Prince was dumped heavily onto the scrub earth. His knees gave way, but he caught himself with his hands and he scuttled forwards out of the way. He jerked himself to his feet and twisted around, to see the elephant lower herself onto her side. The side basket crackled as her weight crushed it.
The boy clung to the low sides of the howdah. ‘Jump!’ the Prince called up to the boy and held out his arms to catch him. His charge hung back, weeping. The Oxen laughed.
The elephant began to roll onto her back. The little boy screamed and flung himself free, hurtling down onto the Prince, who fumbled him, held him, and staggered backwards, pulling the boy out of harm’s way.
The elephant, nearly on her back, kicked her legs and shook her head, trying to scrape the bolt out of her neck. She drove it deeper in. The balustrades of the howdah collapsed under her with a sudden thump.
The keepers edged forward with spears. Ducking and fearful, they tried to grab the harness around her body and shoulders. The bell around her neck clanked and clattered.
There was a gasp from the onlookers. The foolish Prince had run up her ribcage. He looked as though he was climbing rocks in the river, only these rocks shifted underfoot. The Prince grabbed the thick shaft of the spear in the elephant’s head. The old beast cawed like a giant crow and kicked and the Prince was swung out over the ground, still holding on. Then the shaft swung back. He found his footing, and hauled out the weapon. He jumped free from the beast and flung it away all in one motion.
The elephant kicked once more and then went still.
The keepers advanced on her with lances.
‘No, no, no!’ the Prince cried aloud, holding out his hands.
The dazed old elephant lifted up her head. She snorted out breath as if in relief. Very suddenly she kicked herself back onto her feet. She stood still and blinked at her keepers who warily approached.
‘The bolt just went into the flesh of her neck,’ the Prince said. As if treading across thorns, he slowly crept towards her. The old animal lowered her head and shuffled backwards. She associated him with pain. He backed off as well and instead turned to his young charge.
The little boy was standing at stiff attention. His face was dusty and tracked with tears, but he was not crying now. Poor thing, he thinks he will be punished, perhaps even sent back to his mother, who knows?
Jayarajadevi Kansri leaned forward, turning her head sideways to hear, aware that her sister Indradevi was looking at her and not at the Prince.
‘You were not strong enough to use the bow,’ said Prince Nia. ‘You will get stronger if you work. Will you work?’
‘Yes!’ said the little boy, nodding hard.
‘I will help you get strong,’ said the Prince and touched the boy’s arm. Then he saw the keepers approach again with spears.
‘No, no, no!’ he commanded them. ‘She will live. No! She can carry things!’
‘Well,’ said Jayarajadevi settling back. ‘He is certainly not one of the Oxen.’
As soon as people got wind of the potential attachment, they took sides.
Indradevi Kansru wound her way through the palace routines until she could sidle up to the Slave Prince. ‘You are a popular man, Prince.’
‘Am I?’ He had a nice open smile.
‘Oh indeed. You have found favour in the eyes of a certain lady. You are a lucky man to secure such favour. This is a high-born lady of the greatest beauty and accomplishment.’
He beamed in measured pleasure. ‘That is very pleasant to hear.’
‘May I tell the lady that?’
‘I cannot think which lady it may be, but if she is as you describe then only a fool would not be grateful.’
‘Hmmm. And I think you are not a fool. I will tell you, ah? Oh, this lady is special; she outshines all others. She is a friend of mine. No one knows her as well as I do, and she has such a good heart, such a fine mind. Oh! If only I were so adorned.’
‘What is her name?’
Indradevi finally whispered it in his ear, carefully gauging the warmth and tenderness of his smile. She was not unpleased.
But another girl came and said, ‘Oh Prince, everyone speaks well of you, everyone says you have a good heart. I have come to warn you. Oh! There is a certain person who gives herself airs and graces. She knows you have the attention of the King, and seeks to climb your virtues like a monkey climbs a vine. She has a bad reputation that one, for a cool head and a cold heart.’ Then, in a whisper, ‘Some say it is the King’s bed not yours she seeks.’
Nia’s loyal friends, who like him were good on the field and well behaved in the royal house, clustered around him. ‘Oh! Lucky man, the Lady Jayarajadevi is so beautiful. When are you going to have the courage to present yourself? Oh, you must be quick, such a prize as that will not go unclaimed for long.’
The Oxen caught him off guard as he washed. He was nearly naked and defenceless. Yashovarman looked scornfully down at his less bullish body. ‘You are a small slip of a thing to think that you can claim the attention of high ladies. You should know, before you get into trouble. The Lady Jayarajadevi is spoken for. She is a king’s wife, not for semi-peasant like you.’
‘Prince Nia!’ one of the Oxen laughed. ‘What title will he take, do you think. Niavarman, Slave Shield?’
They all laughed. Prince Nia stayed calm. ‘Until she marries, no one is spoken for. And I think she speaks for herself.’
‘You cannot speak for her, that is certain.’
‘Neither can you. You should know, before you get me angry, that she calls you an Ox. You are unsubtle and don’t know that women do not measure a man’s worth by the thickness of his thighs.’
‘No, but the world gives to the man who takes, and to take one must be strong.’
‘And smart. And fearless. And not easily led. Oxen are strong and bear the world’s burdens, not its prizes. Unless you want a fight now, Ox, I will finish washing myself. You should try washing some time.’
Nia had just enough love of war. The strong ox Yashovarman hesitated, and in hesitation made his ground unsteady. ‘I have warned you!’ he said, but retreated.
To his friends, the Prince sighed in disgust as they played checkers. ‘Oh! I wish everyone would cease this matchmaking. You would think the marriage had been announced.’
The friends chuckled. ‘We will not let you escape. The Lady Jayarajadevi is perfect for you. Not just her beauty. It is a matter of her character.’ And they laughed at themselves, for they were imitating old village women.
‘Uh!’ groaned the young prince. ‘Just leave it, please!’
One night the Prince woke up in his hammock, to see Divakarapandita leaning over him.
