Diwan-i-Khās, Bhopal (contd.)

  The King rushed inside the hall, his eyes frantically searching for Bundela. He had let his pride cloud his judgement; attempting to apprehend the lawful representative of the Emperor—with said representative already accusing him of colluding with enemies—was a pathetic idea.

  No, thought the King.

  It was suicidal.

  Rameswar would certainly report the blatant defiance of the imperial edict. Included in the report would be-undoubtedly exaggerated-mentions of the attempt to arrest an imperial messenger AND a duly appointed Jagirdar-both of which were tantamount to treason.

  What if Avinash authorises the use of force? What will I do? Will the Marathas help me? Will they reach Bhopal in time? What if Rameswar brings in reinforcements from Kanpur?

  The King reasoned that even if the Marathas came to his rescue (Indore was nearby), he would only be able to defend against a siege on Bhopal; any and all other engagements would certainly result in total annihilation.

  I would be reduced to the governor of Bhopal! And even then I would be at the mercy of the Marathas, for they would claim that they protected me! Oh lord Mahakala, may my shortsightedness be cursed!

  As his eyes looked around the hall, he saw Kamayani standing beside Alaknanda. They were holding hands and chatting with the Crown Prince.

  He was immediately reminded of what had occurred before. While being intimated by a lowly Bundela chieftain in front of his couriers was embarrassing enough, to be caught off guard and cornered by a woman of the court was something Ashutosh could never digest.

  She tore my pagdi in two! What could be more degrading than this for a royal?!

  "Is this how this wench repays our courtesy?" he muttered to himself, clinching his fist and fuming over the humiliation she had caused him.

  Kamayani, unaware of the King's presence, let go of her cousin's hand and turned toward the exit. As she began walking, a gruff voice bellowed behind her.

  "Where do you think you're going, ill-mannered wench?!"

  "T-to my chamber, Rā-"

  "INGRATE! Ill-born! Churlish wench, who the hell do you think you are to reduce my dignity to smithereens in front of that Bundela chieftain? I feed you, and you have the audacity to attack me?!"

  Kamayani opened his mouth to retort, but she was too overwhelmed to even muster up a syllable. She simply took Alaknanda by her hand and hurried away.

  The King tried to pursue her, but was stopped in his tracks by the Crown Prince.

  "Aniruddha, what do-"

  "There are more pertinent matters at hand, Father. Say what you will, Bhopal has defied the firmaan of the Emperor. Rather than going after two women who have been wronged their entire lives, go after your minister and generals."

  "Wronged their entire lives?"

  Aniruddha folded his arms in a namaste and remarked, "Do not feign ignorance, Father. You know very well whom I am referring to. Go after ministers, as I said."

  Before the King could respond, the Crown Prince bowed and bolted outside.

  Within a few moments, several eunuchs rushed inside the chamber and requested the King to accompany them to the Queen Mother's chamber. She wished to speak to him.

  "Right now?"

  "Yes, Your Majesty."

  The King sighed.

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  "Very well. I shall come."

  ***

  "Why are you being so stubborn, Kammu? Nothing was on my mind, I swear!"

  "Don't lie, Alka. No normal human being holds the sharp edge of a knife so nonchalantly!"

  "UGH!"

  Why is Alka being so impenetrable? What is she hiding?

  Could it be any worse than her own situation?

  As she sat on an ebony chair, she started to ponder. How bad was her situation? She never really saw her father in person; he was almost always accompanied by other women-women who were sometimes barely older than some of the maidservants of the Imperial Palace. She didn't like them either, for their mere presence would make her mother grimace.

  They were probably also the reason behind her already sickly mother resorting to alcohol in her later years, which often resulted in her hurling vicious slurs at her children-especially Abhijnan bhaiya, for some reason-and beating them, sometimes with sticks.

  Maybe this was why bhaiya rarely visited her even when she was bedridden.

  The only woman who treated Kamayani with a modicum of motherly tenderliness was her grandmother—the late Empress Ananya. She would recite stories from the Panchatantra to her in the flickering flame of the nightlight, and softly caress her wavy hair as she fell asleep.

  Grandmother tried teaching me Sanskrit too! I remember! Even grandfather did!

  It was bizarre why Alaknanda looked so distraught. She had both parents alive. Yes, her father could be too cold at times, but at least he was alive! He wasn't dallying with other women, was he?

  Kamayani placed an arm on her cousin's back.

  "Tell me! Why did you call your mother a concubine?!"

  "Why do you want to know?"

  "Why shouldn't I know? How can you insult the Queen like this?"

  Alaknanda kept quiet. Kamayani noticed that she was staring at the nightlight.

  "Alka-"

  "Please, Kammu, not tod-"

  "Come on, sister! Who's this late princess? I've only known the Queen since I came here as a child!"

  "Kammu, do not force me. I do not feel well."

  Kamayani was determined to know the truth. She grabbed Alaknanda's arm tightly, and asserted, "Stop beating around the bush, Alka. Tell me. Why were you trying to hurt yourself back in the Diwan? Why was the king so angry with you today?"

  Alaknanda's eyes widened with rage as she saw her cousin's reflection in the mirror placed in front of her. She had begun jiggling her arm.

  Ugh, thought Alka. This unyielding girl. I just can't, anymore. Why does she keep reminding me of-

  "Why did you call your mother a concubine-"

  "BECAUSE THAT'S WHO SHE WAS, DAMMIT! ARE YOU DUMB?!"

  Kamayani was dumbfounded. She let go of Alaknanda's arm, alarmed by her uncharacteristic aggressiveness. Her eyes slowly moved towards hers, unable to go anywhere else—as though bewitched by her flustered demeanour.

  Her eyes had started to water.

  "Alka, are you-"

  A finger, deftly placed between her parted lips, silenced her.

  "Do not speak to me about this again, Kamayani. Do you understand?"

  The princess gulped.

  "Y-yes, Alka."

  "Good. Now, now; I need to meet the Queen. I shall take my leave, cousin."

  "S-sure, Alka."

  Alka removed the finger she had placed on her cousin's lips, wiped it under her peshwaaz, wiped off the tears that had begun inundating her lower eyelids with her left palm, and departed.

  ***

  Agra Fort,

  Around two o'clock in the night

  "Pardon my recalcitrance, my overlord!"

  "You are pardoned, Rashid Khan. What brings you to Agra?"

  Rashid placed his knee upon the carpeted floor and said, "A petition from the Nawab himself, yuvarāja!"

  "The Nawab?"

  "Yes, my overlord!"

  Abhijnan's eyes raced across the room. No sentry was in sight, and it would certainly be inappropriate to seek one at this untimely hour, so he decided to receive the petition himself.

  "Give it to me, Rashid."

  "Pardon, my saviour?"

  "Cut the formalities, Rashid. Hand it over to me."

  "As you command, my lord!"

  Rashid rose slowly and inched towards the Crown Prince's chair. Without looking in his direction, he placed the scroll on a table, and bowing haphazardly, scurried away.

  Abhijnan lit a candle and blew out the matchstick. Whisking away the dust that had gathered on the scroll, he opened it and placed it against the flame.

  It was written in Persian.

  "Did grandfather not decree that official communication must be either in Sanskrit or Hindus-Oh!"

  He remembered.

  The current Emperor had abolished the decree not very long ago.

  "Of course! My father, the best friend of these Musalmans. Anyways, what has this mleccha written?"

  From

  Asaf-ud-Daula

  Nawab of Awadh

  To

  His Royal Highness

  The Crown Prince of Hindustan

  Abhijnangupta

  Abhijnan quipped, "Funny how he's able to spell my name in Persian."

  My forces have mutinied. I have been imprisoned. Asghar has forced me to sign an unlawful decree, a copy of which I am attaching herewith.

  "WHAT?!"

  "What about the herald we had sent?"

  I have heard of the herald Your Highness had sent to the city. I suspect that he has been murdered.

  Liberate me, Sire. I fear there are other powers at work.

  Abhijnan sighed.

  He muttered to himself, "It is rebellion, then."