Heart's Blood

I am sure you have seen many sunsets in your lifetime. I know I had. There is something about sunsets and twilight, a moment when the world stops, and perhaps you, too, should stop and look up at the sky. This was one of those moments.

The sky was full of clouds except at the horizon. A small yellow fireball on the horizon was surrounded by pink and orange sky. The clouds change from pink to purple and shades of dark blue. Time slowed as the light hit the water, and its reflection returned a subtle parody of the glorious sky. I felt lost. Nature always had that way of reminding me how insignificant I was in the scheme of things.

My name is Pa-le, inconsequentially I am but an observer of this tale. My life has been a long one, and I have seen and been witness to many events which shaped the world of my birth. The sunset I write about occurred on the day the great emperor passed away on the end of a battle spear. He was not, however, in battle at the time. He had innocently consented to spar with his ten-year-old grandson. Accidents happen in all walks of life and this was one even the soothsayers had missed. Or had they? I sometimes wonder if they had missed it on purpose.

Little Kumar did not at first realize his grandfather had died. Rumor paints a picture of the little prince sitting by his grandfather's side, asking him to stop pretending. After some time, with tears streaking his cheeks, the little boy cries for help and is answered by a passing servant. In such a manner was the cause of death determined.

The real story is somewhat different. Little Kumar, small for his age of ten years, was not strong enough to lift a battle spear. He had been studying a parchment in the gazebo some distance from where the Emperor was to meet a secret guest. The customary sweep of the gardens had not found the little prince as he had climbed to the top of the gazebo so as to hide from his tutors. Kumar dropped his papers at a loud commotion and came running to find his grandfather injured by the battle spear. With no one else in sight, the prince had sought help. His frantic cries were not heard until the changing of the guards, which did not occur for some hours. Whoever had planned the deed had done so well. As the guards reacted to the situation, they found their predecessors had been mysteriously murdered as well.

So what of the prince who had sat by his dying grandfather for hours? It is said he was never the same carefree child. Little Kumar was no longer 'little' thereafter. For one, the rumormongers spread the tale of the prince, causing the emperor's death. But more importantly, the words passed between grandfather and grandson over those few minutes or hours would live in Kumar's memory.

The emperor passed away at sunset. In the twilight hours, the gardens take on a haunted light. As no one had come to light the lamps, Kumar had sat for hours in darkness with no company but for his tears. He had not spent much time with his grandfather before.

The old man had earned the name "Sinha," or lion, for his courage, strength, and brilliant leadership. However, his children and grandchildren saw him more as a legend and could not become close to him in their awe. Kumar accepted the medallion pushed into his hands by those covered in blood and used it to dig a small hole under a nearby rose bush. Following his instincts, he buried the insignia and returned to watching the body as had also been requested.

When the guards arrived, the boy was taken aside for questioning. Somewhat battered and bruised, he was returned to his parents. As the son of the emperor's youngest offspring, Kumar's more ambitious relatives decided the best way to hide a problem was to remove it. Fortunately for Kumar, he was packed up and sent to a boarding school on the farthest borders of the empire until he came of age to find his way in life.

Due to the rumors which were now spreading through the empire, Kumar found it easy to fall into a new life where he was simply the wealthy son of a merchant as opposed to a relation of the new emperor. His parents, wishing to be close to their only son, had moved to the village and assumed a similarly humble role. Meanwhile, elsewhere in the empire, blood was spilled as men's fortunes were made.

Ten years passed, and in those ten years, ten emperors rose and fell in succession. The empire had managed to hold firm due to its age and the weakness of the countries surrounding it. However, after ten years of instability, certain kingdoms eyed the borders with increasing greed.

The first emperor to follow Sinha was his eldest son. He was welcomed as a successor and held most of his father's views. Unfortunately, he fell from his horse during a parade and fell into a sleep from which he could not wake.

His son took his place as a reagent for a year, becoming emperor after his father's death. The populace suspected naught as two years had passed before the new emperor took his place. As long as life follows along the same paths, people can be kept generally at ease.

An unfortunate aside is that during this time, much unknown to them, the lives of the Sinha family were greatly endangered. An accidental fire removed the second son and his family in the second year after the Sinha's death. I can only assume that the hidden enemy had forgotten Kumar, as he was rumored to have caused his grandfather's death. Most people assumed the young prince had been disinherited. However, as we shall see, this was not the case.

Succession in the empire followed the ancient laws of passing inheritance to only male children. Female children generally wed into such arrangements. Both of the Sinha's daughters had wed out-kingdom, so their children would not succeed in absence of another heir.

Sinha III turned out to be of the same make as his father. He was mourned when a ferry bearing him across one of the rivers sank, carrying him down with it. His uncle succeeded him only to catch pneumonia that winter while hunting. Sinha V had no better fate. He fell down a flight of stairs and never regained consciousness. His son, eternally paranoid of the position he believed cursed, would not leave his apartments. Driven to a breakdown, he abdicated. This maneuver did nothing to break the curse now commonly believed to plague the royal family. He died from alcohol poisoning soon afterwards.

The seventh Sinha brought about dramatic reforms to the military. He had always been a military man and, with his honor guard, believed he was untouchable. He lasted three years before he was hit by 'friendly fire.' His son survived three days before he was struck with dysentery.

In the reign of the ninth Sinha, Kumar came of age. In eight years, he had managed to keep himself out of the limelight. Not very many of his fellows knew him well. However, he had excelled in sports and weapons such that he had no trouble changing his name and being recruited and sent to the capital as one of many potential bodyguards to the royal family.

He had not forgotten his grandfather's dying words in those eighteen years. Upon reaching the capital, he visited his cousin, the crown prince, and offered his services. His cousin did not recognize him after so much time, yet a friendship soon developed. Kumar maintained his position and eventually found himself on duty in the very gardens that had haunted his dreams for the last nine years.

The rose bush was still as he had left it, saving for a plaque at the spot where his grandfather had died. It was in full bloom and had outgrown the little plot it had initially stood in. Without drawing too much attention to himself, he managed to stoop down and use one of his knives to dig out the medallion he had buried. It was as he had left it.

Deep in thought, he found his way to where the emperor and crown prince rested. Whether he was debating whether or not to give the medallion to one or both is unknown. In the end, he made no mention of the medallion.

After another year, the emperor may have suspected the curse was lifting. You can imagine his shock when he suffered a severe heart attack. He was found in his room by a bodyguard. His son agreed to meet the same bodyguard in the garden by the rose bush three days later to lift the curse.

The new emperor arrived at the location to find his cousin Kumar waiting. Dressed in the finery of his birthright, Kumar had shaved his beard and cut his hair. Sinha X stared in awe at his cousin's likeness to the Sinha, now long dead. His cousin held a battle spear. Suddenly, all came clear. The emperor knew that somehow, his cousin had known all these years who had struck Sinha with a battle spear and whose father it had been who had silenced the guards. Kumar knew who had set fire to his uncle's house and ensured his niece and nephew were also inside. Kumar knew who had masterminded the plan and who had been accomplice. As Sinha X's expression revealed the truth before the emperor could react, he found himself lying near the rose bush with blood rushing from a deep wound.

A hint of gold caught the dying emperor's eye. As the light faded, he saw his grandfather's medallion, the symbol of courage, strength, and brilliant leadership, hanging around Kumar's neck. The medallion he had sought to take from his grandfather so many years ago as the spoilt son of an ambitious man. The light faded. The sun went down, giving way to darkness.

The nice thing about a sunset is that the sun rises again after a time. Sunrises are beautiful, too though we are not usually awake to see them. Kumar ruled for a great many decades. He had many sons and daughters and ensured a close relationship with and between them. He died in his sleep of old age sometime after sunset but not before he told me his tale.