It was clear that I had no power to help them. And yet, how could I live with myself if I did not try?
Sitting up seemed an insurmountable task. I lay there for another minute and imagined what Bharata might say when he returned. You forced me to do this, he would probably tell me. Or, How could I have done something like this? I will never be whole again.
That final thought was what stirred my cold limbs to movement. This would be my final attempt to set things right. After this, I promised myself, I would never interfere again. I would live out the rest of my days in seclusion. But I could not sit back now.
I wrapped myself in my warmest cloak and began to fill my traveling bag, my mind shaking off the weeks of cobwebs as my hands worked. Riding fast and alone, I could outpace our army’s daylong head start even if I kept off the road. I could sleep in the forest and arrive in time to warn Yudhajit. Our bond had frayed, but I was still his sister, and well respected in Kekaya besides. My years of practice in cajoling men into listening to me would serve me well now. I would convince him of Shatrugna’s plan. It was a betrayal of my son, but it was an act of loyalty for my people in both kingdoms—I was saving my sons from their worst impulses and from Kekaya’s inevitable revenge. This war would not be a slaughter. I could do at least that much.
“Do you need something?” Asha asked as I entered the main room. I had not realized she was sleeping in my room this night, but a single candle was still lit, and from her position on the floor it appeared as though I had woken her. Asha had taken to occasionally sleeping in my chambers, when she was particularly worried about me. Manthara might have too, if her old age had not made it difficult for her to sleep on the floor.
“No, Asha. Please go back to sleep. I am sorry for disturbing you.”
Her eyes darted to my attire as she rose to her feet. “Where are you going?”
“Where do you think?”
Asha smiled slightly, her face looking young in the flickering candlelight. With her hair in two thick braids, I could remember clearly our first meeting—another lifetime ago, on the eve of another battle. She bent and passed me a large bundle from next to her pallet. “There is food enough for a weeklong journey in here. Manthara helped me pack it.” Next, she removed a scabbard. “And here is your sword.” She hesitated, then threw her arms around me. I returned her embrace, and we parted with shining eyes.
“Godspeed, Radnyi.”
I laughed then, and the rough sound of it startled me. “The gods will have nothing to do with it.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
I ARRIVED NEAR THE outskirts of Yudhajit’s camp just as the sun set on the sixth day. Listening to the faint clamor, I decided to sleep and approach my brother in the morning, better rested to make my case. I had set a punishing pace, and my body ached from the abuse. I considered praying to Nidra to help me—but somehow, after the dream she had given me, I could not bring myself to ask for her aid.
In the sleepy hours before dawn, I tied my horse to a nearby tree and snuck past the bleary-eyed guards without much difficulty. While I had no bonds with them to manipulate, if one seemed close to spotting me, I simply tugged on their bond with another soldier, causing them to turn away.
Yudhajit’s tent was not particularly opulent, but it stood out at the center of camp. I slipped in through the back to find my brother alone and asleep. He had entered my tent the same way once, a lifetime ago, seeking adventure in the forests.
For a moment, I just watched him, his chest rising and falling, and the kernel of love I always kept for him expanded in my chest. We had been so happy. He had been carefree, quick to laugh and play. But now he looked tired and worried, even in his sleep, and my failure was responsible for that in no small part.
It took me several minutes to move from my position, for I wanted to preserve this moment, where we could both simply be together. When I woke him, I knew, I would have to face his anger. I stepped toward him, and the soft sound of my footfall startled him awake. He sat half up on his pallet, his hand reaching for his sword. When he realized it was me, he relaxed slightly, then stiffened again. “Kaikeyi. Have you come to kill me?”
Of all the possibilities I had envisioned, this reaction was not one of them. “Kill you?” I echoed blankly. He studied my face in the dim light, then dropped his sword and stood.
“Why are you here, then?”
“To warn you,” I said. “You and your men are in danger.”
Yudhajit raised one eyebrow. “What is this, Kaikeyi? What game are you playing?”
“I’m not playing any game. Shatrugna and Bharata—”
“You sat next to me and convinced me that you would ensure Bharata became king. And then to discover your own son hates you so much that he renounced the throne?” Yudhajit shook his head, unseeing or uncaring that every one of his words was a thorn in my heart. “So have you come here hoping to regain favor in Kekaya? It will not happen.”
“No,” I said firmly, trying not to let my growing frustration show. I took a step forward and grabbed his arm, tugging him around to look at me. “I am trying to keep you alive.”
Yudhajit met my eyes, his expression growing serious as he scanned my face. I thought, for a second, he might actually hear me out, but then he laughed slightly and extricated himself from my grasp. “So you think I am such a weak and feeble warrior that your soft people will defeat me?”
“It’s not going to be a battle,” I said, and I was about to explain the rest when a soldier burst into the tent. He stopped short at the sight of me, his glance darting from me to Yudhajit, and I realized this young man had no idea who I was. He probably thought Yudhajit and I were—
“Radnyi Kaikeyi of Kosala.” Yudhajit’s words tumbled out of him like we were children again, caught doing something mischievous. “What is it?”
The soldier seemed to remember his purpose then, because he straightened and yelped, “A messenger came from your brother, Prince Rahul. He said it was urgent and he needs a response right away.”
“All right.” Yudhajit was already dressing himself, strapping on his sword, and I knew my opportunity was slipping away.
“Yudhajit, please—” I began, but he cut me off with a sharp nod.
“Stay here. I am going to have one of my men guard you so you cannot cause any trouble. We can discuss this later.” And with that he was gone.
I gave him several minutes’ lead, then attempted to sneak out the back way. I was greeted by a guard who immediately stood in my path. So Yudhajit had been thorough. “Where are you going?” he asked.
I thought quickly. “I tied my horse not far from here, and I need to tend to him.” I could see the conflict play out on the guard’s face, for we would never allow our horses to suffer in Kekaya.
At last he said, “Very well, let’s go.” It was the only reasonable thing for him to do, but still I was disappointed. As we walked to the clearing, I tried to make small talk with him, attempting to create a bond between us. By the time we reached my horse and belongings, I had succeeded in spinning only the smallest thread, nowhere near what I needed to successfully manipulate my release—if I was even able to stomach using the Plane.
As I untied my horse, I considered whether I should make an escape. But what use was that? If I injured this man, Yudhajit would never listen to me. And if I ran, then I could not warn him. Resigned, I returned to the camp. The guard brought me food and water, and I sat in Yudhajit’s tent cross-legged, waiting.
My thoughts drifted to Sita. I wondered how she fared, what the exile had brought her. She was strong, but I worried about her now knowing she would be trapped between Ravana and Rama, caught in their great war. But I was also tired, weary to my bones. I closed my eyes with Sita on my mind—