Page 28 of The Burning Mountain
Chandra had tried to see Namata Devi again but was refused entry today as well. Not that she had expected a different answer, but Chandra would have liked to have seen her one last time before she left the palace. If only for a final chance to divine the secret behind the hiding place of the key piece. Out of desperate curiosity, she had tried to go to the treasury herself, but was shooed away by the one of the rotating guard patrols for loitering outside.
She hated leaving things unfinished and had a nagging suspicion she was missing something right in front of her nose.
To top it all, the shawl lay in one corner, several threads poking out of it. Her fingers cramped from pulling out stitches all morning. Despite the order to no longer work on it, she was strangely committed to finishing it to Namata Devi’s exact specifications.
Except commitment didn’t seem to yield results, and it looked worse than ever. Why oh why didn’t she pay attention while learning such skills like her other sisters? Honestly, though, she never thought she would need such skill, which only went to show how narrow-minded she was. She had a new respect for Thianvelli’s expert weavers, who worked with a much finer thread and complex designs.
“Me could help with that,” said Matangi, as she walked into their shared quarters and saw Chandra morosely picking at the shawl.
“Sure,” said Chandra sarcastically. “And what would you want this time? My bangles, perhaps?”
“Your bangles made of gold but there be weapons inside. No use for me,” said Matangi. Then she brightened. “Maybe you trade me those earrings?”
“But these are plain bronze. Wouldn’t you want something more valuable?” said a surprised Chandra, touching a hand to the ones that Veer had made for her. She had no intention of giving them away, but wondered why the girl was interested.
“Yes.” Matangi lowered her head to hide her blush. “Buthemade them for you, right?”
Chandra gave her a fondly exasperated glare. She forgot Matangi still seemed to harbor an infatuation on Veer.
“Forget that,” amended Matangi hastily. “Me only joking. Of course me do it for free for you.”
“He won’t suit you, Matangi,” said Chandra.
“Matangi knows.” She sighed. “’Tis not that me fond of him. But if me ever marry, t’would be someone like him…who loves his wife and makes things for her.”
Chandra jerked at her words, barely stopping herself from disabusing her observation that Veer loved her. But if she and Veer were going to be masquerading as a loving couple, it wasperhaps better if people didn’t know things weren’t exactly as cordial between them.
“If I knew better handicrafts I could make you something, but alas,” said Chandra, changing the subject. “Perhaps I could buy you something as thanks once we get out of here?”
Matangi brightened once again. “Me likes a nose ring. My brother promised me one, but he forgets all about it.”
It was tradition that every woman in Thianvelli had a custom-made nose ring, either given by their birth family or the one they have married into. To not have one was akin to being an orphan in the truest sense.
Chandra opened her mouth remembering her mother’s response when she asked for one herself. To ask for one was crass and insensitive.
But she wasn’t from Thianvelli. She could gift whoever she liked.
“Deal.” Chandra beamed. “Now help me with this shawl. I should’ve just asked for your help before.”
She watched as Matangi silently counted the stitches and started working the needle nimbly.
Restless, and bothered by her uselessness, she started packing their meager belongings. “We shall depart in a few hours, Matangi. The flower sellers will leave in the evening, so we can join them on their way out. You need to disappear too.”
“Oh? So soon? Something be happening tonight?” said Matangi, placing her tongue between her teeth as she concentrated.
Matangi glanced up at Chandra’s silence and caught her somber expression. “Right. Better if me don’t know details. Matangi gets it.”
There was a brief silence and then she continued as she expertly wove the needle through the cloth. “Matangi likes herefor a festive occasion like Namata Devi’s marriage. Shame that she be getting married to him.”
After their first meeting Chandra had sent word to Samyukta’s house, via Billadev, who could move more freely than her, informing him about Namata Devi’s refusal to join the rebellion. Privately, Chandra wondered at her reasons behind the decision.
There was something about Namata Devi, who was as abrasive as she remembered, but still she couldn’t help but suspect there was more to her actions. Namata Devi lived under constant threat and surveillance. Every word she uttered seemed to have some underlying meaning.
“People usually think its fortunate since she’s getting married to someone much younger than her,” said Chandra, wondering how Namata Devi felt about her fate.
Matangi made a face. “But him…”
“What is your objection to Nandiketu, exactly?” asked Chandra curiously.
