Yesterday, though, they had a breakthrough. They had discovered this wall of sculptures in an immense cave in themiddle level. Fourteen-foot-high bas-reliefs ran for almost a mile covering the whole segment of the curved wall.
These were by far the most intricate and most preserved carvings in the caves they had explored so far.
Excitement had run high all day, and they had gone over each section of the carvings, exhausting themselves poring over every known story, legend, and half-confirmed fact in the lore of Amaravathi for the fortieth time with the hopes of finding a nugget of information that would show them a way.
By evening, their hopes slipped away like a thief in the dark. It appeared that the bas-reliefs were exactly what they seemed to be: a collection of religious teachings and mythological stories from King Amarendra’s time.
As Chandra and Shota neared the central portion of the bas-reliefs, they found Billadev regaling a group of men. He was posturing in front of a giant statue of Amarendra battling an eight-armed sea monster. Chandra’s eyebrows rose, hearing the tall tale he was spinning, as he imitated the ancient king’s stance in the carvings.
“And so, King Billadev rides on undefeated,” intoned Billadev in a deep voice, his arm held out as if clutching an imaginary sword. “Hearing just the neigh of his horse, enemies flee before him.”
He spotted them beyond the crowd of men seated in a semicircle, who were laughing openly at his antics. “Ho, men. What do you think, do I look majestic like him? King Billadev the Great has a nice ring to it, don’t you think?”
“Billadev the Moron, suits you better,” came Veer’s voice over her shoulder. The men scattered, murmuring about cleaning up after the breakfast.
Chandra jumped. Where did he come from? His dark gaze slid to her, and she looked away quickly. The man unnerved her.
Usually, she preferred to avoid him, keeping their interactions to the bare minimum. Though it was next to impossible to ignore him completely. He had a presence that sucked in the surrounding air, drawing everyone’s eyes.
Unless he wished otherwise. Then he was quite capable of concealing himself. Chandra found the combination of qualities maddening. It meant she could never be sure of his presence. In fact, she’d been getting more paranoid, imagining him being there at her practice.
She mostly interacted with Shota, a tall, thin man far too serious for his age. He had taken on the difficult and onerous task of piecing together a new map of the caves. He needed her help interpreting the older maps that Amaravathi had provided, since they were written inBrahmi.
Chandra had been impressed that Shota had a rudimentary knowledge of not only this ancient language but also other obscure ones from various parts of Saptavarsha.
“Hmph, you are just jealous because all the maidens prefer me,” said Billadev, although, his eyes twinkled with mischief.
“Would you please move out of the way?” said Shota, furrowing his eyebrows.
“I will. If the princess answers my question. What do you say, Princess, do I look like him?”
“Er…” Chandra didn’t know what to say. They were an odd bunch, Veer’s friends. And as unlike each other as possible. Billadev was the jokester, who acted like he cared about nothing and seemed to take great pleasure in teasing his friends. Like he was doing now with his nonsensical claim. She could see both Veer and Shota exchange exasperated looks.
Shota, on the other hand, was difficult to interpret. He was infallibly polite and proper in his address and kept his thoughts close to his heart. She remembered him vaguely from sevenyears ago as a lanky, silent, young man, who had paled beside Veer’s other more charismatic friend, Virat.
Thinking about Virat soured her stomach, so she pushed the thoughts away.
Billadev caught sight of something on the carvings. “Wait. I know what I’m missing. The mark on the king’s forehead. If I could just replicate it…” he said, looking around for something he could use to write on himself.
“Don’t!” she said sharply, as Girish, her guard, spoke at the same time.
“Eh? What did I do?” asked Billadev, looking up, confused. Veer frowned.
Girish explained. “That mark is considered sacred, sire. It cannot be worn by just anybody without dire consequences.”
“How dire are we talking?” asked Veer. There was a sarcastic edge to his tone that told her he didn’t really believe the superstition behind the mark.
“Why don’t you try it and see? It would burn off your skin, and we could show you as an example the next time someone doesn’t believe it,” answered Chandra, glaring at Veer.
His eyes narrowed in warning.
An uncomfortable pause fell.
“Er, Princess?” Shota nudged her.
She turned away, taking a deep breath. Who cared if he didn’t agree with the beliefs and customs of the people here? A proper person would at least pretend to respect them, but she guessed it was too much to ask a barbarian.
They worked steadily for the next hour, as Chandra translated the writings on the wall and Shota painstakingly copied them into a sheaf of parchments.
