The Archer at Dawn

by Swati Teerdhala

  “I wonder what people would say if they knew she was the legendary Viper. The death bringer to the Jansan army,” Laksh said. “And your new captain? He’d be so disappointed to know the newest addition to his team is not who he thinks. Is working against him.”

  The sun flared into Kunal’s eyes as he circled around Laksh, making sure to get his back to a wall.

  “Stop playing around, Laksh. These half-truths and innuendos don’t suit you.”

  An emotion flashed over Laksh’s pointed features—annoyance or anger, Kunal couldn’t tell. “And they suit you?”

  “Not at all. I hate this. All of this.”

  “Your Viper doesn’t.”

  “And that’s her choice. She has a knack for it, but she is true to her core. Loyal to her people. What are you?”

  Laksh cracked his knuckles, the smirk sliding off his face. “Are we really going to talk about who is more loyal to their people? Look at yourself, Kunal. Would-be deserter, working with those Dharkans.”

  Kunal gave him a grim smile. “Maybe if you hadn’t tried to capture me and use me as a bargaining chip, I’d be singing a different tune. And I have broken a few oaths,” he said, swallowing the lump in his throat that still formed at those thoughts. “But my first oath was to this country, this land.”

  “And you believe the Dharkans will do better? Do they know who you are, Kunal? How do you know they won’t leave you behind, the poor bastard Samyad?”

  Something snapped in Kunal. He walked toward Laksh, and to his credit, his old friend didn’t flinch in the face of Kunal’s anger.

  “I would never work with Dharmdev’s group.”

  “Really? Have you even talked to them? Or Dharmdev? Your own countrymen? Or are you making assumptions and judgments? Typical for the Kunal I knew.”

  “I might have felt your words if you hadn’t chosen to insult and discredit good people. I don’t know what your problem is with the Blades, but I’m not getting into something that’s clearly personal,” he said, trying out a thought that had just occurred to him.

  “Handing the reins over to those foreigners?” Laksh said, his reaction fierce enough to confirm Kunal’s suspicion. There was something personal.

  “Those foreigners? How is that any better than what Vardaan is saying? ‘Might is right, the queens were weak, only I knew best.’”

  Laksh paused. The silence cooled the heat between them.

  “You may have a point, Kunal, I’m big enough to admit that,” Laksh said softly. “I may have my own issues with the Blades. But the others—Dharmdev, the Scales—they’ve suffered under Vardaan’s rule. They’re scared.”

  Laksh’s concern was so sincere that it caused Kunal to do a double take.

  Made his heart ache.

  This was the friend he had known and loved. The jokester, the one who saw both sides and argued for both. He had been the balance between him and Alok.

  “I need you to do something else for me.”

  “And what’s that?”

  “I need to get into the palace.”

  Laksh had clearly drunk the traders’ moon-touched herbal drink.

  “Impossible.”

  “Nothing’s impossible.”

  Kunal gave him an impatient look. “Why, then? It’ll be crawling with soldiers who might recognize you. You’re supposed to be dead.”

  “Concerned for me?”

  Kunal sputtered in indignation.

  “I’ll be fine,” he said. “Worry about yourself. I just need a door that I can slip through.”

  “What could you possibly gain by me getting you into the palace? I thought you wanted me to win the king’s boon. Not get yourself killed.”

  “I’d tell you, Kunal. I’d let you in on everything—a full debrief—if you joined us.”

  Kunal flinched. Not this again.

  “I thought as much,” Laksh said. “You know I can’t tell you why. And honestly, it’d jeopardize you.”

  Kunal peered closely at his former friend. What could Laksh need to do in the palace? His first instinct was to warn the team, to set up Aahal and Farhan as lookouts while Laksh moved around the palace. But he couldn’t do that without revealing his initial deception.

  “I’ll get you into the palace.” Kunal straightened as he heard footsteps in the distance. “But I need you to get out of here. Now.”

  Laksh gave an exaggerated bow and left.

  Kunal rubbed his temple. He’d find a way out of this mess. If he had the steel in his heart that his uncle had, he’d be able to just get rid of Laksh with a quick swipe of his knife.

  He needed to find something to turn the tide and put him back on solid land.

  But what?

  Esha found herself wandering the palace in the early morning, the dark skies above her reflecting her mood. The stars hadn’t bothered to come out, and it was so early that even the birds were silent. The image of the soldier in her nightmare had been playing again and again in her head like an unending song.

  She stepped out of the palace corridors into a small courtyard that bordered the edge of the palace gardens. Moonlight spilled over an empty marble bench, casting odd shapes across the grass. Once, on a morning like this when she had woken from a bad dream, her father had taken her into these gardens and they sat under the blooming ashoka tree, counting the petals on each flower until she fell back asleep.

  Esha closed her eyes, fighting a wave of grief that threatened to overwhelm her. If only she hadn’t gone to the library that night. There had been rumors of danger, but she had been so adamant. Such a stubborn child.

  And now she was back in this city.

  Her father used to take her to the bazaar in Gwali every moon to see the dance troupes whirling in mesmerizing circles. Her mother would take her to the temple, picking marigolds from these gardens beforehand to bring as an offering.

  She’d once felt at home in this city.

  She’d once almost died in this city.

  That was when she had made her vow, after she had been thrown out of the dungeons of the citadel. To honor her parents’ memory by getting justice.

  And what had she done so far in the city to honor them? Nothing.

  “Are you all right, Lady Esha?” a voice asked.

  Esha jumped and turned to face the newcomer, swallowing the lump in her throat as she quickly adjusted her sari and patted her hair flat. Lady Yamini walked into the moonlight and it cast a misshapen halo around her head.

  “I’m fine,” Esha said before hastily adding, “Your Highness.”

  Yamini waved her hand. “Don’t bother with the title. I can’t abide all this protocol and preening anyway.”

  Esha chuckled. “You and me both.”

  “My mother felt the same way when she married into my father’s clan. She is not one for pomp. Was,” Yamini said, her brow furrowing for a moment.

  “I’m sorry,” Esha said. “It’s never easy to lose a loved one.”

  “It’s the way of life, isn’t it?” Yamini’s voice was steadier than Esha’s would have been.

  “I wish it weren’t.”

  “You know, some Yavar believe there exists a path to eternal life. A way to avoid the Chariot at Dusk. It’s become a new fad to search for the treasure of Vasu the Wanderer.”

  Esha chuckled. “I’m not sure I’d want eternal life. I just want a full one, well lived.”

  “We can agree on that, Lady Esha,” Yamini said, a grin splitting her face. “Having to deal with all these courtiers for eternity?” She shuddered.

  “Are you not a fan of court, my lady?”

  “I wasn’t brought up in it, this lifestyle of half-truths and full lies. I grew up in the north, with my mother’s clan in the tallest peaks of the Aiforas,” she said, a hint of pride in her voice. “I was brought up as a warrior and tactician for our clans.” She didn’t say anything else, but Esha could tell by her tone that she didn’t think court life matched up.

  “Impressive. I was trained to fig
ht as well. I’d love to see you in the sparring court.” Esha paused. “But the king doesn’t condone such behavior here. Another time and place.”

  Yamini made a noise. “These rules are stupid. We would never handicap half the population back home.”

  “I’m of a similar mind,” Esha said, pausing and looking around. “Though please don’t repeat that.”

  Yamini looked affronted. “Of course not. I can hardly fault you for being sane.”

  Esha burst out laughing, which she hadn’t expected to do that morning. Yamini’s lips twitched as well, a crack in her otherwise stoic armor. Esha found herself relaxing a bit in the young woman’s company.

  “I can’t wait to see you on the battlefield one day, Lady Yamini. For that matter, I’d love to see you among a group of noble ladies at court. I’m sure you’d fare much better than you think.”

  “You know, it’s not the ladies I have trouble with,” Yamini said, indicating to Esha that they should continue walking. “It’s the men. They never seem to know what to do with me.”

  “Really? I would’ve never thought,” Esha said, laughing. Yamini gave her a look before realizing Esha was joking.

  “That right there. That ease and charm, it’s not something I have naturally,” she said, no trace of embarrassment on her face at revealing a weakness. Esha liked the honesty with which Yamini faced life. It reminded her of Kunal, in a way.

  “I’m sure charm is not necessary on a battlefield.”

  “It doesn’t hurt when leading soldiers.” Yamini gave her a wry grin.

  “You lead an army?” Esha asked before she could rein in her surprise.

  “The northern division. A league between three of our clans,” she said dismissively.

  Esha kept a neutral smile on her face, storing the information away to tell Harun later.

  “May I inquire what was causing you distress before?” Yamini asked, a stiff formality over her words, as if she wasn’t sure how to get the sentiment across.

  “Nothing of importance.”

  “My mother often said, ‘That which seems unimportant is typically of the most importance,’” Yamini said. It was clear she had loved her mother, her tone softening in memory.

  “Your mother was a wise woman.” Esha tried to remember more about Yamini’s mother, the daughter of another clan’s chieftain, but she couldn’t recall much.

  “Yes. She was.” Yamini interlocked her arms behind her back. “Except at the end,” she added, almost as if to herself. Her face looked lost in thought, captured by an old memory.

  “Hm?”

  “The young prince is clearly taken with you.”

  Esha startled at the sudden shift in the conversation, then considered Yamini more closely than she had at the start of their walk. Yamini’s expression had tightened.

  “That’s what they’re saying.” Esha laughed it off, trying to assuage the doubt Yamini had inadvertently given away and let the woman know that she could trust her. “But we grew up together. And I think we both just enjoy sporting events, whereas I can’t say the same for some of the other nobles.”

  Yamini’s eyes lit up. “You do? I thought I was the only one who was genuinely interested in the tournament so far. My father has always been a patron of sports, but he can be insufferable about them. Always acting as if he understands the rules better, just because he happens to have been born a man.”

  “Now that is a frustration I can empathize with. When I first started training in fighting at the palace, I was placed with a group of mostly boys.”

  Yamini groaned in sympathy. “I was as well.”

  Esha felt a sudden kinship with the girl. “Then you know exactly what I mean when I say, sometimes, the best defense is offense.”

  “I hope that means what I think it means.”

  “I got very good at wrangling frogs and snakes and relocating them. Often to new beds.”

  Yamini burst out laughing, her face filled with delight.

  “Tell me everything,” she said. “Some of my friends could still do with a frog in their beds.”

  “Oh, well, that’s my specialty,” Esha said, grinning.

  Esha slid into the steamy water of the bath, letting the heat surround her like a cocoon.

  She should try to relax. Kunal was in the citadel, she had befriended Lady Yamini, and they were a step closer to finding Reha’s exact location and rescuing her. But Kunal had also become a crowd favorite, endangering himself. And Harun barely looked at her anymore, that one moment of friendship at the last party disappearing the next day.

  She wished Kunal were with her. He had a way of speaking and seeing the world that both annoyed and calmed her, and it was that calm she sought now.

  But she wouldn’t be able to see him anymore, now that he was into the next round. He’d be surrounded by other soldiers and fighters, and she’d only see him at the champions’ parties, if then. He had been leaving her worrisome notes, though, asking questions about King Mahir and their plans after they rescued Reha—when she needed him to focus on the immediate task. They’d planned to have Kunal and some of the team case the citadel tonight, when the champions would be at the party.

  The party tonight was hosted by House Rusala, and Esha had prepared blue and black clothing to wear in their honor. She took out the blue sapphire ring she had pilfered from Harun’s gift, wondering if it would match. It was a bit reckless, but after Vardaan had taken notice of her during their last conversation, Esha wanted some extra protection. She’d be careful to hide it from Harun, but if anything happened and Vardaan was there . . . she would be prepared.

  Aditi had brought in a table full of steaming tea and bath oils, and Esha was enjoying the rose and jasmine soak in the tub. There was a small crash of metal against stone and Esha looked over to see that the flower vase had tumbled over and Aditi was clutching her hand.

  “Are you all right?” Esha asked, clambering out of the tub.

  “I’m fine, my lady. Just a burn,” she said quickly. “The water was hotter than I thought.”

  Esha reached for her, but she deftly moved out of her way, picking up the vase and signaling to one of the other servants.

  “Leave it, Aditi,” she said. “Don’t worry about it.”

  “No, no,” the girl said, bending to the floor.

  “They’re just flowers. I’ll help—I don’t want you to slip.”

  “You’re too kind, my lady.”

  “Kind, my arse,” Esha grumbled, pulling on clothes to join her on the floor. Aditi had bent over to pick up the fallen rose petals and Esha kneeled beside her. Her lip was trembling and it seemed her maid was in more pain than she was letting on. Esha placed a gentle hand on her shoulder.

  “Don’t worry about this,” she said. Aditi looked up. “Go on, go to the infirmary. I’d walk you there myself if I thought you’d allow it.”

  “My lady, I have to finish—”

  “You’ve done more than enough. Anyway, I’ve been dressing myself for longer than you’ve probably been alive.”

  “That’s hardly correct. I’m only a few years younger than you,” Aditi said, snorting.

  Esha took a closer look at the girl and realized she was right.

  “I’ll blow the lamps out and put away my clothing neatly. I promise,” Esha said.

  “All right, my lady,” Aditi said, a glimmer of a smile on her face. “If you insist.”

  “I do.” Esha pushed Aditi toward the door.

  And she did, though it wasn’t just for Aditi.

  An idea had come to her. And she’d need the room to herself.

  Chapter 18

  Kunal had spent the last two hours training in the pal ace courtyard with Chand, who had agreed to form a partnership with him until the end of the Mela. They had gone over the proper forms for mace fighting, and Kunal was a sandy, dirty mess, but this was what he was good at, what he enjoyed. What’d he’d missed.

  And now, it was for the right reasons. It was up to him to
make sure his team had access to the citadel tonight—he almost relished the pressure. It was the fame that he could’ve done without. Now he had to cover his face when he went into the streets and fight off calls in the palace hallways. One weaver in the artisans’ sector had even woven his face into a blanket.

  Kunal shook his head as he walked to the washroom, determined to get at least one layer of grime off him before the end of the day—though at least the dirt was a good disguise. As he turned the corner, something familiar flashed in the distance. He stopped and turned around, quieting his footsteps.

  There. A movement against the open windows across the gardens. Kunal crept down the hallways of the palace, speeding up as he went.

  He found Esha in the darkness of the west wing, his sharpened eyesight the only thing keeping him from bumping into every wall and corner. She hovered close to the window in one of the alcoves that overlooked the courtyard, her hair blowing in the soft breeze, tendrils escaping her loose braid. She was in her training gear, but it was dyed black.

  In two strides he was at her side and took hold of her hand, tugging her to him. She spun into him, landing hard against his chest.

  “Going somewhere?”

  He took advantage of her moment of confusion to look at the setup around her. A long rope lashed against the side of the palace.

  “Tell me you’re not sneaking out.”

  “I’m not sneaking out,” she said immediately.

  “Esha . . .”

  “Kunal.”

  “Why are you sneaking out? When there are normal entrances?”

  “Don’t like them. Or the guards.”

  He made a hurt face and she waved her hand.

  “You’re all right,” she said with a grin. “Don’t worry about it, Kunal. I’m following a lead.”

  “That’s what you said at the archery tournament.”

  “I made a mistake; my disguise then wasn’t good enough.”

  “That may be, but what were you doing? And does Harun know?”

  Her face instantly shuttered.

  “No, and you’re not going to tell him.”

  A gust of wind flew through the open window, and Esha pressed up closer to him. The annoyed words he was about to speak died on his tongue. They were a hairbreadth away from each other, had been in this position a number of times recently, and yet tonight the moon was shining and there was a tendril of hair lashing her face.