Tales from the Ramayana
© Copyright DIANA HUNTER, 2011.
All Rights Reserved, Ellora's Cave Publishing, Inc
Sita turned on her heel and nearly stomped out of the palace. Fine, she'd go into the garden
and maybe her father would come to his senses. She couldn't just marry anyone, didn't he see that?
She needed someone...special. Someone she could give her heart to. Someone she could devote her entire being to.
Her maid started to follow and Sita commanded her to stay. The gardens were empty, she didn't need a chaperone. Marble steps led from the palace to a grassy lawn. Sita walked demurely down the stairs, counting them to keep her pace sedate. But the unshed tears blinded her and when she reached the grass, she broke into a run, wanting to put the palace as far from her as she could.
Her target was a small glade in the corner of the walled compound that surrounded the palace. An Asoka tree spread its loving branches above to create a haven of peaceful shade, and small flowers bloomed in the grass beneath. A marble bench sat by the tree and Sita collapsed on it, giving in to the tears she'd held back so long.
"My lady, why do you cry?"
Sita looked up in panic, grabbing her veil to shield her face. Before she could speak, the boy who peeked around the bole of the tree stepped forward, dropping to one knee several arm lengths away from her.
"Please, my lady, tell me what it is that upsets you so. Let me help you."
Her panic faded at the earnest look on the boy's face. His feet were dusty, his clothes, although of good fabric, were not clean. He'd traveled far...probably with one of the many princes who had come to try their hand at the contest. Sita shook her head.
"You shouldn't be here...alone with me."
"I fight for women's honor. I do not dishonor them." The boy drew himself upright and a shaft of light lit his face...such a handsome face. So honest, so true. No guile shone in his eyes, no deceit quavered in his voice. She smiled and let the veil drift from her fingers.
"Oh, my lady...The boy dropped his gaze. You smile and my heart cannot bear such beauty."
She couldn't help the laugh that bubbled up. "You flatter me, boy?"
He looked up at her, an answering grin on his face and Sita's heart began to pound. What strange feeling was this that suddenly filled her?
"It is not flattery to speak the truth, my lady." He leaned forward, although he did not move from his spot by the tree. "Tell me, why is it you cried? What can I do to help?"
Sita shook her head and sighed. "There is nothing you can do. Nothing anyone can do."
"Tell me anyway?"
"It's my father. He's being...stubborn."
The boy nodded his head. "I know a bit about stubborn fathers myself."
"Not like mine. I want to marry for love, but he's proposed this stupid contest. And whoever wins, gets me as the prize!" She knew bitterness colored her voice and that she should be grateful for having a father who cared so dearly for her, but she just couldn't help it. There was no one in the palace she could talk to like this...and this boy's eyes just seemed so...wonderful...
"A contest, my lady? Tell me what it is, and I will win that contest!"
Sorrow filled her. Slowly she turned from him. "No, boy, I'm afraid you won't. The god Shiva gave my father his bow for safekeeping many years ago. The bow is huge, and none can move or string it." In frustration, she turned back to him, only to discover he'd now knelt at the end of the bench. But far from feeling threatened, she felt oddly comforted by his presence. "Any man who can lift it from the table and string it, wins my hand in marriage."
She looked down at her hands, which she now realized she'd been twisting together. With an effort, she put them onto her lap, forcing herself to a calmness she didn't truly feel.
"When does this contest begin, my lady?"
Music suddenly flared from the direction of the palace. Sita leapt up in alarm. "Now. The contest begins now."
He stood and Sita realized he was taller than she, by several inches. He made no move toward her, but simply stood, an island of calm self-assurance. And in that moment, Sita realized she'd found the person she could give her heart to.
"Sita! Where are you? You're wanted in the palace!"
The voice of her maid interrupted them. She turned to the boy in urgency. "You must go! You can't be found here with me unchaperoned. My father will have you killed."
"I will leave you, my lady. But this is only temporary. Before the sun sets, I will win your hand in marriage."
"Yes, yes...go!"
He bowed and slipped behind the tree moments before her maid entered the secluded garden.
"There you are! You're wanted in the palace. Your father's ready to begin."
"Yes, of course...I'm on my way..." Sita desperately wanted to look in the direction the boy had disappeared, but schooled her face in quiet acceptance of her lot. Halfway back to the palace, she suddenly paused. She'd never even asked his name!
"Anything wrong, princess?"
Sita shook her head at her maid. "No...nothing. Let us join my father now."
