Chapter 142

Chapter 221: Hard Returns

Keeping up with his habitual schedule, Kushi was certain Lord Arnav would not return to the cottage until it was time for dinner. She even worried if on his return he would take the path to the Castle instead of for the village.

But when Garima openly opined this very same worry, Kushi refuted by saying that though he was not a man of ritual, he was a man of his word and assuredly would abstain from the Castle for the entire week. As long as nothing happened to irk him, of course.

Faint sounds of thunder rolling could be heard even though it was only an hour past noon.

"There is going to be heavy rains tonight," Madhuamti stated casually from where she sat knitting on the living room lounger.

Just then, the front door opened and Master Gupta walked in with the sack of flour he had fetched from the Market.

When he carried it into the kitchen, Garima received it from him, "Did you return the horse cart to Master Happy?"

"As always," nodded Master Shashi as he sat down on the chair.

His eyes fell on Kushi who had been helping her mother with the dessert for lunch.

"Did you sleep well, bitiya?" he asked warmly.

She looked up from the pie pan, "What sort of a query is that, Babuji? Of course, I would sleep well. This is my home."

"You've been sleeping at the Castle all these days," reminded Babuji, "It must have felt different to return back to the bed in which you slept as a child."

"There is no such thing, Babuji," replied Kushi, and she spoke no more for she remembered guiltily that she had not slept on the bed last night at all.

The Guptas were disappointed that Lord Arnav wouldn't make it to lunch, but having Kushi to join in the meal was handful enough.

After lunch, Kushi retired to her room upstairs and Madhumati to her room near the kitchen.

Garima was about to leave for their bedroom adjacent to the dining room and had expected her husband to follow, when he excused himself, insisting that he wanted to spend some time reading in the living room before reposing.

Leaving him to his wish, Garima left for her bedroom and nothing more happened in the afternoon except for the clouds that gathered darker and the winds that blew wilder and the slight drizzle that gradually increased in its intensity.

Towards teatime, rain began pouring in torrents, forcing Garima to bring the tea to the fireplace where it was warm instead of having it at the dining table.

Seated by the living room window, Kushi was immersed in watching the street that was blurry with the heavy torrents as she wondered worriedly when Lord Arnav would arrive.

Having placed the tea tray on the tiny table before the fireplace, Garima looked around the living room and was confused to find it devoid of her husband, "Where is your Babuji, bitiya?"

Tearing her gaze from the window, Kushi looked over her shoulder at her mother, "I haven't seen him after lunch. Wasn't he talking a nap with you?"

Garima was confused, "No, he said he wanted to-"

Just then Madhumati, who was coming from the storeroom near the kitchen, chanced a glance through the back door window and gasped when her eyes fell on the forge. "What is he doing out there in the rain!"

The next minutes were a frenzy as the three ladies rushed out and dragged in Master Shashi who had been fervently working on making the swords, bending and banging at the steel.

The reluctant man was finally seated before the fireplace and his wife was drying his hair with a towel while his daughter administered him warm tea and his sister brought him a fresh change of clothes.

A thoroughly frustrated Garima asked him, "Whatever did you have to do that for!"

"I was-," began Master Shashi hesitantly, as he sipped the warm tea, "I was only seeking to take my mind off some things..."

"What things?" demanded the exasperated wife as she dried hard at his hair.

"I don't know," mumbled the clueless Master Shashi, the face of the smiling General crossing his mind. Holding the teacup in one hand, Master Shashi pressed the fingers of his other hand to his forehead, "There seems to be something wrong somewhere... it just doesn't seem to connect right."

"You're mighty well right about that!" remarked the heated Madhumati, "Waddling off to make swords when the sky is pouring rivers!"

"What I really mean..." he began but then suddenly the cup slipped from his hand and fell crashing to the floor, the china shattering to pieces and the tea splattering all over the floor.

"BABUJI!!"

Lord Akash stood at the entrance of the Industry watching the dark afternoon sky and the heavy downpour. The swift footsteps of his brother's strides caught his attention and he looked over his shoulder.

Lord Arnav appeared at the entrance beside him and observed the rain, aware of his brother's eyes on him.

Finally Lord Arnav sighed, "Out with it, Akash, I can sense you are debating in your head again."

Lord Akash looked away, "I personally think you shouldn't be coming to the Industry, brother; this is a week of-"

"Listen, Akash," Lord Arnav turned on him, "It's being taken for granted that I let myself promise to stay at the village for a week. At least give me the courtesy of coming to the Industry to feel in touch with my real world instead of lecturing me on-"

He paused when the force of the downpour increased.

"Damn the weather!" he mumbled, "I can't be going to that accursed village in this storm!."

Lord Akash was taken aback, "Brother, are you suggesting to spend your night in the Industry?"

"Nonsense," Lord Arnav shot him a look, "I'm talking about taking the quicker route to refuge, which ofcourse leads to the Castle."

Lord Akash shook his head, "Please tell me you are only humouring."

Lord Arnav didn't speak. He was considering it quite seriously.

"Yes," he said finally, "I'm coming to the Castle."

"What? No!" Lord Akash's pleas fell to deaf ears as Lord Arnav signed to Master Lal to call for Om Prakash to bring the carriage from the stable to the Industry entrance.

"Brother, I persuade you to consider this wisely," reasoned Lord Akash desperately, "Think of your wife. Kushiji will-"

"Feel elated to get me out of her way so she can have her family and home all to herself," Lord Arnav looked at his brother with a determined expression and then he turned to take the umbrella that a servant had been ordered to bring.

The carriage wheels swilled through the wet ground, driven by Om Prakash who was seated on the wet bench, himself drenched but wrapped in an overcoat and huge hat.

Lord Akash was still turned to his brother, "But-"

"Akash," Lord Arnav placed a hand on his cousin's shoulder, "If what worries you is the answer you must accord of my presence to Nani and Di, then make excuse of the rain."

Lord Akash frowned at his brother, "Rain compelled you to cancel your return to the Village to your wife and to your fulfillment of the promise you made at the Castle?"

Lord Arnav raised an eyebrow, "Do you know, Akash, you sound more like Nani and Di these days...Is it marriage that has corrupted your bright, wicked wits?"

"My marriage has only righted my wits, brother," said an annoyed Lord Akash, his gaze drawn to the Castle carriage waiting before the entrance, "But it is sad to see you neglect your marriage."

"Worry not of my marriage, Akash," warned Lord Arnav, as the two Lords climbed down the few steps to the waiting carriage, "I know what I am doing and what I do is never wrong."

Lord Akash did not reply for his peace was wrecked. His brother was coming to the Castle against the rules of the rituals and against the wishes of those who cared for him and Kushi.

Lord Arnav opened his umbrella and held it over his head and his brother's as they made for the carriage.

Om Prakash had stepped down from the bench to open the carriage door.

As he held it open and watched Lord Akash get into it, he was surprised to find Lord Arnav also preparing to get in.

"Master?" Om Prakash blinked confusedly.

"What?" Lord Arnav shot him a glare, "Now do YOU have an issue with me coming to my own home?"

Om Prakash gulped because the last thing he wanted in the freaking cold weather was his Master's icy indignation.

"I was only-" the servant began, but his voice cracked with fear and he paused to clear his throat and gather his guts, "It is just that the boy had come with his carriage and I supposed you would return back to the Village-"

"Boy?!" Lord Arnav was taken aback, "What boy?!"

Om Prakash blinked innocently, "Why! The same boy that brought you here from the Village in the morn, sire."

"Ram?" wondered Lord Arnav, looking in the direction of the stable, "But I didn't ask him to come..."

"Dutiful lad he is, sire," said Om Prakash, adding fuel to the fire, "He must have presumed that you would need him for the return as well. He came two hours ago and had been waiting in the stable since."

Lord Arnav didn't hear anymore. One hand held onto the umbrella while, with the other, he signed urgently to Master Lal to get Ram's carriage from the stable.

"Brother?" Lord Akash looked out worriedly.

Lord Arnav shot him a look, "What are you stalling time for! Don't you have a wife at home waiting for you!"

Lord Akash was surprised by the change of plan, "Yes, but I thought-"

"Get riding, Om Prakash!" snapped Lord Arnav at the open-mouthed servant, who shut his mouth so quickly that it rattled his teeth, but knowing his Master's glare was watching his tardy moves, he gathered his arms and legs to leap onto the carriage bench , pick up the reins and fly off with the carriage to the Castle.

As one carriage rode away through the rain, another appeared from the stable and came to halt before the Industry entrance.

Holding his umbrella stiffly, Lord Arnav stared at the little boy seated on the carriage bench, wet and shivering as he held onto the reins. His hat was not as big as Om Prakash's and he had no coat to keep the cold away.

"Drat, boy!" cursed Lord Arnav, "Are you trying to get yourself ill?! Who told you to come for me! Was it my wife?"

The boy shook his head, his eyes fearstruck.

"Then why are you back?!"

The boy's eyes began to fill and his cheeks turned red with shame.

"Damn it!" Lord Arnav barked, and he shuffled were he stood before stopping to glare at the boy, "Get down that carriage!"

Letting go of the reins, the boy slid down from the wet bench to stand in the rain between the carriage and Lord Arnav.

Lord Arnav gritted his teeth, "Senseless village mutt! Can't you see the umbrella?!"

The tear-stricken boy looked at the expansive black umbrella hovering above Lord Arnav and nodded sadly.

"Then what are you standing in the rain for?!" demanded Lord Arnav, "Get your sorry state here!"

Hesitantly, the boy stumbled forward and came to stand under the umbrella, keeping a wide enough distance between himself and Lord Arnav, the rim of the umbrella barely over his little head.

Lord Arnav sighed exasperatedly, "Are you always this impossible to steer, boy? Get UNDER the umbrella!"

The boy took a cautious step forward.

"CLOSER!"

The boy took two steps forward, well under the umbrella and inches away from the First Lord.

The boy looked straight and blinked fearfully at Lord Arnav's belt which glistened every time lightning flashed across the sky.

Lord Arnav looked down, his gaze falling on the water droplets on the boy's little hat.

Heaving a sigh, the First Lord asked, "Are you still crying?"

The boy bowed his head and shook his head, desperately blinking away the fresh tears from appearing.

"Good," the First Lord ascertained, "Don't do it again. It's not manly for boys to be found crying."

The boy bit down on his lip, praying for the tears to stop.

The First Lord signed to Master Lal and, when the latter appeared in earshot, the former ordered him to ride them to the Village.

"I can't let this sickly creature sit on the open bench and catch a cold," explained Lord Arnav, looking down at the boy whose head was bowed down apologetically, "Though I personally believe he deserves to catch a cold for having presented himself here during a thunderstorm, miles away from his home."

Master Lal bowed to the First Lord in affirmation and then opened the carriage door for his Master.

But Lord Arnav didn't move.

Holding the umbrella steady, he looked at the boy.

The boy looked up at him, tears still dancing in his eyes but none flowing down.

"Well?" Lord Arnav frowned.

The boy blinked, confused.

"Get in the carriage, idiot!"

The boy's eyes widened in shock and he shook his head vigorously as though what he was ordered to do was sinful.

Tucking his free hand into his coat pocket, Lord Arnav gave the boy a shrewd glare, "Do you want me to pick you up by my hands and throw you into the carriage myself?"

The boy shook his head more vigorously, his eyes on Lord Arnav's cold pale fingers that was around the umbrella stem, holding it controllably firm.

Rending his anxious gaze away from the First Lord's hand, he looked uncertainly at the open carriage door and then stepped forward and reluctantly got in.

Shutting his umbrella, Lord Arnav nodded at Master Lal and then slipped into the carriage, sitting on the seat opposite the shivering boy's.

Wrapping his huge overcoat tighter around him, Master Lal perched up on the carriage bench and picked up the reins.

Within, Lord Arnav watched the boy bow his head, afraid to catch Lord Arnav's gaze.

"I should be going home instead of to that damned village if it weren't for you," grumbled the grouchy First Lord.

The little boy hugged himself to keep his shivering checked and Lord Arnav sighed, "Are you cold?"

The boy shook his head, his teeth rattling.

The carriage had begun moving and they could overhear the mud sloshing as the wheels rumbled forward.

Little Ram heard the First Lord shuffling and then, suddenly, something huge was draped around him and the boy looked up to see Lord Arnav putting his huge overcoat around the boy.

"That will keep you warm," said Lord Arnav as leaned back in his seat and watched the boy, wrapped warmly in the First Lord's overcoat.

The boy's eyes filled with tears again and Lord Arnav shook his head and muttered, "Unbelievable! Just like that nitwit wife of mine!" He frowned at the boy as the carriage rattled on, "Do you know what you need, crybaby? Someone to man you up!"