Chapter 19 To Old and New Friendships #2
Shota nodded. “Rajgarh agrees with all that you mentioned. The only addition we request is that the fortress of Kalpeet be added to this bargain as a bridal price.”
The courtier glanced at Chandraketu.
“Kalpeet is a quite valuable…” said King Chandraketu, dithering about the matter. “It has been part of Amaravathi since its existence. If I have to part with one of my daughters, why should I part with Kalpeet too?”
“Come on, Raja Chandraketu. It is quite simple,” said Veer before Shota could stop him.
“Either you give us Kalpeet, or we’ll take it from you.
By force. You don’t want to be known as the first king under whom Kalpeet has fallen, do you?
And you know it is in danger of doing exactly that. This way, at least you can save face.”
“Now look here,” began Chandraketu, his face flushing with anger.
In deference to the hot climate in Amaravathi, he and most of his courtiers went bare-chested, but a heavy carcanet necklace with a large deep-blue diamond sat at the center of his chest. He was dressed in finest finery, gold glinting at his earlobes and the many rings on his hands.
Veer’s party in contrast was almost plain, wearing their regular, everyday clothes. A deliberate snub that Shota was sure didn’t go unnoticed by their counterparts in Amaravathi.
“If you desire Kalpeet, you can take it,” continued Chandraketu. “I’ll even offer it to you freely, but leave my daughters alone.”
“Are you reneging already on your promise of marriage between the two kingdoms?” asked Shota, frowning.
A heavy ornate crown sat on Chandraketu’s still dark curls, and Shota observed a trickle of sweat roll down his temple that could either indicate nervousness or just the unbearable heat, but still he persisted with his obstinacy.
“I love my daughters, and it pains me to give one of them in marriage to a…a rogue like him. I’d be condemning them to a lifetime of misery,” he answered.
“Your Majesty, may we remind you, the request for this meeting comes from Amaravathi,” Shota said, irked. This wasn’t the first time Chandraketu had shown a marked resistance to a marriage alliance between their kingdoms.
In fact, Chandraketu was partially responsible for what happened in the Navari Woods. If he hadn’t deliberately defaced his daughters’ portraits, Veer wouldn’t have planned the ambush that led to the capture of Princess Chandrasena.
“I’d hoped you would be willing to see reason,” said King Chandraketu, almost under his breath.
“You mean you had hoped we would be soft in the head?” growled Veer. “So far, you have offered us nothing worthwhile.”
“Are you calling Kalpeet not worthwhile?” said Chandraketu, fists clenched.
“Ah! But Kalpeet is almost in our grasp—”
“But not yet,” argued Chandraketu. “Kalpeet has never fallen to an enemy before.”
The situation seemed to devolve into one of those endless arguments without recourse when a sentry posted outside announced the arrival of Guruji, an ex-prime minister and a well-respected figure in Amaravathi.
King Chandraketu’s dark visage flushed even more when he saw the newcomer, but he got up to touch Guruji’s feet for blessing and led him to a seat beside him.
“Starting without me, hmmm?” murmured Guruji with admonishment.
Guruji then spoke softly in King Chandraketu’s ear, who appeared…guilty?
Veer gave Shota a confused look.
King Chandraketu took a deep breath and sat up straight. He spoke in a monotone, as if resigned to his fate. “I agree with Rajgarh’s earlier demands. Prince Veer can wed one of my daughters and Kalpeet will be given as a bridal price.”
Shota was surprised at the sudden reversal and wondered what kind of hold Guruji had over the king, to make him change his mind that fast.
“Do you have a person in mind?” asked Guruji, addressing the party from Rajgarh.
“Yes,” Shota said, ready to give Veer’s choice. “We would like to request the hand of—”
Veer stopped him with a hand on his arm, causing Shota to look at him in question.
“Chandrasena,” Veer said in a low but firm tone. “I wish to have Princess Chandrasena as my wife.”
A thunderstruck silence fell. Guruji’s eyebrows rose high on his forehead. Shota felt his own mouth drop open at the bolt out of the blue. Everyone present had knowledge of or heard rumors of the fight between Prince Veer and Princess Chandrasena. They knew things weren’t cordial between them.
Chandraketu was the first to recover. “Prince Veer, I love all my daughters equally, but this…I must ask you to choose another.”
“You gave your word,” said Veer in a low warning.
“And I am not backing away from it.” Chandraketu’s tone pacified. “Choose one of my daughters by all means. Except for Chandrasena.”
“Why?” asked Veer, and Shota could hear his friend’s bewilderment under the ill temper.
“Because I believe you and Chandrasena won’t suit each other.”
“It is unfortunate that you feel that way, Raja Chandraketu,” said Veer slowly. “But you forget, the choice is mine. And I have made it.”
“I’m the father of the bride,” said Chandraketu stubbornly. “My daughter’s happiness means a lot to me. I will not give my permission.”
They were at an impasse.
Guruji cleared his throat. “Maybe it’s time we let you talk alone,” he suggested, signaling everyone to leave the tent. He spoke to Chandraketu again before he left, but the king had a stubborn look on his face that didn’t bode well.
Veer’s expression was blank, but a contemplative spark lit his eyes. He sent Shota an unobtrusive signal with his hand. Shota understood immediately. He was to stay close and listen.
Everyone filed out of the tents, including Guruji, as Shota followed. A short distance away, he left their party talking among themselves and slipped away, rounding back to the tent.
He found a spot toward the rear and crouched, hiding behind a bush to eavesdrop on the conversation.
“I wish to speak plainly. Why do you think that I won’t make your daughter happy?” he heard Veer say.
Shota peered from the small gap in between the two flaps of the tent. Chandraketu had gotten up and was pacing the tent, his hands behind his back and throwing occasional dagger looks at Veer, while Veer was still seated, appearing not in the least bothered by Chandraketu’s hostility.
Shota saw him pluck a white jasmine flower that bloomed on the plant, set not too far from his seat.
“I know my daughter,” said Chandraketu. “She is outspoken and principled. She could never be happy with a person like you—no qualms about bending the truth to suit his purposes.”
“You do realize you are insulting me,” said Veer mildly, as if chiding him for his language, but Shota knew he was plenty angry.
“I don’t intend to, Prince Veer,” said Chandraketu in a clipped tone. “I am merely stating my fears.”
“They are unnecessary fears,” dismissed Veer. He was still focused on the flower, running a long finger slowly across the slope of a delicate petal, as if mesmerized by its scent and beauty.
“You may think so. Until you have daughters of your own,” Chandraketu disagreed.
Veer fell into a thoughtful silence and then looked up sharply, as if realizing something.
“Did Princess Chandrasena have another offer?” he asked shrewdly. “Is that why you are refusing me?”
Chandraketu glanced away, avoiding Veer’s eyes. “Maybe.”
Shota saw Veer clench his hand, the jasmine crushed into his fist. His friend was furious and a hair’s breadth away from exploding.
“Who?” asked Veer in a dark voice.
Chandraketu either didn’t listen or ignored his intonation. “The king of Sumedh,” he answered. “Chandrasena’s mother is a native. She will be happy there.”
“And what do you think the king of Sumedh will say…” began Veer silkily, eyes still on Chandraketu.
He opened his palm, and a stray breeze launched the bruised petals into the air.
Nothing was left of the blossom that he seemed so entranced by just a moment ago.
“When he comes to find out that your daughter has spent a night with me?”
Shota put a hand over his mouth to stifle his gasp. Unfortunately, he couldn’t find a firm enough surface to bang his head against. To say such a thing to his future father-in-law, never mind a king…
He saw rage eclipse Chandraketu’s face at Veer’s words and actions. Veer was an able commander of men, but he was awful at diplomacy, as he had just demonstrated. He understood threats and intimidation and preferred a blunt approach in all his dealings. Never mind what people thought of him.
Shota pretended he couldn’t hear what came next and left as soon as he could.
He doubled back to their party as they stood waiting for Veer’s conclusion of his meeting with King Chandraketu.
A few minutes later, Veer ambled toward them unhurriedly, a hand pressed to his rapidly swelling, bloodstained lower lip.
“Veer!” Virat exclaimed, looking at Veer’s bleeding lip in astonishment. “What the hell happened back there?”
“Chandraketu still has some strength in him, despite his wiry appearance,” said Veer ruefully, wiping the drop of blood from his lower lip with a finger.
“Chandraketu did this to you?” asked Virat incredulously. “He actually hurt you? How dare he? After calling us to the negotiations.”
“To be honest, his punch is very much justified,” said Shota, scowling in reproach at Veer.
“Why are you supporting them?” asked Virat, annoyed. “I shudder to think what state the king is in if you both have resorted to body blows.”
“He’s fine. I didn’t lay a finger on him,” said Veer coolly, meeting Shota’s eyes.
One of their courtiers stepped forward. “I guess this means the negotiations are at a standstill again?” he asked, wringing his hands.
“How could you think about negotiations after such a thing happened? Chandraketu obviously needs to be taught a lesson,” said Virat, hotheaded as ever.
“Let it go, Virat,” said Veer, dabbing at the still bleeding lip with a cloth Shota handed to him. “Honestly, it isn’t his fault. I provoked him. And as for the talks, things are going exactly like we wished.”
“Are we just going to let this insult go? Pretend this never happened?” demanded Virat.
“I’d be upset, Virat,” said Veer, his voice quiet and serious, “if someone attacked my future father-in-law.”
Silence fell over the group.
“He agreed to your choice?” asked the courtier in a hushed voice.
Veer’s smile was all teeth and triumph, despite the crack in his lip.
“Yes.”
“I don’t know if I should congratulate or caution you, Veer,” Shota said once everyone had left after offering a round of congratulations. “What the king has said about the princess rings true from what I’ve seen. Are you sure about this? This will not be an easy marriage.”
“But so worth it. You wouldn’t understand, Shota.”
“You are right. I don’t understand. Why Chandrasena of all people?”
Veer had a faraway look in his eye. “She is…worth it.”
* * *
Veer had given Chandrasena a lot of importance all those years ago. No wonder he was upset to discover she had murdered his best friend.
Upset was such a mild word for what Veer went through after that incident.
The incident of Ilavu happened right after their return from Amaravathi.
Not only had Veer lost his best friend but had also discovered how much his wife, for whom he had fought and went against a lot of people’s advice, hated him to that extent.
Shota didn’t understand the affairs of the heart.
Or rather, preferred not to peer too deeply into them.
He was under a vow of bachelorhood and at times, he was glad he was free from the messy entanglements of the heart.
Although he’d taken that vow under duress and for reasons of his own, he didn’t regret it.
But there was no denying the loneliness and need that plagued him at times. Thankfully, those times were rare.
He gazed absently at one of the sculptures on the walls of the sanctum, a scene where two women were pleasuring a man. No one paid any mind to the shockingly erotic sculptures. The saying behind it was that one had to be above such pursuits if one comes to seek the divine.
A flash of red caught his eye. He turned to see a woman in a red saree walking toward him. And just like that, her presence called his discipline into question. Her hands were joined in prayer, her eyes on the religious sculptures set at intervals on the outer walls.
As if feeling his gaze, she turned to look at him.
His first instinct was to flee. Shota groaned under his breath.
Of course, Sameera would be here. He had been expecting her, but he had thought of setting their meeting at a place of his choice.
But she took the matter out of his hands by coming first. Outwardly, though, he remained calm, waiting until the woman reached him before speaking.
“Fancy seeing you here,” he remarked pleasantly, like he was commenting on the weather.
Sameera smiled serenely. “It wouldn’t be a surprise if I arranged it so we would meet here today.”
Shota frowned. She appeared none the worse for wear for making the journey from Amaravathi, and fetching as always, in that shade of red. But then, red had always suited her. He wished he could say her smile was as false as his lack of surprise but that would be untrue.
It was one of the first things he had noticed about her, her delight in everyday things. In the direst of situation, she found a ray of hope. And for a man jaded by his chosen profession, that quality was incredibly refreshing. He felt a pang, easily stifled, for the happier times of the past.
“I suppose you have some information for me?” he asked, eager to be done with this task.
She nodded.
“Well, tell me.”
“In case it escaped your notice,” she said in dulcet tones. “I am in the middle of a pradakshina.” It was the practice of making rounds around the temple a set number of times.
Shota nodded, coming to a decision. “All right, I’ll accompany you on the rest of the rounds and then we can go to the back of the temple. There is a shed where we can talk in peace.”
“Are you sure you want to do that?” she asked archly.
His brows lowered. “Why wouldn’t I want to do that? I don’t want to lose sight of you. This place is just as good as any other for having a conversation.”
“I still have seven rounds to complete. Are you sure you want to walk them with me?” she said, tilting her head to the side, her eyes lighting with laughter.
Shota gaped at her in silence. One of the innumerable marriage customs practiced in the subcontinent was to have the man and woman walk together for seven times.
Her mouth twisted, the laughter fading away, leaving a pregnant silence between them.
“I thought not. Wait in this shed. I’ll come find you,” she said, walking away.