Sword of the Deceiver (27 page)

The Palace of the Pearl Throne seemed to grow out of the mountainside and Radana clasped her hands together when she saw its gleaming stone walls and intricate carvings, the richness of the guards’ uniforms, the splendor of the gardens. There was more wealth and power here than in the whole of Sindhu. The king was mad, truly, utterly, completely mad, to even wish to stand against all this.

The two guards that had come with them from the outer walls led them down the broadest of the white paths through the paradisiacal gardens and around to the left side of the inner walls. There arched a gate of carved teak, and on the other side, as Madhu had assured her, waited the Audience Court.

Although it had been a day of strange and awesome sights, this was what made Radana stare slack-jawed.

The Audience Court was a broad stone expanse, open to the sun, and filled to the brim with people. People milled about aimlessly. They talked and argued and bargained with all the force and fervor of merchants in the market. Some carried wooden trays or buckets and shouted out that they had water and food for sale. Every caste and kind was there, from beggars hunching in the center of the court where there was no chance of shadow from the walls reaching them, to noblemen in silks with servants to hold fringed umbrellas over them.

While she stared, the arched doorway to the palace opened, just a crack. The crowd roared and surged forward up the steps. The soldiers were ready for this and leveled their spears, shoving the shouting mob back and away from the man in the long, green robe who emerged. Perhaps he spoke, but over the voice of the crowd, Radana could hear nothing. A single man scurried up the steps and made the salute of trust to the green-robed man, and fell into step behind him. The doors closed, and the crowd fell back, each person who remained cursing in disappointment and trying to reclaim his or her little space on the stones to wait again.

Radana saw at once how it was. Probably you could bribe someone, if you knew the right palm to cross, but if you had no gold left, you could wait a hundred years and be no closer to that door.

Radana’s shoulders slumped. All the strength that anger and righteousness had lent her fell away in a single instant. For the first time since she left King Kiet’s chamber, tears threatened.

Her guide missed none of this.

“Now then, now then, pretty lady,” Madhu chided. He ran his hand around her jaw so close that she could feel his heat, although he did not actually touch her. “Do you think I brought you here to abandon you to this mob? You must have patience, pretty lady. You must have faith.”

His grin was sly and she had to resist curling in on herself against the heat of his gaze. She had been prepared for this too. If it was her body that would gain her entrance she would bargain with that too, but not until she was left with no other choice. That kind of use showed quickly on a woman, and Radana knew she must be seen as gold, not dross.

Radana lifted her head. “What can you do?” she asked sharply. “I have nothing left.”

“What can I do?” Madhu pulled back, striking a gallant pose. “I am, after all, a sorcerer. You will see what I can do.”

The bearers were getting impatient, eyeing one another, wondering when they might break in on this little conversation. Radana had only their fee left to her, and if they demanded more for having to wait …

“Very well.”

She rose from the palanquin. The petitioners at the gate had watched her entrance with some interest. But as she was delayed, they turned back to their own conversations and schemes. Madhu paid off the bearers, who made their salutes to him, picked up their palanquin, and left without a backward glance. Now only Madhu was with her.

“What will you do?”

Madhu just grinned and tapped his long nose. “My pretty lady must be patient just a little while longer. Just a little and she will see what I can do. Have faith, pretty lady. Remember, I have got you this far.”

With that, he slipped out of the gate and strode, grinning, down the white road, until he vanished behind the curve of the palace wall. Radana opened her mouth to call out, but she did not dare follow him. The sun was almost to its zenith and there were quarrels breaking out over the space in the shortening shadows. From the pitch of the voices, she could tell there would soon be open fights, and possibly betting on them. Some of the men had the right sort of gleam in their eyes to be interested in such a game.

Alone on the edge of a crowd of strangers, Radana wrapped her arms around herself and tried to calm herself enough to wait.

Hamsa was loitering on the broad, curving stairs as Madhu hurried up, brushing fussily at the dust on his new coat sleeves. She took him in carefully, the new clothes, the intense air, and the small smile beneath his beard. He believed what he was doing was important, and that the reward would be great.

Hamsa stepped from the alcove into the sorcerer’s path. “
Agnidh
Madhu,” she said, making a respectful salute.

Madhu stared for a moment before making the full salute of trust. Whatever her reputation, Hamsa was bound sorcerer to the first prince and at least a show of respect was required. “Greetings,
Agnidh
Hamsa. Forgive me. My errand is urgent and I cannot delay.”

But Hamsa did not move. “What errand might that be?”

“It is for
Agnidh
Yamuna. You know well I cannot be late for such an important meeting.” He looked up expectantly at her, and still Hamsa did not move.

Since Yamuna’s threat and Natharie’s adventure, Hamsa had begun to watch the traffic to Yamuna’s rooms. If Yamuna knew she did this, he had said nothing. He seemed satisfied that she had not directly warned Samudra off his present course. Nor would she, but perhaps, just perhaps, there was something else she could do. Some straw or pebble she could shift to change the course of the dance Yamuna had set.

“What fine new clothes you are wearing.” Hamsu gestured at Madhu’s coat, trousers, and slippers. “Your errand has been most successful already.” The runner who had told her Madhu was on his way up from the lower ring said he was barely even recognizable.

Madhu could not keep the grin from his face. “I will give much thanks to the Mother of Increase after I have made my report.”

“Where was she from, your errand?” Hamsa asked slyly. Madhu was so famous for his love of women that even Hamsa had heard of it. “Perhaps I can find myself one.”

With that, Madhu put aside all pretense of respect. “Ha! You would have to open your eyes for that, Hamsa!” She shared his chuckle, although the gibe dug near her heart, but what he said next made the pain vanish in an instant. “She was from Sindhu, if you must know, and now I must go tell this to the lord Yamuna.”

Sindhu!
Shock almost robbed Hamsa of her ability to playact. “Forgive me, Madhu.” She stepped aside, saluting once more. “May your errand continue to be profitable.”

He sketched a salute to her and all but ran down the corridor toward the winding stairs. Hamsa stared after him, twisting her staff in her hands.

Why is it Yamuna should wish to know about a woman of Sindhu arriving in the city?
She gripped her staff.
Queen Bandhura, yes, the viceroys and the prince, yes, but Yamuna? What is happening here?
And fast on the heels of this came the thought
Will anyone tell the prince?

She did not waste another breath, but ran up the steps. The guards of the small domain knew her on sight and opened the ebon doors without issuing a challenge. Samudra was not in his rooms, nor was he with his mother, which left one last place to look.

She hurried to the viewing chambers and the garden terrace. She saw Natharie’s Ekkadi sitting beneath the arch, busy repairing some bangle with tiny pliers. The maid was straining her ears to hear what her mistress might be saying, and trying hard not to show it. Ekkadi glanced up, ready to tell whoever approached to stay away, but when she saw who it was, she lowered her head. Hamsa knew she did not imagine the disappointment in the maid’s eyes.

The late-afternoon sunlight streamed through the ivory lattice. The scent of citrus and greenery enveloped her. Before her, Princess Natharie sat on her favorite stone bench, and looked up at Samudra, who stood before her. Hamsa stopped dead, for here she saw plainly what she had only guessed at before.

Neither of them had so much as flinched at her approach, so intent they were on each other. Not even Samudra, with his soldier’s instincts, noticed she was there. It was as if each sought to memorize and comprehend every detail of the other. She felt the air thrumming with their tension, their hope at such a fever pitch it was almost desperation. Hope that trust was not misplaced, hope that the heart did not lie, hope that love was not wrong.

She knew that Samudra bore a growing love for Natharie, but Hamsa was so bound up in her fears of Yamuna and her own weakness, she had not seen how strong that love had grown, nor had she seen how well it was answered.

And she felt her own heart break at the sight of even such tenuous freedom to love whom one would. In that instant, she understood how Yamuna could wish that his bound life might end so he could walk away, free forever. Loathing filled her at the notion, as one might feel loathing at the thought of eating rotted meat, but understanding remained. Could she take a lover? Yes, she was allowed. In fact, she could have as many as she pleased, if it did not interfere with her duties. She could even marry, but what husband would have her when she was not free to serve his house? She must follow Samudra in war and in peace. He was her first charge, and the only one to which she could be true, until the day one of them died.

Her eyes prickled and she had to close them to keep tears from spilling out.
No. No. I do not wish this. I will not wish it. This is the life I must live, and I will not betray. I will not do what Yamuna has done. I will not make myself as he is. If that is weakness, so be it
.

She moved forward, deliberately scraping her sandals against the floor tiles. The sound broke the moment between Samudra and Natharie, and they both saw her.

Samudra rubbed the back of his neck, a gesture he made when he was feeling particularly impatient. “What is it, Hamsa?”

Mindful of the listening Ekkadi, not to mention the whole of the small domain at her back, Hamsa stepped up close to him, to them.

“My prince. I have had word that a woman of Sindhu has arrived in the Audience Court.”

She expected Princess Natharie to gasp, but the woman only sat back, her eyes wide. “Who is it?” she asked hoarsely.

Hamsa shook her head. “I do not know.”

Natharie turned to Samudra, the pleading question plain in her eyes. Samudra remained silent for a long moment. Hamsa could see he was considering what few options he would have in such a situation. She wondered what Natharie saw.

“I’m sorry,” Samudra said at last. “She will not be permitted to enter here.”

Slowly, Natharie’s fingers curled inward, making claws to rake against the silk of her skirt. “Why not? Builders and their sons come here, why not this woman from my home? Let your priests do whatever they will to purify her, but surely …”

“I cannot bring a stranger into the small domain without the emperor’s permission.” Samudra spoke softly, pleading with her to understand. Hamsa felt the skin on the back of her neck prickle and she glanced behind her. Ekkadi was staring at them, her bangle forgotten in her hands. The maid met the sorceress’s eyes for a single heartbeat, and quickly picked up her work again.

“Please, Samudra,” Natharie murmured. “She is from my home.”

“I cannot ask that now.”

Her clawed fingers knotted into her skirt. “Cannot or will not?”

Samudra flinched, something Hamsa had rarely seen him do before. “Cannot, Natharie. I ask you to believe this.” He moved close again, a lover’s stance. Did he know how easy it was to see this? As soon as she asked herself that question, Hamsa knew he did not care. “You know what is happening around us right now. I cannot add a suspicious action, even one this small.”

They watched each other, each reading the other’s silence. Hamsa had never felt so separate from Samudra or so angry at her own clumsiness with skill and word.

Natharie was the one who broke the silence. “I understand,” she said.

“Do you accept it?” asked Samudra. Hamsa blinked and bowed her head, for she had heard the question differently. For a moment, she thought she heard, “Do you accept me?”

This time it was Natharie who shook her head. “No, Great Prince, I do not.”

It was another blow and this one close to his heart. Samudra bore it like the soldier he was and replied with the salute of trust. “I thank you for your honesty. I will find a way to bring her to you as soon as I can, Natharie, I swear. Be but a little patient.”

Natharie made no answer, and Samudra’s shoulders slumped. He walked away without a word or backward glance. Hamsa did look back, and she saw Natharie sitting with her head bowed. Ekkadi picked herself up and hurried to her mistress. She whispered urgently in Natharie’s ear, but Natharie did not move at all. There was nothing in her attitude, though, that spoke of repose or resignation. The princess of Sindhu hid her face so that her thoughts would not show.

She will not be patient. She will not wait a breath longer than she must. Will Samudra let himself realize this?

Samudra did not speak to Hamsa until they reached his rooms and he had dismissed his servants with a scowl. Then, he faced her and his expression was thunderous.

“How could you come to me with this news in front of Natharie?” he demanded. “What were you thinking?”

You do not want to know what I was thinking. Not all of it
. She kept this to herself. “I wanted to see how she would respond.” This was at least part of the truth.

“Why?”

Hamsa planted her staff firmly, as if it would help anchor her nerve. “Because I find it strange that this woman should appear now, and I do not understand why Yamuna should want to know that a woman from Sindhu was here.”

“Yamuna? What business is it of Yamuna’s who comes to the Audience Court?”