It was different with the Rani Amrita. She may have been all that Jagrati had despised, but the habits of a lifetime had overridden her hatred.
I pitied the Spider Queen, mayhap more than I ought to. When Bao asked quietly if we should remove the rings and bangles that adorned her fingers and wrists, I shook my head. “Let her keep them,” I said. “There’s more stolen treasure than anyone needs within the walls of this bedamned place. Let her take the baubles she died wearing to the afterlife with her. Maybe it will ease her angry spirit.”
Bao looked relieved. “Good.”
Together, we wound Jagrati into a shroud; and both of us were relieved to have it done.
There was a blend of joy and sorrow in the procession that departed from Kurugiri when the work of gathering the dead was finished. Sorrow for the losses incurred, joy at the innocent victims liberated, the women and children of the harem who still looked happy and dazed at their good fortune. Only the tulku Laysa appeared serene and unsurprised, but nonetheless glad and grateful.
Amrita hugged me close in farewell, tears in her eyes. “Promise me you will be well, Moirin! I do hate leaving you here.”
I returned her embrace, kissing her cheek. “It’s only for a little while, my lady.”
“Too long, even so.” She laughed ruefully, wiping her eyes. “We must have known one another in a different life, eh? Or else how could you have become so dear to me so quickly?”
“Moirin does,” Bao informed her. I gave him a sharp look, and he grinned at me. “What? You do.”
“You do,” Amrita agreed. “So, my bad boy Bao! You will keep her safe for all of us, eh?”
He pressed his palms together and bowed to the Rani. “I have determined it is my life’s work, highness.”
I rolled my eyes.
Bao snuck a glance at me, still grinning.
“He only pretends to jest,” Amrita observed, her hands forming a mudra. “But I will hold you to your promise, Bao-ji. And I will remind you that it is Moirin who came here to rescue you.”
He sobered. “I do not forget it, highness. I will not ever forget it.”
“That is well, then.” Amrita’s radiant smile returned, her irrepressible laughter chiming like golden bells. “And I shall have great fun planning your wedding!”
Together, Bao and I watched the Rani Amrita and her procession depart, entering the long, winding labyrinth, men on foot and men on horseback, some riding double with women or children behind them in the saddle, some carrying terrible burdens, escorting the joyful living with care, carrying the lamented dead with dignity and honor-and the unlamented dead, too.
I sighed.
Bao kissed me, his lips lingering on mine. “The Rani was right, Moirin. I was not jesting.”
“I know.” I stroked the nape of his neck, feeling the strong sinew drawn tight beneath his skin. Naamah’s gift stirred in me, and Kamadeva’s diamond sang to it; but it was not right yet. Not here, not now. “Shall we go count some jewels?”
He nodded. “Let’s.”
SEVENTY-FIVE
Taking inventory of Kurugiri’s treasures was a prodigious task. The coffers in Jagrati’s private chambers alone revealed untold wealth.
“Stone and sea!” I plucked out an impossibly long strand of pearls the size of quail eggs, each one perfectly spherical and uniform in shape, shimmering with an iridescent pinkish hue. “How would someone even wear such a thing?”
“Looped three times around the neck, Moirin,” Bao said briefly. “Sudhakar, make a note. One strand of pearls, three arm-lengths long.”
“Yes, Bao!” the young man said eagerly, adding in an apologetic tone, “Only, I cannot write.”
We found someone who could, since Bao could write only in Ch’in characters, and I could write only in the Western alphabet, neither of which the Bhodistani could read.
One by one, we catalogued the pieces in Jagrati’s coffers.
A gold filigree hairpiece set with emeralds, another set with sapphires and seed pearls.
An ornamental dagger with three large emeralds forming the hilt, sheathed in a golden scabbard encrusted with diamonds.
Countless gold and silver bangles and anklets.
A collar wrought of rubies and diamonds crafted in the shape of glittering flowers with blood-red centers.
Rings set with every manner of gemstone.
Gaudy and elaborate brooches dripping with jewels.
On and on it went, an endless and dazzling array. We found the famous Phoenix Stone, the immense ruby for which the Maharaja of Chodur and his bride had been slain, tucked away in the corner of a coffer and forgotten.
It wasn’t just jewelry, either. There were shelves of jewel-bright miniature paintings on ivory panels depicting warriors riding to battle on the backs of elephants, hunters on horseback cornering a tiger, opulent scenes of court life. There were the gilded lamps and braziers, many of the former encrusted with gems. There were decorative vessels carved from ivory and carnelian. We found an entire trunk of gilded bronze votive figures depicting the Bhodistani pantheon in intricate detail.
“Why would Jagrati want these stolen for her?” I asked in bewilderment, holding a many-armed statue of the goddess Durga. “She claimed to hate the gods.”
Bao glanced at it. “I don’t think this was all her doing,” he said. “There was a fair bit of treasure already here. Lord Khaga let her claim what she wished, and when she tired of it, he got her more.” He shrugged. “It would be like her to claim images of gods and hide them away. Having been denied access to them all her life, it would please her to deny them to others. I never knew what was in that trunk,” he added. “I never saw her open it.”
It reminded me in an unpleasant way that Bao must have spent a great deal of time in this bedchamber. He had been one of her favorites.
Seeing the thought on my face, he looked away. “Let’s just keep going, huh?”
I nodded. “One gilded statue of Durga with…” I counted. “Eighteen arms,” I said to Govind, the elderly steward who was recording the inventory for us.
After we had finished with Jagrati’s hoard, there was the rest of the fortress to catalogue. Mostly its valuable furnishings consisted of furniture and wall-hangings, but there was an extensive set of gold serving-ware inlaid with precious stones that took a long time. There were still the injured men to tend to, which delayed the process, although happily, the wounded were progressing well.
Altogether, the inventory took days, and when we were done, I didn’t care if I never saw another piece of jewelry or treasure again.
“No?” Bao smiled a little when I announced it. “A good thing, since I don’t have any money to keep you in gold and jewels.” His smile faded. “Or any money at all, really. I don’t have much to offer you, Moirin.”
“You have yourself, and that’s enough.” I hesitated, unconsciously fingering the awkward lump of Kamadeva’s diamond in my pocket. “But… Bao, do you think Jagrati’s shadow is always going to be between us?”
“No.” He ran a hand over his hair, which he’d cropped into its former unruly shock before leaving Bhaktipur-although the gold hoops remained in his earlobes. I hadn’t asked why. “No, I don’t. But being here…” He shuddered. “There are too many memories. When we go, I mean to leave them behind.”
“I could take them from you,” I offered quietly. “If you wished it.”
After only the briefest of pauses, Bao shook his head. “Good men died to remove Jagrati and Lord Khaga from this world. To rid myself of those memories would dishonor their sacrifice.”