Loss

Devdoot ran through the corridor of the inner palace of Neelambargarh with the scroll he had just collected from a messenger of Raja Viraj in hand. The colour of the wrap indicated it was urgent and he had to deliver it to the Maharani as soon as possible. It was the break of dawn, and Rajkumari Mandakini was at the temple. Watching Devdoot run with a scroll in hand made Rajkumari Mandakini’s heart skip a beat. Was it bad news? Were the Maharaja or his mother alright? She looked across from the temple premises and the Kund towards the grounds where Shivanandan and his men were camped. As she stepped forward towards the camp, hoping to see him, the maid stopped her. With apologies, she informed her that it was the queen’s order that she was not supposed to meet the general from Suryapali or his men until the Maharaja arrived. With a sigh, Mandakini made her way back to her chamber. 

Maharani Priyambada was getting dressed with the help of Vrinda and the maids as Urvi stood briefing her about the supplies, a list of things they wanted for the kitchen and the whereabouts of the Rajkumari of Suryapali when Devdoot stood panting at the threshold. Maharani Priyambada stood up in urgency as Urvi took the scroll from him and handed it to her. She opened it in a hurry and sat down with a gasp, making Vrinda and Urvi share worrying glances as Devdoot stood fixed to his spot. 

“Someone tried to kill the Maharaja.” She managed aloud as Vrinda gasped and Urvi took the scroll from the Maharani’s hand at her gesture. Priyambada sat frowning as Urvi read the next bit out loud. “He is fine, but… Mallal?” Urvi’s eyes travelled to Devdoot, who stood a little wide-eyed, hearing her speak. “He saved the Maharaja but…” Vrinda gasped again as though she was trying to speak, but no words escaped her mouth. The maids stared at each other as Urvi quickly dismissed them. She gently put her hand over Maharani Priyambada’s shoulder, unsurely, as she jolted out of her trance. 

“I should thank the Lord that he is fine… and…” She looked up at Devdoot and spoke in a rather low voice. “Prepare an honourable funeral for Mallal, he died on duty.”

“This says that it is not safe for the Maharaja to travel anymore, so he will be back in a day or two,” Urvi reassured. Vrinda almost immediately got her composure back as she said, “I will go prepare for his arrival.”

“Devdoot?” Priyambada held Urvi’s hand as she looked up at him.

“Yes, Your Highness.” Devdoot nodded.

“Please see to it that every food, every item and every person around the prince is scrutinised.” Maharani Priyambada’s voice trembled.

“Of course, Your Highness. I will personally see to it,” he bowed quickly and rushed out to do the needful. 

“Please leave me alone, Urvi.” She commanded as Urvi took the cue, bowed to her mistress and left to find Devdoot. Mallal’s death must have affected him, and she wanted to see if he was fine. Her feet were swollen from the beginning of the trimester, and she hurried as fast as she could to Rajkumar Mrityunjoy’s chamber, but he was not there. She frowned and looked around to enquire from the guards that he had gone to speak to one of the generals to see that another loyal bodyguard had been appointed for the king. Urvi stood there for a moment, wondering how the world went on just fine, replacing a person or a duty like they never existed, their sacrifices and loyalty gathering dust in a stone edict somewhere if they were highborn, and lost in oblivion for people like Mallal. Her thought made her emotional as she wiped away the coming tears. She had never known the man, but if Devdoot liked him, he must have been great. She needed to check on Devdoot, but she knew he would be immersed in work. He did that when he was upset. So, she had to wait till nightfall to see him again. 

Rajkumari Mandakini had found a routine in her guarded premises, praying, reading and often hearing the maids tell stories of Neelambargarh and its gods and kings. For a change, Mandakini realised how right Ishaan Dev was to see these people as humans and not enemies, as she had. She had never met a Neelambargarhi in all her life. The only times she heard of one were when her father, brother or nephews went to war. They were bruised. Sometimes a part of their land would be occupied by the Neelambargarhi, she would hear from behind the curtains her father or brother lamenting about loot, lost cattle, destroyed crops and temples and kidnapped women. It made her blood boil as she imagined the people of Neelambargarh to be demons that she had heard of, from myths and epics. Hearing their stories of war and loss made her realise that, given a chance, even her kin would turn into demons for these people. She wanted to enquire into how Shivanandan and his troop were doing, whether he was being insulted or punished for being a Suryapalian. She knew she could not meet him, so she took out a coin from her bundle along with a note she managed to scribble and handed it over to her maid, who read the note herself to reassure her belief that it caused no harm to Neelambargarh and its royals before taking it to Shivanandan.

Although Shivanandan had not been able to leave the camp, he was reassured that Rajkumari Mandakini was being looked after when he would spot her with the maid on the temple premises. She was back in royal attire, brown and beige drapes hung from her shoulders, and she was wearing silver jewellery that shone in the sun. She carefully wrapped her head in the drape, aware that her bald head was not to be shown, and when she was unaware of the drape falling loosely over her head, even from a distance, Shivanandan could see that her hair was growing back. It satisfied him to see her adjusting to her new surroundings, being fully aware of her prejudice against the Neelambargarhi. When he received the message from the maid, at first, he assumed it was some kind of test the royals were putting his loyalty through, but her handwriting was not something he would forget. He reassured her that he was fine and was counting the days to the Maharaja’s arrival and waiting to meet him as well. Along with the reply, Mandakini’s maid brought the welcoming news that the Maharaja was arriving back home soon. But she was sure something was gravely wrong, and the closest aides of the Maharani looked stressed. Mandakini said a soft prayer to the Lord to keep her nephew safe before she retired for the night. 

Ishaan Dev had just received the news from his royal guards that Mallal’s body was being taken back to his native land and that a ceremonial burial of his body would be done soon by his brothers. He had no children, so it was up to them to do his last rites. Ishaan Dev sent a letter of official acknowledgement of his bravery, along with his coffin, to his kin and sat down silently in his tent. Footsteps alerted him as his hand travelled to his dagger almost instantly, and the curtain parted, and Raja Viraj arrived at the camp. He cleared his throat to inform him that he had written to the Maharani and informed her that the Maharaja was going back to Neelambargarh soon. Ishaan Dev frowned at his words. Just the other evening, they were speculating on extending their expedition to Chandramer, and Raja Viraj was in favour of asking their help as part of the deal they made earlier. It wasn’t morally wrong, and he was sure that if they didn’t ask for help, Ravi Varman would. Now, with such attacks and the elimination of his most trusted people, Ishaan Dev felt that there was no harm in asking Chandramer for help as well. “But I was thinking that maybe we can discuss going to Chandrameri or sending them…”

“If you want, I can go there, Your Highness. But you must return to the capital immediately for your own safety.” Raja Viraj spoke in a rather firm tone that made Maharaja Ishaan Dev frown.

“But when it's Chandrameri, it will be wrong to send you. I have to go.” Ishaan Dev shook his head. “I know Mallal saved me this time, and we are yet to detect what the attack was from, but…”

“Then I suggest you come back to Chandramer later when things are… better.” Raja Viraj looked almost pale and scared. Ishaan Dev had never seen him so startled.

“What happened, Raja?” He asked as Raja Viraj looked away. “You look perplexed. Did something happen?”

Raja Viraj cleared his throat. This was more difficult than he had imagined. He had told the guards that he would be the one to give Ishaan Dev the news of Kumari Advika’s demise. He had practised in his head how to put it in words and imagined how the king would react. Did he care for her still? Was he as aloof as he acted? Did he hate her? Raja Viraj had no idea. When he took his leave from Mait, the rumours were too many. She killed herself because she could not forget the Suryapalian prince. She aided his attack and died in guilt. Someone killed her. The more Raja Viraj thought of it, the more confused he was. It was also evident from Rajkumar Advait’s words that they knew more than they were letting on. Whether it was to save their princess’s dignity or to catch her killers, he couldn’t tell.

“It is Kumari Advika.” He cleared his throat. Ishaan Dev frowned.

“What had she done now?” He let out a soft chuckle, almost amused, as his voice sounded taunting. Raja Viraj wet his dry lips and found his voice.

“She is… she was found dead… Murdered perhaps… the same night Mallal…” Raja Viraj stopped as Ishaan Dev stared at him in disbelief. Not knowing what more to tell, Raja Viraj bowed and left with an excuse to see that the Maharaja’s entourage was ready for departure. Ishaan Dev could barely nod or register his words as he stared at the swaying curtains of the tent. 

For a moment, he felt like he couldn’t breathe, or that he had forgotten how to. He took two deep breaths to reassure himself that he was still breathing and found his hand trembling a little on his dagger. His throat went dry as he got up and walked to his dresser. Among his things, he found the pendant Kumari Advika had given him only two days ago. She was asking for forgiveness. Crying and begging for it. Yet he could not forgive her wholeheartedly. He blamed her for coming between him and his wife. He suddenly remembered her tears. How, once in wordy letters, he had promised her that she would never be sad once they were together. And every time he had seen her since, she was in pain. An old pain ached in his heart. Ishaan Dev couldn’t perhaps admit even to himself that a part of him could never forget past memories of who he assumed she was; his heart ached in a loss he perhaps never knew he would feel. His pain was controlled, and somehow, he knew the way she was recklessly going around playing with minds bigger than hers, this was destined to happen, yet a part of him felt pity for her. He suddenly had this thought: Was it possible that she killed herself? Or even now, Trishaan Dev was after the people who ever mattered to him? His jaws tightened as he remembered little Mrityunjoy playing in his mother’s arms. He needed to make sure they were safe. He needed to be at Neelambargarh and see Priyambada. Hug her to do away with the sudden emptiness that made his chest feel hollow. He stared at the pendant before summoning Raja Viraj again. 

“I don’t have any answers from Mait.” he shook his head, trying to read into Ishaan Dev’s mind. “But my spies say they don’t believe she killed herself.”

“Then do me a favour, send them a note of condolence on behalf of Neelambargarh with… this…” He held out the pendant, and Raja Viraj took it and nodded with no questions asked. It was then that the guard walked in to inform them that Rajkumar Advait was here to see the Maharaja. Raja Viraj exchanged a puzzling glance with Maharaja Ishaan Dev, and the prince walked in looking grim and sleepless.

“I come here to pledge myself to your cause, Maharaja.” He wasted no time in kneeling before Ishaan Dev as he frowned. “I know my father has already offered his troops and cavalry, elephants and horses, but I offer myself to you and your cause.”

“But you are his heir, Raya Vishyam told us…” Raja Viraj spoke.

“I know my father wants to go to war instead of me, but…” He stood up and faced the men as he said with teary eyes, “I want to see them in their eyes when I slash their throats.” Ishaan Dev inhaled. He was not alone in thinking that Trishaan Dev or the new Suryapalian regime had something to do with the incident.

“You are welcome to my camp, my friend.” Ishaan Dev placed his hand gently on the prince’s shoulder. He gave Raja Viraj orders to transfer the pendant and official letter of condolence to the prince of Mait before he started his long journey back home. 

Rajkumar Advait turned pale as he was handed the pendant. He discreetly checked to see if it opened into a secret chamber like the one he had seen, and it didn’t. His throat went dry when the Maharaja's letter of condolence informed him that the princess had come to apologise to the Maharaja with this token from Mait as a sign of his forgiveness, and he wished to give it back. As Rajkumar Advait took the pendant and the letter with a bow, he was now sure that Kumari Advika was involved in the ploy to kill the Maharaja. There was no way anyone else could know of it. He had already pledged against Suryapali, and if Neelambargarh did not trust him either, he would be left the weakest in the land. He decided to burn the pendant in secrecy that very night. And with it, he burnt what little remained of his sister’s existence in the land of the Maya.

When Mait’s capital was seen like a line on the horizon, Ishaan Dev turned back just once while he rode on Vidyut and stopped his horse. The entourage stopped in silence behind him as he looked up skyward as if to say a prayer. He couldn’t wait to be home, to hold his child and spend time with Maharani Priyambada. He knew life was unexpected, but he never felt the fear of missing out on his time with them as he did that day. He smiled faintly at the last sight of Mait as if to say his last goodbye to the woman he once loved and the place she called home. Then he rode homewards, to the border of Neelambargarh, on the Heemdevi.

“I don’t understand what is happening, Urvi,” Priyambada exclaimed as she paced the room, and Urvi read through the scroll that she had handed her. It was dawn, and Urvi had come to check on her mistress only to find her pacing sleeplessly with a scroll in hand. Urvi immediately noticed the seal of her spies as she read the scroll and gasped. “Did she kill herself? Did someone kill her? But why?” Urvi cleared her throat but stayed quiet. It would be inappropriate for her to speak her mind, but if she could, she had her own theories. Perhaps the princess was guilty of trying to harm the Maharaja and killed herself. Or someone thought she was still in his heart and killed her to affect Ishaan Dev. But did he still care? Urvi looked up at Maharani Priyambada, still pacing the room. Was it ever possible to forget someone? She wondered to herself as she gently put down the scroll and stepped away from the room, leaving Priyambada with her own thoughts. She still needed to find Devdoot and talk to him. He hadn’t returned to their quarters the previous night, something he never did. She was worried, and Devdoot seemed to be avoiding her.

Maharani Priyambada, for once, in a long time, had no idea what was happening around her. She didn’t have enough information about the attack or the deaths to make any judgment or conclusion, and it rang like warning bells in her head. All her answers could only be answered once her husband was home. Suddenly, she was worried. He had been going through a lot lately, and she was unsure how the deaths of Mallal or Advika would affect him. All she wanted now was to hold him close and listen to him. She sat down at the edge of her bed and tried to concentrate on the scrolls of administrative matter she had taken up for the day. The court had been dismissed as Devdoot thought it was wise for her not to meet people in public. That left Priyambada with more thoughts. It was only when the wet nurses brought the prince to her, and Mrityunjoy gave a joyous glee at the sight of his mother, that Priyambada was calm and managed a smile as she held him close to her, and he played with his ivory-carved toys. It was going to be a long day for her. She was not ready to leave the prince alone till Ishaan Dev arrived.

As darkness set in, the Suryapali palace and one by one, the lights went out, Kausani made her way down the cellar to Trinayani Devi with her dinner. Rani Sumedha had managed to make this a daily affair to avoid suspicion, and none of the guards would inform the king about his queen’s decisions. They assumed he knew of them. As Trinayani Devi ate, Kausani spoke in a whisper. 

“Her Highness told me to inform you that she had overheard the king talk of war.” Trinayani Devi stopped at her morsel and looked up at her words. 

“War with Neelambargarh?” Kausani shook her head.

“Meendeep has refused to accept Suryapalian supremacy and has pledged their loyalty to Neelambargarh. Her Highness thinks that Suryapali is thinking of teaching Meendeep a lesson.” Kausani whispered again. “How and when she doesn’t know.” Trinayani Devi felt concerned. She had no way to inform Priyambada or Ishaan Dev about it or even warn her brothers. Telling Sumedha to do so would raise suspicion on her part. What could she do? Trinayani Devi’s eyes filled with tears as the morsel refused to go down her throat. Meendeep was not strong enough to resist Suryapali if attacked.

Urvi was waiting for Devdoot to return as she sat with the food she had just cooked and fanned it with a leaf to keep the insects away. There was still no sign of him. The lamp shone and danced in the sudden gusts of fanning as she sat with eyes fixed on the threshold, holding her breath and reciting what she wanted to tell him, in her head. She was almost sure he would be somewhere else for the night when she heard footsteps and straightened herself. Devdoot arrived at the threshold and was surprised to find her waiting for dinner. Usually, it was an unsaid rule between them that she came home in time, ate her meal and slept, to make sure she was properly rested before resuming work in the morning. Devdoot knew instantly what she was concerned about. He tried to force a smile and lighten the mood with, “So what did you cook today?” Urvi got up to face him before he could sit down for his meal, and he instinctively held her hand to help her get up. She looked at him intently and whispered, “Are you really alright, Devdoot?” He nodded as she looked worried, and before he could utter reassuring words, Urvi hugged him. 

Devdoot froze for a moment, a little scared that the little one would be crushed between them, as her belly touched his abdomen, before feeling the warmth of comfort Urvi provided. “I was worried when you didn’t return home yesterday.” She whispered in a complaining tone. He held her gently enough not to make her aware of how much he wanted that hug. He sighed as Urvi held on close and admitted to himself, in the deepest corner of his heart, that although he was upset about Mallal, this hug was what moved him more. She cared, even if it was different from what he often dreamt of now. And that was enough for them. He reassured her by patting her head that he was fine, and every warrior and their families and friends were prepared for such a day. 

“If the Maharaja goes to war and I follow, who knows…” Urvi’s gasp made him stop as she frowned, and her eyes twinkled. “Don’t say such things. They say the gods of death lurk around at night and hear us speak.”

“Do they?” He was amused as he let go of her hug and sat down to eat. It didn’t escape him how she was still trying to decipher his emotions by staring at his face. She fanned as he ate, making him aware of her stares as he cleared his throat and spoke again,

“Heard of the princess of Mait…” She nodded as he continued, “Can’t say I'm upset.”

“I wonder what the Maharaja is feeling…” Urvi spoke as if thinking aloud to herself. “Is he hurt?”

“Why would he be? He got over her.” Devdoot said, taking a morsel. “He may be concerned about the safety of his family, but…”

“Can people be forgotten, Devdoot?” Urvi wondered as he stopped at his morsel and looked up at her. “Unloved?”

“You tell me.” He said with a faint smile. “I don’t think I have ever been in love.” He stared at her smile.

“I can tell when you lie, Devdoot. I have known you since we were little.” She shook her head. “Your tone changes.”

“It doesn’t. I have never…” He stopped to realise she was right as she smiled a little, amused. “Have you… been truly in love?” He asked, a little scared as Urvi sighed, holding her belly gently. 

“I don’t know Devdoot. I can’t tell. But … I can’t possibly forget the father of my child.” She whispered as Devdoot suddenly felt like someone had kicked him in the pit of his stomach. He had lost his appetite. 

“You should talk of pleasant things and not such…” He interrupted and changed his tone. “I thought of names, as promised.”

Urvi looked up at his words and smiled again, “Do tell.” She urged. 

“If it’s a girl, then Anushuya.” He made her smile “And if it's a boy, then Agastya.”

Urvi’s eyes sparkled. “I like them.”

“I still don’t know why you insist I choose the name.” He shrugged. “I struggled through some texts and took the help of so many scholarly friends.” Urvi smiled as she stopped fanning, and he got up to throw away his leaf plate.

“It is because my family has a tradition. The father names the children.” Devdoot stopped at the threshold and glanced over his shoulder at her, as Urvi smiled at him with a reassuring nod.