Rebel Queen (16 page)

Chapter Eleven

A
s the rani’s belly grew larger and we made fewer trips outside the Panch Mahal, I had more time to socialize with the other Durgavasi. I spent as little time as possible with Kahini and Rajasi. And since Heera and Priyala were nearly ten years older than I was, I didn’t have much in common with them. But Moti became a good friend, and Kashi and Mandar, who were always with each other, were entertaining as well. In fact, just to see Kashi and Mandar together could make me laugh, since Kashi was unbelievably petite, and Mandar could not have been larger unless she’d been born a man.

Their personalities were extremely different as well. All Kashi ever talked about were children, while the only thing Mandar appeared interested in was training. I have no idea how they came to be such close friends, but to see them, you would have thought they had known each other all of their lives.

“Be honest,” Kashi said to me one day while the five of us were sitting in the courtyard—myself, Jhalkari, Moti, Kashi, and Mandar. “If you could marry and have children tomorrow, would you do it?”

I looked up at the clouds, which were threatening to rain at any minute, and shrugged. “I don’t think about it,” I said.

“But if you had to think about it,” Kashi pressed. “Would you give up your freedom as a Durgavasi to marry?”

“Not me,” Mandar said, and Kashi shushed her.

“I already know what you would do. Moti, what would you do?”

Moti put down the laddu that was about to make its way into her mouth. “
Me?
”

“Yes, if you can stop eating for long enough to answer.”

She giggled. “I would marry, and spend all of my time in the kitchen.”

Kashi rolled her eyes playfully. “I guess we don’t have to ask Jhalkari.”

“Yes, she’s the only lucky one,” Moti said.

But Kashi hesitated. “Still . . . no children.”

The five of us settled into an uneasy silence.

“What if you could give up your life in the Durgavas?” Kashi asked.

“I’m like Sita,” Jhalkari told her. “I never think about it.”

“On purpose?”

“Of course on purpose,” Jhalkari told her. “What’s the point?”

Mandar nodded. “We’re all allowed to go home to see our families. That’s more than many of the raja’s soldiers get.”

“Only ten days now,” Kashi said. “What are you going to do when you get home?”

“Eat my fill of kheer,” Moti said.

“I want to see my niece,” Kashi replied. “She’ll be two years old the day I visit.”

I pictured a miniature version of Kashi, with soft brown curls and big eyes.

“And what are you going to do?” Mandar asked me.

I pictured my house in Barwa Sagar and my eyes instantly welled with tears. “Wake up next to my sister,” I said, “and hear about everything I’ve missed these four months. See Father’s new carvings.”

“He’s a carpenter?” Mandar asked.

“And an artist. He carved the image of Durga that Kahini broke.”

For the most part, none of us mentioned Kahini, for the same reason most of us tried not to think about what life would be like if we were somehow made wealthy and found ourselves free to quit the Durga Dal. Because really, what was the point?

“It’s a shame she’s so close to the rani,” Mandar said. “I bet she’s in the rani’s chamber right now.”

We hadn’t seen either the rani or Kahini all afternoon after Sundari had told us to spend the remainder of the day in leisure.

“Well, in ten days,” Kashi said, “we’ll be with people who’ve never even heard of her.”

But that wasn’t how it happened.

T
he next day, just as we were leaving for our walk to Mahalakshmi Temple, Sundari took me aside. “Thank you for volunteering,” she said. “I know how difficult it is to be away from your family, so I understand the sacrifice.”

I didn’t understand what she was thanking me for. “What?”

“Your offer to remain with the rani over Durga Puja. One Durgavasi has to stay behind and it was very kind of you to volunteer. And of course, the rani is grateful.”

I could feel the blood rushing to my face. “No! But I—”

Sundari waited for me to finish. “You did offer, didn’t you?” she asked.

Kahini had tripped me again. More than anything in the world,
I wanted to be with my family for Durga Puja. But if I said that now, I would disappoint the rani. I felt a crushing pressure in my chest as I made my choice. I said, “I am happy to do it.”

F
or the next week I watched as all of the other Durgavasi prepared to go home. Everyone understood what Kahini had done, but it had been my own choice not to disappoint the rani by telling the truth. A part of me wished I had spoken out, and the night before everyone was going to leave, that feeling very nearly became a wave of emotion, threatening to overwhelm me.

The Durgavas was filled with packing chests. Jhalkari was laughing with Moti, warning her not to eat all of the laddus her mother baked, or she’d be sorry when she returned to the maidan. Kahini and Rajasi came in from the courtyard, trailed by two older women who had once been Durgavasi themselves. “I was very specific when I said I wanted my yellow sari cleaned for
today
,” Kahini said. “Tell me, Rajasi, wasn’t I specific?”

“I heard you tell them myself.”

“So where is it?” Kahini demanded.

“I’m very sorry,” the oldest woman said. “It’s very delicate cloth—”

Kahini reached back and slapped the woman’s face. “I didn’t ask for excuses!”

I rose from my bed.

“It’s not your business,” Jhalkari whispered. “Sit down.”

“I’m sorry,” the woman wept. “I’ll do it now.” She left at once, and the other woman hurried out behind her. Kahini saw that I was watching and her face lit up. “Decided that your village wasn’t worth going back to after all?” she asked.

“Your behavior in this Durgavas is shameful,” I said.

The other women turned around. I knew it was foolish of me to speak, but what did it matter? She had already taken from me what I wanted the most—to visit my family.

“Really?” Kahini said, drawing out the word as if this was the most interesting piece of information she’d heard. “I’m sorry. Which one of us was raised on a farm, and which at court?”

“Leave her alone,” Mandar said.

“You keep out of it! Sita here thinks that she knows more about palace life than I do. Well,” she said as she walked toward me. Her slippers slapped against the floor. “I guess we’ll find out over the next three days. A favor which you never even thanked me for.”

She was standing so close to my bed that I could smell the jasmine perfume on her skin. I wanted to hit her hard enough to make her regret every petty thing she’d ever done to me. But then I would be dismissed. And Anu would have no future.

“You see, I thought you would enjoy not having to return to that hole you call a village. How much better is it to be here, with beds and toilets and running water?”

“Enough,” Mandar said.

“And good luck with the raja. I’m sure that when he visits the rani you’ll have all sorts of entertaining things to talk about.”

Mandar rose threateningly from her bed, but Kahini only smiled and walked away.

T
he next morning, I watched from the courtyard as the women left, and my heart felt as if it were made of stone.

“Jhalkari told me what happened,” Sundari said. She put her arm around me and steered me back to the queen’s room. It was empty, the only sound coming from the trickling fountain. She took a seat on a long yellow cushion next to the door and indicated
that I should do the same. I crossed my legs and waited for her to speak.

“Kahini will never care about what’s fair,” she said. “She will keep needling you. Small holes, until she finds the spot where the needle can make a great wound. The less you say around her, the better. We must always remember she’s a great favorite of the raja’s. However, Kahini thought she was punishing you, but what she’s done instead is give you a push toward a better life. This is an opportunity.”

“She’s stolen my chance to see my family!”

“Don’t think of it that way. For the next three days,” Sundari advised, “prove your worth to the rani. You will have her undivided attention. Kahini has been so eager to see you suffer that she’s overlooked something very important. I’ve heard you speaking with the rani, and I know you can be entertaining. You’re very fortunate. Your father did you a great service by teaching you English.”

I did not feel fortunate at that moment, and I said so.

“Use these days to your advantage,” Sundari insisted. “It’s the last thing Kahini will expect.”

T
he rani summoned me at noon. I followed the servant she sent until we reached a pair of soldiers posted outside a pair of heavy wooden doors. One of them had gold earrings, and as we drew closer, I recognized him as Arjun. He smiled when he saw me, and for some reason, my heart beat faster in my chest.

The old woman pressed her hands together in namaste, but when Arjun made the gesture in return, it was me he was watching, his face full of concern. “I thought you would be going home to celebrate Durga Puja,” he said.

I tried to keep the resentment from my voice. “Not this time.”

He nodded, and something told me he had already heard the story about what Kahini had done. “The rani is waiting for you inside. She wants someone to read to her in English. It’s certainly becoming a popular language. They say that we’ll all be speaking English if things continue the way they are.”

“And what way is that?”

“Well, I can tell you this—the British certainly aren’t praying for the rani to deliver a son.”

I frowned. “They have far more soldiers than we do. If they wanted Jhansi, they could easily take it.”

Arjun gave a half smile. “That’s not the British way,” he explained. “In order to justify acts of aggression to their people, they need to look as if they have a good reason. And what better reason than a kingdom without an heir?”

The rani’s servant shifted from foot to foot, but I ignored her. This time, I wanted to know the truth. I was tired of being an ignorant village girl.

“Is that why they haven’t reissued new hats and new cartridges? Because they’re hoping the sepoys will rebel?”