The Archer is Soft for the One with the Flute & Peacock Feather

“What will I do,” Ram sobbed into his hands. “What will I do with the weapons, what will I do with victory, if it costs me a friend like him?”

“This isn’t about you, Ram. This fight is bigger than the both of you. It’s bigger than all of us.”

Ram looked up, heartbreak evident in his eyes. “Don’t you see? There is no fight if there’s no one left to fight for. What is a nation, Babai, if not for its people? What is freedom if Malli is locked behind bars? Who am I even fighting for if Bheem is dead?”

Babai crossed his arms, stepping right in front of Ram. “I hear you. I’m not saying what you want to do is wrong. I’m just saying that when you look back on this moment years from now, you should not regret a decision taken in the throes of grief. So dry your tears, and tell me calmly what it is you plan to do.”

All his life, Ram had prided himself on being strong, level-headed, and rational. But he knew that if he ever faltered, his Babai would be right there to set him back on track.

Ram took several deep breaths to calm down. Then he got to his feet. 

“Okay, here’s what we’re going to do.”

As Ram used Babai as a sounding board to refine his plans for Bheem and Malli’s escape, Sakshi listened closely from around the corner. She’d lived in this mansion for long enough to know how sound traveled and where shadows fell at what hour. It was the easiest thing to find a hiding spot from which to eavesdrop.

As they finished putting together a game plan, Sakshi came up with strategic lies she could feed Scott to lead him astray. The governor had wanted to see her tonight, just to make sure Ram hadn’t had a sudden change of heart before Bheem’s hanging.

Sakshi smirked. In the end, it wasn’t Ram’s betrayal Scott should have feared. It was hers.

Suddenly, Sakshi heard her name, causing her to tune back into the conversation.

“…be the person Sakshi thinks I am,” Ram was saying. “I want to be worthy of her love. And-”

“Ram.”

Ram stopped mid-sentence, frowning at the interruption. “What is it, Babai?”

“Repeat that name.”

“What name?”

“This woman who said she loves you. Whom you love. What was her name?”

“Sakshi.”

No sooner had the word left Ram’s mouth than Babai shushed him, casting a furtive glance around the courtyard. Hidden from view, Sakshi frowned. What was going on?

Then Babai began to speak.

“Sakshi is not who you think she is,” he whispered to Ram. “She is Governor Scott’s right hand. She is a weapon of surveillance and destruction. Her loyalties lie with the British.”

Ram stared at him like he’d grown a second head. “Babai, forgive me, but that’s patently insane. She’s a historian.”

“I hear things, Ram. The guards and the servants talk. Sakshi has grown up in this mansion. Scott kidnapped her when she was just a little older than Malli, right after she watched her mother being burned alive.”

“Burned alive?!”

“Sati.”

“Oh.”

“Scott promised her that he would bring a new, civilized future to this land, a future where no woman would be condemned by her own people to die a horrible death, for no crime of her own.”

“And she believed him,” Ram said, horror mounting. 

“She was a child. She wanted justice. She wanted safety. Scott promised her both of those things, things her own community could not - or would not - give her.”

“Babai-”

“Ram, you’ve been an officer in Delhi for over a decade. Sakshi has lived in the mansion this entire time. Why do you think it took you so long to run into her?”

The gears turned in Ram’s head.

“Sakshi isn’t seen unless she wants to be seen. And if she has been watching you, it can only mean one thing.” 

“Governor Scott doesn’t trust me,” Ram realized.

“Yes,” Babai confirmed, “but forget about Scott. If Sakshi wants Bheem out of the way, then he is as good as dead.”

The blood drained from Ram’s face. “She was asking about him. Just yesterday, she asked me where he was.” Ram took his uncle by the shoulders. “New plan. We have to break him out now.”

Sakshi watched the two of them sprint out of the courtyard. Then she slammed her fist into the brick wall, swearing colorfully.

Of all the times for her cover to be blown.

She did some quick calculations. If Ram freed Bheem, then Bheem would immediately try to free Malli, and all of them would most likely be caught.

But if Sakshi freed Malli right now, there was a good chance that they could all get out undetected. 

The only problem with that plan was that she’d miss her meeting with Scott, and he’d come looking for her.

Sakshi paused, tilting her head to the side. Maybe that wasn’t a problem. Maybe it was an opportunity.

She sprinted through the front door of the mansion, rushing right past the torn British flag that no one had bothered to replace. Today, she didn’t need to cover her face. 

When she arrived at Malli’s cell, Sakshi found her sitting hunched over by the bars, tapping on them rhythmically with a twig. Sakshi felt an odd combination of anguish and pride. 

Malli had been through so much at such a young age. The degree of captivity and objectification she’d survived would have driven many an adult to insanity. 

But Malli was an indomitable spirit, Sakshi realized - a force that when imprisoned, would play music on the bars of her cell. The kid would grow up to lead the fight that she’d been made a pawn in. 

Sakshi smiled. Scott never stood a chance.

“Malli,” she said softly. Malli looked up, scrutinizing Sakshi’s face.

“Who?” she asked.

“Your Akka,” Sakshi answered. She placed a hand over her heart. “Remember? Sakshi-akka.”

Malli’s eyes widened in recognition. “Akka! I didn’t see your face last time!”

Sakshi laughed. “Yeah, I was hiding. But I’m not anymore. Are you ready to get out of here?”

“Yes!”

Sakshi pulled a bobby pin out of her own hair and quickly picked the lock. 

“Can you teach me how to do that?” Malli asked in awe.

“Of course,” Sakshi scoffed. “For a smart girl like you? It’s easy.” She took Malli’s hand. “Ok, let’s go. Your Bheem-anna is waiting for you outside.”

Malli set one foot outside the cell and came to a dead stop. 

Sakshi turned around. “Love, what’s wrong? We have to move quickly, come.”

Malli shook her head. She pulled her hand out of Sakshi’s grip. “No. I’m not coming.”

“What? Why?”

Malli blinked back tears. “Akka, it’s okay. I’ll stay here.”

“You will not!”

“I will.”

“Malli-”

“Please, Akka, just go!”

Sakshi got to her knees, tenderly taking Malli’s face in her hands. “Malli, sweetie, it’s okay. Shhhh. Take a breath. There we go.” Sakshi brushed away her tears. “Don’t be scared, love. It’s going to work this time. I’ll get you home.”

“It’s not that,” Malli sniffled. 

“Then what is it?”

“Everyone who tries to help me gets hurt. Amma, Bheem-anna, you…” Malli’s gaze drifted to Sakshi’s gauze-wrapped hand. “It’s okay. I can stay here. I don’t want anyone else to get hurt because of me. I don’t want-” Malli’s voice cracked. “I don’t want them to hurt you or Bheem-anna again.”

Sakshi stood up and turned away, taking a few deep breaths to calm herself down. She was going to kill Scott. She was going to fucking murder him and his wife.

“Akka? Will you please tell Bheem-anna I’m sorry, and that I love him?”

“No,” Sakshi said, feeling Malli’s grief like a physical ache in her chest. She held out a hand to the child. “Whatever you want to tell him, you can tell him yourself.”

Malli hesitated.

“Malli, listen to me. This isn’t your fault. None of this is your fault.”

“But-”

“Fine. If you’re not going, I’m not going.” Sakshi crossed the threshold of the cell and sat down.

Malli panicked. “Akka, Scott will find you!”

“Let him.”

“What if he kills you?!”

“Let him.”

“No,” Malli said, seizing Sakshi’s hand. “Come on, Akka, we’re going. Now.”

“Are you sure?” Sakshi raised an eyebrow.

“Akka, get up!”

Sakshi got to her feet, unable to keep the grin off her face. She scooped Malli into her arms. “Look who finally came to their senses.”

Malli giggled through her tears, looping her arms around Sakshi’s neck. Sakshi carried her all the way to the courtyard. Then she put her down and pointed in the direction of the prison cells.

“See that watchtower?”

Malli nodded.

“Run towards that. Your Bheem-anna will find you.”

“What about you, Akka? Aren’t you coming with us?”

“I am. I just need to take care of something first.”

Malli looked worried, but she nodded. She held out her arms to Sakshi. 

Sakshi got down on her knees and embraced Malli, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead.

“Go. Don’t look back.”

***

Ram threw open the door of Bheem's cell in a panic. Bheem’s head snapped up at the clatter of the bars. When he caught sight of Ram, he froze.

Ram took a step inside. Bheem tensed, bracing for violence.

Tears welled up in Ram’s eyes. The mere thought that Bheem expected - was prepared, even - for Ram to hurt him immediately brought Ram to his knees.

“With what words shall I beg your forgiveness,” Ram wept. He stared at the ground, unable to look Bheem in the eye. “I have done what no friend, no brother, should ever do. When I look in the mirror, I don’t recognize the person I’ve become.”

Ram took a shaky breath, unable to stop the words as they tumbled out of him. There, on his knees in a damp prison cell in the dead of night, he confessed to Bheem every act of violence he had committed in Scott’s service. He told him what he had never told another soul before - how his family was killed, his father’s last words, the mission he had inherited. 

So enveloped was Ram by his remorse that he did not see Bheem’s eyes widen in understanding. He did not see Bheem’s hands jerk in their restraints as he tried to reach out.

“Tammudu,” Ram whispered the endearment like he was afraid it would burn his tongue. “Tammudu, I do not deserve to be forgiven. But please, find it in your heart to trust me. We don’t have much time. I beg of you, trust me to take you and Malli to safety.”

“An- Annayya,” Bheem’s voice was contorted with pain. Ram looked up to see Bheem straining against his chains with enough force that fresh blood dripped from his wrists.

“Bheema, wait! Let me remove…” Ram trailed off as he dug through his pockets for the key to the cuffs.

The moment one hand was free, Bheem brought it up to cradle Ram’s face, tenderly brushing his fingers over Ram’s bruised jaw and black eye.

Bheem closed his eyes, sending tears streaming down his cheeks.

“How could I have ever raised a hand against you in anger? You did everything you could to protect me, and I-” Bheem’s breath caught in his throat. He hid his face in Ram’s chest, clutching at the front of his jacket. “Forgive me, forgive my ignorance. Annayya, I did not know. Please forgive me-”

“Bheema, don’t.” Ram struggled to unlock the second cuff, his vision blurring with new tears. “Don’t apologize. I cannot bear it.”

The lock finally clicked open. As the chain fell to the ground, Ram wrapped his arms around Bheem, holding on as if for dear life.

After a minute, he carded a hand through Bheem’s matted hair.

“I thought I lost you,” Ram confessed, barely above a whisper. Bheem tightened his fists in Ram’s bloodstained jacket, too overcome with emotion to speak. He shook his head where it lay over Ram’s heart.

“Come, Bheema,” Ram said, coaxing Bheem away from him just enough to see his face. “We have to get Malli. We don’t have much time.”

Suddenly, Babai shouted something from outside the cell. A child’s voice responded.

Bheem looked at Ram excitedly. “That’s Malli!”

He stumbled outside, pulling Ram along.

As Bheem gathered the child into his arms, Ram looked around suspiciously. How had Malli escaped?

“Malli,” Ram started, trying not to feel hurt when she looked at him with apprehension. “How did you-”

“Not now,” Babai insisted. “We have to get out of here before the guards realize anything is amiss. Let’s go.”

Malli ran ahead alongside Babai. Bheem followed, his arm slung over Ram’s shoulders for support.

They were almost at the gate when Bheem stopped.

“What is it?” Ram asked urgently.

“Where’s Sakshi-vadina? Shouldn’t we get her? She works here, right? Won’t Scott-”

“Enough, Bheema,” Ram ordered, uncharacteristically firm. He turned away, certain that Bheem would see the fragments of his broken heart in his eyes. “I will never put you in harm’s way again. Not for anything or anyone.”

***

Sakshi returned to her room in the mansion for the last time. She unlatched the iron trunk next to her bed and extracted an ornate bow. She strapped a quiver full of arrows to her back.

When she turned around, she found herself face to face with a livid Scott.

The corners of Sakshi’s mouth curved up in a sinister smile.

“Hello, sir.”

For once in his life, Scott did what any reasonable man would do. He turned and fled.

Sakshi strode after him in pursuit. With her peripheral vision, she noted British troops mobilizing in the courtyard below. One soldier aimed his rifle towards the forest.

Without ever taking her eyes off Scott, Sakshi drew her bow. She listened for the click of the rifle being readied. Then she sent an arrow straight through the soldier’s skull.

All hell broke loose, with soldiers trampling each other to get to cover. Sakshi continued walking after Scott, picking off soldiers one by one on the side every time she passed a window to the courtyard.

Suddenly, someone stepped between Sakshi and Scott. It was Catherine.

“So this is how you repay our years of kindness,” she said, looking down the bridge of her nose at Sakshi. “We should have kept you in a cage, like that girl, Malli.”

Sakshi rolled her eyes. She looked over Catherine’s shoulder just in time to see Scott run around the corner towards the exit. The coward.

“What are you going to do?” Catherine sneered. “A bow is no good at this close a distan-”

Sakshi punched Catherine in the stomach and slung the bow around her neck as she stood doubled over. Then Sakshi pulled, relishing the sound of tracheal rings cracking beneath the bow’s handle.

The governor’s wife slumped to the ground. Sakshi stepped over her lifeless body and forged ahead.

She followed the troops into the forest, taking out anyone who raised a rifle in the direction of Ram, Bheem, Malli, or Babai. Her eyes swept the dark foliage, looking for Scott.

It wasn’t long before she found him. Hidden behind a bush, the governor had his rifle trained on Bheem. Bheem, who was standing directly between Sakshi and her target.

Sakshi cursed under her breath. She lifted her bow, aiming as best as she could. She waited.

A tiny corner of her mind registered the sound of leaves rustling to her right. It tried to warn her. She ignored it.

Bheem lifted his head, and Scott positioned his finger on the trigger. Sakshi pulled the arrow back as far as it would go.

Then several things happened all at once. 

Sakshi released the arrow, which whistled across the clearing and lodged itself in Scott’s throat. The rifle tumbled from Scott’s hand a millisecond before he could pull the trigger.

Unfortunately, on its way to Scott, the arrow grazed Bheem’s earlobe. The wound was small, but if anyone was standing exactly 3 meters to Sakshi’s right, all they would have seen was a near miss of what could easily have been a shot meant to take Bheem’s life. 

Ram was standing 3 meters to Sakshi’s right. As his heart tried to beat out of his chest, he took aim with his own bow.

Seeing that Bheem was safe, Sakshi turned to investigate the sound to her right. What she found was the love of her life standing with his bow drawn, string pulled taut.

“No, wait-”

Ram released the arrow.

Sakshi felt it slam into her chest with the force of a freight train. She stumbled backwards, reaching up to grab the arrow’s shaft.

“Goddamnit, you really just shoot first and ask questions later, huh?” she spat at Ram. She yanked the arrow out of her body with a grunt, crumpling to the ground and propping herself up against a rock.

“Vadina!” Bheem cried, running to her side. He pressed his hands over her wound, desperately trying to stem the bleeding.

Sakshi covered his hand with hers. “Shh, Bheema, it’s okay. Relax. It’s okay.”

“Bheema, get away from her,” Ram ordered. “She wants to kill you.”

“I saved him!” Sakshi shot back, gasping with the effort it took to yell. “Look, Rama.” She pointed shakily towards Scott’s corpse. “I was protecting Bheem. And you. I’ve been protecting you.”

“You work for Scott,” Ram stated without compassion.

Sakshi nodded weakly. “I’m sorry. It’s true that I deceived you. But I never once sold you out to Scott. Even when I knew, I covered for you.”

“When did you-”

“The night after you arrested Bheem. The way you reacted to his name. The way you reacted to my scars. I knew-” Sakshi paused, squeezing her eyes shut in pain. “There was no way you were loyal to the British.”

“But you still went back to Scott.” The coldness in Ram’s voice faltered as doubt crept in. “You were loyal to the British.”

“Even so, I tried to get Malli out of there.”

“Wait,” Ram’s eyes grew wide. “That was you on the ledge. You were the other protector.”

Sakshi nodded.

Ram’s blood turned to ice as he realized what he had done. “But- Sakshi, you- What made you rebel against the British? What changed?”

Sakshi smiled tiredly, looking away to catch Bheem’s gaze. She jerked her chin in Ram’s direction. 

“He has no idea how beautiful he is, does he?”

Bheem sobbed quietly, resting his forehead on Sakshi’s shoulder. Ram panicked.

“Bheema, you need to save her! How can we stop the bleeding? You know the forest. What herbs can-”

“Rama,” Sakshi tried, “there is nothing to be-”

“Don’t tell me there’s nothing to be done! Bheema, please…”

“Annayya,” Bheem whispered, looking at Ram with a love that bordered on hate. “Your aim is never false. When you released this arrow, did you leave room for Vadina to survive?”

“Bheema!”

“No, don’t-” Sakshi struggled to draw a breath. “Don’t yell at him. He’s suffered enough.” She turned to look at Bheem, squeezing his hand where it still lay over her wound. “Bheema, forgive me. Forgive me for taking so long to realize what was right. What needless pain my inaction put you through.”

Bheema shook his head. “Vadina, please don’t, I would endure everything a hundred times over, if only it would change this.”

“I wouldn’t let you.”

A heavy numbness settled over Ram as he watched the two of them converse. His arms felt like lead at his sides. He tried to step towards them, but it was as though his feet were bolted to the ground.

Ram had spent most of his life living through experiences that were worse than death. But nothing had ever hurt like this.

***

Babai held onto Malli’s hand as they ran, trying to put as much space between Malli and the British troops as possible. He knew that Ram and Bheem would be fine; they were fighters. Or so he told himself.

“Babai, please stop,” Malli said, gasping for breath. “Just one second.”

“We have to keep moving, child. We must get to safety. I can carry you if you’re tired.”

“Like Sakshi-akka did.”

“Like- what?” Babai did a double take. “Wait, what?”

Malli sat down on the ground, exhausted. “Sakshi-akka. She’s the one who helped me escape.”

Babai blinked in disbelief. “What? Since when?”

“Since the day Bheem-anna came to the mansion with all the tigers. She carried me all the way up the courtyard wall. She tried to protect me, but Scott broke her hand, and…”

As Malli narrated the events of the past several days, Babai’s face grew ashen.

“She told me how to get to Bheem-anna,” Malli finished. “She said she would come with us.”

“We have to go,” Babai said. He lifted Malli into his arms and sprinted back through the forest. He knew his Ram. He knew that boy never missed a shot. He had to get to Ram before… before…

They were too late. 

“Akka!” Malli wrenched herself out of Babai’s grip and ran to Sakshi’s side. Bheem moved out of the way, still trying in vain to keep pressure on the wound. 

“Akka, who did this?”

“Scott,” Sakshi lied without missing a beat. “The bastard.”

Fire flashed in Malli’s eyes. “Is he dead?”

“Yeah,” Sakshi attempted to laugh and ended up coughing up blood. “He’s dead. He won’t hurt anyone again, love.” She looked at Bheem. “Bheema, take her away from here.”

“No!” Malli dug her nails into the grass as Bheem reached towards her. “Akka, I’m not leaving you!”

“Bheema, take her and go! She’s seen enough death.”

Bheem’s bloodstained hands trembled as he let go of Sakshi and picked up a thrashing and screaming Malli. He carried her a ways into the forest, behind a row of dense foliage. Ram and Sakshi listened as her cries gradually died down, responding to Bheem’s constant stream of quiet assurances. When they could hear nothing but soft sobbing, Ram knelt down next to Sakshi.

“I never got to try your chai recipe,” Sakshi whispered, half-smiling.

Ram tenderly cupped her cheek, flinching at how cold the skin already was. Blood seeped into Sakshi’s lungs, and Ram felt like he couldn’t breathe.

“Let me follow you. Let me die on your pyre. It will be justice.”

“That’s not-” Sakshi’s breath hitched. “That’s not how any of this works.”

Ram’s head dropped to her chest. “I cannot live without you, my love. I cannot.”

It wasn’t even an exaggeration, Ram thought. He could feel the life force draining from his body. He was certain that his heart would stop with Sakshi’s last breath.

“You will not be without love. You have Bheem. You have your country. Is that not enough?”

It’s not, Ram wanted to scream. It’s not, it’s not, it’s not… 

“Don’t go,” he begged instead. “Don’t leave me alone to be haunted by my actions. Who else can I turn to for forgiveness or punishment?”

“You don’t need either of those things. You have done your duty well. And I…” Sakshi tilted Ram’s head up. She waited until he met her eyes. “I am indebted to you.”

Ram looked at her in bewilderment.

“Thank you,” Sakshi said, “For not letting me die a colonizer.”

Ram wasn’t sure how long he sat there, clinging to Sakshi and struggling to breathe through incessant tears. He wasn’t even sure exactly when Sakshi’s heart stopped.

All he knew was that the edges of the sky were beginning to turn grey when Bheem came to get him. How cruel, Ram thought, that the sun would still rise. How cruel that his heart would still beat.

***

2 YEARS LATER

Ram woke up peacefully. He checked his pocket watch; the time showed 4AM.

Only in the past few months had he finally been able to sleep through the night. Only in the past few weeks had he been able to sleep alone.

He stuck his head into the next room. Bheem and Jenny were fast asleep, curled up in each other’s arms. 

Jenny had come after them in the days following their escape, warning them of a bounty that had been declared for their arrest. She’d helped them go underground for a year. Together, they had slowly gathered allies, armed villages, and resumed training.

Ram had seen to it that Malli received a comprehensive education in multiple subjects and languages. She had a real aptitude for art and literature. She could also pick any lock in seconds and reliably beat up someone twice her size, both skills that Ram was sure had been inspired by Sakshi. 

Ram returned to his room and stood, head bowed, in front of a garlanded portrait of the love of his life. 

This had been a gift from Malli - an incredibly detailed charcoal sketch of Sakshi’s face, with just a touch of color from paints that Malli had mixed herself.

The first time Ram had laid eyes on the portrait, he’d cried until he threw up. Malli, understandably, had been alarmed at his reaction, but Bheem had explained to her that such grief and love were as much a blessing as they were suffering.

“Annayya?” came a soft voice from outside his door. Bheem and Jenny entered. Bheem held out a small cup to Ram. “Chai.”

Ram smiled, accepting it gratefully. He gestured towards his cot. “Sit.”

The three of them sat in comfortable silence, sipping chai and looking at the portrait on the wall.

“Is today a difficult day?” Jenny asked. 

“I think so,” Ram acknowledged. He paused. “But we will get through it.”

Jenny leaned her head onto Ram’s shoulder. On Ram’s other side, Bheem reached for his hand.

“I said, surrender!” Ram kicked Bheem in the chest, harder than he’d meant to. Bheem, momentarily caught off guard, lost balance and fell into the fence. Ram saw the exact moment his muscles tensed, bracing for a fight.

Ram took a deep breath. Never had his duty been clearer. Never had he felt so helpless. 

***

“What’s going on?” Sakshi demanded as she ran by a guard. She’d been walking back to her room when the fire had started. Now, suddenly, the entire mansion was awake, shouts echoing from every corner. She was also pretty sure she’d heard a tiger roaring in the front yard.

“The rebel is here!” the guard said, shaking in his boots. “He’s trying to take Malli back!”

“Who’s Malli?”

“The Gond girl that mem-saab kidnapped!”

“Oh,” Sakshi said. A plan began taking form in her mind. “And Ram?”

“He is under orders from the governor to capture the rebel.”

“Good.”

Sakshi took off towards the foyer. She was maybe 50 meters from the door when it flew open, and the governor tossed a crying child inside like a sack of potatoes. Sakshi ducked behind a wall to avoid his line of sight.

If she was going to get to Malli unrecognized, she needed to cover her face. 

She looked around frantically. Rooms full of jackets and blouses, guards layered in khaki, but not one dupatta or angavastra in sight. Sakshi groaned in frustration. The British may be more “civilized,” but they had clearly overlooked the usefulness of having a multipurpose, rectangular piece of cloth on hand.

Around the corner, she could hear Malli screaming, slamming her tiny fists against the huge doors in a desperate attempt to escape.

Come on, Sakshi ordered her brain. Think. 

That’s when she saw it. See, Scott liked to demonstrate his loyalty to the throne by having a large, indoor British flag draped to a golden flagpole at either end of select hallways. Luckily, this was one such hallway. 

Sakshi sprinted to the flag. Refusing to dwell on the morality of her actions, she ripped the flag clean in two, wrapping the bottom half over her head and face. Only her eyes were left exposed. 

Feeling sufficiently anonymous, she ran back to the entrance. Thankfully, the guards had left their posts to deal with the bigger threat outside. 

“Malli!” Sakshi yelled.

The little girl froze, then looked around frantically.

“Malli! Over here!”

Malli caught sight of Sakshi, taking two steps towards her before freezing in suspicion.

“Who?” she asked in Telugu, voice trembling.

Sakshi knelt down, slowly extending a hand to Malli as if she were calming a spooked horse.

“Your Akka,” Sakshi said, switching to Telugu as well. “I’ll protect you. I’ll get you out of here. Come.”

Malli’s face crumpled in relief. She ran to Sakshi, throwing her arms around Sakshi’s neck and sobbing unrestrainedly. 

“Shh,” Sakshi soothed, scooping up the child with one hand. With the other, she used the end of her makeshift balaclava to dry Malli’s tears. “We have to be quiet, love. Don’t cry, it’s okay.”

“Akka,” Malli repeated, burying her face in Sakshi’s shoulder. “Akka, I want to go home. Please Akka, take me home!”

“That’s the plan,” Sakshi said under her breath, scanning the hallway for guards. She heard something heavy slam into the front door, followed by a terrifying roar. Malli tensed in her arms.

“Tiger,” she whispered.

Sakshi looked down at her. Of course - Malli was a child of the forest. She’d have a better instinct for sifting through the chaos outside.

“How many tigers, Malli? How many do you hear?”

Malli closed her eyes and concentrated. “Three tigers.”

Okay, Sakshi thought. Maybe we can work with-

“Four wolves,” Malli continued. “Three leopards. Bear.”

Fuck. 

“Okay, the front door is out, then. Let’s see. We could try the courtyard. The wall is relatively easy to scale. Let’s do that, okay?”

Malli stared at Sakshi, making a valorous attempt to understand what was going on. She nodded.

Sakshi swung Malli over her shoulders in a fireman’s carry and sprinted through the mansion, twisting in and out of obscure hallways to evade any remaining guards. Finally, they burst into the courtyard.

Everything was on fire. Through the haze, Sakshi caught a glimpse of Ram in his police uniform, locked in hand-to-hand combat with another man on the roof.

“There!” a guard shouted, pointing at Sakshi from across the courtyard. 

Sakshi cursed loudly in Telugu, causing Malli to giggle. It would have been adorable if Sakshi wasn’t scared out of her wits for their lives. 

She looked around. She couldn’t scale the wall where Ram was; he’d certainly try to stop them. She couldn’t very well run towards the guards. 

That left the portion of the wall directly behind her. Unfortunately, between her and said wall was a row of trees and shrubbery that was very much on fire. 

“Only way out is through,” Sakshi muttered to herself. The guard who had spotted her was quickly entering punching distance. “Malli, climb onto my back.”

The child obliged. As the guard ran towards them with his rifle aimed, Sakshi sidestepped, knocking the rifle aside with one and grabbing his throat with the other. She kicked his knees out from under him and slammed him into the ground. Malli cheered, making Sakshi laugh despite everything.

Sakshi quickly stripped the guard of his jacket and used it to wrap Malli up as best as she could.

“Keep your head down and your arms tucked, okay?”

“Okay, Akka!”

Sakshi turned and ran straight through the flames. 

When they hit the wall, Sakshi ripped the singed jacket off Malli.

“You okay?” she asked. Malli nodded. “Good, now hold on tight. I’m going to get us over this wall.”

Sakshi braced her feet against the base of the wall, digging her fingers into the gaps between the bricks. She hoisted them up, reaching out to tug at a vine. It held fast. 

“Sturdy,” she appraised, transferring her weight to the vine and using it to ascend. 

They were almost at the top when Malli cried out, her grip on Sakshi faltering.

“Malli!” Sakshi shouted. “Hold tight!”

Malli whimpered.

“Talk to me, love! What’s going on?”

“They’re throwing rocks,” Malli said tearfully, trying not to cry out as another stone hit her in the back.

“Oh, no they don’t,” Sakshi said, overcome by a blinding rage. Anyone who had a heart rotten enough to stone a child would have to get through her, first. 

She kicked off a shoe, using her toes and one hand to cling to the vine. With the other, she shifted Malli so she could hold her to her chest, sheltering her from the guards. Malli looped her arms around Sakshi’s neck and tried to hold on.

Sakshi continued climbing, grunting as a couple stones in a row caught her in the back. Just as she was able to grab the top of the wall, Malli was yanked out of her hands.

Sakshi looked up to see the governor standing above her, balancing easily on the wide ledge. He didn’t seem to realize who she was.

‘I’ll take that, thank you very much,” he said as he grabbed a flailing Malli.

Sakshi lunged after her. She wanted to shout, but couldn’t risk Scott recognizing her voice. She managed to grab onto Malli’s ankle.

“Let go,” the governor spat. Sakshi tightened her grip.

“Akka,” Malli sobbed above her, trying to claw her way out of Scott’s arms. “Akka, don’t let me go!”

Governor Scott narrowed his eyes. “Let. Go.”

He brought the heel of his boot down on Sakshi’s other hand, grinding it slowly into the ledge. Sakshi did not let go.

The skin split at her knuckles, causing blood to flow down her wrist. A steady drip, at first. Then a stream.  Malli’s eyes grew wide in horror.

Sakshi did not let go.

The governor leaned his full weight onto his heel and twisted. The crackle of many small bones snapping echoed against the brick wall. It was all Sakshi could do to bite back a scream. Tears and sweat poured down her face.

Still, she did not let go.

“Who are you?” Scott whispered, the first tendrils of fear creeping into his eyes.

“The innocent do not have just one protector,” said a voice in Hindi. Scott whirled around to find himself face-to-face with… was that Akhtar? Sakshi blinked in disbelief. What was he doing here? “You were hunting for me, but we are all her protectors. How many of us will you kill?”

As he reached for Malli, Ram materialized behind him, knocking him out with an elbow to the skull.

“Anna!” Malli cried, voice hoarse with anguish. Ram shuddered and turned away. He tried to block out everything that was happening. If he thought about it too long, he might just jump off the wall into the fire below.

“Good timing, Officer,” Scott said, safely back behind his facade of courage. He looked down at Sakshi, who got the distinct feeling she was missing something important. She tried to get her pain-addled brain to comprehend why Malli would call Akhtar “anna.”

“Now you,” Scott said, pulling out a knife from his belt. “Let go of Malli’s ankle, or I’ll cut it off.” He positioned the knife against the child’s skin. Malli’s breath hitched.

Sakshi grunted, scooting her fingers up so they were between Malli’s leg and the knife. The governor moved the knife higher, pressing it against her calf, just hard enough to draw blood. Malli sobbed.

Sakshi felt her throat close up, suffocating under the weight of a broken promise. She had to let go. She had to. For Malli.

By the time she hit the ground, consciousness was long gone.

***

Sakshi opened her eyes and realized only minutes must have passed. The first thing she saw was a guard leaning over her, reaching for the cloth covering her face.

Sakshi kicked him in the groin and rolled to her feet. As he stood doubled over, she ran straight back through the fire and out the courtyard gate. She made for the forest, knowing the guards wouldn’t follow her there. 

When she’d finally put enough distance between herself and Scott’s mansion to take a breath, she collapsed to the ground. God, her back hurt. And her hand - she had to find some gauze or she’d bleed out. But she couldn’t go back to the mansion. And no shops would be open this late. Or was it early? Sakshi peered through the canopy of leaves. The grey of the sky indicated that dawn wasn’t far off. 

In the face of zero other options, Sakshi went to Ram’s house. The light was on. Before entering, she tore the singed, tattered remains of the British flag off her face. She knew Ram hadn’t gotten a clear look at her back at the mansion; the last thing she needed was for him to connect the dots now.

In lieu of knocking, she pushed open the front door and stumbled in. Ram was huddled on his cot, sitting with his head between his knees. When he looked up, his eyes were bloodshot.

“What happened to your hand?!” he asked immediately, getting to his feet.

“What happened to your face?” Sakshi retorted. Ram turned to look at his reflection in the window, seeming to notice his black eye and bloody lip for the first time.

“Where have you been?” he asked Sakshi as he hunted around for some first aid supplies.

“How about you don’t ask me anything, and I won’t ask you.”

Ram sighed. “Fair enough. Sit.”

Sakshi sat down on Ram’s bed.

“Open fractures,” Ram said, clicking his tongue at her hand. “That’s gonna take a while to heal.”

“I got all the time in the world.”

Ram sat down next to her with gauze and a bowl of something goopy and green. “Bhee- Akhtar made this salve the other day. Good for pain and preventing infection. It’s gonna sting, though.”

“Do what you will.” Sakshi leaned back against the wall, too tired to think.

Ram spread a towel over his thigh and rested Sakshi’s hand on it. He painstakingly began to clean the wound and set the bones one by one. Sakshi set her jaw, trying not to flinch.

“Sorry, sorry,” Ram muttered continuously as he worked. “I know it hurts. I’m sorry.”

“Ram,” Sakshi gritted out.

“Hmm?”

“Shut the fuck up about being sorry. You’re doing me a favor.”

Ram chuckled sadly. “I’m sorry anyway. For hurting you, whatever the reason.”

Sakshi inhaled sharply as he pulled the gauze taut. “Are you almost done?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Ram?”

“What?”

Sakshi’s eyes were closed as she focused on breathing slowly and deliberately, trying to deal with the pain. She wasn’t even thinking as she exhaled,

“I love you.”

Ram froze. “What?”

Sakshi’s eyes flew open. Where had that come from? Ram was a mark, for God’s sake. 

“Uh- I- fuck. This is not how I imagined this would go. Can I get a do-over?” she tried. 

“Absolutely not!”

“Okay, listen-”

“Sakshi, you can’t just say things like that! We barely know each other. You don’t- I can’t- you don’t know…”

“I don’t know what, Ram?”

“Just- things. Important things.”

“Wanna tell me about them?”

Ram squeezed his eyes shut, trying to hold back tears. “I can’t. I can’t. God help me, I can’t.”

“Okay, hey, it’s okay,” Sakshi said, leaning forward to cup Ram’s face with her good hand. “Hey, look at me. I take it back, okay? We don’t have to talk about anything. No more L-word, okay?”

“Sakshi, you don’t know- You have no idea how much I want to hear that, and say that, but if you knew who I was, you’d hate me.”

Sakshi’s heart did a little flip in her chest. Ram wanted to hear that. And say that. He loved her, too.

“If you knew who I was,” Sakshi echoed, “you’d hate me.”

Ram frowned. “Nothing you do could make me hate you.”

Sakshi laughed bitterly. “I don’t know what to do, Ram. Tell me what to do.”

“What do you mean?”

“I don’t know what’s right and wrong anymore.”

Ram lowered his eyes in shame. He couldn’t possibly speak to that after tonight.

“Sakshi,” he said tentatively, after a minute.

“Hmm?”

“These mandatory public… events that Scott hosts, do you have to attend them, too?”

Sakshi thought about it. “Usually. I can avoid them if I need to, though. Why?”

“Tomorrow, there is a flogging.”

“So I’ve heard.”

“I’d rather you not be there.”

“I can promise you I’m not that faint of heart,” Sakshi teased, knowing full well that wasn’t what Ram meant.

Ram struggled to respond. Something inside Sakshi snapped.

“Where’s Akhtar, Ram?”

This time, Ram wasn’t fast enough to hide his tears. Sakshi looked away. That wasn’t the reaction of a man loyal to the British empire.

“I should go,” she said. She attempted to get to her feet and immediately fell back onto the bed in pain.

“What’s wrong?” Ram asked, alarmed.

“Ah, nothing, don’t worry. It’s just my back. I think I pulled a muscle when I- uh, I just pulled a muscle.”

“Let me see. Take your shirt off.”

“What, not even dinner, first?” Sakshi quipped, just to see the delicate blush adorn Ram’s bruised cheeks.

“You’re not going to embarrass me into letting this go,” Ram mumbled stubbornly. “Let me work the tension out of the muscle. It’ll provide some relief.”

Sakshi took off her shirt. She felt Ram go deathly still behind her.

“Ram? What happened?”

Ram stared at Sakshi’s back, covered with long, criss-crossing stripes of scarred skin.

“Rama!”

“Sakshi, what- What are these scars? Who did this?!”

Oh, yeah, Sakshi remembered. The scars.

“Sorry I didn’t warn you,” she said, turning around to face Ram. “It’s been so long, I forget I have them.”

“Who did this?” Ram repeated, looking as if he’d been slapped in the face.

“I thought we agreed we wouldn’t ask each other questions.”

“Well, forget all that! Those are lash marks, Sakshi. How the hell did you get those? I need to know.”

I need to know who to kill, Sakshi heard what Ram stopped short of saying. She smiled inwardly.

“It’s nothing, Ram. When I was a child, I wandered somewhere I was not supposed to go. I was punished for it. That’s all.”

“You’re telling me a parent did this?”

“No, no. More like a guardian, of sorts.”

“Sakshi,” Ram said slowly. “These marks are from British whips. Like how- like how the governor has in his mansion. The ones he uses to punish political prisoners.”

“Oh, I’m sure they’re fairly common.”

“They are not. They’re very distinctive. The scars they leave are very distinctive.”

“And how could you possibly know so much about what weapons the governor uses on prisoners?”

Ram and Sakshi stared at each other, a million unspoken accusations hovering in the air. A million unspoken questions. A million unspoken declarations of love.

Finally, Ram relented, returning his gaze to Sakshi’s back. “Where does it hurt? I’ll work out the knots.”

Sakshi guided his hand to her mid back. She must have hit a rock or something when she fell from the wall.

She sighed, closing her eyes as Ram massaged the muscle gently. In another life, Sakshi imagined, we’ll get married. In another life, I’ll know what I know now, and I won’t have to report it to anyone.

***

The next day, Sakshi paced the halls of the Scott’s mansion restlessly, trying to come up with a way to save Malli. She didn’t know what the governor’s plans were, but she did know that Akhtar (or whatever his real name was) would likely not survive the flogging. He didn’t seem the type to surrender.

She thought about telling Scott the truth about Ram. Ram would be killed, and her debt to the British empire would be paid once and for all. And it might just create enough of a distraction to allow her to get Malli to safety.

“Enter!” Scott’s voice rang out. Sakshi startled. She hadn’t even realized that she’d been loitering by his room.

Sakshi entered.

“What have you learned?” Scott demanded.

“Good morning to you, too,” Sakshi grumbled.

“Pardon?”

“Nevermind. I have no new updates.”

“Where were you last night?”

“With Ram. Do you really want me to get into the details?”

Scott wrinkled his nose. “What was his mood like?”

“Fine.”

“Victorious?”

“You could say that. He certainly wasn’t torn up about the fight, if that’s what you mean.”

“So you heard about the fight.”

“It was hard not to, what with the roaring wild animals and screaming guards and all.”

“The guards are a bit cowardly, aren’t they? This is why I told His Majesty, we need good English men to settle this land. How long are we going to keep using these brown scu-“

“Is there anything else, sir?”

Scott deflated a little. “I guess not. So no whisper of rebellion in Ram, then?”

“See for yourself this afternoon, sir.”

“Ah, yes, the flogging. Should be a right spectacle. Alright, you may go.”

Sakshi started to leave. She was almost out the door when Scott asked,

“What happened to your hand?”

Sakshi turned around, looking him dead in the eye. “I fell off my motorcycle. Pulled a muscle in my back, too.”

Scott tutted in sympathy. “Feel better soon, then.”

“Yes, sir.”

***

Sakshi did not attend the flogging, per se. She watched from the terrace of a nearby government building.

While Scott and Catherine taunted Ram and egged him on from their balcony seats, Sakshi observed his body language. She watched him flinch every time the whip struck Akhtar’s back. She saw the haunted look in his eyes as he realized, with every lash he delivered, that the marks wouldn’t fade for decades. She watched tears and sweat and blood, his brother’s blood, break through Ram’s carefully curated mask of cold detachment.

Akhtar began to sing, and Sakshi finally learned his name: Bheem.

“It should’ve been me,” Sakshi whispered as the crowd below erupted into a riot. In a moment of epiphany, she saw with perfect clarity what Scott had taken from her.

Bheem’s sister had been wronged, so Bheem was fighting for her. Sakshi’s mother had been wronged, so it should’ve been Sakshi who was fighting for her. Not Scott.

Yet here Sakshi was, fighting for the British crown instead, because Scott had assimilated her anger into his greed, convinced her that she would find her justice where he found wealth and power.

Her mother hadn’t needed a white man to save her from her people. All she’d needed was for her daughter to stand up for her.

As Ram collapsed to his knees beside Bheem’s unconscious body, Sakshi descended from the terrace and started her motorbike. The fury that filled her now was unlike anything she’d felt before. It didn’t burn. It didn’t fill her mind with smoke and ash.

This was clear, cold, and calm. This was patient. This was effortless, the way Death doesn’t need to exert itself because it will always win, in the end.