The Iron Ring

Home > Childrens > The Iron Ring > Page 9
The Iron Ring Page 9

by Lloyd Alexander


  "Watch, cousin, how I discipline your namesake," Nahusha said. "With you, I shall be more severe."

  Nahusha raised a hand and struck the monkey across the face. Little Akka screamed and went skidding over the flagstones.

  Nahusha tossed the chain to his servant. "Take the vicious brute away. Whip him diligently until he learns who is master."

  Growling, teeth bared, Hashkat snatched out his sword. Tamar seized his arm, while Mirri and Adi-Kavi shouldered the struggling monkey king aside.

  Murmurs of shock rose from the courtiers, for Ashwara and Nahusha had likewise drawn their blades. Eyes locked, they crouched in fighting posture. Bala sprang to his feet.

  "Sheathe your swords!" The king of Muktara's command rang with anger and indignation. "There are no weapons drawn in durbar. Shame! Shame on each of you. You disgrace yourselves and dishonor me, as well."

  It was all Tamar could do to force Hashkat to put away the rusty blade; and, even then, he tried to break free of Mirri and the suta. "Stop it, you fool," Tamar hissed in his ear. "We can't do anything right now."

  "I have seen and heard enough," declared Bala, holding his voice in tight rein. "I will abide no more outbursts and reproaches. I have come to my decision."

  14. Bala's Decision

  "Hear me well." Bala's stern glance went from Ashwara to Nahusha. "Enemies you may be; kinsmen, even so. You share blood and lineage. Therefore, the quarrel is within your family. It is improper for one outside that family to interfere in its disputes. Set your own house in order. I give my support to neither of you."

  Ashwara bowed his tawny head. "If that is your thoughtful decision, so be it."

  "A thoughtful decision indeed, but a costly one," said Nahusha. "I must, of course, withdraw those benefits I discussed with you. Apart from that, is it a wise decision? When families throw stones at one another, an onlooker may get his own head broken. However, you have chosen to make no choice." Nahusha shrugged. "I abide by it."

  "Go from here, Ashwara. I urge you to go quickly," said Bala. "Nahusha, I remind you: My hospitality reaches beyond these palace walls. As long as he is within my borders, Ashwara remains under my protection. Make no attempt to harm or hinder him."

  "Would I disrespect your royal will?" replied Nahusha. "I only hope my noble cousin and I soon meet on other grounds.

  "I cherish the same hope for this ravishing gopi." Nahusha's eyes rested on Mirri. "May the path of her karma and mine one day cross." "That," said Mirri, "would be a day you'd never forget."

  "And you," Nahusha added to Tamar, "trot back to your vast kingdom. The world is a dangerous place for a mighty monarch like you. As you shall find out if ever you come within sword's length of me. Bark all you please, puppy. I bite."

  Tamar's face burned. It took all his strength to choke back the challenge he would have flung at Nahusha. He was trembling with fury. Ashwara motioned for him and the others to follow as he strode from the hall. The crowd parted to make way. Hashkat, still agitated, kept looking back. Akka had not reappeared.

  Only in the courtyard, waiting for their horses to be brought, and beyond earshot of unwanted listeners, did Tamar speak.

  "We failed you," he said bitterly to Ashwara. "Our help meant nothing. How was I fool enough to think otherwise? Impressive escort? A pitiful band."

  "Our gopi made an impression," put in Adi-Kavi. "You have to admit that much."

  "So did you," Mirri said to Tamar. "The dangerous kind. You don't need an enemy like Nahusha. But-I'm proud of you. It must have rattled your warrior's code, but at least you had sense enough to keep your mouth shut. Most of the time.

  "Besides," she went on, turning to Ashwara, "I don't think it was all that much of a failure. Something good came of it. Am I right?"

  "You are," said Ashwara. "Yes, I was disappointed when Bala refused me. But he also refused Nahusha. Had Bala sided with him, it would have tipped the balance against me. With the king of Muktara standing apart, I am well satisfied.

  "Keep on your journey and take my friendship with you," Ashwara said to Tamar. "Should need arise, I shall find you. However," he added, "be cautious. Ranapura is well to the north of here, where the Snow Mountains begin to rise. That is the direction you should take, but it will bring you into lands that Nahusha controls. Avoid them. Turn east before you come to Ranapura's borders. They straddle the Sabla River, so you must cross and make a long circle back to the mountains. I dare not try to guide you, much as I wish to do."

  "You have your own task," Tamar said. "Bala warned you to go quickly. You are under his protection here, but I think he knows Nahusha will not honor it."

  Hashkat, during this, had been impatiently nudging Tamar, reminding him Akka was still a prisoner. "I have to get him free, the sooner the better. The way that villain treats him, he won't last long."

  "What help can I give?" said Ashwara.

  "None that I can ask," said Hashkat. "You need to look out for yourself. You can't risk tangling with Nahusha. Akka's one of my Bandar-loka. He's my responsibility; it's up to me to answer for his safety."

  "O king of monkeys," said Ashwara, smiling and touching his palms together, "you are less a monkey and more a king than I supposed. Namaste. I revere the spirit in you.

  "I can help by telling you this much," Ashwara went on. "Nahusha has surely traveled with a grand escort: chariots, horses, perhaps elephants. So, they must follow the only good road along the Sabla. Whatever plan you shape, set it in motion there. And soon, before he passes into his own territory." Servants now came, leading their horses. Ashwara turned to Tamar. "King of Sundari, what can I wish for you? That you go well and swiftly to Mahapura, knowing what awaits you? If I read your heart aright, there is some nobility in it. Whether you dreamed or not: Whatever the outcome, may it be to your honor.

  "And this gopi?" Ashwara looked fondly at Mirri. "What shall I wish for you? That is not for me to say, since you may be wiser than any of us. Trust what your heart and your dharma bid you. To you both: Namaste."

  Ashwara embraced all, including Rajaswami, who reminded him to keep looking on the bright side. No sooner had he galloped from the courtyard than Hashkat rounded ferociously on the grooms.

  "Where's my horse?" he shouted, shaking his fist. "Idiots, why haven't you brought it? How dare you keep a kshatriya waiting! What are you up to? Are you trying to switch mounts and fob off some other? What crooked scheme are you hatching? I'll have all your heads for that."

  The confused and terrified grooms, pleading innocence, offered to go immediately and find the missing animal. Hashkat pushed them aside.

  "Out of my way, fools! I don't trust you to recognize my steed or even lay a finger on it. I'll go myself."

  The trembling grooms, only too happy to escape with their lives, scurried away. Hashkat stamped arrogantly into the stables, while Mirri and Tamar exchanged puzzled glances. He was back within moments, leading a prancing bay mare.

  "I needed a horse of my own," explained Hashkat. "So many to choose from, I picked the one who insisted on following me-after I untied her."

  Rajaswami sighed. "Since she insisted, I suppose you couldn't have done otherwise. Even so, there are times when I fear for the state of your dharma."

  "I fear for the state of my rear end," said Hashkat. "I didn't take time to borrow a saddle."

  Galloping from the city, they left the road for the cover of the forest, where Mirri was impatient to change her sari for her cowherd's garments. She had scarcely done so when, shedding clouds of feathers, Garuda swooped down to land with a thud on the turf.

  "What, you?" Mirri shook a finger at the bird. "I told you to stay and wait."

  "You didn't say how long," whined Garuda. "Shmaa! I should sit in a tree forever? You told me to behave like a brave eagle. I did. I thought you might be in trouble and I'd better look for you. Just to make sure you didn't all decide to go off and leave me."

  "We have trouble enough," Tamar said. "Be quiet. If you can. Akka's been caught. We're
going to free him." He beckoned to Hashkat and Adi-Kavi. "Ashwara warned us to act quickly. We'll do it as soon as we see Nahusha's escort turn onto the road.

  "Hashkat and I have swords," he went on. "Suta, can you draw a bow?" "As well as any, better than some," said Adi-Kavi. "If you're thinking of my fighting anybody-no. By rule, it's strictly forbidden to sutas, as it is to brahmanas. Were I allowed to put an arrow into someone, it would be Nahusha. But I can't. I'm sorry."

  "I understand. I respect your rule," Tamar said. "I'll make do. So, counting two warriors."

  "Which all adds up to one warrior and a monkey," Mirri put in. "You'll attack Nahusha's whole train? I can tell you how far you'll get."

  "Do you think I'm that foolish? We'll attack them piecemeal, strike quickly, fall back, strike again. If I must, I'll challenge Nahusha to single combat. He knows I'm a king, so he can't refuse. That's the code."

  "I'm sure he'll observe it," Mirri tartly replied.

  "Be careful. They're here," interrupted Hashkat, who had been peering through the foliage at the roadside. Tamar hurried to see for himself Ashwara had been right. The retinue was splendid: half a dozen horse-drawn chariots, each holding a driver and an armored warrior, Nahusha himself in the lead with his banner-bearer; an elephant, covered with embroidered draperies, its mahout perched on its back, carrying a sharp, hooked goad; the pack animals bringing up the rear.

  "Let them go by," Mirri said. "Give them a good long head start. We'll have more time to work out something. They'll have to camp at nightfall. By then, we'll know better what we're dealing with."

  "By then, we can do nothing," Tamar said impatiently. "The rules of war forbid a night battle. An unbreakable law."

  "Who said 'battle'?" Mirri countered. "We're not battling. We're quietly rescuing one of His Monkey ship's subjects."

  "Quietly?" Tamar said. "That's more like 'cowardly."

  "All the better," said Hashkat. "Not a kshatriya's way, but it suits a monkey. The gopi's right. Sneaky and stealthy."

  "Akka's one of your folk. You decide," Tamar said. "First, we have to find out where he is. How?"

  "Easily," Mirri said. She turned to Garuda, hunched on the ground beside her. "Fly over Nahusha's escort. They won't pay attention to a bird. You'll see what they've done with Akka and come right back."

  "Me do what?" Garuda burst out. "Waa! My nerves won't stand it. I don't have the wings-look, I'm shedding, I'm molting."

  "You're an eagle." Mirri smoothed his feathers. "I know you can do it."

  "Can't. Won't." Garuda made gargling noises and snapped his beak shut. After a moment, he turned a red rimmed eye on Mirri and bobbed his head. "All right. But you'll owe me for this, all of you. Shmaa! You'll owe me plenty."

  The sky was barely lightening when they left their horses by the roadside, with Rajaswami on watch. Much of the night they had waited, sleeping fitfully. Garuda, for all his wails of complaint, had done better than promised. Akka, the bird reported, was with the baggage and pack animals, cramped in a light wicker cage; Garuda had also been able to tell where the chariots had been drawn up, where the horses had been tethered, and how the tents had been arranged.

  "What a fine eagle," Mirri had told him, while Garuda preened himself and clucked proudly, all the while turning adoring glances toward the girl. "You knew you could do it."

  Now, as they approached the encampment on foot, stepping carefully through the dry weeds, Tamar admitted to himself that Mirri's cautious plan had been best. The warriors' tents had been pitched near the riverbank, with Nahusha's high silken pavilion in their midst. Nahusha, confident, had not troubled to post sentries. The cooks, first to rise, had not yet wakened; the night fires had burned to ashes.

  Tamar stationed Adi-Kavi a little way behind them while he and Hashkat moved soundlessly toward the wagons. Mirri followed, keeping an eye on the tents and the servants stretched asleep on the ground, ready to give warning at any sign of Nahusha's people stirring.

  Tamar put one hand on Hashkat's arm and, with the other, pointed to a wagon. On top of a pile of bundles sat the cage. Hashkat grinned and bobbed his head; then, as Tamar stood alert, scuttled to the wagon and swung over the side. The small figure curled within the cage whimpered. Hashkat made soft, chirping noises of reassurance. The dawn sky was brightening with bands of pink and gold. Tamar gestured for him to make haste. Hashkat picked up the cage and started to clamber down.

  They had not reckoned with the elephant. Sensing strangers, the big animal flapped her ears, raised her trunk, and trumpeted in alarm. Tamar snatched out his sword. Clutching the cage, Hashkat raced past him. The elephant, meantime, had uprooted the stake that secured her leg rope, and charged blindly through the camp, trampling whatever stood in her way. Bewildered warriors stumbled and scattered out of her path.

  Mirri headed for the road, pulling Tamar along with her. Adi-Kavi urgently beckoned for them to follow him. Rajaswami frantically waved his umbrella. Hashkat, with his burden, had nearly reached the waiting horses. Leaping over a hillock, he misstepped, his foot caught in a tangle of weeds. The monkey king tumbled head over heels and sprawled on the ground. The cage went spinning from his hand.

  15. Little Akka

  Little Akka squealed and flung his arms around his head as the cage rolled beyond Hashkat's grasp, bouncing down the slope back toward the wagons. Tamar sprang past Hashkat, lurching to his feet, and ran to seize the wicker cage. He halted. Some of the warriors, blades drawn, were rapidly bearing down on him. Mirri turned back to join him, Adi-Kavi close behind.

  That same instant, squawking and beating his wings, down swooped Garuda, feathers flying, beady eyes alight. The bird locked his talons around the bars and soared skyward, bearing the cage and its screeching contents high into the clouds and out of sight.

  "He'll find us." Tamar jumped astride Gayatri. Mirri, already mounted, plunged into the forest. Hashkat and Adi-Kavi followed, with Rajaswami, brandishing his umbrella, galloping after them.

  When at last they halted, well away from Nahusha's camp, Hashkat flung off his warrior's gear and clambered into the treetops. Rajaswami collapsed on the ground, murmuring "Oh, my goodness! Oh, my goodness!" while Tamar ran to the edge of the clearing, listening for any sounds of pursuit.

  "Nahusha has enough to keep him busy," Adi-Kavi said. "He won't worry about a monkey."

  "But I will," said Hashkat, who had climbed down without catching a glimpse of Garuda. "Akka's worse off than ever. Poor little fellow, he's in the clutches of a lunatic bird, and who knows what that maniac mop head's likely to do? Drop him in the river? That's how he lost the ruby."

  While Mirri tried to calm the agitated monkey, Tamar began to calculate how long they dared to wait. He was about to raise that question when Adi-Kavi, peering upward, called out and waved his arms.

  Moments later, Garuda plummeted into the clearing, letting go of the cage as he flopped heavily on his belly and skidded to a stop.

  "There's my brave eagle!" Mirri cried, as Hashkat ran to break open the locked door. Adi-Kavi and Tamar hurried to help him snap the wicker bars.

  Garuda, ignoring even Mirri, had begun a pigeon-toed sort of triumphal dance, treading around and around in a circle, beating his wings, fanning out his ragged tail feathers, gargling, chuckling, practically crowing like a rooster.

  "I'm the one who got him!" Garuda warbled. "All you incompetent dimwits fumbling about! Shmaa! What a pack of idiots! And who saved him? Oh, no, don't bother to take time to thank me. But I'll tell you this: You owe me more than ever-all of you-especially that grinning, gibbering baboon."

  "We do owe you," Mirri said, while Garuda kept on with his prancing. "That was a great deed."

  "Yes," declared Garuda, sniffing haughtily, "it certainly was."

  Hashkat, meantime, had reached inside the cage to lift out Akka and hold the young monkey in his arms. Akka's mouth opened and shut wordlessly. He no longer wore the mock-royal costume; the weals and bruises from the whipping Nahusha had ordered
showed on his hunched back and spindly legs; and his curling tail, nearly as long as himself, had lost patches of hair.

  "Terrible, terrible!" clucked Rajaswami, coming to peer anxiously at the rescued prisoner. "Poor chap! Locked up, tormented-and, on top of it all, swept into the sky."

  "That was the best part; it made up for everything else," Akka chattered, regaining breath and voice. "I want to do that again! Where's the bird? Next time, I'll go higher."

  "My goodness, I hope not," said Rajaswami. "Let me remind you-and this applies to small monkeys as well as large persons: A piece of advice that is always sound: If you have no wings, keep near the ground.

  "You just be glad you're in one piece," Hashkat said with some severity, now assured that Akka was largely undamaged. "I've been looking all over for you. What happened? How did you get in such a mess?"

  "I didn't do anything," protested Akka, unwinding himself from Hashkat's embrace and hopping to the ground. "Well, all I did was-I only slipped into a village one night, to have a look 'round. And here's a pile of nuts at one of the door sills. They might as well have been begging me, 'Please take us, don't let us sit here all by ourselves. So, I grabbed as many as I could."

  "Naturally," said Hashkat, "as any right-thinking monkey would have done."

  "But then, as soon I did, a noose goes tight around my wrist. A trap!"

  "Tricky! Sneaky!" Hashkat burst out. "Present company excepted, but that's humans for you. You never know what cookery they're up to."

  "That's been more or less my own observation," Adi-Kavi said. "Even so, young fellow, a clever little monkey like you should easily have got out of a trap."

  "I didn't have a chance," Akka said. "Those villagers were quicker than I thought. They tied me up in a sack, enough to stifle me. They kept me awhile; then a trader came passing through and they sold me to him.

  "Next thing I know," Akka went on, "I'm in Nahusha's palace. He bought me, you see, for his amusement. I wasn't the only one caged up. He's got a whole collection-birds, beasts-even a tiger."

 

‹ Prev