Chapter 6: Kastha's Keep

In which Timir and Dwara find themselves in a lord's company.

May 25, 2026

Kastha’s place hadn’t needed building. He had made a home for himself inside one of the few ruins in Yamuk that were still more or less whole. Timir could tell it had been something akin to a granery back when Daityas still walked the world, but the town’s lord had accorded it the status of a fortress by lining its ledges with armed guards and the space around it with stables full of lizards and horses. Together with the unnecessarily tall gates and the lookout towers, it was an imposing sight quite becoming someone who wished to be seen as the rightful ruler of a town in the middle of nowhere.

The men who had been sent to bring Timir to this place had intended to make a spectacle out of his arrest. However, things hadn’t gone their way and now Timir and Dwara were seated atop the white lizard Kastha’s men had ridden in on, chatting away cheerfully and waving to the people of Yamuk as the tall keep came into view. The large lizard was saddled for five riders, but the three remaining arresting officers had chosen to walk instead, adding to the general impression that Timir and Dwara were their master’s honoured guests.

When the lizard stopped in the middle of Kastha’s compound, Timir grabbed his sword and jumped off immediately. He then wordlessly directed the men following them to help Dwara down and watched them do it with the utmost care and respect.

“Why did you ask me to come with you?” Dwara whispered at him. “I have never been here before. I know nothing.”

“You know more than I do,” Timir replied. “And for some reason, the men who came for us don’t wish to speak to me. I must have done something to offend them.”

When Dwara chuckled, Timir said, “It hurts when you laugh at my lack of social graces Dwara. You shouldn’t be so cruel.”

This time, Dwara laughed loud enough to turn heads. One of the heads she turned belonged to a woman in red and black standing by the keep’s gate. She turned and stared at them until one of the men ran up to her and spoke while gesticulating wildly and pointing towards Timir.

“The lady over there seems like she could help us. Do you know her?”

“Only that she is too well-dressed to be anything other than one of Lord Kastha’s wives.”

“How sweet! Let’s go meet the lady of the house. Perhaps she can help us.”

“Help you with what exactly?”

“Same as before. A comfortable bed in a quiet room. You interrupted my sleep, remember?”

“You… You are mad! You’re going to ask Lord Kastha’s wife for a room to…” Dwara managed to blurt out before Timir dragged her away.

“If I could have the lady’s attention,” Timir bellowed, causing the men around her to turn and block his way. “I have travelled for long and am looking for a soft bed to sleep in. The townsfolk have told me of Lord Kastha’s generosity. Am I a fool for believing them?”

The lady quietly turned and disappeared into the keep. One of the guards pointed a spear at Timir, but hesitated when Timir grinned in response. Dwara was half-heartedly trying to pull Timir away from the gate when a cold, booming voice sounded from within.

“Trivikram, bring them to me.”

“Was that Lord Kastha’s voice?” Timir asked, looking from one guard to the other in mock elation. “I can tell he is a most kind man.”

The guards however denied him the looks of disgust he was expecting. They were smiling now.

“Enough, Timir. We should leave now,” Dwara said urgently, trying hard to keep worry from showing. “I know this Trivikram. You don’t want to…”

The man who came through the gate the very next moment was a revelation to Timir. He had never met anyone a head taller than himself, or broader by half a hand. There was something else too - an unnatural power about his presence, that made the hairs on the back of Timir’s neck stand.

“Come with me,” said the giant called Trivikram.

“No,” Dwara tugged at Timir’s sleeve.

Timir turned to find Dwara’s face pale. Unbidden, his face betrayed a softness. When she noticed the change however, he stepped back into the transparent farce he was putting on for the benefit of Kastha’s men.

“WHAT! You will have me reject Lord Kastha’s invitation, so graciously extended?”

“You don’t understand,” Dwara said, tearing up as she fought to keep her voice down. “He took my brothers away. I lost everything to him.”

Timir let go of Dwara’s hand and stared at her, taking in her fear and disgust at the man in whose shadow they stood. He then spoke to her, gentle as a breeze, “If you think yourself unsafe with me, you may leave now and I will not stop you. But if you choose to enter this place with me, I will let you watch me end him.”

Dwara found she did not doubt Timir, and took a deep breath before meeting Trivikram’s cruel gaze. She walked then, alongside Koru’s vessel, as he entered Kastha’s keep making unseemly jokes about the smell of the place.

After she had gotten over herself, and when they had passed the second and third daitya-made gates, she realised there was a strange smell to the place. Nothing pungent, just an overpowering aroma wafting over from all around.

“It’s the walls,” Timir said. “They’re smeared with it.”

“What is it?”

“Purple Prajapati. The essence of it anyway. It’s a flower that… It is used to wake the unconscious. The smell drives sleep away, can keep you awake for weeks.”

“But why?”

“My guess? Your Lord Kastha needs his men awake at all hours. He must not employ too many here. The ones he does, have to watch him at all hours. I almost feel bad for our friend Trivikram here. No wonder he doesn’t laugh at my jokes - he’s had no sleep.”

After a good deal more walking through halls that were actually only corridors built by daitya hands, they reached what was the middle of the tower - a vast space within the keep’s walls able to contain the entire compound downstairs but presently occupied only by a golden throne draped in silks and ornaments too large for any man or woman. The walls were covered with weapons - swords and bows and axes seemingly made of glass and held together by threads of light. Their limited glow illuminated the small man sitting on the throne, made smaller still by all that surrounded him.

“Look Dwara. It seems our host is a hoarder,” Timir said.