Chapter 22 The Reluctant Rescue #2
A sudden noise, like the fluttering of wings, began. It seemed to come from every direction and all at once. His men stood to attention, weapons drawn at the unknown enemy, faces fearful.
She threw off the blanket to sit up, unsheathing her dagger, forgetting that she had intended to keep it hidden until the right moment, but a glance toward the prince showed he was aware and merely nodded at her. She took it to mean he was all right with her having a weapon in her hand.
Overhead, the moon slipped behind the clouds, enveloping them in darkness. The trees creaked a long nameless sound, even though there was no wind.
The night lit up with pinpricks of light. At first, she thought they were fireflies, but they kept getting larger, weaving to and fro. A soldier touched one with his finger.
Immediately, he toppled over and lay still on the ground. Virat crouched near him, holding a finger up to his nose. “He’s still breathing, just fast asleep.”
The balls of light suddenly grew agitated, their paths erratic, zigzagging between the trees and bushes.
The men began to fall one by one as the balls of light touched them.
Chandra sat still and watched with frightened eyes.
She recalled all the myths she had heard from her nursemaid about people who ventured into these woods and disappearing, only to end up dead the next day.
“Princess, you should find a place to hide,” said Veer, blocking one of the lights with his shield when it careened toward her, before leaving to join the fray.
The balls of light became more numerous, moving faster and faster until it became almost impossible to escape their touch. Unfortunately, they seemed to come from all around them, so it was difficult to pinpoint the source. Most men had fallen to the ground, put to an enchanted sleep.
She saw a light approach the prince from behind. She didn’t think and shouted. “Prince, behind you.”
Veer jumped out of the way just in time, but the light changed direction and weaved toward her now and struck her square in the chest.
Darkness fell across her vision as her eyes rolled back, and she remembered falling forward, to be caught against a warm chest, and then nothing.
When she woke up, she found the prince watching her with a concerned gaze.
His hand was raised, as if he had been debating whether to shake her.
Relief filled his eyes when she spoke. “Where am I?” She ran a hand over her hair, dislodging twigs and dead leaves.
She scanned her surroundings and saw the distant orange glow of dying flames around the perimeter.
Her mind snapped to alertness. “What happened? Is everyone all right?”
It didn’t occur to her, at that time, the incongruity of the question. She, the prisoner, asking about the well-being of her captors.
“Everyone is fine, Princess,” he said, looking at her strangely.
“The lights are gone,” she said, glancing around in relief.
Veer was unusually serious. “Listen, Princess. You were right about the Nature Spirits. They are the lights you saw before falling asleep. They told me something very interesting. I think you should know about it,” he said, his tone somber.
At Chandra’s nod, he continued. “The Nature Spirits do bring the grove prosperity. Their presence here means the people who have made this place their home will always have riches. But the spirits themselves are bound here because of a curse and can only go free when this grove is destroyed.”
“Destroyed?”
“The spirits have asked me to burn it to the ground.” He paused grimly. “And I plan to do it the day after tomorrow.”
“I’m not sure I understand. Why would they ask you of all people for help? You are a foreigner to these parts.”
Veer smiled one of his humorless smiles.
“Would you burn something if it brought you wealth, Princess? They did ask for help from the people here, but no one was willing to take on that task, for fear of losing the fortune these spirits bring. Hence, they asked me, a stranger with no stake in this matter, to help them out.”
“If you have already decided on burning the woods, why are you telling me this?” she asked.
“Because you know the people around these parts. Will three days be enough time to evacuate them all?”
Chandra held a hand to her head. This was getting more complicated.
She didn’t anticipate that when she chose to stay here, she would be asked such a question.
“I’m not sure. I think it might be sufficient, but I don’t think some will be willing to leave no matter what. I shall have to speak to my father.”
Veer nodded, but then hesitated. “I know your father, Princess. He will drag his feet, but you should know, I won’t wait forever. Three days and not a moment longer.”
Chandra had left the next day with Amaravathi soldiers who were dispatched to escort her back. She didn’t see him again.
Not until the day of their wedding, when they didn’t even have the time to exchange a word. And then later when she had stood over the dead body of his friend, watching as the shock on his face morphed into a hate so searing and set in stone.
But she had heard of the great fire that torched the Navari Woods exactly three days later from the day of her imprisonment, just as he had promised. People had cursed him, bemoaned his presence and wished him gone. Only she seemed to know the true intent behind his actions.
And no one believed or was even willing to listen to her, their grudge and prejudice against him too great. And after her father’s decree that she was to speak to no one about that incident, her voice fell silent as well.
But she never forgot that night or the enigmatic man who made gray decisions that became a hallmark of all his actions from there on.
* * *
The discordant voice of a street hawker broke into her thoughts and Chandra realized she had reached the market.
Villagers milled about in the thoroughfares.
Women—wearing their best sarees in jewel-bright colors of vermilion, indigo blue, and marigold yellow—carried offerings of fruit and flowers.
Her own saree of unremarkable deep rusty brown that she had borrowed from Matangi would hopefully go unnoticed in the crowd.
The main temple gates opened into this marketplace, and she avoided them, knowing that Veer would probably be working on one of the gates.
The market buzzed with activity, redolent with smells of spices and flowers.
Hawkers, selling everything from grain to silk to cattle, tried to catch her eye as she walked by their shops.
She glanced down at the small piece of paper in her hand, hardly able to believe that Sameera was here of all places.
She almost passed the stall of spices when she managed to spot her friend. More by her voice, really, as Sameera had draped the pallu of her saree over the heavy hair bun at her nape, partially obscuring her face.
Chandra shook her head when she realized her friend was haggling with a shopkeeper who was looking increasingly harried. Entering the shop, she poked her in the back.
Sameera turned and squealed.
“Hello, Sameera…oomph.”
Chandra’s greeting got lost in the exuberant hug she got from her friend.
“It is soooo good to see you,” said Sameera.
Her grin threatened to split her cheeks.
“How are you? You look a little thin but overall, I must say better than what I feared. Is your husband treating you right? Tell me all about him. We were so worried for you.”
“Slow down, all right. Give me a minute. I have stuff to purchase,” she said smiling.
The shopkeeper turned a hopeful face toward the new customer. Chandra fished out a grocery list and gave it to him. “I’d like to buy these things for the temple.” He gave it a cursory glance and motioned for one of his shop boys to fetch the things needed.
“You have to reduce the prices now,” argued Sameera, turning to the shopkeeper with an anticipatory look.
“The items are being bought for the temple. You can’t look at profits when your goods are being used for divine purposes, don’t you agree?
” The shopkeeper’s forehead looked like it would have permanent wrinkles after dealing with Sameera.
But when it came to anything related to the temple, the vendor couldn’t help but accept defeat. By the time they left the shop, he was coerced into giving them not only the choicest of the spices but also the price Sameera demanded for her goods.
“Ever the merchant’s daughter, aren’t you? Can’t pass up the opportunity to bargain,” remarked Chandrasena as Sameera instructed her palanquin bearers to leave.
“Ah, a bargain is good for the soul, as my father used to say.” Sameera linked her elbow, and they went down the street, their parcels in hand.
“And the fact that the shopkeeper wished under his breath that you would never visit again is all no never mind to you?”
Sameera shrugged. “If he were a true merchant, he wouldn’t have wished away a customer.
I may be ironfisted, but he should still be able to make a profit at the price I gave him.
Not as much as the greedy man had hoped to, though.
Anyway, enough about him. Let’s talk about something new. I am sure you have lots to tell me.”
Sameera had been a friend to her for about five—no—close to six years now. She became her confidante and companion during that time in her life when she had sorely needed a friendly presence other than her maid.
Chandra loved Kalpana but her constant guilt wore on her at times. Sameera, with her easy personality, brought some much-needed levity. Once Guruji vetted her, Chandra had revealed the true nature of the past events to her as well.
“I do have lots to tell you,” said Chandra, agreeing with her. “But let’s start with what in the name of the goddess do you think you are doing here?”
“What? I can’t pay my dear friend a little visit?” asked Sameera, pretending a sudden interest in the drawstring purse she had tied to her wrist.