INSEPARABLE II

XXIV

"She didn't have the courage to say this to the Queen, so she wrote to you directly." Rajjo said softly.

For a moment, Prem could not breathe. His vision was blurred by a dam of tears and he felt an ache arise in the deepest cavity of his heart. He thought the ground was slipping away from under his feet and if he didn't faint, he would fall to the ground for sure.

His step stumbled and Hakam immediately fastened his arms around his best friend to steady him. "Chief..." he stated in a desperate attempt to hold him together.

Prem looked at him. His face was blank but the sea of tears in the Chief's eyes offered Hakam a glimpse of his inner misery.

"Chief, sit down." Hakam took a step towards the wooden stairs of the carriage and guided Prem down to sit.

Prem still did not speak. He stared at the velvet fabric in his hand and then opened it up again as if to reread its words. A river of tears trailed down his cheeks as he reread the message. And then, letting it drop from his hold, he placed his face into his hands and sniffled away between uncontrollable tears.

Unable to see the most powerful warrior he had ever come across in that condition, a teary eyed Hakam reached for the Chief to comfort him but Rajjo held his hand. He faced her and she simply shook her head, also crying silently. "Let him," she whispered softly. "Don't interrupt this."

Nodding, Hakam withdrew. For a moment, all three of them silently wept in their respective positions. The guards stood frozen around them without the audacity to move as much as a finger. Neither Rajjo, nor Hakam rushed to end the Chief's outpour of emotions.

When Prem finally got a hold of himself, he wiped his cheeks and swallowed before sighing, "where is he?" His voice broke.

Rajjo gestured at the carriage behind him when Hakam stepped up to be next to Prem for support as he rose to his feet. As Rajjo opened the polished wooden door of the carriage, Prem held his breath and Hakam placed a hand on his shoulder. Slowly drawing back the silk red drape, in the golden light of the lamp burning within the carriage, Rajjo revealed the most precious sleeping child Prem had ever set his eyes on. It was as if he were staring into a mirror, one that took away nearly 27 years of age from him. The boy perfectly resembled the younger version of him.

Strands of curly dark brown hair fell onto the golden skin complexion of his forehead. He had long, thick lashes, round cheeks, and a small pointed nose. He wore three jeweled necklaces around his small neck and the fine blue silk kurta with gold embroidery. Each of his wrists had around them a gold ringlet with tiny ghungroos which Prem imagined made noise every time he moved his hands. The child was perfect. And he was Prem's. He was Zorawar Singh Sandhu Dhaliwal. Prem could not believe his eyes or his destiny.

"This is my son, Hakam..." Prem stated in between his tears.

Hakam nodded in tears of his own and gripped at the Chief's shoulder.

"My son..." Prem cried taking Hakam into a hug.

When their tears came to a pause, Prem turned back towards the carriage and slowly reached in. His trembling hand slowly made contact with the bare skin of the boy's arm and Prem held back sobs as he once again broke down into his other hand supporting himself with an elbow on the red cushioned seat.

Prem could not believe it. He half suspected he was dreaming and would be woken as soon as he touched the boy. He hadn't. The child was still very much there, he was still touching him and Hakam and Rajjo were still crying behind him. He didn't know where his tears were coming from but figured it had something to do with the fact that he never fully mourned the absence of his son when he returned from the war. He simply blocked away any thoughts related to Zorawar and his loss to avoid facing the emotions that would break loose if he did. He let his anger for Noor drown and overtake his sorrow of losing his child. But in that moment, his emotions were suddenly inescapable. Five years of suppressed pain had suddenly been brought to the surface and Prem was inconsolable.

On one hand his happiness knew no bounds that his son had been returned to him but on the other hand, he was absolutely furious that he had been taken away in the first place. While he was beyond excited to introduce his child to his family, his province...his Noor, he did not have slightest clue of how he was going to find the courage to break this news to her. Worse yet, having read just everything Noor had to go through all alone during the war, Prem wanted rip his skin off himself in punishment for not hearing her out once after he returned. He had been bombarded with so much that he simply did not know his next step.

"You need to get a hold of yourself, Chief." Hakam squeezed Prem's shoulder. "We need to take Lord Dhaliwal back to the palace."

"Lord Dhaliwal..." Prem repeated in a sniffle wiping his cheeks. He let on a small smile. "My son is the junior Lord of the Dhaliwals." He then turned towards Rajjo. She was still crying. "I don't know how to thank you, Rajjo." Prem said slowly. "I just...don't have any words."

"You don't need to thank me, Chief. I did it for myself." Rajjo sobbed. "I just couldn't trust anyone else with Noor Sandhu and Prem Dhaliwal's son."

Her words called more tears to Prem's eyes and he shook his head once again unable to believe his and Noor's luck with the people they had been blessed with.

"We should go..." Hakam suggested, looking around at the guards.

Prem nodded looking into the carriage once again. "Can I take him with me on Badshaah?" He asked skeptically.

"Absolutely not." Rajjo replied at once, forgetting in that moment that she was speaking to the Chief of Kurral himself.

Taken aback, both Prem and Hakam's eyes shot over to her.

Realizing what she had done, Rajjo's eyes widened and she looked down. "I'm sorry, Chief." She immediately apologized. "I'm afraid taking a sleeping child on a stallion at midnight is not very safe..."

Prem let out a laugh. "Yeah...Zorawar's been raised by the right person." He stated. "As you wish, My Lady." He smiled at Rajjo before turning back towards the carriage. He touched the sleeping boy one last time before holding the curtain back for Rajjo to climb in. Once she entered, he looked at the child for another moment and then finally drew close the curtain and shut the door.

Prem and Hakam rode ahead of the carriage and the small caravan of guards on horseback surrounding it. They discussed what area of the palace to keep Zorawar in as it wasn't possible to immediately produce him before the family. The palace was large enough to host guests for months without them ever coming across the permanent residents of it. The only issue was that Prem wanted to keep Zora near himself. He wasn't sure he would be able to go an hour without his son anymore. He was in deep turmoil as they arrived at the palace gates.

Prem brought Badshaah to a stop and Hakam gestured at the men behind them to come to a pause as well. Dismounting his horse, Prem walked back to the carriage and opened its door. "I need him for a moment." He told Rajjo and she nodded helping him as he took his son into his arms and walked back to the front. He stared at the child in his arms for a few moments. It felt like he was holding the whole world. He had met this child less than an hour ago and he knew every inch of him would fight the world in an instant for him.

In front of the gates stood a line of ten guards. Seeing the Chief, they hustled to open the gates at once and stood with their heads bowed in two lines of five. Arriving in the center of the gates, Prem stared ahead at his enormous palace. It's magnificent walls of white marble softly reflecting the moonlight. He stared into the darkness behind him into what would be a scene of villages below the hill during the day. It was his son's first day in Kurral so he got down on a knee with his sleeping child still in his arms and took a pinch of dirt from the ground below.

"Kurral, the land of your father, welcomes you, My Lord." He said softly making a streak with the dirt of Kurral across his forehead. Then taking the young Lord's right foot, Prem placed it on the center of the entry at the gates. "Your heir." He said into the air as his hand pressed into the ground next to the tiny foot.

Careful not wake him, Prem gently repositioned him into his hold and walked back over to the carriage, placing him between the luxurious red velvet cushions again.