Whoa – I didn't realise quite a few people were reading my work, sorry if I took a while to update. Just one thing though – Shunwang, thanks for your review but were you complimenting my writing or were you confused by it (I guess it is understandable if you are confused about Shirin because her background is seriously weird) and I think you got the wrong story cos I don't know what you mean by 'songs'? Were you referring to Shirin's poem? Anyway…
Chapter Sixteen: Prince to pauper…or chef
"Wh-argh! Couldn't you see I was sleeping here?" I screamed as a bucket of grimy water was thrown from a window landing mainly on me. It awoke me from my sleep, not that I had been enjoying it, but nevertheless, this form of alarm clock was very much a nuisance. I leapt up off the dirt ground; I was drenched in the sewage. The only apology I got was a raucous call of abuse from the window that the water had been thrown from. "Next time Farah, I'M choosing where we sleep!" I cried trying to twist most of the excess water out of my shirt and trousers. Farah, who was sitting on the ground leaning on the wall of the building that the water had been thrown from, eased her eyes open and stood.
"It does not matter where we sleep, we'll still be sleeping rough," she yawned, stretching her arms out. "Are you aware that you smell horrendous?" She asked dusting herself off.
"Well if YOU were sleeping where I was then you too would be smelling!" I cried in defence.
"Okay, don't get your underwear in a twist!" murmured Farah, she woke Shirin up, somehow she had managed to stay in slumber throughout Farah and me shouting.
"Urgh…okay, so what are we doing now?" she asked.
"Well, we need money to buy something to eat first. Okay, does anyone have anything they are willing to sell?" I asked. Judging by the next thing Farah said, she must have thought I was looking at her.
"I'm not selling my locket or my medallion if that is what you're thinking!" she immediately rebuked.
"I wasn't implying that…well, maybe we could busk, however, I very much doubt we make a harmonising trio; in addition, I can't sing…although…" I murmured. We were silent for a moment, however, Shirin pointed something out – something we should have thought of.
"Um, you do realise I am practically a master thief? Stealing some food would just be like taking food from a baby," she pointed out.
"'Taking food from a baby'? Why would you do such a mean thing?" Farah asked slightly shocked, I personally had to agree and put on quite a scornful face.
"No, Your Majesties, it's a metaphor, I wouldn't really do such a thing," Shirin explained. Immediately a slightly embarrassed look appeared on both Farah's face and mine. Farah and I weren't really acquainted with common phrases. "Okay, well you tell me what you want to eat and then I'll meet you back here," she said.
"Shirin, you need hardly draw up a entire menu, just grab something that'll keep us full or so till midday," I explained. She shrugged and then went off.
"You want another mango?" asked Shirin. She must have stolen at least twelve! I couldn't figure out how though, she hadn't any big pockets and her side-bag was only small. We were sat on the ground in a small alley, this time we weren't sat under a window.
"I'm not sure we really should be eating mangoes that have been stolen, they're sacred fruits," murmured Farah who had accepted Shirin's offer although she wasn't incredibly happy about the situation. I was noticing that Shirin was being a little less distant and cold towards Farah, but not entirely.
"They're mushy, yellow and hurt when thrown at you…what's so sacred about them?" asked Shirin. Farah went on to explain.
"Well, Lord Shiva brought the mango tree to Earth for his wife, Parvathi. Parvathi loved mangoes and was sad when she found out that on Earth mangoes could not be found," explained Farah.
"Oh, well don't be expecting me to go and plant trees of your favourite fruit across Persia just because I love you," I warned.
"You know, shouldn't we be thinking of someway to get transport, more food and somewhere to sleep where the wake-up call isn't a bucket of water?" suggested Shirin. We were silent but Shirin looked at Farah and me as if our only option was obvious, she finally explained. "We should get jobs!"
"Oh. Um, Shirin, you do realise that the Prince and I have never actually worked…ever," pointed out Farah. This was true…unless being a Prince was a job. Shirin put her head in her left hand.
"Oh I don't believe this…c'mon I'm sure you two have some sort of day-to-day skill," she cried, we looked at her blankly. "Uh…okay, you go around looking for jobs; I'll meet you at midday at a tavern called Amalendu's Tavern. I saw it near one of the market places earlier, okay?" asked Shirin. We nodded and then dispersed into the crowd of the Ayodhya.
We met later in the tavern; it seemed a good to drown our sorrows (you can probably guess that we were thought hardly suitable for any of the jobs we had tried, I went for a job of an actor who would be playing a prince – yet I was thought un-princely!)..that is, if we had money to drown our sorrows with. Shirin had tried a lot of apprentice jobs, blacksmith, carpenter, alchemist, but she was refused for being 'of the wrong orientation', put basically, being a woman. I was too un-princely to act as a prince yet I was far too royal-like to be a guard. Farah had tried to become a dancer…but was said to have had 'no rhythm', she went for a job as a scribe (because she could read and write)…but she was just laughed at by all the male scribes in the room…in fact, they were all men so maybe that had something to do with her not getting the job. The song that was being sung was hardly helpful for it was incredibly depressing. The three of us slouched, all feeling very melancholic.
"I wish I had lived a normal life…maybe then I could have learnt a skill and have become very good at it…" I heard Farah murmur. Shirin sat back in her seat.
"Don't beat yourself up Farah, life's a bitch, no matter how good you try to be at something there's always someone better than you," Shirin muttered. I looked at our surroundings. The floorboards weren't terribly creaky or dusty, in fact, the whole place was incredibly tidy. There were several tables that had chairs all facing a small platform that had the daily entertainment performing on it. The walls, that were stone, had a bright red stripe going across it like a boarder. The only problem I saw with the tavern was the lack of waiters or waitresses, the one cook was constantly coming out of the kitchen to take the orders. The cook hardly looked like a chef in my opinion, I just couldn't imagine him creating some sort culinary masterpiece. He was a pale-ish man with light freckles that went across his cheeks and the bridge of his nose. His eyes could not be seen due to a long black fringe – but I guessed they were probably dark. He was of medium build and height and had a very poised posture. His face was round but had a pointed chin and flat cheeks. He seemed somewhat serious for I hadn't let seen him smile, well, his voice lacked extreme seriousness, it seemed slightly soft, low, effortless and his words just seemed to trail on like the clouds passing. I looked over to one empty table except for a man, he was staring at us constantly but I couldn't figure out why. I looked him straight in the eyes. Suddenly his eyes widened, as if he had suddenly recalled something from his memory, he got up and quickly made his way to our table, his face had a giant grin on it. He sat opposite me, still grinning, as if expecting me to say something. He finally explained who he was in a joyful voice.
"You obviously don't remember me! I'm Amalendu, you met me yesterday, after the sun had set," he said lively. I suddenly recalled the face we had seen last night and realised it was him. I should have guessed from the way his turban was incredibly untidy. I was about to introduce myself and my companions; however, before I could do this Shirin already was getting very close to Amalendu.
"Hi, I'm Dipesh, now you seem like the kinda guy who would help out some jobless young adults," she smiled. Amalendu shuffled, a little frightened, away from Shirin but he tried to keep a smile on his face.
"Uh…you're looking for jobs then?" he murmured.
"Yes, judging by the name of this tavern, we take it that you own it. We see it is very short-staffed," said Farah. I saw Amalendu was hesitating, I would be too, he knew nothing about us.
"It was rude I didn't introduce myself, I'm Cheveme and this is Farah. We've recently come to this city and we were wondering if we would be able to get jobs, so far we have not been lucky," I said.
"Well that is a shame. My father started out as only a small merchant, now he owns a lot of businesses here in Ayodhya, maybe if you start like that then maybe history will repeat itself. You're still young…how old are you all?" asked Amalendu. Telling him our actual ages wouldn't really be that bad.
"I am eighteen, as is Farah and Sh – Dipesh is seventeen," I said, almost letting my guard down. Amalendu seemed so friendly and innocent I didn't feel the need to hide things from him – but he was a stranger.
"Really? I'm twenty-two, this business actually belongs to my father, he has the same name you see, but I have to manage it…but I can't say I am very good at it. You're right, I am short-staffed…I suppose it wouldn't harm to put you on trial for a week or so," Amalendu finally agreed.
"'On trial' – what have we done wrong?" I asked, looking confused, as was Farah. Shirin put her head in her hands and then looked at Amalendu.
"Don't listen to them – they didn't get out much as children. Anyway, we have another problem – accommodation." Shirin added.
"Well…I suppose I can sort that out. This is partly an inn so you can stay in one of the rooms – but I will have to take the rent out of your pay. So, when can you start?" Amalendu enquired.
"As soon as possible!" Shirin smiled. I couldn't help but find that Shirin really liked Amalendu and now, after the intimidating first impressions, Amalendu seemed to like Shirin too.
"Well in that case, Farah, Cheveme, could you go in the kitchen and Shirin, you can be a waiter with me," said Amalendu smiling, but smiling at Shirin who had suddenly melted like butter for Amalendu. I wasn't happy with Shirin and Amalendu now (and I was NOT jealous…) so I decided to quickly destroy their little moment.
"OKAY! Okay, no need to make everyone sick in the room; this is a place where people eat! Moreover, AGE DIFFERENCE! Shirin you're five years younger! Hey, you know what, I don't really want to be a cook – I don't even look like a cook, but I'm sure Shirin can cook so how about me and Shirin swapping jobs?" I said quickly.
"You do know that you have just aired your thoughts aloud?" Amalendu said looking at me. I didn't really know why, but I acted so childishly, mimicking his voice as to offend him, I hadn't a clue what came over me.
"Well at least Cheveme's name doesn't mean 'Pure like the Moon', how feminine is that!" muttered Farah, taking my side – but probably only because she felt the need, being a friend and all, to take my side, she probably didn't feel the same feeling as I was feeling.
"Well let's be honest Farah, it's not like we actually know the meaning to 'Cheveme's' name is it, we don't even know it," Shirin muttered ever so quietly.
"Pardon? Do you actually still want these jobs?" asked Amalendu not understanding but hearing what Shirin said.
"Oh, nothing. Hey, shouldn't we start earning some money now – you two go in the kitchen already!" ordered Shirin. Farah and I had to remove ourselves from our seats and went through the door that the chef had so often gone through after having collecting the orders.
I tried to peer through the gap in the door, trying to see what Shirin was doing…I wasn't spying, well, I was but I was doing it for Shirin's own good, or at least that was what I had told myself. A loud cough came from behind me; I turned round to see the long-fringed chef standing, patiently, for me to listen to him. He began to speak in his low yet relaxed voice.
"Okay, firstly, you will have to tie your hair back or keep it under a turban. I don't want anyone finding a hair in his or her food," he said first pointing to me. I saw, hung up on a hook on the wall, several large pieces of colourful material that were used for turbans. I took a piece and tried to wrap it round my head – it was only now that I realised why Amalendu had such a terribly tied turban – putting the thing on was like some sort of art! "Uh-kay, now, I am the Cook, that is all you will know me as," he said.
"Wait, hold on one moment! Now I've already met a guy who went around only having a name that was his occupation and you can probably guess what happened to him! I'm the only guy that is allowed to have a name that is the same as his occupation!" I pointed out, childish, yes, but I was in a childish mood. The Cook looked at me blankly, maybe he rolled his eyes or squinted them, but I wouldn't know because of that long fringe.
"I thought you said your name was Cheveme," pointed out the Cook, I suddenly realised my mistake.
"Uh…it is," I murmured. I was sure the Cook was raising an eyebrow and I couldn't help but feel embarrassed.
"Well, I suppose there isn't terribly much to know about cooking – I mean, I lived as a hermit for seven years perfecting the art of cooking, resulting in me going half mad and forgetting my name, I think it began with a 'A'," murmured the Cook absent-mindedly. If we didn't honestly need this job then Farah and I would be backing away by now.
"Um, yes, now back to cooking?" Farah said hoping to direct the conversation in a sanitised direction. The Cook suddenly came back to attention and continued.
"Oh yes, well, if I say for you to tandoori something, then go and put it in a clay-oven. I'm sure not much will go wrong, it's not as if you're royalty and have practically never cooked before," smiled the Cook…somehow, I knew this was going to go terribly wrong…
After several exploded aubergines, nine spilt curries and one fly in a serving of raitha, it was finally closing time. We met Shirin and Amalendu in the empty dining area, they were busy tidying away and blowing out the candles that were keeping the room alight. Shirin seemed to have enjoyed her time, all she was doing was asking people what they wanted to eat and drink; she hadn't almost chopped off all her fingers!
"Oh heya, nice gloves Farah…uh, wait, those are bandages aren't they?" said Shirin looking at Farah's bandaged hands.
"I didn't realise you couldn't use a dagger to cut thick objects until I had actually tried…" she mumbled. We had had to change into white overalls and Farah and I had left our weapons in the corner of the kitchen, except for the dagger that Farah kept under her overalls. The Cook hadn't got too overly annoyed at us. He seemed more amused than angry.
"Namaste everyone," he smiled and left the building. It amazed me how his overalls had remained clean while mine looked like the sky with a rainbow painted across it. Shirin was holding a book in her hands, it was old with thin, yellowed pages; she noticed me looking at it.
"Some old guy gave it to me, as a kinda present – kind eh?" she smiled.
"Hmmm…what's it about?" I asked looking suspiciously at the book.
"Oh it's about dreams and what they mean," she explained cheerfully. It surprised me how happy she was; I didn't think a thief would like doing a day of honest work. Amalendu yawned.
"Well, here's your keys, you'll find your room, it's the ninth and last one on the left. I'll see you tomorrow at dawn," he said, he seemed to have his own room on the bottom floor, it was on the opposite wall of the platform. He disappeared into his room leaving the three of us alone.
"Well, this jobs seems nice so let's stay in it for a couple of months," smiled Shirin, she turned round but I quickly grabbed her shoulder and turned her round to face Farah and me again.
"Shirin! Do you know what it is like to have the contents of a stuffed aubergines be splattered in your face?" I cried, she blinked at me blankly, "We're not staying here for long, just until we have enough money to buy what we need!"
"Well…well, maybe I could just stay while you go on ahead," she suggested. She knew that was a dumb assumption.
"Shirin, YOU are the one that is taking us to the temple so you have to stay with us!" I pointed out.
"Well, um, I don't know exactly where the temple is…" she muttered quietly. I looked at her sharply.
"What?" I asked darkly.
"Well all I knew was that it was in the mountain range north of India, I didn't know where it was pacifically," Shirin muttered quietly.
"So you mean to say that you led me on, thinking you know exactly where we are going, only for you to now admit that it could take months for us to find the mountain!" I said calmly but harshly.
"Hey I led no one on – " said Shirin but I interrupted.
"Well you could have bloody-well have made it more clear that you didn't know where it was? What the heck are we going to do now?" I cried.
"Okay! Before you two try and tear each other's eyes out, I think we better get some sleep! Tomorrow we can we can buy a map…there can't be that many mountains," said Farah quickly playing peacekeeper. What she had suggested would be a good option but I was still angry with Shirin…but I didn't know why, I knew she probably didn't have the full knowledge of where we were going, so why was it now that I was shouting at her?
"C'mon, you can't stay angry at me forever!" I heard Shirin call from my left, every side of me was dark though for it was night. The room was small, long but not wide. It had three neat beds in it and a window that admittedly let in the draft, but not as much that it would keep you awake – it was my restless mind that kept me awake. The walls were stone and painted white, but this made darkened handprints visible. The floorboards were even and cleaned, but had holes in them. The bed, though soft, proved to be small and always uncomfortable. The door, though a perfect fitting, creaked. It seemed the room had plenty of good aspects – but all were tainted. I was still unsure of why I was annoyed with Shirin, I suppose it was due to the fact that it had been a long day and my personality did seem to be undergoing some changes. Over the last day, things had happened so quickly and my mind was finding it hard to take in. Amalendu seemed an okay guy, he was far to innocent to lie and I knew that was the only side he had, but still. I didn't really like the fact Shirin liked him, I didn't really want her getting close to anyone that I believed was an 'outsider', if she fell for him totally, and ended up telling him everything, then he could easily go and betray us thinking he was doing the right thing – something I couldn't let happen. I wasn't at all happy with the situation, but we were going to have to stick with it for a while. I heard pages turning; Shirin must have been looking at that book she was given. "What do you dream of?" she asked. I turned my body so I was looking at her; she was sat up in her bed, using the moonlight to read. I shrugged.
"Sand, I suppose," I murmured. She turned some pages.
"Sand…'beware of new people or friends'," read Shirin, "well, that can't be referring to Amalendu, he's far too nice." I shuffled back so I was facing the window and Farah's bed; she was asleep. I knew it was not referring to her, she was hardly a 'new' friend. But…Shirin, she was a new friend…no, I trusted her; it had to be referring to Amalendu…