Chapter 2
Nobody paid attention when we entered. With good reason.
The infirmary was a frenzy of activity. Healers dressed in their saffron robes rushed from patient to patient as apprentices cut bandages and ground pastes for wound dressings.
In the middle of the room, a petite woman in a mustard yellow sari barked orders.
She managed the chaos with an expert hand as her long silver braid whipped around her constantly moving head. When she saw us, she hurried over.
Tara bowed her head in greeting. “Blessings on the rajkumaris. I must speak to you before we go to the raja.”
She gestured to a corner where my uncle sat in a bed.
He was surrounded by three healers, Thevan’s father, and Ektha’s husband, Nikith.
My uncle’s left leg was heavily bandaged, and he kept trying to get out of bed, despite the healers’ protests.
Nikith was trying to reason with him to no avail—my uncle just waved him away.
Thevan’s father, Jagath, stood with his left arm in a sling and his right arm extended to try to prevent the raja from standing, but apparently my uncle wouldn’t even listen to his trusted general.
“What happened?” I asked Tara. “How severe are his injuries?”
“He has a wound on his leg; I can’t speak to how it happened,” Tara replied. “We’ve bandaged it, and it should heal if he rests. The more he moves now, the worse his limp will be. Our raja may be the Tiger of Ullal, but right now he’s acting much more like a goat.”
Ektha seemed uncomfortable, but I appreciated Tara’s frankness. Though she was not always the gentlest with her words, her skills and knowledge were unmatched.
“If he won’t sit still, we should give him something to make him rest,” I said. “Order a plate of biryani and some golden milk. Add whatever you must to the milk so that he has no choice but to sleep. I will give it to him.”
“Abbakka!” Ektha protested.
“Do you know another way to make him still?” I asked.
Ektha’s silence answered my question as we made our way to Uncle Trimulya, who tried to stand up again when he saw us approach.
Even though he never missed an opportunity to remind us that soon my sister would need to take the crown so he could rest his tired bones, my late mother’s brother was undeniably spry.
And sharp. He practiced his swordsmanship daily, and his reflexes were as quick as his steps were light.
The grays around his temples created an appearance of sage gravity, even if mischief usually sparkled in his black eyes.
Not today, though. Today he was shrouded in a solemnity that weighed down every part of his face.
Ektha and I went to touch our uncle’s feet, which were propped up on the bed, but he brushed us off.
“Now is not the time for formalities. We have much to do.” Uncle Trimulya pushed away the hands that tried to keep him sitting down. “Give me some room. If you want me to stop struggling, get out of my way. I am the raja, and I order you to move.”
He tried to swing his legs off the side of the bed, but I blocked him. My uncle glared at me and raised a finger, but Ektha spoke up before he could admonish me.
“Perhaps you can update us first,” Ektha said. “Then you can go do whatever else you need to do. You will feel better with more rest anyway.”
“I’ve been sitting for far too long,” Uncle Trimulya grumbled. “The Spirits have already taken seven of our soldiers, with another twenty injured. I need to act as the raja, not some bedridden old man.”
“You are the only person that has ever called yourself old.” I crossed my arms and refused to give him room to climb off the bed.
“But you are injured, and you need rest. For now. Just stay still so you can heal, and then you’ll be able to take care of the people who need you instead of collapsing on top of them. ”
My uncle looked at me in surprise. We were so similar that he could usually expect my support for even his brashest plans.
“Please,” I said, my expression softening. “Tell us what happened.”
“The Porcugi have returned,” my uncle snapped. He leaned back and rubbed his forehead. “The monsters we hoped would stay in our past have returned in our present, and they have painted their path in our blood.”
Ektha gasped. Even the healers took a step back from the bed, and a nearby monk began to chant his prayers.
The thought of the massive snakelike sea monsters attacking again was enough to make even a hardened warrior like Thevan go pale.
Their arrival, and disappearance, generations ago had turned them into more legend than history, but the injured soldiers around us made their reappearance very real—and more terrifying than any of us wanted to admit.
My sister and I looked at her husband for more information. The smile lines that usually decorated his jolly face were erased. He took Ektha’s hand and squeezed it, sighing heavily before he spoke.
“We had a very successful trip to Banghervari and were riding home when Samanth noticed some star fruit in the forest and went to pick it,” Nikith said.
His eyes were weary, and his gray hairs seemed even more stark in the light of the infirmary, underscoring the twelve years that separated him and Ektha.
“Out of nowhere, we heard some crashing and then his scream.”
Thevan looked at his father, but Jagath would not meet his eye, so he scanned the other beds in the infirmary in search of his brother.
I gripped my fraying red-and-gold bracelet, pressing the bumpy medallion at its center tight against my wrist as my stomach dropped. “Samanth is a warrior through and through. He wouldn’t have gone anywhere without a fight.”
“Parushi was the closest,” Nikith said. “She dismounted and gave chase through the forest before we could even give the order, but even with Samanth grabbing at everything he could, whatever was dragging him away was too fast. She couldn’t catch him.”
I stared at Nikith. My training partner was the fastest runner in the guard. In all our years practicing together, I had never beaten Parushi in a sprint.
“There was a clear track, though,” Nikith continued. “We followed the path toward the coast, but two more guards were taken as we did. We gave chase all the way to the beach, and that’s when we saw them.”
He paused, as if even he couldn’t believe the words he was about to say. “The Porcugi.”
I shuddered. As a child, I was told the stories of sea demons with the heads and torsos of humans and the scales and tails of snakes.
They had attacked our shores long ago, laying waste to our ports and ships until they’d been chased away.
No matter how many elders told me the tales, though, the Porcugi always felt one step away from reality—like a monster that came after little children that didn’t eat enough vegetables.
Thevan’s gaze kept sliding toward the corner where seven bodies lay covered in white sheets.
He met my eyes for a moment, and fear flashed across his face before he pursed his lips tight and stubbornly scanned the infirmary again.
I searched my uncle’s face, silently begging him for some hope—some comfort—but he kept his focus on Jagath.
My fingers went cold as I saw the gentle curve in the back of my uncle’s favored general, the way his shoulders hunched down in the frown he refused to allow his mouth to mirror.
I knew Samanth’s fate before Nikith spoke the words.
“We tried to save our people. The ones they abducted.” Nikith’s voice was thick and heavy now. “But the Spirits had taken them long before we arrived. Those monsters held our comrades up by their feet, waving their bodies like flags. Taunting us.”
“No.” Thevan gripped the foot of the bed with white knuckles.
Tears welled in Nikith’s eyes, and I could see the sheen in Jagath’s as well. My knees threatened to buckle beneath me, but I willed them to stay strong.
“I told them we needed to go,” Nikith said. “We needed to retreat and come home but—”
“I couldn’t leave them there.” Jagath’s hands were balled into fists at his sides. “Spirits forgive me, but I couldn’t leave my son with them.”
“You deserve to put your son to rest,” my uncle said firmly.
Jagath blinked his tears away and wavered, tipping backward but catching his balance at the last moment. Thevan rushed to his father’s side. Jagath grasped his younger son’s forearm, squeezing it wordlessly. No, Thevan wasn’t the younger son anymore. He was the only son.
Thevan’s voice sounded like a grinding millstone. “It’s okay, Father. You can lean on me.”
“Go,” my uncle said. “Make the arrangements with the monks. They will need to speak to many more families before the day is done. I will be there for the rites.”
Jagath did not fight the dismissal. He nodded in wordless appreciation of the raja’s support and left the infirmary with Thevan at his side.
Ektha looked as if she was about to ask a question when Nikith spoke up again.
“Forgive me, Raja, but perhaps you should reconsider attending the rites. If Jagath had not rushed onto the beach, you and the others would not have followed. We could have avoided a fight and come home without attracting the notice of the Porcugi.”
“How can you say that?” My cheeks were hot, and I clenched my fists at my sides. “He couldn’t leave his son with those monsters! Samanth deserves better!”
My sister stepped between me and her husband, but my uncle spoke up first.
“Do you truly believe that the Porcugi would have left us alone if we let them get away with killing our people?” he asked Nikith. “At least now they’ll think twice about the price they’ll pay if they attack us again.”
My heart pounded in my chest, and I reshaped all my sadness into anger. “Please tell me they paid a price.”
A wicked smile crossed my uncle’s face. “Parushi got one. After that, the other two dove back into the waves.”
I looked around the infirmary, at the beds filled with injured soldiers and the corner with the seven bodies. “Three of them did all of this?”
“Their bodies are huge and covered in scales that our swords can’t cut through,” my uncle explained.
“A few archers had luck at short range, but many were injured when they got too close. Two of the Porcugi carried swords, but even when they’re not armed, their strikes are fearsome, and their bites even more so. ”
Ektha’s jaw dropped.
“I will not soften my words for you,” Uncle Trimulya told her. “You must understand the strength of our enemies if we are to have any chance of victory.”
“But how can we possibly defeat such an enemy?” she asked. “Three of them did all of this. How many of them are there? What will happen if they appear at our beaches? Ten guards at the door won’t matter. Not even twenty could stop them—”
“For today,” I said, interrupting Ektha before she could spiral any further, “we will focus on arranging the rites of those we lost. Over time, we will learn the weaknesses of the Porcugi, and they will come to fear us too.”
“Brave words,” Nikith said. “But we would be wise to consider our next steps carefully. We do not want to start a fight we cannot win. Perhaps we should see what it is the Porcugi want before we try to take on an enemy that can cut us down so easily.”
“Only a coward bends before a bully,” I snapped.
“And what name would you give to someone who rushes into war without understanding the price?” Nikith shot back.
My uncle cleared his throat, and we all fell silent.
“We will pay a price no matter which choice we make. The last time the Porcugi attacked, they demanded we give them a portion of our spices in return for protecting our trade ships. Spices may seem like a small price, but the real cost would have been our independence, and that is something worth fighting for. We’ve defeated the Porcugi before.
We need to review our records and find out how we did it. ”
I nodded, silently resolving to go through the records myself, if necessary. Nikith’s face was expressionless, but he tipped his head in acquiescence as Ektha bit her lip. My uncle tried to swing his legs over the side of the bed, but I blocked him. Again.
“We will do all those things,” I said. “I will make sure of it. But for now, you must rest.”
“You cannot stop me.” He sat straight and tall. “You may be a rajkumari, but I am still the raja of Ullal.”
“I’m well aware,” I said. “And if Ullal wants to have any chance of victory, it must have a strong raja. I’m asking that you rest for now. Trust the healers.”
Tara approached with a heaping plate of biryani and a glass of golden milk. I took the cup from her and held it up to my uncle.
He stared at the glass mutinously. “I know what’s in there.”
“I’d be worried if you didn’t,” I said. “Drink it anyway. You need to rest. I’ve given Tara strict instructions not to give you any biryani until you drink the whole thing.”
My uncle glared at Tara, but she didn’t flinch.
“Ektha and I will see to the rites and the records while you sleep,” I assured him. “The work will be managed, but we need you to be well. The people of Ullal need you to be well.”
“Swear it.” My uncle’s black eyes locked on mine over the rim of the glass. “Promise me that you will take care of them and give them the departure they deserve.”
“I swear,” I said solemnly. Ektha nodded at my side, but Uncle Trimulya didn’t seem to notice.
“Do not let this be the first time you have failed me.” My uncle took the glass and drained it in three gulps.