Bharata returned to the palace alone.
Kaushalya came to find me soon after, her elegant features twisted in confusion. “Bharata said that he arrived in their camp in the middle of the night and found Lakshmana standing awake by the horses. He spoke with Lakshmana for an hour, he claims, and in the end, his brother convinced him that his first act as raja could not be to undo his father’s last.”
“Smart boy,” I said, and Kaushalya ignored me.
“Lakshmana said it was shameful for Bharata to be there, and that Rama would feel the same way if he knew about this midnight conversation. He said that Rama wanted to honor his father’s wishes and would gladly spend his years in the forest to do so. He said that Rama would be angry to learn that Bharata had visited at all. Bharata did not want to offend Rama, so he asked for Rama’s chapals.”
“His chapals?” I repeated, confused.
She sighed. “I do not understand either. Lakshmana slipped Rama’s sandals off his sleeping form and gave them to Bharata. Bharata departed immediately and brought the shoes here, to Ayodhya. And he says his coronation will be tomorrow, with no fanfare. He has told me he feels this is a tragedy, not a celebration.”
The next morning, I armored myself in my finest sari, a blue and gold heavy silk embroidered so finely that it shimmered like water, and made my way to court. I ignored the whispers of the nobles around me as I made my way across the hall, focused only on my son.
Bharata sat on the ground near the throne, cross-legged. The low pressure of murmurs built, no longer just about me. Has he gone mad? I am sure they wondered. The tension swelled, filling the entire chamber, until Bharata rose to his feet.
“People of Ayodhya,” he proclaimed, his voice stronger than I’d ever heard it, ringing out across the room. “We have lost in a short time our great raja and our beloved yuvraja. I mourn them just as you do. My father and my brother were meant to rule this kingdom, and they were torn from us. I am not worthy of taking this throne in their stead. So, while Rama is in exile, I will not.”
He lifted his hands, and I realized he held a pair of shoes. “These are my brother’s chapals. They will remain on the throne for these ten years, to remind us that he will return to his rightful place in time. I will spend these years in penance, praying and atoning for the sins of the woman who bore me.”
No, I thought. No, this cannot be happening. The heat rose in my cheeks as all eyes turned to me. I wanted to cry, to scream, to run up to Bharata and shake him, but instead I stood paralyzed, stomach churning. Bharata’s gaze found me, and he walked toward me with slow, deliberate steps. Sumitra and Kaushalya each took a rustling step back, so that he and I faced each other alone on the dais.
“Hear me now,” he said, as though sentencing a common criminal. “I curse you for your sins.”
Curse me? My own son? “Bharata, please.” My voice shook despite my best efforts. “I have tried to tell you, you know not what you are doing. You would risk the whole kingdom for this?” I took a step toward him, but Shatrugna was there, blocking my path, forcing me away from my other son, my blood.
“I heard everything you told me,” Bharata said, and at this, the last shred of hope I carried in my heart vanished. If he had truly listened, then he knew what his actions would unleash. And to look at him, he did not care. “You have been a plague on this kingdom, an awful, godsforsaken woman. But it shall stop with you. You, Kaikeyi of Kekaya, will be the last of your name.” Each word rang as he spoke it, and I felt the sentence come down with finality. It would have hurt to hear anybody say such a thing, but coming from my own son, I knew it in my very bones: I was cursed.
How appropriate, that I should be the first of my name and the last. How fitting, that now, at last, I knew what that threat meant.
CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT
I CALCULATED THE TIME out. Ten days for the news to reach my brother. Another two weeks for him to gather his forces, provided he was already making preparations for war, and then two weeks for him to move his army to Kosala’s border. They would plunge straight into our lands rather than deigning to meet at an appointed place, for that was not the Kekayan way. He would slash and burn his way toward our capital, hoping that such devastation would force us to accede to his demands.
In the face of Bharata’s abdication of responsibility and Shatrugna’s apathy about ruling, Kaushalya had stepped up to make important decisions for the kingdom.
Sumitra sat by Kaushalya’s side, assisting her in managing the responsibilities of both radnyi and regent, and so in many ways the Women’s Council had become the court itself. My life’s work had come to better fruition than I could have ever expected. But all I could think about was that I had no part in it. The entire city hated me. Besides, what did my counsel matter? I had pushed two of my sons into exile, one into penance, and the one remaining would not acknowledge me. I had broken my husband and hastened his death. I had brought war upon the two kingdoms I loved most.