“You will give us the location of the mine?”
Qutlugh shook her head.
“The location is secret,” Qutlugh said. “Only a few members of my family line possess the knowledge. I am not one of them.” A dimpling smile. “We will bring the heart’s shell to you whenever you command it, of course.”
“It will be inconvenient for your family to cross the Lal Qila regularly,” Malini observed. “Especially if your new home is deep within the empire. And we will need a great deal of this stone. Our empire is at war.”
“We will make the journey gladly, as many times as Parijatdvipa requires it of us,” said the kai’s sister. “But we will not part with our knowledge. My clan recognize that we have been weakened. My brother lost our lands when he was a young ruler, and we have limited military power. But we have the heart’s shell. Our knowledge is our greatest resource, and we will not squander it.”
Malini inclined her head.
“Will you vow your obedience to Parijatdvipa, and to the descendant of Divyanshi who holds the Parijatdvipan imperial throne?”
“Will you refuse us if the Jagatay do not? If we will not vow, will you reject us?” Qutlugh raised an inquisitive eyebrow. “If we have no home from you, Empress, you will have no heart’s shell from us.
“You have threatened nothing,” Qutlugh continued, “but I will tell you this anyway, because I understand the nature of those who rule: My brother will not bow or bend if you hold me hostage or kill me. I came here as any warrior going to battle. I knew I risked my honor and my life. If you torture me, I have no knowledge I can share that will lead you to heart’s shell. But I am willing and able to bargain with you, Empress.”
“I can offer nothing without a vow of loyalty,” Malini said.
“Ahiranya was part of your empire once. They made no such vows.”
“Ahiranya was a conquered nation. Do you wish your people to be treated similarly? Lady Qutlugh—this vow I ask for does not chain you. It makes your people equals among equals.”
“Equals beneath your throne, yes.” The woman tapped her lip thoughtfully. “A vow can be a hollow thing, Empress. You know this, don’t you? If I choose to lie, the vow of the Jagatay will be worth nothing. How can you trust me? How can we trust you?”
“My throne, my empire, rests on the vows of the kings who serve me,” Malini said steadily. “Betraying those vows would betray myself. As for my trust in you… Lady Qutlugh, you and your brother have given me a weapon that may save my people.” She filled her voice with feeling—let emotion flit, for a moment, across her features. “How can I not extend you trust?”
Qutlugh gave her a long look. Then, finally, she nodded.
“We may bargain, Empress. You will need heart’s shell urgently, I think.”
“You’re correct.”
“I carried a supply of heart’s shell with me,” said Qutlugh. She touched a light hand to the heavy gold at her throat, then swept the hand up to the large earrings strung through her ears, bound with chains to her hair to ease the burden of their weight. She met Malini’s eyes with a smile. “Heart’s shell painted with gold,” she said. “I guessed it would go unnoticed.”
Clever.
She removed her bangles—heavy links of stone bound together and placed them each into Malini’s waiting hands.
Malini looked at them. She felt their weight and thought of how easily the strings that had bound them to Qutlugh’s wrists could be crafted into locks. Something to hold a yaksa’s powers at bay, and a human woman’s hands chained.
“Come,” said Malini. “My guards will bring us food and drink. We have negotiations to conduct.”
When negotiations came to an end, Rao departed. Half his men would take Lady Qutlugh to Dwarali and arrange her safe passage beyond the Lal Qila. The rest would have to travel with him.
He left at dusk, gold light grasping his shadow as he rode away from her camp. He’d bowed when he’d said goodbye to Malini. To Sima, who would remain with Malini, he gave a soft farewell, his eyes huge with apology.
Sima gave him a stiff farewell in return. She was clearly upset at being left behind. But she watched his departure for just as long as Malini did, her eyes fixed on the distance, arms crossed protectively over her body.
“Take care of her,” Malini said quietly to Sahar. “Make sure she causes no trouble.”
Sahar inclined her head in understanding.
A rider with a message arrived hours later, kicking up dust under his horse’s hooves. His face was sickly under his helm; his hands shook when he drank the water that was carried to him.
“Soon after you left, Empress,” he said, in a grim voice held steady by stubbornness alone, “something unnatural pierced Srugna. A quake shook the earth. And the rot… the rot spread in the blink of an eye. And something in the forest, among the trees, killed hundreds of soldiers. It took less than an hour, Empress, for the devastation to spread.” He bowed his head. “Lord Prakash begs more aid on behalf of King Lakshan. More soldiers. Food supplies. Anything that can be spared.”
“There are no swords I can offer that will be able to fight the rot,” Malini said finally, once her horror had settled. “But I will send a message with you ahead of my retinue to Parijat. Our stored harvest will be shared with Srugna, and the priests of the mothers—and I—will pray for Srugna’s dead.”
