“I was told there would be two,” he says.
“The other will be along shortly.” Priestess Mita tugs me out in front of her. “Kalinda, this is Captain Naik. Captain, this is Kalinda, the rajah’s intended.”
Captain Naik sums me up with a frown. I dry my tear-streaked cheeks with the back of my hand and wait for him to tell the priestess that we have met, but he sets off for another door.
Priestess Mita pulls me along after him, and I stumble to keep pace with her. We cross the chamber filled with gold-etched furniture. The rajah stayed here. Where is he?
The door opens to an exterior stairway that carries us to the front courtyard. Snow clouds hang low and heavy along the midsection of the mountain. Though it feels like a lifetime since skill trials this morning, it is hardly midday.
A line of horses waits with five more soldiers packing saddlebags laden with swords. I am struck by how quiet they are, and how big. One soldier, with arms thicker than my hips, hooks a team of white horses to the golden carriage. All of the soldiers wear saffron-colored knee-length tunic jackets, along with trousers loose around the thigh and gathered at the ankles, and securely wound turbans. The captain’s uniform varies slightly, with gold embroidery around the cuffs and a stand-up collar. Still not seeing the rajah or the general, I fidget with my skirt.
“Where is Rajah Tarek?” I ask.
The captain addresses me while fastening his saddlebag. “His Majesty has returned to Vanhi ahead of us to prepare for the rank tournament.”
My disappointment equals my relief. Rajah Tarek must have left immediately following the Claiming. Perhaps it is best that we travel separately. This way I have time to adjust to my twisted fate before I must face it.
Captain Naik continues. “The carriage and horse team are an engagement present for you. The rajah sends his apologies that he was not here when you received it.”
My mind clears of all except the captain’s words. The grand carriage and horse team are mine?
“Captain Naik.” The priestess raises her voice to be heard over the wind. “The second daughter may not immediately appreciate her calling. Natesa may need . . . additional supervision.”
The captain swaps a dry look with a fellow soldier. “We will keep an eye on her,” Captain Naik says as he mounts his horse. His sudden height startles me back a step. I stare up at him, recognition dawning. He is the lead rider, the man that I sketched. I lean slowly toward him, studying every facet of his face so that I can draw it later. He peers down at me with a peculiar look. “Do you wish to see inside your carriage?”
I straighten and drop my gaze. “I—I—”
Natesa and Healer Baka exit the temple behind us, bracing against the sweeping winds. Natesa goes straight to the carriage with her small bag and runs her fingers over the shiny door handle. “Is the carriage for me?”
“The carriage is a gift from the rajah to his intended,” says Captain Naik.
Natesa thrusts out her chin. “Oh, Kalinda won’t mind if—”
“Ask her if you may accompany her,” the captain says, “or you will ride to Vanhi on the top of the carriage.”
I do believe that Captain Naik means his threat. He strikes me as someone who does not go back on his word.
Natesa glares at me. “May I ride with you?”
Every time she has called me Bamboo Girl thunders in my ears, but I will not be high-handed to anyone, not even someone who deserves it. “Yes,” I say.
Natesa huffs and climbs inside. I turn into the wind to blow my hair out of my face. Healer Baka comes over and hands me a satchel weighed down with tonic vials, charcoal sticks, my sketchbooks, a slingshot, and firing stones.
My eyes blur with tears. “Thank you.”
Healer Baka draws me into her arms and speaks into my ear. “Have a care who you tell about your fevers. Not everyone will understand. The tonic formula is inside your bag. Hide it and take your daily dosage in private.”
Her sudden urge to be secretive confuses me. I am prone to fevers. What is there to understand? And even if I do not tell anyone, Natesa could wag her tongue. I want Healer Baka to clarify, but she silences me with a significant look and holds me tighter. “You can win the tournament, Kali. I know you can.”
“I will try.” My throat runs dry on the breath of my hopeless promise. I cannot win. Entering the arena will be a death sentence. But I want her and Jaya to know that I did my best.
A blast of wind nearly swipes us sideways. Healer Baka releases me and returns to the shelter of the entry. Captain Naik rides his horse to the back of the party and relays instructions to his men. The soldiers squint at the moody skies, impatient to get ahead of the snowfall.
The priestess does not reach out to me as Healer Baka did. “I know we have not always agreed,” she says, “but I am honored to have had you as my daughter. Be safe on your journey, and keep your distance from the men. You belong to the rajah now. Any disloyalty to your future husband will merit the gods’ punishment.” Priestess Mita brushes away the henna flaking off my nose, where she marked me as a betrothed woman. “Remember your duty, and represent Samiya well.”
“I will,” I promise.
The captain calls to his men. “Mount up!”
I join Natesa in the carriage. She is seated on the far side, against the second window, leaving me the seat nearest the door. The procession sets off down the hillside. My eyes stream tears. Priestess Mita and Healer Baka quickly drop out of sight, and soon only the temple’s familiar stone towers are visible. Lamplight emblazons the observatory in the north tower. I hold on to that beacon until distance swallows it up and my home vanishes.
“Finally.” Natesa spreads out her lap blanket. “I’ve been waiting to escape that prison since I arrived.”
I glance at her sharply. After Natesa’s parents died, she was fortunate to be taken in by the Sisterhood. I want to slap her mouth for her ingratitude, but I will save my reprimand for later. We have to endure these close quarters for a fortnight, down the Alpana Mountains and across the Bhavya Desert.
In those fourteen days, Natesa will say or do something more offensive. That is a guarantee.
6
Darkness descends hours later. Our guards erect a tent and start a campfire in a nook near the canyon wall. Natesa and I are not invited to join them. We will spend our night as we did our day, inside the carriage.
One of the soldiers, a boy younger than I am, with bowed head and nervous hands, brings us stones warmed in the campfire to tuck beneath our blankets. Along with the stones, the boy soldier delivers a meal of charred flatbread and spiced nuts.
“Where is the silk tent?” Natesa whines after he leaves. “Down cots? Rich foods and doting servants?”
I pop a cashew into my mouth. Why does she expect opulence? We are in the wilds. Considering the soldiers’ rustic sleeping arrangements, I am thankful for our privacy and comfort. My single grievance so far is the size of the carriage. I have nowhere to escape from Natesa’s grumbling. Thank the gods for crunchy food.
“I don’t see how we are expected to be confined in this . . .”
Chew. Chew. Chew.
“The blanket is hardly big enough to cover my . . .”
Crunch. Crunch. Crunch.
“They didn’t offer us hot water to wash.”
I reach for more nuts, but I have eaten all of them. I scrunch the paper funnel in my fist with a sigh. That is the end of my peace.
Natesa glares. “You ate them all?”
I send her a long look. I am not dense. She does not seek a sympathetic ear from me. She simply does not know what to do with herself if she is not complaining.
A rap comes at the door, and the boy guard comes inside. “Captain Naik wants the lamps extinguished.”
“Your captain cannot order us about. We are his betters.” Natesa states each word with venom.
Past the soldier, I see guards kicking snow onto the campfire, dousing the flames. More snow drifts down from the night sky in thick, feathery flakes.
“How will you sleep in the cold?” I ask.
The young soldier smiles shyly. “We have warmed stones for our beds too, Viraji.”
My heart jolts at the endearment. Viraji. Intended queen.
“You cannot expect us to sleep in the dark,” Natesa says, voicing her infantile fears. She turns up her nose. “We have no reason to trust our entourage will not defile us.”
I would be lying if I said that thought had not crossed my mind. I am uncertain what to make of these men. Their great strides eat up the land, and they grow dark hair on their faces. They are organized, well trained, and strangely subdued. They are our protectors, but it is too early to tell if they can be trusted.
“Guards are forbidden to touch any woman of the rajah’s court,” the boy guard says, “by pain of death.” His grave frown ages him many years.
I do believe that the rajah has honored this threat, and the boy has witnessed the punishment. “How long have you been in the army?” I say. “What is your name?”
“Manas.” He puffs out his chest. “I have been a soldier for two years. After I lost my family, the rajah took me in as his boot-shine boy. I joined the army on my fourteenth birthday.”
“Fascinating,” Natesa drawls.
Manas ducks his head, blushing. “I will leave you to your rest.”
He goes, and Natesa shrills at the door, “How can they expect us to sleep without a light? Captain Naik is—”
“Our guide to Vanhi. Be civil to him, if you know how.” I blow out the oil lamp and pull up my blanket.
Natesa settles down on the bench across from mine, punctuating her movements with angry huffs. I do not fear the night. When I close my eyes, tiny lights glow behind my eyelids. Jaya says that they are residual daylight, but I think of them as inner guiding stars.
The soldiers quiet outside, and, soon, only the wind knocks at our door. Under night’s velvet cloak, I ache to be home. I want my cot, my bedchamber, and Jaya. I cannot relax without her steady breathing lulling me to sleep. I miss her fingers running through my hair and the echo squeeze of her hand. I wonder if she regrets saying that she will wait for me.