Page 196 of A King's Oath
He ate a few pieces of rotli na laadu that Rajmata had ordered. He did not touch the khichdi. Then she made him drink his favourite Thums Up which tasted like sweet acid. She kept making him drink glass after glass all afternoon. And he kept stumbling to the bathroom until finally, after the sun was going away from his window, he succumbed to sleep.
Sharan came to him and pushed him awake, got scolded by Rajmata and left. Papa came to check his fever. He did not have a fever. Samarth half-slept through it all. He felt Harsh by his side. Somebody asked him to wake up and drink more Thums Up. He did not wake up. His body began to chill down again. Shivers and vibrations inside his head. The bones of his shoulders were rattling again, making him feel like he would drown right there in his bed.
He hit hay and startled awake. Ava was stepping inside a stall with Cherry and closing the door.
“Don’t go in there!” He shot out. “Come out!”
“You step into stalls all the time,” she patted Cherry’s neck. He snarled. He had thrown two riders off his back just today.
“Come out right now!”
She didn’t.
Raje!
A hand landed on his forehead. A panicked voice — “Samarth? Beta, what is happening? Shhh…”
“Tell her to come out!” He whined. Ava wasn’t coming out. She was hidden behind the door’s height. He couldn’t see her. Cherry began to kick his legs.
“Rajmata, tell her to come out!”
“She’ll come out. Shhh,” she held his arm, rubbing his sore shoulder. His body was turned and he found himself on his back, his eyes open. The ceiling of his bedroom. The reflections of the swimming pool in the lawn outside dancing in the dark of his ceiling.
“Tell her to come out…” he panted, his forehead damp. His hair felt wet and itchy. But Ava was still inside.
“She will come out, Samarth, quiet, now drink this, she will come out.”
His body was hauled up to sitting and a glass came to his lips. He drank. Sweet acid. It fizzed in his mouth. Thums Up. If Ava came out after drinking this he would drink the whole goddamn bottle. He finished it and another glass was pushed up to his mouth. This time he did not even hold it as Rajmata held it for him. He drank down and a soft cloth wiped his mouth clean.
Samarth fell back on his pillow and closed his eyes. She was still in there, screaming. He couldn’t move from his place. His muscles, his bones, they were being pulled down. Will as might he couldn’t lift them. He cried out. He sobbed.
“Come out! Please come out!”
She didn’t come out. Kept screaming.
“Please,” he sobbed. His mother walked out of the stall and left the stables. He cried harder.
“Shhh!” His head rolled into a lap. The scent was familiar. The saree… soft cotton. It had wiped his mouth. Samarth reached outand wrapped his arms around her. She would go into the stall too. He held tight. She rocked back and forth, her hands patting his head — two pats followed by one, then two again, followed by one. He remembered that rhythm. He remembered that hand. He remembered those taps.
He stopped crying.
He hiccupped.
He cried again.
He hiccuped.
“Sleep, Samarth. Sleep. Nothing will happen, sleep,” those patting hands stroked his hair. He took deep breaths. His body finally felt cooler.
“Rajmata…” he croaked, fisting the cotton of her saree under his hand.
“I am right here.”
“Don’t go into the stall.”
“I won’t. Now go to sleep.”
He held her saree tighter just in case. And went to sleep.
