The Jesters

Harish and Kartik reached Jevina, capital of Lakeshi, and mingled in the crowd feeling safe at last. There were so many people here, it would be impossible for Master Zahin to ever find them.

Kartik had left his gypsy tribe to join Master Zahin's itinerant circus as juggler and knife-thrower a decade ago. Over the years, he'd learned to play a stringed instrument (now sold) and sing decently.

The itinerant jesters had five closed wagons for family, animals, and props, and Kartik had shared one with the unmarried young men – which included teen Harish, a nimble acrobat who could walk on a tightrope or dance like a wild fire. Being a pretty boy with unusual gray eyes, Master Zahin often offered Harish's body to whoever was interested for a fee.

After ten years of watching the use and abuse of younger member's bodies, Kartik had decided he'd had enough. Harish was too meek to call Master Zahin a "bloody pimp", so Kartik had acted on his behalf, dragging him away from the camp.

The pair had traveled on foot, stopping only to eat or sleep, but now they felt they could finally rest properly. Because they didn't have any money, they either had to sell their props – Kartik's throwing knives or Harish's juggling implements – or put on a show to gather a few coins.

"We can juggle and do some gymnastic," Harish suggested. "Or I can be your target boy."

Kartik usually used one of the girls as target, he'd never used Harish. He stared surprised at the young man, who smiled sheepishly and shrugged.

"I can stand still," Harish insisted. "Your knives never touch anyone."

"I brought you here to keep you safe," Kartik said, frowning with worry. Throwing knives at Harish felt wrong. He could name his feelings for Harish now, even if he'd never said it out loud. He loved Harish with all his being, but he'd never touch him, knowing how much abuse Harish had been through.

"I am safe with you," Harish replied. His trust was overwhelming.

Kartik couldn't believe Harish had actually followed him away from the slavery of Master Zahin. It had taken Kartik a few months to discover that not all members of the circus were free. Harish was an orphan – Master Zahin had bought him, and trained him as an acrobat, so he was more a slave than a family member.

Since Kartik always treated him like a younger brother, the scrawny teen had grown very attached to him. They slept very close at night, but Harish stiffened whenever someone touched him with lust. Kartik made sure his desire was always under control when they were close.

"Are you sure?" Kartik stopped to look Harish in the eyes.

The crowd moved around them, not leaving much room for setting up a show. Someone pushed Harish against him and his heart jumped. Harish regained his balance and stared at him again.

"I'm sure," he said with a nod.

Kartik sighed and looked around.

"Let's find a square and see if we can set up a stage."

The street they were on ended in a big square, but it was market day and stalls were everywhere. Merchants screamed their goods and customers crowded the best stalls. Finding a spot to set up a street show seemed impossible.

"Look!" Harish pointed at red balls dancing in the air. A juggler had found a place to perform on the other side of the square.

Kartik grabbed Harish's hand and led him through the crowd. Kartik thought Harish was perfect, including his minor physical imperfection. Harish's right hand had an extra half-finger, in addition to the five normal ones, but the malformation didn't hinder his hand movements. It was just weird to look at and some people were repelled by it.

The corner of the square had a small stage for street performers. The juggler had finished his number and bowed to the cheering audience. Kartik saw a group of other performers waiting on the side of the stage and headed there.

"We would like to go on next, so we can gather a few coins to buy some food," he told the waiting men. "We won't be long. We are hungry."

"What do you do?" one asked, glaring at them.

Since a juggler was already on stage, Kartik didn't hesitate. "I am a knife-thrower. My target boy is an acrobat, but he won't perform until I feed him. Really, we won't be long."

The men grunted and muttered, but when the juggler came off the stage, they signaled Kartik to go on. Harish followed him on the wooden stage and took a prop table, putting it against the wall as target background while Kartik introduced himself and his "aide".

Ignoring the snorts and scoffs – and his empty belly's rumblings – Kartik turned to look at Harish who positioned himself against the improvised board and flashed an encouraging smile at him.

Kartik took a deep breath and opened his travel pack to get the throwing knives. He cleared his mind and focused on the target, framing him with a quick succession of throws. The crowd cheered and threw a few coins.

Kartik recovered the knives and Harish made a headstand against the board, opening his legs so Kartik could plant a V of knives between them. He didn't flinch – not even when the last knife stabbed the wood over his crotch.

Warmer applause and more coins reached the stage as Harish did a somersault to get back on his feet. Kartik smiled at the crowd and bowed deeply. They had enough for a meal; they could step down now and come back for another turn later. He thanked the crowd and picked up the coins while Harish gathered the knives and put them back in the travel pouch.

They bowed and left the stage, thanking their fellow performers for the opportunity. One grumpily pointed them to a tavern in another corner of the square and they thanked him again.

"I'm so hungry!" Harish said as they crossed the square towards the tavern.

"You were so brave," Kartik said.

"I knew your hand wouldn't miss even if you're starving," Harish replied with a grin. "And thank you for sparing my jewels, although Master Zahin would have been happy if you'd emasculated me."

"He's wanted to emasculate you since your voice changed," Kartik said with contempt.

"He'd have done it already if women hadn't started requesting me," Harish said with a shrug.

"Because you put some meat on your bones and turned out to be a strikingly handsome young man," Kartik replied, staring fondly at him,

"If you say so." Harish flashed his sheepish smile, then they entered the tavern and a waft of mixed food smells struck them. Their bellies rumbled in unison as they stopped to adapt to the dark interior. They exchanged a glance at the sound and burst out laughing.

"Can I help you?" A wary innkeeper glared at them.

"Yes! Food for two," Kartik said. "And can you recommend a cheap place where we could rent a room?"

***

Harish woke up at the sounds of the busy town. The room he shared with Kartik opened on Jevina's main square, next to the royal palace, and it was rarely a peaceful place. Only during the wee hours of the night did silence linger.

Harish didn't mind the noise. Sometimes sleeping in a wagon and listening to nature's voice was even worse – like during thunderstorms – and he had grown accustomed to falling asleep whenever or wherever he could.

The room had only the double bed they were lying on, a jug and basin, and a chamberpot, but it was more than what he was used to. He'd washed in rivers or streams all his life, and slept on a blanket with four or five other young men in a much smaller space, so the room felt like a luxury to him.

He rolled over to see if Kartik was awake – of course he was. The elder didn't seem to need as much sleep as he did. Harish blessed the day the raven-haired gypsy had walked into the camp and asked Master Zahin if he needed another performer. Kartik's kindness and independence had become a role-model for him, turning the scrawny teen into a healthy and well-built young man.

"Ready for another day of shows?" Kartik asked.

Harish nodded. Since they didn't own a mirror, they took turns at the basin and then shaved each other before dressing. Harish took the travel bag where they'd put all the props, moving their other possessions to the other pouch, which they would leave in the room, and they left for their daily tour of the stages incorporated in most of Jevina's squares.

To perform on the main square, directly in front of the palace, was an honor they hadn't achieved in the ten days they'd spent in the city. Performers on that stage were invited by the king or a member of his court, and nobody had approached Kartik yet. But their names were spreading through town, since the pair could perform in more than one discipline.

Sometimes they performed with others. Harish walked the tightrope with a group of almond-eyed funambulists or danced with a group of Akkorans, who even had two belly-dancers who covered their faces. Harish had his own version of the belly dance, so they made a nice trio on stage.

Sometimes he was Kartik's target boy, sometimes he danced to his songs, sometimes they juggled together, earning enough money to eat properly and pay the room rent. But there was no need to sell his ass to lustful rich men to survive, which made Harish feel clean and happy for the first time in his life.

At night he nestled against Kartik and fell asleep to the sound of his breathing. Sometimes he wished he wasn't so tired by his daily physical labor – he would like to explore other things with his savior. Although he wasn't sure Kartik would want his body, since he knew how many people had already used it.

Sometimes Harish wished he could go back in time. In his imagination, instead of Master Zahin, a younger, but already independent, Kartik would show up at the orphanage, look at the sickly boy he was, and take him away on a wondrous adventure.

Harish didn't know when his gratitude had turned to love, but he hoped the new life in Jevina would allow him to open up with Kartik and tell him how he felt. Who knew how wonderful his life would become if he discovered that Kartik loved him as much as he did...

***

Kartik stared at the dignitary in disbelief. He thought the man had knocked on their door to offer a spot on the main stage of Jevina, but the dignitary's request had been for far more than a simple street performance.

"Could you repeat, please?" he asked.

"You are requested to perform in the great hall of the palace, for the king and his family," the plump man said, in the same neutral tone as before.

Kartik heard Harish's gasp of surprise and quickly glanced at him.

"The king has heard of our show?" he insisted.

The dignitary's lips twitched in a repressed smile.

"Even though the king doesn't leave the palace very often, and certainly not to mingle with the crowd of commoners, that doesn't mean he doesn't know what happens in his city," he said. "Yes, he has heard of your prowess as knife-thrower and the grace of your target boy when he performs the Akkoran belly dance. The Akkoran dancers will be by his side for the musical part of the show."

"Oh." Kartik's enthusiasm faded. He'd been in town long enough to have heard the rumors about King Vijay's passion for cute young men. A couple of fellow performers had warned him to keep a low profile – if the king learned of his handsome "aide"...

He sighed, staring at his feet. He couldn't refuse the king's offer, could he?

"Can we skip the dancing part and just do the juggling?" he asked.

The plump man shook his head with a sympathetic look on his face.

"Is there a way out of this?" Kartik insisted, feeling trapped already.

"I'm afraid not," the other answered gravely. "You will go on stage tomorrow at noon. You're not the only show, so you might get lucky. If another young man catches the king's fancy before Harish hits the stage..."

Kartik sighed again and nodded. "Thank you," he muttered. "We'll be there."

The man bowed his head and left. Kartik turned to look at Harish who stood against the wall of their room, quiet as usual. The acrobat always let Kartik do the talk with strangers – and not only because Kartik was older, he suspected. Harish was very shy and introverted, having been a slave for most of is life. An itinerant jester's slave, but still someone's property. And Master Zahin hadn't been very good to that specific property, even though he brought in more money alone than all the others put together.

"Try to underplay everything," Kartik said. "Pretend you're still learning. Make mistakes. Don't let the king notice you."

Harish nodded slowly, serious. He knew very well what it meant if the king noticed him.

The next day Harish wore a stage costume that covered his body more than usual, tried to hide his nimbleness as much as he could, but when the music started, he just gave in to the dance and seemed to forget where he was.

Kartik cursed under his breath. Since he didn't dance, he sat with the musicians, playing with them, and noticed when Harish slipped into his love for dance. Worried, Kartik glanced at the king.

The turbaned ruler of Lakeshi was transfixed. And if one followed his gaze, it wasn't the Akkoran dancers that had spellbound him. It was Harish's movements that enthralled him.

Kartik closed his eyes, preparing for the worst.

***

Harish's smile vanished when he saw Kartik's frown. He was still catching his breath after the dance, but had rushed to Kartik expecting the usual smile of approval.

Then he realized where he was – the marble and sculptures and silks and damasks surrounding him – and gasped.

"I'm sorry!" he apologized. "You think the king noticed me?"

"Definitely," Kartik answered through clenched teeth, glaring at him.

Harish blushed under the scolding stare and averted his eyes. "I'm sorry," he whispered, feeling miserable.

"Let's go."

Kartik grabbed his hand and dragged him out of the crowded great hall. But before they reached the palace door, the guards stopped them and the dignitary joined them with his hands folded on his prominent belly, much like when he'd showed up at their door.

"The king wishes you to join the palace entertainers," he said. "A servant has been sent to gather your things and pay off your room. If you follow me, I shall show you your new quarters."

Harish heard Kartik curse under his breath, but they both followed the plump man, escorted by the guards.

Through stately corridors they reached a wing of the palace that was less decorated than the great hall.

"The entertainers' quarters," the dignitary said. "Make yourselves at home."

Kartik and Harish entered the big room – a dormitory barely divided by curtains. Men of all ages chattered on the cots, mostly ignoring the newcomers. A servant waved at them from the other side of the long rectangular room and pointed at two beds where their travel bags were already waiting. As soon as they reached him, he bowed and left.

"We had more privacy in our room," Harish muttered, glancing nervously around him.

"Do you really think you will sleep here?" Kartik asked bluntly, avoiding eye contact.

Harish moaned in frustration and slumped down onto one of the cots. What was he going to do? His freedom has lasted but a fortnight. He wanted to beat himself unconscious. How could Kartik save him from the king's lust? He can't. And it's all my fault. Kartik will leave me here, and I will die of shame.

He hid his face in his hands. He was so sick of it all...

The bed gave under Kartik's weight as he sat next to him and pulled Harish closer.

"I'm sorry, Harish," Kartik whispered. "I didn't want this to happen ever again. I will find a way out of this golden cage, though, I promise."

Harish hugged him and gulped down his tears. Kartik caressed his hair.

"Be strong," he continued. "Tomorrow, I'll take us out of here."

Harish sniffed and pulled away to look at Kartik's face. Of course, Kartik needed time to plan their escape. He'd never been in a palace before – neither of them had.

Harish slowly nodded. "I'll do the king's bidding," he said with a shaky voice. "But then take me away from here."

"I will," Kartik promised, determined. "Nobody will touch you against your will ever again."

Harish's lips trembled into a smile. You can touch me anytime... he thought wistfully.

But his voice didn't come out.

***

Before the lights went out in the entertainers' dormitory, a servant came to summon Harish. The young man gave Kartik a dismayed glance, then followed the servant.

Kartik lay sleepless on his cot while he tried to think of a way out from the palace – and tried not to think of Harish in the king's arms. He didn't think Harish could last until the king's lust subsided.

To get out of the palace they'd need their abilities – climbing walls, mostly, or trees. They could escape from the walled palace gardens first thing in the morning and be out of town before lunchtime. Then they would head for the jungle and stay put for a while.

Kartik thought they could build a hut and live of hunting, away from people. If he could throw knives, he could learn archery, or they could learn to catch fish. Maybe they could find a small village and settle there – not as jesters, but as hunters.

Eventually he dozed off, but by the time the sun came up, he hadn't slept much. Harish came back with the first light and instead of lying on the next bed, he came to nestle against him, even though that didn't leave them any room to move.

Kartik held him tight and felt him sigh.

"Are you all right?" he whispered in the still-quiet dormitory. Everyone else was still asleep.

Harish nodded.

"Do you need to sleep for a while?" he insisted, knowing Harish made him look like an insomniac.

"I'm fine." Harish squeezed him. "You want to go now?"

"It's probably better to go before the palace awakes."

Harish pulled back to look him in the eyes.

"The guards are already awake. I saw them coming back here."

"I know, but we're not going out the main door," Kartik replied with a quick smile.

Harish's eyes widened. "We're not?"

Kartik forced himself to let go of Harish's warm body.

"Let's go," he whispered with a wink.

Hope filled Harish's gray eyes and he promptly obeyed. They quietly gathered their things and tiptoed out of the dormitory. They wandered through a few corridors, hiding behind columns whenever they heard the guards patrolling nearby, until they finally found a garden.

They quickly climbed a tree to look beyond the walls, and found the perfect escape. One wall of the garden bordered a narrow service alley. They climbed it, jumping down on the other side. They looked left and right, then rushed towards what felt like the shortest way out of town.

The sun had fully risen by the time they ran away from the outskirts of the capital and followed the river into the luxuriant jungle. As they tried to find a way through the lush undergrowth, Kartik explained his plan of living as hunters or fishermen in some small village, and he saw Harish brighten.

"Can we stop now? I'm tired and hungry and I need rest," Harish pleaded a little later. They had found a narrow track, and Kartik hoped it led somewhere.

"I don't think we should stop in the middle of the jungle, not even in plain daylight," he replied. "Come on, our destination can't be far."

He was right. Moments later they found a small temple under curtains of foliage. Inside was a single room barely bigger than Master Zahin's wagons, but it was clean, and the small altar still had offerings of flowers and food in front of the flat carving of a goddess with many arms.

"There must be a village nearby," Kartik said as they sat on the stone floor. "We will find it before night." He absently gave Harish a piece of flat-bread he'd saved from their dinner, and studied his surroundings. He was a nomad, but he had enjoyed having a room and a steady roof over his head in Jevina. Maybe he could adapt to a settled life.

He looked at Harish who was wolfing down the bread and smiled.

"Gods, you're hungry! Do you want more?"

Harish nodded with his mouth full. Kartik fished for another flat-bread. His own stomach was in a tight knot, so he wouldn't need it.

Harish seemed to realize Kartik wasn't eating, and offered the second flat-bread, but Kartik refused it. He waited until Harish was done before speaking.

"Do you want to talk about last night?"

Harish darkened and his eyes dropped to the floor.

"No," he whispered.

"Did he hurt you?" Kartik insisted, worried.

Harish smiled ruefully. "No. I can't be hurt anymore."

"Do you still feel something?"

"I try not to." Harish shrugged. "I retreat in my mind and let them do what they want." He hugged his knees and put his chin on them.

Kartik sighed.

"I'm sorry. I won't let it happen again," he promised, more to himself than anything. If he thought of all the men who had soiled Harish with their lust... He clenched his fists. That would make him a king murderer if he followed through with his desire to hurt them all.

Harish's hand glided on his and he relaxed his fingers. He took the malformed hand in both his and kissed it.

"What did the king say about this?" he asked.

Harish winced. "He found it... entertaining."

"Entertaining... how?" He stared puzzled at Harish's face.

Harish retrieved his hand and hid it under his armpit, turning his head towards the temple door, obviously unwilling to discuss it. What could have the king found to be so entertaining about the malformed hand?

"I'm tired," Harish said, lying down and curling up in fetal position.

Kartik considered holding him, but even a light caress made Harish shiver, so he just sat with his hands in his lap.

"Sweet dreams," he said, feeling dejected.

***

Harish was finally happy. They'd found the village of hunters and fishermen and had been welcomed in the small community. They'd built a mud hut next to the others and moved in. Kartik went hunting every morning and Harish was learning how to skin and prepare the small animals his hunter brought back. The women of the village giggled at his first clumsy attempts, but then showed him how to do it.

Days flew by as they made new friends, but more and more Harish looked forward to sunset, when they retired in their hut and locked the world outside. He often found himself hugging Kartik to sleep, and new waves of desire washed over him as their bodies came in contact. Kartik smelled good. Kartik's hands were gentle.

And then one night his lips sought Kartik's skin and found the clean-shaven cheek and neck first. He heard Kartik gasp, but kept sucking and licking, trying to reach Kartik's mouth without moving his body, so well-nestled against his friend's.

"Harish..." Kartik's voice was hoarse. "What are you doing?"

Harish's bliss faded and he stopped. He'd hoped Kartik would feel like he did, but obviously it was brotherly love that had brought them to the village in the jungle, and nothing more. He suppressed a sigh.

"Harish." Kartik's voice was more steady now. "Why did you do that?"

"Because I want you," he grumbled, ashamed of himself. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have... I'm so unworthy!"

"No! You're not unworthy." Kartik squeezed him tighter. "But... I thought you didn't like being touched after all the abuse."

"I don't," he admitted. "I don't like lecherous rich men using my body. But you're not one of them."

His hand glided over Kartik's body and met an unexpected bump. Startled, Harish pulled up to look at Kartik's face in the pale light of their single oil lamp. Kartik was hard!

"Do you want me?" he asked, hopeful.

"I don't want to hurt you." Again the unsteady voice – Kartik struggling with his own desire.

"I know you won't hurt me!" Harish grinned. "I love you. Please, do what you want with me!"

Kartik hesitated, caressing Harish's cheek. Then his hand slid on Harish's neck to pull him down.

Their lips met in a deep, passionate kiss that took Harish's breath away.

He'd lost his virginity a long time ago, but suddenly in Kartik's arms he felt like a virgin again. All the men and women who had used him vanished from his mind. Kartik was the first man touching him, a man worth living with or dying for.

Harish was happy – and madly in love for the first time in his life – as he came in Kartik's arms.

***

And then the king found them. He was out on a tiger hunt with his court when he spotted Kartik. The jester-turned-hunter tried to run away, but was quickly captured by the guards.

"The acrobat can't be too far," the king said when Kartik refused to tell him where Harish was.

There weren't many villages in the jungle and it didn't take long to the Royal Guard to find Harish. Both were tied up and put on elephant back to be taken to Jevina with the king.

"I'm sorry," Kartik muttered. "I had sworn it would never happen again."

"You can't kill the king," Harish replied ruefully. "If he touches me, I'll kill myself."

"No!" Kartik protested, looking at his lover seated behind him. "Don't do it, Harish! He'll get bored and will release you. If you're dead, how can you come back to me?"

Harish sniffled. "What if he kills you?"

"In that case, join me as soon as you can. But don't do anything final until you know whether or not I live, all right?"

Harish sniffled again, then whispered, "All right."

They didn't say anything else as the elephant trudged on. When they reached Jevina, they were paraded in the streets like the tiger hide the king had gotten himself.

His lustful stare was on them as the guards took them down from the elephant's back.

"The hunter to the whip, for poaching," the king said. "Bring the other to me."

Harish was dragged away as the guards bared Kartik's torso before attaching him to a pole to be whipped. Kartik clenched his teeth. Knowing Harish was forced to watch, he couldn't show any weakness. But around the twentieth lash, he lost consciousness without a moan.

***

"Will you stop crying?" King Vijay demanded, pulling away from Harish's naked body. The young man didn't react as tears kept streaming down his cheeks. "I didn't kill him. Now, for the gods' sake, stop crying!"

Harish blinked his tears away, but didn't say a word. He'd promised Kartik he wouldn't kill himself as long as his lover was alive, but he felt empty. The shame of the use and abuse of the past had come back, full blown, and he hadn't put up much resistance against the king's passion. But he wasn't going to pretend he liked it either.

The king snorted, put on a dressing gown and started pacing the ample bedroom. Harish didn't move from the canopied double bed, still seeing Kartik's bloodied back as they took him down and dragged him away to a cell. He hoped his beloved was recovering and that he'd soon be able to save him again.

Although there wasn't much hope of escaping from a prison. But Kartik was a gypsy, and some said they could do magic. Maybe he could spellbind the jailor into freeing him. And then he'd come for Harish and kill the evil, lustful king...

The king's hand roamed his body again, sending shivers of disgust down Harish's spine. He had no more tears, but his heart was still breaking in tiny little pieces. He wondered if he'd ever be able to patch it up again when the king's tongue invaded his mouth.

And then the king brought another young man to the room who looked very much like  a younger version of himself – Harish guessed it was probably his son. King Vijay immediately went to the bed where Harish lay.

"Here he is! Isn't he gorgeous? Come, Vivek, check him."

As if I were a stallion, Harish thought sourly.

The noble youth came closer to inspect him. He looked obviously satisfied with what he saw as his eyes lingered on Harish's body. But when the young man's eyes reached his face, he gasped in shock.

"Prince Rohit?" he blurted out, incredulous.

Harish didn't react. Not another lustful noble who would join King Vijay in his games...

"No, no, this is Harish, he's a jester," the king scolded.

"Father, he looks exactly like the prince of Amrendra!" Vivek exclaimed. "I know you were taken by Prince Prem when they both came here, but I've seen Prince Rohit at the Amrendran court and this jester looks exactly like him!"

"Oh, please!" The king sat on the bed and grabbed Harish's malformed hand. "Have you ever seen a prince like this? Come on, get naked with us, we're going to have fun!"

"I'd feel like making love to my brother-in-law," the prince snapped, disgusted.

"This is not Prince Rohit, he's an acrobat," his father retorted. "You have no idea what he can do if he feels like it! Come on, join the fun."

Vivek turned his back and rushed out of the room. Harish refrained from sighing in relief. The king glared at him, and stomped out after his son.

***

Kartik was surprised to be visited by a young nobleman who looked very much like the prince of Lakeshi. He could only guess that the king had introduced him to Harish. Kartik ignored the prince's stare, hoping they hadn't used Harish at the same time.

The fever of the whipping was gone and even though his back still hurt, he was more worried for Harish than for himself. His body could take a beating, but Harish's couldn't take much more abuse.

"Are you a nomad?" Prince Vivek asked bluntly.

"Yes."

"Where did you find that young man sleeping in my father's bed?"

Kartik looked at the prince. Was he also obsessed with Harish?

"I'm not the one forcing him to have sex," he blurted out.

"I'm not forcing him either," the prince replied with contempt. "I think he's of noble origin, and I know you gypsies tend to steal..."

Kartik scoffed. "I've never stolen anything in my life, nor have any of my tribe. But lots of lusty rich and noble men have stolen Harish's innocence."

"Where did you find Harish?" the prince asked again through clenched teeth.

Kartik stared at him then decided to answer.

"I met him in an itinerant circus ten years ago. I left my tribe to join those jesters, and he was already part of their company."

"Was he a family member?"

"No, he was an orphan. Master Zahin had bought and trained him to be a juggler-dancer-acrobat."

"Where do I find this Master Zahin?"

"I don't know. We ran away from the circus a month ago. I was sick of seeing Zahin pimping Harish after the shows."

"You mean he sold his body?"

Kartik nodded somberly.

"I told you, I'm not the one who is abusing Harish," he muttered.

The young man stormed away with pursed lips.

***

"Kartik, I can't take it anymore." Harish crouched by the cell's bars. "The king even invited his son to join us, although the prince refused, saying I reminded him of another prince..."

Kartik came forward to sit next to the bars, moving on his hands and knees, so Harish wondered if he'd really recovered from the whipping like he had assured. When Kartik's hand touched his cheek, Harish closed his eyes. He so wanted to hide in Kartik's arms, even if his beloved was dirty and unshaven and probably still hurt... He'd kiss his bruises one by one, forgetting his own pain and sorrow.

"The prince also came to me, asking questions about your past," Kartik said. "Harish, maybe you are a prince. I've known you only as an orphan, and maybe not even Master Zahin knows where you actually come from, but if someone saw princely features in you, maybe you'll soon be free."

Harish kissed Kartik's palm. He still felt like crying, and just wanted to die, and put an end to his misery. He couldn't believe a prince would be left living as an orphan and jester for all those years. And how could they tell who he was from his looks anyway?

The only very recognizable thing he had was his malformed hand – which might have been the very reason he'd been thrown away. Who would want a prince with a hand like his?

"Hold on, Harish." Kartik insisted. "I've tried to corrupt some of the guards, but they're all too scared for their asses to do something against the king's lust. If the prince shows up again, try to talk to him. He may be your only way out of his father's bedroom."

Harish sniffled. "All right," he whispered, keeping Kartik's warm palm against his cheek. He wasn't really keen on kissing the bearded face, but the caresses were enough for now.

"I know you're strong." Kartik flashed a smile at him. "You've been through much, but I'm sure your ordeal is almost over. Don't do anything stupid, and before you know it, we'll be out of here."

Harish lost himself in Kartik's black eyes. "I love you," he mouthed. Kartik's hand ruffled his hair as his teeth flashed again through his black beard.

"Go now." Kartik retired to the back of the cell where Harish had found him.

Reluctantly, Harish got up and left the prison. Here he was, dressed better than he'd ever been, fed and sheltered, but prisoner of a king's lust. When would he be free to live how he wanted, loving whoever he wanted, without having to obey orders of cruel or lustful masters?

At the door of the king's apartment he saw Prince Vivek approaching with a young couple. He stopped, remembering Kartik's words. Maybe Prince Vivek was his only way out.

"Rohit!" the maiden of the couple exclaimed as they approached. "How did you get here?"

Harish looked at her, confused, then noticed Prince Vivek's triumphant smile.

"So it is as I thought," the prince said. "He is your brother's lookalike."

The three noble youths reached him and surrounded him, observing him from all angles. Harish blushed and tried to concentrate on Prince Vivek.

"My lord, I was wondering if you could talk your father into releasing me and Kartik..." he started hesitantly.

"And that's why I wanted you to meet my brother's betrothed, Kareena of Amrendra," the prince replied with a grin.

The maiden gasped as she caught a glimpse of his hand, and then she took it to observe it better, frowning.

"Not Rohit," she said at last, looking him in the eyes. "But maybe his lost twin? I will have to write to my father. I never knew Rohit had a twin."

"But Amrendra has twin kings," Prince Vivek said. "And they're identical – one can't tell them apart."

The princess smiled. "We can tell which is our father and which our uncle." She squeezed Harish's malformed hand. "If you really are my brother, don't worry, you'll be out of here soon."

Harish offered her a tentative smile as his heart opened to hope.

***

Rohit entered the Lakeshian great hall still puzzled by the reason for his visit. Kareena's letter had brought tears to his father's eyes and plunged his uncle in an unusual silence. He'd been sent to check the facts, but couldn't believe he'd never been told before that he'd had a twin.

He'd always considered his cousin Ajay as "almost" twin, since they were born one day apart. The thought of a real twin wasn't so upsetting, though. A part of him had always felt like he was living a second life, although he couldn't say much about it.

King Vijay welcomed him with a frown – evidence that he wasn't happy his latest bed-toy looked like a prince. Rohit didn't care what his father-in-law did in his bedroom, but he was anxious to meet his lookalike.

King Vijay grumpily called for "Harish" and dismissed the courtiers. Only Prince Vivek, Prince Vasant and Kareena stayed in the great hall with the king to witness the meeting and hear what his father had to say on the matter. King Daruka had recommended he see the young man and listen to his heart before delivering the news.

And then the jester arrived, his eyes to the floor like a servant, and stopped near the king with a curt bow. His hair was longer than Rohit's, but he was clean-shaven and decently dressed – probably by the king. And yes, the jester was a replica of the prince heir of Amrendra.

Rohit's eyes went to the jester's right hand. His father had told him his twin brother had been sort of imperfect, hence when he'd vanished, everyone had just assumed he'd died. Rohit's heart pounded faster when he saw the malformed hand.

He took a deep breath to calm down and looked at King Vijay.

"I must thank you on behalf of my father, King Daruka. He sent me here knowing I could recognize a twin I never knew I had. Rahul vanished when he was still a sickly baby and everybody at the Amrendran court simply thought he hadn't survived. It is a miracle to see him here today, alive and healthy, twenty-five years later. I thank you for taking him under your wing, but I beg you to allow me to take my brother home, where he belongs."

King Vijay pursed his lips, thoughtful. Kareena beamed, Prince Vivek looked satisfied, Prince Vasant only curious of the outcome. Harish kept staring at his feet, but his fingers were restless.

"If you never knew you had a twin, how can you be so sure this is your brother?" King Vijay asked. "Physical resemblance is not proof enough in my opinion. I hear the king of Rajendra has lookalikes and the king of Akkora made sure to locate all the men who even vaguely resembled him."

Rohit moved one step closer to Harish and grabbed his wrist, showing the malformed hand.

"My father told me of my lost twin's deformity," he said. "Although I have no conscious memories, I've always known there was more to me. This is my long-lost twin, and I have no doubt about his identity."

He heard Harish gasp and finally met his eyes. The twin looked scared.

"Don't you realize we look the same?" he asked him.

Harish shook his head. "I don't know. I have never had a mirror."

"Oh. We are twins," Rohit explained to him. "Your name is Rahul."

"No, I'm Harish."

"That's the name you were given after your were stolen from the Amrendran palace as a baby. Your real name is Rahul of Amrendra."

His twin frowned, trying to grasp everything, and then glanced at King Vijay. "So I'm free?" he asked, hopeful.

Rohit grinned. "Yes. I've come to take you home."

"And Kartik, too?"

"Uh... who is Kartik?"

"His lover," King Vijay spat with contempt.

"My savior," Rahul corrected frantically. "Can he come, too?"

"Of course," Rohit said after a brief hesitation. They'd sort it out with their father. His twin's relief was overwhelming – he could feel it like his own.

***

Kartik was released and taken to the great hall by silent guards. He didn't dare ask them, but he hoped Harish had found a way out of King Vijay's room.

Harish brightened when he saw him,  Kartik felt tattered and dirty noticing how the jester looked more and more like a prince. Harish wasn't wearing a turban, but his elegant clothes were slightly different from the other courtiers. And next to him stood his perfect lookalike, with shorter hair and a look of nobility that showed he was a true prince – and Harish's identical twin.

Kartik bowed at both, a little puzzled by the resemblance, and apologized for his poor state.

"You shall bathe in Amrendra," Harish's twin said. "I need to take Rahul back as soon as possible."

Kartik looked at Harish. "Rahul – would that be you?"

"Yes." Harish nodded with an embarrassed smile. "I'm not a jester any more. They tell me I'm really Prince Rahul of Amrendra – and this is my twin brother Rohit."

Startled, Kartik bowed again, more deeply, at both. He followed them to the courtyard, still incredulous at Harish's new status. The former jester let his twin do the talking with King Vijay.

Then Harish took Kartik's hand and guided him to the royal wagon. It was filled with plush cushions and other commodities. They sat together in a corner and Harish nestled against him like he used to, uncaring of his silken clothes against Kartik's dirty and tattered tunic.

"What will your brother think of us?" Kartik asked, his heart swelling with gratitude at the obvious display of affection in spite of his sorry state.

"I don't care." Harish shrugged. "He's kind, but he's still a stranger. I don't care what he thinks of me."

"But he saved you from King Vijay... I still can't believe how identical the two of you are."

"Are we, really?" Harish asked, worried.

"Hopefully they'll provide you with a mirror and you'll be able to see for yourself." Kartik chuckled. "A prince... oh, my, that's a long way from being a jester!"

"And I still want you by my side," Harish declared with renewed trust. "As a councilor, a bodyguard... but mostly in my bed."

"As you wish, your highness," Kartik teased. He really, really wanted to kiss Harish, but didn't dare. He was dirty and unshaven and King Vijay had hurt his beloved and...

Suddenly Harish kissed him, ignoring his beard. The wagon started moving and when Harish let him go, Kartik realized Prince Rohit was sitting in front of them with an amused smile on his face.

"I'm sorry, my lord, I didn't mean to..."

"I believe it was Rahul who started the kiss," Rohit replied, glancing at his twin. "He obviously trusts you more than he trusts me, so I guess I'll have to welcome you to the family on behalf of our father the king."

Kartik nodded, speechless. Harish chuckled and squeezed him.

"You'll see how good-looking he is when he's not locked into a cell," he told his twin. "But don't you dare steal him from me!"

"I'm married and not interested in men," Rohit retorted. "And I sure hope you'll stay away from my wife when we get home."

"I'm not interested in women," Harish informed him with a satisfied smile. Then he lost himself in Kartik's eyes.