Smoke screen

Summery: Do I need to send Veer to hunt Anwar?

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The preliminaries.

Amrit thinks of the word with dare filling her. The morning hadn't been off to a good start and if she was to go by Veer's words the reappearance of Mr. Raizada couldn't mean anything good for them.

He was not an omen no.

But rather an embodiment of the malintentions of someone around them.

Her fingers are cold, the same chill settle deep in her bones. She is to sit here and watch as Veer is exposed to every possible danger out there in the race course.

She tugs at the sleeves of her dress, now that finally Rukzaar had removed her chooriyaan, Amrit has to choose a dress with long sleeves to keep her branded arm concealed. It means nothing to her anymore, not in the sense it once did.

But others will think differently. And she did not want a few misplaced words on her arm to create an obstacle between Veer and his rightful place on the Shrigar throne.

Amrit sits alone, with only Gita by her side. Without joining Rani Sahiba, Chacha sahab and their guest Chandra Singh Rathod on the family stands.

It took too much from her resolve to watch Veer taking part in this lethal trap of a game that she did not want to put up with the general ill will of those people along with it.

She'd have liked Menka ma by her side but Amrit had to send her with that potraight of Mr. Raizada to Shravan Singh so the prince's guard could take measures accordingly.

She wants to believe the older man is as good as she had once known him. But if this new twisted world of royal politics has ever taught her anything it is that it has a strange way of getting the worst out of men. So Amrit was on her guard by the time Dai Ma approaches her.

"Rani Sahiba wants you on the family stand Dulhan Rani," as usual the woman's tone grips with disdain. "Being the functional royal of the family you can't sit here among the commoners."

"I like the view from here," Amrit tells her breezily. "And I am closer enough for Kuwar sahab in case he needs anything."

She clutches at Gita's hand tightly and waits for the woman to counter that. But instead Amrit notices that her eyes are elsewhere. Following her gaze, she sees Randheer taking a seat by his mother's side.

There is an empty look about him, a completely dazed expression of loss. Not for once does he turn to look at her, or even in the general direction. Amrit would have been glad had it not been for the sense of devastation that emitted from him. Frowning she turns back to Dai Ma.

"Par yahaan aap akheli hai Dulhan Rani," Dai Ma points out. "Usually women from the royal family don't sit on these rows alone -"

"Akheli kahaan hai?" Rukzaar called from behind, approaching them, dressed rather elegantly in the Huzenabadh blues. She settles herself on the empty chair by Amrit's side and looks at Dai Ma with her eyes narrowed. "Am I not good enough company?"

"And what shall be your rank -" Dai Ma begins.

"Insolence!" Making the woman whip around Anwar calls from the course below.

He is already dressed for the race and had come to the edge of the stand to talk to them. Neither the look in his eyes, nor the horse whip in his hand promise friendship.

"What makes you think you have the authority to inquire her rank from a visiting royal dignitary?"

Amrit almost laughs at the look those words get, from Dai Ma as well as Rukzaar.

"Why you -" Rukzaar begins and Anwar is quick to point out towards his right with his eyes. Following his gaze Rukzaar's eyes fall on other arrivals - among them, her maternal uncle Ali is glaring daggers at them.

Anwar stretches out his arm towards her.

"Won't you wish me luck, m'lady?"

"Aap ke Ammie aa rahi hai," Rukzaar tells him in a hot whisper, reaching over the stand to glare at him. Anwar grins at her.

"Haan. I brought her along. Rukzaar Jaan. Ek bhaagi hui titli ko pakadni hai." The look he gives her makes Rukzaar swallow. Since when has Anwar started to give her that look of his. "Dua nahi karongi humare jeet ki?"

"Please!" She snorts. "I have always been a supporter of Bhaijaan, you know that."

Amrit clears her throat, Anwar looks at her and smiles apologetically.

"Huzenabadh hasn't been half as pleasant without you guys," he says, although his eyes return to Rukzaar. "You don't have to worry about Veer sahab Babhi jaan," his voice is reassuring. Just then Farida too joins the girls.

"Yes," she says nodding at Anwar.

"We have a way of keeping an eye out for him. He'll be fine Amrit." She reaches out to take Amrit's hand and pat the back of her palm. "Off you go!" She says to Anwar.

Rukzaar chokes on a giggle at the look on his face. He narrows his eyes at her and still takes their leave. Farida turns her eyes on Dai Ma next.

"Are you going to join us?" Her voice is rather cold. "If not - you should probably get going. You are blocking the view you see."

Amrit takes Rukzaar's hand and squeezes it gently.

"Do I need to send Veer to hunt Anwar?" She asks in whisper just as Farida turns to her attendants for some last minute instructions.

The bevy of Huzenabadh guards scattered on the stands behind them make her feel imperceptibly better and her voice is tinted with teasing.

"Babhi...!" Rukzaar bites her lip and pleads. "Please no!"

Amrit takes a look at her coloured cheeks and smiles to herself.

"I thought so," she remarks. Rukzaar links their arms and hides her face against Amrit's shoulder. She reminds Amrit of a Vashma in long gone days.

"Woh paagal hai," she mutters complaining. Amrit giggles.

"I beg to disagree," Amrit whispers back conspiratorially.

Her eyes sweeps over the line of contenders far away, lining up to await the starting signal. For a moment her gaze pauses on Veer, caressing over him with all the weight of her prayers to keep him safe. Then they shift to Anwar. Even at a distance Amrit could see he is looking towards their direction. "Lagtha hai abhi abhi hosh aaya hai."

The signaling gun goes off and the hooves kick off dust. The game begins.

*

Randheer watches her from the corner of his eyes, torn between a need to flee and a need to cause some irreparable harm. How could the world remain so peaceful when inside him was a ranging tornado?

Amrit is giggling at something the girl beside her said. They share a binocular, watching in turns at the respective men - the kuwar of Shrighar and the nawabzada of Huzenabadh.

The other girl, her companion too seem to share such a bond with her. And the older woman - Begham Sahiba of Huzenabadh- his mother's opponent in politics kept looking at them like a hen guarding her brood.

All those women had their affections pinned on him; Veer. He does not deserve it. Does not deserve their prayers - does not deserve that love - does not deserve all this celebration. Not when he is cause of such trauma and grief to a woman with no fault of her own.

Rani Ma touches him with a hesitant hand, there are tears in her eyes and a silent begging directed at him. Randheer tries to relax his tightly wound body, his clenched jaw.

"Kya aap humein kabhi Maaf nahi kar paayenge beta?" Her words are lost in the cheers that rise.

God, was he even worthy of judging her? How much had this woman suffered because of him and all those Pratap Singhs one after the other?

Randheer wraps an arm around her and Rani Ma presses her head on his shoulder.

He has no words to offer her and she wants none. They hold to each other like that for a moment longer.

The preliminaries are drawing to a close, riders returning to complete their round - dust has coated them all - baked in the sun, the rising dust looks like mist of copper and gold.

From the stands behind them, or was it beneath them - Randheer hears the unmistakable tug of a rifle being readied for a shot.

He moves almost instinctively and Rani ma holds him fast.

"No," she mutters. "Don't. For a man who does not consider you a brother - you too have no obligations to keep. Let both of us free ourselves from this burden starting from today."

*

From the stands below, Amrit turns her binoculars on the spectators on a whim. Then she freezes. In the sea of people, there is a ghost from her past.

The binoculars slip from her clammy hands just as Anwar's horse rears back.

For some reason, the two men who had come almost head to head get more attention from the spectators thanks to that spectacle.

As the crowd pushes each other trying to get a better look at whatever was happening to the Nawabzada's horse, the rifle is lowered - and by the time Amrit with trembling hands picks up the binoculars for a second look - the ghost of her past is gone.

The crowd 'ooh' s and 'aah' s at the sportsmanship of the two princes, as the one who could have easily ridden off to victory, returns to make sure the wild horse doesn't kill its unfortunate rider.

The first place of preliminaries makes no difference, still the fact that Kuwar of Shrighar sacrifices it to make sure his friend is safe tells a lot about his priorities.

Shrigar may still have reservations about the ties with Huzenabadh, but its subjects celebrate their friendship with cheers as the two princes finally emerge from dust, bloodied, bruised but with matching grins of exhilaration.

Rukzaar rushes to Anwar - uncaring of the spectacle she makes as she throws her arms around his neck, while Veer gathers Amrit - a little more subtly, yet with all the deep longing.

"I told you dua karna," Anwar mutters complaningly.

"Jaan hi nikhal gayi meri," Amrit informs Veer.

"You two boys will kill me someday," Farida announces to the general gathering.

Anwar smiles at her, but pauses to give Veer a thoughtful look. Veer too detaches himself from Amrit's embrace to look at him. The two men exchanges a thought and a grim look comes over both.

"If I get my horse looked over what do you think I will find?" Anwar asks Veer.

Amrit looks from one man to the other, trying to understand what they meant.

"A dart, probably - in one of the hind legs." Veer answers, unbuckling his head gear to run a hand through his sweaty hair.

Rukzaar's arm linked with Anwar's tightens slightly.

"I told you not to do this!" She hisses, frowning. "It was my uncle wasn't it?" She turns to glare at the stands. "All thanks to your lie Ali sahab now wants you dead!"

Veer gives them a look and cocks one of his eyebrows.

"You two have a lot to explain." He tells them grimly, with such a judging look at their linked arms that Rukzaar starts to pull away, Anwar rolls his eyes at Veer and takes her hand more firmly in his.

"I don't see the need to," he says rather self assuredly and turning to Rukzaar he shakes his head.

"It isn't Ali. He may run his mouth and try to scare you, but he will not dare to touch me."

Anwar's attention returns to Veer.

"For some reason Kuwar sahab, I feel this was just the beginning," he says as they start to walk out, allowing the two young woman to proceed them as they legged behind deep in conversation.

Farida and her bevy of attendants had already left the race course.

Amrit and Rukzaar keep glancing back at them, hanging into their conversation, they stop when Anwar's words are carried to them.

"Say - it was a prologue, for a incident yet to come. Somebody wanted an spectacle to be made, perhaps a rift to be stirred. Huzenabadh's prince getting injured on Daulatabadh soil would have caused quite an uproar."

Amrit looks worriedly at both of them.

"What would someone get by causing such uproar?"

"You may never know Biwi sahab. Maybe they want to do something even more dangerous and put the blame on Huzenabadh saying they did it to avenge Anwar's injury? What - why are you looking like that - it's perfectly logical!"

Veer gives them a look of betrayal.

"Oh it is," Anwar says, clapping his friend on his back. "They are just surprised at your bhura soach."

That makes them laugh, and the laughter lifts the weight on their shoulders. Still laughing and arm in arm, the group of four young people continue on their way.

They make such a picture of a family, Randheer thinks begrudgingly - despite Veer and him never bridging their differences - Veer still had the world at his feet, while his world kept slipping from his fingers.

"Jealousy is a godsend," Chandra Singh Rathod says from his right, his eyes appreciating Randheer's expression. "If you know how to channel it well."

"This is wrong," he mutters through gritted teeth. "How could God protect the wrongdoers?"

"God?" The older man chuckles. "My dear boy, God is within us. His will is what we make with our hands."

He lays a heavy hand on Randheer's shoulder, a support against his crumbling principles.

"And with these hands of mine I shall make you a king."

**
CSR's claims on God's will are his own and no disrespect is intended at anyone's religious sentiments.

Anzaar is the official ship for Anwar and Rukzaar captained by HRH Amrit Veer Pratap Singh. 😂

The tone of this chapter may look a little confusing to you, mostly because I have not revealed what Randheer learned when he questioned RM and CSR. I did that one, to build suspense- two, we will know along with Veer when he learns the truth. Who wants to follow R anyway?

The pic above came into my possession thanks to __Nupur__
And it made me laugh to think of our two princes in one frame somewhere - somehow. Thanks again Nupz, the pic was well used I feel - in this chapter where we have a lot of AnVeer Friendship.

See you again soon, if you reached here - please do vote before you leave.

Thank you and much love!