He ignored me and reached for his sword, but in a swift step I kicked it out of the way.
“Shatrugna, look at me. Shatrugna!” I shouted, and at last his eyes locked with mine. I found the blue cord tying him to Rama and tried desperately to loosen it, but it was like chipping away at rock with my bare hands. “This is your uncle. Think about what you’re doing.” I held his gaze, trying to convince him. He seemed to relax back slightly just as the tent flap opened.
“Shatrugna, have you persuaded him? We need to—no!” Bharata shouted.
Time seemed to slow. I had looked toward Bharata when he entered. And when I turned back, the hilt of a dagger protruded from Yudhajit’s chest.
Bharata, without even acknowledging me, leapt forward to push Shatrugna off Yudhajit. I dropped to my knees beside my brother as he coughed once, twice, his hands pressed around the dagger as his life seeped away.
“You’re going to be fine,” I whispered, and he gave me a smile. I put my hands over his own, applying pressure, knowing that if I pulled the dagger out, he would bleed faster.
It did not matter. He was going to die.
“You really came for me,” he said, his smile never slipping. Beside us, someone was whimpering in pain, but I did not look over.
“Of course. I never—I didn’t—” Time was not on my side. “I’m so sorry.”
“Come here,” Yudhajit gasped. I bent my face down to him, and he kissed my cheek. I pressed my forehead to his, counting his breaths. One, two, three—
And then, like that, he was gone. I sat bent over him, unable to move. I could barely breathe, even though the smoke was less dense down by my brother’s body. His body.
A hand touched my shoulder. I grabbed the hand and twisted, pulling the person down as I rose, prepared to strike them. Then the haze around my vision cleared. “Bharata?” I whispered.
“He’s dead?” Tears had already left streak marks on Bharata’s face. How long had it been? I turned back toward Yudhajit and saw Shatrugna’s crumpled form next to him. He appeared unconscious, a bruise already forming on his temple.
I lent a bloody hand to Bharata and pulled him up. He shuddered, a low keening emerging from his mouth, and without thought I closed my arms around him and held him tight. I knew he probably still hated me, and that he was under Rama’s thrall, but he was my son, my beloved son, and I could not help but comfort him.
I wondered blankly why he seemed more grief-stricken than I did, but could not summon any further emotion. I was holding my son, and he was letting me, and my mind was too exhausted to feel anything more.
After a few moments, I realized Bharata was speaking. “I’m sorry,” he whispered over and over again. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” He coughed, and I felt a sympathetic stinging in my throat. No. The tent was filling with smoke. Suddenly Bharata was pulling away from me. “We have to go,” he said. “Come on, Ma.”
The name, Ma, startled me out of my daze. You are no mother of mine, he had said, and now—
“We have to move!” Bharata shouted, and I looked down at my bloody, empty hands. Bharata grabbed Shatrugna’s arms and began dragging him toward the back of the tent. “Shatrugna was supposed to come and take Raja Yudhajit away. He promised not to harm him. He promised. I never thought—never—how could he. I didn’t want this.”
I tried to pull Yudhajit’s body with me, but my hands were slippery, and he was heavy. “Help me,” I said.
“Ma, we have to move quickly,” Bharata said. His voice sounded thick once more, but whether it was the smoke or emotion I could not tell. “The gods will understand. They have to.”
For a brief moment, I contemplated telling him to drop Shatrugna and take Yudhajit, before I snapped to my senses. My son had done a horrible thing, maybe an unforgivable thing, but he was still alive. I brushed my hands over Yudhajit’s eyes, closing them, pressed a kiss to his brow, and then followed my son out of the tent.
The air was thick with smoke and screams, but Bharata seemed to know the way. He heaved Shatrugna onto his back with a strength I did not know he possessed, and cut through the tents, glancing back every few seconds to make sure I was following him.
Yudhajit’s camp was encircled by fire as far as I could see, except for a narrow opening by the forest. Only when we approached the gap did a row of men materialize. Kosalan soldiers. It chilled me how well my sons had engineered this massacre.
And how well it had worked. We passed through the Kosalan line, and it finally hit me. My knees gave out as Bharata passed Shatrugna on to a healer’s care.