Naamah's Curse

SEVENTY-NINE

Once Hasan Dar was on his feet again, the Rani Amrita began to implement a plan of change.

She made a round of the temples, performing the offering rituals and prayers as we had done when I first arrived, only this time, she also announced her intention at each temple to revoke the unwritten laws regarding the untouchables within a month’s time.

Although they had been forewarned, some of the priests were indeed horrified that she meant to go through with it.

“You would profane the temple with unclean persons?” one grey-bearded fellow asked in shock. “Let them lay hands on the Shiva Lingam itself?” He shuddered. “No, no, no, highness! You are a woman, and not of the priestly caste. You do not understand what you do.”

“I beg to differ, brother.” Ravindra’s tutor, who was known as Guru-ji and whose beard was whiter than the priest’s, addressed him politely. “Her highness understands it very well, and I am in agreement that it is restoring a lost tradition. I will gladly sit with you and discuss the oldest of the Vedas.”

“But they are unclean!” the priest protested, ignoring his offer. “Highness, I beg you, do not do this thing!”

Amrita’s hands were posed in a mudra of respect, but her face was calm and determined, and Hasan Dar and her guards stood behind her, hands on their sword-hilts. “Forgive me, Baba, but I am doing it.”

He bowed his head in dismay. “You would seek to bend the will of the gods at the point of a sword?”

“No,” the Rani said firmly. “But it is my true belief that the gods have revealed their will to me, and I will see it enforced. I will allow no bloodshed, but anyone who refuses to honor my edict will be banished.”

Not all of the priests were as resistant. The Rani Amrita had done what no ruler of Bhaktipur had accomplished in generations. She had defeated the Falconer of Kurugiri; and, too, she had retrieved Kamadeva’s diamond from the Spider Queen Jagrati. Clearly, the gods favored her.

So it was that some priests listened to her, listened to Guru-ji’s calm arguments and heeded them, while others continued to protest.

While they were fewer in number, the monks of the Path of Dharma supported her. Word of the tulku Laysa’s presence at the palace had emerged, and a good many followers of the Path of Dharma made pilgrimages to visit her and speak with her. Laysa welcomed them all with grave pleasure, and they carried away tales of a profound grace and wisdom undiminished by her time in Kurugiri, lending further credence to the notion that the Rani was indeed a vessel of divine will.

Among the commonfolk, the mood continued to be varied. The warrior caste stood with the Rani Amrita and her son. The merchant caste was reluctantly accepting. It was the members of the lowest caste-the servants, farmers, herders, and craftsmen-who remained bitterly resentful at the rumors of coming change.

We were returning from the temple of Hanuman, the monkey-god who delighted me so, when a scrawny boy in the street darted past the guards to hurl a rotten onion at the Rani in her palanquin, striking her in the shoulder. It gave me a brief, sick reminder of the boys in Vralia who had thrown stones at me as I was escorted in chains to Riva.

Hasan Dar roared an order, but Bao was already in motion, racing after the fleeing figure.

“Oh, Moirin!” There were unshed tears in Amrita’s eyes. “None of my people has ever turned on me so!”

I patted the damp spot on her sari, wiping away bits of onion-skin. “Change comes hard, my lady,” I murmured. “They are fearful of losing what humble status they possess.”

“But that is not what I am doing!”

“I know.” I had to own, there were times when I wondered privately if I had done the right thing in counseling our lovely Rani not to wield Kamadeva’s diamond. All of this would have been so much easier with the world falling at her feet. But then I remembered the vision of bloodshed that followed, and I set aside my doubts. “You must convince them otherwise, that’s all.”

She nodded. “You are right, dear one.”

Bao returned in short order, hauling the boy in a head-lock beneath one arm, the boy struggling ineffectually against his grip. “Here’s your culprit, highness,” he said in a cheerful tone. “He’s a slippery one!”

“Shall I have him beaten?” Hasan Dar asked grimly.

“No.” Amrita raised one hand in the mudra of fearlessness and stepped from the palanquin, her composure restored. “Bao-ji, let the boy go. I would speak to him.”

Bao shrugged and complied.

The lad glanced around wildly, and found himself surrounded by guards. He stared defiantly at the Rani. He couldn’t have been more than thirteen or fourteen years old, and there was clay in his hair and under his nails.

“What is your name, young rebel?” the Rani Amrita asked gently.

His lips thinned. “Dev.”

“Dev,” she echoed. “I think you must be a potter’s son, eh? So tell me, young Dev, why are you so angry at me?”

He knit his dark brows in a fierce scowl. “You would make us no better than them!”

“How so?” Amrita inquired. “Because I mean to decree that there is no shame in attending to all aspects of life?”

The boy Dev looked away from her and spat on the ground. “I may be a potter’s son, but I do not deal in shit.”

“That is not true,” Amrita said in her musical voice. “You, young rebel Dev, you and I, and bold, swift Bao-ji who captured you so handily, and my lovely dakini Moirin, my handsome commander Hasan Dar, my son, Ravindra, the jewel of my heart… each and every one of us are human and mortal.” Her voice hardened, her words echoing Jagrati’s. “Each and every one of us deals with shit squeezed stinking from our bowels, only we choose not to acknowledge it, even though it is part of life’s great cycle.”

He gaped at her, shocked by her words. Beyond the circle of guards, folk crowded close in an attempt to witness the exchange.

Amrita gestured to Hasan Dar. “Stand down, and let them hear this.”

“Highness…” he protested.

She raised her hand again, and he obeyed. The guards spread out, giving the spectators an opportunity to draw closer. Unobtrusively, Bao unslung his staff and took a defensive pose at the Rani’s left shoulder. I stepped out of the palanquin and stood at her other side, ready to shield her at need.

A memory teased at my thoughts, the memory of Snow Tiger attempting in vain to calm the crowd who had come to rescue her, the dragon’s voice whispering in my mind. Lend her your gift, he had said. Make a gateway.

It had worked then. Without pausing to wonder, I attempted it now, calling the twilight. Instead of breathing it out, I poured it into Amrita, my fingers brushing her bare arm.

The air around her brightened visibly, drawing soft gasps from the crowd. Amrita gave me a brief, perplexed glance, and I nodded at her in silent encouragement.

The Rani took a deep breath, steepling her fingers in the soothing mudra that eased conflict. “Listen, then, to what I say to this potter’s son, for it holds true for each and every one of you.” She gazed at the boy, and he flushed beneath her shining regard. “You are not lessened by this change, young one. Is your lot in life the worse because someone else is lifted out of misery?” She shook her head. “No. The gods reward greatness of heart, not meanness of spirit. Do not seek to look at those below you and gloat. Look at those above you and aspire. I mean to build schools, good schools. If you wish to be a potter like your father, well and good. It is an honorable profession. If you wish to learn another trade, you may. You may become a merchant, or a builder of temples, or a soldier in my guard. I am placing your kharma in your own two hands. Is it truly a change you despise?”

Dev fell to his knees. “No.”

“Good.” She touched his hair. “So do not throw any more rotten onions at me, eh?”

He shook his head. “I won’t.”

The crowd let out a collective sigh, adoring her once more; and while their response was due in some small part to the sparkle of magic I’d lent her, mostly it was due to Amrita herself, her courage and her unfailing kindness.

The Rani Amrita smiled at the crowd. “I thank you for your patience, and for listening.” Pressing her palms together, she bowed deeply to her people. “May all the gods look kindly on you.”

With that, she returned to her palanquin, and I joined her, letting go my grip on the twilight. The crowds parted for us, Bao and Hasan Dar and the guards resuming their protective positions.

“That was most beautifully said, my lady,” I said to her. “I do believe you swayed their hearts.”

Amrita gave me a sidelong glance. “I do believe you gave me some assistance, dear one. I felt the touch of your magic.”

I smiled. “Only a very little bit. A tiny push to help move change along. After all, I am not nearly as dangerous as Kamadeva’s diamond.”

“No?” She laughed, a merry, ringing sound that gladdened my heart, and the hearts of all who heard her. “I am not so very sure of that, Moirin,” she said affectionately. “But I am grateful nonetheless.”