#aboardaship

A conversation between Dharmawati and a new character…

The decks below the Chola Kadhal were cold and unwelcoming, doing no favors to Puteri to help shield her from the sharp, and devastating words Rajendra left in Sanskrit of her Goddess of Knowledge, ringing in the guttural darkness of her prison chambers. Every exhale felt like a poke to her lungs, her optimism retreating to be stored somewhere deep inside her, in hopes of being used for another day. Weak and frail, she proceeded to lie back down on the rotten floorboards, fluttering her reddened eyes shut, when an unexpected creak sounded from the entrance to her lock-up below deck… She braced herself, thinking it would be the Chola menace or another crude soldier, but these footsteps.. They were soft, gentle even. Maybe her prayers to Saraswati were answered, and a Svargaduta was here to rescue her and her father..

But as the figure approached her tattered Srivijayan silk rags close and closer, she could see that it was just an ordinary man, wearing the common uniform of a Chola soldier. Looking at him through the flickering light of the candle he held, Puteri could tell he wasn’t here to torment her conditions as a prisoner. Nay—for this soldier’s expression softened at the outline of his eyes. He looked towards her with renowned pity, and with a gaze that spoke of nobility and virtue. In his other hand was a clay bowl with clean water, and he set it down gently beside Puteri’s laying body, being careful not to startle her already affected state. Without even a rustle of his warrior’s dhoti, he knelt down to Puteri’s level with those kind eyes, and spoke in a soft and serene voice, a gentle Sanskrit.

"Puteri Dharmawati, please, drink this clean water I was able to scavenge from above deck. A lotus of Srivijaya deserves to be treated as she should; the leader of the two seas."

He smiles kindly at Puteri, and lifts the bowl toward her, gently insisting that she drinks it. Although she had a great ache at the side of her back that persisted after her failed escape attempt from the Kadaram palace, she mustered the last of her strength, which was amplified by this man’s seemingly random act of kindness, to sit up and accept the offering, savouring the taste of water that finally didn’t taste like metal. After a few lengthened sips, she spoke to him in a hoarse, tired voice, finally being able to speak the Language of the Chakaravatins in a way that wasn’t biting or defensive.

"More of the Tiger army should be as righteous and moral as you.. I-... I haven’t experienced this much kindness in days..-"

Puteri looked up to him with unshed tears of gratitude, her body becoming less tense and seeming to relax in what felt like centuries aboard the ship as a captive. She mutters a silent thank you while smiling softly at the soldier, in princess style, and he bows back, his face blushing slightly and his smile becoming more awkwardly, but cutely crooked.

"You must not thank me, Puteri Dharmawati. You deserve more than just a clean drink.. You deserve to be bound out of those horrid chains, and have your kingdom back.."

The soldier looks back at Puteri with eyes full of shared sorrow and empathy. She laughs bittersweetly at his comment, and sighs, sitting into the wall of the tattered underbelly where the Saraswati Vandana she carved stands etched into walls, an extension of her mentality. She looks up to him with pained eyes.

"You are far too kind, dear soldier… yet, the way you carry yourself tells me there is much more to you than meets the eye. Please, tell me your name, it’s the least I can do to repay your gratitude once I am set free.."

Puteri smiles back at him, a genuine one. He bows his head down, but still keeps those kind eyes and smiles in her direction.

"My name is Maran, Puteri Dharmawati. I come from the Pandya country, and I wish for knowledge and Saraswati’s guidance in the world as much as you do."

Puteri smirks softly, and narrows her eyes to the shiny piece of silver chain that hangs around his collar.

"Oh, I already knew that from the twin Meen that hangs so meagrely from your neck, son of the soils of river Vaigai… Does the tiger know that such fish swim amongst his trusted men?"

She answers in perfect Tamil, the secret language of her late mother, and it’s the first time she uses it aboard. Puteri playfully places a finger on her chin in a pondering gesture while looking straight into the Pandyan soldier’s eyes, who now stare at her in awe after her secret revelation of his mother tongue.