Page 50 of Her Soul for a Crown
Anula bit back a groan. Though it was nice to hear a reasonable explanation, it took away any comfort she had left. “Does that mean I’ll see your nightmares, too?”
“I do not know,” Kama said. “Mayhap you see only the first cart.”
A silver lining, finally. “And the tether? It hasn’t itched since I saw you.”
If she only had to stay near one of the four, perhaps her cage wasn’t as small as she’d thought.
Kama smiled, crooked and unsettling. “Continue your walk, Anula. That is what you want, is it not? Go on. You have survivedthe worst once before. What is another try, if in the end you get what you desire?”
Anula fell rigid, an ache knocking at her heart, a want prickling beneath her sari. “I’m merely a wife, Yakka. My wants lie back in bed and think of the kingdom.”
She turned swiftly and left.
But she was not listening to the Yakka’s instruction. She’d already been testing the tether’s boundaries. And it wasn’t as though she could mete out justice to Prophet Ayaan with two Yakkas lingering around. Abandoning her second attempt, she picked up her skirt and flew out the palace doors. A guard who wasn’t Bithul nipped at her heels, the houses of the inner city her new goal. If her theory was correct, if she could position the Yakkas just so, she could move freely throughout the city.
An itch flared as she passed a group of courtiers. Scraping a hand along the mehendhi, Anula pushed forward. The tether fluttered against her ribs. One, two, three steps—pain seared her arms. She clenched her jaw and took a step back, then another, until only the pull remained. Cursed Yakkas, she hadn’t even made it to the concubine estate. Heat burned her face. This was futile.
Nothing worth wanting is had easily, girl.
Anula touched her necklace. She couldn’t give up. Waiting could take weeks, years even. She doubted the Divinities made the relic easy for a Yakka to find.
What, then, was there to do? What would Auntie Nirma have done? Pray, but that’s what had gotten Anula into this mess. Beg?Never.She’d rather confront problems head-on, grasp them by the throat, and squeeze. Auntie Nirma would’ve told her to find her enemy’s enemy, ally with them, or else threaten the enemy’s most valued asset, regardless of—
Anula’s pulse quickened. All she had to do was threaten the relic. But the Blood Yakka knew what constrained her, knew she wouldn’tbe able to search past him. The only way a threat would work was if she had an ally. Someone who could seek faster and farther.
She could go to the kitchens, but Premala’s peculiar behavior left her more of a question mark than anything. That left only one. Anula spun to her guard. “Where is Bithul?”
***
The answer was training. Not with other guards, nor for his own benefit. Bithul stood in the center of the military training yard, close to the palace. The itch of the tether disappeared as Anula watched the sweat-glistened guard disarm a young man in less than a minute.
The soldier fell, but instead of cutting him shallowly to teach him a lesson, Bithul reached a hand down and lifted the man up. “You have much skill with the sword. It’s your footwork that needs practice. Remember that you want to be lithe, like a jungle cat. If your enemy can’t catch you, they can’t harm you.”
“Yes, sir,” the young man said, bowing deep. “I’ll practice harder. Next time, then, it’ll be you in the dirt with ankles about your neck.”
A tense moment pulsed, then Bithul laughed. “Would you like to bet a month’s salary on it?”
“Two months. Plus a bottle of palm wine.”
“That sure, are you, Shahan?”
“Sure enough that you’re getting old.”
The two shared a congenial laugh, and Anula narrowed her eyes. Bithul slid his sword into the scabbard at his hip, pulled it from his waist, and touched it to the ground. The cane now held both his weapon and his weight, as he clapped Shahan on the shoulder and walked him to the edge of the ring. Anula smiled to herself. She’d known his cane looked odd.
Bithul stopped short at the sight of her. “Raejina Consort.” He and Shahan bowed.
“This is what you do on your day off?” She lifted a brow at the lather on his broad chest, gray curls nearly darkened to black. “No wonder the wives’ gazes follow us around. And here I thought it was because of me.”
Bithul nodded a dismissal to the young soldier. “May I be of help, Raejina Consort?”
“Yes, but first tell me what you’re doing here. You haven’t been part of the army since your ankles were hacked to sinew and bone.”
“No,” he agreed, frowning as he pulled on a tunic. “The skirmishes with the Polonnaruwa Kingdom have doubled, and it’s important to me that the men are trained well.”
“So that they, too, can cut their attackers’ hands? Or was it their heads?”
He grimaced. “What can I help you with, Raejina Consort?”
