The Churning ( Part 3 )

Vajradandaka grumbled a lot, but he quickly finished his food, commenting in the end. "It's so bad…"

The attendant grimaced lightly. "Your Majesty, we cannot prepare the foods you like because the barbarians might recognise our cuisine. We will risk giving away your disguise."

"What about the cuisine of the Maruts?" he asked curiously. "Do they also eat such tasteless food?"

He didn't seem to care at all that the Little Lord of the Maruts was sitting right in front of him. But the attendant was still mindful. "The Maruts have exquisite food of their own, my king. But your tongue is not used to it, so you might find it bad. Your servant will endeavor to do better next time."

Vajra thought for a few moments. "Grandfather said, among the seventeen warrior tribes, there is a tribe called Chara which is known for its flavorful roast meat. Apparently, they mix seventeen different spices in their roast meat, and it is a taste you cannot forget. Find the tribe leader for me and find out if he can cook for me."

The attendant naturally wanted to refuse, because that would draw attention. But before he could form his thoughts, a certain person who had been salivating from all this talk of roast meat, burst out in a string of curses. "Bastard, have you any mind that I'm drinking my food! I am drinking it! There is no taste to my food. No good taste. No bad taste. There's no taste at all! And here you are talking about roast meat with seventeen different spices. Are you even my friend?!"

Vajra considered it for a moment in silence. He turned to his attendant. "There should be a small clan that also sometimes provides warriors for the seventeen tribes called the Marchaba. Grandfather told me they barbeque the desert buck by stuffing all kinds of condiments into its stomach. I wanted to try that as well…"

"Your Majesty," the attendant smiled, "I know those people! I will immediately go find them for you."

Vajra smiled beatifically. "Splendid. And while you're at it, get some more rice paste for the Little Lord. Mix it with those bitter leaves that are good for digestion. What are they called again?"

The attendant tried to hide his smile, while trying not to look at the small general in front who was about to explode. Back when the child was just a little prince, he was already teasing his sisters in all possible ways. Now that he is king, his level had upgraded.

"Neem, Your Majesty. But of course, my King. The Little Lord of the Maruts has internal injuries. We must be mindful of his digestion."

Kush threw the empty tumbler at Vajra. The two boys horsed around throwing sand on each other's faces while the attendants quickly cleaned up and left.

Despite his state, Kush actually got Vajra in a chokehold under his armpit. Vajra as well, didn't resist too much lest he upset Kush's injuries. "Let me go! Oh-huh, I can't breathe, let me go!"

"I won't let you go! No way!"

"Ahhh…. Let me go!" Vajra found it naturally hard to breathe. At the same time, he was in a position where wherever he pushed, he would be hurting Kush. So he couldn't even move.

"Bastard. Apologize."

"A king doesn't apologize."

Kush choked him even hard. "So what happens if the enemy gives him the choice to either apologize or die?"

"The king apologizes, of course. But his apology takes a different form than words."

"You mean gifts…Interesting."

"Say it. What do you want!" Vajra wriggled restlessly, his face turning red like a tomato.

"Well. Promise me that you're going to eat the same breakfast, lunch and dinner as me for as long as you stay here!"

"No way! Yuck!" Vajra almost vomited. He looked really troubled as he begged his friend. "Come on…You know I ate that sick food for five months straight. I will die if I eat one more morsel of it."

That part was true. Vajra might not have had broken bones like Kush, but he had many untreated internal injuries that made it quite hard for him to recover.

"You won't die."

Vajra looked like he was about to cry. "I don't want to."

Kush was nearly taken aback by that look on his face. But then he remembered who exactly he was. "Don't pretend!"

Vajra burst out laughing.

Eventually, Kush had to let him go after seeing all kinds of faces he was making. He even pretended to choke and die, but he never agreed to eat the same food as him. After he felt entertained enough, Kush simply let him go. Naturally, he also understood that while his chokehold was strong, there were ways to get out of it. Only, Vajra didn't use any of those because that would upset Kush's injuries. He decided to get his revenge when they were both healthy and whole.

The two boys rested for a while having finished their lunch, after which Vajra once again put Kush on his back and tied a ribbon around his waist, so he wouldn't slip.

He stood up and looked west. The sun was still two poles above the western horizon, so he slowly treaded in the direction they were going before. The dunes repeated endlessly as far as the eye could see. Vajra was constantly fascinated by their patterns.

"You see that small dune over there in the north, right beside those series of big ones? Yesterday, it was thrice its size. I reckon it would disappear tomorrow as the wind blows. On the other hand, the elevation to the south keeps on increasing all season. As we go southward, the dunes become higher and higher. But that's just until winter sets. The winds turn south west after that."

Kush felt his head becoming heavy. "Why are you telling me this?"

"Isn't it interesting? The way the dunes undulate, like waves…The pattern is similar to the ocean waves, only on a slower scale."

"I don't see anything similar to the ocean here…Well, I heard there is sand on the ocean too. Discounting that…"

"Alright. Neither of us have seen the ocean." Vajradandaka smiled quietly to himself. "Lets both not make assumptions. Let's get back to the topic at hand. As I was saying…"

"Wait wait wait. You've been the one leading the discussion so far. So help me clear some of my doubts first before we go further."

"Alright, go ahead." Vajra walked in a steady pace, neither faltering nor slipping as he traversed the top of the dunes in a practiced fashion. It was unknown when he actually travelled so far that he displayed such familiarity with the desert. For a distant viewer, he appeared part of a minimalist's drawing, perhaps his own grandfather's. His purposeful and unfaltering gait could be captured using just a few lines. The steadiness in him was uncharacteristic of a child his age.

Kush fell into a lull as the slow rhythm moving up and down as Vajra walked soothed his senses. He was silent for a long while, before he unknowingly gave way to his thoughts. "It's so difficult…To take this barbarian army and reach the Abhaya kingdom itself will make me lose more than half of them. I reckon I'm not wrong?"