"You have at last handed us a problem that I feel comfortable in saying we will look into," Ashram promised.
    "I am glad to hear that. It is the blessing of God that has brought you here."
    "The gods have plans for all of us. If I may ask, what do you think should be done regarding the princess and the rajah and the maharajah?"
    "I am not sure," he sighed. "I would like to think that if we could figure out the source of all this evil, the bolt would come back and the problems would evaporate."
    "I am of a like mind with you on that. But if that is not the case, which direction would you go?"
    He shook his head. "It is not for me to decide; I am not a kshatriya."
    "And that is where I stand."
    "It is the dharma of kshatriya to fight. They will fight; it doesn't really matter how they fight."
    "I feel that the Monkey Paladin is very much in agreement with us on this."
    "The Monkey Paladin is also a kshatriya. He should fight, too."
    "He should. But having traveled with him for some time, he is a kshatriya who knows what battles are most important in fighting. I do not think I will have any difficulty convincing him that the battle he will have the most effect in the outcome of is the one involving the cremation grounds. Why don't we return to him."
    "There is one more incident. Recently I sent two of the Iashtaras out to look over the palace grounds, and they were attacked by the undead. Butas. They barely got away with their lives."
    "I'm really glad you guys showed up," Hasin told Ashram honestly. This little village was just crammed with the kind of problem they excelled at handling.
    "I am glad that you are here." After all, he had interrupted the princess's kidnapping, which would have made the entire convoluted situation even more so.
    They collected the Monkey Paladin; the squabble of war had indeed failed to reach any conclusion, but at least Hari hadn't needed to break up any fights. It seemed likely that the same arguments had been going on for months now.
    "This has all the earmarks of somebody being clever," he noted, disgruntled.
    "The swami had interesting news for us," Ashram told him. "The murders around the town have to do with the cremation grounds. This is not good. In addition, two of the palace guards when they were exploring the grounds the other night were attacked by a buta. I had felt that no matter how much the lord Akshe feels that our presence will determine the course of the major battles one way or another, it is these battles upon which we can have the greatest effect." It was late in a very long day, and they were all too weary for a battle with undead, if any were prowling. "I think we should get a move on toward the cremation grounds early tomorrow morning, before we get dragged into the arguments again. Our investigations should probably start there. Unless you feel that our efforts would be better spent elsewhere?"
    "No. This is a solid enough idea."
    "Excellent plan, my lord." Hasin bowed with minor irony.
    "Oh, we've gotten you out of the dungeon, have we? Where would you be sleeping for the night?"
    "With you, obviously, as you're responsible for him," Hari replied.
    The hermit nodded. "I was afraid of that."
    "I have—had—found a place," Hasin sighed.
    "Congratulations, you will now be sleeping in the palace," Ashram told him with some unholy glee. "On the floor."
    "I think my prior arrangement was a bit more comfortable."
    "Did your prior arrangement know you were sleeping there?" Hari inquired.
    "Of course. I do pay for my lodgings." People in Amirdata had actually assumed he was a small-time merchant, a misapprehension he hoped most of them would continue in, if only his two accidental companions would stop referring to him as "thief...." I will have to go get my stuff."
    "You are too bound to your material tools," the hermit chided.
    "Yeah, I'm really rather fond of my spear and crossbow. I'm very sorry about that."
    Arrangements having been made, the three went to bed. Well, Hari and Ashram went to bed; Hasin went to floor, thinking wistfully of his palace at home, which contained considerably more wealth and comfort than any sudra by rights ought to have. Unfortunately it also contained a few too many wives, who were very keen that it remain comfortable, which was why he was out looking for things to steal in the first place.
    Upon waking, the two holy men performed their ritual ablutions, then went to morning devotions at the temple, then breakfast. The ambassadors were there, and they had an announcement.
    "Rajah Akshe, it has been our pleasure to stay with you these months. But I fear our time with you has come to an end. Within four days I will need a response that I may take back to the maharajah; yes or no." He paused for emphasis, then went on casually, "So, I hear there was some commotion last night? That a party raided the palace?" Conversation moved on, with no little attendant awkwardness. As always the richly dressed ambassadors seemed to be smirking, very aware—and making others aware—that they were representatives of a much greater power, on behalf of which they had just issued an ultimatum.
    "They will be leaving in four days. The Rajah Mard's armies will be attacking in five days. I expect that tonight at dinner someone will announce that something will be happening in three days," Ashram sighed as the three set out from the palace.
    "You know," Hari said thoughtfully, "this is a really, really long way for the maharajah to be reaching for a bride."
    That was true. And it was hard to judge what the real purpose might be, what political machinations and goals might be going on as well. Amirdata and Urim between them controlled a ford, which would be valuable (since it was clear now that he would have to fight Urim no matter what), and of course if the bolt were there that would also be important.
    They passed through the village and toward the cremation ground, which lay on the road to abandoned Bharhut, where no one had reason to go. On the road, they heard someone whispering—chanting a mantra. The sound came from the remains of a rather nice house now crumbling into ruin, set back from the road about fifty feet and the ground in between overgrown. The whispering could only be heard when the wind blew from that direction.
    Ashram recognized it as a Tantric mantra. "What unclean person is doing this?" He moved through the brush without noise or sign of passage, trusting that no one would attack a hermit and that Hasin would follow him—which he did, reluctantly but silently. Hari remained on the road.
    There was a blanket on the porch, and something under the blanket was whispering, a faint susurrus that raised hairs on the backs of their necks. Ashram lifted the edge of the blanket with his staff.
    "Don't!" a croaking voice commanded, and whatever or whoever it was grabbed the cloth to keep him from doing so again. "Don't. I think we should discuss things, hermit. Come back after dark. I promise you no harm," the wheezing voice added.
    "Who are you?"
    "My name is Rani."
    "Why are you... under that blanket?"
    "The sun hurts me. I am far too old to come out in the sun. I know something you want to know," she crooned harshly. "Something that will help you very much. That will help us both."
    "Come back tonight, you said?"
    "Come back after sunset. No harm will come to you. Bring the Monkey Paladin and the thief."
    "Your vision is very good for someone who is under a blanket."
    "My vision extends many ways." She went back to her whispering.
    "That's not good for you," he informed her in his gentle voice, and walked away. "Something under the blanket," he told Hari casually. "Wants to meet with us tonight after sunset. Says it knows important things. The world is full of strange and mysterious items."
    "If I think hard I can remember a point in my life when that wouldn't have seemed fairly normal."
    They reached the cremation grounds. The work was done by untouchables and a few sudras from the town, with a couple of brahmin priests conducting funerals.
    "Ask some questions," Ashram suggested.
    "'Been conducting any midnight murders lately?'" Hasin gave him a skeptical look.
    "About what has been happening."
    "Yes, yes." He sighed and went off in search of someone who would talk to him.
    Ashram and Hari went looking for a brahmin, finding one who had just finished a funeral and was in the midst of ritually purifying himself.
    "Good morning," Ashram said.
    "Good morning. Why are you here?"
    "I am Ashram the Hermit, and this is the Monkey Paladin."'
    "Oh, I see. Yes, there has been some talk in the village that you are here."
    "The swami Chandrasha suggested that we...."
    "Come here?" He seemed surprised.
    "Apparently strange things have been happening."
    "Yes, the bolt has disappeared. People whisper about it in the village. We're not supposed to know, but everyone does."
    "Strange things have been happening here," Hari emphasized.
    His expression closed right up. "I do not know about what goes on in the cremation grounds."
    "We will be spending some time today inside the grounds, looking," Ashram told him.
    "All right. What business is it of mine?" he asked warily.
    "Just in case you see a tiger walking around inside—"
    "What? A tiger?!"
    "—It's okay, he's with me."
    "Okay. I'll take your word for it."
    Untouchables were pointing at the visitors and whispering excitedly, although they dispersed as soon as anyone moved in their direction. Everyone seemed uncomfortable about the presence of the holy men, except for the dead (something of a relief, that). Hari looked around with Haruman's vision; there was evil here, that much was certain, but it was masked. Powerful sorceries seemed to hover in the ash-choked air. Ashram brought the description he had been given of the bolt into his mind and cast a location spell; the bolt did not appear to be anywhere near this place, at least. He realized he should have done that back at the castle as well; perhaps tomorrow.
    The grounds themselves were about fifty yards carved out of the forest. On the far side clustered the huts of the untouchables who worked there. The road was badly overgrown but it did continue on, into the forest and presumably to Bharhut.
    "So, crazy times these days, what?" Hasin greeted a fellow sudra.
    "Stay away from this area, brother," the man whispered. "Very bad."
    "I heard some rumors in town. Scary stuff."
    He looked around to make sure no one was observing. "My cousin. We found him out in the bush. He had been ravaged terribly! His eyes were missing!"
    "No!" Hasin encouraged him.
    "There are terrible things afoot in Amirdata. Get out, get out while you still can!" That warning delivered, he moved rapidly away and went about his work.
    Nothing seemed to be pressing until sunset, and there was an abandoned city down the road... and returning to Amirdata would all but ensure being dragged back into the Squabble of War. They would plan to return in time for dinner and find out what dramatic announcements they had missed.
    "How many times have we been here?" Hasin complained as they set off. "Middle of nowhere, abandoned city, you always want to go jaunting off... they might have some stuff I can take," he realized. Ashram glared at him. "What? Dharma," he reminded the hermit.
    "You embrace it with such glee."
    As they walked, everyone in the valley heard a sound.
    CRACK.     

| Top |