Laldasa (20 page)

“And did you?”

She nodded. “My difficulties are insignificant. I see that. But the same difficulties are being inflicted on others—only God knows how many others. As you pointed out, I was fortunate. I was found by you and not by the Sarngin ... or worse. Hadas was lucky, too. But his sister was not. What happens to her? To the others like her?”

Jaya shifted in his chair, his eyes following hers to the fire. “Why ask me?”

“Because you know. You know something about kaladans and slavery.”

He was not a man without conscience; she knew that. Last night she had sensed in him the opening of a new level of comprehension. They spoke of people, of lives—not of commodities, nor ciphers on an inventory sheet, nor even the strictly faceless “other.” These commodities had names—Ana, Hadas, Belia. She pressed him purposefully, now, wanting him to see this reality as she saw it, feel it as she felt it. She wanted him to walk, if only for a moment, in the way of the casteless—to imagine being free one moment and enslaved the next. She watched his face, wanting it to reveal his comprehension. It revealed nothing.

“I think you understand very well what might have happened to you, Ana. You were in that dalali long enough.”

“I was there long enough,” she said, “to know I'd like to see such places closed down.”

His mouth twitched. “That will never happen. The dalali is an institution in every major city on Mehtar. It's how we handle people who ... who fall from the structure of society.”

“Fall?” repeated Ana. “I didn't fall, Nathu Rai, I was pushed. As other of my people are being pushed. I am not part of the structure of your society. It should have no claim on me.”

Jaya drew his eyes from the flames to give her his full attention. “It thinks it does, Ana. Generations ago, it seemed necessary to mark and track every man, woman and child in the world due to the diseases they might carry or the politics they might breed. Some believe it is necessary still. Some believe it necessary that every man be able to look at every other man and immediately know his relative place and relationship. It is a ... a convenience, a shortcut. If I know you are of a lower caste, I don't have to bother myself with establishing a relationship with you—that relationship is already established and defined. If I know you are higher, likewise, I need not worry myself with relationship, but only bow and offer the customary rituals of respect.”

He stopped speaking, but continued to look at her as if trying to work something out.

“But how can this happen?” she asked, and thrust her hand at him, palm up. She bored into his eyes, demanding him to give her an answer that made sense to her. “You were born to station; you are part of this world. I'm not. I'm Avasan. How can this happen to me?”

He looked away. “The laws of Mehtar don't acknowledge true castelessness. You fell through the cracks, Ana. You all fell through the cracks.”

“You are a mahesa, a Lord, a member of the Vrinda Varma. Will you tell me that nothing can be done about this injustice?”

When he looked at her again, she saw her anger reflected in his eyes. “A week ago I might have told you that,” he said. “I might have half meant it. I can't tell you that now, because I think something must be done.”

Ana nodded. At last, she thought. At last I have reached him.

“Thank you, Jaya Rai.”

“But,” he added, “it will not be done in the back ways of Kasi by a lone woman. Promise me you won't go out again, alone. Promise me you will take someone with you. Promise as a Rohina.”

This time, Ana accepted both the logic and the urgency of the request. “I promise.”

He was surprised at her easy capitulation. “No argument?”

“I try not to argue with common sense. It's foolish. I dislike looking foolish.”

Helidasa entered just then with their tea. They spoke of the Mesha party after that and said no more of conspiracies or slavery or of men who could steal lives without taking them.

Hadas was already at the breakfast table, disassembling and eating clusters of grapes, when Jaya entered and took his seat. After a moment of obvious indecision, the Avasan gave a sketchy rendition of the respectful greeting, showing Jaya the carefully tinted Sarojin raicree on his palm.

“It seems Heli has been at work again,” Jaya commented dryly.

“Did I do well?” Heli the Ever-Present carried a carafe of jambu to the table and poured the amber liquid into his glass.

“Thank you. Frighteningly well. You might consider going into business, Heli. I'm sure there would be no end to the parade of people who'd line up to have their cree altered.”

Heli's expression carried censure. “That would be illegal, Jaya Rai.”

“And this isn't?”

Her head wagged this way, then that. “This is different. This is to fix an injustice. Since our laws provide no justice, legality is irrelevant.” The dasa turned on her heel and returned to her kitchen.

Jaya pondered that momentarily but, feeling Hadas's eyes on him, he glanced up to meet the other man's gaze.

“You will not punish her?” Hadas asked.

“For what?”

“For doctoring this cree?” He held up his hand. “For speaking to you with such disrespect?”

“There was no disrespect. Heli is a firm believer in rita. Rita dictates that you should be free. Therefore, Heli considers it inappropriate for you to carry a dascree and takes it as her duty to adjust reality to suit rita. I am not a believer in rita. Therefore, I consider it inappropriate for anyone to carry dascree. And, since I have no imperatives strong enough for me to argue with Heli's impeccable sense of duty, I find myself in complete agreement with her solution.”

“Very well-put, politically speaking,” commented Hadas. “You commit to a view without committing to anything.”

Jaya did not answer that no doubt intentional jibe, but instead asked, “Has my grandmother arranged for you to contact your family?”

Hadas merely blinked at the change of subject. “Yes, thank you. They were much grateful for your assistance. They are also distressed by the disappearance of my sister. Like me, they are certain that what happened to me must have also happened to her.”

There was something sharp and watchful about the younger man's eyes and Jaya wondered (as he had often wondered recently) what was expected of him. “I will make every effort to find your sister, Hadas. Although I'm not sure what or how much I can do.”

Hadas reddened. “You are a mahesa—more than that, you are the Lord Prince of Kasi. What is there that you cannot do?”

“He cannot pry into the workings of a private business without a legitimate reason. If he did, it would almost surely draw unwanted attention and possibly censure.” Ana stood in the doorway of the morning room, half shadowed by a cascade of artful foliage.

“What are either of those things beside slavery?” Hadas asked as she moved to take her seat.

Jaya answered him. “If I am exposed as someone who subverts the law by passing das off as members of a royal family, I will be little good to your sister or any other person who was seized illegally.”

“Then, if you cannot help us, who can?” Hadas asked, temper flashing in his eyes.

The question hung awkwardly in the air as Heli re-entered the room with a large platter of tiny cakes, which she set carefully at the center of the group at the table. Her new assistant was right behind her with a tureen of fruit sauce.

Jaya realized with a start that he didn't know the girl. He gave her his most disarming smile, asking, “And who is this?”

“This is Dana Kapivastu,” said Ana, watching the child react warily to Jaya's obviously unexpected warmth. “She's helping Heli in the kitchen. Dana, this is-“

“Jaya,” he finished for her. “Where did you come from, Dana?”

“The Badan-Devaki dalali, Jaya. Your Jivinta, the Rani Sarojin, purchased me this afternoon.”

“My ... Jivinta purchased you?”

“And why not?” asked the voice of that Venerable One from the doorway. “Did you expect me to allow a child her age to be sold into the ranks of some kaladan? Not likely!” She rapped her walking stick sharply on the tiles of the entry. “Now, will someone help me to my chair, please? This old body has not yet awakened fully.”

Hadas jumped to her assistance with nimble ease, settling her reverently into a chair beside his own. She patted his hand fondly, then turned her sharp gaze to Heli. “It looks like a lovely repast you've prepared, Heli. May we see the rest of it?”

Heli colored slightly and gave a quick bow of the head before shepherding Dana back to the kitchen.

“Hadas has asked a most important question, Gauri,” Mina Sarojin said, and Jaya knew she did not use the pet name without intent. “Who is able to help him extract his sister from Niraya Hell?”

“Jivinta, I can't-“ Jaya began.

“I can,” Mina said. “If, as Ana suspects, this traffic in Avasan yevetha is according to some plan, then it is most likely that Belia Gupta was processed at Badan-Devaki just as her brother was. And if that is the case, then she will be easy to trace.”

“And your reason for doing this?” asked Jaya.

“I'm the eccentric old matriarch of a Taj House. I don't need a reason. I need only that I like Hadas's looks and wish to have his sister in my household as well. A matched set, if you will. Or perhaps my grandniece's new das is pining away for his lost kin and I cannot abide his misery or the thought of their separation. It matters very little what reason I give the dalal. He will look up Belia Gupta in his well-kept records and he will direct me to her owner, who will not refuse to cater to the whims of the old Sarojin mata ... for a sum of money.”

Hadas looked upon his benefactress with obvious admiration and gratitude. “Rani, I don't know what to say.”

“Save what you will say for your sister. She will need your words much more than I do.” The old woman looked at him with sharp, searching eye. “She will not be the girl you knew, Hadas. You must understand this and prepare yourself for it.”

Hadas lowered his eyes and colored. “It will not matter.”

“It will matter to her,” Mina told him.

“My, what a serious group,” exclaimed a new voice. “Ah! And who might this be?”

Conversation was swallowed in a silence as profound as the hush before sunrise. All eyes turned to the entry. The Rani Melantha laughed charmingly and floated into the room in a cloud of silk and scent.

“Well, don't all talk at once. Who is this lovely young man and how does he come to be among us?”

“This is Ana's cousin, Hadas,” Jaya supplied smoothly and wondered how much the Rani had overheard.

Introductions were made and stories recited. At the end of it all, the Rani shook her head and sighed. “I suppose I really should pay more attention to what goes on in my son's life. I'm so out-of-touch I don't even know who he's invited to live under our roof. Well, since the company is so charming and lively—“ Her bright eyes came to rest on Hadas. “I believe I'll change my plans and stay in for breakfast. Helidasa!”

Heli, hovering in the kitchen doorway with a bowl of rice, jumped guiltily. “Yes, Rani.”

“Do get on the vicom and send my regrets to Prakash-sama's residence. Tell him I'll see him later today.” Her glance flicked to Jaya and she smiled. “Now, I must hear more about our newfound cousin, Hadas.”

Breakfast was an ordeal. If Ana was unlettered in subterfuge, she made up for it in inventiveness. Ignoring Jaya's tightlipped watchfulness, she regaled the table with tales of snows and storms and deadly flora and fauna in the forests of the Kedar.

When Hadas observed that he was glad such things didn't figure in the relatively quiet life of a hotelier's son, he had the Rani's complete attention. “Your father owns hotels, does he?” she asked sweetly. “In the Sagara?”

“Well, actually he-“

“Uncle owns hotels and inns all over the Territories,” interjected Ana. “He winters in the Sagara and summers in the foothills of the northwestern spur of the Kedar, near our family estates.”

“Really? I don't suppose family members receive any sort of special consideration ... ”

Hadas smiled. “Family members stay free of charge at our inns.”

He learns quickly, thought Jaya, and tried not to notice how the Rani stroked the back of his hand. He caught Jivinta's grimace. She did not seem to be enjoying her breakfast any more than he was.

Jaya's comfort level took a steep downward turn when Hadas turned to Ana and said, “I had been meaning to ask, cousin, if your trip into Kasi yesterday yielded much fruit?”

Ana colored and glanced obliquely at Jaya. “None, I'm afraid.”

“Did you see our friends?” Hadas persisted.

“No, I didn't.” The words were accompanied by a look that could have frozen water.