The rani sighed. She turned her attention to the women on the maidan, and over the next hour, I studied the other Durgavasi’s skills. They were adept at archery, but none of them hit the center of the target every time. The bows the women were using were made from yew, which I knew to be extraordinary. One of the wealthiest men in our village once purchased this wood from an Englishman in the British-controlled city of Bombay and chose Father to make a bow with it. My father asked me to test the finished weapon. I was fourteen, and knew that I was using something truly superior. I watched as Rajasi missed her target entirely, and I glanced to my left to see the rani’s reaction. She simply raised her eyebrows.
The early morning mist began to roll back to reveal the farthest corners of the maidan. Temple bells sounded from the city below, then the raja’s soldiers started pouring out of their barracks like bees from a flooded hive, dressed in the crisp red and gold uniforms that Kahini had said were given to them by the British, who oversaw the raja’s army. Some stopped to watch the women practicing. I thought the rani would order them away, but she allowed them to remain. Some of the men stood for fifteen or twenty minutes, taking long, slow drags on cigarettes. Then Sundari ordered more archery targets to be set, and I felt a familiar ache in my hands.
“Sita, come and join us,” Sundari said.
The rani and her advisers both turned to me, and I knew what was expected. I immediately rose and pressed my hands together in namaste. “I am deeply honored by your request,” I said. “However, I see now that I am not worthy of being in the presence of such skilled women.”
Sundari glanced at the rani. “Sita, I am asking you to show the rani your skills,” Sundari said. “In fact, I am asking you to show us all. If you would please follow me, I will give you my bow.”
But I was determined to do as Kahini said. The other women had moved to the edge of the maidan, and to be sure they all heard, I said loudly, “I was brazen to believe that I could be part of such an elite group. But with your permission, I will endeavor to watch and learn, and when the captain feels I am ready, I will be honored to take a place on the field.”
There was a moment of silence. Then the rani spoke.
“The captain feels you are ready now.”
“It is a great honor, Your Highness, but I am not ready.”
I had done exactly as Kahini had instructed, but like a changing wind, I could sense a shift in the mood on the maidan. Soon the rani was standing.
“Fetch the Dewan who brought this girl here.”
Sundari’s face reflected deep disappointment, and I could see Jhalkari, standing beside her, shaking her head. It was only then that I realized what Kahini had done.
I willed myself not to cry. But I can tell you that those moments, waiting there under the tent for the Dewan to appear, were the longest of my life. I searched for Kahini on the field, and this time, I saw malice in her perfect face. Yet when our eyes met, she showed no recognition of her role in this.
The Dewan arrived, looking as if someone had woken him from his sleep. When he realized that I was the cause of his early morning disturbance, his brows furrowed. He bowed at the waist before the rani and made the gesture of namaste. Then she took him aside and they conversed for several minutes in quiet tones. During that time, I tried to keep my eyes on the ground, but every so often I would sneak a glance at Sundari, who was now watching me with a curious expression.
After what seemed like an eternity, the rani and the Dewan approached.
“The Dewan swears that this girl is everything he promised,” the rani said to Sundari. But it was clear from her tone that she no longer believed him. “He also maintains that she is the best archer he has ever seen. Better than Kahini.”
At this, Sundari looked in my direction. “Without excuse.”
I bowed as low I could. “Of course. I will take the field at once.”
Sundari lent me her bow and quiver. As we walked together toward the maidan, she said in a voice that only I could hear, “The rani says you have three shots. I say you have one. Because nothing will replace this first impression now.”
She brought me to the red line in the grass where the other women had been standing. Then she stepped back and I was the only one on the field. Soldiers were gathering to watch, and I became conscious of the fact that I was once again the morning’s entertainment.
The yew bow was extremely powerful. Like the others, it was strung with horsehair. A strong arm was necessary to draw it, and I tested it several times before reaching back into the leather quiver and knocking the first arrow. Then something extraordinary happened. Instead of thinking about the target, or the growing number of onlookers, or even the rani, I heard a line from Richard II as if Father was reading it to me: The very beadsmen learn to bend their bows. Of double-fatal yew against thy state. I have been doing this since I was a child, I thought. There was nothing to fear.
I released the arrow.
It pierced the air and struck the red center of the target with a heavy thud. The second arrow splintered the first, and the third arrow shattered that one. I lowered the bow and turned to see the rani’s reaction. She was pleased. Next to her, the Dewan looked relieved. But Kahini turned to make a comment to the horse-faced girl called Rajasi who I knew had repeatedly missed the target entirely during practice.
Sundari approached me. I returned her bow and quiver. “Sundari-ji, I would like to explain—”