She must have asked Chaaya to send me here, knowing I needed him to find a way forward, and he needed me to break him out of his maniacal battle analysis.
“I wasn’t frantic!” Thevan protested.
“Yes, totally normal for a person to shove stones around on a map for hours on end.”
Thevan wouldn’t give in so easily. “We need to plan! If the Porcugi attack again, we need to be more prepared.”
“I agree with Thevan,” Nikith said. “Ullal is vulnerable, and it’s only a matter of time before the Porcugi find out. The question is, Can Ullal ever be prepared enough for this fight?”
My stomach growled before Thevan could reply, and everyone turned toward me. “That settles it. It’s time to eat.”
If Thevan could carry on, then so could I. I would just keep putting one foot in front of the other until I got to where I needed to go.
I picked up one of the bowls of kadambam that Chaaya had dished out and took a hearty bite. Cardamom, mustard, coconut, and hing exploded on my palate as I savored the sambar-infused rice, lentils, and vegetables. I continued to eat as Chaaya served the others, but nobody else touched their food.
“Eat, everyone,” I said. They looked at each other. “Yes, that’s a command. We won’t be able to think properly if we’re starving, and there’s a lot of work to do. Chaaya, summon Tara. Tell her I’m calling the first meeting of my council.”
“Your council?” Parushi said in surprise.
“Yes, my council.”
I didn’t elaborate, even though I understood her confusion. Parushi was just a soldier, and Tara was a healer. Neither of them would typically be advisers to a rani. Nikith’s ties to Ullal had been established less than two years ago, and there were those who would question his loyalty now that his wife was gone. Even Thevan hadn’t earned the same respect as his father and brother, because he was the younger son. But they were the people I trusted most.
“If you’ll agree.” I desperately wanted them to say yes, but I wouldn’t force them.
Parushi and Thevan nodded quickly, but I was most curious about Nikith’s response. He had every right to return to Bidanur after the death of his wife. But I’d seen his love for Ullal, and I hoped he would want to stay. It would be like having Ektha by my side.
“I can think of no better way to honor the memory my wife.” Nikith bowed his head. “Thank you.”
I tried not to show my relief. “Good. Let’s eat. And then we’ll make a plan for Ullal.”
Chapter 21
For almost two moons, I refused to let myself stop. Each day echoed the day before it, blending from one to the next. I made the same motions from sunrise until sunset, throwing myself into a routine and going from one place to the next until I could only hear the whisper of my grief when I stopped moving altogether.
Most mornings were consumed with discussions of strategy with Thevan and Nikith. I couldn’t bring myself to use the throne room, so we continued to meet in the council room. Fresh tea and snacks were always served, but they often went untouched as my two closest advisers butted heads. Thevan was determined to avenge his brother and father, and he was convinced that war with the Porcugi was our only way forward. Our soldiers agreed and had rallied behind him?—just thinking about their roaring cheer when I appointed him general still gave me tingles. Nikith, on the other hand, always fretted about the cost of our fight with the Porcugi and wanted to find a peaceful solution.
The Porcugi had attacked our ships three times since I’d become rani, and this morning a group of farmers had come to discuss their concerns about exporting crops. Thevan and Nikith had started arguing as soon as the farmers left.
“We can’t continue like this.” Nikith gripped his knees so tightly that his knuckles were pale. The steam from the piping-hot masala vada on the table curled up between us, but he ignored it. “Their losses are too great. You heard them?—they don’t know what to do if another ship is lost.”
“Ships were lost at sea even before the Porcugi came.” Thevan crossed his arms and leaned back into the green cushions behind him. “The farmers will do exactly what they did before: prepare for their next shipment and hope to make it up.”
“But it’s different now.” Nikith leaned toward me. I’d noticed that he always made sure he was sitting closer to me than Thevan, even though Thevan and I had kept our distance since that day in the council room. “This isn’t the same as getting hit by an unexpected storm or some other unforeseen tragedy. These are targeted attacks, and they’re going to keep happening unless?—”
“Until,” Thevan interrupted, “we find a better way to defend against them.”
His jaw was set in that stubborn way of his. It was the same face he used to make when we were training as children and our instructors tried to tell him he couldn’t fight with all his energy all the time. They often encouraged Thevan to pace himself, but even then he’d been against the idea of fighting with anything less than everything he had. On those days, he grumbled nonstop?—long after training finished?—until I sneaked into the kitchen and stole some laddus for us. Thevan always tried to pretend he wasn’t hungry at first, but he would finally smile when I pushed up the corners of his lips, and then we’d run away giggling as we gobbled our sweets.
Thankfully, neither of them noticed the way my fingers flicked toward Thevan’s mouth.
“Ifwe find a better way,” Nikith said. “But even if we do, what happens until then? How long can we ask the people of Ullal to sacrifice themselves and their livelihoods against such a fearsome enemy?”
“We’ll find a way to defeat them soon.” Thevan showed no hint of fear, but I knew that he was struggling to find an effective defense against the Porcugi.
Our weapons weren’t made to work against those hardened, almost steellike scales. It was a challenge, one that Thevan was more than willing to face?—but what about the people who lived beyond the fort’s walls?
Nikith turned to me and spoke softly. “Please, Rani, consider paying the tithes. If we are to have any peace, any chance at recovering from these losses, it is worth the price.”
