‘Be the first to uncover the future? Yes, we are all doing that, but not by bringing books back to the dorm.’ She smiled like a cat-killer. ‘I was searching for someone to pass on this duty to, and now I have found you. Despite Sister Mercy’s best efforts, some young brute from Meru has signed up for a month’s internship with our House. You will be assigned to him; teach him our ways.’

‘Ugh…’

Matron Limp raised her eyebrows. Masha tried staring. She too, was a Matron now, albeit unnamed. But who was she kidding? Matron Limp could outstare a statue and make it cry.

‘Certainly, Matron.’

‘Very good. I trust the books will find their way back to the shelves by dawn.’

‘Yes, Matron.’

Someone coughed and wheezed. Masha thought of the man in her dreams and shuddered again. She pushed the image out of her mind, picking up the journals from under the bedsheet. She dared not sleep again. Now that she was awake, she might as well go on reading. She splashed a little water on her eyes from the pitcher beside her bed, and lit her candle, of which only a short stub remained.

Hmm, so where were we? She took a deep, steadying breath. Ah yes, the Journals on Shakuni and Nala. She turned to the volumes she had stolen and began to read: ‘Shakuni had lived through a year of torture and survived to return to stand before the bosses of his tormentors. Or rather, lean before them, like the twisted string of a kite losing altitude. He was a pitiful shadow of the man he used to be. It wasn’t well known but he often lost control of his leg, and sometimes, his face, if you could call what remained a face. His bowels didn’t listen to him either. He was in constant pain. And the memories of the time he was a Prince, naturally nagged at him with a wily persistence. Was it any wonder then that he wasn’t a man of warm disposition, given to mercy?’

Masha sighed. She needed something light to read. The life of Shakuni, former Prince of Gandhar, and now Uncle to Prince Duryodhan, was as light as acid. She flipped the pages and came to Nala’s life instead. This was…fun. Nala seemed to be her age, a student in a Brother Order of the Saptarishis, in Meru, a college where young boys studied to be Acharyas. It seemed almost magical to Masha that only a few leagues away, someone like her was cribbing about things as mundane as exams and teachers. Her mood brightened. Matron Limp might think it is a punishment to assign her to take care of the Meru-trainee, but Masha eagerly looked forward to meeting someone who was Nala’s friend. After all, she knew Nala was going to die.

ADHYAYA III: BEST SERVED COLD

ADHYAYA III

BEST SERVED COLD

How did I escape? With difficulty.
How did I plan this moment? With pleasure.
Dumas, The Count of Monte Cristo