Dhanurana: Chapter 8 "The Records"

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“If they’re here, they’d be in this hall,” Aarushi Aabha said, wrapping her hands around the bronze lock bar to the Keep’s records. She prepared her stance, ready to war it free, and yanked it to the side. The thick door creaked as it slid open.

The hall inside was a corridor descending in levels like an elaborate staircase. Rows and rows of shelving sat on each section of the walls, filled with slabs of clay detailing every possible record from taxes to war, conversations or raids between governors, even a few reports dating far back to the Rivers and their fall including the descriptions of how the spillover of their collapse created the Lost Valley south of Daksin. There were even codices of foreign lands and their magic. Desks waited on every level diving deep into the earth. Should an extension be needed for new records the hall was simply lengthened with the most commonly used volumes kept at the front. Janurana took a few tentative steps forward, half forgetting she didn’t need permission to cross every threshold inside a house into which she was already invited. Her eyes quickly focused and adjusted to the darkness as she searched for the end of the corridor. It was almost hypnotic. She closed her eyes again, taking a deep breath of the scent of aging knowledge only the nobles knew.

Dhanur pulled a piece of pyrite and flint from her belt. She prepared to strike up a small wick on a nearby table, but noticed the last remnants of an oil lamp’s wick flickering away further into the hall. She walked down to light a much larger torch from the wall sending the warm light flooding into the hallway.

The light from the torch traveled far further than the lamp and knocked Janurana back two steps through the door. Just like the fires outside the walls, she was unable to pass through the new barrier. Instead of asking, she continued to gawk at the hall of records until called.

Dhanur watched Janurana stare, standing on her tiptoes as if she were peering over a cliff. She narrowed her eyes.

“Come on,” Dhanur beckoned.

Janurana quickly pushed through the barrier while Dhanur twisted the torch to let the fire catch a hold all around it and blew out the lamp.

“Shzahd?” Aarushi made her way to the enormous clay index slab sitting upon a pedestal worthy of its girth in the middle of the path leading down. “Shzahd? We would first begin by trying to remember your family name or a trade.”

Wishing she could continue staring deep into the abyss, Janurana took a quick glance around the room. There were no other nobles, nor even a guard. She caught eyes with Dhanur, who simply nodded. Janurana sighed. She shook her head, patted her temple, and picked at her cuticles.

“Malihabar. That is my family name. But, that’s all I have.” Janurana sucked her teeth.

“You surely must remember something more, Shzahd. Perhaps you have your family seal?” asked Aarushi Aabha, offering a reassuring tone.

“I would have mentioned!” Janurana snapped. An almost unearthly rage growled from her deepest depths. “A moment to!-” Janurana caught herself and bowed, hands pressed together and touching her forehead. “I apologize, Great Maharani. I’ve found myself emotional, excuse my outburst.”

Dhanur and Aarushi were taken aback by such vehement anger, sounding as if Janurana currently sat upon a throne with armies under her command ready to act out her rage. Regardless, Aarushi returned to the task at hand first with simple minded focus.

“I’ll start searching. Do you remember the region in which they resided?” Aarushi Aabha spoke softly, bending over to scrutinize the miniscule carvings in the clay.

“How did you get Inside? How do you not have a seal?” Dhanur pulled Janurana aside.

“Do you?” Janurana shot back and yanked her arm away.

“Shzahd?” Aarushi called.

“Yes, my Maharani?”

“Do you remember the region in which they resided?” She repeated with the exact same tone.

Janurana’s eyes grew with the slow intake of breath as her lips tightened. ‘A few more nights in a bed would have been nice,’ she thought.

Aarushi Aabha’s cocked her head. With dull minded simplicity, searching the list of family names. Dhanur, holding the torch aloft, released a silent sigh at Aarushi Aabha’s vapid reaction.

“Maaaa…” Aarushi Aabha thought aloud, focusing on the index before her.

As she trailed through the names, her fingers gliding with poise and care, Janurana’s expression continued to tighten.

‘A few more days of peace. Another few nights in a bed without thinking of this,’ Janurana growled in her mind, miming the words with her lips.

She drifted back into the nearest shelf. When she bumped into it she felt herself shaking. She tried her best to calm herself, gripping her parasol for its comfort but dropped it as she knew any more twists might break it. As it left her hands fear and apprehension, anger and frustration, it all descended on her in an overwhelming wave. Her knees buckled and she collapsed, tablets from the shelf coming loose and clattering to the ground.

“Whoa! Janurana, what?” Dhanur leapt to her side.

She was ignored. Janurana drew in a heavy wheeze before catching her breath, bracing herself on the ground. As quickly as her episode came, it passed. She stood up, smoothing her clothes.

Dhanur was frozen mid-reach, concern wrinkling her features. Then came confusion and annoyance. “What was that?”

“I just wish,” Janurana sucked her teeth. “I told you I didn’t want to do this.”

“What?” Dhanur’s mouth hung open while Janurana straightened her back and returned to her place beside the Maharaj, who was still hunched over the index, only looking over and waiting for the situation to resolve. She didn’t even register Janurana’s real name.

“All is well, my Maharani. Shall the search continue?” Janurana said with poise.

Dhanur stared, then glared, then growled. She angrily stormed over, ready to slam the torch into the Maharaj’s hand, but thought better of it. She lit the wick on the stand so Aarushi could actually see what she was reading, and glimpsed into her empty eyes. With a single slow blink she passed through the door, slotted the torch in a sconce outside, took up post in the middle of the doorway, and turned purposely away from the two high-born women inside.

“Now, where were we?” Janurana asked, giving Dhanur only the slightest mind.

While they worked, Dhanur bounced her leg and firmly crossed her arms as she sulked in the doorway. Occasionally she’d peek down the halls seeing only a single Keep guard staring her down and hang her head at the memories she had among the Keep’s halls. Instantly, her mind returned to Aarushi, who was only a few arm lengths away, but may as well have been in Uttara or south in the Rivers. They were so quiet behind her, so focused. She peeked behind only to see the Maharaj’s back, bent ever so slightly over the index. Janurana’s dangerously perfect posture was obvious as she lit a second wick and descended into the depths to find a referenced slab among the shelves. As she offered her findings to Aarushi Abba, Dhanur watched them pour over the increasingly old tablets. With them being side by side, they could have been mistaken for sisters. Their rounded features and thick black hair, Aarushi’s straight, Janurana’s so curly, their highborn posture and well-made clothes, the resemblance was striking, though Aarushi’s nose was sharper and Janurana’s brows thicker. Dhanur sighed.

Janurana’s polite smile remained, her episode long past. She was sucking her teeth often, though.

Each slab the Maharaj and Kumari examined required more and more care as they discovered further and further damage to the information chiseled upon them. Sometimes entire tablets were missing, or whole rows gouged out from them.

Janurana was happy to see little of her family mentioned. But as she further inspected the slabs, doing her best to brush off any flecks of dust from each one she brought, she noticed how odd they were. Janurana reached inside her sari, feeling her seal to remind herself what an old clay slab should feel like.

The ones she found looked and felt recently altered, and the Maharaj was even more confused.

“I can’t find a mention of Malihabar, my dear. It must be in these blocks that are so badly damaged. I’m so sorry. I was assured the Keep was to withstand the likes of fires or rains, but clearly, my masons were mistaken.”

Janurana looked back and forth between the slabs at names similar to her last.

Mali, Malik, Malindani. That one sounded vaguely familiar to her. Mavya.

She looked, and looked again. The Maharaj stepped aside and Janurana fully poured over them. Her own confusion superseded her desire to not think about her family. Interspersed in their research were a plethora of blocks with scratches, chips, and pieces missing, which on its own was not alarming. Such changes could easily be revisions or poor record keeping, but the true oddities were the oversaturation of burn marks and water damage, none of which had faded or sunken into the porous clay as one would expect over time. Other names were damaged but not in such a way and none were fully removed with recent defacement.

Dhanur crept closer to see what had gone wrong. She dug her palm into her forehead, not only unsure of what to say to ease the distress, but also increasingly frustrated at her failure which made her head hurt more. Her one friendly suggestion had come to naught.

And despite Janurana looking like Aarushi, her seemingly providential arrival at the inn didn’t look like a sign to Dhanur anymore. The Maharaj was still only a few arms away, but remembered nothing, and she couldn’t even help the poor, unfortunate soul that showed up at her inn table. It was a complete failure, not like the heroes in the stories plastered over temple walls, and Dhanur hung her head again.

Aarushi Aabha laid a hand on Janurana’s shoulder, almost feeling her pulse through the thick fabric of her sari as they all stood in silence.

“Join me for a meal. I must offer my condolences. I can hardly imagine how lost you must be.” The Maharaj finally broke the thick air that had settled on the three of them.

Janurana was lost in thought and slipped out from under the Maharaj’s hand. She froze after two steps, realizing she had shown terrible disrespect ignoring Aarushi Aabha, but the Maharaj was simply waiting for a response as if nothing else registered. Janurana fell back into her thoughts and returned the records to the shelves. As she gingerly slotted them back to their marked positions, she used it as an excuse to consolidate her thoughts and regain her composure in peace.

The lack of damage to other houses weighed on her. Other names had been damaged, but none so completely purged as her own. Despite everything Janurana had forgotten or even blocked out, she remembered the battle that brought low her home clearly, except the ending. She thought erasing the name of your enemy couldn’t be that important, that it was surely a mark of pride. She did happen to remember some of the victory trophies displayed in the family home.

“Thank you,” she called out as she ascended the stairs. “But I couldn’t do that, great Maharani. It’s not necessary.” She gripped the shelf as she collected her thoughts.

“If only we could interview my record keepers. But, unfortunately, my dear, they are perpetually gathering information and meeting with my hands. The best I can do…” she trailed off to a murmur and her eyes lost focus as she struggled with her next words. “Is tell you… where to go…” She placed her fingers to her temples and struggled to concentrate. “To have a good meal.”

Janurana glanced at Dhanur, who only tightened her lips and turned away. Flexing her hands against her parasol instead of the shelves, Janurana continued to mull over the new attack on her family’s name.

‘So, the Maharaj really didn’t know anything about this.’ She thought, remembering Dhanur’s zealous assertion that Aarushi Aabha wasn’t a gwomoni. ‘But they couldn’t have recognized me at the gate. It had been too long.’

Janurana’s thoughts dragged on and the Maharaj continued to stew in her catatonia. Determined not to give her stimuli and snap her to lucidity, Janurana gently took a few steps back, grasped Dhanur’s shoulder, and turned so their backs faced Aarushi Aabha.

“Janurana, I’m so sorry,” Dhanur babbled with a hushed tone and without the energy to raise it. She was fisting her hands so hard that if she didn’t have her gloves her nails would have drawn blood. “I get now ya really didn’t wanna do this but I just wanted to help and it just ended up failing and I shouldn’t’ve forced you to come that was selfish and stupid and now you’re upset and seeing Aarushi-”

“It’s okay, calm down, please.” Janurana shook her head dismissively, her lips pressed together in thought.

Her commanding tone brought Dhanur’s spiral to a halt, like an officer who needed their soldier to focus. It was as commanding as her outburst before but far more fitting.

“I don’t know if you overheard but my name…” Janurana shook her head again. “My family’s name isn’t simply worn away. It’s gone. Removed.”

“What, like, carved out?”

“Exactly. There was some organic damage to other names, but not recent and not so absolutely gouged. Mine was. There’s still clay dust, no doubt it was chiseled, and purposefully.”

Dhanur processed the information. “I heard her mention fires and rain. So, I’m guessing any soot is there still? And the water hasn’t soaked into the clay?”

“I think you’d agree with me that the Maharaj doesn’t look to be in a state to order destruction of any records. And I don’t want to further alarm her.”

Dhanur peeked behind her and Janurana copied. Aarushi Aabha was shaking her head, blinking rapidly. Janurana spoke almost too quickly for Dhanur to follow. Almost.

“They tried to do this far too recently. Likely soon after I passed the walls.” Janurana peeked back again at Aarushi Aabha.

Dhanur’s heart raced and a genuine smile tugged at her lips. If her inner voice could, it would have patted her back and said ‘I told you so’. Not only did Janurana look like Aarushi, she was sounding like the Maharaj used to as well.

Both women’s ears perked at the sound of a footstep. They faced her simultaneously and bowed. The Maharaj had awoken.

“Kumari, warrior? I’m so sorry. I’ve lost myself. Will you please join me for a meal? I’m truly beside myself with grief on your behalf.” She took a few more steps forward to reconvene with the pair.

Janurana replied in measured and confident words, “If our Maharani will allow me to speak to my escort for a moment to decide our next course of action.”

“Ah. I understand. Please.” She turned her back and the pair turned theirs, continuing in hushed whispers.

“The gwomoni did this to her.” Dhanur’s previously budding smile had fallen to a scowl bordering on venomous. “After the war and we tried to remove them.” she sighed heavily. “Couldn’t kill her. Too weird to have a young Maharaj die all of a sudden. She’s leverage too. To keep me quiet.”

As Dhanur seethed with anger, the obvious realization smacked into Janurana as she suddenly felt her seal in her pocket. “They know who I am and that I’m here. We should probably get out of their domain.”

“But they never killed me, and they’ve left us without guards. You’d be surprised by how cocky they can get.”

“And do you want to bet on those dice now that there are two obvious targets deep within their home?”

Dhanur paused, locking eyes, and then gave Janurana a gentle pat on the back to break off the conversation.

“Ahem, my Maharani.” Janurana turned and gave an extended bow as Aarushi Aabha was drawn from her waiting. “We thank you thoroughly for your assistance, but we must take our leave. My companion and I wish you well. Long may you rule.”

Dhanur copied Janurana and, with the bows, the Maharaj came to her senses and joined the conversation, slotting into the goodbyes.

“Oh. Yes. Of course.” Aarushi shook her head as if waking up. “I bid you farewell. I hope the information you obtained was applicable to your cause.” With her own bow, she escorted them out.

As they departed, staying clearly on the side of Aarushi Aabha opposite the guards, Deiweb’s wispy form hung above the torch Dhanur had left lit outside the record hall.

The pair hurried through the Keep, urging Aarushi Aabha when she slowed or strayed. With one eye on every guard they spotted, they did their best to appear nonchalant. Upon reaching the exit to the garden, they gave their goodbyes, bowing once again.

Dhanur locked eyes with the woman who had been her beloved. She tried to take in a breath to quell her bubbling emotions, but she couldn’t inhale at the sight of emptiness behind Aarushi’s eyes. So different from the adventurous fire that had been before the gwomoni had taken hold of her. Aarushi did blink, however slowly, as if there was effort behind it. It wasn’t much, but Dhanur couldn’t wrench herself from them.

Janurana grabbed Dhanur’s arm to tear her away from their stare. They burst through the Keep’s gate the instant the gap was wide enough.

They blew past a few market patrons taking their disputes up to the highest office and others seeking the Maharaj’s judgment. Each ducked out of the way, one lobbing an insult their way as a few others tripped.

Dhanur looked back and saw Aarushi ushered back through the garden by a pair of Keep guards. She gritted her teeth, swallowed the lump in her throat, clenched the tears from her eyes, and yanked her arm back to slow Janurana down.

“Probably a little obvious we were fleeing.” Dhanur leaned in.

“Well, seeing as we are,” Janurana stated, holding up her sari’s hem from the ground by her finger tips, open parasol held between her cheek and shoulder.