THE COURTESAN OF JAIGARH (Complete)

Part 13-Meeting In The Night

 Neelanjana followed Valli on the path. Night had fallen and the stars were out. The moon was, at that moment, hidden behind a patch of clouds, playing hide and seek in the sky. A cool breeze blew, laden with the scent of night blooms. The only sound, apart from their footfall, was the chirping of crickets broken at intervals by the howling of jackals in the distance.

"How far is it?" Neelanjana whispered, though there was not a soul around save the two girls.

"Not far now," Valli answered, pulling her veil low over her face. Neelanjana followed suit.

They had been walking for the better part of an hour now. Neelanjana wondered how Valli picked up the courage to meet Dhruva on the other nights, traveling alone. She looked at her companion with new respect.

"Don't you get scared coming here alone?" Neelanjana asked her, unable to control her curiosity.

"Why? What's to harm me here? I'm not afraid of a few foxes or jackals," Valli offered dryly.

Neelanjana let out a sigh. "You're very brave, Valli. I won't have the same courage."

Valli looked at her, her gaze serious.

"It takes a lot more courage to enter a room where a man is waiting to ravish me. That's the worst kind of predator, Neelanjana. We have both faced them with fortitude. We're both brave, my friend."

Neelanjana couldn't help but agree with the truth of that statement. The terror she had felt that first night at the tavern, and later, for days, could not be compared with her fear tonight. She had always felt distaste, if not fear, with the other men, who followed, till she met Harshvardhan. He was vastly different from the others, in not being brutal or insensitive. He cared for her pleasure as much as his own. Maybe, he was just a good man, or she prayed hopefully, he had some feelings for her. Could she hope it was love?

Soon, the ancient temple was in sight, with a single lamp burning on the altar. A figure sat on the steps. He had covered most of his face with a thin blanket. The girls approached the figure, Valli calling out to him.

"Dhruva, look who's here," she said.

Dhruva stood up at that, throwing aside his blanket, his eyes shining with joy. Neelanjana ran to him, and he gathered her in a hug. He looked a lot different. He was a man now, full of confidence. His hair was cropped shorter, and he had grown a handsome mustache.

"Neelu! After so long. I was worried about you," he said, pulling her down on the steps beside him.

"Then why did you leave? And that too without saying goodbye?" Neelanjana had always wanted to ask him that but didn't expect to have that opportunity so soon.

"You know, Neelu, how difficult it was becoming to stay there and see your miserable fate. I had a showdown with the old man, and I knew then that I could no longer stay with him."

"You could at least have said goodbye," there was sadness in her voice, for what had gone before.

"Believe me, I wanted to, but I did not have the courage. I should have taken you with me, not left you at the mercy of that wicked man," he replied, and she could see repentance clearly in his eyes.

"Let's not regret what has already gone by," Valli interjected, linking their hands together.

"I think she is right," Dhruva noted, smiling at his beloved.

They talked late into the night, sharing their news, till it was time to go. Neelanjana waited while Valli and Dhruva bid a passionate farewell, then the girls made their way back to the mansion. The gatekeeper was asleep as usual, and they entered stealthily. Lakshmi met them at the door. She had been on the lookout, ready to warn them had the coast not been clear.

Later, lying in her bed at night, Neelanjana had mixed feelings about the meeting. She no longer felt attracted to Dhruva physically, as she had once, but she was glad that she had met him, and tied the loose ends of her past. She wished him well with Valli but had grave doubts about the fate of their love. What they were doing was dangerous. Valli was under Menaka's protection. She would hunt them down and have them punished for their temerity, if she came to know, which she would, sooner or later.

Salima picked up another tart berry and put it in her mouth, savoring the sour taste. Hassan watched with an indulgent smile as his wife stuffed her face with the goodies he had brought for her. Pickles, berries, and savory treats, whatever she wanted, he got for her. After all, she was going to give him his son or daughter, his flesh and blood, to carry on his family name. The very thought made him swell with pride.

How fortunate he was, Hassan thought, admiring Salima. She looked even more beautiful than before, her face glowing with good health. He drew her near, wiped the berry juice that had trickled down her chin, then bent his head to place his lips on hers. Her arms went round his neck and she returned kiss for kiss, opening her lips to deepen it.

After eons, they surfaced, gasping for breath. Hassan sat with his cheek against her.

"Have you thought of a name yet?" he asked, dreaming of tiny feet running around his house.

Salima shook her head.

"I'll think of a name when I hold the baby in my hands. I have to see if it takes after me or looks like a monkey like its father," she teased.

His fist struck her shoulder playfully, and they fell backward on the bed, laughing.

Back in Jaigarh, King Yashvardhan had just returned from a visit to neighboring Reshamgarh. He was impressed by the hospitality shown by King Somdutt and his family. Both his brothers, as well as his cousins had been there to welcome him. He had been given a most luxurious room and fed with delicacies. Courtesans had entertained him with song and dance. He had not been made to feel that he was really in the enemy's territory.

On the political front, they had sat and discussed the dispute which had existed for ages between both kingdoms. Yashvardhan found Somdutt to be wise and prudent. Both agreed that the war was wreaking havoc on the trade and business. The daily life of the citizens was disrupted. Taxes were rising to make good the losses suffered in war. This created discontent among the masses. Yashvardhan promised to speak to his son to maintain a permanent truce.

The king took off his headdress and handed it to the waiting servant. Sinking on the soft, down mattress, he had just picked up a glass of wine, when a group of ministers sought audience.

"What's the matter that you had to see me so urgently? I have returned this very moment," he said, his voice tinged with displeasure.

"Pardon us, Your Majesty, but your efforts have been for naught," they spoke in unison.

"What do you mean? Elaborate," he ordered.

"The prince carried out secret raids in the territory of Reshamgarh. His men destroyed villages, burnt the crops, and maimed their cattle. They even carried off the womenfolk for rapine," one of the ministers informed Yashvardhan.

The glass fell from the king's nerveless fingers. What had his son done? Now, once again the war would escalate between the neighbors. He sat with his head in his hand. What did they do now?