The Dragon's Blood, Ch. 7

RECKONING

Arjun lay on his side, looking out at the full moon in the distance. If he listened over the tireless crickets and chirping of bats he could hear the stream bubbling in the distance, the one by which Chinji's mother and true brother were buried. Normally they didn't come back this way, but Dhir insisted they visit his wife's grave one more time before departing for the north. He was there now, though it was too far away for Arjun to see him, even in the bright light of the full moon. Since yesterday the man hadn't spoken a word to him, or even so much as looked him in the eye.

Arjun rolled over on his mat to find Chinji was still sitting up, dressed in a short white shirt for bed just as he was. "Chinji," he called in a fragile voice, "if you leave me at the next town, I won't be angry with you. I promise I won't be a thief again. I'm older now, so maybe someone will give me work, and if not then I could—"

"We're not leaving you, Arjun," said Chinji. "You're our family."

"But your father said—"

"He's just upset right now. He doesn't hate you."

"But he put so much faith in me, and I let you both down. I'm not a merchant like you are, Chinji. I'm just a failure."

Chinji sighed. "Stop talking like that. You made a serious mistake with serious consequences, but you'll overcome it in time. What do I keep telling you?" Arjun could see the boy's smile clearly in the moonlight. "Arjun, you are someone very special, who has great value."

"But I—"

"I didn't stick my neck out for you when we were little kids just to throw you away now."

Arjun gave a weak smile. "Thank you, Chinji. You're a better brother than I deserve."

"I told you to stop saying things like that," Chinji chuckled, giving Arjun a playful whack on the chest with his palm. He sighed and looked further away, into the shadows of the trees. "My father's been gone a long time now. I hope he's okay. He's never wanted to come back this way before." He stood up and tugged at the lower hem of his shirt. "Maybe we should go check on him?"

Arjun sat up and hugged his knees. "You can check on him. He doesn't want to see someone like me."

"There you go again," Chinji sighed and held his hand down to Arjun. Arjun tried to ignore it at first, but then gave in and accepted it, and Chinji helped him to his feet. The two boys began to walk barefoot across the wet grass, moist with evening dew. When they arrived at the grave site, Chinji's father was nowhere to be found. Chinji stood with his hands on his hips. "Now where'd he go?"

Arjun looked around. "I don't see him down at the river."

Chinji nodded. "He must be further over that way."

"Maybe he just wants to be alone?"

Chinji began to fidget. "Actually, Arjun, I've kind of been worried about my dad lately."

Arjun blinked. "What do you mean?" He could tell from Chinji's voice that his brother was very worried.

"He's gotten really sloppy about his ledger lately. The account books will say we have one sum, but then I'll tally up all our rupees and we won't have as much as it says we do. It's like he's forgetting to write things down." He began to lead the way forward. "We better try and find him."

The two continued walking further along beneath the trees until they came to a place where the stream bulged in a wide turn and the vegetation was especially thick. "I think I hear voices," Chinji whispered. "Is someone else there?" They crept closer, through the foliage and undergrowth, until they came out the other side. There Dhir stood, some distance before them, his form clearly outlined by the moonlight. Across from him, a good twenty or thirty paces away, was another man in a long cloak, his face hidden in hooded shadow. Chinji pushed Arjun to the ground and the two held still while their hearts began to pound inside their chests.

"Fifty thousand," they could hear Dhir call. "I can't offer anymore than that." Though his voice was clear and firm, if the boys had been too much further away it would have been lost in the sounds of the night and rushing stream.

"I told you already that wouldn't work with me," the hooded man called back in a calm voice. "I'd like to keep my reputation for finishing what I say I'm going to do. It just pays better down the road, you see."

"How about our spices?" the merchant offered. "I'll let you take your pick. If you take them back to the Grand Bazaar they'll still fetch a hefty price. Not bad money for no investment and a single day's ride."

Arjun could just barely hear the hooded man chuckle as he shook his head. "Tell me, merchant. How many did you manage to buy off without a fight? Not a whole lot of them, I'd assume, given your battle scars."

"Five, I think," Dhir grunted. "Not that it's any of your business."

The hooded man began to stroke his chin. "On second thought, maybe we could work something out. You don't happen to have a daughter, do you? Because if you do—"

"I can assure that, even if I did, you'd have a blade sticking out the back of your neck sooner than you could touch her."

"Only your sons, then?" The hooded man shrugged. "I'm afraid that's not quite the same. Those two didn't look like they'd gain me much on the slave market either." He drew his sword. "Sorry, merchant, but I'll be needing that head of yours."

"Why is your dad fighting?" Arjun whispered.

"I don't know," Chinji whispered back. "Is this what's really been happening all this time?" He began to nudge the pieces together in his head. "You don't think the lord in that land we saved you from has been sending bounty hunters after us all this time, do you?"

Dhir gave a sharp harrumph, oblivious to Chinji and Arjun's musings. "Very well then." He drew his own sword, its bright blade gleaming in the moonlight. "Let's get this over with."

"Gladly, old man." The hunter dashed forward, slashing at Dhir's abdomen. The merchant skillfully dodged the first blow, stepping to the side, and then blocked the follow-up. Arjun covered his eyes and turned away, unable to watch. Each clash of their blades sent another shiver down his spine.

"He'll be okay, Arjun," Chinji whispered. "He's always come back before."

"I can't stay here!" Arjun blurted out in a hushed tone. Without thinking, he jumped up and began to run away through the brush, stirring up a great deal of noise.

Dhir turned to see the commotion—thinking perhaps the hunter had an accomplice—only to find the two boys. "Chinji! Arjun! Get out of here!"

Instinctively, at the sound of the man's voice Arjun stopped and turned just in time to witness the deed. With his opponent's focus elsewhere, the hunter took a single step in, jammed his sword into the merchant's belly, and then stepped back again. Arjun and Chinji cried out together in horror. The merchant stumbled, but the hunter did not let up. He thrust his sword again, and then again, and then one time more.

Arjun fell to the ground, cradling his head as Chinji ran forward. "All my fault. It's all my fault. Everything is all my fault." He heard footsteps in the grass just in front of him and looked up, expecting to see Dhir, expecting the man to reveal everything was okay and to chide him for nearly getting him killed. But it was not Chinji's father that stood there. It was the hooded man, blood-tainted sword still drawn.

"Your distraction proved rather useful," the man said dryly, "but I'm afraid I'll be taking your hands with me."

Arjun did not understand. "My hands?"

"A trophy for Grand Duke Vena," the man replied. "It's rather amusing, actually. Most people have a price on their head, not their hands."

"Stay away from him!" Chinji shouted, now at Dhir's resting place. The boy stood, his father's sword in hand. Although Dhir had not taught them much of swordplay, they had been made to practice every so often to point that they were, if nothing else, adequate.

The hunter was not at all impressed, however. He pressed the edge of his sword against Arjun's neck to make sure the boy didn't try anything, then peered back over his shoulder at Chinji. "Don't worry," he called, "I'll get to your hands in a minute." He took a dart from his vest pocket and tossed it across the field. It was too dark for Arjun to trace the projectile's arc, but he could see it glisten just as it pierced Chinji's breast. Chinji shouted and stumbled, holding his hand up to the wound.

Before Arjun could act, the hunter shoved him to the ground with his boot against his chest, using his other foot to pin one of Arjun's arms. Arjun could hardly breath and feared that the man's weight would snap his arm in half. Using his one free hand, he did his best to beat the man away, but it was of no use. As the hunter prepared for the first severing blow, all Arjun could think about was how if Chinji had not stood up for him that day, both Chinji and his father would still be perfectly safe and happy without him. He squeezed his eyes shut, bracing for something that should have happened to him five years ago.

"You again!" the hunter growled, staying his hand. Arjun opened his eyes and crooked his neck as best he could to see Dhir standing at Chinji's side, a hand resting on his son's shoulder. "How are you still alive, old man?" the hunter grunted.

The merchant ignored him for the moment and looked down at his son. "Chinji? Chinji, are you okay?"

"It hurts, dad," Chinji replied in a wavering voice. "It hurts so much." With that he fell forward into the grass.

Dhir did not reply. Instead he reached down and took his sword from Chinji's hand, then stepped forward. Arjun could see the merchant's face clearly. Even the rage Arjun had witnessed the night before was nothing compared to what he saw now.

"Tell me, old man," the hunter called, "what's your secret? You should be dead already."

Chinji's father pulled a glass phial from his pocket and held it to his lips, quickly downing its liquid contents.

The hunter nodded. "I see, so that's how it is. But an elixir like that doesn't come cheap, does it? I doubt even a merchant like you can afford it so easily."

"I've had to give up some luxuries here and there," Dhir admitted.

The hunter gave Arjun a swift downward kick to the crotch and stepped back as the boy curled up into a ball. "Even so," the hunter said, "such a concoction merely eliminates the pain for a time. You may be able to ignore them for now, but your wounds remain. Face it, you won't make it through the night, old man."

Dhir readied his sword. "That no longer matters to me. Someone like you could never understand." The merchant shot across the field like a wind. The hunter held his sword up to block the blow and bind the merchant's sword, but he quickly found himself outmatched. Arjun was in too much pain to see what happened after that, but he could hear their shouts and the clash of their swords for what seemed like an eternity. And then, all fell quiet. Still holding his crotch in agony, Arjun began to unfurl, hoping to soon discover who had won.

He sat up with a shout as a face suddenly appeared before him. It was Dhir, kneeling beside him. "Are—are you okay?" Arjun whispered. He had never seen so much blood in his life.

The man's eyes narrowed. "Arjun, you... you are..." He slumped forward and lay motionless on the ground.

"Hey, get up!" Arjun called, shaking him. "You can't leave Chinji here like this! You can't—" No. It was only right. Chinji was gone too, so there was nothing left here for the man. Arjun clutched his chest, sniveling. He was a horrible substitute for either son. He knew exactly what Chinji's father had meant to say to him: "Arjun, you are the one who should have died."

He curled up on the ground in a ball, convulsing in tears. "It's my fault," was all he could think to say. "It's always my fault. If I hadn't tried to run away like that. If you hadn't needed to save me. If only I hadn't even been born! Everything is all my fault!" He felt a hand on his shoulder and looked up. "C-Chinji!"

His brother nodded. "Didn't I tell you never to say anything like that?"

Arjun sat up and embraced his brother, squeezing him tight. "I'm sorry, Chinji! I didn't mean it! I promise never to talk like that again! Please don't die!"

"Ouch!" Chinji exclaimed, gripping his chest. "Arjun! Be careful, it still hurts."

"I-I'm sorry!" Arjun shouted, pulling back. He hung his head. "But your father..."

"It's okay," said Chinji. "I already know."

Arjun fell to the ground, weeping. "Chinji, what have I done? What are we going to do now?"

Despite the heaviness in his heart, Chinji gave a smile. "We're going to keep on living," he said.