Chapter 11 Priya #2
“There is not a single highborn familiar with the intricacies of Parijatdvipan politics that I would feel comfortable entrusting with the task of supporting you on this journey,” Bhumika said. “And I can only teach you so much before you leave.”
“You tried to teach me once to be a lady’s maid,” Priya said defeatedly. “And I failed miserably at that. It may not be worth the effort.”
“Well, you surely have more incentive this time,” Bhumika said. “You may learn. We will try.”
Bhumika did not sound sure of their success. That was fair.
“How can you trust me not to ruin everything?”
“Who else do I have to trust but you, Pri?”
True. Awful, but true.
“I think the empress has a vested interest in keeping you alive,” Bhumika went on, voice low.
“She thinks she knows what you are. Your strengths, and your weaknesses. She will not expect you to be a canny little politician. She will protect you from the worst of her own courtiers. So you must be what she wants and needs you to be instead, and hope that is enough to keep you safe. We’ll arrange you a suitable retinue and what lessons we can. ”
“Don’t send a big retinue with me,” Priya said, speaking slowly as she stumbled through her own thoughts, trying to make sense of them. “Don’t. The Parijatdvipans… I think it’s better if they underestimate us.”
“Your Malini wants you for what you can do,” Bhumika said quietly. “They’ll know sooner or later exactly what an elder of Ahiranya is capable of. They will see, and they will fear you.”
“Not if they think we’re her puppets,” said Priya.
“Not if they think we’re in her power and need her patronage to survive.
What threat is a single woman with no allies, even if she has something powerful in her?
” Priya smiled wryly. “It’s almost the truth, isn’t it?
So it won’t be hard to convince anyone.”
“No,” Bhumika said, voice unreadable. “I suppose not.”
Priya brushed her arm against Bhumika’s. “I thought you’d be happy.”
“Happy to see you go? No.”
“Happy that you don’t have to part with many soldiers,” Priya said. “You need every single one you have. And I’ll take care of myself just fine. Perhaps I’ll ask Sima to go with me. It’ll keep her from taking the waters, at least—”
“Priya.”
Priya went silent then. Silent and still. The timbre of Bhumika’s voice—the solemn note in it—held her fast.
“Promise me you’ll survive and come home,” Bhumika said.
Priya swallowed.
“How can I promise that?” They both knew how dangerous the world could be—how quickly, brutally, easily a loved one could die and leave you behind, no matter how much they yearned to stay.
“Promise me,” Bhumika repeated.
Bhumika had never asked for a promise that couldn’t be kept. Her eyes were shining, suspiciously damp despite the severity of her expression. And Priya could only look away from her, and swallow through the thickness of her own throat, and nod.
“I promise,” Priya said. “When all this is over, I’ll come home to you.”
There was no point in dallying. So Priya packed her possessions and passed on what responsibilities she could.
If Ganam thought it was traitorous of her to abandon Ahiranya at a Parijatdvipan imperial’s bidding, he didn’t say so, and the other mask-keepers were equally quiet.
She was sure they were planning something—but if what they wanted was the chance to pass through the waters again, Bhumika was ready to provide it.
I hope they’re ready to dig new graves, Priya thought grimly. She’d warned Ganam. That was all she could do.
Billu packed her some hashish. “And some arrack too,” he said. “Vile shit it is, but who knows when you’ll need it.”
“Where did you even get so much of this?” Priya asked skeptically.
“I’m a close advisor of the temple elders, aren’t I? People give me things.”
“Billu, if you’ve been accepting bribes from people—”
“You’ll do what?”
“Encourage you to get better-quality items,” Priya said. “That’s what.”
He snorted.
“I bartered for it,” he admitted. “It’s mine by a fair trade. And now it’s yours.”
“When will I have time to use all of this?”
“You’re going to join an army, aren’t you? It’s not for you, girl. It’s for making friends. You’ll win over soldiers faster with drugs and liquor than you ever will with pretty words.”
“Thank you,” she said. “I’m not—what do you want in return?”
“Why would I want anything? It’s a gift.” When she repeated her thanks, he shrugged and said gruffly, “Just get yourself back swiftly. You’ll be missed.”
She said goodbye to Rukh next.
“You’ll be back soon enough,” he said resolutely.
“Ah, you won’t even pretend you’re going to miss me?” Priya put on a front of anger, crossing her arms. “And after all I’ve done for you!”
Rukh gave a sigh, and rolled his eyes. But then he hugged her. He was a terrible hugger—all sharp, growing limbs and awkwardness. But she could feel the fierceness of his affection in the way his arms tightened around her. Helplessly fond, Priya hugged him in return.
“Thank you for all you’ve done for me, Priya,” he said. “I’ll miss you.”
“That’s better.” She patted his head, even as he grumbled and shied away. He rubbed his knuckles over his eyes, clearing his throat.
“When you come back, I’ll be using a proper saber,” he told her. “You wait and see, you’re going to be so impressed.”
“You’re not at all worried I might not come back, then?” He shook his head. “Brat.” She ruffled the leaves of his hair, and this time he allowed it, laughing.
“You’re stronger than anyone,” he said. He met her gaze, and his face turned serious. “You’ll be fine.”
“Are you trying to comfort me?”
He shook his head.
“You know you’re strong,” he said. “But maybe you need to know that everyone knows.”
Everyone did think she was strong.
Everyone but Bhumika, who said she trusted her, who was letting her go, but had looked at her with strange, damp eyes and begged a promise out of her. Come home.
Priya put that disquiet aside and sought out Sima.
She found her in Priya’s own chambers, carefully folding a sari. There was already a salwar kameez neatly packed on her cot, a sachet of dried herbs for sweetness tucked into a sleeve.
Priya touched the kameez. She was almost sure she’d worn this in the training yard and dirtied it.
“You washed my clothes?”
“Was someone else going to do it?” Sima retorted.
“I could have.”
“You hardly have the time,” she said. “Besides, I don’t mind.”
Priya looked up.
“I told Bhumika,” Priya said, “that I’d take you with me.”
“Me?” Sima blinked at her, mouth parted. “Why?”
“Don’t you want to come?”
“I… who else? Just me?”
“Jeevan said he could spare a few men. So them. You. And that messenger Yogesh’s men.”
Sima was staring at her, still holding the sari in her hands.
“Why?” Sima asked again.
Priya hesitated. She didn’t know how to say the truth.
That she saw how their changed positions galled Sima, at least a little.
That Priya could feel the rift between them.
That she didn’t blame Sima for it. That it was okay to want more.
And that if Priya could give it to her—give her the opportunities and dangers she craved, give her a path to move forward upon—then she would.
“It would be good to have a friend with me,” Priya said instead. “If… if you want to come. It might be an adventure.”
“An adventure,” Sima said flatly. “It’s war, Pri. It’s going to be a nightmare.”
“You’re probably right.”
“Going with you would be… Pri, you shouldn’t have asked me.”
“But I have,” Priya said. “And I mean it. If you want to come—there’s a place for you. I just can’t promise it’s a safe one.”
For a moment, Sima was silent. Then she sighed and bowed her head.
Priya could see the new looseness in her shoulders, and the smile growing on her mouth. Then Sima straightened up and abruptly began to walk away. “You can finish your own packing,” she said. “I’ve got my own to sort out now. Spirits, Pri, you could have given me some notice.”
“I’m sorry!” Priya called at her back.
“No you’re not!”
Priya grinned. No. She wasn’t.