Chapter 11
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Eleven
Two days later
Constance jabbed her elbow into Ellie’s ribs. “Wake up, Eleanora! You’re missing Nandapur!”
She returned her attention to the window of the carriage, soaking up the view with a hungry sense of wonder as Ellie blearily lifted her head.
Constance shared the conveyance with Ellie, Neil, Mr. Mahjoud…
and Adam’s dog. Kalb had been unceremoniously tossed in with them a few hours before.
They had completed the two-day journey from Puri at a breakneck pace.
As they moved deeper into the Odishian countryside, muddy rice paddies had given way to rolling green hills speckled with wildflowers.
All of their travel had been expertly arranged, from the first-class tickets waiting for them at the train station to the well-sprung carriage they had transferred to after completing the rail leg of their journey.
The carriage only seated four—plus the dog. Adam had quickly volunteered to ride on horseback instead, along with a trio of Uncle Vijay’s guards, who had forgone their vivid livery for less conspicuous attire.
Ellie rubbed her eyes. Kalb thumped his tail hopefully. Mr. Mahjoud looked bored.
Neil had stuck his nose into a book all day. He pulled it out at Constance’s exclamation, blinking through his spectacles at the window as though just realizing there was still a world outside.
They passed down a broad street lined by charming buildings painted in bright colors.
Rolling hills rose up behind the structures, richly green with the abundant rains of the monsoon.
The town was busy with shoppers and pedestrians.
Vendors showed off their wares under bright awnings.
Constance spotted the confectionery layers of a temple rising to the east behind a market that covered most of a tree-lined plaza.
It was all she could do not to jump from the moving carriage to explore.
Ellie leaned over to share the window, her curiosity awakening with the rest of her.
A twenty-foot wall loomed ahead of them, punctuated by two gleaming white towers. The enormous wooden doors between them were carved with a scene of warriors on horseback marching in triumph under a gleaming sun.
“Is that the palace?” Ellie pressed wonderingly.
“No,” Constance corrected her with a grin. “That’s just the front gate.”
The doors swung open, pulled by servants in Vijay’s familiar purple and gold livery. The carriage rolled past them into a broad courtyard. They had barely stopped before Constance wrenched open the door and spilled out into the afternoon sunlight.
The royal palace of Nandapur sprawled before her. The main building, set across from the gate, rose five generous stories with wings on both sides topped by soaring spires and elegant domes.
Constance had seen it before, but only in faded photographs in her grandmother’s albums. Those images didn’t even start to do justice to the splendor before her.
Pale stone walls gleamed gold in the afternoon sunlight. Beyond the roofline, rolling green hills were accented by the sparkling silver ribbon of a distant waterfall.
This magnificent place belonged to her, in a way. Constance wasn’t here as a guest. She was coming home.
“Fiddlesticks!” Ellie breathed out beside her, staring at the sight.
Adam swung down from his horse with easy grace. The animal nosed him affectionately as he paused to rub its neck. His lanky yellow dog leaped out of the carriage and shook itself vigorously—then launched across the courtyard like a golden comet, scattering a cluster of alarmed doves.
“Nice place,” Adam commented, ignoring the dog as he raised an eyebrow at the building.
Neil joined them, staring up at the palace with shock. Constance caught his book as he started to drop it. She pressed it back into his chest.
He clung to the volume like a life preserver. “You can see the Mughal influence in the window arches,” he mumbled helplessly.
Constance repressed the urge to smirk at him. “I believe the oldest parts of the complex date to the time of the Gajapatis.”
Neil pinned her with a hungry look. “Do you know where they are?”
Constance found herself wondering distractedly what else might provoke that darkly intense interest besides historical architecture.
The entrance to the palace sat at the top of a low, broad stairwell. A pair of servants in purple and gold waited there with an air of stoic gravity.
A skinny child slid out onto the landing between them.
The girl was perhaps twelve, all elbows and knees with a big white grin.
She wore a pair of salwar trousers and a kameez tunic that would have been quite nice if it hadn’t been smeared with dust. Silver studs sparkled on either side of her nose.
She bounded down the steps with an energy that reminded Constance of Adam’s hyperactive dog.
“You are the English visitors!” she called out excitedly, the words warmly accented.
“I’m American, actually,” Adam cheerfully corrected her.
The girl craned her neck back, taking in his sun-kissed hair and blue eyes. “An actual American?”
Adam grinned. “All the way to my boots.”
“But have you chased a stampede?” the girl demanded. “Gambled with cards? Involved yourself in a gunfight?”
“Yes, yes, and…” Adam cast a sheepish look at Ellie. “Why would I do something as crazy as get into a gunfight?”
Ellie paled at the obvious lie.
Constance made an internal note to pry that story out of Adam later.
“What’s your name, kid?” Adam asked.
“Vanika.”
“And have you read a great many dime novels?” Constance cannily guessed.
“I have read loads of books. They help me with my English.” The girl shifted her focus back to Adam with obvious fascination. “America sounds very exciting.”
Adam forced his face into a stern expression. “Just steer clear of those gunfights. All right?”
“I like swords.” Vanika eyed Adam’s belt with a spark of interest. “Are you wearing a sword?”
“Kinda. Wanna see it?”
Ellie went even paler.
Before Adam could show off his enormous knife, his dog cannoned into their group, having given up on chasing the birds. Kalb immediately jumped up on the child, lathing her face with his tongue.
Vanika giggled, giving the animal an enthusiastic hug as she let out a stream of affectionate remarks in a language Constance didn’t recognize.
“Is this an American dog?” the girl pressed.
“He’s Egyptian, actually,” Ellie replied.
Selukis, the breed of dogs kept by the nomadic Arabs, were rumored to have descended from the dogs of the pharaohs. Ellie had once reluctantly admitted to Constance that Kalb bore a distinct resemblance to canines depicted in ancient Egyptian bas-relief carvings.
Though I don’t recall seeing any New Kingdom artwork depicting pharaonic dogs stealing drumsticks off the table or trying to sleep on the furniture, Ellie had grumbled.
Vanika finally disentangled herself from the dog—after giving him another squeeze and receiving a thorough licking of her ear. “But come! I will show you to the family.”
The girl raced for the stairs, Kalb scrambling after her. She exchanged a few quick words with the waiting servants, this time in Odia.
Constance followed her into an elegantly appointed hall where a fountain splashed softly into a shallow pool. The space was framed by ornate stone arches leading into other areas of the palace. “Are you one of my cousins?”
Vanika snorted as she led them past walls completely covered with inlaid silver mirrors. “No. But here is the old armory! As you can see, there is a very nice collection of both swords and guns.”
Constance peered into the room. The walls were covered in displays of antique weaponry, from bows and arrows to daggers, maces, and ancient muskets. A beautifully ornate cannon sat in the center of the room, framed by cases holding elaborately decorated scabbards.
She stepped inside, stopping at a display of jeweled daggers and mentally comparing them to the ones strapped to her garters. “I could have fun in here.”
Mr. Mahjoud followed her. He paused at a case of swords, giving the blades a bland study.
Constance studied him in turn. Was there a telling gleam of familiarity in Mr. Mahjoud’s eyes as he looked over the weapons?
She had not given up on her theory that beneath his fussy waistcoats, Mr. Mahjoud was actually a deadly Sudanese warrior.
“Hmm,” Mr. Mahjoud commented, apparently unimpressed.
Constance decided that this response clearly supported her hypothesis.
“But if this is the old armory, does that mean there’s a new armory?” Ellie wondered with a frown.
Vanika whistled a suspiciously casual tune, ignoring the question.
“You’ve got all kinds of fun stuff in here. But what’s with the big outfit?” Adam nodded to an enormous blanket of thin metal scales that hung over a wooden scaffold roughly twice his own height.
“That is for the elephants,” Vanika authoritatively informed him. “From when the maharaja’s herd was actually used for war.”
Adam looked intrigued. “You’re saying ‘herd’ like there’s still one kicking around.”
“Why wouldn’t there be?” Vanika returned dismissively. “Now come on!”
She dashed from the armory, leaving the rest of them to hurry after her through a twisting maze of hallways. The girl named rooms with a wave of her hand as they raced by.
“That’s the Rani Salon, and that’s the Courtyard of the Winds. They call that one the Peacock Room—because the walls are decorated with peacocks,” she added with a roll of her eyes.
Ellie quickened her pace to catch up with the child. “I believe I heard something about a library.”
“Oh, that. It’s enormous,” Vanika commented distractedly.
“But is it nearby?” Ellie pleaded hopefully.
“Not at all,” Vanika replied and dashed onward.