“It isn’t safe,” Opal avows. “When Hastin discovered Brother Shaan escaped Vanhi, he rounded up the brethren for questioning.”
“The wind told us of their fate.” Rohan’s grimace reminds me that Galers hear secrets on the wind that no other bhutas or mortals can. “Anjali tortured them to find out the prince’s whereabouts. The brethren wouldn’t tell, so Hastin ordered his daughter to winnow them.”
“Buzzards,” Brac says. At my confused glance, he explains. “A Galer can use their powers to siphon the air from their victim’s lungs. They call it winnowing.”
“Only amoral Galers use that technique,” Opal says in aversion. “None of the brethren knew where the prince was hiding, only Brother Shaan.”
My mouth turns dry. Mathura takes up her handheld hookah pipe to cope with the accounts of torture. I am close to asking for a puff of the mind-easing smoke myself.
“And the imperial guard?” Deven asks tightly. He has been reluctant to speak about the palace guards, but the rumor the woman told us of their being executed must be wearing on him.
“Hastin stoned the guards and beheaded the higher-ranking officers,” Rohan replies.
Deven pales. He and Yatin would have faced the same fate had they not fled with me. My worry for the ranis and courtesans Hastin is holding captive surges.
“What are the prince’s orders?” I ask.
Rohan trains his gaze on me. “He requests that you join him in Iresh as a guest at the sultan’s Beryl Palace.”
Iresh is the imperial city of the sultanate of Janardan, ruled by Sultan Kuval, whom Rajah Tarek was rumored to despise. During Tarek’s early days of attacks on bhutas, the sultan welcomed refugees into Iresh. Tarek had planned to go after the bhutas who slipped through his grasp after he eradicated those within his borders.
Deven stabs the tip of his sword into the ground and leans against the hilt. “Why does the prince need Kali?”
“Prince Ashwin went to the sultan to seek military aid,” Opal says, “but the prince is an untried ruler. The kindred’s reputation is known far and wide, and the refugee camps are filling. The prince needs her to gain the favor of his people. They need a ruler they know and trust.”
“I’m no more experienced a leader than Prince Ashwin,” I say, drawing back.
“You won your rank tournament and earned their devotion,” Opal replies, her gaze insistent. “The prince believes your endorsement will reassure the refugees and have the added benefit of convincing the sultan to provide troops to unseat Hastin from Vanhi.”
I begrudge Opal’s reasoning but understand why Tarachandians view the prince as a stranger. He has been in hiding all his life. I suppose I can comfort the people until he earns their loyalty.
And then I will walk away from my throne for good.
“I need to speak to my friends alone,” I say, rising.
Opal and Rohan start to leave, but Rohan pauses. “Do you have anything to eat?” he asks. Mathura hands him a bag of dried dates. Rohan licks his lips at the larger supply sack she took the fruit from. “Are those cashews?”