Samsāra

Chapter Twenty-six

Bhalla saw Lavan edge his way towards Ajiona and halted in his tracks, his smile melting off. He felt the anger and fear that had become his companion ever since the princes arrived. They whispered seductively to him, weaving sweet words of rage into his mind. The Yuvaraju deserved death, his back should be broken like a donkey with too much load, hacked to pieces while still alive, his eyes gouged out and fed to the dogs. They fed on his visualisation, building until all rational thought vanished and what remained was the lust for Lavan’s blood. Every muscle, every nerve, every tendon bulged and pulsed with rage and bloodlust. In a way, he was like the bull he had just conquered. So consumed by rage, only one path was left open to him.

Ajiona wouldn’t like that, a little voice whispered at the back of his mind. It was tiny, almost lost in the fog of his dark emotions but it was enough to make him pause. Ajiona wouldn’t like that! The words echoed in his head, bouncing along, rattling in his skull until images rose unbidden: Ajiona smiling, her laughing, and her mouth moving down rapidly and all at once he was looking at himself with the blood of Lavan wetting his hands and Ajiona kneeling by the dying Yuvaraju’s side, looking up at him with loathing.

Bhalla stumbled backwards and the haze of rage and lust lifted, leaving him oddly drained and sad while a small part of him mused on the strange influence Ajiona has on him.

Bheema sidled up to his side. The victors were going to a pleasure house, he told Bhalla, the losers were going to pay for their pleasure, was Bhalla interested?

Bhalla did not answer for a moment, he was still staring at Ajiona and Lavan. They were engrossed in their talk that Bhalla wondered if they could feel the burning intensity of his gaze. Far from the gloomy girl he had seen this morning, Ajiona was animated and she was smiling widely at Lavan. Bhalla felt his heart sink at the same time his anger rose. It was the same smile she gave him, a smile that seemed to tell Bhalla there was no one else as interesting as him. His hands clenched into fists as jealousy and anger burned through him.

He wanted to pound Lavan to dust, killing him wouldn't be satisfactory at all, he wanted to destroy him. Closing his eyes, he inhaled calming breaths and remembered what Bheema had said. Why not? He thought. Why not get drunk and fool around with the devadasis? Maybe they'll cool this hot feeling in him.

But as he turned to leave with Bheema, he looked back one last time to see if she noticed him leaving but she was laughing at what Lavan said.

*
Her eyes are as green as those jades from Cina, Lavan thought, and earnest. She isn't an empty headed beauty. His eyes roved her body and came up to her face, lingering on her moving mouth. He could see why Yuvaraju Bhallaladeva was so smitten with her. He hadn't missed the heated glances the Prince had shot his way. Perhaps mother would be interested in knowing that, he mused.

Maharani Snigdha had asked him to gather information about Ajiona. Her actual words were: ‘befriend her, your charms cannot fail on her; I want to know all about her.’ And Yuvaraju Lavan was nothing more than a slave to his stepmother. He has been in love with her all his life, she had been the first to show him kindness as a child; the bastard second son no one had any use for. Desperate for any kind of affection, he had latched onto Snigdha’s manipulative love. As a man, she had been the one to show him what it meant to love a woman and the only one he ever loved was Snigdha. His slavish devotion to her suited her needs properly and she used him to spy on her opponents.

Lavan was handsome and charismatic, two things that most of the times gave him a free pass with women, so it was easy to worm his way into Snigdha's enemies through their womenfolk and when he had a breakthrough, Snigdha stepped in to handle the rest.