She didn’t think but acted instinctively, ducking underneath the restraining arm of the guard and dashing into the street, scooping up the child right in time. A rushing sound filled her ears, excluding everything else, including the call of her name as she flattened herself against the wooden boards to escape the notice of the behemoth.
The now sobbing child was safely tucked against her chest. Thankfully, the elephant seemed more focused on the gate at the end of the street.
It struck its head against the gate. Incredibly, the gate made of reinforced wood held despite the hits, making the animal madder. It gave a deafeningly loud trumpet. The child started bawling, and the elephant stopped. Chandra stood up trying to make a run for it, but a sudden pain in her ankle told its story of a sprain.
And then there was no time as the animal changed its direction and thundered toward them. Its forehead was bleeding into its small bloodlust-crazed eyes. She hunched over the child, trying to protect her as best as she could and make herself small. Chandra’s heart was in her throat, its pounding beat in her ears, drowning out all sound. This was it. She was going to die!
She felt something like the brush of wind at the last minute, followed by a thumping sound, but didn’t dare lift her head.
Seconds passed and when the anticipated pain didn’t come, she cautiously raised her head to see what happened. Veer stood in front of her, facing the elephant, acting as their shield.
She noticed a red gleam at the edge of his fingertips, but perhaps she was confusing it with the blood that dripped steadily from his hand, which surprisingly held one of the long spears that the handlers were using to control the elephants. The elephant was weaving in front of him as if dazed.
“Get her out of there,” he said, and Chandra realized that Sameera and another woman had joined them. She handed the child to the woman who introduced herself as the child’s mother and allowed herself to be led away by Sameera.
“Chandra, your ankle needs looking into,” said Sameera as she attempted to direct her to a nearby dwelling.
“Wait!” said Chandra, halting her. “My ankle can wait, it’s only a sprain. I want to see what happens.”
Veer jabbed his spear near the elephant’s head and moved away as the animal tried to stomp on him. His moves were lightning quick and so graceful that she could only watch with envy. The dance continued for a few minutes until the elephant inexplicably fell to the ground, bleeding out of its ears. It was still conscious, but it appeared as if the fight was beaten out of it.
Chandra tried to straighten herself as Veer threw the spear to the ground and advanced on her. The look on his face packed enough heat to incinerate her on the spot. He was towering mad.
Perhaps it was time to make herself scarce.
“Sameera, I feel faint. Maybe you should take me out of the hot sun. Now,” she whispered to her friend, who openly gawked at the muscular man standing in front of them, his arrogant stance belying his common origins that his attire was supposed to project. Instead, he had his hands on his hips, feet spread apart, his mouth pinched in a hard, flat line.
“Let me help you, then.Wife.” The last word was said in a sibilant hiss. He snatched her out from underneath her friend’s support and hoisted her up in his arms, as easily as a sack of grain, oblivious to her protests that she could walk fine.
“Sameera, this is Veer, my husband,” she said meekly, over her husband’s brawny shoulder, certain she was in for a dressing-down, leaving her friend looking after them in astonishment.
Chapter 23: Veer’s Ill-Fated Plan
The darkness of the building was pitch-like, after the bright sunlight outside, until Chandra’s eyes adjusted, and she was able to notice more details of the interior. It was a rice mill, judging by the bags of grain that stood packed against the wall and up, with some bags on the ground, spilling their harvested crop. She smelled the addictive aroma of freshly pounded wheat.
A pair of oxen, still tied to the mill, followed them with their large, dark eyes as Veer strode by, still carrying her, all the way to the back, where a window was open, letting in the sounds of the nearby stream.
He dumped her on the sacks none too gently. Nursing her backside, she attempted to look contrite before remembering she was angry with him as well.
“Are you really a blacksmith?” she asked, attempting to forestall his questioning. Her heart resumed its normal beat, now that the danger was past, but trepidation filled her seeing her husband’s anger.
“A metalworker,” he corrected with gritted teeth. “But I am familiar with smithy work. My father had both me and my sister learn some useful skills in case we lose everything and have to live ordinary lives. But don’t think this will get you out of questioning.”
He crouched in front of her and reached for her ankle.
“Tell me, Princess, are you really as dense as your actions suggest or are you deliberately trying to sabotage our mission here?” Outwardly his voice was calm and reasonable but there was an underlying temper that kept the ball of tension in the pit of her stomach wound tight.
Her mouth opened in anOand her eyes shot sparks of outrage. “I did no such thing.”
“Then what do you call this? I told you to do one thing, to make sure you don’t call attention to yourself and what do you do? Ditch my kite, pick an argument with one of the temple trustees, and now throw yourself in front of a marauding elephant.”
Despite his words, his touch was gentle as he seated himself on a rice bag opposite her and cradled her ankle in his palm, careful not to jar too much as he inspected it.
Chandra realized suddenly that Veer had her leg in his lap.
“What’re you doing?” she hissed, trying to retrieve her leg. “Men are not supposed to touch women’s feet.”
“Fortunately, there is no such superstition in Rajgarh, so you’re all right,” he said, dismissing her concerns.
