PRINCE IN EXILE (26 page)

The three daiimaas exchanged a look. Kausalya caught the tenseness in their manner and the fearfulness in their eyes.
They’re scared witless
. Susama-daiimaa spoke for them. 

‘She is a serving girl, my rani. She works in the Second Queen’s palace. But mostly she serves … ‘ The daiimaa looked around at her companions for support. 

‘Whom does she serve, Susama? Speak freely, you need not have any anxiety when addressing me.’ 

The old woman nodded gratefully. ‘She serves Mantharadaiimaa.’ 

Kausalya frowned. ‘Manthara. Then … ‘ She stopped, unable to complete the thought aloud.
Then she might be the one Sumitra spoke of, the serving girl she saw in the hidden chamber where Sumitra too was kept prisoner that day. Then again
, she thought,
Manthara might have a dozen serving girls running errands. I must learn more before I say something that I cannot withdraw from gracefully
. The memory of the humiliating scene at the welcoming ceremony was still fresh in her mind. Poor Sumitra had retired to her chambers and hadn’t been seen since.
Should I have Sumitra roused? No, not just yet. Let me find out a few more things first
. 

Aloud she said, ‘Why is she in this state?’ 

Susama replied haltingly, ‘Rani, we were watching the royal procession approach the palace when we happened to see her, running out of the palace gates like a madwoman.’ 

One of the other daiimaas piped up in a thick southern accent. ‘She all but came beneath the bigfoot, she did. Running wild.’ 

Susama went on, ‘She fell in the mud and must have got the cut on her forehead when she fell. We were called by the palace guards to go fetch her and take her into the palace. So we did, all three of us, and it was all we could manage to drag her away from the maharaja’s elephant.’ 

‘No,’ said the third daiimaa, silent until now. ‘It was Prince Rama’s elephant she was after, I tell you again. Prince Rama.’ 

Susama nodded. ‘Or perhaps it was the rajkumars’, I don’t know for sure. I was too shocked at the time. You see, milady, at the time we went out into the avenue to fetch her, we all three of us,’ indicating her companions, ‘never thought she was a serving girl at all. We thought for certain she was—’ 

‘Rani Kaikeyi, Second Queen of Ayodhya,’ Kausalya said quietly. 

The southern-accented daiimaa reared back in surprise. All three of them stared up at the First Queen with identical expressions of shock. Susama-daiimaa touched her hand at once to the amulet hanging around the withered folds of her neck. 

‘Isn’t that who you thought she was at first?’ Kausalya asked gently. ‘Rani Kaikeyi running wild in the streets, probably distraught over some perceived slight, or simply drunk and out of her senses? It wouldn’t be the first time, after all, would it?’ 

‘Indeed, no, my queen,’ replied Susama, her breath coming faster and heavier now. The daiimaa still had her hand on the amulet, clutching it tightly. ‘We have often tended to her at such times. Rani Kaikeyi is … how shall we say it … ‘ 

‘High-strung,’ said one of the others. 

‘Aye,’ Susama agreed. ‘And the way she was calling out, the things she was saying, her very voice too … it was all exactly Rani Kaikeyi to the core. So we naturally took her to her own palace, calling to her serving girls, all of whom had abandoned their posts to see the parade.’ 

‘They will do that at such historic times,’ the south-accented one said apologetically. ‘It’s not to be condoned, of course, but it’s not worth punishing harshly either, my rani.’ 

Susama continued. ‘But after we brought her into the palace and sat her down on a diwan, only then did we see her … ‘ glancing at the others with that same fearful look, ‘change somehow. As if some invisible hand were re-drawing her features to make them less like Kaikeyi and more like … ‘ gesturing at the woman asleep on the diwan, ‘like the serving maid she truly is. It happened very quickly, in a trice, but we all saw it, and we all knew that something sorcerous had occurred. The only thing was, we didn’t know what exactly had happened.’ 

‘Aye,’ said one of the others, muttering a two-line sloka from the Devi’s Kavach, a common prayer of protection recited daily by women, literally ‘Goddess’s Shield’. ‘Devil’s work it was, though,’ she added. 

‘What did you do next?’ Kausalya asked. She motioned to the daiimaas to take a seat, taking one herself as she did so. They elected to squat on the floor on their haunches, as daiimaas were wont to do. ‘After you saw Rani Kaikeyi change into this … serving maid? You couldn’t have left her in the Second Queen’s palace then, could you?’ 

‘No, we couldn’t, my lady,’ Susama said, giving Kausalya a grateful look for being so understanding. ‘For she clearly was not the Second Queen, not any more at least. So we took her to the witch’s chambers—’ She stopped, a hand covering her mouth reflexively. ‘I mean, Manthara-daiimaa’s chambers.’ 

‘That’s all right,’ Kausalya said, gesturing to the woman to go on.
I think she’s a witch as well
. 

‘But there we had another setback.’ The old woman’s eyes flashed with something akin to anger. After all, she might be a daiimaa by profession, but by birth she was still a Kshatriya, even if only a Kshatriya serving other Kshatriyas. A trace of her birth-pride still burned in her. ‘The hunchbacked daiimaa refused to recognise this woman as her maid; she said that she had never seen her before in her life, and that we were feeble-minded to think that she was her servant.’ She shook her head, remembering. ‘She said many other words besides.’ 

‘Foul words all, for no songbirds sing in a dragon’s cave,’ said one of the others. 

‘So we took the poor wretch to our own chambers, and tried to put her to bed. But about an hour or two ago she woke with a scream that near killed us with fright, and when we fetched a lamp to her bedside, she began shuddering and shaking like a thing possessed.’ 

Susama paused, glancing fearfully at the woman lying unconscious on the diwan. ‘After we calmed her down, she began speaking. And once started, she could not seem to stop. Like a waterfall, she gushed words. She was not speaking to us so much as speaking things that weighed heavily upon her young heart, poor soul. She spoke of terrible things, my rani.’ The daiimaa looked up hesitantly at Kausalya. ‘Horrible things that make us ashamed even to repeat them.’ 

‘Tell me,’ Kausalya said reassuringly. ‘Tell me everything. I must know.’ 

Susama nodded and glanced at the other daiimaas as if to say,
See? I told you she would listen
. After a moment to clear her throat, she went on. ‘From the torrent that came out of her mouth, we understood some but not all she said. One thing that recurred several times was how she served Manthara, Manthara, Manthara.’ 

‘Every third word she said was the witch’s name,’ said the southern daiimaa, looking as if she would rather spit than speak the hunchback’s name herself. 

‘She spoke of foul things done in the dark of night. Of visits to tantriks. Of deals struck over silver coin. Of Brahmin orphans stolen from ashrams. Of rites performed in praise of the Dark Lord.’ She looked up hesitantly at the First Queen again. ‘Balidaans!’ 

Sacrificial offerings
. Kausalya’s blood ran cold. So, the things Sumitra had claimed to have seen, the secret pooja room with the yagna chaukat still filled with ash and half-burned human bones, that was all true. The old crone was offering human child sacrifices to the Lord of Lanka right here under this very roof!
Sri have mercy on our souls
. 

‘And at the very end, when she was winding down, like a child at the end of a long night of fevers and chills, she spoke of the evening of the procession, this past evening itself. Of how she had been trapped still in the hidden chamber, half starved and out of her mind with delirium and sickness for the past several days – she had lost count how many days – when suddenly she found herself free and at large. Only this time she was upon the street, in our clutches, being dragged towards the palace. And then she understood what had happened, for she knew enough of the witch’s workings to follow her evil schemes.’ 

Susama paused to cough twice, hoarsely, clearing her throat. One of the other daiimaas offered her a bud of clove, pointing to her throat, but Susama shook her head in refusal. She went on after clearing her throat once more. 

‘She believed that Manthara had somehow projected the Second Queen’s soul into this body,’ pointing at the serving girl asleep on the diwan, ‘and had taken Rani Kaikeyi’s own body and used it for some nefarious deed. She didn’t know what that might be, but she did know that during the time she was running about the street shouting madly, she
was
Rani Kaikeyi. Even below the consciousness of the rani’s aatma she was still herself, present in that body. The rani’s presence in her physical form caused her to look almost like Kaikeyi-maa, transforming her very flesh and features, but after a while she could not sustain that bhes-bhav and so she reverted to her natural form …
this
form.’ 

Kausalya nodded to show she understood. ‘During that time, when Rani Kaikeyi’s soul inhabited her body, where was Rani Kaikeyi’s own body? Did she know that?’ 

The daiimaa shook her head. She glanced at the other old wet nurses. Both of them looked blank as well. ‘No, my rani. She did not say.’ 

‘And this nefarious deed for which Manthara needed Kaikeyi’s body, did she give any hint what it might have been? After all, when Kaikeyi’s aatma was transplanted into her body, she might have been able to learn that from Rani Kaikeyi perhaps?’ 

‘All she said, my queen, and I quote her as well as I can recall, is this: “Kaikeyi goes to do the Dark Lord’s work now.”’ 

Kausalya stared at the daiimaa. 

TWENTY-ONE 

Dasaratha took a step towards Kaikeyi. His hands were shaking with rage. His entire body felt as if it had been set on fire, and the fire threatened to engulf and consume him completely. 

‘You witch!’ he roared. ‘You drugged and duped me somehow, using what vile sorcery I know not. That is why I was not aware of anything we said or did. You tricked me like an asura in human guise. Sumitra and Kausalya were right. I should have cast you into the royal dungeons rather than hear a word you spoke!’ 

She stood her ground calmly. Her expression hadn’t changed a whit. When she spoke, her voice was just as composed as before. ‘Is that how you will honour your vows, raje? Is this how you fulfil your promises to one who saved your life not once but twice, and risked her own life both times?’ 

He faltered. ‘What promises, what vows? I made no vows to you, you asura in mortal guise! I made those oaths to a mortal woman. You are no more mortal than the King of Lanka himself!’ 

Her eyes gleamed darkly. ‘Did you not see me touch the guru’s feet earlier tonight? Did he cast me off with a Brahman mantra and declare me anything but that which I am? Do you doubt the evidence of your preceptor’s divine intuition and vidya, raje? 

He crushed his own hand into a fist. The bones of his knuckles crackled. ‘How do I know that the woman I saw is the same one that stands before me? I have seen much sorcery at work these past few weeks. I trust no one and nothing any more.’ 

She was silent for a long moment. Finally, she seemed to arrive at some inner conclusion. Her silence and calm unsettled him more than any amount of shouting or hysterics would have. A seed of doubt planted within his heart began to grow steadily, sprouting roots.
What if she is Kaikeyi? I did promise her two boons once. What if she is telling the truth? 

‘Very well,’ she said at last. ‘I respect your anxiety. These are warlike times again, and I understand the pressures and strains of kingship during a time of war better than any other woman. Did I not witness the manner in which the last asura war crushed my own father’s spirit and resolve? And when the other Arya nations threw up their hands in despair and pleaded their inability to send their forces to our aid, did I not see with what terrible self-affliction my father fought tooth and nail to keep the asura wolves from our door? Yes, I understand warlike times. Your anxiety is justified, Ayodhya-naresh. Go on, then, set your mind at rest. Call Guru Vashishta this very instant and prove to yourself for the second time tonight that I am indeed Kaikeyi, your queen, wife and long-time lover. Go on then, for our business here is by no means done, and already the moonless night creeps steadily towards the new dawn.’ 

Dasaratha stared at her, his anger fading in sharp, hot pulses. Would an asura speak thus? He recalled the twice-lifer that had attacked him in his own sabha hall. Ravana, come in the garb of Vajra lieutenant Bheriya. That one had been quick to take advantage of his isolation and weakness, wasting no time on mere talk and rhetoric. Again the doubt assailed him. What if this really
was
Kaikeyi? 

She read his indecision upon his face. ‘What stays your hand, raje? Why do you not unbar the door and call for your attendants and guards? Why do you not send for the guru at once?’ 

She took a step towards him, her payals tinkling melodiously, incongruously. ‘Could it be that you harbour a doubt yet? A suspicion that I might actually be who I appear to be in truth?’