THE COURTESAN OF JAIGARH (Complete)

Part 21-An Offer

A YEAR LATER

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Rajyavardhan looked out of the window of his chamber. A panorama of verdant green met his eyes. He could glimpse the spires of temples and the tops of the buildings in the capital of Sinhala Dweepa. The streets were busy with men and women going about their business. It was indeed, a rich little island. He had been cooling his heels off here for the last one year. Trade with Jaigarh had increased, but so had his frustration. What in the name of the almighty was he doing here? He was as redundant as a fifth wheel in a bullock cart. Even the charms of the beautiful, dusky island women had started to wane. He was hankering for the bright hot days of Jaigarh.

Rajyavardhan let out a pent-up sigh of dissatisfaction. He had sent word to the king. He would ask for his leave to travel back to Jaigarh. A ship was sailing from the harbor within a couple of days and he meant to be on it. He hadn't forgotten his ambitions. The throne was, by rights, his, and he wouldn't rest till he wrested it from his brother. He had to make alliances, gather an army, and plan a coup. That would take years. He wasn't getting any younger. If he did not act now, it would be too late. That nephew of his was almost eighteen by now, and cunning as a fox. He had to remove the father-son duo from his path to reach the throne.

He clapped for his men. He had a good-sized stash of precious gemstones and rare spices with which he planned to pay his way. A coup did not come free.

"See that my trunks are loaded onto the ship. Every last one of them, or I'll see you cut up and fed to the fish at the bottom of the sea."

The servants ran to do his bidding and he rubbed his hands in anticipation. None in the court of Jaigarh should know that he had returned. He would have to live incognito, till he attained his purpose.

The palace at Reshamgarh was shrouded under a pall of gloom. Somdutt sat beside his ailing wife, holding her hand. Priyadarshini knelt by her mother's side, weeping as the queen groaned with pain.

"Promise me that you'll take care of our daughter after me," whispered Queen Padma Devi to her husband.

"Don't say that," Somdutt chided gently. "The vaidya is mixing an excellent concoction of herbs. You'll be fit in no time."

"Don't lie to me, my lord. I know that my time is near. I'm only worried about my little girl. Marry her off to a good man, who will love her as you love me."

"I promise you, my beloved," reassured Somdutt, placing a kiss on her clammy forehead. "I'll find the best groom in the land for our little princess. You needn't be anxious about that."

Padma Devi closed her eyes at that. She trusted her husband's word. He was a good man. A man of honor. He would keep his word and search out the finest prince in the land. She would rest easy that night.

Hassan handed the keys to the shop to his brother. The young lad had been a quick learner. He could now make as good a deal as Hassan himself. He planned to leave for foreign lands on the morrow. He would carry his lapis lazuli and trade it for spices and other items of worth. The camels were ready and so was his horse.

"Will you not change your mind, my dear?" Miriam pleaded, wiping a tear from her eye.

"I have made up my mind, Mother," he said, sitting down on the carpet and starting to eat his dinner.

"I have promised Rashid that you will reconsider his proposal," Miriam said hopefully.

"Forget anything like that. I'm not marrying his daughter. Tell him to find some other fool," Hassan barked in annoyance. Everyone knew that Rashid's daughter was a dimwit. He had been luring Miriam with his promise of a good settlement, but Hassan wasn't interested in his wealth. His own business had picked up so that they were in huge profits. This tour of the far-off lands might bring windfall gains. He had no need of Rashid's wealth.

Miriam made a face, grumbling under her breath about disobedient sons.

Hassan hid a smile at his mother's ill humor. The fact was, even if Rashid had the most beautiful daughter, he wasn't interested in marrying again. He still missed Salima. His love for her had not abated. There wasn't a day when he did not think of her. He could not contemplate another woman taking her place in his heart.

The next morning dawned bright and clear. Hassan was dressed in warm clothes, his headdress in place. He packed his things on the two camels and handed the reins to his servant. His horse was groomed and fed, ready to go. He bid a teary farewell to his family, gave some last-minute instructions to his brother, then mounted his horse.

"Hurr...." the servant led the camels and the little party was on its way.

Madhulika received the letter from the messenger with some reservations. He had come all the way from a far-off land to deliver the missive to her. She waved him away and sat down to read it, her curiosity stopping her from tearing it up into pieces and throwing it out of the window. It was from that rogue Rajyavardhan who had disappeared after promising her so much. His promises had proved to be just empty words. She was yet to receive her mansion, let alone the post of chief courtesan. Where was he, by the way? He had been ready to demand his throne from his brother, but the next she knew, he had set sail for some far-off kingdom, leaving her at the mercy of Menaka and her ilk.

Here she was, watching that good-for-nothing girl, becoming the favorite of the prince. That girl was a thorn in her flesh. Madhulika hated any woman who was more beautiful than her. Neelanjana, with her splendid blue eyes, svelte figure, and flowing dark locks, was unbearable. She had grace and had perfected the arts within a short time. She was in great demand, with men drooling at the prospect of bedding her, but she belonged to Harshvardhan, and so remained out of reach, becoming more alluring.

Madhulika glanced at the letter again. Rajyavardhan had asked her to meet him at a place outside the city, a fortnight from the next new moon. By that time he would be back, he said, and had something of import to discuss with her. She would be there, she decided. As it was, nothing was changing in her life.

It wouldn't hurt her to see what he had to say. Maybe, they could still hatch a successful plan.

Valli sat on her bed, tears falling unchecked from her eyes. Her shoulders were slumped with the weight of her grief. Her friends were sitting with her, trying to bring some comfort to the girl, but she was inconsolable.

"Why would Menaka decide to do something like that?" Neelanjana asked no one in particular.

Lakshmi shrugged her shoulders, rolling her eyes.

"Greed, I guess," she said.

"But how horrible for Valli," Neelanjana commented.

An old and filthy rich merchant had offered to buy Valli as his bed slave. He was ready to pay any price for her. Menaka had promised to send the girl to him, in return for a handsome amount. The girls were against it, but there was no reasoning with the older woman.

"Have you told Dhruva?" asked Neelanjana.

She shook her head. What was the use of it? Dhruva had problems of his own. He was being sent to the northernmost outpost for sentry duty. A new road had been built and a troop would be stationed there.

"What can he do?" Valli sniffled.

"You could go with him...." suggested Neelanjana.

"Of course. That way you'll be away from here. We'll help you with it," said, Lakshmi, squeezing her hand.

Valli hugged her friends. Could she do that? Run away with Dhruva? What if she was found and brought back?