Temple of a Thousand Faces (41 page)

Eager for the coming days, to see how the plans of his quarry
would play out, Po Rame dropped the old spear, his pace increasing. If Thida did run, she would start a chain of events that would be very much to his liking. Three lives might be given to him, to do with as he pleased. Which soul, he wondered, would add the most strength to his own? With Thida came beauty. With Asal came power.

Voisanne was more of an enigma, but whatever wisdom, knowledge, and strength she had gathered throughout her many lives would become a part of him. And when the light of her passed into him, when he trapped her soul within his own, he would be closer to becoming a God.

In time people would fall on their knees before him. In time even Indravarman would beg for his favor.

But first he had to catch those who would run. He had to lay a trap.

J
ayavar thought the cicadas seemed louder that night, even though a nearby fire crackled and popped, hidden within a tall circle of cut timber. The blending of the insects’ buzzes created a constant hum that was strangely comforting. He was certain that his ancestors had gone to sleep listening to the same noise. Did the Hindu Gods hear it? he wondered, thinking about the nearby carvings of Vishnu and Shiva. Or had they created cicadas to lull mortals to sleep?

In some ways, Jayavar thought, his army was like the cicadas, for though the insects made so much noise, he rarely saw them. Despite their multitudes, they remained all but invisible. His warriors were much the same, a powerful force that blended into the landscape when needed, that would soon fill the air with battle cries.

Jayavar glanced behind him into the bamboo and thatch shelter
where Ajadevi slept. Her belly had ached for much of the afternoon and she had become uncharacteristically downcast, saying that she missed the companionship of her sisters. Her words and pains had caused him to worry. Too many of his acquaintances had developed an ache in the belly, breast, or head and died a few months later.

As he had several times already, Jayavar prayed for her health and well-being. Her stamina wasn’t what it used to be, and he wished she wouldn’t demand so much of herself. He had asked her to slow down, but it was obvious that she would continue to push herself, and push him, until the Chams were defeated.

Standing up, Jayavar surveyed the landscape. Though great effort had been taken to cloak the cooking fires, he could still see faint orbs of light that dotted the deep valley, a sight that made him uncomfortable. If a Cham scout happened into the immediate area, surely he would realize that the Khmers had taken refuge here. Prudence demanded the fires be put out, yet Jayavar made no such order. The fires kept mosquitoes, snakes, scorpions, and tigers at bay. Back in Angkor his people lived in stilted homes and slept under fine nets. But in the jungle they had no such luxuries. So the fires were a gift, albeit a dangerous one.

A man coughed. Jayavar turned toward the sound, worried that disease would find its way into their camp. Dysentery was a curse that had plagued his people since the dawn of time, and on any occasion when Khmers were crammed tightly together, this curse might rise up and claim many lives. Jayavar had no idea how to combat the disease. Healers had told him that fast, fresh water was helpful and he felt blessed by the presence of the nearby river. So far his people had been mostly spared, though a few had succumbed to the fevers of malaria.

We need to be back in our homes, he thought. We’ve lingered here long enough.

He crept toward his shelter, smiling at how Ajadevi slept, with her knees drawn toward her chest as if she were still a child. Certain that she was in a deep slumber, he moved behind his shelter where he had hidden some discoveries he’d made earlier that day. A white, crescent-shaped boulder, polished by the passage of the river, first caught his stare. He picked it up, trying not to grunt, and carried it into the shelter. With care he set it beside Ajadevi, then positioned it so that its profile faced in her direction. He walked outside again and gathered five peacock feathers that he’d found on a game trail not far from the river. The feathers, dominated by green threads and blue orbs at their ends, were among nature’s most wondrous creations, he thought. He placed them against the boulder, arrayed to resemble a fan. Last of all, Jayavar collected a pomegranate, star fruit, and mango, which he set beside the boulder.

Ajadevi liked to awaken to beautiful sights, and Jayavar hoped his arrangement would please her. He had put thought into choosing each object, for she would look from the stone to the feathers to the fruits, seeing purity and purpose in each. She would tell him what she saw, then ask why he had chosen the white rock instead of a red one, or the feathers instead of flowers. They would talk, smile, and the pain in her belly might be forgotten.

After studying his wife’s face, Jayavar left the shelter. He thought of his unborn child, wondering if the world would be graced by a girl or a boy. A boy would be better for the empire, but Jayavar had always delighted in his daughters and would be happy to have another girl enter his life.

Whether I have a son or a daughter, I must bring peace back to my people, he thought. Because all sons and daughters deserve peace.

The nearby fire popped, casting a spark into the sky. Jayavar thought about the coming days. First they would celebrate the
Festival of Floats. Then he would address his warriors. And finally his army would march to the south. A battle would be fought, the biggest battle of his life. He’d have to lead his men, and there was a strong chance his life would end and that his succession of rebirths would continue.

Jayavar wasn’t afraid of death because he believed that Buddha was right—that karma was crucial to the evolution of the soul, and Jayavar had always tried to be kind and just toward others. His soul would most likely ascend. And yet, when the eyes of this body ceased to see, Ajadevi would be taken from him. The greatest gift he had ever known would cease to be the most important part of his life. Ajadevi would be with him in spirit, and she’d come back to him, but the face he so cherished would no longer be the first sight he saw in the morning or the last of the evening.

The fear of such separation causing his breath to quicken, Jayavar crept back into the shelter. He shifted one of the feathers to the right. He twisted the pomegranate so that a small bruise wouldn’t show. And then he lay down beside her, drawing her close.

wo days later, not long after the city’s roosters announced the coming of dawn, Voisanne made her way to the Royal Palace. She had wanted to see Asal the previous day, but he’d been outside Angkor’s gates at an unknown location. No word had come from him until this morning, when a slave knocked softly on her door and handed her a sealed message. The writing was in Asal’s hand, asking her to come to his quarters. She’d left immediately, moving through the darkness like a living shadow.

The Royal Palace—with its towering ceilings, tiled floors, and columned rooms—was illuminated by flickering candles. Slaves used thatch brooms to sweep the hallways. Cats prowled around open spaces in search of mice. And a trapped swallow fluttered this way and that, seeking an escape from the imposing walls. Most Cham officials and warriors, as well as their servants, slaves, and courtesans, were still asleep.

Voisanne walked to Asal’s room and pressed her hands against its door, thumping her thumb on the wood. She sensed movement
within the room and then the door swung slowly open. Asal reached for her hand and led her inside. She saw immediately that his eyes were bloodshot and his face haggard.

“When did you last sleep?” she whispered, squeezing his fingers.

He leaned down and kissed her. Then he touched her face, traced the contours of her jaw, and once again pressed his lips against hers. “I have much to tell you,” he said quietly. Before she could answer, he shut and barred the door behind them. They moved to his bedding on the floor and knelt on his silk blanket, facing each other, their knees touching.

She saw the concern on his face and leaned forward. “Why did you send for me?”

“Because the end draws near,” he whispered.

“Tell me.”

He nodded, but instead of speaking, he kissed her again. “I’ve missed you, my lady. Only a short time has passed since I saw you, but it felt like an eternity.”

“I know,” she replied, nodding. “For me as well.”

“Things that I once cared for have become meaningless.”

“Such as?”

“Ensuring that my sword didn’t have a fleck of rust.” He glanced at his weapon, which was propped up in the near corner. “I used to scrub that blade until it shimmered like the sun. Now all I care about is that it’s sharp.”

She liked the sensation of his knees touching hers. She wished that she could feel more of him. “And now…since your sword no longer needs to shimmer…what catches your gaze?”

“You, my lady. You’re all I need.”

“I’m only a woman.”

“And the sun is only a light in the sky.”

She brought his hand to her lips and kissed a scarred knuckle.
“I made you something,” she said, and reached into her skirt cloth and removed a necklace. A thumbnail-size piece of unfinished jade had been crisscrossed with a silver wire and hung from a thin strip of leather. “I found this stone at the edge of the river when I was with you. I thought it seemed strong and wise, just as you are.”

He smiled, examined the stone, and then placed her gift around his neck. “Thank you, my lady.”

“You’re welcome, my big Cham.”

“I shall always wear it.”

“The stone suits you.”

“You suit me.”

The morning light filtered into the room. Voisanne knew that soon people would be waking. “Why did you send for me?” she asked.

He beckoned her closer. “I’ve found a guide,” he answered, his words barely audible. “A Khmer guide. We shall leave tonight when the moon rises over the horizon.”

Her pulse quickened. “Leave for where?”

“That’s up to you.”

“Why?”

“Because we have two choices. We can run from war. We can find a secret place where we’ll remain unseen. Or we can run to your people. But the second course will be a perilous one. Indravarman’s spies are on their trail. They near them. Soon a fresh horde of my countrymen will sail into the Great Lake. Indravarman will assemble every man he has, march north, and attack and overwhelm your people.”

Voisanne stiffened, shaking her head. “Then we must warn them. Please, please tell me that we can warn—”

“I knew your answer would be so,” he replied. “And, yes, tonight we’ll strike out to warn them. Tell your sister to be ready.
We’ll meet on the north side of Angkor. Across the moat there is a teak tree that’s recently fallen. Meet at this tree.”

“And Thida. I have to bring Thida.”

“Why?”

“Because I left her when the Siamese attacked in the jungle. And I can’t leave her again.”

“Then bring her. But tell no one else. Travel with enough provisions to last for three days but no more than that. Once Indravarman learns that I’ve fled, he’ll send men after us. They won’t know which path we’ve taken, but they’ll be fast. We will need to move even faster.”

“What about a horse? Could we leave on a horse?”

“Horses neigh. Their tracks are easy to follow. Once we get beyond Angkor, a horse would be a blessing. But near the city a mount would be a curse.”

She nodded, pleased that she’d had the foresight to purchase items for their journey, but also fearful of Indravarman’s wrath. “And you’ll go with me to my people? You’ll help us?”

“I’ll help you. And if that means helping your people, then that’s what I’ll do.”

“But you risk so much.”

“I risk losing you, my lady, if I don’t help you, and that’s a risk I shall never take.”

She moved forward, spreading her knees apart so that she straddled him. Her lips pressed against his, and she pulled him against her. “Will we be fast enough?” she asked, then kissed him again, fueled by desire and fear. “Will they catch us?”

“They will try, my lady. But we’ll have a good start on them, and I think that shall be enough. I know where your countrymen gather—at least where some of them do. We can find them, and you can warn them.”