|| - Dark Queen II -||

I drew him in my world;

I draw him all the time,

But I don’t know

Where to draw the line…

- Lang Leav
_________

Dave liked his tea strong, his pen sharp and his ink dark. There was always a pressed flower in his personal books, sometimes used to mark a special page, sometimes a simple souvenir. He would stroke his chin when he was in deep thought, his grey eyes would flash when his temper rose. He was a good violinist, but the times when he had been learning it was a testing period of all their good will. He never kept a dog after they had to drown his first and only hound. If one ever cared enough to ask, or drew closer enough to be confided in Lilian Annabeth Kent could tell so many such insignificant yet vital observations she had made on David McLane over the years. She knew him better than his own father, perhaps, if you are daring enough, even better than the man himself.

So when she observed him silent and withdrawn over the breakfast table, eyes narrowed and expression distant, she knew exactly what information could break his meditation. Lily did not like it when Dave’s thoughts became too complicated for her to decipher. Instead, she would always found that crack in his wall from which she could get an inkling on where his wonderings were headed.

“Afreen,” she said, delicately placing her teacup on saucer. It made a tiny ‘tink’ of porcelain clicking against one another and David looked up, interest flickering in his grey eyes. Lily savoured the pause, the last bit of tea on her tongue, a tint of sweetness amidst the bitter aftertaste. “The woman from the other night… Her name is Afreen.”

David folded his napkin, ready to finish the prolonged breakfast at least. Andrew had bailed out on them, complaining a severe headache. He wanted to check on him one last time before heading out for the day. As he looked back at Lily his eyes were apprehensive. Dealing with Miss Kent in the company of her brother, or a larger crowd was easier, preferred to handling her company alone. For in the former situation, he simply had to tolerate her mindless – London – fashion – tips. But Lilian Kent in isolation was a different creature, there was the mindless veneration for everything that is worth a lady of her station – of cause, but then there were the covert glances, the pointed statements and bargaining – which he loathed.

“I believe you need something in return for your efforts to fetch that information?” He asked her, not trying too hard to keep away the hint of annoyance from his tone.

Lily pressed the napkin to her lips in perfect pretence of a lady and looked up at him.

“Only if you’re willing to Mr. McLane…” she said pleasantly and when David did not reply, continued hastily. “I’d get bored in this boiling, dusty place if you leave me with my sick brother. I’m sure he will not emerge from his room until it is time for dinner. I’d like to accompany you on your stroll with Nawabzada, if only, you don’t find me too much of an inconvenience for your plans today.”

“Very well,” he said curtly as he rose, letting Lily convince herself that he did not see the victorious smile that briefly twisted her lips. “I’ll see you at the gates then. We’re strolling the market place again.”

After Lily had excused herself to get ready for the ‘dusty day ahead’ as she called it, David removed himself to check on Andrew and his progress. Unlike his sister had believed, Andrew was far from resting on his bed, instead he was sitting behind his desk, a book propped open at his elbow and an arrow placed on the centre of the table over which he was pouring his attention. Dave shut the door behind him, making a snap that made the other Kent look up in alarm.

He visibly relaxed the next moment when he realized it was only his partner in all secrets and leaned back on his chair, looking up at his friend as he approached.

“Found anything?” Dave inquired briefly, his gaze too shifting to follow Andrew’s to the arrow.

“No poison,” Andrew confided in him and seeing Dave losing interest added. “But there is something strange – which I’m trying to confirm. If you move closer,” he shifted in his seat so that Dave could come and stand by his side and he would not be blocking the light. “Look here – there are markings – I believe they belong to –“

“Witchcraft,” Dave confirmed it for him, without even glancing at the old text Andrew was referring to. “A cursed arrow.”

“Which in turn means your suspicions regarding the archer’s origin were right,” Andrew nodded at Dave, his expression reflecting a mild surprise. “Unless for some strange reason all the weapons of Chandranagara army carry curses, this arrow did not come from the bow of a guard.”

“Told you – they weren’t carrying bows. I wouldn’t be so foolish to linger on such a good target point if so.”

“What do you think this means? Apart from the very obvious that someone wanted to curse the local hero?”

“I think that’s a very good point to begin thinking about it. The local hero has more than one set of enemies. An enemy who is from the outside, but has enough means to place an archer in the heart of the city…”

“An enemy with spies – who could he be?”

“Or she? Their methods are relatively sneaky.”

“What are we going to do with this arrow then?” Andrew asked finally, looking at the distant look in Dave’s grey eyes. It seemed he had a very good assumption of who the enemy was, only, Andrew was certain he would not be sharing it with him any sooner. Patience was one of the many ground builders of their friendship. Dave was a man who guarded his secrets too closely to feel comfortable to share them with another – even his best friend.

“Keep it for now,” he said briskly, stroking his chin. “I’m sure there will be some use of it.”

“A use that involves us getting a step closer to Meghdyuth?

“Perhaps,” his answer was vague. “That depends on the outcome of my negotiations with two people, one of whom I’m setting out to see right now.”

“The Nawabzada,” Andrew guessed earning a little smile from Dave. “And the other?”

“Your sister tells me her name is Afreen.”

**

Aziz Khan paced more than he searched, shouted more than he ordered and scowled more than he considered. He was having a bad start to his day. In fact, he had a bad ending to his last day which stretched on to loom over the next sunrise as well. The prisoners who were his responsibility had escaped. The peace of outer city which he was supposed to maintain was in tatters just like the burnt remains of the city square punishing grounds. No need to say, his father was not pleased with him.

Then there was the Intel that Meghdyuth was sighted in the area during the events last night. He had immediately decided that that piece of information will not reach his father’s ears, otherwise he will take less time to hand the reins of outer city to his favourite Satyavan, than Aziz would take to utter the word Meeghdyuth. Aziz would not lose another opportunity to his foster brother without having a fight for it first.

He was still brooding over those dark possibilities when David McLane and his daydreaming companion joined their party. He had been leading his troops to search the border of inner and outer city, where Meghdyuth was supposedly sighted for any traces leading them to the rebel or his mode of transportation. He shared this information with the new comers unwillingly, especially since he suspected McLane would supply the details to the Nawab and lord McLane as soon as he gets back. But then again, he had seen the way McLane’s eyes lingered on the ground and it reminded him that this man was supposedly known for his observation and deduction skills – perhaps – he could prove to be useful than he had been so far when it comes to these trips they were making over the kingdom?

“Oh my god!” Lily exclaimed after a while, “is that blood?”

Indeed it was a trail of blood to be precise, as if a wounded person had made a quick escape via these tracks.  David gave Lily an unreadable look, before following Aziz who was excitedly following the trail of blood until they reached a half hidden – but clearly used – passageway running underneath the city wall. Creepers kept it well cuddled into secrecy and dust numbed any noises of approaching steps. Aziz, wondered how many such secrets were hidden in the fortress that they thought they had conquered all those years ago. It was Lily who broke the train of his thoughts once more.

“I believe if you follow it, it will surely lead you to the traitor Nawabzada!” She sounded as excited as a five year old at Christmas and David frowned at her, before countering softly.

“Presuming the injured was indeed the traitor and not some mere merchant running for his life after the fire.”

Lily blinked once, before pressing her lips together taking the hint to stop giving suggestions. But Aziz however looked more than eager to follow her suggestion.

“But, a lead to follow is better than roaming in circles,” he said defending Lily’s idea.

“Depends on how desperate are you to find Meghdyuth,” David said coldly. “Let me rephrase that, are you willing to accuse some noble – who’s residence this route will end up and face the consequences of being proved wrong?”

At that Aziz looked stuck. There was a clear astonishment in his eyes as he regarded David McLane again. If it was not for the note book in his hand and his ink smudged fingers, he would have taken this David McLane to be a completely different man to the one he had encountered earlier. There was no demure gentleness and introvert – ness to his behaviour anymore, instead he looked so much in his element than Aziz was.

“If it is a hint that you want – one that will take you to Meghdyuth I will provide you one in exchange of a favour.” He went on, his grey eyes intend upon Aziz’s hazel ones. A moment passed in which he let Aziz consider and comprehend his offer. Lily fiddled with the carved handle of her lace umbrella, her eyes flickering between each of them in turns.

David did not emphasise on the advantages and risks of this choice. He let Aziz sort them out for himself. There was the glory and praise, if he manages to catch the rebel, solidifying his standing in his father’s eyes. Then there was also all the risks of failure and the dangers of what David might want in exchange. It was not a bargain of equals, although Aziz did not know it yet, David McLane never bargained unless he held the upper hand of the deal. He may let the other party think otherwise, or be blissfully ignorant altogether. His grey eyes were unwavering as David watched the man weighing his options. Finally Aziz spoke.

“May I know what you want in return?”

The corner of David’s lips twitched a little, a sign that only Lily seemed to notice. She felt a slight chill of watching a spider close in on its prey. This was a gesture of David winning, of him getting what he wanted. She wondered if Aziz saw him for the dangerous man that he was and asked that question in an attempt to safeguard himself, or it was merely a question for the sake of questioning, simply so that he could impress his intelligence on them.

“A favour,” repeated David. “One that I believe only you will be able to grant me!” His eyes flashed a little as his voice dropped. “You see, I’ve seen the perfect muse for my best ever painting one of these days. I would like you to arrange me a session with her so that I could draw her portrait for my collection.”

Aziz exhaled loudly, as if he had been expecting something far more exhausting than that as a request. Then his forehead creased again.

“And who is this lady in question?”

Of cause again, the Nawabzada could have been no more predictable. He would want to know the station and the title of the woman David was calling his muse before making any promises. Otherwise he would end up duty bound to fulfil a wish that his social restrains did not allow him to.

“She is that courtesan from the mehfil the other night – someone told me her name was Afreen.”

A flicker of hesitance in his eyes made Lily wonder if Aziz had any ties with the woman in question, but she was herself more conflicted about David’s motives to care about a Nawabzada’s connections with a courtesan. It had only been momentarily, before Aziz shook his head to get rid of a particular thought and clasped his hands together.

“I will see what I can do. But you must know, she is a very strong willed lady who makes her own choices.”

“All the more reason why she is the perfect muse!” David piped.

Aziz mentally shook his head at him. The entire intelligence god had wasted on this man, he thought to himself before masking that thought from reflecting on his expression. For a moment he was almost impressed with him, and then on the very next moment David McLane proved himself to be the airheaded painter Aziz thought he was. Well, he would let Afreen sort it out herself. If he knew the woman well enough, she could be the bane of McLane’s visit. Perhaps, on that pretext he could be freed from these exhausting trips around the kingdom as well. Anything to keep a guest indoors!

“Then I think you should uphold your end of bargain as well, Mr. McLane.” He told David in what he imagined was an important tone.

“Ah yes – Meghdyuth,” David walked a few paces to his right and smoothed the rough stones on the wall with his palm, as if looking for something. “I think he went this way!” He let his words trail off as he pulled the concealed leaver which opened the trapdoor within the trapdoor.

There was a collective gasp at that and nobody questioned how he had known this was the right way for there was a little pool of dried blood right at the threshold to the darkened tunnel beyond.

Aziz marched towards David and looked inside the tunnel, trying all his might not to look impressed with this discovery. His guards were already preparing to venture ahead, lighting torchers to carry with them.

“If you don’t mind Nawabzada, I would appreciate it if you could arrange my session the soonest possible.”

“It will be arranged,” Aziz said urgently, too eager to catch himself a rebel that he did not  even invite the guests to accompany him on the adventure. Instead he motioned his guards to follow him and disappeared into the darkness – now lit by their torchlight.

David came back to Lily, who regarded him with a cold look.

“I believe you have a reason to exchange a rebel in return of a courtesan?”

“Oh yes! An excellent one,” David smiled at her perplexed look. “You see a person who knows not what they are looking for, never finds them.”

**

||Note||

Gave up on my attempt to do what cannot be done. This was originally a part of a very long chapter called dark queen, which I shall let it remain, without calling it the cursed arrow. And I hope it amuses you to know, there will be a part III to this particular dark chapter. It will follow, in due schedule.

Cheers to the dark queens; two down one to go!

Don't forget the little star and of cause I would love to hear your views!

Thanks for reading!♡