Our Castle Has A Dragon

I

When she was five years old, the king told the princess that their castle was actually a five thousand years old living animal.

"Is that why the walls are so hard and colourless," she interrupted her father, "there is grass growing in every crevice and the air is so perpetually damp? There are snakes too, father. I saw one yesterday. Mother shooed it away."

Her father nodded. 

The princess didn't see her father often. The castle had a separate tower for the ladies. Ladies, especially the younger ones whom her mother and grandmother coldly called fairies, almost with indignation, were not allowed out of the tower without permission. Her father would visit her regularly and when she saw him, he always wore a smile which made her feel happy and safe. Warmth. Yes, that was warmth. The room would be cool but she would feel warmth in her chest. 

Today, her father had a peculiar seriousness in him that almost verged on sadness. She was sitting in his lap, looking at her father's strong face, chiseled at spectacular angles into that of a trained warrior. A long time ago, her father had long hair. Now, his hairline was curving inwards and much of what remained was small and wrinkly. Her father was turning old. The castle may as well have been a strong man like her father in his youth, she thought.

"When is his birthday, father?" she asked.

"You see, princess, many a kings and queens have passed, and many a dynasties perished since he was born. Everyone has forgotten about his birth and parentage."

The princess gasped. "He must be lonely if everyone has forgotten him. We should talk to him. Can we talk to him, father? Does he understand our language?"

The king walked to the window and signalled for his daughter to follow. The damp air brushed against their faces, soft but material like feathers falling from the sky. He raised his arm and pointed at the tower opposite to the princess's, across the common ground.

"Do you see that tower, princess? What is it called?"

"The Guardian. Am I right, father?"

The king smiled. 

The princess realized at once that it was the first time he had smiled since entering the room. He looks less like a duty-bound warrior when he smiles, she thought, and more like a father. He should do that more often.

"You know everything, don't you?" the king said, the moribund smile already disappearing from his face.

"I do, father," his daughter replied positively, "I am your princess. Mother tells me of princesses who have ruled the world. One cannot rule the world without knowing about it."

"Do you know why it is called the Guardian?"

She shook her head. A visible shame appeared on her face as she spoke. She lowered her eyes.

"Do you know who is the pride of my kingdom?"

"Yes. The women are the pride of the Earth."

"The Fathers had known the significance of women in the kingdom, princess, and they had said that the women must be safe."

The princess had a straight, focussed face now. Her eyebrows crooked inwards. Her eyes were fixated at the Guardian.

"The Guardian is not the tower but what lives in it. Do you want to know what lives in there?"

"Yes, father. Tell me."

"In there is the beating heart of the castle."

"I don't understand, father."

"The castle is a dragon, my dear princess. As he aged, his spiny skin turned into the stone of the walls. Now, he lives in his own tower. We never go into the tower. He likes his solace."

The princess had covered her mouth with both her hands. 

"I always wondered how candles can produce all that light in the tower. Its turrets glow like all the stars of the sky burn within the tower."

"You have the cunning of a princess, my dear."

"Tell me, father, can we talk to him?"

"I fear you cannot talk to him, my fairy, but he sure can. Remember that he is called the Guardian because he guards us. He speaks to us all the time. He tells us when the evil is around us, so that we may shelter ourselves in his castle, which he guards from all the Devil's devices."

"How does he talk to us, father?"

"Do you remember the thumping in your chest when you saw the snake yesterday?"

Her father had placed a poking finger on the middle of her chest. She could feel the shove against her body. Something crawled like a cold breeze against all her skin.

She nodded.

"Do you know what lies in our chests?"

"The heart, father. The heart beats and it sends the blood rushing everywhere in the body."

"Do you know why it beats so fast sometimes?"

She did not. Girls were not taught in her kingdom. All that she knew was either from the stories the ladies told her at night or from overhearing others' conversations.

"It is the dragon. The dragon lives in the ladies' heart, my dear, to take care of them. Whenever a lady is near something evil, her heart pounds and she knows that she must go back to the castle. If she does not do this, the dragon becomes angry. We never talk about the dragon's wrath, my princess."

"I understand, father. I promise that I will never anger the dragon."

The king smiled. He told her that she was a good girl and will become a beautiful queen some day. The princess was happy.

For some reason, her mother never told her stories of valiant princesses again, even after repeated prayers.

II

Father's visits became rare as she grew older. She could also notice other changes in her life.

She rarely left the castle. Getting permission to go out was already difficult. They used to go out to play with the boys in the playgrounds years ago. Now, they remained within the darkness of the castle. Whenever she would near the gate or try to cross the threshold, her heart would pound vigorously and she would retrace her steps. 

She was called a fairy more often now. 

"Go to your chamber, fairy." 

"Count the stars, fairy. That's what we all do when we are bored. Give them names too."

"You are called in the kitchen, fairy."

She was called to the kitchen more often. In the past, she used to work with the ladies of the kitchen whenever she wanted. It was never obligatory. It was no longer a choice, even though it was never said explicitly. It had never been so repulsive. 

She had always told herself that she was special. Her parents had made her believe this. Now, she was increasingly becoming like the other fairies. She would more often find herself in the same bath as other fairies. She would be told to sleep in the chamber of other fairies for no reason. 

Even the thought of raising her voice against the changes in her life made her heart go berserk. The dragon seemed to raise his head and glare at her, sparks of golden-red flames emerging from his puffing nostrils. For some reason, she knew that the dragon had a violet skin with spines of at least two palms' length, jutting into his dark, barren dungeons. He also had sparkling yellow eyes and a wingspan of the entire castle. The castle was, after all, made of him. She could feel his presence everywhere — in the walls that were once made of the dragon, in the heat of the bathwater, in the wind that once blew so violently around the towers of the castle.

III

There were rumours of a war coming. 

Her father's visits to her chamber had ceased. She had never found a friend in her mother or her grandmother. They were among those cold women who did not like the fairies. Other fairies seemed to conspire against her. They were always talking and smiling and laughing, especially when she was not paying attention. They would stop like a statue the moment she would turn her gaze towards them.

I should not forget I am the princess, she would repeatedly tell herself. They are jealous. I should be happy that they are jealous.

It was then that she started singing. Her mother had sang her a few lullabies when she was young. Oh, how I would want to be young again! She was fifteen now, youngest of the fairies, and she had forgotten most of the words in the lullabies. The tunes remained within her and she murmured them out loud. La la la. The damp, molded walls of the castle would reverberate with her. The stairs would shake sometimes. The wind blowing through the corridors would shriek and hiss along with her rhythm.

One day, she realized that it wasn't just that her throat produced the prettiest voices but also that her feet tapped against the floor in the fashion of the melodies. She stood on the tips of her toe and swirled around, her heavy purple dress making the rounds with her, blossoming like a flower in the sunshine. In the corridors, she would dance like a frog, jumping from stone to stone on her toe tips. In her chamber, her hands would sync with her feet and her waist wave majestically. She would twist and twirl around a thousand times, curving her arms over her head, as perfect as a dancing top until, all of a sudden, she would notice the mayhem in her chest. 

Her feet would become stagnant but the castle would flow around her in all directions, like a boat moored to the dock on a bustling sea. She would look up at the Guardian's tower. She could always feel his stare.

He is everywhere. To take care of me.

"If you are to take care of me, to keep me safe, why am I afraid of you?" she asked one day, looking at the tower from her window.

Then she began dancing and singing. Her hands met harmoniously. Here was a clap and there a jerk. Her legs curved in strange fashions and her waist gyrated like whirlpools. After a few moments, she became too insecure and pulled the hides on the window. She danced again.

IV

Later that day, as all the fairies sat with the older ladies for dinner, the queen noticed a trickle of dry blood on her daughter's left leg. For some time, she pondered upon her food. After the supper, she took the princess to her chamber. Once within the confines of the walls, she questioned the princess if she had done anything bad recently. The princess could only bow her head with humongous shame.

"Whatever you did, little girl, be assured that the dragon has seen it. The things that you don't do daily, the new things — I have seen you behaving awry in the corridors — these things pollute you."

The princess had spent all her courage confronting the dragon and his wrath. She could not meet her mother's eyes. During the silence between her mother's squalid sentences, she realized that she had always known that it was wrong, the things she had been doing. The lullabies are meant to make a child sleep, not to be wasted at the unworthy air. Legs and hands are meant to be straight, the former resting against the trunk and the latter against the earth. This is common knowledge! 

Somewhere in his huge tower, the Guardian must have a list of crimes she had committed. The list will be full some day. He will have to come out of his rest that day and punish me.

At the door, a lady arrived with a bucket of warm water and a rag. Her mother asked her to sit on a couch comfortably. She asked her to spread her legs open and showed her the blood. She then wiped it with the warm rag.

"The dragon has given you a curse for being an insolent girl. You will have pain and blood every month now. The air outside has poisoned you."

Her heart was pumping again. She could hear every distinct beat. Had there been any doubt within her regarding the dragon's abilities, it had disappeared now. The dragon was omnipotent, she realized, and must be feared.

"I didn't mean to be disrespectful at all, mother," she presented her case finally, as tears threatened to fall down her cheeks. The gleam of the tower crept from the windows and reflected in her pearl-like eyes. "I don't even know what I was doing."

"Your heart was pounding anyway, wasn't it? Still, you continued doing it." 

The princess lowered her head again.

"For the next five days, you are not welcome outside this chamber," her mother said.

The princess's heart skipped a beat. She felt as if her entire body had become empty from within, a deep gorge in which she herself was afraid of falling.

"But I can't control my heart, mother. Why should I be punished?"

"Control your legs and your hands and your eyes if you can't control your heart, young lady. The dragon has cursed you and I don't want it to affect other fairies. Every month for the rest of your life, whenever you see this blood, you will remain secluded. If you wish good for yourself, don't tell any of the fairies about this curse. "

The princess could hardly fathom what her mother had said.

"Have a good night's sleep, lady. You will take all your meals here tomorrow. Keep this cloth nearby. I don't want any stains on the furniture or on you."

V

Seven days had passed. The princess had already forgotten what it felt like to be easy. She had been in pain for all the days. At times, when the pain became unbearable, she knocked at her room's door and shouted her mother's name. There was never any reply but she was sure that she heard suppressed voices very nearby. 

She knew it was all because of the dragon's curse. She now quantified each and every move her body made. She thought over and over ten times before uttering a word. The most difficult was to control her eyes and thoughts, the beings that ran amok anywhere they liked. She questioned her desires of looking out of the window. She was being her worst critic. She censured all of her actions. 

Sleeping had become difficult. Even dreams terrorized her.

If only I had been a boy, she told herself one morning, peeping down from her window, it would have been so much better.

Father was off to a vassal, preparing for the war. War, she remembered, where people cut each other's throats with shiny metals. War is for glory. War is for honour. 

Who is the pride of my kingdom? her father had asked her. The women. I.

"What is pride?" followed logically. War seemed superior to the boredom and care of the castle. Winning wars should make one proud. Why are women the pride of my father's kingdom?

She envied even the sheep grazing in the lofty fields amid the mist. If only the dragon sleeps for some time, she imagined, I will go out and play with the sheep. I will be one with them. I will take some wool from the store and cover myself with it, and the dragon will never be able to find me. 

"I don't want his care," she said out loud without realizing.

Below her was the world of men. Men ruled over it and they made it sure that only they did. Women were meant for the towers. Women would create their games and play among themselves. Daily, they would prepare the food and clean the rubbish.

She hissed at the men like a snake.

I hate you, she thought. She could not speak the same even when she wanted to. 

The Guardian's tower stood almighty above all of them. Its stone was made from a dragon's hide. The dragon's fire had hardened it for hundreds of centuries. The dragon protected the men and the women. The dragon was powerful. The dragon's word was the law. Her father was the upholder of the law.

The men had swords in the sheaths hanging by their waist. They shouted to each other with all their strength. The ladies behind her door always spoke in muffled voices. She once thought that they spoke softly because they were whispering about her. Now she knew it was only natural and expected of women. The Guardian roared. It always roared within her heart. 

VI

From the thick stone gate of the castle, a meandering road cut through the lush grass. It lazed its way into the stretching fields like sunlight on the sea. At some distance, a few horses had materialized on the road. At first, their number was ambiguous. The white one was definitely her father's. The others were black. As they drew closer, she realized that there were three more. More nearly, there was the sound of the portcullis being drawn up.

When her father reached the castle, the princess was called down to the banquet hall. The men were seated on the seats meant for the special guests. Even though she was not a regular visitor to the court, she knew that the red velvet seats were for the special people. She had once requested her father to let her sit on one of those and he had denied the plea immediately.

"You have no business being there, darling," he had said. "You have your own seats filled with cushions. Aren't they comfortable enough?"

Her father had never condemned her. He had always loved her. Warmth. Today, when she entered the banquet hall, it was full of strange people. Everything had been subsumed by a disturbing din. Even her father's smile could not inspire any warmth within her. Her eyebrows were stretched and her forehead crisscrossed by tense creases. Her heart had begun to pound.

The men were not like those she had ever seen. She noticed that one of them had a darker shade of skin than the normal people. His brawny body must be taller than father, she theorised. He may even be stronger than him. The idea immediately set free waves of terror within her. The pounding within her fastened. 

Drums were being played somewhere. She had seen the drums and how they were crafted. Huge baobabs were pulled down and their trunks emptied. The nectar was sucked out of them. Camel hide was stretched across their circumference. She had seen the camel being butchered. How cheerful the drums looked now! The powdered wood was used to colour yellow. The leaves were grinded to form green. The blood from the skinned camels was used to dye the hides red. 

Blood, she remembered and another flush of flame ran through her. She wanted to look down and check herself. She had not been in front of so many people in almost a decade. Even then, she had been far too young to notice anything. Today, her legs trembled. Her fingers had lost the touch. There was no feeling of atmosphere around her cheeks. Everything burned. The drums resonated. Her father talked to the visitors. The strange man looked into her eyes.

Her heart stopped momentarily. For some reason, she did not break the contact of their eyes at that moment. Hours later, when the moon would shine on her face as she would lie in her bed, she would realize how wrong this was. The dragon was always looking. The castle was the dragon. The stone was the dragon. She would regret looking into a man's eye. Nobody had told her it was wrong to look into a man's eyes but she knew that it was. The feeling stemmed from deep within her. The feelings that stem from deep within you are nothing but the truth. She would have difficulty sleeping that night.

In the hall, the men finished their lunch as the princess was sat on a sofa with a velvet cover. Within the velvet was wool from the local sheep. Their kingdom was poor. Exotic luxuries were rare. But they were a proud people. His father would not hear a word against his kingdom. He stood up and cheered the assembly with exquisite words.

"I welcome you to the Hall, the most noble of my people. I know the air is saturated with all sorts of things about our future — the future of this great land and her great men. We have had disadvantages at the war but, remain assured, the war we waged shall be ended only by us at our own terms to our very own benefit.

"However, our present occupation is not about the perils of warfare but about a celebration. We have the honour of hosting a great king of a great dynasty.

"My lordship!"

The strange man rose from his seat, raised his hands and came forward to hug the princess's father. The king was gladdened. He caressed the strange man gently and patted his back.

"We shall fight together," the strange man said in his even stranger, thin voice and pulled his sword out of its sheath. So did the other king. The two kings poked their blades into the gentle air as if it were the ubiquitous enemy's belly.  

Within a second, the princess's perception of the man changed. He seemed less strange now. He would fight the war with my father, she thought. He can't be an enemy. Much of her father's words sounded questionable to her. She knew nothing of the war but she knew how her father spoke. He had the same nervousness in him today as the night he told her about the Guardian. She knew it had something to do with the war. She knew it had something to do with the pride. All throughout the lonely hours in her chamber, she had been thinking. She had thought a lot. She had learned a lot. 

The man was smiling. She smiled. The crowd broke into cheers.

"My men, we have another reason to cheer. Festivities are soon to be upon us. What can be a better way to nurture friendship than by turning your friend into family? I announce the marriage of my friend with the most precious of my family, my daughter..."

The crowd applauded again. The princess's face turned pale. She looked around the hall at the crowd. The faces were lit with the enthusiasm of wine. Their eyes sparkled. The man was looking at her hungrily. Her father, however, seemed to look past her. 

She made a step forward but was immediately pulled back by a hand. It was her mother.

"What do you want to do, young woman?" she said with visible alienation in her face. "Stand here with the other fairies."

The other fairies stood in a queue at the back of the chamber. Her mother pushed her towards them. A rosy fairy dressed in a gown as blue as the deepest of the seas, walked past her towards the two kings. The king was as glad as ever. The man was smiling.

"I ask for your hand, the most beautiful princess Tanana," the strange man said and raised his hand towards the new lady. 

Tanana placed her hand, soft by the very sight like petals of an early flower, in the man's hand. The drums still played somewhere, the air jerking with each one of their coarse beats. Swords were back in their shelters. The two hands were high in the sky now, the new inspiration for gala voices. 

The little woman stood against the wall. At that moment, she disappeared for everyone in the hall. She no longer existed, just like the other fairies. Her insignificance was complete. The girls, with varied expressions of joy on their faces, did what their mothers did, who the little princess now realized were all queens to the great king. When the queens clapped, the fairies did too. She understood the rivalry now. 

She looked at her father but refused to accept him as her own. She heard her heart again. For the last time, she tried to identify her mother in the humongous crowd. Suddenly, her legs started moving and before she could realize that she was running, she was out of the hall.

VII

Something moved in her chamber. There was a sound. The princess opened her eyes immediately.

"Mother?" she said out loud, reflexively, without any consideration. "Is that you?"

There was no reply.

"Father?"

She never slept in absolute darkness. Tonight, sleep was difficult and she had extinguished all the flames. The night was dark but it was summer. The heat was not a necessity.

When there was no reply, she could do nothing but regret all the decisions she had made in her life. She called out for her parents again. There was no movement. There was no sound. For nights, she had had no dream. This might have been the night she was waiting for. A dream finally, she thought. Only that the sound was too unrealistic to be a dream. Dreams are the best. The most real things in life.

She pulled out of her bed and started walking towards the candelabra. The instrument always had candles jutting out of it. It had a room for fifteen and together, they could lighten every corner and crevice of the room. On the moonlit nights, its silver sang with the moonlight. Tonight, it was difficult to spot.

She tried to hear. The capital was surrounded by vast fields on all sides and the fields themselves merged into the lofty hills. There were noisy rivers and forests. Many times, she had heard the wolf howling and bats screeching. Tonight was no different. The river, although miles away from her, diffused her wails in all directions. In the darkness, the water seemed to flow right beside the castle.

It was when her hand finally landed on something that the wolf howled. It was flesh. She opened her mouth before she could withdraw her hand. A strong hand covered her mouth before she could shout.

"It's me, princess," the man said. "Only me, your father's friend."

It was the man.

Her heart started racing. It is wrong but I haven't done this. Please don't punish me. The man loosened his grip. The little girl gasped for air and headed for the door. The man caught her hand again. The girl shouted this time. There were sounds of birds fluttering outside the window but there was none behind the door.

"What do you want?"

"Why did you leave the hall?"

She could hear the drums again. Huge hollow tree trunks. Rotten skin of dead camels. Heavy mallets. She could see herself running out of the hall.

"I ran away because you are evil. The Guardian asked me to run away. He will burn you alive if you try to harm me."

There was a moment of silence. The princess wished that the man became scared and left. She also wished that the dragon understood that she had no role in this evil.

"Go away and take your evil away with you," she said, her voice fluttering as if a burning iron nail was etching against her skin. "Girls should not talk to men."

"Who is the Guardian you are talking about? Your father? He never told you to go away. I am his friend. I am your friend too, princess. I was concerned about you. So, I climbed up the castle and entered through the window."

Against the dim light of the sky, she saw the man's hand pointing at the window.

"Believe me. I mean no harm."

"The Guardian will burn you anyway," the girl said. "Laws are laws. Or he will burn me."

"Who are you talking about?" said the man, his voice even more thin with amazement. He never sounded as strong as he physically appeared to be.

The girl snatched her hand away as she felt the man's hand lose its hold. She did not try to escape this time. She had decided to face the man. The dragon, she knew, was with her. Outside the window, the Guardian's tower emitted beams of light in all directions.

"Do you see that tower of lights? Our dragon sleeps in there. This castle was made by him with his flesh. He lives in these walls and keeps his vigil over the poor women. He will burn you and then feed your cooked flesh to the jackals of the forest and the fish of the river. Go away!"

The man was quiet again.

"Who told you all this?" he said after a few moments.

The door opened with a thud.

"Goodness! Where are the lights? Are you alright, princess?"

The princess rushed towards her mother and embraced her. The brightness from the corridor crept lazily into her empty chamber.

"What sort of dream was it, little princess?" asked her mother, as she proceeded to light the candles. "Why did you blow the candles out?"

"There was a bad gust of wind outside, mother, as bad as my dream. Please let me sleep with you tonight."

That night, the princess slept in the queens' chamber after a long time, huddled against her mother's belly, as if remembering the days when she was one with her. That night, she knew that her mother cared only about her and that she was the king and her mother was her subject. Both of them loved each other. For one night, life seemed worthier than a dream.

VIII

The princess was retired to her chamber early in the morning. The queens had to instruct the maids with their work. More regiments had been brought into the capital. She had seen the other king's army entering the capital gates. Preparations were on for the marriage. Preparations were on for the war. In her chamber, the princess slept peacefully until a gentle voice, that of her father, the king, woke her up.

The man was with him.

"You have seen our new friend here, little princess," her father said, a controlled smile on his face. "You must know that I am going to fight a war soon. He is going to fight with us for our pride and honour."

He is an evil man, she thought. Don't believe in him. Please.

"We have to check the castle defences," her father explained, as the young lady sat in her bed, eyeing the man. She still had difficulty believing that the man had been in her chamber the past night. She did not want to believe in that either.

"It is a beautiful view from your window, princess," said the man. "Look at the sheep on the hills! So peaceful."

Waiting for the war, the princess thought. Evil man.

"In our lands," he continued, "we don't have these lush fields, you know. The terrain is all rugged and stony. The far you fetch your eye, the more rocks you gain. You can walk here carefree, like a sparrow flying through the clouds. Back in the plateaus, you'd better watch your steps. A toe kept an inch too left or too right, the next moment you lie on the ground a hundred feets below. Man it botches your head!"

The princess listened to the man's watery voice carefully.

"Here, you can dance in the fields without giving a damn about anything. The ground is all soggy and mush. There, we pain our legs, hitting against the hardest granite in the entire world."

Despondent, gloomy man. A wretched man full of national heresy.

"You are always welcome here," said the king.

The two men were looking at the condition of the castle walls. 

"These are some old stones!" exclaimed the man. "They say in my land that the masons drenched these stones in the strongest of the wines from Acaba. That's what gives these ancient things muscle."

The princess looked at the wall near her. Tiny cracks formed patterns like a plant's roots in the stones and disappeared into its material. The fillings had now become one with the stones. She tried to find the signs of the dragon. In the cracks, she could roughly construct an eye and a thorny tail. She touched the stones to derive some sensation of the dragon's presence. What must dragonhide be like? The stone was hard. And warm. Does the dragon blow fire in these walls?

"That's false," she said without giving much heft to her thoughts. "This castle is made of the dragon that lives there," and she stretched out a finger in the tower's direction.

The king appeared moved but said nothing.

"Ow! Your pet dragon, little princess?" the man said.

Yes, the princess thought, and it will burn you alive. 

"The turret will bear the onslaught," the man announced. The king affirmed. "The bartizans are all that demand reinforcement."

The men turned on their heels and moved towards the gate.

"In our land," the man stopped suddenly, "little princess, ladies don't have dragons. They just trod around on the plateaux."

Do the dragons trod around in his land? The ladies, she thought after the two had closed the door behind them, definitely can't.

IX

The floor of the castle had become the training grounds for the knights. They clashed like enemies in battlefields. Up from her window, she saw the learners cruising their mock-swords in the air and the skilled swordsmen tutoring them. All were clad in black armour, irrespective of their skills. Black as tar, as if burnt in the sunlight forever.

There had never been a war in her consciousness. Her mother once used to tell her stories of female warriors. Once upon a time, she too wished of holding a sword. 

She looked at the tower. When her gaze returned to the battlefield, a set of eyes were staring at her. 

"What's a king among the soldiers?" she whispered.

As her heart started to gain momentum, she returned from her window. No one visited her that night. Even though she was scared and her eyes repeatedly scanned the moonlit window, she did manage to gain a handsome sleep.

Maybe it was a nightmare after all, she told herself.

X

"The marriage would be held on the fourth day," her father announced to a host of blissful cheers. All the queens and the fairies had been invited to the banquet hall for the supper. The king sat on the high chair and the man sat to his side.

The boys were there too, their brothers, she realized. She had never interacted with any of her brothers but her mother had talked about them. She had spoken of their long marches in the moors and their errands through the long woods. Totuk was her brother but she did not know which one among them was him. Totuk, she had been told, had long arms and slender fingers with which he had mastered the art of dagger-fight. He had first tried bow-and-arrow but failed. The princess had felt pity. She had never failed, she realized, at anything.

All of them had come together after a very long time, the princess thought. There was a time when she, her father and her mother used to sit at the long dining table, which had a place for fifty-two, and chatted while eating their food. She never noticed when those sessions ended. It was a slow decadence. Father skipped a few meals and the mother-daughter duo encamped themselves in her chamber for meals. She had even made some wry comments in her mind then — what a waste of time it is! We should have our lunches here in my chamber. I will call my father too. Her father never ate in her chamber. All his meals were luncheons to be held in the custody of public eyes. The chamber walls were too restricting for him. She missed those lunches now.

"Why are the boys treated differently, mother?" she whispered in the ears of the queen who sat cheerfully beside her.

"Boys are strong, my dear. They become warriors when they grow up. They take care of the kingdom and ensure our safety."

"The Guardian already does that, mother."

Her mother sushed her. "Eat your food, lady," she said.

The king had risen in his chair. He was speaking.

"Before the war reaches our plains, the two kingdoms shall have cemented their relation."

"Long live the two kings! Long live the two kingdoms!"

The marriage, she remembered, and looked at the man. He wore an incredulous garment which exhibited his entire arms and much of his chest. The muscles in his forearms, she saw, flexed and bulged as he ate his food. She tried to feel her own muscles and lamented how thin and weak they were. First failure. But nothing unmendable.

"How can I become a warrior, mother?"

She was stifled again.

She pondered more over the man's form. His neck had surreptitious knobs of muscles that appeared and disappeared as he chewed and swallowed his food. There were also a thousand bruises and scars on his neck and arms and abdomen, as she would notice two days later.

XI

"Can I marry the other king, mother, in place of princess Tanana?" she asked her mother with no hint of repentance. Repentance, if there was any, it was for misunderstanding the man, she explained to her mother. "I think the Guardian erred in inferring him, mother. My heart beat like some mad drums that day I saw him in the hall but he is a good man. He is father's friend and wants to fight for the kingdom. What can be wrong with such a man?"

"I understand you, my lady," her mother smiled at her and said, "and I will talk to your father, the great king, about the matter."

"Please do, mother. I want to marry him."

"I will make sure you do, my precious princess." 

It was a drop of water that fell on her face and interrupted her sleep. She rubbed off the drowsiness from her eyes and looked around her room. The candles burned peacefully on the candelabra. The man stood right beside it. 

Her heart raced at the intrusion and she hastened to react to the strangeness of all this. She tried to reconcile the reality with her dream. Is he here to marry me? Am I already married to him? Her head worked at its absolute zenith at that moment of awakening, at that moment of introspection. She was struck by the repugnance of the thought. She identified the immaturity in her mind. She tried to combat her own psyche, the basis of which, the inherent brazenness of which she had never been introduced to earlier. She asked herself if she admired the young man and if she did, what was the rationality behind the affection? There were no answers. She did not know where the intoxication arose. She could not find the seeds of astrayment. 

Amid all this, much to her amazement, her heart sank back into concord. She was bewildered at the absurdness of all this. The obnoxious man stood in front of her, he had instead come nearer, verily into illumination — his muscles were sweaty and somehow even thicker, he reeked obnoxiously, his hair was crude, his face was square and his eyes deep — but he stood in a place he was not allowed in, breaking all laws and methods of the kingdom and the land. His disregard for the dragon was open. He openly invited anarchy. Yet, the Guardian seemed to have accepted his presence when his very being seemed to be the antithesis to the dragon's own.

"Come with me, princess," the man whispered. His face was extremely near to hers. She realized that she was trembling. "Have you seen the waters of the river?"

"When I was young," she said. The dragon will burn you alive. She realized that she was trembling. Was it fear? What was it? She tried to remain the holder of her senses but it was proving difficult. She had always been unyielding. She did not even mean to reply but she already had spoken. Second failure.

"Come with me, princess. I will take you to the river and bring you back before the sun rises, and no one will know anything."

"The dragon…"

"There is no dragon," the man said. "There never was any on this land."

The girls danced on his lands, then, the princess thought, not the dragons. It was so absurd. It was so incredible. How can girls be allowed out with freedom? Who will take care of them? What about the pride of the people, of the kingdom? The man was lying, and she knew it very well.

"Our castle has a dragon," she proclaimed, "and it will burn you alive."

She spoke and she knew that the doubt spoke with her. The dragon was quiet. She was alone in the fight now, weak and timid, but certainly steadfast. The dragon will burn you alive, she had said, but will he?

"It is a lie, princess, that has been told to all the girls here. Believe in me. I know I am a stranger and an alien to the imagination of your people. But know that I have seen all the seas and from corner to corner, there are no dragons on this land of ours. Dragons don't populate the human world. They have never been here."

Anger was building within the princess and for the first time in her life, she felt the need to vent the heat within her head.

"I will tell my father of your violations, of your blasphemy," she hissed. "No mortal soul on this land can accuse the king of falsehood. You are a traitor to his people, to my people. I order you to go away at once and await your fate in the morning."

The man groaned.

"You talk of that tower, young lady," he said, moving towards the window, stretching his hand out, pointing at the bright tower. She could see the silhouette of his long hair reveling in the breeze. "I went into that tower yesternight, my lady, and there was nothing. It is as empty as the sky above, except for a thousand candelabras with a million burning candles, twinkling like the stars therein. It is a waste of resource except that it guides the travellers in the moors and the hills to your kingdom. This is what it is for."

"Mother!" she shouted, disparaged.

The man sighed and jumped out of the window. The princess's heart raced. She was on the second level of the ladies' tower. Without means, it was a fall to death from the window. She jumped to her feet and ran to the window. She gasped as she found the man on the ground, walking towards the Guardian's tower. He looked up and spotted her. She looked at him with bewilderment. The man pushed the small door to the tower open.

The door behind her opened and her mother came rushing in.

"Goodness! What is it, my lady?"

The lady called her mother to the window and pointed at the Guardian's tower. The two ladies stood at the window, reflecting at what was happening in the secluded tower. There were crashes and thuds. Flames arose in the window suddenly. Her mother rushed out of her chamber, calling for the maids to wake up. The fire raged in front of the princess. The wooden canopy of the tower subsided and flames mounted the tower. Smoke and fiery tongues peeped out like ghosts from all its windows. The illumination multiplied an umpteen times. In the moonlit sky of the deep night, the tower burned like a flambeau. 

Before there could be a din in the castle, the man emerged from the door and walked away.

XII

A curfew was announced for the ladies the next morning.

"All the fairies are to strictly remain in their chambers. The Guardian is enraged. One of you must have done something bad, really bad." All the fairies lowered their heads till their chins touched their breast. The little princess looked up — straight into her mother's eyes, insolent, irreverent. "There was a huge fire yesterday. Some of you must have seen it from your windows. Twenty-three men burnt to their death and three women. Had it not been controlled, the king says, half the capital would have perished. You, little ladies, must also watch your actions more often. It is important. You are the pride of our land and our people."

The princess closed her eyes at the pronouncement of the dead. She could feel their pain within her. She could hear their wails. Yet, she did not consider outing the perpetrator even for a moment. She knew the man had something to do with the fire but he could be the culprit only if his version of the tower were true. How else could he enter the tower, incite the dragon to start a huge fire and then, venture out unharmed? She could not consider proving him true. There was a dragon. There undoubtedly was one. How could so many people lie together? How could her father, the great king who had never pronounced a false fact from his tongue, produce such an evil lie? There was a dragon. She had felt the stones of the castle. She had seen the dragon's eyes and spiny tail. She had seen the absolute brightness of the tower that could not be achieved in any human way. There was a dragon. And he would burn the man alive. Or she will.

The princess turned sixteen that day and no one realized this except her.

XIII

The princess turned sixteen that day and no one realized this except her. Thus, when the sun went into its hiding place and the moon emerged from its own, she extinguished the candles and waited in a sofa, in the darkness, safely away from all the harrowing moonlight. 

Why did she wait? She did not know and she did not bother answering the question. This was innovative. This was daring. Boys become warriors. I am a warrior. I am a girl.

Someone placed a hand on her shoulder. She started and looked back. The man stood behind her.

"When did you come here?" she asked.

"Never bother," said the man.

"What are you? A wizard? What trick is this? How did you jump off from here —" she pointed at the window, all unsettled and wanting — "and survived?"

"Never bother," said the man.

"You killed so many people. What do you want to prove?"

"Come out with me. Feel the free air."

"You killed my people."

"I proved a thing by doing that."

"If you are a wizard, you may as well know how to fight a dragon. It does not prove anything. You are a mystery. The dragon is a truth."

The man, who lurked in shadows so long, came out of his den. He stroked a candle and touched its wick. Flames arose out of nowhere, yellow, bright and gloomy.

The princess gasped.

"What is it to you how I did it? Does it matter? The fact remains that I did it."

"Your machinations are evil."

The man was more mysterious than ever. He came forward to stand at the window. The tower stood dark and desolate. 

"Out there also, there are girls who have been caged like you and your mothers and sisters. They have their own lies to entrap them and very much like you, they believe in their falsedoms wholeheartedly. If you try to open their eyes, they retort and protest and screech."

He turned to face her.

"It will have to begin at some place, princess. There will have to be a girl who tries to not believe. She will then discover the truth — be it their own version or some other truth. At least the truth will be out."

The princess tried to find the man's eyes on his shadowy face.

"You said you let your girls roam about in your place. Why do you do that? Are you not concerned about their safety? Are you not concerned about your pride."

"Come with me, princess," the man said. "Come with me to our camp and I will give you all the answers."

The princess took a step back. She had never left her chamber after sunset lest during a curfew. The man's words, however, roamed freely inside her head. Those were menacing words. They attacked a status quo she had come to love and harmoniously live in.

She finally took hold of the man's hand the same way her elder sister had done. She was unsure of the means but resolute in finding the truth. The man opened the door to her chamber noiselessly and led her outside. The corridor was illuminated by huge oil lamps hanging from the roof. The incense of burning oil filled the air. The soles of their footwear tapped the hard floor like the hoofs of running horses. As she looked around her, even the inanimate seemed to be suspicious of her. She imagined what explanation she would present if her father caught her out of her chamber, in the middle of the night, during a curfew, amid a state of war, with a foreign king, who had been betrothed to her sister.

She imagined what her father would say if she posed her own questions to him. The stakes were too high on both sides of the battle. It was a strange battle, she realized, and she was posed to lose in every scenario. What would it avail her if the man proved her father wrong? She could think of no reason why he would create such a kingdom of falsities. What was the result of all of it, after all? She had been kept within the bounds of the castle. She had always suppressed her spirits. She had always been jealous of everyone else. On the other hand, if the man was proven wrong, she will be back to the gloomy normal. She feared the normal. She had dared to imagine. She had dared, although within herself, to question the arrangements of the world.

I will give myself to the dragon then, she thought. There will be no hiding from life. There will be no fear. There will be no bounds. I will go into the tower and offer myself to the Guardian, for I would have failed him.

They descended the stairs and walked towards the gate of the tower.

"Wait here," the man said, and the princess stood in a dark corner of the corridor. A few soldiers had been posted at the gate. 

The man dispersed all of them and disappeared himself. She waited in the cold corner, clueless, sitting alone in the ridiculous world. There were sounds of soldiers shouting and commanding in the ground outside. Tears oozed into her eyes and she wiped them off immediately. She had to be strong. The pursuit of truth is no easy task. I am a warrior.

The man reappeared after a treacherously long time, all through which she had been losing hope. He signalled for her to come to the gate. She ran to him. On the gate stood a troop of soldiers, standing in a square formation. The lady knew what to do. She entered the square and stood in the centre of the formation. The metal-clad men placed their shields on their heads and immediately, the princess was hidden from the world. The troop started marching and she started walking with them.

Was she their captive? she asked herself. She could feel the power within herself, that she was able enough to break through the formation at a time of her choosing. Yet, she felt numbed enough to not betray a sigh from her mouth. She did not know where the troop was headed but they did not keep her waiting for long. As the march ended, the man appeared behind her and gave her a cloak. Within the formation, she put the cloak on and covered her face. The troops dispersed and the two were left standing in front of a huge camp.

As they entered the camp, the beat of the drums began. The entire camp seemed to shudder with the monumental sounds. The man asked her to come with him. The king's seat lay empty and grand at the opposite of the entrance. Another, slightly smaller, seat was placed next to the king's. The two took their seats. The beating of the drums increased. From an unknown direction, there was another sound — an alien musical instrument. Some instruments jingled while the others vibrated. Somewhere, men gaped their mouths and created inimical sounds. Somewhere, women gaped their mouths and produced inimical sounds. A man appeared in the centre of the tent and a woman appeared in the centre of the tent. The ground was covered with yellow earth which seemed porous and soft from her distance.

The man held the woman's hand and pulled her towards him. Then he held her hand over her head and the woman rotated on her heel. She had done this. She had circled round the room. The woman set out from the man's grip and danced around the camp's circumference. The drums played a strange tune. The men and the women played with their voices. The jingles mingled with the music. The man performed strange movements. She had skipped on her feet. She had curved her hands and aligned her feet. She had danced as if she had walked on the water. The man pulled the woman up and projected her into the air. The woman made decorative shapes with her hands.

The man brought the woman down and with a single movement, removed the cloth from over the woman's breast. The drums intensified. The humans produced undulating voices. The woman made new moves, the man made new moves. In another movement, the man tore his own garments and danced naked. The two moved like animals, wildly and without much ado. The man snatched the remaining clothes from the woman's body. The two danced.

Her heart was racing. The drums had made it difficult to identify it but now she knew it. She had never seen a man naked. She observed the differences in the man's body. She observed the parts she had never seen on herself. Her heart was thumping like the drums.

"I want to go back," she said to the man. The man raised a hand and the music stopped. The dancers froze in their places. Surreptitiously, the camp was emptied until only the two of them remained.

"What did you see, princess?" asked the man, almost satirically. "Had you ever seen a man naked?"

The princess shook her head. The dragon will burn you alive.

"There is no shame in living."

The dragon will burn you alive.

"Don't be afraid, young girl," the naked woman said from a distance. "Who is she, my lord?"

"A princess," her lord replied.

"Your fear is rational, princess," the woman came beside her, "but that doesn't mean it should not be fought."

"Who are you?" the princess asked with abomination. She could not dare to look at the woman because of her indecency, her nakedness.

"I am a woman," she replied. "Who are you?"

"He told you who I am."

"She is a prostitute," said the man.

The princess gasped and moved away from the lady.

"I guess you have heard naughty things, then, my lady. Who told you about that? Not your mother, definitely."

She knew about penises and vaginas. She knew how babies were formed. She knew who a prostitute was. She had heard the other fairies talk about it. The talk had been intense since the marriage had been announced.

"Stay away from me," the princess warned, "and don't you dare talk to me again."

"Why are you afraid of me, princess? I don't have any weapons. I have nothing to hide. See." And the naked lady turned around as if dancing. The man held her from behind and kissed on her forehead.

The rubicon had been crossed for the princess. She leapt away and ran towards the gateway.

"I am a woman from your land only, princess," the lady said from behind her. "That's why, I am as invisible as you. That does not mean I don't exist!"

"Get her safely to her chamber," the man shouted. 

The troop reassembled in front of the princess.

XIV

The prostitute was a heinous lady. Her image seemed to have burnt into the back of her eyes. How happy she seemed, the lady thought.

The dragon will burn you alive as well.

XV

The man came to her chamber again the next night. She came out with the man again the next night. The man took her to his camps. The drums played again and the same presentation was repeated.

"What do you think, my lady, now that you have returned?" the prostitute asked her. "Do you still abhor me? Am I not a dancer good enough?"

"Weren't you taught shame?" 

The naked woman laughed.

"Of course, I was, my lady," she said. "But then I was taken from my house and thrown into this place by your father."

"SHUT YOUR DIRTY MOUTH!" shouted the princess.

"It was a war, my lady," the naked lady replied with little care for the princess's temper. "We lost the war and here I am. A war is coming for you too—"

"Shut your mouth," the man said.

"— and you should learn something from me."

The man hit the woman. She fell on the ground. Her face bled.

XVI

The sky was starry. There was much din around a camp. The princess sneaked a look through the cloth. The insides were full of naked men and women indulged in sexual activity.

"Who are these?"

"The women are slaves. The men are soldiers."

They moved further. They were on an errand tonight. As the capital was left behind, several men lay on the field, huddled together, sleeping beside each other like corpses. Some of them, the princess observed, were children half her size.

She turned a questioning look at the man.

"These are the sons of prostitution. The daughters are in the camp, of course. Some men are also there."

The man laughed.

"Did you decide why you hate the prostitutes and their families?"

They walked in silence, the air between them and around them thick with dancing snow. Huge fires were burnt in the city for warmth. It was summer, and a good one at it. 

It shouldn't be snowing, she thought. 

They walked out of the city gates. She was safe and camouflaged within her cloak. The sounds of the river became heavier. She could picture the waters hurrying through rocks and stones.

"They are shameless creatures," she said the obvious after much thought.

"Of what utility is shame if it bounds you?"

"There are laws and morality."

"Of what utility are laws and morality if they bound you?"

They reached the river. It was as beautiful as she had thought. The breeze was even cooler against her skin. 

The man held her hand and kissed her lips. She responded with equal intent. He removed his garments and those of the princess. He was gentle. She was smooth. He caressed her flesh. She marvelled on his strength. She saw him closely. There were scratches on his face and on his chest and on his arms. He was a warrior.

"Take me back," she said, "and don't ever come to me again."

The man cast a questioning look at her.

"You are to marry my sister tomorrow. This is wrong."

"Nothing is wrong if it pleasures you."

"No. Nothing is wrong if it pleasures you. Because you are a man. Every man thinks that."

The man lowered his sight. After a moment, he began collecting his clothes and those of the princess.

XVII

The wedding festivities were on their climax. The princess was wearing the cloak. She moved like a shadow along the castle's walls towards the Guardian's tower. This was in the broad daylight. The tower still reeked of fire and burnt wood. She opened the door and entered the coffin-like darkness. In the light of her candle, everything was burnt and black.

She ascended the stairs. Higher and higher she went until she reached the platform. There used to be another floor and a canopy above it. Now, everything was burnt. There was nothing in the tower. Not even the list of her crimes.

XVIII

Her father was in his chamber. She knocked on his door and he welcomed her.

"What is it, little princess?" he questioned.

"Why don't you let the dragon fight the war?" she replied.

The king looked at her suspiciously.

"How will you? There isn't one."

The king was silent.

"I went into the tower."

The king walked to the door and fastened the latch.

"What did you see?"

"There was nothing."

"Give me your hand, princess," he said caringly.

The princess handed her hand to the king. The king closed his grip around her soft hand. The princess's heart pounded. 

"There is a dragon, my princess, and it lives within me. I am the dragon."

He pulled the princess's hand and placed it on a table. The bagpiper played outside in the hall, where everyone enjoyed the marriage festivities.

"What is our pride, princess?"

The princess didn't answer.

"Father!" she said as the king's grip turned painful.

"I can be fierce, my lady," the king said. He withdrew a dagger from his armour and struck it into the wood. He juggled with the princess's palm and singled out her little finger.

"Father!" 

Another flash of the dagger and a smothering pain ripped through her hand and radiated all through her body. Her finger lay separated from her hand. She shouted. There were knocks on the door. Her mother called out.

"What is pride, my lady? It is what the people believe in. It is what the powerful believe in. Don't speak to me about this again. Don't speak to anyone about this again. Think of a story about how you lost your finger for everyone who will ask, but never forget the blood and the pain and the reality. Go to your room, now."

The princess left the room. She was one with the prostitute — a victim of power. The marriage took place cheerfully and by the sunset, the soldiers prepared for the war. A carriage took the new queen away to her new home. Her father left for the war with the man. The tower started producing light soon after. No one ever knew what happened.

*