Read Online The Palace of Illusions by Chitra Banerjee Divakaruni - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Chitra Banerjee Divakaruni
Ads: Link
must have got mixed up when they pushed us out from the fire. He should have been the girl, and I the boy!
“I wish Father hadn't made this decision so hastily,” he said.
“You're just jealous that I get to choose my own spouse when you don't!” I joked. As a matter of fact, Dhri was quite taken with the neighboring princess to whom our father had betrothed him. I'd surprised him a couple of times, gazing solemnly at her portrait, which he kept hidden behind a stack of scrolls. But a question gnawed at me: Why would our father, who delighted in control, allow me so much freedom?
“Is it really going to happen?” I asked Dhri. “Or is he going to suddenly change his mind?”
“It'll happen. He's sent out a hundred messengers to invite the most important kings. Pleasure palaces are already being built for them and—”
But Krishna—when had he entered the room?—laughed, startling me.
“Oh, it'll happen, Krishnaa, but it may not be what you're imagining. Truth, like a diamond, has many facets. Tell her, Dhris-tadyumna. Tell her about the test.”
This was what they'd planned, my father the king, along with his ministers and priests, for the good of Panchaal and the honor of the house of Drupad: before the wedding, there would be a test of skill. The king who won it would be the one I'd garland.
“Why even call it a swayamvar, then?” I cried. “Why make a spectacle of me before all those kings? It's my father, not I, who gets to decide whom I'll marry.”
Dhri looked unhappy, but he spoke firmly. “No, fate will decide that. It's not an ordinary test that Father's setting your suitors. They must pierce a fish made of metal, revolving high on the ceiling of the wedding hall.”
His support of our father made me angrier. “What's so difficult about that? Isn't that the first thing warriors learn, how to hit a moving target? Or do your enemies sit on the battlefield, waiting for your arrow to come and find them?”
“There's more to it,” he explained, his voice patient. “They can't look directly at the target but only at its reflection in a pool of whirling water. They must shoot five arrows through a tiny hole in a shield to hit the target. Nor can they use their own weapons.”
“They must use the Kindhara, the heaviest bow in existence,” Krishna added helpfully. “Your father borrowed it, after much supplication, from the gods. There's only a handful of warriors in the world today strong enough to lift it up, and fewer still that can string it.”
I glared at them both. “Wonderful!” I said. “So he's set them an impossible task! Is he mad?”
“Not impossible,” Krishna said. “I know someone who can accomplish it. Arjun, the third Pandava prince, my dearest friend.”
“Arjun?” I said in surprise. “You never told us he was your dearest friend!”
“There are many things I haven't told you,” Krishna said, quite unapologetic.
Dhri's eyes were eager. “Is he really the greatest archer of his time?”
“I think so,” Krishna said. “He's handsome, too, and a great favorite with the ladies. I think our Krishnaa will like him!”
His words had made me curious, though I wouldn't give him the satisfaction of seeing that. “Why would our father want me to marry the man who humiliated him?” I asked.
“Arjun didn't humiliate him!” Dhri said quickly. “He was only following Drona's orders. A warrior has the greatest respect for the man who defeats him in battle.”
Men! They lived by strange rules. I wanted to ask Dhri why our father hated Drona so much, then, since Drona had been the mastermind behind that defeat. But I allowed myself to drift to more pleasant thoughts. To be the beloved of the greatest archer of our time. To be the woman whose smile made his heart beat faster, whose frown wounded him almost to death, whose advice guided his most important decisions. Could this be the way I was meant to change history?
Krishna smiled slyly, as though he knew what
“I wish Father hadn't made this decision so hastily,” he said.
“You're just jealous that I get to choose my own spouse when you don't!” I joked. As a matter of fact, Dhri was quite taken with the neighboring princess to whom our father had betrothed him. I'd surprised him a couple of times, gazing solemnly at her portrait, which he kept hidden behind a stack of scrolls. But a question gnawed at me: Why would our father, who delighted in control, allow me so much freedom?
“Is it really going to happen?” I asked Dhri. “Or is he going to suddenly change his mind?”
“It'll happen. He's sent out a hundred messengers to invite the most important kings. Pleasure palaces are already being built for them and—”
But Krishna—when had he entered the room?—laughed, startling me.
“Oh, it'll happen, Krishnaa, but it may not be what you're imagining. Truth, like a diamond, has many facets. Tell her, Dhris-tadyumna. Tell her about the test.”
This was what they'd planned, my father the king, along with his ministers and priests, for the good of Panchaal and the honor of the house of Drupad: before the wedding, there would be a test of skill. The king who won it would be the one I'd garland.
“Why even call it a swayamvar, then?” I cried. “Why make a spectacle of me before all those kings? It's my father, not I, who gets to decide whom I'll marry.”
Dhri looked unhappy, but he spoke firmly. “No, fate will decide that. It's not an ordinary test that Father's setting your suitors. They must pierce a fish made of metal, revolving high on the ceiling of the wedding hall.”
His support of our father made me angrier. “What's so difficult about that? Isn't that the first thing warriors learn, how to hit a moving target? Or do your enemies sit on the battlefield, waiting for your arrow to come and find them?”
“There's more to it,” he explained, his voice patient. “They can't look directly at the target but only at its reflection in a pool of whirling water. They must shoot five arrows through a tiny hole in a shield to hit the target. Nor can they use their own weapons.”
“They must use the Kindhara, the heaviest bow in existence,” Krishna added helpfully. “Your father borrowed it, after much supplication, from the gods. There's only a handful of warriors in the world today strong enough to lift it up, and fewer still that can string it.”
I glared at them both. “Wonderful!” I said. “So he's set them an impossible task! Is he mad?”
“Not impossible,” Krishna said. “I know someone who can accomplish it. Arjun, the third Pandava prince, my dearest friend.”
“Arjun?” I said in surprise. “You never told us he was your dearest friend!”
“There are many things I haven't told you,” Krishna said, quite unapologetic.
Dhri's eyes were eager. “Is he really the greatest archer of his time?”
“I think so,” Krishna said. “He's handsome, too, and a great favorite with the ladies. I think our Krishnaa will like him!”
His words had made me curious, though I wouldn't give him the satisfaction of seeing that. “Why would our father want me to marry the man who humiliated him?” I asked.
“Arjun didn't humiliate him!” Dhri said quickly. “He was only following Drona's orders. A warrior has the greatest respect for the man who defeats him in battle.”
Men! They lived by strange rules. I wanted to ask Dhri why our father hated Drona so much, then, since Drona had been the mastermind behind that defeat. But I allowed myself to drift to more pleasant thoughts. To be the beloved of the greatest archer of our time. To be the woman whose smile made his heart beat faster, whose frown wounded him almost to death, whose advice guided his most important decisions. Could this be the way I was meant to change history?
Krishna smiled slyly, as though he knew what
Similar Books
