. Once he had made his decision, he thought himself a fool for waiting so long. He could not be gone indefinitely, but at least he could have something to refresh him, rejuvenate him, after months of stagnant frustration.
That evening, he met with his loyal servant Chezek in private. Chezek had been Keshan’s charioteer since he was a teenager, and he trusted the gruff man with his life. Only Chezek held the secret of Keshan’s relationship with Jandu, and he never questioned it. Chezek’s loyalty was unwavering, and so it was with him alone that Keshan plotted.
The following day, Chezek left the palace on the premise that he had an urgent message to deliver for Keshan. He returned, anxious, and urged Keshan that his good friend in Pagdesh was ill, begging Keshan to tend to him.
Keshan made the excuse to Iyestar, who eyed Chezek and Keshan both with an air of suspicion.
“I had no idea that you were so close to Gerevan Handari,” Iyestar said, looking at the parchment Chezek had delivered.
“We have maintained a steady correspondence since he visited us in Tiwari,” Keshan said calmly. “I owe him my attendance if he requests it.”
Iyestar ground his teeth. He handed the letter back to Keshan. “Fine, go then. But no longer than a week. I need you here.”
Keshan bowed to his older brother, and hid his smile of triumph until he was safely out of Iyestar’s quarters. Immediately, he packed his belongings and sent Chezek to the market to purchase additional items, gifts for Handari’s extensive family.
All of his preparations were watched carefully. It irked Keshan that even in his own townhouse in Prasta, Druv’s spies monitored him. Servants Keshan once thought of as honest suddenly appeared in his chambers, looked through his documents. Keshan fought the urge to fire them, realizing they would only be replaced with other spies.
Men followed his chariot out of the city, and when they reached the open roads to the east, crossing the thin branch of the Yaru River that separated Prasta from the State of Karuna, new men arrived, tradesmen with an eerie sense of pacing who managed to change their route in accordance with Keshan’s own.
They were followed through Karuna. By the time they reached the border, a group of men traveling as religious ascetics on pilgrimage were suspiciously close behind them.
Again Keshan wished he could just go through the Yashva kingdom, but human spies, no matter how tenacious, could not match the tracking ability of Firdaus’ Yashva cousins. They had a better chance of success in the human world.
Keshan and Chezek detoured off the main route to Pagdesh, instead heading northeast along the narrow, winding roads of the State of Marshav. As soon as they were convinced that they had temporarily lost their trackers, Keshan sold the chariot and purchased two horses instead. He and Chezek loaded them down with the goods for the Parans and left before sunrise. The rest of their journey seemed free of spies, but they still took extra precautions once they reached the mountainous state of Pagdesh.
It had been years since Keshan had traveled this far north, and while he wished he had time to take in the sights, to see the towns and people he had only heard about, he had no time to spare. They crossed through herds of brightly painted cattle and flocks of sheep that scattered at their horse’s canter. They didn’t sleep in towns, resting past nightfall in secluded fields far from the sight of the road.