Path of the Eclipse

by Chelsea Quinn Yarbro

  “The Rajah does not,” Dantinusha snapped. “The Rajah intends to keep as much of his court in sight as possible.” He rose suddenly and began to walk toward the windows. The sunlight gleamed on the brilliant green silk of his long jacket. “Someone,” he said in a steely undervoice, “someone has started a conspiracy against me. I thought we had done with that three years ago, but there are fools everywhere, and the thing has begun again. I will not have it. Understand me. I will not have it.” His voice had grown louder and he ended on a shout.

  Jaminya shot one frightened look at Rachura but could discover nothing in the Brahmin’s composed features. More than anything else, he wished he could leave the room. His hands, he realized, were trembling and he rolled the scroll he held and thrust it into his sash. He tried to speak, but could think of nothing to say.

  “This palace is filled with spies, riddled with them. It might as well be a marketplace of secrets. I have ordered that five of my slaves have their tongues cut out. It won’t end it, of course. Nothing will end it.” He was at the window now, and he pushed the shutters wider. “It was a warning, only a warning. If it is not successful, then there will be executions again, and I am so tired of them.”

  Rachura did not move from his place before the throne, but he spoke to Dantinusha deferentially. “Great Lord, you are too mild. If there are those who have chosen to move against you, then it is your obligation to cut them down. How else will chaos be kept out of the world?”

  Dantinusha was not listening. Something had caught his attention, and he leaned forward to have a better look. “The blind beggar with the slit nose—you know him? He sits in the marketplace and steals vegetables. He was lieutenant of the palace guard three years ago. He was not killed, not being one of my brothers or cousins. There are many like him. This evil is all-pervasive. Limbs may be struck off and tongues cut out and eyes burned away, but there is still rebellion.” Quite suddenly Dantinusha came away from the window. “I am sick at heart, but I will order deaths and maiming until I am certain that the throne is protected!”

  Guristar appeared in the doorway to the chamber. He was magnificently garbed today, in clothes of silk and fur. He abased himself and straightened up in one practiced movement. “Great Lord, your daughter desires the opportunity to speak with you.”

  “I left word that she was to stay in her quarters. You know how unsafe the times are,” Rajah Dantinusha said with asperity.

  “For that reason, she wishes to see you. She has begged me to tell you that her place, as your heir, is at your side.” The guard commander touched his long sword.

  “So that we may both be struck down?” Dantinusha demanded furiously. “Tell her that she is not to leave her quarters, not until I come personally to lead her away from there. This is not a minor threat, Guristar. You were the one who championed swift action, and I delayed. Now, you are courting danger, because of Tamasrajasi’s whim.” His face darkened and he glared around the room.

  “She said,” Guristar persisted, “that if you must fall, then she would rather have a clean death with you than suffer as she might have to later.”

  Dantinusha was quiet, his face grave. “They would not use her well, whoever they are.” He looked at the window. “She would not die quickly, it is true, but she would escape the debts I have earned in this life. A hot knife is quick, much quicker than rebels in the hall. Be sure that she has a knife.”

  “I will tell her,” Guristar said, and added, “She will not be content with that.”

  “Tell her also,” Dantinusha said as if he had not heard Guristar’s warning, “that the slaves who will not defend her will be taken and flayed alive, and left in the sun for carrion birds!”

  Jaminya had retreated even farther and he tried to shut out the Rajah’s words. How long would it be until suspicion fell on him and he was dragged to the execution ground? He reminded himself of the various scriptures which preached acceptance, but his spirit was not quieted. There was death in the air, as if an invisible corpse rotted in the center of the room. “Great Lord,” he said in a stifled tone, “I am not a brave man. I am a poet. If there is to be conflict here, let me go.”

  “Afraid, Jaminya?” Guristar asked, full of mockery.

  “Yes, I’m afraid,” Jaminya admitted, and felt no shame in this. “If I were trained for battle, I would want to comport myself as befits a soldier, but all I know is the making of verses.” He turned away from Guristar, back to Dantinusha. “I cannot aid you, Great Lord. If I remain here, I will not be an asset to you. Nothing will be gained by keeping me here.”

  Dantinusha sighed. “Leave, then. I would rather have men who can defend me standing with me now. You are not willing to, and there is no reason for you to stay.” He gestured dismissal to the poet and then appeared to forget the man was present.

  “We might send word to Ab-she-lam Eidan and request that he send what few troops he has brought with him to add to the guard here,” Rachura suggested.

  “And if the unrest comes from the men of the Sultan, what then?” Dantinusha asked. “We would make it easier for them to have the conquest they desire, but what would the advantage be? Can you tell me that it is impossible that the Sultan has ordered this disruption?”

  Guristar stared fiercely at Rachura. “I have not learned who is the enemy in this. However, only an idiot would appeal to the Sultan in this case. There are men he might send to protect the Rajah, and once the protection was provided, it might never be withdrawn.” He drew himself up with pride. “Our guard is not large, but I know that the men are loyal to this country and will defend it to their deaths.”

  “And while you prate here about their loyalty,” Dantinusha cut in, “who has come through the gates? If the men are true, give them the orders to stand to their weapons!”

  Guristar accepted this rebuke with poor grace. “I did not wish you to be uninformed of the guard’s work. I will not stay to talk more, since you have no wish to hear my words.” The Commander of the guard stepped back, turned on his heel and strode from the room.

  Rachura looked up at Dantinusha. “His ill-will may harm you, Rajah.” It was the only rebuke he delivered.

  “I had hoped that I had seen the last of rebellion and blood and execution,” the Rajah murmured, his hopes fading. On the far wall was a carving of Vishnu Trivikrama, his leg raised high in token of the Three Steps with which the god had strode over the sky, the earth and the lower world. Surely Vishnu would remember the sacrifices he had accepted in the past and would give his support to Rajah Dantinusha rather than let him fall to the men of Shams-ud-din Iletmish. The Rajah approached the carving and looked into the smiling, indifferent face of the young god.

  Then there was a commotion at the door and Dantinusha turned to see Rachura speaking to one of the eunuchs who guarded Tamasrajasi. The Brahmin gave Dantinusha a quick glance. “He has been sent to tell you that your daughter desires you receive her.”

  “Impossible,” Dantinusha said quickly. He had begun to feel the citric tang of danger in the air, not unlike heated metal. “She is not to come here. I have heard her concern for what may happen to her, and you must tell her that she is not alone in her fear. I will give orders that she is to be dispatched if there is any … difficulty.” Belatedly, he remembered his sister. “I will also give orders to send riders to Padmiri at once if there should be real trouble here.”

  The eunuch was still distressed and for that reason dared to speak to the Rajah. “Your daughter, Great Lord, is a child of great warriors, as you are and your father was. She said that she cannot sit idly by, waiting for the blow that will end her life. She begs that you will let her come to you, so that the household may see what faith you have in the strength of your line.” The eunuch’s moon face was waxy-colored and his body smelled faintly of fear under the perfume.

  “Tell her that if there is no overt attack by nightfall, I will send for her and we will dine together in the banqueting hall. That much I am willing to do, but more is
too dangerous.” He admired her bravery, but recognized that she could not know how much she courted disaster. “You may inform her that I take pride in her fearlessness.”

  “I will do that, Great Lord.” The eunuch abased himself, closing his eyes as he thought about the ire he would face when he returned to Tamasrajasi’s quarters. In desperation he added, “Would it be possible for a messenger to be appointed, one who would carry word between you and your daughter?”

  Dantinusha sighed, and though he was aware it would be most wise to refuse, he did not wish to treat his child so harshly. “If that will quiet her fears, then it shall be done. Tell her to choose one of her household to fulfill this office.” He did not wish to speak to the eunuch any longer. “Leave me.”

  Outside in the stableyard Guristar was shouting orders to the guard, doubling the armed men at the gates and insisting that no one was to be given permission to enter until he himself had approved. The Commander’s voice was high and harsh, and those hearing it were unwilling to question him. Occasionally the guardsmen would shout back answers as Guristar grew more insistent.

  Jaminya, who had withdrawn to the antechamber, now came back into the throne room and made formal abasement to Dantinusha. “You may set a guard at my door, but let me leave here.” Before, he had felt no embarrassment, but now there was a twinge of remorse in him. “I will ride to your sister with a guard, if that would be acceptable to you. She must be warned in any event. You have said as much. If I brought her the news, she would be less apprehensive than if it came from one of the guardsmen alone. You could stipulate that the guard was to stay with me at all times, or order that once I arrived at Padmiri’s house I be locked into the slaves’ quarters. Anything.”

  “You may ride with the messenger to Padmiri. That much I will allow. You will tell her how it was here when you left, and you will not return until you have heard from Guristar’s men that it is advisable to do so. There is a thing I must add,” Dantinusha went on, his voice hardening. “Once you leave my presence today, you will never again be admitted to it. Make your farewells now, poet, and depart from here.”

  “It isn’t necessary…” Jaminya started to protest, then bowed his head. “I will do as you will, Great Lord.”

  “Very wise,” the Rajah agreed, saying nothing more until Jaminya had retreated from the room.

  Rachura was not so foolish as to watch Jaminya go, but he did hesitate once the poet had gone. “It is true enough that such men are not useful in conflict,” he remarked.

  “True,” Dantinusha said quietly, “and had it come to that, I would have sent him away. What is most distressing is that he wished to go. For that alone he has forfeited my trust. The gods do not look with favor on those who will not bow to their fate.”

  “Perhaps it was his fate to run,” the Brahmin suggested. “He will go to your sister and she will be certain that he is protected. In time you may be pleased that he left. It is true that his death would not benefit you.”

  Dantinusha scowled. “Yet I wish that he had wished to stay. No doubt I am under the spell of Maya, and wish to see the world through her glamour.” His gestures had grown heavy, weary. “Whatever is coming, let it be quickly settled. I have no stomach for long battles. Let them come here and end it here.”

  “That may not be your privilege,” Rachura said quietly. “It is best to accept the turning of the Wheel, and make sacrifice to the gods. There is nothing else of merit.”

  One of Guristar’s lieutenants came to the door and abased himself. “Great Lord, it is my honor to stand guard at your door. My brothers in arms are stationed along the corridor so that none may pass without great harm, and so that should there be danger, you will be warned.” He was straight and young and his face shone with purpose.

  “Excellent,” the Rajah said, making no attempt to deny his fatigue. “I trust you will keep me informed of occurrences.”

  “Most certainly, Great Lord. Sudra Guristar, our Commander, has set up a chain of messengers so that none of us need leave our posts, and will nonetheless have all the news there is.” He took up his post outside the door, his shimtare held up at the ready, its slightly curved blade facing outward.

  To Dantinusha all these preparations seemed a travesty. What true enemy, he asked himself, would be discouraged by a few guardsmen in the hall, or an increase in the number of guards at the gate? Were he the one wishing to attack, this would not discourage him at all. Rather, he would take heart at the sight, for it would tell him that those in the palace were afraid. “That’s not so,” he said aloud. He was not afraid. There were others who were afraid for him, but he, himself, had left his terror behind.

  “What is not so, Great Lord?” the Brahmin Rachura asked deferentially.

  “Nothing, nothing.” He stood a moment, then took a restless turn about the room. How long would he have to live this way, frightened by shadows? It would be a relief to tell his guards to arm themselves and send orders to the stables to prepare the warhorses. But whom should he attack?

  One of the Tamasrajasi’s women stood in the door, her face averted in respect to the Rajah’s power. “My mistress,” the slave said when she knew that Dantinusha had seen her, “your daughter, asks that I bring her greetings to you.”

  “Yes,” Dantinusha answered, thinking that there were times his daughter was a difficult child. “You may tell her that you saw me well and impatient.”

  “I will do that,” the slave murmured, prostrated herself, then crawled from the Rajah’s presence.

  “What was that?” Dantinusha demanded of the air. “Slaves have not had to crawl in Natha Suryarathas since my grandfather’s time.”

  Rachura, too, had been puzzled, but he felt it was important that he comment on this. “It may be that since the slave abases herself to her mistress, that she felt she must do more to acknowldge your greater rank.”

  “It’s possible,” Dantinusha said, already putting the matter behind him. He took his place in the throne again, but could not make himself comfortable. The cushions were no longer soft, but seemed to have been filled with sharp stones. His clothes were tight, as if made for some other man. Dantinusha recalled the unspeakable days before his brothers and cousins had risen in revolt, and was possessed by the same inner sinking that he had known then. Time was moving far too slowly, he told himself. He was certain that hours had gone by, but the track of the sun through the room belied this. When he was ready to shout with exasperation, he rose again. “I wish to walk in the gardens. See that guards are sent to me. It’s stifling here.”

  The guard at the door stared. “I will have to give word to the messenger. Great Lord, your Commander of the guard would doubtless prefer it if you would remain here, in the throne room.”

  “Doubtless,” Dantinusha agreed. “But I wish to walk in the garden. Tell your messenger and let Guristar find a way to arrange this that will satisfy him.”

  With an unhappy glance at the Rajah, the guard made a signal, and a few moments later a boy with a military sash tied around his waist over his understeward’s clothes ran to him. The guardsman relayed the instructions, the boy bowed and hastened away, and then the room was still again.

  Some little time later another one of Tamasrajasi’s eunuchs came to the door. “Great Lord,” he said as he abased himself. “Your daughter has bade me come to you with her greetings.”

  “Yes, yes, many thanks to you and my daughter. Her concern is touching, most touching,” Dantinusha said brusquely.

  “She has asked me to give you a warning, for one of her slaves has said that she overheard two guardsmen speaking, and what they said was not to your good.” The eunuch had lowered his voice and once looked nervously over his shoulder. “Let me approach you, Great Lord, and tell you the words that my mistress has entrusted to me.”

  “You cannot simply say them aloud?” Dantinusha demanded.

  The eunuch grimaced miserably. “I can, if that is what you order me to do, but it is not wise that others s
hould hear. You are in the most grave danger, Great Lord, and not all those who fight beside you are your friends.”

  “How do you mean? Are there others involved?” He had thought all along that there must be some who had professed themselves his friends and were not. It was tempting to hear what the eunuch had to say. He did not want the slave to return to Tamasrajasi and tell her that her father had not wanted to hear her message. The child was anxious, he knew that, and wished to show him how much she valued him. “You say that one of her slaves overheard this. Where was the slave, that she should hear guardsmen?”

  “Near the courtyard east of the garden,” the eunuch said uncertainly. “My mistress had sent her to fetch blossoms.”

  “I see. And the guardsmen were there?” Reluctantly he admitted to himself that the information might be important.

  “They were posted at the gate between the courtyard and garden. They did not see Tamasrajasi’s slave until she was quite near them, and once she was in sight, they were silent.” He wrung his hands, staring beseechingly at the Rajah. “Let me approach you, Great Lord. How can I bear to see you in this peril and do nothing to aid you? Your daughter would surely slay me, or I would take my own life.”

  Dantinusha kept the irritation out of his voice. “Very well, since you are determined. You may approach me and tell me what the slave in the garden overheard.”

  The eunuch scrambled to his feet. “In this life and in all the lives to come, I am grateful to you, Great Lord,” he said as he neared the throne, then came up the steps, stopping less than an arm’s length from the Rajah. “The slave in the garden heard the guardsmen talking, and they said that your greatest enemy is within the palace itself, and has been plotting your downfall with the Commander of the guard. This enemy is ruthless and dedicated, Great Lord, and feels unending shame that this kingdom should be reduced as it has been by the predations of the Sultan at Delhi.”