A/N: Hey peeps, sorry for taking so long to update. I’ve been booked with school work and I’ve found little time to work on this. I’ve been spending time just adding tidbits and plot ideas though when I’ve found and extra ten minutes of class or so. I’m getting character sketches down too, for reference to myself and maybe to post on another site later.

Whoot-whoot! Go single reviewer! Wow, you get the ‘first and only’ review award. It come with a big thank you. Here it is: Thank you! By your request I’ve added a list of unfamiliar terms to the end of the chapter for you and everyone else so I don’t confuse people. I don’t know why I didn’t think of it. Thanks for the suggestion!

Well, I hope everyone that does read this enjoys the second chapter. Finally the hot, steamy lemon that we’ve all been waiting for. Yeah, not really. You know you want it though. So here you go and don’t forget that terms are at the end of the chapter. If you still can’t understand the definition, just look it up on wikipedia.

Ekam Sat - Chapter 2

Stones in the Ground

To live is to choose. But to choose well, you must know who you are and what you stand for, where you want to go and why you want to get there.

Kofi Annan

Jagat watched the dark form slip around a corner, heading for a palace staked at the top of a small hill. Setting his jaw, Jagat determined himself and sprinted around the back way. He had spent so much time convincing himself that this was the right thing to do, if even for just himself, that he could feel a numbing excitement to get the deed over with. His hands trailed to his waist, fingers slipping deftly into the metal rings of his bagh-nakhs and lifting the hooks from their holding place at his belt, pushing the weapons as far up his fingers as possible so his hands were still fully functional. Smiling grimly as he rounded the final bend, Jagat paused to let his eyes asses the side of the palace. He couldn’t tell if his target had already gone in, but he very well couldn’t march in the front door either way. The back route would suffice.

The palace was only two stories high, so Jagat found little trouble in scaling the wall to land lightly on a balcony. Pushing the tapestries aside with two fingers, he scanned the interior to find the whole room empty. The silence was pressing and, coming fully into the room, Jagat could almost taste the tension surrounding the area. He wouldn’t be surprised if his target had already invaded or made himself known. Keeping his feet light and quietly upon the hard floor, Jagat tip-toed as fast as he could down the hall.

There was a clatter downstairs and some panicked voices. Jagat pulled himself into a silent go jog but soon realized to his dismay how very large the palace actually was. It may have been short, but small it was not. Jagat had already passed seven rooms and was on his second hallway. Even so, he had found no sign of life... or stairwell for that matter. Frowning, Jagat was about to go back and investigate some of the rooms more closely when a movement ahead caught his attention. Somebody had just darted into a room at the end of the hallway. Finding that he may have already become lost, Jagat distantly hoped the person ahead would hurry downstairs, giving Jagat a clear trail to follow. However, upon reaching the room the figure had gone into, there was quite a surprise.

Jagat stopped short and straightened, watching the stout man bustle about the room then turn to leave. The man gasped at the sight of Jagat, but only confusion reached his expression when their eyes met. Jagat laughed at the seeming irony of the situation. “I certainly wasn’t expecting you here,” he said.

Hastin fumbled for the right words. The only coherent sound he formed, though, was a muttered, “Huh?”

“I wasn’t expecting you,” Jagat repeated out of courtesy with a short bow that could have been mistaken for mockery. “I didn’t think you dealt with this kind of crowd.”

“Well, I usually don’t,” Hastin replied a little indignantly after regaining his wits.

“What are you doing here then?”

“I should ask you the very same,” Hastin seemed a little more than agitated.

“I’m on business,” Jagat replied as his thumb ran lightly over one of the sheer hooks of his bagh-nakh almost as a reminder of what he still had to do. “Well then, what about you?”

“I’m waiting for someone,” Hastin replied, then added, “But not you, of course.” Hastin’s expression became pensive, as if debating with himself. Jagat opened his mouth to inquire those thoughts, but several shouts downstairs interrupted both of them. “Oh!” chirped Hastin as he scrambled for the door. Jagat was close on his heels, hoping he hadn’t missed his chance yet again.

Thankfully, the staircase wasn’t much further and both men practically leap down the steps three at a time. One flight, two flights... they were making quick progress. That is, until Hastin came around the final corner and promptly caught his foot at the base of a crouching figure. In hasty attempt to save himself and avoid injuring the child, Hastin did a kind of pirouette, barely catching himself on the edge of the last step, only to have Jagat’s colliding body sent them both tumbling down the stairs to the unforgiving floor below.

“Ack!”

“UMPH!”

Hastin lay sprawled face-down, his nose becoming intimate with the tile. Jagat just barely avoided being flattened, but managed to grip the last couple of steps with his heels and meet the floor with hands and a knee. Not checking to see if Hastin was enjoying the company of the ground or not, Jagat leapt to his feet and bound down the tall hallway where the noise had come from.

Jagat was halfway down the hall before Hastin had managed to lift his head and realize exactly what kind of business Jagat was on. “Wait!” he called out desperately after the receding figure. “Let the brahman be killed! Jagat!”

Jagat wasn’t listening, for his heart had already crept up his throat in hopes his target had not escaped. Up ahead he could see several forms engaged in combat and Jagat puffed a breath of relief. The call had been too close and now, whether his victim had finished his own job or not, Jagat would finish his. Now.

By this time, most of the guards were realizing that today just wasn’t their day. Three of their own men already lay lifeless on the floor, two more in the front now struggling with the cloaked figure. The speed and precision of the cuts and jabs made toward the guards were frightening with accuracy, but the squeals of Nirav to be killed now or later just barely helped the remaining guards stand their ground. The day only grew worse when the second figure appeared, tendrils of broken cloth whipping through the air as it leapt into the battle and successfully diverted the attention of the first figure. For the guards, who now stood dumbly as an audience to a new one-on-one dual, there would be interesting stories to go home with and exaggerate about.

Jagat caught the back of the dark material on his first downward swipe, but missed the flesh below. He had no time to debate if that was his own fault or not, for his target was quick to react and long blades were swinging out to meet him even before the covered head turned in his direction. Jagat had enough experience to duck before his target’s blade’s could separate his head from his shoulders. Both mercenary and assassin, now fully aware of each other, backed slightly, assessed the situation - seemingly ignoring everyone else in the room - then came in quickly with fatal blows that were equally deflected.

Metal rang in rhythmic chimes as Hastin stumbled into the room, gasping and his eyes wide with worry. This was not supposed to be happening! He looked from assassin to assassin, sometimes loosing track of who was who in the blur of pitch clothing. The larger one, Jagat, wielded his bagh-nakhs expertly, striking out swiftly and raising his knuckles to block every swing of his opponent’s katars, which seemed just as deftly handled. Still, Jagat was the quicker, taking more strides in, forcing his opponent back three to four steps before balance would be caught again. Hastin danced on his toes, wringing his short fingers anxiously, not sure what to do.

The guards were not sure what to do either. Nirav was at even more of a loss. They all seemed transfixed, none of them willing to interfere with their own piece, all of them hoping the two strangers would kill each other at the same time. The one with the shorter weapon was winning, though, pushing the other closer and closer to the high wall. The katar-wielder did not appear to be keen on giving up however. He fought back, heavy breath matching dangerous strikes of the thin blades. Further and further the other pushed. It would be over soon, the guards knew.

Jagat grinned to himself under his hood. He could taste bloody freedom on his lips, nearly his to consume and frolic within. One, two, three more steps he drove forward, parrying offensive maneuvers and reaching around defenses. He heard several more tears in his target’s clothing, the collarbone and half an arm exposed. In all honesty, he had expected this to be harder; expected his target to be stronger and bigger and even quicker than he. But then again, this was a human he was fighting and the victory very well should be easy. And he should certainly be enjoying himself as his target’s back suddenly met the hard wall with an audible thud. Only he wasn’t enjoying this at all. As much as he hated rules, the murder of a human was not under Vivek’s jurisdiction and definitely not under Jagat’s own. Tales of old repeated in the back of his mind like a mantra that he knew and feared all too well.

Jagat paused and studied the human before him, face still obscured, weapons still held at ready. It would be over quickly - all of it. He would be free. But if the promise was a lie...

“Let me see your face,” Jagat growled low, clenching his weapons in his wet palms.

The human hesitated and Jagat repeated the command. A human hand made to reach up toward the rim of the hood, but fell down in a sudden forward blow toward Jagat’s face. The tip of the katar nicked Jagat’s cheek as he jerked back and saved the rest of his face. Just as quickly, Jagat had the human assassin pinned, strong hand twisting opposing wrists until the katars dropped harmlessly to the ground with an echoing clatter. Closer now, he could smell the hidden fear of his victim. It was the smell of his own chains being broken and he felt a laugh bubble horribly in his throat. This truly was cause for his beloved kastane, but as he reached with one hand to the carved hilt a voice burst angrily throughout the room.

“Jagat, I order you to stop.” Hastin took two firm steps into the room.

Jagat felt his vile giddiness contort into frustrated fury at having something so close at hand torn away. He felt a stake of primeval longing drive through his chest and rip his stomach in two. Five seconds too late he had doubted himself and lost everything.

Hissing, teeth bared in rage, Jagat took the human before him, now defenseless, and threw him to the ground as far from himself as possible. A scream ripped through Jagat’s throat that shook the courage of every man in the room as he advanced threateningly on Hastin, chest heaving. Tears of anger and defeat glistened in his bright eyes as he threw his hood back, baring his wrath in the unnaturally calm face of Hastin. “You cannot do this to me,” Jagat’s voice was a whisper spoken like the embers at the base of a dangerous flame. “I was ordered to kill him.”

Hastin grunted, his own features uncomfortably stern. “Oh? By whom?”

“That is none of your business!” Jagat spat, burning to bury the hooks of his bagh-nakhs into serene face.

“It may not be, but I have countered it. Best you tell me in case your former orders outweigh my own,” Hastin could see the desperation behind Jagat’s anger. “Of course, I wouldn’t think you would throw a fit such as you are now if that were the case. But it isn’t, so you will follow my orders.”

Swallowing, unfamiliar with addressing Hastin in such unfriendly manners, Jagat forced his head to bow and kept his voice as steady as he could. “And what would you have me do, my lord?”

“Protect her.”

“Excuse me?” Jagat glanced up, irritation evident in his tone. Hastin did not meet his eyes, however, for he was looking over Jagat’s shoulder to the human that was almost killed for freedom. Jagat slowly turned, doubting himself and Hastin and the whole world. His eyes widened in disbelief.

The hood had fallen back from the human assassin’s face, revealing soft, feminine features that could not be mistaken for a man. Full cheeks pulled into a set jaw. Two wide eyes framed in thick lashes stared contemptuously up at Jagat. Dark bangs were plastered to a sweaty forehead as a delicate hand came to wipe them to the side. He... she did not look happy.

Jagat did not know what to think. It should have made no difference the gender, but his whole perspective had been shattered. A woman? He should have realized it the second he was put against her strength and had seen the lack of muscle for any man with fighting finesse.

Jagat was so disrupted from the realization that he had forgot what Hastin had originally said. “Wha... what am I suppose to do?”

“Protect her,” Hastin replied rationally, as if it made sense to everyone else. “Just for a while.”

“But why?”

“It does not matter why. Oh-!”

One of the guards, apparently tired of the suspense, had stepped forward to eliminate at least one of the problems. The girl on the floor seemed too flustered to notice the man stalking up behind her and the band of steel rising above her head. Jagat turned and by order of command and under the influence of his own inner anger and frustration, dove forward over the girl without thought. The hooked blades above his knuckles sank hungrily into the guard’s neck as he was too slow to evade the pounce, and though Jagat was not aiming to kill the man, the metal claws bit into the jugular with its own thoughts of vengeance. The guard went down silently, the flesh of his throat slicing itself completely on Jagat’s still hands.

The world came to a crashing halt, sending Jagat to his knees next to the corpse. Warm blood - the irony of what he craved just minutes ago - ran into his palms and dripped heavily onto the glistening tile. Air would not come and he gaped like a fish. He had just killed a human without orders, without thought, without proper justification. The action was inexcusable, despite the authority of Hastin’s vague orders.

For whatever reason, Jagat was expecting his life to suddenly blink out or be pulled from his struggling body, and although the world dimmed at the edges, nothing dramatic happened. No lightning struck, no godly form descended from the heavens.

In the distance Jagat could hear Hastin, could feel a heavy hand on his shoulder in another body, far away. He still could not breath. Turning, body numb, ears deaf, Jagat saw the dark eyes of the woman he had almost destroyed. Then he saw Hastin - so far away - saying something, expression concerned. At last, when air could still not find its way into his lungs, Jagat collapsed into what he thought was his final descent.

.BREAK.

He dreamed of bamboo forests and mossy stones buried in the soft ground. He dreamed of red, furious winds that only he could catch. He dreamed of swirling galaxies and their odd, tangy flavor. He dreamed of freedom and he dreamed of himself, watching his own body escape his mind and chase the winds without him. Inside he was trapped within cold fingers, watching the bamboo and the stars slip away into a green mess. He dreamed of an eternal prison and dying and falling without leaving the ground.

“Jagat. Wake up.”

Jagat eyes slowly peeled apart, the edges burning with the dried crust of a long sleep. Dim lights hovered around him as tiny candles set onto shelves and tables, the smoke making the small room stuffy and slightly uncomfortable.

Jagat raised a shaking hand to his brow and traced his fingers lightly over the perspiration that had gathered there. He could hear the shallow breath in his chest and vaguely wondered what had happened. Pushing himself into a sitting position, Jagat looked around and saw the patient form of Hastin sitting quietly on the floor next to his mat. A girl sat slightly behind him and Jagat recognized her soft features. In remembering her face, he recalled everything that had happened earlier until he had fallen to the floor. Already he could feel his heart speeding up. “Hastin-” he began.

Hastin raised a hand to silence him, then leaned over to a near table, grabbing a small cup of water and handing it to Jagat. He watched as the shaken boy finished the water in two gulps and then nearly dropped the cup with his quaking hands. Hastin retrieved the cup before it could fall and watched helplessly as Jagat sank his forehead into a palm despondently. “You were following a command,” Hastin consoled quietly.

“You know as well as I do that that means nothing.” Jagat looked up at Hastin, then to the girl staring curiously between them. Jagat’s expression suddenly became fiery. “You have condemned me!” he hissed back to Hastin.

Hastin furrowed his brows and snorted defensively. “I did no such thing. I left plenty of room for you to work your own method. It isn’t my fault you’re an impulsive moron,” he jested. Jagat reached to throw the covers from his waist, but Hastin stood first and shook his head. “This is not my problem anymore Jagat. I’ve been around long enough to know you were playing a foul game to begin with. Had I not given you the order and had you not killed that guard, you would’ve killed her,” Hastin indicated to the girl still sitting on the floor. “You explain to me what difference it would have made and then I will choose to take responsibility or not.”

Jagat’s face contorted, then dropped. His eyes traveled to the girl, her face now stern with uncertainty and irritation. “Who is she?” asked Jagat dryly, not taking his gaze from the girl’s large, brown eyes. His mind swam senselessly and his vision was out of focus.

“Kalpana,” the girl answered for herself.

“Kalpana...?” replied Jagat to her directly. “Is that it? No other name?”

“None.”

“You must have some surname.”

“I said I have none.”

“Then what was your father’s?”

Kalpana drew an irritated breath, narrowing her eyes. “Bhat.”

“A holy name,” Jagat raised his brows, humoring himself and the girl. “Your father was a brahmin?”

“Hardly,” she replied darkly.

“Hm.” Jagat let his eyes close quietly as he shifted on the sleeping mat. When he opened them, he was looking at Hastin. “When will it happen?”

“When will what happen?” inquired Hastin, though he knew by the defeated look in Jagat’s usually keen eyes.

“You know what I mean.”

“I do.”

“Then tell me.”

Hastin breathed a deep sigh and reseated himself. “I cannot say for sure. It has been centuries since the conduct was broken-”

“There aren’t many left to break it,” cut it Jagat, almost to himself.

“- and times have changes so much. Already the interpretation of the Vedas has shifted rather dramatically.”

“But that is an innocent transition. Natural. That is the way of humans to move through time.”

“True,” replied Hastin slowly, thinking. “You are not so different you know.”

“You compare me to human?” Jagat laughed incredulously.

Hastin let his gaze shift to Kalpana, who looked utterly and helplessly lost. Hastin coughed lightly. “I dare not speak in terms to reveal either of our positions,” he spoke out of the corner of his mouth to Jagat, wiggling his eyebrows toward Kalpana. Jagat’s only reply was the questioning raise of one of his own brows. Hastin sighed. “I cannot say for sure, for I’ve hardly had any contact outside the palace for the past months, even less outside the city... but there is unrest in the, uh... higher planes.”

“Since when? I’ve heard no such rumors in or out of the city.”

“You do not have the ears to hear as well as I and, well, you know me. I come and go fairly quickly. To be fair, you should know I took a short trip while you were sleeping.”

“You aren’t that quick,” reasoned Jagat.

“I am when you take a two-day nap.”

“Two days?” Jagat gasped, rising suddenly from the mat, making his vision swivel. “How is that possible?”

“You tell me. Overexertion maybe?”

“Impossible, I hardly broke a sweat on the way to the palace.”

‘Stress then? It could be anything. You went into heavy shock as soon as you killed that man.”

Jagat swallowed uncomfortably at the words. “I would rather you just answer my question of how long.”

Hastin glanced again at Kalpana, who had apparently given up trying to understand what was going on and was fiddling with a hem on her beige salwar. Turning back to Jagat, Hastin remarked, “I’ve already told you that I’m not sure. I’ve never witnessed such punishment in person before. I would rather not, to be honest.”

“Then I am to sit and wait and beg for mercy?” Jagat’s tone was cold.

“If that is what you wish. But, if you would just listen, I’ve been trying to propose a possible solution. You keep cutting in though. Will you listen to what I have to say?”

Jagat grunted, crossed his arms, then nodded once.

“As I’ve mentioned, there is trouble elsewhere that may or may not effect what happens to you. At the very least, it will delay any probably punishment. A delay at all should be just what you need, though. I know a path for you to take to the east-”

“Are you suggesting I try to escape?” Jagat bit out a sharp laugh that was anything but humored.

Hastin growled. “Just listen! Where was I? Oh, yes. So you’ll take the road to the eastern shore, until you reach the city of Puri. There you will go to the Jagannath Temple and meet some old friends of mine. You do not know Jagannath so well, but he is a trustworthy choice that I am leading you into. If you’re lucky, you’ll arrive during Ratha Yatra. I’ll try to get there before you and explain, but if I don’t meet you at the shore, find Anna and ask her for temporary hospice. She’s generally understanding and I believe you’ve met her on a few occasions.”

“I have,” replied Jagat distractedly. “Why are you helping me? This all seems a little too well planned.”

“What can I say, I’m a great organizer.”

“I was thinking improviser.”

“That too.”

Jagat and Hastin sat in silence for a few moments, Jagat taking his time to absorb everything that had happened recently. He looked over to Kalpana, but she was gone. Hastin followed his gaze and grinned. “Quiet, isn’t she?”

“Indeed,” mumbled Jagat. “Where did she go?”

“I’ve not a clue.”

“Where are we?”

“Her house. I have to admit, she was a little reluctant to let you in after she almost had her throat torn out at the palace. She’s a good person, though. Heart’s strong, if a little heavy.”

Jagat blinked slowly, his gaze out of focus again. “Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why did you stop me? Why did you tell me to protect the girl? Why are you helping me now?”

“Jagat, I have the talent to clarify your whole life. I could let you walk the future blindfolded up the side of the tallest mountain unhindered. I can tell you all sorts of things. I can tell you every last question you want to know, down to the tiniest detail. But I will not.”

“Why?”

“You ask ‘why’ too much,” Hastin snorted. “I will not tell you because if you were meant to know, you would not have been born with eyelids. Boulders are in the ground to trip you when you cannot see. Without your eyes you would fall over and over. But if there were no rocks, you would not need your eyes. And without your eyes, you cannot see, even when you stop walking to enjoy the view.”

Jagat’s brows furrowed and the corners of his lips dropped. “You never make much sense when you have something important to say, you know that?”

“I do. But let that concept be reflected in the words I have just said. If I wanted you to fully understand, I would have made it more elementary. But then you would not have to think, and there would be no purpose to having a mind.” Hastin grinned as Jagat’s frown deepened, then he made his way casually to the door. “The Destroyer has been disturbed recently. I doubt it was all your doings, but I also know that he saw what you have done. If you’re going to make your run, you’d better do it soon. Think about it,” Hastin said softly, “journeys help reason our reasons; open our eyes to walk over the stones that we ourselves set.” Hastin stepped through the open doorway and reached to close it behind him. “Get some more rest, Jagat. Give me your answer when you wake.”

Jagat lied back down, his thoughts a jumbling mass of guilt and anger and indecision. He heard the soft bump of the door closing and shut his his eyelids he could only see himself and green bamboo and stones buried in the ground.

The feeble light of the half-moon filtered through the small window, swaying between shadows and falling onto the bed where Jagat sat upright, his face buried in his hands. Dreams he could not recall plagued his sleep and he wasn’t sure if he had gained any rest or lost some between panicked gasps upon awakening. His fate lurched uncomfortably in the cavities of his thoughts, coming into view every time he tried to clear his mind. Everything was shifting without warning. That was a lie, he knew. All along he had been searching to escape his servitude, but it was only at the chance to do so that his life had been shaken so drastically. To think of the choices he had now made the life he had only a couple days ago seem so fruitful in his memory. But those days were gone and the present seemed a hundred years passed. He was condemned once by his ancestors, doomed now by his own faux pas.

His head really hurt.

The paths to take now had been cut down to two, each a blinding contrast to the other. To wait in submissive patience for retribution, or to take flight and seek his own cover in the wilds of society. His life had been spend bound to his unspoken promise of compliance, to do anything but left a cold, foreign hand clutching his innards. He was used to walking beaten paths and for as much as he wished to sidle off the trail, to do so by his own charge - without the consent of the those in higher standings - was deeply troubling. Still, he reminded himself, either of the two choices led to the same results. He could think of no worse punishment than he already deserved. It would be honorable to sit and wait with a bowed head. In the course of the night, though, the inner morals of Jagat had been revealed to himself and it was only to this mirror reflection that he could admit he was not an honorable person.

Jagat listened to the stillness of the night outside his window. His shadow fell to the bed behind him, waving in and out of the rumbled sheets. It offered no condolences for his own wavy thoughts, as if a mirage was only his conscious speaking to him in the uncertainty of starless nights. Jagat’s fists clenched the sheets, pulling the wrinkles and watching his shadow glide over the fabric. The movement was chilling.

Just two days before he had craved the freedom of life and decision. He observed his choices again - one severed, the other a misty illusion of possibilities. How odd that the latter felt uncomfortably like the freedom he had imagined for himself. To take the chance; to run between the worlds outside the reach of his superiors...

A dog bayed outside somewhere in the distance. The night was so still, Jagat had to move just to feel the world breathing around him. Standing, he shuffled to the nearest wall to catch his spinning head. His eyes focused on the bed where his shadow once sat with him. Now he stood in the dark of the room, his shadow gone and all around him at once. The embrace was cold, but it was himself. The choice he knew was his to make sat still like the air, only himself alive in this world to breath it. Cold air, revivingly fresh, covered him and he knew what he had to do. Standing on his own two feet, the dizziness of days in bed passing behind his firming resolution, Jagat wandered aimlessly to the door.

Hastin sat in silence by a table with a single candle lit when he heard Jagat’s door creak open. His expression was solemn when the groggy man came toward him and sat down. “Have you made your choice?” Hastin whispered.

“I have.”

“Good, we will leave tomorrow and I’ll take you to the river. It’s not a hard path to follow, just light vegetation, which I’m sure you will find no difficulties navigating through.”

“I have not even given you my answer,” Jagat protested.

“I already know your answer. It was simply a matter of time for you to find it yourself-”

“But what if I wanted to stay and wait?”

“You were never that kind of person, Jagat. And if that had been your choice, you wouldn’t have left the room - you would have stayed in there and moped until the time of your ending,” Hastin smiled without humor, folding his hands on his lap as he leaned back in his chair.

Jagat felt his resolution start to crumble. He would leave, of that he had no doubt, but the slight euphoria of his own choice began to slip away as Hastin predicted Jagat’s thoughts with shocking accuracy. Even if it displeased him to think so, Jagat knew he wouldn’t have left the room if he hadn’t had the choice. “You will meet me at Puri then?”

“Mm-hmm,” Hastin replied.

“I will leave now,” Jagat said, rising to his feet. “It will be safer in the darkness and silence.”

“Not now,” replied Hastin, waving his hand dismissively.

“Why not?” Jagat seemed miffed.

“Kalpana is still sleeping.”

“What does it matter? If you mean for me to thank her for the hospitality, surely I could just rouse her for a moment. Or you could tell her in the morning.”

“I believe I gave you an order, Jagat, but perhaps two days’ sleep has faulted your memory. How do you expect yourself to watch over the girl if you are frolicking on the outside of the world and she’s here?”

“You really meant it then?” Jagat said quietly, disbelievingly and sat back down. If he had any of the flame of defiance he had felt earlier, he would have said no and continued on his way. Still, these orders were by the very same who prompted Jagat to find an escape. At least in gratitude he should watch over the human girl. But Jagat still did not understand. “Why must you have me do this?”

Hastin sighed long, as if suddenly tired. “Kalpana is important to a friend of mine. I’ve already mentioned that there are troubles about and I am needed. I fear Kalpana’s life lays in jeopardy and I will no longer be around to watch over her.”

“But why must you? What is wrong with your friend?”

“He is a very busy man. I promised to keep watch over Kalpana until things have settled down and he can return to the city. Ironically, I could not foresee my having to do anything in response to what has been going on,” Hastin chuckled slightly, then turned serious. “I now need your promise to keep her safe until I can take responsibility for her. But I know you, Jagat, and your promises are worth about as much as a dead elephant. I mean that as far as you can go both ways, depending on the circumstances,” Hastin added quickly at Jagat’s frown. “The only way I can trust you with a task like this is to not put you into a compromising position and instead have you under direct orders, which I honestly apologize for. Don’t take it lightly Jagat. If something happens to Kalpana due to your carelessness, I can guarantee that it will be someone far less agreeable waiting for you at Puri.”

“Blackmail then,” Jagat growled, but did not protest.

“Well, I’m really just telling you the darker side of things. Just think of it this way: your life can only go up from here.”

Jagat sat quietly, brooding. Hastin closed his eyes, but did not sleep. He watched Jagat with his ears, listening to him shift in his seat, then rise and go outside. Dawn was coming close and the road ahead would bring far greater and more dangerous lights than the sun.

Kalpana swung her bag over her shoulder, the bulk of it thudding against her back. She squinted against the early sun as she watched Hastin and the stranger she had so unwillingly housed for two days step outside and shut her door behind them. The idea was crazy that she should so readily put her trust into the hands of another, but she had no other lead. Nirav was the end of her rope and she had been planning to squeeze ever last inch of confession out of him to point her somewhat in the right direction. She knew the man was no threat, but she had been taught how to clean up after herself, even if it left a mess for others.

Had Kalpana known that Hastin was in the palace, she would have sought him out first. He was friend enough to guide her, but his appearance had been too late. Well, she reasoned, it could have been later - if not for Hastin’s intervention, she would have made a fine corpse indeed. That would only upset her uncle even more and, as he’d jested plenty of times during her upbringing, he would make sure the afterlife was sour as a monkey’s breath. It was his quote of keeping her in line. Any other family would have found enough spite in a threat to tempt death alone, but Kalpana grew under the guidance of a man with a vaguer mind for conformity. In the ways she had learned from his teachings, death would be the easy way out. Better then to menace on the other side of life.

Kalpana smiled thinking about her uncle. She had not seen him for a very long time, a year perhaps. The closest relation now was Hastin, but he was only a family friend. Indeed, she had not seen Hastin since childhood, but she could still clearly remember his hand opening before her, candied figs glistening like a child’s gems in peace-offering for every visit. She understood well enough that she was a very aggressive child and anything less than sweets would have deserved the silent treatment. Spoiled some would call it - her uncled called it professional bartering.

That was the extent of most of her memory of Hastin, only a grinning face was left to fit the stories her uncle told of him. In her mind - even now, past the childhood embellishment of heroes on chariots who only lived in the hearts of poor, jealous men - Hastin was valiant. Even if his figure didn’t fit the image of men who walked the borders of death to defy the gods and be with their love, Hastin was an image of joy and admiration that lived past childhood into the present. Still, when she should be enjoying the time she had with him - for he had divulged a great deal about her uncle in the last couple of days - she couldn’t help but long to see the comforting face she had grown up seeing every day.

Kalpana reasoned that it was word of her uncle that had spurred her hasty decision. If Hastin spoke the truth, then this strange man knew where to find her uncle’s adversary. Even now she could taste the sweetness of her uncle’s pride when he would learn that she had stepped up to the challenge and taken down a corruption that even he couldn’t find. The thought alone gave her new energy that only seemed to be sucked out of her every time she looked at the stranger.

He gave her the willies. Her mind couldn’t erase the image of his contorted face and choking growls each time he had forced her a step back with his bagh nakhs two days ago, lusting for her life. His eyes had gleamed for the few moments she had caught them, piercing and furious. She did not fret over much, but the thought of traveling alone with a madman wrung the zest out of her like a soaked terry cloth. Swallowing as the two men approached her on the firm dirt path, Kalpana reasoned that to survive this single task would reward her bragging rights enough. “Good morning, Hastin,” she remarked, nodding politely to one and avoiding the other’s gaze.

“Good indeed,” Hastin replied with a reassuring smile, folding his hands behind him. “I’d like to get the show on the road as soon as possible, but I don’t think we’ve all been formally introduced.”

Kalpana’s smile faltered and she glanced quickly to the other man, but he was rudely facing the other way. “Fine,” Kalpana sniffed indignantly. “But both of you already know my name, so I don’t think it’s me who needs to do the introducing.”

Hastin raised his brows comically and looked to the aloof man standing beside him. “I think she means you, Jagat.”

Jagat turned around slowly, an arrogant expression stretching his face as if trying his hardest to make the whole idea seem far below him. He kept his eyes to the dirt and the corners of his lips as far down as he could. “Well, you heard him. My name is Jagat.”

“Jagat? That’s it? No last name?” Kalpana teased derisively.

“No,” retorted Jagat bluntly.

“Is that so. Then what was your father’s?”

Jagat looked up this time, flaming eyes meeting hers. Kalpana caught her breath, for not even the sun could make a man’s eyes shine so amber. She couldn’t help but stare as his glare shot needles at her. Finally Kalpana managed to blink and turn herself to Hastin, who seemed presently occupied with a piece of skin he had picked off somewhere. Kalpana wrinkled her nose, wondered what she had gotten herself into, and cursed the species of man and their unnumbered indecencies.

It was going to be a long trip.

A/N: Gotta love them boyz eh? Please leave a review! If I had an cup titled “reviews” I’d shake it at you... and you know how tempting it is to feed the homeless.

bagh-nakhs: or “Tiger Claw” fits over the knuckles or under and against the palm. The device is usually all metal, with two or four steel claws protruding out, meant to slash through skin and muscle.

katars: also known as a Bundi dagger, is a type of short punching sword; It is notable for its horizontal hand grip, which results in the blade of the sword sitting above the user's knuckles

kastane: a saber-like sword with a slightly curved blade and a carved hilt usually in the form of a creature/monster and inlaid with jewels

salwar: traditional dress worn by various peoples of South Asia. Salwar are loose trousers

Ratha Yatra: one of the major Hindu festivals associated with Lord Jagannath held at Puri

dhoti: the original and timeless garment of men's wear in India. It is a rectangular piece of unstitched cloth wrapped about the waist and the legs.