Chapter 8 – The Clanking of Chains
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“O siblings, is it not true that one must treat the enemy with the utmost respect? Perchance we capture the enemy, what then? Do we cut off their arms and legs? Do we set them ablaze? Do we gouge their eyes out? Is this what they deserve for their poor fate? No my brothers and sisters. We must give them water and bread, shower and sleep, not trauma nor pain nor suffering nor blood. That is the way of righteousness. That is fulfilling one’s Dharma.”

- Kasand, The Epic of Azad

The wagon rolled on shakily, bumping over hills of sand as it rode forth under the scorching sun. How long had it been since his capture? Gahkhar couldn’t bring himself to remember. Two? Three weeks? He lied on the floor with his arms loosely hanging and legs stretched out, resting his back on the bars of the cage. A shackle bound his ankle to a bar. His clothes were somewhat torn. The light-headedness slowly crept on him as he gulped down on whatever saliva he had in his mouth. His lips were cracked and sweat dripped from his forehead.

Around him were the other leaders of the rebellion. They all seemed to be as roughed up as Gahkhar. Just a few more hours. Yet the mere thought made it feel like centuries would pass before he would get another bowl of water and burnt roti. Gahkhar could only hear the sizzling of the sun and the neighing of horses. Sometimes he overheard simple mutterings from the Afraari guards at the front of the wagon, but besides that nothing else.

Ever since they slept in Faran’s welcoming prison, none of them bothered to glance at one another. They all just kept their heads tilted downwards, looking towards the floor. Now wasn’t any different. Some did the aforementioned, others tried lying on their sides to pretend they were resting. None of them chose nor wished to speak. Why should they?

These fools. Gahkhar gripped his frail hands until his knuckles turned white. Worse than idiots the more he thought about it. Monkeys would be a better way to describe their recklessness. These bloody bastards. Gahkhar’s fist loosened involuntarily. He could feel the heat chipping away at his strength.

Gahkhar glanced through the bars to find the trail made by the wheels. What is the point in getting mad now? A slight gust dusted the tracks and hid them in the sea of sand. We’re dead men either way.

At the back of the carriage, the sunlight crept down the curtains and carved a white line into the wood floor. Some men tried covering their eyes with their arms. Others turned to the side without much success. Glancing around, Gahkhar could tell they were all awake judging by their groans and movements.

“Damn the light!” yelled a man, his body rolling around like a log without rest. He groaned for a few minutes more before abruptly standing up while hurling a few insults under his breath. He was a man in his forties named Din Phulkiar, or plainly Lord Phulkiar. He tried walking to a different spot but the shackle that bound him thought otherwise.

“Damn this! Damn it all!” he yelled, trying to pull his leg away only for the chain to block his effort. Gahkhar glared towards the man and opened his mouth—

“Oi! You back there! Stop trying to make noise or I’ll beat you!” shouted the guard. It seemed he didn’t have the patience either. Slowly the clanking of chains died down as Phulkiar sat back down, arms and legs crossed

“Who do we look like? Dogs?” he snapped, glancing at the other lords while beating his chest. “We are Lohaanis! Lions! We are men of honor! Why chain us li—

Soon he faced Gahkhar and his words fell silent. What was this idiot doing thumping his chest like a fool. Gahkhar’s cold eyes and flat lips spoke for his fury, which was more than what Phulkiar could contend with.

“So you can feel the shame of being locked up like a dog in this cage, yet you don’t think you should be more ashamed for what occurred for us to be here to begin with!” Gahkhar ground his teeth, his veins twitching with a deep-seated hate. “I should thank your parents. They gave us a completely useless idiot. Let me repeat that for you. A. Completely. Useless. Idiot. You insult the Phulkiar name for everyday you live.”

Phulkiar gave Gahkhar a darting gaze and bit at his lips. “I’m sorry Gahk—

“Do you think saying sorry now can make our situation any better?” snapped Gahkhar. His muscles quivered as his temper shortened with the rising heat. “Pray to the Creator. Only salvation can fix your stupidity!”

Phulkiar took a few steps back as the other lords sat up to hear the argument. To the corner beside Gahkhar sat another lord cross-legged, waving his hand down in a fragile attempt. “Gahkhar, please cal—

“Lord Dhaliwal,” Gahkhar relaxed his voice, turning to the man before him and speaking with respect. “I lost a thousand good men. A thousand.”

“We all lost a great many men Gahkhar, you weren’t the only one.”

“You don’t understand Lord Dhaliwal.” Gahkhar shook his head while lightly tapping his back heel on the floor. “They were children when I found them. Each and every one of them. I treated them like they were my own. Now I’ll have to live on knowing they died for nothing. Every. Single. One.”

Gahkhar’s tapping died down as he finished. None of them know. His eyes reddened and his breaths shortened. “They were all like my two boys. Brave and honorable... courageous and humble. All of them were like my two boys,” he said softly, pressing his fist against his chest. “Now they’re all dead. I had ordered two of them off before I was captured, but Zander charged right past us and made haste for them… I don’t know if they made it alive.” He looked up to the roof of the carriage and mumbled. “O Creator, I can only pray to thee that they arrived safely.”

Hearing his despair over the loss of his men left the others expressionless, except for Dhaliwal who furrowed his brows, revealing the wrinkles on his forehead. “They were all good men,” Gahkhar muttered. The noises from the wagon rolling and the horse neighing filled the short silence. Dust blew into the carriage, causing some of the men to rub their eyes.

After a few minutes, Dhaliwal rose and sat as close to Gahkhar as the chain binding him could allow. He reached out his arm, patting Gahkhar’s shoulder in comfort. “I’m sorry Gahkhar. I understand your sadness and anger over the deaths of your men. I also have a hard time with handling the deaths of my men, but I’ve learned one thing. The past is the past Gahkhar. It is what the Creator has written in his book,” he said in a soothing tone. “If the Creator wrote our loss than we were destined to lose, but that also means that at some other point in the future he has written our victory.”

No. 

No. 

No. No. No.

Gahkhar cleared his throat and vehemently shook his head. “Our men didn’t have to die because the Creator willed it.” He bore his cold glare towards Phulkiar who shuffled to the corner of the cage in response. “They died because of complete incompetence! Who the hell engages the Afraaris in the day! That’s why we lost our men!”

“Tthhhere’s a reas—

“What is the reason?” questioned Gahkhar, his blue veins popping like a river, acting as a conduit as he felt the sweat travel along. “I told you to engage the Afraaris during the night because then we wouldn’t have to deal with those damned crows! What made you—the genius Phulkiar—think that engaging them at the dead of day was a brilliant idea? And then why did you keep leading the men after that?”

“It’s beca—

“NO! You sent your own men to their deaths and our own men along with them!” snapped Gahkhar. “There’s no possible reason to jus—

“Silence!” screamed Dhaliwal, waving his hand downwards to motion Gahkhar to calm down. “Stop yelli—

“Oi! Its funny hearing you all scream but if you keep at it, I’ll take away your next meal! So shut up!” shouted the guard. It seemed they too had had enough with the constant bickering as well.

A tenuous calm ensued, but in the heat Gahkhar felt he could erupt once more. Everyone around him other than Phulkiar and Dhaliwal kept their heads down low, perhaps acknowledging the mishaps that happened for them to be in their current dilemma. Phulkiar had led most of the lords except for Dhaliwal and himself that night. Neither Gahkhar nor Dhaliwal had to apologize for setting the rebellion up for failure. What reason does this fool have for leading so many men to their deaths? Gahkhar’s blood boiled every second he thought about it. Why isn’t he admitting his fault?

“Let Phulkiar speak his reasoning. You keep giving him the chance to and then you consistently cut him off. Do you think that’s right?” said Dhaliwal with a somewhat raised voice. His glare made Gahkhar shiver… he’s never seen Dhaliwal look so angered before. “Even Raja Lothaar would’ve told you to stop because you handle things too emotionally.”

Raj… At the mention of the Raja’s name, Gahkhar lowered his gaze, unable to provide a rebuttal. Dhaliwal’s right. Gahkhar breathed deeply to calm his nerves and wiped the sweat off his face with his sleeve. Raja Lothaar would’ve said that. How long had it been since someone reminded him of the late Raja? He always put those memories behind him...

He could hear the faint rattling of chains from the corner. It seemed Phulkiar was crawling towards him and Dhaliwal. I should hear the man out... Even the Raja would’ve wanted that. He lifted his gaze to find Phulkiar a few feet in front of him, leaning forward as best as he could.

“Go on Phulkiar,” instructed Dhaliwal.

Phulkiar nodded and faced Gahkhar. “We had to fight them during the day because...” He quickly glanced towards the front of the carriage to check if the guards weren’t eavesdropping on their conversation.

“Because of what?” questioned Gahkhar. This better be good.

“Because our army was infiltrated.”

Infiltrated? Gahkhar furrowed his brow. How can that be possible?

“This is the first time I’m hearing this Phulkiar,” whispered Dhaliwal with a surprised look. “Explain yourself. We took in any Lohaanis who lacked a family because of the war or we received some men from the lords two fortnights before the rebellion. How could we be infiltrated at that precise moment?”

Phulkiar seemed tense. He shook his head and let out a sigh. “I’ve been thinking about it too and I don’t know how it could have happened either. But I had to march the troops the night before in fear of the situation getting any worse.”

Gahkhar glanced over towards the other lords. “Lords Bhullara, Sandhuwalia and Ahluwalia. Does he speak the truth?”

All three nodded silently, confirming Phulkiar’s statement. Gahkhar’s eyes widened, tilting his chin down. I wronged him.

“I’m sorry I hid this from you when I requested your help Gahkhar,” admitted Phulkiar. “We kept losing our battles due to the infiltrators poisoning our second-in-commands. They targeted all of them over the course of three weeks and completely collapsed our organization.”

I didn’t think it was because of this that made him fight the Afraaris that day. Gahkhar let out a heavy sigh. He felt his stomach harden as a wave of heaviness overwhelmed him. Why did I let my anger out on him? I wrongly insulted him. I’m a complete fool.

“At first they got most of my men. The next time we had more guards but they somehow slipped by and poisoned some more… I even conducted investigations, including having all of the men converse in Lohaani in the hopes of finding anyone who might stand out… but nothing came of it.”

I can’t continue on like my insults meant nothing, thought Gahkhar.

“I’m sorry Phulkiar.” Gahkhar couldn’t hold in his shame any longer. He joined his two flattened hands together. “I’m very sorry Phulkiar. To all of you frankly. I added an unnecessary burden to you all with my anger.”

Phulkiar stopped, surprised by Gahkhar’s sudden apology. “Please Gahkhar, let go of the hands! There is no need to apologize. I’m the one who is sorry! I and the rest of the lords should have explained why we had been losing our side of the rebellion as soon as we landed in the same jail.”

The other lords nodded in agreement but Gahkhar persisted. “No. I falsely accused you and insulted you and your family name. And yet… you still say my name with respect,” said Gahkhar, tears welling up in his eyes as he brought his head upwards to face Phulkiar. “I am sorry. I have done you wrong.”

“See Gahkhar, I told you! You’re too emotional!” snapped Dhaliwal. “Put those hands down! There’s no need to go down the spiel of announcing to the World that you’ve lost your honor! God knows how many times you’ve said that already.”

“B-but Lord Dhaliwa—

“I’ll slap you!”

“A-alright...” Gahkhar’s cheeks turned a bright pink from embarrassment, using his hands to rub his eyes. He brought his hands down amidst the chuckles of the other lords. But within minutes the laughter drowned out and Gahkhar could feel the lords tense up again as the question persisted in front of them. Who could’ve coordinated this?

“The Afraaris couldn’t have done this,” mused Dhaliwal. “They have a tradition of killing their enemies ‘conventionally’ rather than stoop to such low tactics. The Shah was even rumoured to have personally killed all his siblings to get to the throne rather than rely on any poison.”

“It couldn’t have been the Anapurans, Sundrans or the Horidonizai either,” added Phulkiar. “They are too far from the forest and the level of skill with this infiltration required lengthy plotting judging by the way we couldn’t uncover it despite our best efforts.”

“Hmm… It couldn’t have been the Baukans either. That new Raja of theirs is a firm admirer of The Epic. There’s no way he’d order something as dishonorable as this. He’d curse his fate until he died.”

All the possibilities cancelled each other out.

Who would’ve infiltrated us like this? Gahkhar sat cross-legged and placed his hand on his chin. “We mentioned all the neighbours. The only one left is the Confederacy.”

“Hmm, you’re right.” Dhaliwal placed his hand on his chin.

“Neither the Haraans nor the Kashaari Lords sent us any men. Sometimes they’d send supplies, but that was it.”

“That means the only ones to suspect... are the Sudhist Lords and merchants families,” interjected Phulkiar.

Mirrani, Kahlon, Jhutiwalia, Dhariwalia, Paiwalia, Vhaddawalia, Khakhar, Rungwalia, Ganjalia, Jattwalia and Bhanja. Gahkhar kept reciting the 11 Sudhist families that held power over most of Lohan. None of them seemed to be traitors…

“I don’t know who the traitor could be,” said Phulkiar.

“I’m not getting anything either,” replied Bhullara.

“Same with me,” added Sandhuwalia.

“Agreed,” answered Ahluwalia.

“It’s hard to tell. All the families on the interior have the largest territories, though it isn’t large enough to call themselves a Raja...” mused Dhaliwal.

Mirrani, Kahlon, Jhutiwalia, Dhariwalia, Paiwalia, Vhaddawalia, Khakhar, Rungwalia, Ganjalia, Jattwalia and Bhanja, listed Gahkhar like a mantra, tapping the back heel of his foot on the floor. He kept analyzing each family. Who would have gained from sabotaging us? Almost all the families had blood on their hands from the countless wars they fought. The only ones who would be free from Gahkhar’s list were the border states. So either Vhaddawalia, Jhutiwalia, Dhariwalia, Ganjalia, Jattwalia or Bhanja.

“There is a conspiracy my friends,” spoke Dhaliwal in a hushing voice. Again they rode over a mound of sand. “And it runs deep.”

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