Page 107 of The Burning Mountain
“Veer struck a bargain because he loves her,” said Billadev sardonically.
I think I do too. Just a little bit. Surasen watched his men, who appeared as dazed as he felt, but thankfully not too hurt. They were alive because of her.
PART IV
MERU
52
THE RAJAKOOTAMI
The assembly hall in Taxilla was long, with numerous pillars and gleaming marble floors covered in carpets of rich, jewel-bright colors, set with ornate throne-like seats every few feet. Veer was at one end of the hall, his throne raised on a small dais. People milled about and moved freely around the perimeter, pausing here and there but the center was left clear.
By previous standards, though, this year’s gathering was sparse.
They had always conducted the meeting of kings here, in Taxilla, a city in the fertile plains of the River Saptavarshi. Due to its location, closer to the center of the Saptavarsha, it was an appropriate choice for the meeting, making it easy for the other kingdoms to gather here.
A low buzz of hushed conversation filled the hall. Hoysyala’s high-ranking nobles hobnobbed in one corner. Hoysyala’s king had decided to send them instead of his precious sons, and the nobles didn’t seem too happy about it, judging by their frowns and agitated gestures. They were in close discussion with some of Manipura’s advisors, who also had seen fit to not send their royalty. The topic of Meru was an open secret by now.
Thianvelli’s Naga Bhairava had chosen to absent himself but had sent his middle son, who sat alone and sullen. None of the neighbors seemed inclined to speak to him, which made the frown on his face deepen, possibly scaring away even more people who may have had half a mind to engage him in conversation.
Veer had heard that the wedding of Namata Devi and Nandiketu was celebrated with due pomp and ceremony. People, of course, paid more attention to the juicy rumor that followed, about Ketuvahana being struck with an affliction that rendered him dumb and indisposed.
As always, Amaravathi’s seat remained empty—they hadn’t accepted Rajgarh’s sovereignty over Saptavarsha and refused to attend every year since theRajakootamibegan. Even Prince Bhupathi had decided to sit this meeting out, in consideration of his father’s political stance.
It was interesting to observe the clique-like behavior when people of different kingdoms, fiefdoms, and principalities gathered. Finding as many differences as similarities in people was such an ingrained behavior no matter the place.
Under other circumstances, perhaps, Veer would have been amused by their behavior, but his own problems were at the forefront of his mind.
The reason his uncle arrived days early became clear when hushed whispers reached his ears that Veer was going to propose to Revathi. Just one more way to twist his arm that Veer didn’t appreciate.
The antique bronze mirror he used to reach Surasen rested in a front pocket of his garment, close to his heart. He was tempted to check it again but restrained himself. He had been glancing into it every few hours for the past few days, to the point it was driving him insane.
Surasen finally answered an hour ago. It rested his mind a little that Chandra was out of Vivismati’s clutches, a fact that his uncle was still unaware of—his attention focused on the mess he was creating here.
But Veer wouldn’t be able to take a deep enough breath until he had Chandra back where she belonged, in his arms.
The scar on his shoulder gave a warning twinge. During the battle with the Makara, he had sustained a poisoned wound on his shoulder. It had healed but left a widereminderbehind that still gave him trouble whenever he was anxious.
Veer glanced around the hall once more and noticed the sea king’s presence. Samudra never missed being present at theRajakootamibut today, he too, seemed lost in thought, resting his chin on his hand and his gaze far away, his mouth downturned. Which was quite unlike the king to waste an opportunity to rub shoulders with his more powerful neighbors.
A gong sounded, signifying the start of the actual meeting and silence fell gradually in waves, as people took their assigned seats. A court scribe began the meeting.
Chandeliers made of colorful glass beads, lit by dozens of candles, were hoisted up on the ceiling, suspended by ropes—a new purchase Veer had commissioned last year, from the glassworkers of Sirkap. Light blazed down, reflecting on the clear marble. For some reason the brightness was hard to bear today. Perhaps it was because he had been getting less sleep lately and his eyes felt tired and heavy.
Veer listened with an unfocused air as the meeting droned on—discussing the various topics that affected their kingdoms, mostly border disputes and some trade disagreements. The issue of the rise of crime in the Borderlands was brought up, but no one had a solution to it.
His uncle tried to catch his eye, but Veer turned his face away deliberately, his action not going unnoticed by those closest to him, but Veer couldn’t care less.
In truth, his father usually presided over theRajakootami. But with the situation at Meru, Veer volunteered to go to Taxilla, which was a five-day ride from their capital, and he could accomplish the trip in only a few hours, thanks to Vihari.
That, and his uncle’s demand for his presence this year.
There was a lull in the sound level and Veer realized it was time for his announcement.
He stood and faced the hall, hands behind his back. As succinctly as possible, he presented the problem of Meru and reassured the assembled people that they have the wherewithal to stop the explosion from happening.
No one was surprised, although most acted like they had no idea. Veer permitted their ambivalent condolences and fake shock with a weary grace.
