The Hooded Man

Hrithikesh sat on his heels in front of the painted statue of the Goddess Zindagi. He pulled up the hood of his green vestment, lowering his head in submission and closing his eyes in prayer. His education was complete. Thirteen years of training and a monastic life in the cloisters built behind the temple, fighting his own angst and learning to control his emotions only to reach today – and the choice of his life.

The temple was cool and Hrithikesh wondered if he'd miss the shadows of the mighty statues and the sound of prayers and religious hymns, or the noisy canteen of the monastery, the sunny courtyard where he trained, and the long corridors. Would he miss his companions? Though they'd been part of his life, he'd been too introverted to call them real friends.

The memory of a dimpled smile weighed heavily on his decision now.

A choir of monks intoned a song of praise for Zindagi, Goddess of life. Hrithikesh listened to the glorious verses and took a deep breath as the echo of the last note faded out within the somber corridors of the temple.

I'm ready.

When he opened his eyes, he saw the abbot and the high priest staring at him from between him and the colorful sculpture. He inhaled the musty smell of incense and candle wax, and then he bowed his head again in respect for whatever gray hair they had left, since the abbot's head was completely bald.

"Your training is complete, Hrithikesh," the abbot said, breaking the silence. His deep voice was loud enough to leave an echo in the great chamber of the temple.

Hrithikesh nodded, gulping down his emotions. The abbot, the head of the monastery, was slightly older than his father, and he saw him as his true mentor. The abbot's voice booming in the lecture hall or soothing in the quiet of his office had always enthralled him, giving him balance and knowledge that he badly needed. He'd do his best to emulate the wise man – except for one thing.

He could feel his companions behind him, like guardians looking over him, something they'd done for the past thirteen years. Yes, he'd miss the abbot, the monks and lay brothers that had been his family for so long. But he couldn't stay, and it was time he said it out loud.

"Zindagi is everywhere," the high priest said, staring benevolently at him. His voice sounded frail compared to the abbot's. "There are two ways to honor her. Protect life, or give life."

"You will have to make a choice, now, Hrithikesh," the abbot continued. "Will you be a monk or a father?"

Hrithikesh licked his dry lips before looking up at the two men from his lower position. They really towered over him, although not as much as the statue behind them.

"I want to go back to my hometown," Hrithikesh said, his voice a little shakier than expected. "I do not wish to be ordained at this time."

The abbot's lips twitched in a repressed smile. So he knows, he's always known.

Hrithikesh cleared his throat.

"I promised someone I'd come back for her," he explained with a steadier voice. "But if she hasn't waited for me, I shall return here and be ordained."

"If you choose fatherhood, you won't be ordained," the high priest replied. "Monastic life implies prayer, meditation and chastity."

"I want only one woman, and if I can't have her, I'll gladly take the chastity vow," he assured them.

"How old were you when you left?" the abbot asked, with a twinkle of mischief in his dark eyes. "Twelve, thirteen? And how old was she?"

"Too young to ask for her in marriage," he answered with a sigh. "I promised her I'd come back, but I wasn't expecting to spend thirteen years here. I know that was what I needed for my education and my life, but..." He sighed.

"She was always on your mind."

"Yes."

The abbot and the high priest exchanged a glance.

"Very well," the high priest said. "You will go back to your hometown, and if your sweetheart has married someone else, you can come back and be ordained. Remember to always respect Zindagi in all her forms and don't use your training to take lives. You are sworn to protect life, either as priest or as layman."

Hrithikesh bowed touching the ground with his forehead in acceptance, and then the abbot offered his hand to help him to his feet. He'd been still so long his legs and knees hurt.

Even after he stood, the bulky abbot continued to hold his hand, and placed the other on his shoulder.

"You were one of our best students, Hrithikesh. Your father did well to send you here. You are smart and learned to control your dark side better than others. You will be sorely missed. May Zindagi be with you."

"Zindagi be blessed," he answered with a sudden lump in his throat.

The abbot smiled and pulled him into a bear hug.

"Have a safe trip," he whispered before letting go.

Hrithikesh went back to the monastery to pack, fighting tears.

***

Before leaving the capital, Hrithikesh stopped by his father's shop to say good-bye to his family.

"So you're going back to Leland," his father said with a shallow sigh. "Give my best to Uncle Raju. Tell him we miss them all."

"I will," Hrithikesh promised. "I might come back here, eventually."

"We know you left your heart in Leland." His mother ruffled his dark hair with a tender smile. "But if she didn't wait for you or you can't find work up there, please come back. I'm sure Agharek is full of noble families looking for tutors who came out of the monastery of Zindagi."

"Do you have money for the trip?" his father asked, wrinkling his brow.

"Some brethren have gathered a few coins as farewell gift for me," he answered. "And I will be  rowing on the river barge for passage, food and shelter up to Leland."

He hugged both his parents and his younger sister, who would inherit their father's pottery shop. She'd always been good with clay, while he'd refused to follow in his father's footsteps. Which was why his father had suggested he enter the monastery and get an education.

Hrithikesh had hated him then... but his father only wanted the best for his family. Hrithikesh might have never understood why they had to leave Leland, but he had quickly learned that the monastery of the capital wasn't a punishment. It was the best thing his father could do. The humble potter couldn't handle his son's energies, so the abbot stepped in.

Over the years he had learned to respect his parents again, even if he still couldn't understand them. Leaving his family didn't hurt as much as leaving the monastery that had been home for so long.

He went to the fluvial port and found the barge headed north, where he was given a seat on the rowing benches. Since they were going against the current, the permanent crew had hired a few extra people to help, and allowed passengers to do some of the work – which suited Hrithikesh, since chatting with a stranger kept his mind busy. Laboring under the sun with the other men would make the journey go faster. At the monastery he was always so busy, and he didn't think he could sit idly on a barge for a week.

He stared at the white buildings of Agharek, and the river shining under the sun next to it, for as long as he could after they left the pier. He glimpsed the bell tower of the monastery and the pointed top of the temple, and then his vision blurred with tears, so he kept his eyes on his feet, concentrating on rowing.

It was only later that night, when he lay on a pallet in the common room of an inn on the river shore, that he thought back to what he'd left. The faces of his family, the monks and lay brothers, the instructors and students kept changing in a kaleidoscope that included flashes of that dimpled smile.

He looked forward to seeing her again, to discovering what a wonderful woman she must have become, but mostly he wanted to know if she had waited for him. The beautiful child he'd left might not have taken his promise to come back seriously, and so many years had gone by... Sometimes he feared his journey would be in vain.

But he had to do it, if only for his peace of mind. He fell asleep remembering the camaraderie of the monastery and his fellow students in the cloisters and halls behind the temple of Zindagi.

***

The seven days necessary to go upriver went quite fast for Hrithikesh. He rowed half-naked most of the day, ate with the others and retired to sleep in common rooms. The jungle went by, interspersed with small villages where the barge stopped to load or unload. He could hear animal calls and glimpse colored feathers among the lush vegetation, but never saw a wild animal in full, although one night he heard a tiger roar in the distance.

The only place they stayed two nights was Lakresha, a town midway between Agharek and Leland. Upon leaving the barge, a woman stopped and addressed Hrithikesh while he was gathering his things.

"Will you be staying in town?" the female passenger asked. She looked wealthy enough to be either a merchant's wife or a lower noblewoman. Though she was older than him, she was still very beautiful. Her black eyes stared at him with the confidence of a higher-class woman who had the freedom to talk to a stranger of a lower class.

"Uh, no, I'm headed for Leland, my lady," he answered with a curt bow. He'd met a few women like her in the streets of Agharek – married but bored and looking for younger men to have some fun with.

"What a pity," she purred. "So you're here for two nights only?"

He pulled his tunic over his sweaty body, wishing she'd stop staring at him with such open lust.

"Yes. I'd be grateful if you could point me to a public bath," he answered politely.

"I could offer you my private bath chamber..."

"Thank you, my lady, but no."

She sighed and got off the barge. A fellow rower slapped his back with a mischievous grin.

"You should have gone with her!" He winked, and then disembarked.

Hrithikesh shrugged and followed him to the pier. He used his time in Lakresha to find a public bath and wash away the filth. The pools were divided between men and women, but there were areas where half-naked members of both sexes could meet. Women stared openly at his muscles, and soon the boldest ones surrounded him.

"What is your trade?" a brunette asked in the sweat room, where towels covered all lower parts, leaning forward with a propitiatory smile.

"I've just come out of the monastery of Zindagi in Agharek," he answered, trying to ignore the glares of the few men present.

The girl giggled. "You don't look like a monk!"

"I'm not a monk. Yet. I may never be," he explained patiently.

"Didn't you have a monastic life so far?" another asked, tilting her head to the side.

"Yes and no. I could go out, visit my family, meet girls... I did have some free time."

"So you've known women," an elder woman said, wriggling her eyebrows.

"Yes, it was part of my education."

When he went back to the inn for dinner, he sat with the rest of the crew and rowers. In spite of being completely dressed, the maids eyed him with mischievous smiles – much like at the public bath.

"Would you like someone to warm up your bed tonight?" one whispered in his ear.

"I think it's very hot already, thank you," he replied averting his eyes.

She pouted. "Why do you reject everybody? One might think you like men."

He stared at her, shocked. "I don't! How do you know I reject everybody?"

"I saw you at the baths this afternoon. No one could touch you – and you are handsome." She sighed.

"Ah." That explained why they were so taken by him. "I'm sorry, but I'm going to Leland to marry the love of my life, if that makes more sense..."

She grinned. "Yes, that's a better answer! Good luck, young monk!"

"I'm not..." She was already gone, serving another table. He snorted in frustration. Luckily it was time to go to sleep. And then back on the river to row – and then he'd be in Leland!

***

"Leland is in sight."

A breathless whisper, but Hrithikesh turned to check without missing the rowing tempo. His fellow rower was right, his hometown was fast approaching. Invigorated by the thought of almost being there, he rowed while his heart opened to hope – and doubt.

What would he find? Would he be able to locate his uncle's shop? He'd dreamed of coming back so often, but suddenly he was afraid. Had things changed much? He couldn't remember the face of the old governor, but assumed he must be dead by now. If he glanced behind, he could see more buildings approaching, so the town was growing in size and population.

Finally they reached the pier and Hrithikesh got off the barge, saying good-bye to his travel companions. He headed for the main street, looking at the buildings around him – they had aged, much like him. The city felt the same but different. Mixed among the familiar were new things that gave him a weird feeling.

The map of the city was still quite clear in his head, but a reference point – a fountain where his mother used to do her laundry – had been replaced by a brand new two-story inn with stables. He found the street where his uncle lived, but the shops looked different – some had gone out of business and new artisans had taken their place – so he asked an old woman weaving a basket seated outside of her door if Raju's pottery shop was still there.

She pointed him two doors ahead and he entered the shop, leaving the sunny street for the dark interior. Still, he felt immediately at home. He didn't know if it was because he actually remembered Uncle Raju's shop from his childhood, or because it was so much like his father's.

Aunt Jasmine sat at the counter, looking much older than he remembered. He bowed in greeting and asked how she'd been.

Surprised to hear her name from a stranger's lips, she straightened her back.

"I'm fine." She stared at him with a puzzled expression. "Do I know you?"

He smiled and nodded. "Hrithikesh, Auntie."

She gasped in recognition.

"Oh my... of course, you have Sajid's smile!" She rose from her stool to take a closer look at him. "Gods, you've grown up," she added, noticing he was now a full head taller than her. "Or maybe I've shrunk, who knows."

"It's been... years," he said. "You're still most beautiful. How is Uncle Raju?"

"Still working very hard, with the help of your cousin Kiran. When I think that your father had to leave because two potters were too much for this town..." She shook her head with a sigh.

"It expanded," he admitted. "So you think Father could come back? He could leave the shop in Agharek to Kareena and her husband..."

"No, it's not a good place for business," she said. "Lots of extra taxes... I thought he sent you for help."

"I'm not a potter, Auntie."

"Oh! You better tell that to your uncle, then. Are you here to stay?"

"Yes, Auntie, at least for a month or two. If I can find a job and my bride."

She chuckled. "Bride, huh? Weren't there any nice girls down at the capital?" She patted his cheek. "No worries. I'll prepare a pallet for you in your cousin's room. Your uncle is in the workshop, you remember where it is?"

He nodded and headed for the back door that led to a courtyard. On the other side of the courtyard was the workshop of Uncle Raju, a square building with a flat roof that faced the two-story house and shop.

Unlike his father, Uncle Raju had lost all his hair. But he immediately recognized the visitor.

"Hrithikesh! You look just like Sajid at your age!" The potter rose to give his nephew a hug, careful to keep his clay-covered hands away from Hrithikesh's clothes. "What brings you to Leland?"

"I have completed my education and I'm here to pick my bride." Hrithikesh looked fondly at his father's brother. Uncle Raju still had that happy-go-lucky disposition he remembered so well. "You look good, Uncle. Father misses you."

"And I miss him! Remember Kiran?" The potter pointed at a young man who was staring intently at Hrithikesh.

"I wouldn't have recognized him if I'd met him in the streets," Hrithikesh admitted. "He was still a child when I left."

"So were you!" Uncle Raju said with a chuckle while Kiran smiled.

"I was thirteen!" Hrithikesh protested. "He was ten!"

Much like her – too young to think about marriage. Has she waited for me?

"I'm sure Kareena has grown up too," Kiran said. "Is she married?"

"Yes. You?"

Kiran's smile vanished. "Not yet."

"What kind of education did you have?" Uncle Raju asked, washing his hands in a basin of clean water set on a little table away from the workstation.

"When father realized Kareena was a better potter than I'd ever be, he suggested I go to the monastery behind the temple of Zindagi."

"So poverty was still an issue in Agharek." Uncle Raju nodded, thoughtful.

No, my anger was an issue he couldn't handle, Hrithikesh thought. But he wasn't angry anymore,  and his uncle probably remembered the shy boy who had left Leland fifteen years earlier and assumed the most obvious reason young men went to a monastery.

"I wish we had something like that in Leland too," the potter continued with a sigh. "A temple or a monastery that could give further education to our youth. We could use it because the basic education of an artisan isn't enough to thrive anymore."

He guided his nephew outside into the courtyard, where a stone bench rested in the shadow of a neighbor's balcony. The pair sat together and Uncle Raju took out his pipe and lowered his voice.

"Although Kiran is not made for that. You were always very clever. I'm glad Sajid sent you to the monks. What did they teach you?"

"I've learned to read, write and calculate. I've read the classics, and the philosophy and history books available in the monastery library." Books had become his second true love and he was grateful he'd had the opportunity to find them. When he lost himself in epic tales of gods and heroes, he forgot how powerless he was in his own life.

"Your mother had a very bright mind," Uncle Raju said. "Unfortunately she couldn't afford to study. Here in Leland things were never that easy. She was the one who suggested they move to the capital when surviving here became too hard."

So that was the reason. He'd never discussed it with his parents, since he was too young to question their decisions. And he had blamed his father, as head of the house, for the move. He mentally asked for forgiveness, though he'd have to apologize properly when he went back.

"I've learned to appreciate Zindagi in all her forms. I think I was made for that life," Hrithikesh said, thoughtful. The training had boosted his confidence, given him self-respect and taught him control. It had definitely been a good thing.

"Still, quite a monastic life." Uncle Raju sighed. "Did you manage to get to know women?"

"Yes, Uncle, that was part of the training." Hrithikesh rolled his eyes. "Why is everybody so concerned about my supposed virginity? I'll know what to do when my sweetheart agrees to marry me!"

"I see." His uncle chuckled. "So you've come to propose. Let me guess... Might it be the blacksmith's daughter who cried for a week after you were gone?"

Hrithikesh's heart missed a beat. "She did?"

"Of course that was fifteen years ago," Uncle Raju continued, grinning from ear to ear.

"Oh. So she's married now?" he asked, fearing the worst. He even choked on the last word and gulped. In spite of his backup plan, he'd never really considered the possibility. He felt crushed and stared at his uncle, hoping for the right answer, his heart thundering in his chest.

Uncle Raju stared at him with a twinkle in his eyes before leaning forward to whisper, "No." Then his smile faded away. He leaned back and averted his eyes. "But she says she'll never marry, and I can't blame her. Much like Kiran."

"Why, what's wrong with getting married?" Hrithikesh asked, puzzled.

"Nothing, in Agharek. But in Leland..." Uncle Raju shook his head with a sigh.

"What about Leland?" Hrithikesh insisted, worried. He had never thought she might not want to marry at all. His stomach tightened as he tried to figure out a worst-case scenario. Going back to the monastery and taking the vows suddenly sounded awful.

"Things have changed here, Hrithikesh. There's a new governor, and he has the right to lie with your bride before you. Unlike his predecessors, he enforces that right. I've only seen him pass up on widows who remarried or really ugly girls. All the young brides have had to sleep with him first. That's why there are no more virgin brides in Leland. Whenever a match is decided, it's consummated before the actual wedding."

"Goddess!" Hrithikesh was shocked. "There must be dozens of bastards around!"

Fatherhood was another way of honoring Zindagi, but not by sleeping with other men's wives.

Uncle Raju shrugged. "Pareevash knows what she wants. She's been driving her father crazy with her refusal to marry. But if you take her away, you may stand a chance..."

Hrithikesh's heart filled with hope.

***

The next morning, Hrithikesh woke up excited. Kiran had promised to take him around the town to see how things had changed and meet people.

Aunt Jasmine sent them off with a couple of errands and Kiran guided Hrithikesh through the cobbled streets. Away from his parents' ears, Kiran was very chatty and asked many questions about life at the capital in between greeting people and explaining the changes that had taken place.

"Everybody looks so grim and gloomy," Hrithikesh said when they reached the market square. "Are things this bad in Leland?"

"Taxes are heavy on artisans and small traders," Kiran answered with a shrug. "The governor pays the king's taxes with our money and keeps amassing wealth. He built a brand-new palace over there, see?" He pointed at a big building towering over the smaller houses. It was made with the local gray stone, but had three floors, mullioned windows and sculpted balconies. Though not as opulent as the royal palace, it still stood out.

"Does the king know his governor is building a kingdom within the kingdom?" Hrithikesh asked with a frown. He knew in Akkora the government was in the hands of local governors, but maybe this particular man relied too much on the fact that Leland was closer to its neighboring kingdom, Rajendra, than it was to the capital.

"No," Kiran answered. "Lord Kibriya sends regular taxes and has either killed or bought all the spies. Not to mention the people who died building his palace. He's a vicious man, Hrithik, I doubt the king could do much against him. He knows how to handle everything – he acts humble to the powerful people and acts powerful to the humble people."

Hrithikesh pursed his lips, thoughtful.

"I was in a monastery, not at the court, but I saw something like that in the temple. Unlike the monks, who considered themselves brothers, the priests had their own little court, and the abbot showed us what happens on a grander scale at the royal palace and every government building in the country. The high priest was a good person, but before him there was an ambitious man who shouldn't have been ordained, especially not to honor Zindagi. He was removed by his own priests."

"So did the abbot tell you how to do it?" Kiran asked.

"Use words first, and when those fail, hit a little harder – without killing anyone. But that's our secret technique, and I won't disclose it for now." He grinned at his cousin. "Besides, I'm not here on behalf of the king, I'm here to rekindle my relationship with my hometown! I see so many new faces around..."

"To replace the dead," Kiran grumbled.

A squadron of horsemen came out of the palace at a gallop and people quickly jumped out of the way.

"Recognize any?" Kiran continued, sarcastic. "Most of your friends joined the Governor's Guard."

"Really?" Hrithikesh was puzzled. Why artisans' sons would become guards was beyond him. Their future was in their family trade, unless that trade went out of business. But before that, the family would move away, like his father had done fifteen years earlier.

"The first was Lokesh, who decided he didn't want to be a blacksmith," Kiran said. Hrithikesh's heart missed a beat. "Since he was so popular, many followed."

"So who's going to be the next blacksmith?" he asked. Pareevash wasn't suited for the job. If her brother gave up...

"Lokesh's cousin, Farhan. He traded place with Pareevash. She was apprenticed to her dressmaker uncle who sent his son to learn the blacksmith's trade."

Hrithikesh sighed in relief. Pareevash had become a dressmaker. If she was any good – which he was sure she was – she'd have plenty of work at the capital. Maybe she could even become the personal dressmaker of a princess.

"There she is." Kiran pointed at a fabrics vendor. "Her uncle must have sent her for supplies."

Breathless, Hrithikesh stared at the woman bargaining with the seller for two pieces of cloth.

Zindagi, she's beautiful! He couldn't take his eyes off of her.

She had grown into a fine young woman – not too tall, with the right curves at the right places... And then she picked up her purchases and smiled at the vendor. There were those dimples again. After fifteen years, her smile was still the same.

His childhood crush exploded into full-blown love at first sight. Waiting all those years... she was worth coming back for!

Kiran elbowed him, but he moved towards her instead.

"Hello, Pareevash," he said, blocking her way. Though he gave her his brightest smile, she frowned.

"What do you want?" she snapped.

"I came back, as promised," he replied, feeling butterflies in his belly. It seemed so weird to talk to her again, like something from a dream... "Sorry it took so long..."

"I'm not waiting for anyone." She tried to pass, but he grabbed her arm. "Hey, hands off!" she protested.

"I was told you cried for a week when I left." He was disappointed by the response so far. Had his uncle exaggerated? "Is it true? Do you remember that I promised to come back? Because for the last fifteen years I never stopped thinking of you..."

Her eyes widened in surprise – the same baby blues he could never forget. "Hrithikesh?"

He nodded with a grin and let her go, relieved. She dropped her purchases and threw her arms around his neck.

"You came back!" she giggled. Then she pulled away and composed herself. "But why?" Her smile vanished as she picked up her things. "This snake-hole isn't worth coming back to."

"But you are," he replied, helping her. They both stood at the same time and she flashed another dimpled smile at him.

"You're sweet, Hrithik. But you should have stayed away."

He was too stunned to reply to that, so she walked around him and left him standing in the street.

A chuckle reminded him of Kiran's presence.

"I didn't know you came back for her," his cousin said. "I almost stole her from you years ago, but I wasn't aware you had a claim on her."

"I guess she didn't believe me." He sighed. "But I did promise her I'd come back and marry her."

"Obviously it took you too long." Kiran shrugged. "Now you'll have to woo her all over again!"

That was another thing he hadn't considered. His only thoughts had been that she'd either be waiting for him, or she'd have married somebody else. This turn of events was unforeseen, but interesting. And she was worth it, so why not. Courtship, talking to her family, and then...

"Who's your friend, Kiran?" The two mounted guards were about Hrithikesh's age, and the one who'd spoken had a never-forgotten cockiness that told his identity before Kiran's reply.

"It's my cousin, Lokesh," Kiran snapped. "Don't you recognize your old friends?"

Lokesh scoffed. "He always preferred playing with my sister or my dumb cousin Farhan," he retorted. "Where have you been, Hrithikesh?"

"In Agharek, praying to come back," he answered. Not to the bully now in front of him, but to his sweet sister and "dumb cousin" who'd been his only true friends way back when. He'd been a dreamy, reclusive boy the others usually shunned. That was why Lokesh's younger sister and their supposedly dumber cousin gave him more attention that Lokesh himself.

Hrithikesh had fallen in love with Pareevash because she'd never minded his shyness – unlike everybody else. And he didn't think Farhan was dumb, just different, much like himself. He must head for the blacksmith's shop and see how Farhan had been as soon as possible.

"And now you're back. Still want to play with my sister? She's a tough one. You can ask the guys, including Kiran, here." Lokesh sounded sarcastic.

"I'd take her without a dowry," he said, ignoring the sarcasm. He had learned to reply confidently to useless provocations. He might have blushed and stammered when he was younger, but now Lokesh didn't intimidate him anymore.

"Good for you, but is she going to take you?" Lokesh asked. His companion – Hrithikesh thought he recognized Ali, Lokesh's best friend since childhood – chuckled. "Let's go, Ali, Hrithikesh is not a threat."

Hrithikesh congratulated himself for recognizing the other young man, while Kiran snorted.

"Someone should kick their asses," he muttered. "Let's go, Hrithik, my mother is waiting for us."

Hrithikesh was beginning to think his military training might turn out useful after all. It wasn't common knowledge, but Zindagi's were warrior-monks. He was sworn to protect life and never shed blood, hence the military training. Lots of physical exercise balanced against the studies and prayers. It had given him the muscles women had admired on the way to Leland that now were  carefully hidden under layers of clothes.

And it was just as well. There were too many unhappy people in Leland and too many bullies. Maybe someone should do something about it, and it would be better if they didn't know who it was...

***

Hrithikesh spent the next few days reorienting himself in his hometown. He found old acquaintances, and a lot of disgruntled artisans and traders, who wanted to move away but didn't have the money, or the guts to leave everything behind like his father had done. Packing a family and its few belongings and moving didn't guarantee a better life.

He also caught glimpses of Lord Kibriya, passing on his horse or ordering people around, usually with Lokesh in his wake. Pareevash's brother always smirked when he saw him, but he ignored the provocation. Thank Zindagi, Lokesh never saw him talking to Pareevash.

Hrithikesh also looked for a job since the courtship of Pareevash was slow-paced. She was very busy at her uncle's shop, and finding time to talk to her during his first days in town proved almost impossible.

It was actually easier to stop by the blacksmith's shop and chat with Farhan. His one and only childhood friend welcomed him back with open arms, asked for news, looked dejected upon hearing Kareena was married, and surprised that Hrithikesh hadn't found a suitable bride at the capital.

"Well, that's why I came back here," Hrithikesh confided as they stepped away from the forge to let Farhan's uncle work. Farhan was bare-chested and sweaty, and welcomed the pause as he guided Hrithikesh to the well for a quick drink.

"Ah, I see." Farhan brightened. "So you're keeping your promise."

"You remember it?" Hrithikesh couldn't believe his ears. And this was supposed to be the "dumb cousin"? Farhan had recognized him immediately, remembered very well all of his family members and was even present when he'd said good-bye to Pareevash, so he'd heard the promise. And Lokesh still called him "dumb"?

"I do." Farhan winked. "Although I know you didn't come back for me."

Hrithikesh chuckled nervously. "Well, now I can say I missed you," he said, giving him a bear hug. "Did you talk much about me in the last fifteen years?"

"We did at first." Farhan grinned. "Me and Pareevash, of course. But then life goes on, we met other people... You know I had a crush on your sister?"

"I do now." Hrithikesh smiled fondly at him.

"Well, you can't wait forever... And then I met other women..." Hrithikesh knew his friend was happily married now, and had two children.

"I met a few myself, but my mind was set on Pareevash." He sighed. "And I don't seem to be able to get through to her."

"She's very fond of you," Farhan told him. "But she's probably stuck with her memories. She considers you an elder brother or something, much like fifteen years ago."

Hrithikesh moaned in desperation. No wonder she still treated him like when they were children. As if time hadn't passed for her as well.

Talking to Farhan felt as if years hadn't gone by, and Hrithikesh realized how much he'd missed having a true friend. He was glad to have found Farhan who seemed to be the only one without complaints against Lord Kibriya in spite of having a very pretty wife.

"Does the governor have children?" Hrithikesh asked one night, while sitting at his uncle's table after the evening meal. He knew Lord Kibriya was married, but since he didn't have access to the palace, he hadn't met his wife or his family.

"No, but his brother does," Uncle Raju answered. "Why?"

"Do you think they might need a tutor?"

"Um... they might. You can also try the other noble families..."

"I wouldn't mind getting closer to the governor himself. I might be able to help."

"With words?" Aunt Jasmine scoffed. "That man understands only the power of weapons."

And I can give him that, if necessary, Hrithikesh thought.

"We'll see," he said with a smile and a shrug.

He was lucky enough to be hired to teach Imran, the teenaged nephew of the governor who lived at the palace with his family. It was the perfect excuse to go there every day and see more of Lord Kibriya's behavior.

Imran was a bright student, but he preferred the sword lessons with his uncle to books. Since Hrithikesh had been there, he found a way to teach his pupil the more boring subjects in a way that entertained the teen so much, that soon Imran invited him to one of his uncle's social gathering to show off his new knowledge in public.

If Imran's parents were pleasantly surprised, his uncle scoffed and then ignored him.

"He thinks scholars are useless," Imran confided, a little disappointed.

"You shall prove him wrong, my lord." Hrithikesh sounded reassuring, but cold anger ran in his veins.

He soon lost all respect for the man who gave lavish parties for his friends while he nearly starved the rest of the town. In his head, Hrithikesh started using only the governor's first name, especially since Kibriya showed contempt for him, thinking him a scholar who couldn't hold a sword. The governor was so proud of his swordsmanship that he often boasted he didn't need bodyguards – and he didn't, since he was indeed skilled. Hrithikesh attended one of his pupil's lessons and saw how good he was.

A week after his arrival into town, Hrithikesh retired to sleep before Kiran and unpacked the last of his things. He sat on his pallet and studied them: a brass wheel – a throwing weapon borrowed from the Assassin's Guild – and a saber, plus the curved blade he had taken off the pole-arm, leaving the weapon disguised as a plain walking stick.

He reassembled it by sliding the blade into the wooden shaft and securing it with an iron peg that passed through a hole. He rose and cut the air in the room as if he were training again.

He could be the avenging spirit of the town. But for his safety and that of his uncle's family, nobody should know who he was. He removed the curved blade from his pole-arm and hid the weapons again in his pack.

He took stock of his clothes – spare tunics, another pair of pants and a night caftan – and pursed his lips. Too many garments hindered movement, especially the shirt, tunic and coat. The baggy pants were fine, but his upper body was hindered by the layered clothing. Pity he hadn't brought his training garb.

He picked up his hooded vestment – a temple garment he wouldn't use in the streets – and ripped off the sleeves. He also cut off the lower part, again for freedom of movement. It was a pity, but if he went back to Agharek, he'd get a new one anyway, since the green robe was the color of students and novices. He admired his work and then slid it over his naked torso, closing the two buckles – it was still loose enough to allow him to move freely.

To disguise his face, he grabbed a scarf and covered his mouth and nose. Then pulled up his hood and checked himself in the mirror. He looked fierce, and not monastic at all. He tried on the shoulder-strapped scabbard, unsheathed the saber and swung it a couple of times.

It will have to do. He tried some moves with both weapons and felt comfortable enough in the hooded vestment and baggy pants. Satisfied, he took everything off and hid it in his pack with the weapons.

Starting tomorrow I'll have a second, secret job.

Kiran came into the room as he was putting on his night caftan.

"I thought I'd find you in bed."

"I prayed a little," he lied. "But now I'm wrecked."

"So am I." Kiran yawned as he undressed. "Good night, cousin."

"Good night." Hrithikesh lay down and for the first time didn't fall asleep with Pareevash on his mind.

***

The hooded man appeared first in the market square, forcing wealthy customers to pay the right price for their goods. His pole-arm was usually enough of a threat, although in some cases – where the rich buyer put up resistance – he had to show the other end of the shaft, where the seal of Goddess Zindagi was embedded.

The usually hidden seal was imbued with a minor spell that left a burning sign on the skin. Nothing dangerous or life-threatening, but a mark of Zindagi's wrath for all to see – although Hrithikesh never struck on a person's bare face or hands.

Next, he stole the guards' pay and left the symbol of the goddess inside the safe. Many artisans and other needy citizens found small purses of money at their doors.

"He's an avenging spirit!" the lower class whispered with awe.

"He's a bandit!" the noble and wealthy screamed. "Catch him and throw him in prison!"

The governor seemed only mildly irritated, as if the hooded man were just a nuisance. He paid the guards from his own coffers and sent them on the hunt.

But the hooded man was everywhere and nowhere, seeming to vanish after every stunt or tease or robbery. He moved so fast, many thought he was a spirit. He was nimble and strong, and when he swung his pole-arm, he looked like a real warrior, even if he never took a life.

Ten days after the hooded man first appeared, the tax collector was expected any day and the coffers for the king were still half-empty. The upper class gathered at the palace to protest, since they'd have to contribute extra, if they didn't want the king to show up and deliver true justice.

Hrithikesh knew the palace quite well by now, and since his pupil was in the great hall with his parents and hadn't requested his presence, he decided it was the right time to change into the hooded man and take on the governor himself. When he squeezed in the room, everybody was talking at the same time, and Kibriya was losing his patience.

"Silence!" he shouted. The noise became a grumble, then slowly stopped under the governor's glare.

"I know you're angry," Kibriya continued. "Do you think I'm happy? A single man is stealing our money and my guards are too stupid to catch him!"

He glared at Lokesh and a few others who stood to the side with blank expressions.

"I won't pay you next month if you don't find him and bring him to me," he threatened.

"We've never seen his face! How can we catch him?" Lokesh protested, too outraged to be afraid to argue with the governor. Hrithikesh thought Lokesh was a fool. Brave, but a fool. He dropped his tunic to the floor to wear the hooded vestment.

"He's just one!" Kibriya exclaimed, furious. "How can he always get away from all of you?"

Because I'm better. Hrithikesh wrapped the scarf around his head and pulled up the hood before slowly moving along the wall towards the governor, keeping the pole-arm low. Everybody was riveted and didn't think of looking his way. The small crowd covered him from the governor and the guards facing him.

"You're a bunch of incompetents! I'll hire real mercenaries from now on!"

"And where will we find them, and how will we pay them?" Kibriya's brother protested.

"Why don't you sack that useless tutor for your son and help me pay real soldiers?" Kibriya snapped.

"Oh, more unemployed people is not going to help, governor." Hrithikesh was close enough to Kibriya now that when he pulled up the pole-arm like a lance, the point of the blade touched the governor's throat.

Kibriya stiffened as he came forward, and everybody shrank back in fear.

"You'd better tell your guards to drop their weapons," Hrithikesh continued, the curved blade ready to cut Kibriya's throat.

Some weapons fell to the floor, but Lokesh and a couple of others held their sabers ready.

"Do you really think these incompetent fools can protect you?" Hrithikesh asked.

Kibriya clenched his teeth and narrowed his eyes, calculating, then said, "Drop your weapons."

Lokesh snarled, and then all weapons clanged on the tiled floor.

"Thank you. Now you should apologize to these poor people who are just doing their job. You should have trained them better if you wanted them to be more professional."

Hrithikesh knew Kibriya trained his men himself, and not with blunt blades. Some probably hadn't survived the training, since he was a very skilled swordsman. He now sat with his hands on his knees, but Hrithikesh knew he must not allow him to unsheathe his sword if he didn't want a bloodbath.

"Lokesh, take the governor's sword and throw it with the rest," he said bluntly. Ordering Lokesh around after being bullied by him felt good, but Hrithikesh kept his emotions in check.

Lokesh unwillingly obeyed. As he was about to drop the saber with the others, he suddenly turned and attacked.

Hrithikesh swiftly turned the shaft of the pole-arm, whispering, "Tum zinda ho" to activate the spell on the seal, and hit Lokesh with it.

The seal burned Lokesh's skin near his navel and he was thrown back with a scream. Before Kibriya could move, the curved blade of the pole-arm was at his throat again. Ali rushed to Lokesh's side, but the young man was only dazed, not wounded.

"You're fast," the governor said. "Who trained you?"

"Not you." Hrithikesh smirked behind his scarf. "Now you will behave, governor. Stop abusing your men and your citizens, or I'll come back."

Kibriya scoffed. "And then what, you'll take my life?"

"I don't kill. But I might put the seal of the goddess on your forehead. You'd be marked for life for all to see."

"Bastard," Kibriya muttered through gritted teeth.

"You have enough money to pay the due taxes without starving this town," Hrithikesh continued. "Either you become the good governor we all wish we had, or you'll be a marked governor forever. Your choice."

He looked Kibriya in the eyes, waiting for a quick nod of acknowledgment.

When it came, he said, "Thank you." Then he took the blade away from the governor's throat. "Nice talking to you."

He sprinted for the window and jumped out: Before anyone realized it, he was gone. He wasn't happy to have burned his future brother-in-law, but Lokesh had asked for it.

Now we'll see if words are enough or if I need to be tougher...

He removed the blade from the staff and took off the scabbard, wrapping the weapons in the scarf. He put them under his arm and lowered the hood as he mingled in the crowd. Time once again to become the "useless tutor" and hear how his pupil would relate the encounter.

***

Imran had said the only person in the palace who wasn't mad at the hooded man was his Aunt Babra, so Hrithikesh decided to pay a visit to the governor's wife in his masked identity.

He climbed the wall of the women's garden with the help of his pole-arm, then entered Lady Babra's apartment. She was seated on a pile of cushions with a book in her hands. She seemed startled to see the hooded man in her rooms, but not frightened. She gasped and her eyes widened at the sigh of him, but she didn't call for help.

"My lady." He bowed respectfully. "Forgive the intrusion, may I have a word with you?"

"If you wish." She pointed at the carpet in front of her with a tentative smile.

He sat on his heels in front of her like he'd done in the temple of Zindagi for so long. She was older than him and of a quiet beauty not enhanced by jewelry or make-up. Even her fabrics were  plain for a governor's wife.

"How long have you been married, my lady?" he asked.

"Thirteen years," she answered.

"And no issue?"

"No."

"Does that bother you?"

"No."

"Does your husband?"

She shook her head. "I don't care what he does. We've been strangers for years."

"So why do you stay with him?" he asked, tipping his head to the side.

"What choice do I have?" she replied, amused. "In this society, a woman can only be three things. A wife, a whore or a nun. I chose the lesser evil. I'm married to a nobleman and have the freedom to pursue my interests, what else should I look for?"

Hrithikesh thought about Pareevash, who was still unmarried and fighting for her right to remain free. Lady Babra was right, though – sooner or later Pareevash would have to choose a man. Or a divinity. Being unmarried shamed her family.

"My lady, do you have any influence in the household?" he inquired, knowing sometimes noblewomen had more power than their husbands. He'd met one at the capital – she was beautiful and smart, and had her husband wrapped around her finger.

She scoffed. "Gods no! Everything I own is in these rooms and I don't see Kibriya very often." She smiled at him. "And don't worry, I won't tell him of your visit." She winked.

Startled at first, Hrithikesh bowed since she couldn't see his grin. "Thank you, my lady. Do you have any complaints?"

"No, I don't," she answered. "You have enough on your plate already. And you're not a spirit, even if you have a magic weapon. You're not invulnerable, nor immortal. Don't take on more than you can handle. I'd hate to see you hang in the main square."

"They won't catch me," he promised. "And I'll bring back justice to this town."

She nodded. "Try not to get killed in the process. Good luck."

He rose and left thinking highly of Lady Babra. Pity she didn't have more power at the palace. Unlike the courtesan who had seduced the king and become a sort of second queen, this woman had lost hold on her husband.

As he crossed the luxuriant women's garden again, he heard voices and recognized Pareevash's. Stealthily, he approached a portico where she was facing Kibriya. The lord towered over her, but she looked undaunted.

"I will not submit to your lustful needs, my lord!" she said, probably for the umpteenth time. "I don't care if my brother loses his job, he should have stayed at the forge anyway!"

Kibriya smiled.

"I like feisty women." He took her in his arms. "But you can't resist me forever."

"Take your hands off of me!" She struggled and tried to push him away.

He leaned to kiss her, but she turned her face, so his lips landed on her ear and neck.

Hrithikesh balled his fists and fought to control the boiling anger rising inside him. How dare Kibriya touch his beloved? The smell of jasmine around him reminded him of that one time in the dressmaker's courtyard when he'd tried to kiss her himself. She had stiffened as soon as he'd touched her and her smile had vanished, therefore he hadn't insisted and had let her go. And now the sneaky governor wanted to force himself on her? He should disembowel Kibriya for daring such an awful thing!

And then the abbot's voice reminded him to always control the powerful energy that was his anger, to harness it only for good deeds. He wouldn't behave like Kibriya. Violence called for more violence, and he was better than that.

"Let me go!" Pareevash tried to free herself. "Somebody help!"

"Nobody will come," Kibriya said looking her in the eyes. "Surrender now, and I won't hurt you."

"Never!"

The governor was about to kiss her again when the curved blade of the pole-arm slid between him and his victim, with the cutting edge towards his throat.

"You will not  force yourself on her," Hrithikesh said through clenched teeth. "Let her go and step back."

Kibriya gritted his teeth and obeyed, glaring as Hrithikesh came out of the hibiscus shrubs. Hrithikesh moved next to Pareevash, the blade still pointed at the governor. He chanced a sideways glance at the young woman beside him and saw admiration shining in her eyes.

He turned his full attention to the governor. "Don't you get enough with the young brides? Now you even want unmarried maidens? You are shameless!"

"And you are a fool trying to defend the last virgin of the town," Kibriya snapped.

Startled, Hrithikesh glanced at Pareevash who blushed.

Kibriya scoffed. "Or maybe you want her for yourself."

"I'd never force myself on a woman," he retorted. "Step back. And don't even think of coming after me. Or her."

He swung the pole-arm and Kibriya jumped back to avoid the blade. Then Hrithikesh grabbed Pareevash's hand and they both ran out of the garden and from the palace grounds. They didn't stop running until they reached the back alleys.

"Thank you," she said, still breathless, as he walked her back to her uncle's shop. "I hate that man."

"I still haven't found anyone who even remotely likes him," he replied with a shrug.

She trailed her fingers over his naked arm. "You are my hero."

He shivered under her burning touch. He almost unmasked in front of her – in the middle of the street – then remembered his mission.

"Take care of yourself," he said quickly, then ran away to resist the temptation to take her in his arms. That was lust, not love. He'd better keep his animal in check. If she was still a virgin, he couldn't show the worst part of himself to her first.

He still needed to woo her. Especially now that he knew that somehow – if she was still a virgin – she had waited for him. She'll be mine. In due time.

He went back to his uncle's and managed to slip to the bedroom without being seen by Aunt Jasmine. He removed and hid the blade of the pole-arm and put on his long-sleeved tunic, which covered his muscles, and the long cotton vestment of the tutor.

By the time he was ready, his heart had slowed down and he was in control again. He took a deep breath. Time to visit Pareevash as himself. She'd almost kissed the hooded man. Surely she could give him a chance?

On the way, he ripped one sleeve of his coat, and then he asked the dressmaker to repair it. As he suspected, the shop owner sent him to his assistant for such a menial job – he even got the impression Pareevash's uncle was aware of his trick and amused by it.

"Hrithik!" Pareevash sounded impatient. "You're clumsier than ever! How did you rip this?"

"I don't know," he apologized, taking off the shred garment. "Can you sew it?"

She snorted and took it, working quickly.

"Are you all right?" he asked after a short silence. She was usually chattier than this. Obviously the meeting with Kibriya and the hooded man had upset her.

"Yes," she snapped. "I can take care of myself."

"Are you sure you don't want a man to take care of you?" he insisted. "I know that an unmarried woman is weak..."

"You're sweet, Hrithik, but I don't think you'd make a good husband."

"Why not?" he asked, puzzled.

"You're too meek. You won't survive in this town. You should go back to Agharek." She looked at him, worried. "I don't want you to get hurt."

Going to Agharek had hurt him and turned him into a hateful boy full of anger. Leland still had a calming effect on him, in spite of all the bad things going on.

"I'm not going back to Agharek without you," he said with determination.

"My life is here," she replied, her tone serious. "My family is here, my first love is buried here..." She stared into the distance, dreamy. "Maybe the hooded man will clean up our city. We'll have a decent governor and no more bullies." She snapped back to reality and finished sewing. "Of course that wouldn't sit well with my dear brother," she shrugged, "but at least you could stay without danger."

Hrithikesh gulped and found his voice to ask, "Who was your first love and what happened to him?"

"He was a peddler's son. He was apprenticed to Father, along with Lokesh, who always held him in utter contempt. He though his sister deserved better than a peddler's son – it didn't matter that she loved him. So he ambushed Arjun with Ali and Jay... and they killed him. They were never punished, of course." She looked at him with dry eyes. "The old governor had just died and Lord Kibriya was chosen. Lokesh entered the governor's guard. He got married and forgot the whole thing. I didn't, and neither did Farhan. We both liked Arjun, he reminded us of you."

Hrithikesh gulped. He'd have to ask Farhan about Arjun. If the peddler's son had been really like him, it wasn't surprising she didn't want to go through it all again. The way she told the story of her first love – the flat  tone, the dry eyes – meant she had no more tears. And that she'd forgotten his promise, and still hadn't realized how much he'd changed in fifteen years. His stomach clenched.

"I told you I'd come back and marry you," he muttered, lowering his eyes.

She gave him back his repaired coat with a sigh.

"I waited," she said. "But then Arjun came along. And then he was killed. You're too much like him, Hrithik, I don't want to fall in love with another harmless man." She pondered. "Do you think the hooded man is single?"

Hrithikesh choked on his comment and stared at her, aghast. He had to tell her the truth, or he'd lose her to... himself!

But Pareevash shooed him out.

"I have work to do, I can't spend hours chatting with you!" she chided. "Besides, shouldn't you be at the palace for Imran's lessons?"

Hrithikesh found himself in the street, unable to utter another word to his beloved.

***

"What do you want?" Lokesh asked bluntly.

"Is your sister in?" Hrithikesh asked, worried. "Your uncle said she didn't show up for work today. Is she all right?"

"Who knows?" Lokesh snapped. "She was taken to the palace this morning."

"What? Why?" he protested.

Lokesh shrugged. "Lord Kibriya thinks he can lure the hooded man into a trap. One day you'll have to explain to me why everybody is so obsessed with my sister. Is it because she resists you?"

Hrithikesh's heart had sunk at the first sentence and he almost didn't hear the rest.

"Who else wants her?" he asked, frowning.

"Lord Kibriya, that hooded bastard..." Lokesh scoffed. "You've got competition, my friend."

"And who would you give her to?" he challenged. Lokesh had always been overly protective with his sister. He must think highly of his lord to allow him to take her. Or maybe he felt he didn't have a choice.

Lokesh stared at him, thoughtful.

"Between a bandit and a nobleman who would use her and throw her away... At least you'd marry her," he said, serious for the first time since they'd met again. Maybe he realized he was being a fool now that his sister was in the governor's hands.

"Thank you, Lokesh." Hrithikesh half smiled, mentally apologizing for marking him. Lokesh did care for his sister, after all. But now he must run to the palace as the hooded man without arising Lokesh's suspicions. "I will marry her even used. But please make sure Lord Kibriya doesn't hurt her."

Lokesh sighed. "I'll do what I can."

Not much, then, Hrithikesh thought as he waved good-bye. He quickly went back to his uncle's and found Kiran in the bedroom. Damn. He couldn't change in front of his cousin's eyes. What is he doing here at this time of the day?

Kiran sat on his pallet and looked at him when he entered.

"You're back early," he said.

"Um... yes, I forgot something..." Hrithikesh answered embarrassed.

"This?" Kiran pulled out the curved blade from under the bed-sheet.

"Have you gone through my stuff?" He glared at his cousin.

"I came to change my tunic since it's so hot in the workshop today, and your travel bag was half open," Kiran replied, undaunted. "I saw this." The green hooded coat also came out from under the bed-sheet. "I had to check the rest."

Hrithikesh snatched his garment and the blade from his cousin's hands.

"I hope you didn't tell anyone," he grumbled.

"Of course not." Kiran rose, his face brightening. "So you're the hooded man?"

"Yes, and I need to go to the palace, Pareevash is in trouble," he said as he quickly peeled off his tunic.

"You hide your muscles well," Kiran complimented him. "Who trained you?"

"The monks. Military training was included in my education. Physical exercise helped us to learn control."

"Wow! And is your pole-arm magic or what?"

Hrithikesh took the shaft, put on the curved blade, then rotated it to show the seal of the goddess. "This is magic. The seal of the goddess stuns for a very short time, but leaves a permanent mark."

"Great!" Kiran said as Hrithikesh put the scarf over his face and pulled up the hood. "Save your sweetheart, and she'll marry you!"

"I guess I'll have to tell her the truth." He grabbed his main weapon. "But you're sworn to secrecy," he added threateningly.

"Your secret is safe with me." Kiran put both hands over his mouth.

Hrithikesh decided to trust him. He was wasting time, who knew what Kibriya was doing to Pareevash. He nodded and left.

Through alleys and gardens he reached the palace, meeting only a couple of busy servants who pointedly ignored him. Even inside the building he felt invisible. He didn't come across any guards, and the servants he saw were obviously on his side.

He reached the governor's apartment to find it unguarded. He could go in through the main door instead of having to climb and enter from a second floor window.

The apartment, like most noble or royalty quarters, included three rooms one inside the other. An anteroom led to a bath chamber, which led to the bedroom.

The anteroom was empty and Hrithikesh carefully closed the door behind him. He could hear the governor's voice coming from the bedroom in the back. Then Pareevash screamed, calling for help, so he rushed in.

Kibriya had thrown her on the bed and ripped open her bodice. She was struggling wildly against the much bigger man who seemed to want to force himself on her – although he was still fully dressed. He squeezed one of her breasts while he sucked on her neck.

"Get off of her!" The tiled floor was slippery and Hrithikesh skidded to a stop by the bed and put the curved blade at Kibriya's throat.

The governor pulled back, still straddling Pareevash, and Hrithikesh's blade followed.

"What took you so long?" Kibriya asked, sarcastic. "You almost failed your virgin maiden! She hasn't seen your face, but already loves you oh-so-much!"

Hrithikesh gritted his teeth. "Get off of her."

Kibriya scoffed, and slowly obeyed. As he stood to his full height, he suddenly whipped his saber from under the sheets where he'd hidden it and attacked. Hrithikesh parried while Pareevash screamed and curled up in a corner of the bed, clutching her torn bodice closed.

"A pole-arm!" Kibriya said with contempt. "A coward's weapon!"

"You assaulted a harmless woman," Hrithikesh replied. "Who's more cowardly?"

He twirled the shaft and hit Kibriya in the chest with the goddess seal, whispering, "Tum zinda ho." The governor was thrown back, and his sword flew from his hand to land in a corner of the room. He slumped to the floor, shivering from the shock of the blow.

Hrithikesh offered his hand to Pareevash.

"Let's go, it won't hold him for long," he said urgently. Kibriya was barely stunned and he'd probably recover faster than Lokesh.

Holding her bodice closed with one hand, she took his with the other. They rushed out of the apartment and Hrithikesh locked the door. He looked up and down the corridor, and tried to come up with a plan..

"I can't take you home." He grabbed her hand again and tried not to look at her. Where could he hide her? Lady Babra!

"Come!"

He led her to the governor's wife apartment on the other side of the palace. The location showed how estranged the pair had become, but it suited his needs perfectly.

He knocked on the door and was allowed to enter. Lady Babra was alone, as usual. She was startled to see him, but even more so to see Pareevash's flushed face.

"Let me guess," she said. "My husband's latest tryst?"

"I arrived on time," he said. "I think." He glanced at Pareevash who nodded. "Will you protect her, my lady? If I take her home..."

"Nobody will look for her here," Lady Babra assured him with a grin. "Come, young lady, let's see if one of my bodices fits you."

He was reluctant to let go, and so was she. She clutched his hand stubbornly. Finally, he turned his back to the governor's wife and looked his beloved in the eyes. She was still a little breathless, but her face beamed adoration and her lips trembled into a smile.

"Thank you." Her fingers let go of his hand and rose to his face. "May I?"

He let her pull down the scarf slowly, and his heart stuck in his throat. What would she say? Would she be angry? Excited? Disappointed? Of them all, he feared that the most.

Her eyes went wide and she gasped loudly, almost uttering his name.

He laid his fingers on her mouth and shook his head.

Her lips trembled into a smile and she nodded. "How?" she whispered, still incredulous.

He shushed her. "Later," he whispered back, elated by her acceptance. He pulled up the scarf to cover his nose and she blew him a kiss.

"Stay with Lady Babra," he said quickly, wishing he could take her away there and then, marry her and forget  everything about Leland. But he couldn't. He wasn't done yet.

"Will you come back for me?" she asked, much as she had done fifteen years earlier.

His heart thundered in his chest. "I promise."

He drank in the sight of her one last time, turned to bow at the governor's wife and dashed out the door before his feelings overwhelmed him.

That night he spent a long time on his knees praying to Zindagi. He needed to keep his anger in check if he wanted a bloodless outcome. He couldn't just leave Leland after stirring waters with the governor. Besides, one part of him wanted to punish the governor for laying his hands on Pareevash.

He struggled to keep everything under control and concentrate on the prayer. The abbot's face alternated with Kibriya's, and Pareevash washed over both with her barely hidden breasts. Goddess, he so wanted her! He had contained his lust, but for how long would he be able to do it?

He felt like screaming and kicking, but remained still, and tried to calm the storm of feelings inside him. He eventually went to bed, still with no idea of how to proceed and hoping Pareevash was safe in Lady Babra's apartment.

***

The next morning when he went with Kiran on some errand for his aunt, he was still mulling over the situation. He hadn't talked to Kiran about what had happened the day before, and wondered if he should. Consulting with someone usually helped, if only to brainstorm ideas.

Kiran led him to the blacksmith's shop and greeted Pareevash's father with a determined expression.

"You can show Hrithikesh the new blades," he said.

The blacksmith nodded, glancing at puzzled a Hrithikesh before he opened a leather blanket. Inside were curved blades ready to be inserted into shafts to make pole-arms. It was an inexpensive weapon with less metal than usual, and any utensil with a shaft could be used to complete it. It was a peasant or commoner's weapon, rather than a coward's.

"We're going to help the hooded man," Kiran told Hrithikesh. "Will you help us?"

"Of course," he said pleasantly surprised. If the citizens started fighting back, he wouldn't be alone and wouldn't leave them defenseless. He only needed to teach a final lesson to the governor and then they should be able to take care of themselves.

He smiled at his cousin with relief. Kiran winked and gave him an impish smile while the blacksmith folded the leather to hide the blades again.

"Is Farhan with us?" Hrithikesh asked.

"Yes, but we didn't tell Lokesh yet," Kiran answered. "We might soon, though."

Puzzled, Hrithikesh turned to the blacksmith.

"My daughter vanished in the palace yesterday," the man told them, running a jerky hand through his graying hair. "I think it's time we got rid of that unworthy governor."

"I think she's all right," Hrithikesh said. "But I'm going there later, so I will check on her."

"You're not allowed in Lord Kibriya's apartment, are you?" the blacksmith said sourly.

Before Hrithikesh could reply, Farhan rushed into the forge, breathless.

"Uncle! The main square! Quick!"

They all dashed out and discovered that a crowd was gathering in front of the governor's palace.

"Some men were forced to build that scaffold early this morning," Farhan explained. "And now they're on it, ready to be hanged!"

Ten men stood on the scaffold, with their hands tied behind their back and the rope ready around their necks, surrounded by the guards.

Hrithikesh cursed under his breath.

"What have they done?" Kiran asked through clenched teeth.

"Nothing," a woman answered in a low voice.

Others grumbled around them.

"Ali is back," Kiran said, elbowing his cousin and pointing with his chin.

"Why, where was he?"

"Who knows." Farhan shrugged. "Some errand for Lokesh."

"I wonder when he'll stop considering you the dumb cousin," Hrithikesh muttered, staring at Lokesh and Ali.

The two young men stood at the end of the line of guards and were talking to a man in merchant's clothes. Hrithikesh thought his face looked familiar, but he couldn't place it.

"Who's that man?" he asked.

Kiran shook his head. "Never seen him before. They're probably checking out the new face in town."

It looked more like they were talking to him, and both looked worried. Hrithikesh stared at the face of the stranger, trying to remember where he'd seen him. He must be about Kibriya's age and he listened gravely to the two guards without interrupting.

The murmur of the crowd slowly subsided as the governor came out of the palace and climbed the steps of the scaffold. When silence fell, Kibriya faced the crowd with his feet apart and his hands behind his back. The gem on the hilt of his saber shone in the sun.

"If you're wondering why these people will die today, it's because they're helping the hooded bandit," he announced. "You all are. You're covering him, helping him, and he hides among you. If he doesn't surrender himself or you don't give him to me, I'm going to hang these men. Ten more people will die tomorrow, and then every day until the damn bastard is in my hands. Is that clear?"

Son of a bitch! Hrithikesh felt his anger rise almost to boiling point. He clenched his fists and gritted his teeth, concentrating on keeping control. He glanced at his cousin who looked worried. Farhan was munching his lower lip. Lokesh and Ali were back at their post, both frowning. The blacksmith was glaring, as if he wanted to kill Kibriya with his stare.

Kibriya is mine. But I'll appreciate the help. Hrithikesh took a deep breath and regained control.

"You have until sunset to bring me the man, or these people won't see the sun rise tomorrow," Kibriya concluded. He stepped down from the scaffold and sat in the open tent the servants had set up for him. In spite of the hot day, a bonfire burned between the tent and the scaffold.

The crowd grumbled and shuffled around.

"I've seen the hooded man in action, but I don't know where he hides," someone grumbled.

"He could be anyone." That was Farhan, whispering in his ear. Hrithikesh glanced at Kiran who pretended not to listen. "For all we know, there could be more than one."

"I don't think so," he said through clenched teeth. "You need some skills to do what he does."

"We all know how to handle a pole-arm," the blacksmith said in a low voice. "I'm not sure this was a good move, Lord Kibriya." He snarled at the governor who was too far to notice.

"My husband and son are with you," a woman told the blacksmith, pointing at the armed men around the scaffold.

Hrithikesh noticed even the guards looked a little uncomfortable. Should he lead a revolt? Should he confront the governor alone? Should he send for the king?

He pursed his lip, torn. He wished he had the abbot's wisdom. His eyes went to the palace windows, and above the tent he saw Lady Babra and Pareevash looking down, unseen by Kibriya and most of the guards.

"On second thought." Kibriya rose. "This is too boring. I'm going to hang a man every hour. Down with the first."

He signaled the executioner and one man kicked in vain as the noose tightened around his neck, then was still. A woman screamed and tried to climb the scaffold, but was stopped by the guards. Kibriya sat back, satisfied.

The sobbing woman was taken away by an elder. Murmurs rose again, cussing both the governor and the hooded man. The avenging spirit didn't save an innocent man, therefore its believers lost faith in him.

Hrithikesh cursed under his breath. He couldn't take on all the guards by himself, but if the blacksmith armed the other people... He turned around, but Pareevash's father was gone. And so were Kiran and Farhan.

Damn! Hrithikesh was about to leave and get his weapons when a resounding voice stopped him.

"I am the hooded man!"

The blacksmith stood fiercely in front of the governor with a pole-arm similar to Hrithikesh's.

"Father!" Lokesh protested.

"Shut up, Lokesh," Kibriya and the blacksmith said at the same time.

The governor rose and stepped forward to face the bulky man.

"You say you're the hooded man?" he asked skeptical. Pareevash's father's frame obviously didn't match what he'd seen of the bandit.

"So am I!"

More men showed up with pole-arms. They were of all ages and from all walks of life – peasants, artisans, traders. The blacksmith must have distributed the blades to his friends and allies before walking up to the governor. Even Farhan joined his uncle's small army, but where was Kiran?

"I see." Kibriya scoffed. He snatched the pole-arm from the blacksmith's hand, broke it over his thigh, threw it into the fire and watched it burn. Then he stepped even closer to the blacksmith.

"Nice try," he said a few inches from the man's face. "The hooded man has a magic weapon," he stepped back and ran his eyes over the other armed men. "Don't try to trick me with fakes. Throw your weapons in the fire."

The men hesitated. Kibriya called the guards forward, and they lowered their pikes threateningly. It was a standoff, since neither wanted to give up their weapons.

"So, none of you is the hooded man?" Kibriya asked, scornful. He sat down again. "Good, I'll keep waiting. Put the blacksmith on the scaffold with the others. He just volunteered to be hanged next."

Lokesh stared aghast as two other guards hauled his father onto the platform. Hrithikesh glanced at the palace window – Pareevash covered her mouth while Lady Babra squeezed her shoulders to keep her quiet.

His indecision evaporated. He rushed back to his uncle's, feeling the anger mount again inside him.

His pole-arm was gone.

"Kiran!" he called, furious and worried. "Shit!"

He quickly took off his tunic, put on the hood and the scarf, and took the sheath by its shoulder-strap. He grabbed the brass wheel and rushed out again.

When he reached the main square, Kiran was already standing in front of Kibriya who was throwing the broken pole-arm into the fire. A puff of green smoke showed the dispersion of the spell and Hrithikesh held his breath.

Kibriya slowly smiled. "Now we're talking."

"Kiran?" Lokesh couldn't believe his eyes. "Where did you learn to use that weapon?"

Kiran shrugged. "It's a magic weapon. What skill does one need?"

That wasn't completely true. And Kiran didn't know how to activate the spell either. Stupid, stupid cousin of mine, you're going to get yourself killed!

Kibriya smirked. "You're good with it. Don't be so modest."

"I'm not. I'm one of many. Kill me and a dozen more will show up." Kiran waved his hand towards the small group of armed civilians. "The hooded man showed the way. He won't die alone."

Kibriya unsheathed his saber and swung it at the youth. Kiran collapsed, dead before he hit the ground, his throat slashed open by the governor's blade.

"Kiran!" Pareevash rushed out of the palace to kneel by her fallen childhood friend. "Bastard!" she screamed at Kibriya who looked mildly amused by her sudden appearance. "You killed the wrong man! But he will avenge Kiran and kill you!"

"Oh really? And where is your hero now?" Kibriya asked, sardonic.

"I'm here."

The crowd moved away and Hrithikesh stepped forward, looking the governor in the eyes. He heard Pareevash gasp, but didn't look at her. He glanced at his cousin's bloodied neck and blank stare, and heard her words again. He should avenge Kiran and kill the damn governor!

Kibriya scoffed. "Your magic weapon is gone."

Hrithikesh showed the brass wheel. "It's not my only weapon." He spun it around his finger and threw it, cutting the ropes of the ten men waiting to be hanged. The wheel stuck in the last pole as the men sighed with relief.

Control. I will not let anger guide me.

"An assassin's weapon." Kibriya swung his still-bloodied blade, coming forward. "Interesting choice. Who trained you?"

"I'm sick of that question," Hrithikesh answered, unsheathing his saber. "Let's decide now which school is better, yours or mine."

"I've had the best teachers."

"So have I." The cold fury was slowly mounting. His cousin's sacrifice weighed on his heart, and even though he wasn't looking at the fallen body, he could see the ugly gash that had taken Kiran's life imprinted behind his eyelids.

"Some men understand only violence," the abbot's voice said in his head. "Strike them, but don't kill them. Show them the power of Zindagi."

Kibriya had tasted it – although he hid the scar under his embroidered tunic – and it obviously wasn't enough to stop him. This is really personal. I'm not trying to save people, I'm taking revenge. It's between me and him. Zindagi forgive me.

And then Kibriya attacked. Again Hrithikesh parried, and the duel became a deadly dance between two sabers. Hrithikesh quickly assessed the surroundings and his opponent's weaknesses and strengths, and stayed calm. He charged with confidence and proved to be more agile than the governor, probably because he was younger. But Kibriya was accurate and determined, and quickly adjusted to his fighting style. They fought, forward and back, jumping and running up and down the staircases of the palace, until they reached the terrace, alone.

They faced each other, catching their breath under the sun. The blood on Kibriya's blade was still only Kiran's and seeing it made Hrithikesh unleash the animal inside him. But even free, it remained a controlled anger, like the monks had taught him. He channeled his energy in the sword-arm and when he stopped, Kibriya was at his feet with a lethal wound.

"Who... trained... you?"

Hrithikesh took down the hood and the scarf.

"This useless tutor studied at the monastery of Zindagi in Agharek," he snapped. He couldn't say the goddess guided his hand, because she hadn't. His inner demon had done it and taken a life. He'd broken his oath.

Kibriya smiled weakly. "A fighting... monk..."

"I was never ordained," he retorted. "And never will be."

Not after today. Not after taking a life. Would Zindagi ever forgive him?

Kibriya had lost too much blood and his ragged breath slowly stopped.

Hrithikesh dropped the saber. His heart pounded so hard, he thought it might explode. His knees gave way and he passed out, barely hearing the voices calling his name.

***

He woke up on a bed in one of the guest rooms of the palace. The first thing he saw was Pareevash's worried face. She sat on the bed, and Lokesh stood next to her with his arms folded and wearing a frown that promised nothing good.

Hrithikesh sat up and realized he still wore the hooded man's clothes. He also saw that his childhood friends weren't the only people in the room. There was Uncle Raju and Lady Babra and the merchant with the familiar face – all staring at him.

Pareevash smiled and Uncle Raju sighed in relief at seeing him awake.

"You won a duel against a master swordsman today," the merchant said. "Not bad for a potter's son."

With anger issues. And who couldn't protect or save his cousin. He lowered his eyes, unable to look at Uncle Raju who came closer and put a hand on his shoulder.

"Thank you, Hrithikesh. You opened our eyes and allowed us to start fighting for our rights."

"But Kiran is dead!" he cried.

Pareevash squeezed his fingers in sympathy, so he hugged his knees to avoid touching her. Not now. Probably not ever. Surely he'd end up in prison for killing a royal governor.

"And you avenged him," Uncle Raju said gravely.

"The king will want my head for what I did." Guilt gnawed at him with sharp pointed teeth.

"No, he won't." The merchant spoke. "He will commend you for protecting these people."

Startled, Hrithikesh looked up to meet the man's smiling face. He had the same smile of the king. Prince Yash! Of course! No wonder he had looked familiar to him – who had seen him at the capital – but not to Kiran!

"Your highness..."

"You know who I am?" The man looked surprised, and so did Lokesh.

"Yes, your highness. I grew up at the capital," he answered with a curt bow of his head.

"After you marked me with your magic weapon, I sent Ali to the king," Lokesh said, massaging his belly over the scar hidden under his tunic. "He came back this morning with the king's official who witnessed everything."

"The king sent his own brother to investigate?" Hrithikesh couldn't believe his ears.

"We thought there was something wrong about Leland," the prince answered, as Lokesh gaped at him. Pareevash and Uncle Raju bowed deeply with puzzled expressions. "We already had in mind an unannounced visit when Ali requested an audience. I came to remove Lord Kibriya from his seat – except you did it for me."

"I've been torn between going back to Agharek to report or staying here to do something about it," Hrithikesh admitted. "Maybe I shouldn't have done the latter."

"You were wonderful!" Pareevash said. "I never thought it could be you until you showed me your face!"

He smiled ruefully. "I broke my oath, Pareevash. I've taken a life. Even if the king forgives me, the abbot might not be as lenient. Zindagi will want me to atone for the misuse of my training."

"That's between you and the temple," the prince said. "I'll give you a letter for the abbot, telling him about the good deeds you've done."

"You're not coming back to Agharek, your highness?" he asked, puzzled.

"As I said, I came here to remove Lord Kibriya from his seat. My brother, the king, appointed me as the new governor of Leland. We decided this province is too far from Agharek to leave it in the hands of a stranger. To tighten the bonds within the kingdom, the governor of Leland will be a member of the royal family from now on."

All bowed to the prince and new governor, but he waved his hand with a dismissive gesture.

"You're free to go, Hrithikesh. The letter for the abbot will be ready tomorrow. The day is almost over and I don't think you're in such a hurry to leave."

"Your highness." Hrithikesh stood and bowed at the waist, and then the prince shooed them all out.

Uncle Raju put one arm around Hrithikesh's shoulder to lead him out of the palace.

"I'm very proud of you," he whispered. "I wasn't aware of your training and I'm surprised Kiran dared to try to take your place..."

"He had discovered my secret. And he'd just introduced me to the blacksmith's army..."

"So he was one of them?" Uncle Raju looked impressed by his own son. "You made a real man out of him!"

"If only I could have stopped him." He sighed. "But he stole my pole-arm and surrendered himself before I realized what he was doing."

He felt Pareevash's hand in his. She walked next to him with her brother by her side.

"He was very brave," Lokesh said admiringly. "And you... where did you learn to fight like that? I mean, beating Lord Kibriya..."

"Zindagi's are fighting monks," he replied, amused. "Not really harmless like someone thought." He squeezed Pareevash's hand and glanced at the dimple in her cheek.

"How was I supposed to know you'd become a fighting monk?" she protested.

"I was trained by monks, but I'm not a monk," he said, stopping in the middle of the corridor to look her in the eyes. "When asked to choose, I opted for fatherhood. So will you marry me?"

She giggled. "Yes!" She'd have thrown her arms around his neck if her brother hadn't had his  hand on her shoulder.

"Thank the gods!" Lokesh sighed with relief. "She's going to be your problem now!" he gave Hrithikesh a lopsided grin.

"My pleasure," he replied gazing into her baby blues.

It was his uncle who stopped him from kissing her there and then.

"Let's take care of Kiran's body. We are in mourning right now."

Reluctantly, Hrithikesh let her go and followed his uncle, still torn between happiness and sorrow.

***

The mourning was more heartfelt for the last two victims than for the governor himself. Prince Yash took the governor's seat and the reins of the city, and then sent for his family. Lady Babra was allowed to stay in her apartment so she could be a lady-in-waiting for Yash's wife.

Hrithikesh and Pareevash's wedding was a quiet ceremony in Leland's temple, since his family was mourning Kiran. No banquet nor celebration, only a room booked at the inn for the newlyweds, so they could spend the night together before leaving for Agharek. Using Kiran's room for that first night seemed immoral to both of them.

After a heartfelt good-bye to Uncle Raju, Aunt Jasmine and Farhan, Hrithikesh clasped Lokesh's arm before stealing away his sister, receiving a grin and a wink in return. He touched Pareevash's parents' feet, then took his bride to the inn where they had already brought their few belongings.

As he closed the bedroom door, Hrithikesh took her in his arms. They were alone at last, and had hours ahead to talk and explore each other. Actually, they had a lifetime together, unless Zindagi punished him with a long reclusion for taking a life.

"You mentioned you fell in love once, but Lord Kibriya kept talking about your virginity," he said, a little worried. "Did you manage to spend enough time with that guy to be intimate with him? Kiran and Uncle Raju told me there were no more virgin brides in Leland..."

"Since Lord Kibriya became governor," she said. "That's correct. But Arjun was ambushed before he truly came to power. Lokesh was always jealous of anyone getting near me, but with Arjun he went too far."

"So if I'd come back ten years ago, he might have killed me?" he asked, amused.

"Probably. He never liked you. He has learned to respect you now, knowing you're better trained than he is, but he never liked seeing you around me all the time."

"Mm, he allowed the wedding, so we're fine," he said. He squeezed her. "But you've changed the subject."

"Don't you want to discover it for yourself?" she asked with an impish smile.

"I'd rather know now."

"Why? If I'm not a virgin, you'll treat me like a whore?" she challenged.

"I don't want to hurt you."

"You wouldn't if you tried. You're too sweet, Hrithik."

"No, I'm not." He let her go, serious now. No matter how much he wanted her, he needed to make things clear first. "My father sent me to the monastery because I had anger issues."

She looked puzzled. "You did?"

"I was furious with him because he took me away from you. I refused to learn his job. I was disrespectful and was becoming violent. I hated Agharek and everything about my new life. I wanted to come back here and stay with you."

She smiled and stepped forward, but he stepped back. He wasn't finished.

"Since he couldn't handle me anymore, my father sent me to the monastery. I put him through two years of hell. And then the monks taught me to control my anger. The military training allowed me to channel my energies elsewhere. But when Kibriya killed Kiran, I willingly released that wild part of me I had so carefully tamed through the years. I was an animal looking for blood."

"But you're back in control now." Her smile was gone as he looked him in the eyes.

"I don't scare you? You're not disgusted?"

She shook her head. "Kibriya disgusted me. I look forward to tasting your mouth."

Hrithikesh felt the tension leave him. Enough words. It was time to unleash his passion for an act of love. Her dimpled smile welcomed him. He controlled his hunger and got into the bed beside her.

***

Hrithikesh stared at his feet while the abbot sat at his desk and read the letter of Prince Yash. The abbot's office was cool, but outside the sun shone in the courtyard, and Hrithikesh could hear the sound of blunt weapons clashing and the harsh words of the teachers. It reminded him of his own training and the years spent among the monastery walls, harnessing his anger.

The abbot put down the parchment and looked at him.

"Do you have anything to say?" he asked.

"I don't know what the prince said, but I have taken a life and my pole-arm was destroyed," Hrithikesh answered quickly. "I have come to bring back my other weapons and atone for breaking my oath."

The abbot's lips twitched, and he stared some more.

"You've come back a married man."

"Yes, sir."

"So your choice is final. Fatherhood."

"Yes, sir. But sir, I..."

"You broke your oath, I know." The abbot folded the parchment.

"And I destroyed a magic weapon that belonged to the goddess."

"Actually, Lord Kibriya destroyed it. That's what the prince said." The abbot patted the parchment.

"Uh... correct. But I probably misused it anyway."

Hrithikesh had never been good at figuring out his mentor. He wondered if he'd ever be – or look – that impassive. He still had no idea what the punishment would be, and if his offense was large or small.

"Is your anger under control now?" the abbot asked.

"Yes."

"Do you love your wife?"

"Yes, very much."

"So how can I throw you in a cell when the king pardoned you and your wife has been appointed dressmaker to Princess Soraya? How can you honor Zindagi if you don't sleep with your wife?"

Hrithikesh's lips trembled into a smile of hope.

The abbot tapped his fingers on the desk, thoughtful.

"You will come here every day for a year," he said at last. "You will teach young men to control their emotions. You will tell them how you slipped and got back to your feet."

Hrithikesh's eyes grew wide with in wonder. He'd be a teacher where he used to be a student? What kind of punishment was that?

"You won't get paid, of course," the abbot continued. "And when the penance is done, you will go home and be a father and a tutor of noble youths for the rest of your life. That is the will of Zindagi."

Hrithikesh went down on his knees and touched the ground with his forehead. The abbot rose and pulled him up again, grinning from ear to ear.

"Zindagi blesses you, Hrithikesh. May you have at least three children to replace the lost lives."

Hrithikesh kissed the abbot's hands and left, feeling relieved – no, euphoric. Pareevash had been welcomed by Kareena and his parents, but they were moving into the servants' quarters of the royal palace, where they'd have food and shelter, and she'd be the dressmaker of the king's sister. He'd be busy at the monastery in the mornings and go back to his beloved wife in the afternoon and night. What else could he wish for? The three children to honor Zindagi sounded like a small price to pay for what he'd done.

Pareevash welcomed him with her dimpled smile. "So, what did the abbot say?"

"I'm free..." He took her in his arms to kiss her passionately. "But we need to have at least three children," he added.

She giggled. "We're working on that," she whispered before kissing him back.