Chapter 23 #2
I tried not to sound too eager as I assured him that Tara and I had already finished speaking and we could go there now. It was hard not to smile as we stepped into the sunshine. Its warmth gave me hope, but when I tried to step nearer to Thevan, he adjusted so that he stayed farther away.
Maybe he didn’t long for the closeness we’d almost started to share again.
Thevan must have seen my frown. “Are you well, Rani?”
“Oh, um, yes, I’m fine.” I was not terribly convincing, so I tried to smile. That was not convincing either. Especially not for Thevan.
“Preoccupied with the Porcugi, no doubt.”
“Yes, there is much to consider.” The last thing I wanted to tell Thevan was that I had been up late reviewing Nikith’s figures, and my brother-in-law was right: We needed to find a way to either win this war faster or fund it better.
I worried that I had gone too far with my terms for a marriage to the raja of Banghervari, but I certainly didn’t want to talk with Thevan about my possible engagement.
“Then it’s good that you can see what we’ve prepared today.”
“I look forward to it.” I peered around curiously, looking for anything different, but there was nothing unusual within sight.
We continued in parallel silence for a while, until I could stand the quiet no more.
“What’s bothering you, Thevan?” I asked.
He kept his gaze firmly forward and kept walking.
“You seem resentful I sent Parushi away,” I pressed.
“I’m just a soldier, Rani. Perhaps such matters should be discussed with someone who has all the advantages of a political mind.”
“You are not just a soldier, and you know it,” I snapped. “If you have an opinion about Parushi, then tell me.”
“I gave you my opinion before the delegation left, and you chose to listen to someone else.”
Nikith. He thought I’d made Parushi go to Banghervari because I trusted Nikith’s advice more than his.
“I sent Parushi away because I needed time to think on my own,” I said. “Not because of anything that anyone else said.”
Thevan’s expression softened. He still didn’t answer my question about Parushi, though. So I stopped walking. At first Thevan kept going, but he turned and came back when he realized I wasn’t moving.
I stepped closer, keeping my voice low. “Tell me honestly. What do you think I should do about Parushi?”
Thevan leaned toward me. We were so close that he could have caressed my face. The thought alone made my cheeks burn—of course he couldn’t do that.
Thankfully, Thevan didn’t seem to notice. “Parushi is a soldier, through and through. She was following her father’s orders. I understand that you disagree with the command, but that lies with him, not with her.”
I pushed away thoughts of caresses and forced myself to consider what Thevan said. Parushi hated deceit of any kind. That secret must have been eating her alive, but she’d kept it safe because she was following her commander’s orders. Like a good soldier should.
Even when I’d sent her away, she hadn’t complained.
“I don’t doubt Parushi.” As I said the words, I realized it was true. “I worry about the people who know about her secret and what they might try to do with that information. Even our greatest leaders—perhaps especially our greatest leaders—had enemies. And ignoring them is shortsighted at best.”
“It’s not an easy conundrum,” Thevan conceded, and we began to walk again. “But I think she might fight against the idea of her being rani even harder than you would.”
“Fair point.” I chuckled at the thought of anyone trying to force Parushi to sit on a throne. “Spirits help anyone that tries to dress Parushi in a sari.”
Even Thevan, grumpy as he was, had to smile at that. The air relaxed, and the space between us had all but disappeared by the time we reached the training grounds.
My general strode in with his head held high. He occasionally called out praise to the drilling soldiers as he passed, making them stand straighter. When he stopped at the shooting yard, a crowd quickly circled around us.
“Welcome, Rani.” Thevan’s voice boomed over the grounds. “Thank you for accompanying me here today.”
I took the unspoken cue from him, clearing my throat and raising my voice to match his. “Seeing our soldiers in such fine form has raised my spirit. They are the pride of Ullal.”
“Their skills and strength are unmatched. But I asked you to meet me here so I could show you something new.”
The sounds of clattering blows and parries slowed almost to a halt as more people joined the circle around us.
“Harpal! Report!” Thevan called out. He turned to me and raised his eyebrows with a wicked grin.
I knew that face—it was the look he’d get just before landing a winning blow whenever he dueled.
The dimple on his left cheek creased beneath his stubble.
Since becoming general, Thevan had adopted a neatly trimmed beard that traced his jawline and connected to his mustache, framing his lips.
It suited him more than I cared to admit.
A man in Ullal’s blue and gold stepped forward.
He wore the ornamental version of our soldiers’ uniform, and its embellishments caught the sun and scattered patches of light among the crowd.
In his left hand, he carried the most enormous bow I’d ever seen.
It was taller than me and looked like it was made of bamboo.
Harpal stepped in front of me and bowed; then he saluted Thevan.
The crowd of people around us whispered among themselves excitedly.
I had to hand it to my general: The pageantry of the fine uniform paired with the oversize bow created an impressive spectacle.
It was a sorely needed boost, and our soldiers leaned forward eagerly.
After giving everyone a moment to soak in the archer’s appearance, Thevan cleared his throat and properly announced the man carrying the massive bow.
“Rani, I would like to present Harpal. His family comes from farther north, and he told me that they had bows and arrows that could pierce the hides of elephants. He wondered if perhaps they might be effective against the scales of the Porcugi. I asked him to demonstrate how to use the weapon, and I think he may be right.”
Thevan was speaking to me, but more importantly, he had the attention of his soldiers.
He pulled them along with his rolling cadences as his voice boomed over them.
This was a side of Thevan I had never seen before.
Yes, he had always been a clever and effective soldier, but apparently he had been watching his father lead the army of Ullal more closely than I had realized.
No wonder everyone had rallied around him after his father’s death.
With a start, I realized he was looking at me expectantly. I needed to stop staring at him and say something. Ideally, something about the bow and arrow.
“It’s an impressive weapon indeed.” I didn’t have to feign the awe in my voice, and a part of me knew I should expand upon my praise.
It’s what Ektha would have done—she would have buoyed the soldiers’ spirits by continuing to compliment the bow.
But the pragmatic fighter in me still had questions.
“How can you draw such a thing? It’s so . . . big.”
“Ah, that’s the clever bit.” Thevan took the bow from Harpal and smiled widely. He’d obviously practiced this and was looking forward to demonstrating.
Of course Thevan hadn’t just wanted compliments. He knew—better than almost anyone—how long and hard I’d trained with his father. He’d expected that I would ask questions, and he’d prepared for them.
He hadn’t wanted me to lead by acting as Ektha would; he wanted me to be myself.
Thevan rolled up his sleeves; then he rested the bow on the ground, braced his foot on the bottom, and drew it.
The muscles in his forearms popped and made waves as he pulled until he reached full draw.
“See? By using our feet to stabilize the bow, we can take advantage of its strength. Harpal can train the others on how to use it. He taught me how to draw it in just one morning, and I’m confident that our soldiers will pick it up with ease. ”
I dragged my eyes away from his arms. “How far can it shoot?”
Thevan let the bow relax and then gave it to Harpal. “I’ll let Harpal demonstrate.”
Harpal saluted. He drew a metal-tipped arrow from the quiver on his back, and the observing soldiers moved behind us, eager to see the weapon’s prowess.
The targets were impossibly far, easily one and a half times the farthest distance even Parushi would attempt, but Thevan didn’t ask anyone to adjust them.
Murmurs buzzed, and Thevan smirked as Harpal drew the bow without complaint.
When Harpal released the arrow, there was a collective gasp as it cut through the air, arching high and then slicing downward before burying itself in the target. Thevan clapped Harpal on the shoulder as he let out a victorious whoop, and the soldiers erupted into applause.
I stared from Harpal to the target for a moment, nodding my approval at him, which made him blush. But accuracy at a distance wasn’t the key to defeating the Porcugi; we needed the arrow to pierce their tough scales. “I want to go see the target.”
Thevan smiled even wider. “Of course, Rani.”
We crossed the practice yard, and Thevan stayed half a step behind me while the rest of the soldiers trailed at an appropriate distance.
They whispered together like excited schoolchildren.
When we reached the target, I better understood Thevan’s smile.
The arrow had pierced through the back of it, burying the shaft so only a third was visible from the front.
“Well done!” I exclaimed. With this bow’s range and power, we might be able to penetrate the Porcugi’s scales without putting our soldiers in imminent danger. I turned to Harpal. “Thank you, Harpal. I will see that you are rewarded.”
He bowed. “I am happy to serve Ullal.”
“Nevertheless, I insist.” I turned to the other soldiers. “And I will make sure we have as many bows and arrows as you need. I’ll have our bowyers start their work immediately.”
“Harpal will train any willing soldier on how to use this weapon.” Thevan’s voice rose in a crescendo. “We will send soldiers with our traders and strike down those monsters from the sea. They will never dare to touch the shores or ships of Ullal again!”
A cheer rose from the crowd, and the sun crowned my general in all his glory as he raised his left fist to the sky.
My heartbeat reverberated in the bones of my chest, enveloping me with each beat, as Thevan stood tall with his muscled arm aloft.
My cheeks were hot, and I pulled my eyes away from the lines that ran down his forearm and pointed to his heart.
“Each of us must do all we can for Ullal,” Thevan said. “Our fight has not been easy, but the soldiers of Ullal fear no enemy! Now, we will drive those monsters back to whatever abyss they came from!”
My fingers went cold as Thevan smiled toward me. His words rang in my ears. Each of us must do all we can for Ullal.
My soldiers were about to learn how to use a new weapon and then board ships to fight an enemy that had outmatched us at every turn.
My general had rallied his troops despite their losses and had managed to infuse them with confidence as he raised their spirits.
My healers were working feverishly to save the injured soldiers who had filled our infirmary almost to capacity.
Even my brother-in-law had found a way for us to continue a war that he despised and was on a mission now to make it come to fruition.
But what had I done?
I was letting my heart run free even though I was offering my hand to another.
I was putting myself above my duties to my nation.
Even if these bows and arrows were helpful, our battles would still be difficult given the speed and destructive power of the Porcugi.
Our fight was just beginning, but our funds were already dwindling, and I might have condemned Ullal when I gave Nikith the conditions for my marriage without fully realizing the depths of our troubles.
I looked up at Matanta’s mountain and remembered the turmeric and the feather of the adaiman.
The Spirits had shown me the way, and it was time for me to trust them.
I closed my eyes and silently begged for their help.
I pleaded with them to soften Aru’s heart so he would accept my ridiculous terms.
He needed to say yes. I needed him to say yes. Ullal needed him to say yes.