“I did not! It was Malwa provocateurs who stirred up the Keralan mob against the refugees from Andhra!”
Holkar stroked his beard, smiling. “True. But it was your Maratha cavalrymen who sabred the mob and spit them on their lances.”
“As well they should!” came her hot reply. “Many of those refugees were Maratha themselves!”
Holkar chuckled. “I am not arguing the merits of the thing, girl. I am simply pointing out that you have become a major—embarrassment—to the King of Kerala. That old man is no doting village grandfather, Shakuntala. He is as cold-blooded as any ruler needs to be. With the Malwa Empire now at war with Persia, he thinks he is safe from their ambitions—as long as he can avoid drawing their attention. The last thing he wants is his granddaughter forging a rebellion in the Deccan from a base in his own kingdom.”
Holkar stepped into the room, avoiding the bodies which littered the floor. When he came up to the Empress, he placed a gentle hand on her shoulder. He was the only member of her entourage who ever took that liberty. He was the only one who dared.
“He is my grandfather,” whispered Shakuntala. Her voice throbbed with pain. “I can remember sitting on his knee, when I was a little girl.” She stared out the window, blinking away tears. “I did not really expect him to help me. But I still didn’t think—”
“He may not have given the orders, Your Majesty,” said Kungas. “Probably didn’t, in fact.” The Kushan commander gestured at the dead assassins. “These are Malwa, not Keralan.”
Shakuntala’s black eyes grew hard.
“So what? You predicted it yourself, Kungas. A Malwa assassination attempt, with the tacit approval of the Keralan authorities.” She turned away, shaking her shoulders angrily. “The viceroy would not have done this on his own. He would not dare.”
“Why not? He can deny everything.” Again, Kungas gestured to the dead assassins. “Malwa, not Keralan.”
Shakuntala stalked toward the door.
“He would not dare,” she repeated. At the door, she cast a final glance at the dead family. “This was my grandfather’s work,” she hissed. “I will not forget.”
A moment later, she was gone. The stamping sounds of her slippered feet going down the stairs came through the door. Dadaji Holkar and Kungas exchanged a glance. The adviser’s expression was rueful. That of Kungas’ was sympathetic, insofar as a mask of iron can be said to have an expression.
Kanishka had finished tying a tourniquet around the maimed arm of the Malwa assassin leader. He stooped and hauled the man to his feet. The Malwa began to moan. Kanishka silenced him with a savage blow.
“Glad I’m not her imperial adviser,” he muttered. “Be like advising a tigress to eat rice.” He draped the unconscious assassin over his shoulder and made for the door.
Then he said cheerfully, “A small tigress, true. For all the good that’ll do her grandpa.”
Within a minute, the Kushans had cleared the bodies from the small apartment—including, at Kungas’ command, the bodies of the dead family. They would find a priest to give them the rites. The two dead Malwa assassins would be tossed into a dung-heap. After their interrogation, the two still alive would follow them.
Kungas and Holkar were left alone in the room.
“That was very close,” commented Holkar. The statement was not a criticism, simply an observation.
“There will be another,” replied the Kushan commander. “And another after that. It’s obvious that the Keralan authorities will turn a blind eye to Malwa spies and assassins coming after her. We must get the Empress to a place of safety, Dadaji—and soon. After today, she will no longer let me use Jijabai as her double.”
Kungas’ shoulders twitched. Coming from another man, the gesture would have been called a shrug. “I can only protect her for so long, here in Muziris.”
Holkar broke into a little smile. “How about Deogiri?” he asked. Then, laughed outright, seeing Kungas’ face. For once—just for an instant—there had been an expression on that iron mask. Kungas’ eyes had actually widened. In another man, the gesture would have been called a goggle.
“Deogiri?” he choked. “Are you mad? The place is a Malwa stronghold! It’s the largest city in Majarasthra, except for Bharakuccha. The Malwa have a garrison of—”