Page 17 of The Burning Mountain
Veer frowned as he thought it over. “It’s too risky. Chandra is better off at Samyukta’s place. I don’t want to drag her into this.”
“Why not?” said Shota slowly. “It’s the perfect plan. And Chandra won’t really be in danger. Billadev can still be there in case she needs help. All she needs is a brief audience with Namata Devi.”
“You don’t know her propensity to attract trouble,” Veer growled, slamming his fist on table. “She’s still the only one of us who can work the Lotus Key. I don’t like this.”
“You had no problem with sending the princess into risky situations before,” said a genuinely confused Billadev, dense as always to the undercurrents. “In fact, this whole quest is dangerous. I don’t understand what has changed?”
Veer maintained a brooding silence, pretending not to notice Shota leaning back and gesturing to Billadev behind his back to quit his questioning. Billadev subsided once he registered Veer’s expression.
Veer sighed and rubbed his jaw. He appreciated his friend’s efforts in trying to find a solution, but he couldn’t explain his reticence in sending Chandra into more trouble. A strange sort of fear took hold of him ever since Dandakaranya. Ever since learned about the Seven-Lives-Curse. The yaksha had warned him that he was pushing her into danger. So, although his rational mind insisted that she was a capable woman and no stranger to perilous missions, he was loath to risk her well-being. And hadn’t she suffered enough because of him?
Hoofbeats sounded in the distance, and a pair of riders appeared on horseback wearing the uniform of the Thianvelli royal guard. The dancer on the platform paused in collecting the coins that had fallen at her feet and watched in trepidation as they made their way toward her. Musicians packed up their instruments and beat a hasty retreat while the crowd dispersed rapidly.
They couldn’t hear what was being said, but the dancer suddenly tried to make a run for it. One guard caught her easily and, ignoring her shrieks and pleas, bound her hands with rope. They dragged her toward an enclosed wagon that had halted behind their horses.
“What’s happening?” whispered Veer.
“The regime has been quietly taking in people suspected of treason.” Shota’s mouth went flat in anger. “Unfortunately, this makes it easy for other people to capture innocents for nefarious reasons.”
“Time to make ourselves scarce,” said Shota, but he needn’t have spoken, they were already on the move.
8
IMPRESSIONS ON RESPONSIBILITIES
Chandra gazed impatiently out of the window of Samyukta’s house. Veer hadn’t been enthusiastic that she was at the judge’s, but she couldn’t refuse Gauri Devi’s invitation to stay. The steadyclopandcreakof the laden bullock carts were interrupted occasionally by the faster trot of a horse. It was midday, and the road had the usual assortment of people. Chandra scanned them to see if she could spot a familiar face coming toward the house.
“My mother used to tell me that a watched pot never boils,” said a soft voice. “Wishing it won’t make him come faster.”
Chandra whipped her head around, caught.
“Apologies, Princess. I didn’t mean any disrespect,” said Dhatri, Samyukta’s daughter-in-law, who kept house for him. She had a bundle of clothes in her arms—clean clothes that had dried in the hot sun on the terrace.
“Please, don’t be so formal. You can call me Chandra, like the others do.”
The woman inclined her head, still smiling. She crossed the threshold and entered the room to sit across from Chandra, perching herself on the windowsill.
“Would you mind very much, if I sit here? It’s my habit to watch the passersby as I fold the laundry.” Chandra shook her head, and Dhatri dumped the sun-warmed clothes on a small table, picked a shirt from the pile, and started folding.
Without speaking, Chandra plunged a hand into the pile and did the same. The feel of the silk caressed her hands.
“Such softness,” she said, marveling over how smooth the cloth felt as she rubbed it between her fingers. “I haven’t seen a cloth made so fine.”
“Of course, Thianvelli is famous for its silk moth. We have the finest silk manufacturers, and its export is one of the big industries here.”
“I see.”
“If you want, I’d show you the weave machine. There’s a cottage a few houses down that has one. You must be bored out of your mind.” An arched smile played about her mouth. “If the time you spend staring out the window is any sign, either you can’t wait to get out of here or you miss someone.”
Chandra ducked her head, embarrassed. “Er, it’s not a reflection of your hostess duties at all. It’s just that I’m not used to sitting still. And not to give you excuses, but I’m hopeless at domestic chores.”
Dhatri lifted her head suddenly and Chandra was struck by how very young she looked. “Heavens! I’d never dream of asking a princess for help in the kitchen.
“You must be thinking I lead the most boring life ever,” said Dhatri after a while.
Chandra, who had been wondering if this were what her life would have been like, if she wasn’t born a princess, gave her an apologetic grimace. “I’m sorry.”
An answering grin came and went quickly on Dhatri’s face, showing she wasn’t offended. “Please don’t apologize, Princess. Your thoughts are yours, when you don’t say them out loud.”
