Chapter 10 The Covert Guardian
Veer woke with a start. A scorpion scuttled its way across the ceiling.
He blinked while trying to figure out the time.
Day and night had no meaning deep in the caves of Amaravathi.
He sat up and threw off the rough wool blanket, yawning.
His internal clock said it was still maybe an hour away from sunrise.
Billadev was supposed to keep watch by the fire, but a glance at him showed he was nodding, leaning on his sword planted onto the floor. Whenever his sword slipped, he would be jolted awake and look wide-eyed around before succumbing to sleep again a few minutes later.
Veer ran a hand through his hair and stretched, working out the kinks.
He surveyed the mass of blanket-wrapped bodies sleeping on the cave floor, like leftover fish in an angler’s basket.
As had become his custom, Veer cast a cursory glance toward the place where Chandrasena usually slept and found her pallet empty.
A dark figure brushed past him.
He went on alert, hastily borrowing the senses of the nearest animal. A spider, in the process of reeling in its hapless prey, went still on its web as it registered Veer’s alien presence in its mind.
Veer was up and following the princess before the spider even realized who it was.
A stray cinder had caught Billadev’s leg, and he woke with a curse, trying to stamp it out. The spider had gone back to its reeling. Veer’s presence in its mind, already forgotten.
* * *
Amaravathi didn’t have a proper seacoast, despite being bordered by the sea. A massive coastal plateau, instead, rose along the shore, protecting the land from the fury of the sea.
The caves of Amaravathi were a honeycomb of interconnected chambers that peppered this plateau, stretching along its length for miles.
Veer turned a bend and almost collided with a stone wall. Cursing, he retraced his steps back to the point he remembered and glanced around, giving up when the view seemed the same no matter where he looked—a hopeless serpentine maze of darkened stone corridors bathed in twilight.
Exploration through these caves without the aid of a map was foolish. And now he had lost sight of his quarry.
But no matter, he had a solution. Veer closed his eyes, seeking the consciousness of the small animals inhabiting the caves. He “leaped” through their minds, staying no longer than a few seconds, enough to let their instincts guide him.
It helped that there were no other humans loitering about this early, so there was no chance of confusing his target for others.
Judging by her course, she was moving toward the upper caves today. Veer wondered at the change of destination.
While it was difficult to pin any level of organization to these caves, the older generations of Amaravathi had attempted to do so, by roughly assigning them into the upper, middle, and lower levels.
Likewise, the old maps that Amaravathi had provided relied heavily on the course of the underground river, Saraswathi.
Unfortunately, the River Saraswathi had disappeared a few generations ago, presumed to have dried up, making the maps useless. This meant they had to start their exploration from scratch.
Bracing, salty sea air blew gently through these upper-level caves, dispelling the stale, slightly stagnant air of the interior. He watched her glance around, then duck into an opening that was almost hidden by a vertical ledge of rock.
Peering carefully around the edge, he saw that it was a modest-sized cave—one of the airy, well-ventilated ones. It had an archway facing the sea. A short ledge projected outside from the archway, like a rough balcony, wet with the spray from the sea.
Like most of the other caves on this level, this one, too, bore the signs of coming under a skilled mason’s hand.
A tracery of vines, faded now, were carved around the archway.
Shallow steps were cut into the gentle slope that led to it.
Outside, the ledge carried the broken remains of the rim of a balcony.
Veer had wondered often since arriving, if these caves were inhabited long ago. And although their group could’ve done with better information on these caves of Amaravathi, they had to be content with the basic knowledge provided to them.
So far, they restricted their search efforts to the airy upper and middle levels. For a good reason. The lower levels may have been dry and passable a long time ago, but that was in the past. Now, they were submerged beneath the ocean at high tides, making it impossible to traverse.
Dawn was just breaking over the horizon, though the sun had yet to rise.
The princess stood on the short ledge. Bending her leg at the knee, she planted her foot flat against the opposite leg and then joined her hands together high above her head in a classic pose of surya namaskar—the sun salutation.
Light broke, brushing over the inky tones of the night with brilliant ochre.
A rudraksha bracelet he never saw off her wrist lay on the wet stone. Veer counted six rudraksha beads as they separated themselves from the bracelet to hover in the air in front of her, one by one. All but the last one, which adamantly stayed on the ground.
Chandra stood still, her breathing slowed, until she was barely taking in any air, her balance perfect despite the buffeting winds.
She broke her pose when the sunlight dappled the rock she stood on, smoothly morphing to another position.
And another. Each subsequent move, more complicated than the last.
It appeared that all she did was come here to pray.
And practice.
With Chandra, it was becoming difficult to differentiate between the two. Her practice was inextricably linked to her faith. A curious mix of meditation and exercise that used discipline to bring forth the hidden potential of a person.
Or so he heard. Rumor had it that a sect of rishis or sages in Devarakonda specialized in this form of practice and taught it to people who they considered worthy of the art. Veer had heard that it wasn’t easy to win their favor since it meant adhering to a strict lifestyle.
But he had to admit he was impressed to see her hold on to those stringent dictates despite being on the road. She stuck to a vegetarian diet as dictated by religious customs and continued to fast on auspicious days. There was no question she was devout. Almost rigidly so.
Truth be told, he didn’t even need to be here. He had already notified Vihari, of her presence several days ago. His bird would keep watch over her from the cliffs and relay everything to Veer.
But…he was fascinated to see her practice. He could tell himself it was so he could pick out flaws and weaknesses, but it would only be a half-truth.
She seemed to be proficient in dhanurvidya, the knowledge of archery, and Veer was big enough to admit that her skill probably surpassed his in this discipline.
When he had run across the princess on that dark night fleeing from Thianvelli, he had thought she was merely playing at being a soldier—an amateurish attempt by a bored princess.
Now he saw why she was roped into helping the soldiers of Amaravathi.
Even seven years ago she had shown an aptitude for martial arts, as Veer knew to his own cost when she caused him to fall down a well, but now she seemed to have honed that skill to a razor sharpness.
“Why don’t you take what you want?” said a sly voice in his head.
“Ilavu.” Veer closed his eyes and dragged a hand down his face, exasperation coating the word. “You escaped your leash again.”
“I don’t want to state the obvious when my time’s limited. There are far more interesting things to talk about,” said the voice.
Veer knew that the demon who lived inside him didn’t really have a voice that spoke aloud. But his brain supplied the being with its own unique voice and inflection. Shota had once mentioned that it was weird to watch Veer converse with himself.
“I’m sure I can survive not knowing what nasty things are brewing inside your mind,” said Veer, wishing the demon hadn’t chosen now to put forth his opinion.
“Oh. But it’s not my mind, Prince Veer. It’s yours. Believe me, in a thousand years, I haven’t come across such an interesting dichotomy such as yours,” said Ilavu. As usual, the demon seemed to amuse himself with a private joke that came at Veer’s expense.
“You slept for a thousand years, so if you were bored, the fault lies with you,” retorted Veer.
Veer’s left arm rose and brushed the air, as if waving aside the matter of less concern. He gritted his teeth and clenched his left hand. It took him some difficulty to wrest it from the demon’s control.
“You’ve five minutes before I put you to sleep again,” said Veer sternly.
When Veer had first acquired Ilavu’s dying spirit, shortly after Virat had died, it took all of Veer’s control and magical expertise to prevent the demon from taking over.
The red ruby he wore on his forefinger controlled the demon, so he was asleep most of the time. However, there were incidents when he slipped the leash and floated to the top of his consciousness.
Veer found through experience, that it was best to allow the being to speak whatever he had come to say. It allowed him to have longer periods without the demon’s interference and better overall control.
Besides, Veer was loath to admit it, the demon’s insight often helped him see with clarity through the tangle of emotions.
“That woman…isn’t she your wife?” asked Ilavu.
“Yes.”
“Then why’d you keep your distance?” came his puzzled question.
“Do you remember Virat?”
“Isn’t he your friend who died?” observed Ilavu. “The whole reason you climbed the mountains in search of me, because you thought I could help you.”
“That’s correct,” said Veer. “She’s the reason he’s dead. On the evening of our wedding, we were supposed to meet at an isolated location, but she arrived there with the intention of ending my life. Instead, Virat became her inadvertent victim. She killed him, thinking it was me.”
“Ah. That explains why you feel you need to hate her.”
“I don’t feel I need to. I just do. Hate her, that is.”
“Ah…” Ilavu’s voice in his head assumed a sly slant again. “Hate and love are but two sides of the same coin. But what did you do? To make her hate you that much?”
Veer was silent.
“Oh. I see. You aren’t completely blameless. I can pick up some fragments of guilt from your mind. What did you do? Disappoint her in bed? Cheat on her? Don’t tell me you bored her to death?” He clicked his tongue in fake sympathy. “No worse crime in my opinion.”
A muscle ticked in Veer’s cheek at the obvious amusement in Ilavu’s voice.
He refrained from explaining that their relationship didn't even progress that far, beyond tying the holy thread around her neck that made her his wife.
“She belongs to an enemy kingdom and claimed she could never see me as her husband.”
Ilavu went blessedly quiet for a while, his silence, a commiseration and then, “I see no reason why you deny yourself.”
“Haven’t you heard a word I just said?” asked Veer, ruffled. “She killed Virat.”
“Yes, I hear you loud and clear. But the way I see it, if you take her, you would be only using her. There’s no danger of you falling in love or caring for her or some such nonsense, is there?”
Veer remained mute, reluctant to inform the demon of the promise she extracted from him, knowing he would just find it hilarious.
“And I can tell its eating away at you. You think you ought to hate her for killing your best friend. Well, hate away all you want. Doesn’t mean you can’t indulge in some mindless lust. After all, once the bloom is cut off, it only has to fade away.
Must say, you have an odd taste in women, though,” continued the demon.
“She appears more like a warrior than a—”
Ilavu’s words stumbled to a halt. Chandrasena finished one of her asanas and turned so they were able to see her face clearly. “Princess,” he breathed, and Veer could feel his astonishment.
The demon occupied the part of Veer’s brain that controlled his left arm, but Veer’s thoughts remained his own—a boundary never to be crossed.
However, because of their connection, intense feelings and emotions spilled over occasionally.
And Veer distinctly felt Ilavu’s shock and reticence in discussing the topic.
For the first time since knowing the demon, he tried to initiate leaving.
“Wait. Why are you leaving? Yes, she is a princess of Amaravathi, but how did you know that? I don’t believe I’ve mentioned it before. Is there something you aren’t telling me?” called Veer inside his head.
“There are a lot of things I’m not telling you, Prince Veer,” came his snappy answer. “Just like there are lots of things humans ought not to know in this era. Like the knowledge to bring back the dead, for instance.”
When Veer first encountered Ilavu, he tried to bargain for that information. That experiment resulted in catastrophic failure.
Veer was startled by the sudden outburst of Ilavu’s laughter.
“What’s so funny?” he asked.
“Oh…oh…the irony. Do you remember me saying when I first met you that of all the people, it was my misfortune to encounter you? Well, I take it back. Nothing this interesting has happened in a while.”