“I told you not to!” Bao scowled at him. “Now you have no choice.” He cupped his hands together. “Come, I will help you into the saddle. We’ll tie you in place. Moirin, there is rope in my packs.”
I squeezed past Lady to retrieve it, and together Bao and I lashed Hasan Dar into his saddle.
Off we set once more, trailing guards and servants and the spoils of war, the Rani’s commander lurching in the saddle behind us.
It is not a journey I would care to repeat, ever.
But we succeeded in emerging from the maze by midday, our company spreading out around the base of the mountain. Although the wounded were groaning in their litters, all had survived. Relief suffused Bao’s features.
“We should keep going,” I murmured to him when the last stragglers stumbled out of the maze. “We need to reach that plateau before night if we want to make a proper camp-and I think we do.”
He nodded, gazing upward. “One moment.”
From this vantage point, the stone fortress was hidden; but it was there. Kurugiri. The spirits of generations of rulers styling themselves the Falconer haunted it, sending assassins to do their bidding. The vengeful spirit of the Spider Queen haunted it: the dark lady Jagrati, despising the world and speaking bitter truth to it.
I watched Bao.
“Done,” he said softly. “It is done. I am done with this place, forever.”
SEVENTY-SIX
After Kurugiri, we got Hasan Dar into a litter, where he tossed and turned, restless with fever.
We made camp on the arid plateau, which seemed a paradise after sleeping on the mountainside. Tents were pitched against the worst of the cold, pegs pounded into the hard earth. Supplies were shared, our mounts fed and watered, albeit in a miserly fashion.
Bao examined Hasan Dar’s wound and found it red and inflamed, flesh swelling around the stitches. “Stupid man,” he muttered. “I told you not to ride. Did you think I didn’t know what I was talking about?”
The commander’s reply was incoherent.
“Listen to me!” Bao slapped his cheek lightly. “The Rani Amrita needs you; her son, Ravindra, needs you. If they are going to change the world, they need a strong arm beside them. So stay with us, huh?”
Hasan Dar shivered. “I will try.”
“Try harder,” Bao said ruthlessly.
For a mercy, Hasan was the only one of the injured to have taken a serious turn for the worse. The others would endure.
“Pride,” I murmured. “It will be his downfall if he does not survive. Take it to heart, my magpie.”
Bao gave me a sidelong look. “Is that a warning, Moirin?”
“No.” I shrugged, too tired to argue. “I don’t know, mayhap it is. I only know you would have insisted on the same in his place.”
“Mayhap,” Bao mused. “I will think on it.”
Downward.
The air thickened and grew richer the next day, as we wound our way out of the heights, wound our way toward the meadow that lay beneath the Sleeping Calf Rock. I watched gladness settle onto the faces of the servants of Kurugiri. And two days later, as we descended into the fairy-tale valley of Bhaktipur with its warm air and lush, verdant growth, that gladness gave way to wonder.
“Is this real?” the steward Govind asked in awe.
“Oh, yes.” I smiled at his expression. “And the Rani Amrita has promised that all of you will be well cared for here.”
“It’s been so long!” Sudhakar breathed. “I’d forgotten how lovely it was. Only I wonder…” His brows furrowed. “How shall I live here?”
I hadn’t thought about the implications of this homecoming for him. Sudhakar was one of the no-caste lads that Jagrati had taken from the untouchable camp outside the city, the only one to have survived. Leaning over in the saddle, I laid my hand over his. “Don’t worry, Sudhakar. The Rani will take care of you, too.”
Sudhakar flinched away from my touch and didn’t respond. In my mind, I heard the soft, tearing rasp of Jagrati’s laughter. The habits of a lifetime died hard.
That and Hasan Dar’s deteriorating condition were the two shadows that lay over our return to Bhaktipur. Our procession was spotted making its way along the valley, and by the time we reached the outskirts of the city, there was a royal reception awaiting us with Pradeep and a company of guards, and the Rani Amrita herself standing before her palanquin, glowing in a purple sari embroidered with gold, Ravindra resplendent beside her in a saffron tunic and loose breeches, a purple turban on his head.
Both of them were smiling so brightly, it made my heart ache.
Bao and I dismounted to approach on foot. When we were yet a few paces away, Amrita laughed and ran forward, flinging her arms around my neck and kissing me. “Oh, Moirin! I am so glad you’re here. I hated leaving you in that place.” She glanced around, past Bao and Ravindra exchanging bows and grinning at one another. “Is everyone here? Is everyone safe?”
“Everyone is here,” I said. “But Hasan Dar is very ill, my lady.”
“Ah, no!” Spotting his litter, Amrita hurried over and dropped to her knees beside it. Pradeep hurried after her with a length of silk for her to kneel on, but she ignored it, reaching into the litter to take Hasan’s hand. “No, no, my friend,” she chided him. “This is no good! You must get well.”
His eyelids cracked open and a faint smile lifted his parched lips. “Now that you have commanded it, I’m sure I shall, highness.”
Amrita rose. “Let us make haste to the palace,” she said to Pradeep. “Did you tell the physician to meet us in the barracks?”
He bowed. “I did, highness.”
“Good.” She gave a brisk nod, then turned to address the servants of Kurugiri. “If you wish, places for all of you will be found in my household. I find we are quite shorthanded since taking in the Falconer’s harem.”
All save one of them looked profoundly relieved. I don’t think they had let themselves believe until that moment.
Only Sudhakar was not gazing at the Rani with gratitude. He was not gazing at the Rani at all, but kneeling and touching his brow to the ground. “Highness?” he asked in a muffled voice. “You know what I am.”
“Yes,” Amrita said firmly. “You are the young man who assisted Bao-ji tirelessly in tending to my injured warriors. You are the young man who offered to tend to the dead with honor.” Stooping, she put her hand on his shoulder and gave it a little shake. “And there is a place in my household for you, too. Perhaps you would like to be my physician’s apprentice, eh?”
A great shudder racked him, and he gave a single hoarse sob. The Rani straightened. Sudhakar knelt upright, gazing at her lovely face. She smiled at him. Bowing his head once more, he reached out with trembling hands and touched her bare feet in respect and gratitude. “Thank you, highness,” he whispered.
In my mind, Jagrati’s dark laughter fell silent.
“Yes, yes.” Amrita patted his head. “Only let us hurry, shall we? For Hasan Dar’s sake.”
Sudhakar leapt to his feet, his face shining. “Yes, highness!”
It wasn’t really possible to hurry through the crowded, narrow streets of Bhaktipur, especially with hundreds of folk turned out to observe the royal procession and the last of the returning heroes, but we did our best. When they saw the litters and the injured men within them, the Bhaktipuri people called out blessings, laying garlands of dried flowers on them. By the time we reached the palace, Hasan Dar was half-buried beneath a carpet of blossoms.
One by one, the wounded guards were transported by their bearers into the barracks. Amrita gazed after them, worried.
“Do you think they’ll be all right, Bao-ji?” Ravindra asked. “All of them?”