by Andrea Ring
“I think you’re right, Manoj,” I say. “Someone too similar is not a good fit, and yet someone with nothing in common is also a problem. You need similarities and differences.”
“You’re right,” he says with a firm nod.
“So who was this girl?”
“We grew up together,” he says. “I think I’ve always loved her, but she wasn’t the loving type. She couldn’t slow down long enough to focus like that. She’s always going, always going, always doing.”
“That sort of sounds like you,” I say. Faaris and Kai laugh.
“She loves animals. Rabbits, chickens, goats, horses…even a skunk once. The look on Chief Barun’s face! Do you remember it, guys?”
“We were what?” Faaris asks. “Thirteen? Fourteen?”
Manoj nods. “She brought the skunk right into their rooms and nursed its broken leg. I think her father slept in the barracks for the week it was there.”
“What broke you two up?”
“She wanted to get married,” he says. “But as I told you, I wanted to wait until this cycle or next. She refused to wait.”
“Wow,” I say. “Was it worth it? Losing her?”
He shrugs. “She didn’t understand me. Even though I loved her, there was so much about me she wanted to change. You cannot force a person to change their basic nature. You take it or leave it.”
“And since she left it,” Faaris says, “she can go soak her head in the river. Why can’t women just be content with us, flaws and all?”
I shake my head. “I guess a lot of women feel that they have the luxury of being picky and giving ultimatums, and I don’t understand that. Of course, you should have standards, and you shouldn’t settle for something that would hurt you or make you unhappy, but most women in our kingdom have absolutely no say in their choice of husband. Families choose for them. The nobles of Indrapur need to get out more.”
“We could change that,” Kai says. “We could eliminate arranged marriages and make them illegal.”
“Some women are comforted by them,” I say. “Some look forward to knowing that their families have chosen an auspicious match. I don’t think making them illegal would help. But maybe making it illegal to force a person to marry against their will?”
“That’s already changing,” Manoj says. “At least in Indrapur.”
“Indrapur is but a small part of the world,” I say. “A very small part.”
“Maybe I should have my parents arrange a marriage for me,” Faaris says. “Then if it turns out horrible, I can blame them.”
“Maybe you should just look for a good, caring woman,” Kai says. “Ignore your…romantic side, and focus on the practical.”
“I’m just gonna stop looking,” he says. “When the gods are ready for me to be married, my wife will appear. That could happen, couldn’t it?”
“It happened that way for me and Kai,” I say.
“Do you think you would have met anyway?” Faaris asks. “Had the gods not intervened?”
I look at Kai. “Absolutely,” he says. “We are bigger than the will of the gods. I believe we are destined to be together.”
I smile at him and take his hand.
Kai and I are a strong match. I love him, and I believe he loves me. But would we really be together if Shiva hadn’t interfered?
We wouldn’t. It’s that simple.
I say nothing.
XXX. SAPHALA
I cannot approach the prince directly, at least not without knowing where Nili is. I need a line to the prince, but the two straightest ones, Manoj and Faaris, I cannot use. Who else is the prince close to? No one, as far as I have been able to observe.
But there is one person I have not observed who is close to him.
The king.
The king is ill. It is all the servants can talk about. One of them spied him vomiting outside the door to his bed chamber, another witnessed a fall. I wonder if the king is even lucid at this point.
It is time to do what I do.
I approach the royal wing and am immediately stopped by guards.
“My lady, do you have an appointment?”
“No,” I say, “but the king has requested a healer. I have some skill that may benefit him.”
“What is your name?”
“Saphala Parsa,” I say with a bow. “I am Lady Nilaruna’s childhood friend. Please, if you could just tell him that I’m willing to help, I’m sure he’ll see me.”
“The king has a healer,” the shorter guard says. “Have you spoken with him?”
“No, but I would be honored to. Perhaps he can vouch for my skills.”
They send a servant off to find Healer Wadee, and it’s not but a few minutes before they return.
“You mentioned nothing of this when I examined you,” Wadee says straight off. “What is the meaning of this?”
I bow. “I knew not that the king was sick at that time, my lord. And Faaris insisted that I see you. I never claimed to need your services.”
He presses his lips together.
“Come. Into my rooms. We will discuss it.”
I follow Wadee down the hall and into his chambers. His room is surprising cluttered and dusty, but I don’t comment. He closes the door and turns to me.
“What exactly are you able to do?”
“Magic.”
“I gathered as much,” he says. “Specifically.”
“I am able to lay my hands on someone and detect an illness. From there, I can usually heal whatever’s wrong.”
“How many people have you healed?”
“Just a few,” I admit. “It is not a skill I have been able to openly exercise, as you can imagine.”
“Can you heal yourself? I can cut you, and you can heal the wound to demonstrate.”
“I cannot,” I say, “but you can cut yourself.”
He takes a rusty knife from the top of a desk and pricks his finger.
I take his hand in mine and close my eyes. I let go of the tightly packed energy humming through my body, and it swirls around his finger. The wound closes neatly.
“Acceptable,” he says, “but not particularly impressive. The king has something wrong in his brain. It requires more than a simple fix.”
“I believe I can help,” I say.
He considers me. “And what do you want in return?”
“That is between me and the king.”
“So be it. But know that if you hurt him, or if you make him worse, I will see you executed.”
I bow. “I would expect nothing less.”
XXXI. THE KING
I slept most of the day away, but my body no longer recovers. I down my evening brew from Wadee and try to clear my head enough to write some notes.
On my desk I find a message from Tanaya, telling Pragun that she needs a moon with the dragons. Bah. I’m too weary to argue, and I have not the power to hurry her. She’ll finish when she finishes. Perhaps after the wedding I can send someone to push on her.
Wadee comes in then without invitation, a beautiful young girl trailing him. I’m embarrassed to be caught barefoot in my robe.
“And who is this?” I say, standing and trying to straighten my nightclothes. Dear gods, I must look a mess.
The girl bows low.
“Her name is Saphala Parsa, Nilaruna’s childhood friend who was rescued recently,” Wadee says. “You remember the tale?”
I raise an eyebrow. “Indeed. Welcome, Saphala. We were heartened to hear that you arrived safe and sound. To what do I owe this visit?”
“She is a healer, King Jagir,” Wadee says, emphasizing healer.
“Indeed.”
“I offer my services, my king,” she says.
“I will leave you,” Wadee says. “Two guards are right outside the door. Twenty more are in this wing. I will be waiting outside if you need me.” Without my leave, he exits, closing the door firmly behind him.
“Just so we’re clear,” I say, “you really are a healer, righ
t? And not a prostitute?”
“My lord!” she says. “Never!”
I chuckle. “Just checking. So you are a magic user.”
“Not much,” she says, “but since Nilaruna was using her gifts, and since I heard you were ill…it seems a waste not to use mine.”
I wave her to a seat and sit opposite her. “I heard you were getting along with Faaris. Smitten, I heard he is.”
She smiles, and then shakes her head. “It didn’t work out, my lord. He didn’t appreciate me for much more than my pretty face.”
“Your uncle is Lord Parsa of Bhutan. Is that correct?”
“Yes, my lord.”
“He has been a supporter of mine and of Kai’s, especially during this difficult time with the marriage. That works in your favor.”
“My lord?”
“What do you want, Saphala? You did not come here out of the kindness of your heart.”
The girl stares at me. Obviously, the wheels are turning in her head.
She inclines her head. “I wish to be the princess.”
“Impossible,” I say. I suspected her request, but I am a bit surprised she has the audacity to ask for it so boldly.
“I am an untouchable,” she says. “A fisherman’s daughter, my blood filled with nothing but fish guts. I can fulfill your purpose as well as Nilaruna can.”
“Give me names, and perhaps we can negotiate.”
“I know of only one. Aaliyah of Bhutan. Her contact in the palace is a seamstress in your employ.”
I sit back and put my knuckles to my lips. “I already have this information.”
“Aaliyah cares not for the throne. She wants no throne at all. She seeks to have the kingdom ruled by the people.”
“Interesting.”
“You will die.”
“I’m dying anyway,” I say.
“Not when I’m done with you.”
“Heal me, and you will be rewarded,” I say. “That is all I can offer. I cannot make you princess while Nilaruna lives. Plans are in place.”
She narrows her eyes at me. “You are implying that Nili will die.”
“I never said that.”
“You didn’t have to.”
I stand up and move to the window. “It is not my wish, but the gods have seen the future. My son will need a wife. I just cannot promise you when.”
“They have seen her death but haven’t given you a time?”
I nod.
“That is acceptable,” she says. “I will heal you.”
I go back to my chair and sit down heavily. “She is your friend. She helped rescue you and brought you to the palace. Have you no loyalty? No decency?”
Saphala looks away. “I have no ill will toward Nilaruna, but we are very different people. I’ve learned, my lord, that people are only out for themselves. So no, I have no loyalty left to anyone, except myself and the kingdom.”
“How should we do this?” I ask her. “Do I need to lie down?”
“You are fine where you are,” she says. She scoots her chair up close to mine. “I must touch your head, my king.”
I chuckle. “That sounds like foreplay.”
She smiles. “We can try that when I’m finished.”
XXXII. AALIYAH
In the afternoon, we stop to stretch our legs. I have a horrible sense of direction and distance, but according to our timetable, we should be nearing the pass.
“Do you think the Protector is gone, then?” I ask when Manu returns from relieving himself. “I know you said he’d give us no trouble, but I wonder. Does that mean you’ve met him?”
“He gave me leave to hunt and to maintain the trails,” he says with a nod. “As to whether or not he’s still here, my guess would be no. If you’d been stuck in a territory for hundreds of cycles and suddenly you became a god, wouldn’t you leave?”
“Not necessarily,” I say. “Most of us are creatures of habit. Any ties he had or people he knew in his previous life are long gone. Where else would he go?”
“Where do the gods go? Where do they live? Your guess is as good as mine.”
“They do like to meddle with mortals,” I say, “so perhaps you’re right. There aren’t many mortals in the Fangs to meddle with.”
“Do you think most of the kingdom knows he’s a god now? Is it common knowledge in the cities?”
“Oh, yes. The news spread almost as fast as that of the prince’s wedding.”
Manu cocks his head. “How did people even know?”
“How did you know?” I counter.
“There are others in the Fangs. I am not the only one. One of them heard from the Protector himself.”
I nod. “That’s how news travels, doesn’t it? And this is the second most momentous bit of news heard in centuries.”
“Only the second?” Manu says.
“The wedding, Manu.” He looks at me blankly. “An untouchable on the throne! Most of us will not believe it until we see it.”
“That is why you’re attending the wedding?” he asks.
I nod. “It doesn’t make any sense. By all accounts, the prince is handsome and traditional. We’ve had no signs that his reign will be any different than his father’s. A cycle ago, every noble woman of age in the kingdom was preparing for her visit to Indrapur. Then the gods intervene, the king closes the ports, and just moons before Prince Kai must abdicate his claim to the throne, he suddenly comes up with a bride…and she’s an untouchable! There are hundreds of noble girls on the right side of the Fangs who could have become his bride. But he chooses an untouchable? I’ll eat my foot if the prince had ever even met an untouchable before this.”
Manu shakes his head. “So you think this Nilaruna is a fraud. Do you think she’s not really an untouchable?”
“Oh, she’s an untouchable,” I say. “My sources swear it. Did you know she was the last Go-Between?”
Manu turns away from me. He mumbles something, but I cannot hear it.
Then he lifts me onto my horse, jumps onto his, and insists we press on.
XXXIII. MAJA
The weather is holding, so we continue on through the pass and a league further.
Aaliyah’s been nervous this entire time, as the sky has darkened and she cannot see. But I can, so I assure her that shelter is up ahead, and since more snow is coming, we’ll be better off in a shack than in a tent.
I light a torch and help Aaliyah off her horse. The shack itself is exactly as I last left it, at least from the outside. But when we enter, it’s obvious someone else has been here recently.
Aaliyah crosses the small space to two altars set up beneath the single window.
“You wondered if everyone knew about the Protector,” she says. “Seems those wandering through the Fangs know, just as you said.”
I squat beside her. The altar on the left honors no god I’ve ever seen. There is a miniature mountain fashioned out of clay, and on top, a statue of a man with the head of the dragon.
“What makes you think this honors the Protector?” I ask her.
She raises an eyebrow at me. “A mountain. A dragon-headed man on top. You knew the Protector took the form of a dragon, didn’t you?”
“I guess you’re right,” I say. “Creative. What about this one?”
Someone has set a golden statue of a lily on a bed of moss and surrounded it with dried rose petals. The name Lili is written in dried berry juice on a strip of bark placed at the base of the statue.
“Lili,” Aaliyah whispers. “Shiva’s mistress. But she’s just a mortal. Or maybe someone knows something we don’t.”
“You know a great deal about the gods,” I say, standing. “How is that?”
Aaliyah looks at me. “What would you say my business is?”
“You run a brothel,” I say.
“I do, but what do I deal in?”
I clear my throat. “Pleasure?”
“Outwardly,” she says, “perhaps. But my real business is information. Knowledge. I trade in
secrets. There is not much that goes on in the kingdom that I don’t know about.”
“So you offer up the promise of pleasure, and when a man’s at his weakest, you siphon his secrets. And you’re content with that?”
Aaliyah laughs. “I’m wealthy because of that. Judge all you like, but there are very few men in Bhutan, who have ever even traveled to Bhutan, who have not sought my services. They wish to play, then they must pay. Nothing is free, Manu.”
“They pay you in coin,” I say. “To also take their secrets is a violation, and is even theft.”
“I don’t hold a knife to their throats,” she says. “And many have held a knife to mine. They think that because I am a woman, because they are physically stronger than I am, they can take from me and face no consequences. I have learned to protect myself and my girls with only that information. You said you dislike violence, and I use none. Why are my methods so morally reprehensible to you?”
I sigh. “I’ve known women. I enjoy their company. I am no more immune than any man, and yet, I have not sought services such as you provide. And I am not judging. It is just not something I understand.”
“When you are thirsty,” she says, “do you deny yourself water?”
“No, but love…love is different.”
Aaliyah looks away from me. “If love is what you desire, you are right. My services would be of no use to you.”
“You are thirsty,” I say to her. “Why do you deny yourself water?”
She turns back to me, and the torchlight catches the shimmer of a tear gliding down her cheek. “I’ve been without water so long, I no longer recognize my own thirst.”
I move close to her and brush the tear away with my thumb. “I understand. The only difference between us is that I believe a glorious stream is right up ahead. I have but to find it. You, you think you’re in the desert.”
Aaliyah shivers under my touch. “Love is an illusion,” she whispers. “A trap. As long as my heart is free, so am I.”
“You are free,” I say. “And alone.”
For a brief moment, she leans her cheek into my hand. Then she steps back. “We should unload the horses. It’s late.” And she turns and exits the shack.