THE COURTESAN OF JAIGARH (Complete)

Part 4-Dhruva

 Dhruva found her sitting on the steps, forlorn and sobbing. He looked around himself, then placed a comforting hand on her shoulder.

"What's the matter, Neelu?" he asked. "Care to tell me?"

She turned to him, hiding her face in his chest, and weeping helplessly. Hiccups racked her slender body, her grief and terror too big to find words. Since the night of the fair, she hadn't received a gentle touch, only the unbridled passion of men who left bruises on her fair skin, uncaring of the pain they inflicted on her.

Now, Dhruva's arms seemed like a haven of tenderness. She sighed with heartfelt regret for what might have been. She wished that they had consummated their passion that night, that he had been the first to breach her maidenhood. Now, she would never know what pleasure felt like.

When the storm of weeping subsided a little, she told him of her predicament. He swore violently under his breath.

"The old man would have to pay for this," he said with heated feelings.

"Don't do anything foolish, please," she pleaded. "Just tell me what to do."

She had no means of knowing which of the men had caused her to be with child. Anyway, what would she do with one? It was difficult for her to survive, let alone raise a child.

"I'll see what I can do," Dhruva promised, leaving her with a faint hope.

It was unusually cold the next day. Winter was still a month away, but a strong wind blew from the snowy, northern mountains, bringing bone-chilling weather. Neelanjana dressed in the thickest robe she could find then pulled her scratchy blanket around her shoulders.

The sun was just out from behind the clouds when the trio left the tavern. They walked through the neighborhood, with people staring strangely at her. Most of them had an inkling of what she did. Scandals traveled like jungle fire.

They walked through the narrow lanes and by-lanes, till they reached another part of the city. Houses huddled together on the narrow street, little more than shanties. Shouting children played, chickens pecked the dust and dogs slept in the alleyways.

"Mind where you're going," a man warned as he passed by on his donkey, missing them by a hair's breadth.

Swearing, the old man came to a stop in front of a wooden door. He knocked, then waited, till it was opened by a wizened old woman. She was bent with age, her skin like parchment, and her gray hair frizzled. She was wearing a faded skirt with an oversized tunic. Silver bangles and anklets adorned her, while tattoos marked her face and arms.

"Greetings, sister," the old man spoke with more respect than Neelanjana had ever heard him use.

She led them inside the small tenement, into a room filled with all kinds of strange things, from feathers to pots, snake skins, deadly-looking bear claws, vials of oily liquids, and sundry more items that Neelanjana could not name.

She sat with Dhruva on the mat, while the old man conversed with the woman in hushed tones. All the while, she shook her head, as if she did not like what she heard.

The old man came back a moment later. Neelanjana waited with a fearful heart. What was to come next?

"Go with her," he ordered, then sat down to smoke a pipe.

The woman ushered her into an inner room, lighted with a single lamp.

"How far gone are you?" the woman asked in a kindly tone.

She told her, feeling shy in the extreme.

"Don't you wish to let the father know? He might decide to marry you," she suggested.

She hesitated a moment, then decided to tell her.

"I don't know..... who.... the father is. There have been.... so many men," she stammered.

The woman nodded and grimaced.

"So, it's like that, is it? Your master has been making money out of you." It wasn't a question, but a statement.

The woman picked up one of the vials lining the shelves, measured a quantity in a bowl, and handed it to her.

"Here, drink this, child, then lie down for a while," she pointed to the tattered mat on the floor.

The medicine made her feel queasy and hurt her belly. Neelanjana lay still, trying not to cry out with the pain. She did not notice how much time passed as a haze of pain blurred her brain. The only sound was that of a heated argument between the woman and the old man.

It was sometime later that she felt a wetness between her legs. She sat up in a panic and watched blood pool there. A cry of terror escaped her lips.

The old woman rushed into the room, nodded with satisfaction, and then handed her clean cloths.

"It's alright, child. You'll feel better in a day or two," she said, then handed her another vial.

"Drink this every time you lie with a man," she advised, then ushered her out.

The motley trio made their way back to the tavern. For once, she was sent to her room to rest and was thankful for the respite.

Since that day, she made sure to take her medicine whenever she had to sleep with a man. Within a span of the next two years, countless men enjoyed her body, but none gave her any enjoyment. She suffered her lot, taking it to be her destiny. Where else could she go? She knew no one outside the tavern. She wasn't allowed to go out alone. Always, the old man accompanied her.

One fine day, Dhruva had a nasty quarrel with his father, packed his things, and left to enlist in the army. She knew that he had been hurt badly by his father's behavior. He had truly liked her, maybe loved her a little. Given time, their love could have blossomed into something beautiful, but he was disgusted by what his father made her do night after night.

A war was imminent with the neighboring kingdom of Reshamgarh, and young men were eager to join the king's forces. The crown prince of Jaigharh was known to be a bloodthirsty lad. Though quite young, the tales of his valor were already making the rounds. What was he really like, Neelanjana wondered as she eavesdropped on the men discussing the war.