“Oh, I don’t doubt that, Father. But you can’t deny that some of that loyalty is from fear,” said Veer with a grim smile that somehow leeched the expression of any humor.
“Then this is your chance to show them that those fears are groundless. Rescind your wife’s punishment and bring her to her rightful place here. It would go a long way toward appeasing Amaravathi.”
Veer continued to gaze at the diorama not responding to his father’s edict. Ever since he heard they needed Amaravathi’s help, he had known this would be on the table. It didn’t mean he had to like it.
“If we’re considering the descendants of Amarendra, then we cannot discount Thianvelli,” he said almost reflectively. His father, about to turn away, hesitated.
“Thianvelli?” asked Bheesmala, surprised.
“Yes. Amaravathi’s sister kingdom. Both their royal families are descended from a common ancestor. If, as Sage Aswi says, only Amarendra’s ancestors can use the key, then Thianvelli should be a contender too.”
“Thianvelli’s king, Harideva, is dead.” Bheesmala frowned.
“But not his son, Prince Aditya,” argued Veer.
“You would choose an eleven-year-old boy over Prince Bhupathi, the crown prince of Amaravathi and a full-grown man?” asked Bheesmala, incredulously. “That is only slightly worse than taking a woman on this quest.”
The kingdoms of the Saptavarsha were bound by strict societal rules. A woman’s place was considered to be at home, with family or beside a husband, and their movements weremore restricted. The pride of a family or clan rested on how well they treated their womenfolk.
As such, women weren’t expected to go on solitary trips without company or with strangers if there were available alternatives. Of course, there were exceptions and regional variations to the levels of freedom women enjoyed.
The king of Amaravathi, Chandraketu, had four queens and seven daughters, but only one son, Prince Bhupathi, which left him as the only viable person to go on this quest to complete the key. Rajgarh’s advisors were all hoping he would help with this task, because Chandraketu was getting on in years, while Bhupathi was almost the same age as Veer, a man in his prime and suited to the rigors of a tough journey.
Veer’s gaze was distant. “I know I must go to Amaravathi. There is at least one lotus key piece there. I am just trying to bring down the price Amaravathi is going to demand.” He brought his gaze back to his father and gave him a look. “You know they’re going to want Kalpeet.”
Kalpeet was the military fortress given as a bridal price when Veer married Princess Chandrasena.
“Kalpeet belongs to Rajgarh now,” said Bheesmala absently, not even needing to think about it. He contemplated his son for a while. “I’ll not tell you how to solve this problem, Veer. Meru is your responsibility from now on. I only care about the results. Go to Amaravathi or Thianvelli, I don’t care. I only ask that you take Shota with you,” he added, before walking away.
“Of course, Father. When have I ever disobeyed you?” Veer said in a low voice, bowing his head, the tinge of sarcasm in his words going unnoticed.
Chapter 4: Regrets
Veer’s parting words still played on his father’s mind a week following his son’s departure for the southern kingdoms. The moon was westering in the night sky as lazy clouds played hide-and-seek with the gibbous moon and a carpet of stars formed the Milky Way. Tension still sat obstinate on his shoulders.
Bheesmala was aware he was the one to blame for his son’s current situation, forcing Veer into marriage with an Amaravathi’s princess all those years ago.
* * *
Seven years ago…
“Do you know why I have called you to Amaravathi?” Bheesmala asked his son, who paused while picking up a guava from a platter. Veer’s eyes were sunken with fatigue, and Bheesmala briefly wondered if he had eaten that day. Before he asked his son to meet him in the royal tent, he was told Veer was elbow-deep in conference with his captains. His son had come to Amaravathi only a few days ago on his summons and already was taking over the plan of action for the war.
“How blunt do you wish me to be, Father?” asked Veer, raising his eyebrows.
“As blunt as you always are, Veer,” King Bheesmala said with a faint smile.
“Everyone thinks it’s because you need my help. I have built up a reputation as a worthy fighter. Naturally, you’d call for my help when things aren’t going as expected.”
The war with Amaravathi had lasted longer than they all had anticipated.
Bheesmala watched his only son with a shrewd gaze. “You say ‘everyone thinks.’ Does that mean you don’t believe that?”
Veer shrugged. “You’ve never needed me before.” And if there was a hint of resentment in his words, Bheesmala elected to ignore it.
“You’re right. That’s not the only reason I’ve called you here.” He paused, unusually reticent in initiating the discussion. “You know that talks have been in process between us and Amaravathi.”
Veer’s lip curled, his sharp gaze saying more than words what he thought about it. “Yes. I know that. And how are they progressing exactly? I’m not surprised. Talks with someone as headstrong as Amaravathi would be bound for failure.”
