"My lady!"
Before Mallika had recovered from her shock, she heard Vijaya's excited voice. The maid rushed into the tent, carrying a platter of food.
"My Lady! You are finally awake! I was so scared!"
Mallika gazed at her, trying to figure things out. When she failed again, she decided to give up. "Who brought me here?" She asked.
Vijaya had already busied herself with Mallika's hair. As she ran an ivory comb through the soft dark meshes, she continued to answer the questions, seemingly without any doubt. "Why? It was General Brihangad. You seemed to have fainted out of fatigue."
"Fatigue?!" Mallika couldn't suppress her disappointment. When had she been such a weakling that would faint out of fatigue? Wasn't she on the verge of death?
But Vijaya did not notice her exasperation. "Yes, General said you had overworked yourself. And the weather too is so hot. We were scared it could be a sunstroke. Luckily, it isn't anything serious."
"But wasn't I shot?" Mallika turned to face her maid, her voice brimming with confusion.
"Huh? Shot?" Vijaya responded with an equally baffled expression. "Who dares to shoot you, Princess? You have never been at a disadvantage in battles. How can you be shot?"
"No no, I was really shot," Mallika tried to explain. "I was shot from behind. A soldier carried me back. How come I don't have any wounds?" She surveyed her body yet again.
Indeed, no sensible person would believe her words, for there was not even a scratch to be found on her body. But, this couldn't be! Had she been bewitched? Or was all that a hallucination?
Mallika shook her head in irritation as she sprang up, startling Vijaya in the process. "I need to see Uncle urgently."
She dashed out of the tent, her long tresses flying in the wind, and the edges of her cream gown swishing against the gravel.
"Uncle!"
She walked right into a large, more brightly lit tent. The interiors were warm, with a strong scent of herbal medicine in the air. Sure enough, all her comrades from the Elite brigade were seated there, each having their wounds dressed.
General Brihangad, who happened to be her maternal uncle, had incurred a bad looking gash on his right shoulder, and was somewhat lost in adjusting the tightness of the bandage when her sudden interruption shook him back to reality.
"There there, the colt is up."
A familiar voice wafted through to her. Mallika frowned. It was Indrasen, trying to tease her again.
"You survived?!" Mallika sneered.
"Of course! How could I not? If I am not here, who will help you rid your boredom, princess?"
Mallika rolled her eyes, "That's too considerate of you, brother. I really can't accept such favours."
"Stop bickering, you two." Brihangad's deep voice was heard.
"General!" A young boy, with a head full of dark curls stood up abruptly. "Thanks for your help. My wounds are dressed. I would like to retire." He bowed curtly to the General and Mallika, and without waiting for a reply, walked out of the tent. He was a young and very talented soldier, Aparajit by name.
"Did he get sour milk this morning?" Another soldier remarked.
"Heh?" A fourth sniggered. "Then shouldn't we say he always gets his milk sour! Why, I have never seen a different expression on his face!"
"Enough!" Brihangad spoke up again, seemingly disturbed at the gossip. Something was clearly troubling him. "Mallika, what did you want to say? Are you better now?"
"I am, thank you, uncle. The thing is, I was badly hurt earlier today. I am confused, how can I not have any wounds?"
The atmosphere stilled momentarily. Brihangad looked up, seemingly shaken. Mallika felt about a dozen gazes stick to her. It wasn't unusual, but she disliked it nevertheless. However, before she could speak, Indrasen stood up.
"That's right. She had a gash on her forehead, an extremely ugly one, I must say. I was afraid she would have to stay a spinster all her life. But it seems God has other plans. Why, I can't even figure out a scar now. Tell me, what did you do?"
"I didn't do anything," Mallika replied, silently pleased at the fact that she had got some backup. Otherwise her tale was too fancy to be believed. After all, even a minor cut took a few days to heal, not to mention the wild wounds they incurred during battles. The scars couldn't just vanish into thin air!
"I was, ummm, in fact, shot from behind, right through my heart...."
"What!!"
A unanimous uproar rose from the tent with a few soldiers springing from their seats.
"Calm down!" Mallika commanded. "Uncle, I really was shot. That was why I fainted. But some soldier had carried me away from the field. I remember that clearly. After this, I don't know what happened. Uncle, do you know something?"
"What can he probably know?" Shubham spoke up. "He was with us all the time. We discovered you lying in unconscious under a tree a little distance from the battle ground. You were not hurt, but your body was so heated, we assumed it was a sun stroke. So we carried you back."
"That's right," another soldier added. "If you had been saved by some soldier, why didn't he report to us?"
"Uncle?" Mallika asked, looking at her up uncle expectantly.
But what she did not expect was to see an expression of utter shock on her uncle's countenance. It seemed as if he had been stricken into a daze that refused to lift. His calm dark eyes were suddenly filled with a strange excitement, one which she could not explain.
The other soldiers seemed to have sensed the difference as well. "Why General?" It was Indrasen. "You look disturbed. Is there something?"
"What did he look like?"
Brihangad's voice was hushed as he asked it.
"I...I don't remember and I didn't see him clearly as well. Uncle, do you know him?"
Brihangad's expression refused to change. The shock still lingered in his voice as he replied, "How can I know him?" His tone itself was enough to convince the audience that what he was saying wasn't the reality.
"Uncle!" Mallika frowned. "Since when did you start underestimating my intelligence to this extent?! Of course you must know him. He..."
"Enough!"
Brihangad stood up, banging the chair next to him in a loud thud. Everyone was taken aback.
"This is the end of the discussion. By God's grace, Mallika, you are fine. There shall not be a single word on this topic anymore..."
"But Uncle, I owe him my life!"
"That does not matter." The firmness in Brihangad's voice was unusual, and the dimmed gaze in his eyes was somewhat scary. "If this news spills outside my tent, that shall be the end of your careers, remember!"
The general stormed out, his last warning still vibrating in the tent inside.
Gradually, the soldiers began to leave as well, some glancing sympathetically at the princess who stood grounded.
Mallika was stupefied. She had never seen her uncle lose his calm like this. What exactly could cause him to be upset in this manner?
"Was he upset, or was he trying to hide something?" Mallika muttered vaguely.
"Even if he was, he can't keep it from us for long, right sister?"
Mallika looked up. A handsome young man, with a pair of shiny dark eyes was standing at the entrance of the tent.
"Ashwin?!"
An affectionate smile spread across Mallika's face. It was her twin brother, Ashwin, the crown prince of Sailam.
The youth walked up and embraced Mallika in a tight hug. "Sister, I heard you had fainted. Someone told me it was a sun-stroke. Sister, you scared me. I rode all the way here from my camp. Sister, you are okay, right?"
Mallika hit her brother's head gently with her knuckle.
"Silly boy," she smiled. "How can I be hurt so easily. Don't worry. But..." She paused midway, remembering her uncle's threatening.
"Drop it." Ashwin smiled reassuringly. "Whatever it is, it can wait."
Mallika smiled. Indeed, it could wait. But... a question continued to linger in the back of her mind....
Who was he?
To be contd....