Chapter 11 A Cave, a Tale, and an Argument
Chandra was rinsing her hands, having just finished her breakfast of fire-roasted potatoes and jowar flatbread peppered with dry spices, when Shota accosted her.
“Princess, perhaps we should go over the wall inscriptions again,” he said.
Chandra nodded and followed him. It had been weeks now and so far, they had nothing to show for their meticulous search.
They had come across several wall sculptures and carvings, some detailed and some eroded, but it was enough evidence that these caves once saw human presence, perhaps were even used as dwellings.
And although the lotus key showed them the general location, it didn’t give the exact details.
She wished she could be of more help. But apart from knowing the script of Brahmi—an ancient tongue no longer in day-to-day use and the language the inscriptions were written in—she possessed only a rudimentary knowledge of the caves.
Yesterday, though, they had a breakthrough. They had discovered this wall of sculptures in an immense cave in the middle level. Fourteen-foot-high bas-reliefs ran for almost a mile covering the whole segment of the curved wall.
These were by far the most intricate and most preserved carvings in the caves they had explored so far.
Excitement had run high all day, and they had gone over each section of the carvings, exhausting themselves poring over every known story, legend, and half-confirmed fact in the lore of Amaravathi for the fortieth time with the hopes of finding a nugget of information that would show them a way.
By evening, their hopes slipped away like a thief in the dark. It appeared that the bas-reliefs were exactly what they seemed to be: a collection of religious teachings and mythological stories from King Amarendra’s time.
As Chandra and Shota neared the central portion of the bas-reliefs, they found Billadev regaling a group of men.
He was posturing in front of a giant statue of Amarendra battling an eight-armed sea monster.
Chandra’s eyebrows rose, hearing the tall tale he was spinning, as he imitated the ancient king’s stance in the carvings.
“And so, King Billadev rides on undefeated,” intoned Billadev in a deep voice, his arm held out as if clutching an imaginary sword. “Hearing just the neigh of his horse, enemies flee before him.”
He spotted them beyond the crowd of men seated in a semicircle, who were laughing openly at his antics. “Ho, men. What do you think, do I look majestic like him? King Billadev the Great has a nice ring to it, don’t you think?”
“Billadev the Moron, suits you better,” came Veer’s voice over her shoulder. The men scattered, murmuring about cleaning up after the breakfast.
Chandra jumped. Where did he come from? His dark gaze slid to her, and she looked away quickly. The man unnerved her.
Usually, she preferred to avoid him, keeping their interactions to the bare minimum. Though it was next to impossible to ignore him completely. He had a presence that sucked in the surrounding air, drawing everyone’s eyes.
Unless he wished otherwise. Then he was quite capable of concealing himself. Chandra found the combination of qualities maddening. It meant she could never be sure of his presence. In fact, she’d been getting more paranoid, imagining him being there at her practice.
She mostly interacted with Shota, a tall, thin man far too serious for his age. He had taken on the difficult and onerous task of piecing together a new map of the caves. He needed her help interpreting the older maps that Amaravathi had provided, since they were written in Brahmi.
Chandra had been impressed that Shota had a rudimentary knowledge of not only this ancient language but also other obscure ones from various parts of Saptavarsha.
“Hmph, you are just jealous because all the maidens prefer me,” said Billadev, although, his eyes twinkled with mischief.
“Would you please move out of the way?” said Shota, furrowing his eyebrows.
“I will. If the princess answers my question. What do you say, Princess, do I look like him?”
“Er…” Chandra didn’t know what to say. They were an odd bunch, Veer’s friends.
And as unlike each other as possible. Billadev was the jokester, who acted like he cared about nothing and seemed to take great pleasure in teasing his friends.
Like he was doing now with his nonsensical claim.
She could see both Veer and Shota exchange exasperated looks.
Shota, on the other hand, was difficult to interpret. He was infallibly polite and proper in his address and kept his thoughts close to his heart. She remembered him vaguely from seven years ago as a lanky, silent, young man, who had paled beside Veer’s other more charismatic friend, Virat.
Thinking about Virat soured her stomach, so she pushed the thoughts away.
Billadev caught sight of something on the carvings. “Wait. I know what I’m missing. The mark on the king’s forehead. If I could just replicate it…” he said, looking around for something he could use to write on himself.
“Don’t!” she said sharply, as Girish, her guard, spoke at the same time.
“Eh? What did I do?” asked Billadev, looking up, confused. Veer frowned.
Girish explained. “That mark is considered sacred, sire. It cannot be worn by just anybody without dire consequences.”
“How dire are we talking?” asked Veer. There was a sarcastic edge to his tone that told her he didn’t really believe the superstition behind the mark.
“Why don’t you try it and see? It would burn off your skin, and we could show you as an example the next time someone doesn’t believe it,” answered Chandra, glaring at Veer.
His eyes narrowed in warning.
An uncomfortable pause fell.
“Er, Princess?” Shota nudged her.
She turned away, taking a deep breath. Who cared if he didn’t agree with the beliefs and customs of the people here? A proper person would at least pretend to respect them, but she guessed it was too much to ask a barbarian.
They worked steadily for the next hour, as Chandra translated the writings on the wall and Shota painstakingly copied them into a sheaf of parchments.
Her neck was beginning to hurt from all the staring up she had to do. She was massaging the back of her neck when she overheard Billadev all but begging Shota.
“Come on, Shota. Just one more time, please…”
“Go away, don’t bother me. Ask Girish.”
“Girish said he doesn’t know this one about Amarendra. And none of us can read Brahmi.”
“You can,” said Shota rudely.
Billadev grinned unrepentantly. “Ah, but reading is work and I’d prefer if others do it for me. You were always better at it, anyway.”
Shota looked unconvinced. “I honestly regret ever telling you the story of the wall sculptures,” he said, sitting back on his heels. “I must’ve taken leave of my senses.”
Billadev’s grin widened to reveal perfect teeth. “Come on. You’ve been working all the time. Look at the dark circles underneath your eyes. You could take a story break now and then.”
“I always have dark circles underneath my eyes.” Shota squinted up at him. “And somehow it doesn’t seem like a break when I’d be the one telling a story.”
“If you are talking about King Amarendra’s story, I can help,” Chandra volunteered, tucking away that information about Billadev knowing Brahmi. Veer’s friends came well prepared indeed.
“Would you?” A genuine smile lit up Billadev’s face. “Thank you, Princess.”
Chandra soon found herself standing before a group of eager men, who had all assembled to listen to the story. Staying here in the caves for so long, they were probably starved for entertainment.
She coughed a little, nervous, and took a seat on a small boulder right next to the statue of the ancient king.
She had learned about the founder of Amaravathi at her father’s knee and knew the story by heart, so she didn’t need to read the inscriptions on the wall that accompanied the carvings.
“Long ago, there lived a demon named Andhaka. He had the body of an octopus with eight arms. He reigned over the underwater world. But not content in that domain, he spread his tentacles above. In that conquest, he came upon a ship carrying a beautiful maiden. He captured her and sank the ship.
“It so happened that this maiden was the intended bride of King Amarendra. The king searched for her far and wide and finally came to know the truth. But he couldn’t enter the underwater world.
King Amarendra then prayed to Goddess Parvathi.
Pleased with his devotion, the goddess granted him the ability to traverse the aquatic domain.
“The king defeated the demon Andhaka and was able to rescue the princess and marry her. He built a temple in honor of the goddess, and that is how she became the patron goddess of our kingdom.”
* * *
“What happened to the demon?” asked Veer, unwillingly drawn to the story. He hadn’t been interested yesterday when Shota explained the story behind the bas-reliefs, and privately thought of them as bedtime stories told by grandmothers to gullible children to scare them into going to bed early.
“Some say that the king forgave the demon, but he made a pact with him never to bother humans again,” replied Chandra, running her hands affectionately over the carvings. “King Amarendra is the greatest king Saptavarsha has ever seen.”
“That was nice of him,” said Billadev, who was listening with rapt, wide-eyed attention.
“Isn’t it a tad boastful to claim he was the greatest king Saptavarsha has seen?” Veer crossed his arms. “What basis do you have to make that statement, apart from old wives’ tales that is—”
Chandra swiveled around, bristling with outrage. “They are not old wives’ tales!”
“You mean to say the records from King Amarendra’s time have survived the disastrous fire a few decades ago?
” he countered. She stared at him in astonished silence.
“You shouldn’t be so surprised, Princess,” he said with a sardonic smile.
“I made it my duty to know as much as I can about Amaravathi.”