“He? You’re talking about Sage Vamadeva, are you not?” I demanded. “Your ‘wise friend.’ You would listen to him over the testimony of your own mother?”
“No, of course not! He is not infallible—nobody is. For all his wise counsel on the matter of gods and demons, he also dislikes you for dismissing him. He advised that I should keep you in the dark. But I know you. You rode out to battle with our father without fear, and you have helped lead this kingdom. I need your aid to wage this war. Please.”
Once again, my instinct as a mother told me to reach out, to aid him. But this time I held back, for he was asking me to help him do something that I did not believe in, and that had never been my way. “Who told you that your purpose is to fight these demons?” I asked instead.
Rama paused, his mouth twisting for a moment. “He did,” he said at last, before adding in a rush, “but it makes sense. Why else would I be sent here? There is a coming tide of darkness that I must stem. I can feel the truth of it deep inside of me. At night I see it—the wars they will start, their fires consuming cities. The women and children who will flee the destruction, only to be overtaken. I have to stop it. Only I can.”
“And I suppose your sage has nothing to gain from you becoming king to wage this war. He wants you and your power, Rama, for his own ends.”
“Sage Vamadeva stayed at the ashram. I offered him a place on my Mantri Parishad and he refused. He said that it was an honor to teach me, to help me determine my divine path, and hearing of my success one day was all he wished for. But enough about him, Ma. This isn’t about him. I need your help.”
I shook my head. “I love you, Rama, and I always wish for your success. But I cannot help you wage unnecessary war. Already you have put me and your brother in harm’s way—even if unknowingly. The cost of further warfare is too high.”
Rama made a frustrated noise in the back of his throat. “I have apologized for that. And thankfully, you have both returned alive and well. You have to look beyond that, to the bigger picture.”
“Rama, you have said you value my counsel. So please consider what I am telling you.”
“You have had a long journey, Ma,” Rama said slowly. “One filled with more pain than I intended. Perhaps, when you are better rested, we might speak of this again?”
I could recognize a dismissal when I heard one.
I had not talked to Kaushalya or Sumitra since my arrival, but I could imagine how they would feel about the proceedings: At the very least, Kaushalya would be excited to see Rama ascend and Sumitra would be looking forward to the celebrations with her usual eagerness. And if Rama was somehow manipulating his own father, he had likely done the same to his mothers.
Still, Kaushalya greeted me warmly, embracing me and inquiring after Southern Kosala. Her rich purple sari was draped perfectly, the kohl around her eyes flawlessly tapered, and I was acutely aware of how disheveled I must have looked. When I gave her a few vague responses, she pulled away and held me at arm’s length. “What’s the matter, Kaikeyi?” she asked.
“I’m just tired,” I said, giving her a small smile. “There has been so much to catch up on since my arrival.”
“Yes, the coronation.” Kaushalya’s voice remained remarkably unemotional even as her eyes bore into me. She was clearly studying me for any sign of discontent.
“Oh, ignore her,” Sumitra said, stepping out from behind Kaushalya to greet me. Her smile lines were in full view as she beamed at me, and I found myself returning it without thought. “She has been lying awake at night worrying about preparations for the ceremonies. But now that you have returned to assist us, we can more than manage!”
Kaushalya nodded, gave me a stunning smile, and turned away to take a seat at the table. I entered the Binding Plane and was relieved to see that my bond with her remained strong. My bond with Sumitra, on the other hand, showed some signs of atrophy. Still, both of them were quite sincere in their affection for me.
“Do you not think it quite sudden?” I asked, busying myself with my tea.
“It is happening quickly,” Kaushalya agreed. “But Dasharath believes he is ready.”
“Dasharath is wise,” Sumitra added. “He would not make such a decision lightly. Rama is brave and kind and beloved by his people. I see no reason to delay.”
I took a sip of tea, my eyes flicking to Kaushalya from behind the cup.
“Why do you ask?” Kaushalya set her cup down and leaned forward. I did not even bother checking the Plane for I knew what I would find—simply my questioning of the timing had triggered her connection with Rama.
I shrugged. “No reason. I suppose it is all bewildering me because I have been absent so long.”
Kaushalya reclined in her seat. I detected a hint of displeasure in her eyes. “What else have I missed in the palace?” I asked quickly, nearly tripping over my words in my eagerness to change the topic.
“So much!” Sumitra angled her body toward me conspiratorially. “Has anyone told you what happened at the wedding of Arya Ravi’s daughter?”
When I got to my room, Asha was waiting for me.
“You received a message.” She waved the scroll in the air, her other hand on her hip.
I tried to grab the paper, but she pulled it out of reach. “I am your radnyi!” I said, but my reluctant laughter gave me away. It was a balm to joke with Asha, after everything that had happened.
“It has been months since you last saw me.”
“I have been busy,” I protested. “Much has happened in my absence.”
At this, she sobered. “Yes. It has.” She stepped toward me and extended the letter.
“And what do you think of it all?” I asked without looking up, opening the scroll.
She must have responded. But I did not hear her over the roar that filled my ears at Ravana’s words.
Radnyi Kaikeyi,
I have sent this to correspond with your arrival in Ayodhya, which as you may know does not come a moment too soon. I hope that you are able to put a stop to the nonsense I have heard, but I have hope—not certainty. How is Rama to become king? He is too young, and he will not deal with the pressure well.
My limbs tingled with apprehension. What if someone had intercepted this? It would have certainly bolstered Rama’s claim that Ravana’s asura blood made him dangerous, for his letter made little sense. Who was Ravana to question the decisions of Ayodhya?
But I recognized in him a parent’s concern and took a deep breath, pushing away my nerves. Surely I would react similarly to anything to do with my children.
I know there is no proof, but I have an unshakable belief that Rama mistreats my daughter. Kaikeyi, if you fail to help her, nothing will stand in my way. So far you have experienced only my kindness, but my wrath is not inconsiderable. You will not be around forever, Kaikeyi. When you are gone, will she not have more to fear?
Ravana
I nearly crumpled the letter in frustration. I did not have time for Ravana’s nonsense, nor was I inclined to indulge him after learning he had lied long ago about his heritage—in my reply, I would need to make clear that I could not change matters of governance simply because he requested so. And despite his strange belief, Sita was not being mistreated by Rama, only vying for his affection. Ravana’s grief over losing her was clouding his mind.
“Did you hear what I said?” Asha asked. “What is this?”
“It’s too much,” I muttered.
“What is? Are you listening?” She came to stand in front of me and waved her hands before my face. “Rama may be unready, but he can grow into the role. You will be his saciva, like you were his father’s, and show him the right path. It is all very sudden, yes, but you have done more difficult things.”
“Yes,” I said softly, but I was uncertain. In truth, I did not know what I could do.
I rubbed my eyes. The warmth of the room was pressing down on me. Without warning, I was standing before a holy fire, Agni’s words closing around me like a trap. It is what you will do.