But the arrows didn’t strike her. Instead, they were drawn toward her bow, like iron filings to a magnet, coalescing together to form a single, sturdy black arrow, now tightly strung across her bow.
She carefully lessened the tension of the string, until she had the fused arrow, a pitch-black bolt with an iron head and distinct helical fletching, in her hands.
A few people cheered and clapped, like they had watched a clever magician’s show.
“Tell me something, Captain,” came Prince Veer’s contemplative voice. “Why does this not bother you? It is, after all, similar to what I’ve done. And yet you hesitate because you saw me use magic and decided that I wasn’t trustworthy, based on a talent I was born with.”
Aradatta chose his words with care. He saw no point in denying that Prince Veer’s powers didn’t unsettle him. The prince may be a war general but he was also a shrewd reader of people, and he reminded himself to be careful in his presence.
“The mark the princess carries was one used by King Amarendra, the person who built great things, even this very temple we are standing in. People associate that mark with good things. Agrani doesn’t remember every single detail, but she recalls that people who bear the mark go through rigorous and painful training for it. So, their actions are never hasty or thoughtless. That is part of the reason.”
“And what’s the other part?”
“The princess is from Amaravathi…”
“Ah, that explanation is more like it,” Veer said mirthlessly, gazing into the fire. “You would consider Amaravathi as trustworthy, but not a kingdom like mine, which had sworn to see the well-being of the Saptavarsha. Why don’t you admit it is a blind prejudice that drives your decisions?”
Aradatta shifted guiltily, knowing what the prince said was partly the truth. He opened his mouth to apologize, but the prince forestalled him by raising a hand.
“I don’t need an apology from you. I am, instead, going to ask you for something. You could consider it a request in exchange for the help we offer,” he said, tearing his gaze away from the dancing flames.
Aradatta gazed at him in wary silence, waiting, wondering what he was going to demand and how much they could afford or what form that payment would take.
“Open the temple to everyone,” said Veer, surprising Aradatta with his simple request. “Like it had been in King Amarendra’s time.” A slight smile softened the prince’s face, as if he understood his request was most unusual. “You know it’s the right thing to do.”
Aradatta stared at him, mouth agape. He hadn’t been expecting such a behest from the ruthless prince. “I…I, of course, we can do that,” he stammered. “But I confess, I’m amazed that you care about such things, Prince Veer.”
“I don’t,” said Veer bluntly. “But my wife does. I’m making this request for her.”
Aradatta considered the prince, aware that trusting this person was going to be a gamble. But a gamble with good odds. Any man who gave that much importance to his wife’s wishes couldn’t be all bad. He sent up a brief prayer to Lord Brihadeeshwar and answered the prince’s earlier question.
“Prince Veer, we accept your offer of help with deepest gratitude and hope that this association becomes an indicator of stronger ties in the future between our respective lands.”
* * *
Veer pondered Aradatta’s words a few hours later as he searched for his wife. He finally found her in one of the sick tents, helping Matangi administer medicine to a poisoned person.
“I need to speak to you,” he said, crouching on one knee.
“Give me a couple minutes,” said Chandra, her reluctance obvious. She probably expected him to yell at her for disobeying his instructions.
“It’s urgent, Chandra,” he said, a bit impatiently, in no mood to pacify her when it happened to be true. He was still fuming at the way she had been careless with her safety.
“Lady asked for couple minutes,” said Matangi in a sharp voice, causing both Chandra and Veer to stare at her. Matangi’s face flushed, but her mouth pinched into a mulish line. “Sorry, Your Majesty,” she whispered, lowering her eyes.
Chandra allowed herself to be dragged away after that, pausing to grab her quiver she had set against a pillar.
“You seem to have acquired a new enthusiast,” said Veer, peering back over his shoulder as he led her toward an isolated grove of coconut trees, which somehow escaped the heat of the flames.
“What?” she said and squinted back as well.
Matangi was standing at the tent entrance staring after them with a frown on her face.
“Give her a nod that you’ll be fine with me. Go on,” said Veer.
Chandra did as he instructed, and Matangi smiled in response as she went back in.
“See? I told you. New admirer.”
