Fareeshah lifts her khanda over her head. “What life?”
Her blade drops at the same time that she hurtles forward from the impetus of a sword driving through her chest. I peer past her, expecting to see Anjali, but it is Natesa who wrenches her khanda from Fareeshah’s back. Fareeshah drops to the arena floor in a cloud of dust.
A frantic onrush of applause erupts at the first defeat of a finalist. Natesa levels her sword at me. I go perfectly still and stare down her bloody blade.
“You swear I will have my freedom?” she asks.
“On Ki and every sister warrior who has ever lived, I swear it.”
Natesa’s sword remains trained on me. My breaths rasp, stinging my lungs. She lunges and stabs her blade into the ground, missing my knee by a finger’s length, and raises her arms to the spectators.
“I concede!” Natesa yells.
Anjali clambers to her feet, favoring her wounded leg. “I concede!” she also yells.
They wave their arms at Tarek high in the imperial box. I rise, supporting my injured arm and struggling to regain my breath. The audience’s clapping peters out, changing to outraged shouting. The gongs call for order, and Tarek motions for quiet.
“What is the meaning of this?” calls the rajah.
“My opponents have conceded!” My voice barrels across the oval arena and up into all three tiers. “They have withdrawn their challenge.”
“This is true?”
Anjali and Natesa answer as one. “Yes, Your Majesty.”
“Lies!” Lakia rushes from the floor-level entry behind us. “The viraji promised them riches and favors if they forfeit.”
“Participating in the tournament was their choice,” I counter. “They challenged me according to their will, and with that same will, they concede.”
From afar, I see Tarek calculating the impact of this unexpected finale. The people desired a champion who would demolish her opponents. I have retained my title by default, but I have still won. The tournament is over. Tarek has what he wants. He has me.
“The challengers stepped forward,” he says, “and they may step down.” Tarek’s false tone of apology hints at glee. He is glad to move forward with our wedding. “Since there are no other challengers, this concludes the tournament. The viraji is our rightful champion!”
Spectators cheer and boo. Those who favored me winning are satisfied, but the rest grumble their disappointment.
Anjali limps to me and swings her arm over my shoulder. “You’re a dolt.”
Natesa loops her arm around Anjali’s waist, supporting her other side. “A brave dolt.”
“Thank you for trusting me,” I say, resting against them.
Natesa leans forward, looking past Anjali. “Just keep your word.”
“I will.” I am amazed that Natesa conceded. Right up until she sank her blade into the ground, I was certain she would kill me, but her time as a courtesan has softened her.
The refuse cart rolls past us to collect Fareeshah’s remains. Regret for her and the other courtesans who died here scratches me raw. I bow my head and offer the Prayer of Rest. Natesa and Anjali join in, and we finish praying together. I glance up at the wives and courtesans watching us from the terrace. This is the start of a new sisterhood in Tarachand.
Natesa and I help Anjali hobble toward the gate. We make it only a few steps before a voice calls out.
“I challenge the viraji to a duel!”
32
A blanket of stunned silence falls over the amphitheater.
Lakia storms into the center of the battle ring and repeats her declaration. “I challenge the viraji to a duel!”
Her voice drives a spear of dread through my heart. Usually Lakia does not bother with her husband’s lesser-ranked women, but she let her pride override her caution once before, when she challenged Mathura. That battle ended in Lakia’s triumph but left the courtesan lame. I had thought that my securing the throne might draw Lakia back into the ring, but now that it has, I question my ability to see this through.
The spectators stomp their feet in support of prolonging the tournament, but I cannot tell if Tarek’s mind is muddied enough with apong to allow me to fight. Lakia wants me gone from her husband’s palace, and her desire is so strong that she is willing to risk her rank as kindred. I have no doubt that she challenged me with full confidence that she will defeat me, as she did Mathura. Lakia plans to win, maintain her rank, and be rid of me for good.
“You wish to fight my viraji?” Tarek calls down to his number one wife.
“As kindred, it is within my power to challenge any wife or courtesan to a duel.”
“And it is within the viraji’s right to decline,” Tarek reminds her.
Mathura could have declined the kindred’s challenge, but she did not. Neither will I. “I accept,” I exclaim. “On two conditions. The kindred and I will battle hand to hand—no weapons—and if I win, your courtesans may go free.”
Lakia calls out her reply. “I agree to those terms, but I have my own condition. If the viraji loses, your courtesans die.”
I curse her under my breath. Tarek was already planning to kill the courtesans, but this way, he can murder them with the backing of every spectator here, and I will wear the blame.
The rajah’s courtesans cry with outrage. They do not know that Tarek already aims to be rid of them. I look for Mathura in the group of those protesting and find her staring at me in silence. She is too far away for me to read her expression, but I pray that she knows that I will defend her life.
The rajah raises his hand for quiet. His infuriated courtesans are the last to hush. Natesa and Anjali hold on to me as we wait in tense silence for his decision. Tarek’s vanity at having selected me as his champion has been compromised by the concession of my contenders. The only way to confirm that he chose a warrior befitting of the status of Enlil’s hundredth rani is for me to shed sufficient blood this day, but he may not want to let me compete now that he has me locked in as his bride.
“You have my support,” he says, lowering his arm in finality. “The battle ends when one of you concedes.”
Panic crowds in around me. I am to battle the kindred. Great Anu, I hope I made the right choice.
Tarek returns to his throne, and Natesa and Anjali press close to my side.
“Did you know Lakia would challenge you?” Natesa asks.
“I thought she might. She’s as vain as Tarek.”
Anjali frowns up at the rajah. “I hope you have a plan,” she says.
My deal with Lakia has threatened their lives, but I suspect that Anjali is displeased for another reason. My agreement with her father had been going as planned, but now I am risking his ability to retrieve the Zhaleh.
For me, this is not about the book. Hastin and the bhutas left Deven to be executed. I no longer trust that they will free the courtesans.
Natesa wraps my cut arm with a piece of cloth provided by a healer. “Do you know what you’re doing?” she says.
“I’m doing what Ki would have me do. Pray for me.”