And opened them at a familiar river.
“Sri Sarasvati,” I whispered. I looked down to find my feet submerged in the earth, and almost smiled at the sight. This, at least, felt familiar. “I have need of your divine wisdom.”
Ask. The voice came from the river, from the cool mist and the dark trees and the damp soil. It came from inside my head.
“How fares Sita?”
We will protect her, the voice said. It was not quite a response, and yet it revealed everything. I had been right to worry. The goddess thought she needed protection.
“You admit it,” I said. “That Rama was wrong in the way he acted toward her.”
Yes. It was a matter-of-fact statement, spoken in her thousand voices. But how else would she speak? The divine could not understand doubt or embarrassment or shame.
A strangled chuckle rang in the dream clearing, and it took me a moment to realize it was coming from my mouth. I wanted to weep, I wanted to attack the river with my bare hands, I wanted to scream for an eternity. But the gods were untouchable. I could not make them understand, for cruelty was human and they were not.
Still, my anger spilled out of me. “He was a child. He still is, even now. Pulled in too many directions.” My voice increased in volume, until I was shouting, letting myself rage. “You put a child in this world without guidance, but with the knowledge he was divine. What else would he do but listen to those around him? You made a young man believe he needed to be powerful and righteous. Is it not only natural he sought glory through war? He fell into the care of someone who seemed to have a ready explanation for what was happening to him, for aren’t the sages the interpreters of your word? Why wouldn’t he revere such a man? Why wouldn’t he make himself in that image?” I was not trying to excuse Rama, for he had made his choices. But none of this would have happened without the influence of the gods.
I stood there, panting, feeling drained. The river remained quiet, but neither did she send me away. I did not know what else I had expected. I wanted to ask her, Did I do the right thing? But I knew better now. Another question, a curiosity, sprang to my mind. “In the end, Rama said that what I had done disrespected the gods. That you believed women brought weakness to the world. Is it true?”
No.
It was a simple word, and yet… “If our sages were wrong, why did you remain silent?” I demanded. “You could have told him. It might have changed everything!”
We are not concerned with the rise and fall of mortals. What you want would not bring change. It is something you have never understood.
If I had not known better, I would have said she sounded almost sad. And then the river dissolved into blue wisps of mist, and I was alone in a tent in my mere mortal world.
Only when the sun had begun its descent across the sky did Yudhajit return, weariness wrapped around him like a cloak.
“What is it you came here to do?” he asked.
“Are you all right?” I asked instead. “Is everything in order in Kekaya?”
“It was a missive from Rahul,” he said, rolling his shoulders. “But I cannot further discuss such matters of state with you. Our kingdoms are at war.”
“They didn’t have to be,” I said, but before we could begin arguing about whose fault this was, I pressed on. “Shatrugna leads the Kosalan army, and Bharata is with him. They do not intend to fight you.”
“Suing for peace is useless. Even if Bharata were to accept the throne right now…” He trailed off. “I’m sorry. I don’t think the people would accept it.”
“They haven’t come to make peace. They intend to sneak into your camp at night and burn it all to the ground. It will be a massacre.”
Yudhajit stared at me for a moment, then started laughing. “The Kosala army would never do anything of the kind, with all their rules about noble warfare,” he said when he had caught his breath. “They must have been joking with you, knowing that you would not understand the ways of war.”
“You trained me in the ways of war.” I rose to my feet, trying to inflect my words with steel. “We fought together, I rode into battle with my husband, and even years later I can still wield a weapon as well as any soldier.”
Yudhajit held up his hands in mock surrender. “Yes, you’re quite experienced.” The for a woman hung heavy in the air between us.
“Please, Yudhajit. What is the harm in taking me seriously?”
“It sounds like you want me to keep my men awake all night, or even move the camp. And I have no way of knowing that what you say is true. What if you are trying to make my army tired and weak so that tomorrow morning we are ripe for your sons to cut down?”
“I am your sister,” I said. Once, I knew such accusations from Yudhajit would have caused me to cry, but now I felt empty. My own son did not recognize me as his mother. What did it matter if my brother thought this of me?
“And you are their mother,” he said. “I appreciate you coming here, but it is clear that you are not in control of these situations.”
“At least post a few scouts,” I argued. I had expected some level of disbelief, and now I used my prepared compromise. “You know where the Kosalan soldiers are. Send some riders with fast horses. A few men will not change the outcome of a battle tomorrow. You are a good commander, you know you should at least be cautious. You told me to never take my eyes off the enemy. Surely you will take your own advice.”
He pressed his lips together. I entered the Binding Plane and found only a small thread of blue between us, a sad remnant of the brilliant bond we had once shared.
My words would have to be enough.
After some interminable minutes, Yudhajit nodded. “Very well. You will stay here tonight. And if this was some sort of ruse, I will not be pleased.”
I recognized in his words a threat, and for the first time I wondered whether perhaps Kaushalya had successfully persuaded Shatrugna away from this plan. When the morning came… no. Any punishment for being wrong, any humiliation or pain would be more than worth it so long as there was no massacre. I gave a sharp nod. Against my protests, Yudhajit had me escorted to a small tent at the edge of camp and posted a guard outside.
With nothing else to do, I sat on the cold ground and began my wait.
CHAPTER FORTY
THE HOURS AFTER THE sun set felt like an eternity. I shifted uncomfortably as my body froze, and rose to stretch periodically, massaging out the aches. The camp slowly fell silent, and when I could bear it no longer, I poked my head out of my tent flap. The guard next to my tent had fallen asleep.
The wind pricked gooseflesh along my arms, and a chill of foreboding wormed its way down my spine. I was at the very outskirts of camp, near the forest, and farthest from where Kosala’s armies would attack. The moon was a small sliver in the sky, and I could see barely twenty paces in front of me.
I took a few hesitant steps toward the center of camp, and this time, when the wind blew, it carried the scent of smoke.
No.
I broke into a run, and it seemed that at the same time the camp erupted. Screams and clangs rang out, and then a gout of flame leapt up toward the horizon.