Path of the Eclipse

by Chelsea Quinn Yarbro

“You would never betray me or my cause, would you?” She was reveling in the power she had over the man. It was an effort not to laugh at him now, but she recognized how vain he was and controlled herself.

  “I would never betray you, Rani,” he answered. He was concentrating on tying his sash, not looking at her.

  “Eat some fruit,” she suggested impishly. “It will restore you.” Her tongue flicked over her lips.

  “I’m not hungry, Rani.” Nevertheless, he reached out obediently and picked up the peach he had not been able to eat earlier. Juice dribbled over his chin as he bit into it, honey ran down his fingers, but he could taste nothing.

  She watched him as he chewed on the peach, and her lustrous eyes darkened. “You must not think that I will permit you to change your mind, Commander Guristar.”

  His mouth was full of peach, so he said nothing. The child of his Rajah had begun to frighten him.

  Apparently Tamasrajasi understood this. She lowered her head and gazed at him from under her thick lashes. “You have given me much pleasure, Sudra Guristar, and you are sworn to my cause. You will be first in my favor when my father has gone. It will be you who will lead our men into battle, and it will be your arms I will lie in when the victory is ours.”

  It was so easy to believe the lie. Guristar had no wish to question these extravagant promises. Such avowals, coming from a man, he would regard with deep suspicion, but he knew that every woman was a slave to her passions, and accepted her words. When he had licked his fingers, he said to her, “I am almost your father’s age, and in time you will desire a younger and more stalwart lover. When the time arrives that you take a consort, it will be fitting that you choose from among the sons of the Rajahs who have reason to feel as we do about the Sultan in Delhi. Then it will be best that you take the younger man. In the meantime, nothing will give me more delight than to know the joy of your touch and the secrets of your body.”

  “I have already been offered marriage with three Rajahs’ sons and I have refused them all. My father will not force me to marry against my will, or contrary to the good of the country.”

  “Your opinions and his must be strangely divided,” Guristar said lightly.

  Tamasrajasi stared at him, and he felt the same disquiet he had earlier. “My father is still Rajah, and though he is weak and foolish and a tool of Shams-ud-din Iletmish, I will not hear him spoken against by you or anyone else at this court. To do so is dangerous. Let my father learn that you have made a common cause with me, and you will give your bones to the vultures, if you are fortunate. Let my father learn what you have done with me, and you will pay the full penalty for despoiling a noble virgin. And I will not speak on your behalf. I will watch you die as if you deserved it.” She saw the arrogant expression Guristar had worn take on a comical terror. “It is more important that our country be free of the Sultan than that you and I spend more entrancing hours together, Sudra Guristar.”

  He croaked out a few words of agreement and huddled back in the cushions. “It must be the country that is first in our thoughts,” he forced himself to say.

  “And you must be willing to act on short notice, for when my father is gone, there are others who will try to seize our land, not the least of whom is the Sultan himself. They will all claim that because I am female I am incapable of ruling though my father has designated me heir until one of his sons should live to adulthood.” She smiled easily. “That, naturally, must not happen. My brothers and half-brothers have not survived, nor are any of those unborn likely to survive.”

  Guristar looked at her, bemused. “You are not telling me that your brothers and half-brothers died … unnaturally.”

  “There is nothing unnatural in dying after consuming poison,” Tamasrajasi said so nonchalantly that Guristar could not tell whether she was being serious.

  “It’s not wise to suggest such things,” he admonished her nervously. “Jests of this sort are often misconstrued.”

  “I had not planned to discuss it,” she said, somewhat bored now that her purpose was accomplished. She indicated the fruit on the tray. “You should have more.”

  “No, gracious Rani. I will have a meal soon with your father. He will remark on my poor appetite.” It was time to get into his clothes again, though it was awkward to do so. He held up his tunic and saw the rent in it. “I will have to wear another.” Secretly he was pleased that he had awakened such passion in the girl that she tore the clothes off him. He was forty years old, he reminded himself, and had caused a beautiful woman of seventeen to surrender to him completely.

  Tamasrajasi guessed the nature of Guristar’s thoughts as she studied his face. Let him think that he had mastered her: she knew who had won their encounter. All she need do was feign delirium and Guristar would do anything she demanded of him. She sighed. “Sudra Guristar, when will you come to me again?”

  He turned toward her. “It cannot be at once, Rani. There are too many who might remark on it, and then we would be in great danger.”

  “True,” she said, relieved that he was willing to let her have time to deal with the others she would need to put her plans in motion. “How soon do you think it would be wise?”

  “Ten days?” It was longer than he wanted, and less time than was wise.

  “So many days?” She filled her voice with disappointment. “Can’t it be sooner?”

  He could not disguise the pride he felt. “It’s best to wait that long, Rani. It is not only our delights that concern me, but the men I must seek out before we can make more plans. By the time Dantinusha presides at the periyanadu, I will have found the key village leaders and spoken to them of the shame the Sultan visits upon us.”

  “The periyanadu will be held at the end of the rains, won’t it?” She knew the answer, but thought it was wiser to conceal this. His response would indicate to her how much trust she could put in his information.

  “Yes,” he said. “There will be a festival at the end of it. There has been no proclamation yet, but the Rajah has confided in me”—he was clearly pleased by the confidence—“that he intends to have six full days of festivities after the periyanadu so that the village delegates will be inclined to think well of him and to be well-disposed to regular periyanadus.”

  “A festival lasting six days,” she repeated thoughtfully. She had heard that there was to be a feast, but had not known how grand an event her father intended. “It may be to our advantage more than his. During a six-day festival, anything might happen.”

  Sudra Guristar was chilled by the tone of her voice. He tried to assume his swaggering manner, but it was not successful. “Anything? It sounds to me as if any action then would quickly turn chaotic. It’s not sensible to take action then.”

  “Isn’t it? Well, you are the commander of the guard, and I am only the Rajah’s daughter, so I must defer to your knowledge.” From her expression it was plain that she did not mean what she said. Sudra Guristar was not looking at her, and took her words as spoken.

  “That will be best. I’ll guide you, Rani, and we will have the vengeance that this country has been denied for so long. That’s not to say that the periyanadu will be wasted. It won’t. I have said that we will make progress with the village spokesmen, and we will. Let me act as I judge most discreet. We might yet be denounced by the men of the periyanadu if we do not go cautiously. Your father will be much approved for the festival. If I can make it seem that he spends his time in debauchery rather than tending to the affairs of Natha Suryarathas, every day of festival will bring men to our cause. The representatives of the Sultan will be at the festival, and I doubt it will be difficult to make it seem that they are encouraging the Rajah in luxury and excess in order to weaken him.” The notion had not, in fact, occurred to him until he began to talk, and as he outlined his plan, he decided that it was not only plausible, it could be very workable.

  “How will you do this so that my father does not suspect you? In such a gathering, any duplicity might easily be brought t
o light.” Tamasrajasi surprised Guristar by noticing the only real flaw in his idea.

  “I…” He thought a moment, then said with enthusiasm, “I will not speak to criticize, but out of concern. I will say that my Rajah has always had my allegiance, which everyone knows is true, and that I am worried that the influences of Delhi have become so strong that Dantinusha has become slow to act on behalf of his subjects.”

  “Will any of the other officials agree with you?” She waited impatiently for him to answer.

  “If I work very carefully, I think it is possible,” he said when he had weighed the matter carefully. Now that he was truly embarked on a plan for rebellion, the light-headed anticipation had passed. He was aware of the dangers of the enterprise, and, belatedly, decided that it was unwise to join his interests to those of Tamasrajasi. He had no need of her. A girl was no ruler for a country on the verge of war. He would have to find a way to control her until her father was no longer Rajah, and then she could be dealt with. Tamasrajasi, in spite of her glorious body, was little more than a child.

  “Remember that my father has already triumphed in one uprising. He is not entirely without courage.” There was a trace of mockery in her eyes. “You may command the guard, but they have all sworn loyalty to the Rajah on the names of the gods.”

  “I will remind the soldiers that it is the gods themselves who have been most affronted by Dantinusha’s conciliatory dealings with the Sultanate. If they honor their vows, then they must see the justice of rebellion.” He stood and began to pull on his clothes, adjusting them as best he could. “When I dine with your father, I will try to learn what entertainments he plans for the festival. If he has any special celebrations in mind that would compliment Ab-she-lam Eidan, I will be certain that the guard hears of it, and see to it that they are properly outraged.”

  “And when the Rajah learns that it was you who told them of the event, what then?” She was drawing her nails over the silk again and the sound distracted Guristar.

  “What then? I will see … I will see that the blame is placed elsewhere. There are a few soldiers in the guard who will … Rani, let me beg you to stop—the noise raises the hairs on my neck.” He did not say this loudly, though he would have had great satisfaction in giving the girl a sharp order.

  Tamasrajasi drew her nails over the cushion, quite deliberately, one last time, then folded her hands, waiting for him to continue.

  “I was saying about the guard…”

  “… that there are a few soldiers who will or will not do a thing for you?” she suggested.

  “Not precisely.” He disliked her tendency to assume authority, and was more brusque with her. “There are those guards who will speak for me. I need only suggest a few things, and they, being hotheaded, and their honor smarting from the presence of the Sultan’s representatives, will say all that is necessary.”

  “It is good to hear it.” She rose and went to him, rubbing her opulent young body against his when she was close to him. “Ah, Sudra Guristar. How long the time will be, how slowly it will go. I will lie awake and think of your member like a staff, a pillar within me. I will dream of being bathed in your seed.”

  Guristar had heard amorous talk from his wives, but never anything as stimulating as this. Swiftly he clutched the girl tightly to him. “Hush, Rani, Shakti. I will not be able to leave you if you continue, and it is imperative that I go.”

  “I wish it were not so,” she said in a small voice, turning her head so that she would look into his eyes. “Ten days will be a thousand years. I will wither and grow old and the flesh will fall from my bones in that time.”

  He was glad her need of him was great, and her impetuosity was very flattering. A woman who wanted so much of him would be subject to his will when it was necessary. “No, no, Rani. You will become like the peach, ripe and full of nectar, and I will desire you more than ever.”

  “If I were the daughter of a merchant or a farmer, I would have been married three years ago. I would have practiced all the arts I have been taught for so long. There are three years of passion I must reclaim.” She lifted one leg and wrapped it around his thigh, drawing him closer.

  “So you shall,” he told her thickly, his vanity denying the alarm her words gave him. It was painful to release her, to refuse the bounty she offered him. “In ten days, Rani. If I remain here, we are in danger that I will be missed. It is not wise that anyone should seek me.”

  She lowered her leg and stepped back from him, pouting a little. “If, in the evening ten days from now, you have not come to me, I will seek you, and that will be dangerous.” She nodded her dismissal and went back to the cushions where she had lain.

  For a moment Guristar was tempted to remonstrate with her for this unseemly treatment, but he recalled that she was very young, and the only child of the Rajah. It was natural that she should have learned this unbecoming manner. In time he would teach her to give him his due respect. “In ten days I will be here, Rani.” He favored her with a bow, then left the room. Next time, he thought, he would bring unguents so that she could anoint his body.

  Tamasrajasi waited until she was certain that the commander of the guard was gone from her quarters; then she clapped again, and one of her slaves appeared. “Bring the cloths to clean me,” she ordered, and waited in stillness until the young woman returned with two scarves of red silk. As Tamasrajasi spread her legs, the slave girl knelt and wiped what Guristar had left. When this was done, Tamasrajasi rose, beckoning the slave to follow her.

  The room was in a remote part of Tamasrajasi’s quarters. It was small and deliberately dark. At the far end of the room was a statue, in black stone, of a dancing woman. Tamasrajasi approached the statue reverently, chanting the ritual words as she held out the stained red silk in offering. Finally she put the cloths on the embers in a brass brazier standing before the statue. There was a brief stink in the air as the scrap of cloth flared, flamed, and was gone.

  “Caress me!” Tamasrajasi ordered the slave without looking at the woman. She stood facing the statue, gazing at the rapacious face carved in the stone.

  The slave performed her task impassively, having done it many times before. There was neither pleasure nor repugnance in the act. But Tamasrajasi abandoned herself to the ministrations of the slave. Her breath became deep, then harsh. Sweat shone on her flesh as the slave removed the sheer robe Dantinusha’s daughter wore. When the slave woman crouched between her legs, Tamasrajasi had to steady herself, touching one lifted foot of the black statue. Her eyes were more feverish, her movements more frenetic than they had been when she had permitted Sudra Guristar access to her. That had been a convenience; this was an act of religious sacrifice.

  For Kali was goddess of sexuality as well as destruction.

  A letter to the Rajah Dantinusha from his sister, Padmiri.

  To the favored of the gods and champion of the kingdom, the Rajah Dantinusha of Natha Suryarathas, most beautiful of lands.

  Great Lord, my sincerest greetings.

  It has been a considerable time since a messenger has come from you, and as you have not always trusted me, I confess that the sight of the man gave me a moment of fear. All of us are aware of the dangers visited upon this country, and it is not impossible that in order to secure the land, you would give orders that might otherwise be repugnant to you, and contrary to the laws you yourself have instigated. Yet I saw that my apprehension was in vain, and the scroll brought to me was the polite request that I receive a guest in my house. You tell me that the man is a foreigner, from the West, and not, I gather, a follower of Islam. The scroll says that this foreigner has but one servant and yet possesses the finest of jewels. By that alone, I will admit, my curiosity is piqued.

  When our brothers and cousins rose against you and there was so much death that I feared I might never cease mourning, my decision to remove myself from all aspects of the court was comforting. I preferred to make myself an exile on my own terms than to risk banishment on yours
. My life here goes peacefully. I see no one but scholars and teachers and occasional musicians. I am of an age when this no longer disappoints me. Had I been a young woman when the uprising occurred, I might have felt these privations, such as they are, more keenly.

  I am saying this so that you will understand why I am willing to have this foreigner share my house. I have come to miss the company of others, but I don’t think I can bear to be reminded of the losses we have all endured. While it is true I lost no husband or son—having none to lose—when the battles and executions were carried out, there was much that I had valued that was gone. So I will not take in my own kind. Your foreigner, though, is another matter. My days, though pleasant, are much the same, and I am as subject to boredom as anyone. It would please me to have the company of a man who is intelligent and well-traveled who might be persuaded to recount some of his travels to me, so that I will have a taste of what he has seen and done. I do not desire to speak to him of Natha Suryarathas or any of our relations. You may be certain that I will reveal no secrets—I know none, and there is nothing but grief in remembering what is past. I ask that you tell this man of my conditions, and if he is still inclined to share this house of mine, then he will be welcome.

  When the rains have stopped, I will allow another wing to be built onto this house, but until then, it is useless to attempt alterations. I will allocate six rooms for his use and another two for his servant. This should be sufficient unless he plans to enlarge his household considerably. As the rooms are in an unused part of the house, it will be a day or two before my staff can put them in order. It will be inconvenient for him to arrive during the next two days, but after that, I will be pleased to see him when it most suits you and him.

  Your offer to supply me with additional guards is doubtless well-intended, but I will refuse them. I am already filled with a sense of being in prison, and so it would not reassure me to have armed men here. My eunuchs are good fighters and have guarded me from worse things than two men far from home. Should I change my mind, I will send a messenger at once. A rider leaving here at midday will easily reach your palace before sunset, and I am sufficiently isolated that it would be difficult for anyone to flee this place before your guard could arrive here.