Daughter of the Mountains

Chapter 5

Gauri had never ridden a horse before. The people of her kingdom largely preferred mountain lions, especially because of their intelligence and ferocity. Some others, including tourists, preferred the calmer yaks, with their droopy eyes and shaggy coats that made them look like globs of walking brooms with horns. Some daring courtiers had even made attempts to tame snow leopards, most of which ended in disastrous consequences.
In any case, there was only one horse, and Gauri was not particularly comfortable riding this close to a man. So, her father, with a surprising lack of grumbling, asked their carriage-man to take her in her carriage. Hari protested, pointing out that it would be too conspicuous. “We don’t want to draw unnecessary attention, do we now?”
The whole affair was vaguely patronizing. Gauri avoided this discussion, until it was decided that she would take Dawon, one of their younger lions, who had been born a few years ago, and delivered from Shailadesha to the runway King with enviable promptness. Hari would be still riding his horse.
Moinak and King Himvat hovered by her side as she packed, and made Hari promise several times to ‘let no danger befall her’ (her father) and ‘not lose her, okay?’ (her brother). The chaos was very satisfying, though their over-protectiveness made her rather irritated.
As they were finally leaving, Dhaula came up, and not to be left out of the group swearing to dissect Hari in case something happened to her, put his hand over his heart said, “I am an old man, Lord, and I have served my King for eighteen long years. Please take care of our daughter. What you say gives us hope of regaining our motherland. They say you are noble and kind. Do not let our hopes be crushed. There can be nothing crueler.”
Hari nodded solemnly, “I understand, Chief. You, and all the brave men and women assembled here, fear not. Princess Parvati is safe with me.”
Gauri only rolled her eyes.
The camp had been sufficiently left behind when Hari turned to her with a teasing smirk and said, “Was there anyone who didn’t threaten me?”
Gauri snorted, “Dawon didn’t, though I am sure that is because he is here with me now.”
The lion tossed his shaggy head under her hands and let out a low growl as if to punctuate her statement. Hari chuckled, “Point taken, angry one.”
Dawon turned his nose up in the air and did not dignify that with an answer.
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It was late when they decided to stop for the night. Gauri, who had spent nearly all her life moving from camp to camp in a bid to evade Mahishasur while simultaneously rallying the people of Aryavart against him, was not too worried about it until she realized that there was, in fact, no one to fulfill the tasks that were required to set up a night shelter.
Thankfully, Hari was pretty adept at most things. He brought in large logs that she gathered in a pile and set alight with a tinderbox. She helped him carry a dew pails of water from a nearby stream, then spread a thick blanket on the ground and flopped down on it. Picking up the food basket packed by one of the local women, she asked, “What do you want? There is rice and dal, a few rotis with aloo sabzi, a packet of moori, a slab of uncooked paneer – what are we supposed to do with that anyway? – a pot of kheer, a pot of payesh that has half spilled over, lots of curd, sweets, huh… what is going on?”
Hari grinned like a child on his birthday and tugged the basket out of her hands. “Believe me,” he winked at her, “your aunties knew exactly what they were doing.”
Saying so, he pulled out the pot of kheer, dipped his fingers into it, lifted up a handful of sloppy pudding and directly transferred it into his mouth. Gauti could not keep from cringing. “You are a boor,” she informed him crossly.
Pulling out a roti, she broke off a piece, scooped up a little sabzi and daintily put it in her mouth, ignoring how her companion stuffed his face.
“Foo shoof nof,” Hari swallowed and tried again, “you should not be so straitlaced about food. Food is fuel for the body. It is not a chore, nor a way to show superiority. See, everybody needs food. Let it be a cause for pleasure.”
Gauri wrinkled her nose, “Did you at least wash your hands?”
Hari looked scandalised. “Of course, what do you take me for?”
“Believe me,” Gauri said dryly, “you don’t want me to answer that.”
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Early next morning, Gauri was rudely awakened by a criminally cheerful Hari. “Gauri…” he sang, “daughter of the mountains, lady of the plains; the time has come to rise and shine again.”
Gauri groaned and aimed a futile kick at him. “It is so early, it's not even morning. The sun hasn’t risen yet. Must we do this now?”
“Yes, sister. I’m afraid so. We should at least start your training.”
Gauri, who had forgotten all about the training and instead had focused on the adventure part of it, moaned in protest.
Nonetheless, she got up, freshened herself and stretched in the cool morning air. “So, what do you want me to do?”
Hari scratched his chin thoughtfully, “What kind of games did you usually play as a child?”
Gauri gave him dubious look, “The usual for princess: chausar, pachisi, ashtapada and the like. I used to play tag and hide-and-seek with bhaiyya. Afterwards, that is.”
They both knew what that meant.
“So, mostly board-games. Nothing physically taxing, right? No leapfrog or…”
Gauri gave him a wry look. “Leapfrog is not the most appropriate game for a princess, you know?”
Hari nodded. Then he gave her another of his naughty grins, “You played tag with your brother, right?”
Gauri was instantly suspicious, “Yeah?”
“Well, this brother demands a game of tag too.”
Saying thus, Hari ran off. Gauri gaped after him. “Weren’t we supposed to be training? Why are we playing then? Ai! Bhaiyya! Wait,” she yelled at him.
Hari hollered back, “I changed my mind! Come on!!”
Gauri stared for a few more precious seconds, and charged after him.

Playing tag with Hari, Gauri discovered, was vastly different from playing tag with Moinak. For one, Hari did not appear to know the difference between tagging and chasing. For another, he would not stop teasing her. Gauri had to hold back several colourful terms that rose up to her lips as she dashed after her long-legged companion.
When she finally could run no longer, she sank down on a protruding root and tried to call out to Hari.
“Bhai- ,” a burning lungful of cool morning air, “Bhaiyya stop. Come back.”
Hari came back without having to be told twice. He sat down opposite her, quirked his lips and inquired almost politely, “How was it, princess?”
Gauri was getting tired of his inexplicable smiles and endless mirth. Here she was, almost dying from fatigue, hurt in places she did not know she had until they started aching, and this man had the gall to ask her how it went? She shook her head, frustrated. How could she face Mahisha like this? Why were they even playing instead of-
“Oh,” Gauri squeaked, “this is the training, isn't it?”
Hari nodded, pleased, “Yes, along with a comprehensive knowledge of astras, shashtras and maya, it is important to be swift and agile. Your body should not betray you at some crucial point in battle. It should be an instrument at your command, a vessel slave to your mind and soul. You were pretty decent today, but your stamina needs to be worked upon. You’re fast, and you feint well, but you are easily tired.”
“Yeah,” Gauri agreed, feeling a little lost.
Hari got up and dusted leaves from his dhoti. “Don't worry,” he said, offering her a hand, “it will get better, I promise.”
They walked in easy silence to their camp. Dawon came to Gauri to get his mane scratched and his belly rubbed. Hari’s horse whinnied and trotted up to her. Gauri patted him on his big wet nose. The horse snorted in pleasure and Dawon pawed at her hand jealously. Hari laughed at the sight. Everything seemed to make him laugh.
“What is your horse’s name?” Gauri asked him.
Hari, who had taken out the paneer and was devotedly subjecting it to last night’s performance, wiped his mouth with his hand and stretch his legs. The trees rustled around them, answering with Hari, “He is not mine. I borrowed him off Surya Deva. I don’t use horses.”
“What do you use then?”
“Garuda. He’s a who, not a what.”
“Okay,” Gauri acknowledged, “who is Garuda?”
“He’s a kite – the bird I mean. The King of kites.”
“And he carries you around?”
Hari gave her a distant smile, “He and Shesha are very dear to me, but I would never keep anyone by force. They stay with me because they choose to.”
“Who is Shesha?”
“The King of snakes,” Hari grinned broadly at her, “he’s one sassy thing. I hope you meet him. You will like each other, I think.”
This time, when Gauri looked at Hari, she saw a different person. If what Hari said was true, then this perpetually mirthful man was worthy enough to command the willing personal service of two kings. He appeared so easygoing on the outset, but surely, he must have done something great.
Hari smirked at her as if he knew what she was thinking. Gauri did not touch breakfast that day.