THE COURTESAN OF JAIGARH (Complete)

Part 27-An Announcement

SEVEN YEARS LATER

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Neelanjana fanned herself with the palm leaf fan. She was reclining on the couch, praying for a cool breeze to stir the sultry air. Summer was at its peak, but at least, in this new mansion of hers, fountains spewed out cool water, a luxury in this climate.

The years had passed by, and she was now the chief courtesan of Jaigarh. She was a young girl no longer but a woman of five and twenty, although she was as beautiful as ever. Her body had ripened with time, and her beauty matured into an attraction hard to resist. Harshvardhan was as attracted to her as before, though the constant wars with Reshamgarh kept him away from her bed most of the time.

Her mind went over the events of the past few years. She still remembered the disillusionment she had felt when Harshvardhan had declared that he loved no woman. Her heart had broken into pieces, the pain almost physical. She had languished in melancholy for months, till realizing that what she wanted wasn't possible. They weren't meant for each other, at least not as lovers professing undying love. She was a courtesan, and he was her patron. There wasn't anything more between them.

With hindsight, she could understand her feelings. She had been young and impressionable. He had rescued her from a living hell, and she had mistaken her gratitude for stronger feelings. Of course, she enjoyed making love with him, for he was caring of her needs, and capable of satisfying her as no man had done before him. That about summed up her relationship with the prince.

Of one thing she had been most thankful. He had been steadfast in his patronage of her. She recalled the time when she had lived at Menaka's mansion. She hadn't ever imagined even in her dreams that one day she would be the chief courtesan of Jaigarh, with fame and fortune following her.

The events that led up to her becoming the chief courtesan hadn't been less dramatic. For some time, Madhulika had been busy coming and going at all odd hours. She had been secretive and annoying, even more than before, till one day, she left, dressed in her best attire, jewels sparkling on her body, and a purpose in her step. Sadly, that was the last anyone had seen of her.

It was months later, that the truth had been revealed. Harshvardhan's friend Prithviraj had arranged a private dance performance for the two of them. Madhulika had been invited to be the sole dancer. It was rumored that she had used her wiles on Prithviraj, till he had consented. During the performance, she had sidled over to the prince, bent over him in a seductive pose, and out of the blue, struck at his chest with a dagger hidden beneath her veil. Her murderous attempt had misfired, though. She had missed his heart and the dagger had only grazed his shoulder. She had been immediately overpowered and thrown into the dungeon for daring to murder Prince Harshvardhan. Some said that she had been later executed, while others told of her being incarcerated still, having gone raving mad.

Getting up now, her movements languid, she picked up the chalice of wine and took a sip to moisten her parched throat. She ambled over to the window seat and sat down to watch the sunset. The sky had turned crimson, promising to bring another, clear, star-studded night. Neelanjana let out a deep sigh. Another day spent moping around the house. Though she had numerous maids and servants, loneliness was the bane of her life. What was there for her to do, than wait for the prince to arrive, spend a few moments in her bed, and then leave her bereft? Sadly, she had no friends now.

Neelanjana's mind went back to the summer four years ago. How tragic had that time been! Lakshmi, delicate and thin since birth, had caught a virulent ague. Her body had burned with the fever for days. Menaka had been out of her mind with worry. The vaidya had tried every remedy under the sun, that he knew of, but to no avail. They had tiptoed around the house, lest they disturb her delirious sleep. The fever hadn't broken and she had become progressively weaker, till she was no more than a bag of bones. On the eleventh day, Lakshmi had passed away in the morning, leaving them grief-stricken. Neelanjana had mourned the loss of a good friend and confidante.

In effect, she had lost both her friends, Valli to exile and Lakshmi to death. Menaka had fallen into a deep sorrow, her bereavement too great to contemplate. At the end of the day, what was a courtesan left with? She had been fortunate to have a daughter whom she had loved in her own way, but the cruel hands of Fate had snatched her abruptly. Menaka was left with an empty house and the baubles she had amassed in her profession. Neelanjana had tried to lessen the grief of the older woman, but she had sunk into deep melancholy.

One fine day, Menaka had joined a band of wandering monks and left to lead a life of prayers and penitence. She had given up the silks and jewels and donned the robes of a mendicant. After her departure, Neelanjana had hated every moment spent in Menaka's mansion and had said so to Harshvardhan. She had been pleasantly surprised when, within two days, he had sent a palanquin for her. Expecting to go to the palace to entertain him, the palanquin had entered the gates of a strange mansion. She had wondered at the grandeur of the building made of pink sandstone and marble, its arched gateways and wide lawns pleasing to the eyes. A pool of crystal water had greeted her eye, tiny fish daring in it. The air had been echoing with the sound of tinkling water from the artistically designed fountains.

Who lived here, she had wondered, till the prince had walked out of the door.

"Welcome, dear, to your new home," he had said with a wide smile, holding her hand and gently drawing her inside.

Neelanjana had been stunned. This mansion was more luxurious than any she had seen before, and it was for her. It could vie with the houses of the richest residents of Jaigarh. She had taken a tour of the house and been delighted at the tastefully decorated chambers, her own depicting murals of lovers in various poses that heated her cheeks up. She had thanked Harshvardhan in her own way, which had left him shuddering with bliss.

Since that day, it had been her home, and she was proud of it. She had everything in life, a grand mansion, riches, and the rank of chief courtesan. She couldn't have asked for more, but the only dark lining in her sky was the lack of love in her life. It pained her to see life passing by. One day, she too, would be left with little, like Menaka. What would she do that day? These thoughts brought a frown to her otherwise smooth forehead.

Thus, engaged in her thoughts, she was woken from her reverie by the maid.

"There's someone to see you, milady," she announced.

"Who?" Neelanjana was puzzled. She never saw other men, for the prince was very possessive of her. He was her only lover and it had been so since the day he had rescued her.

At that moment, a man sauntered in, his stance full of insouciance.

"You?" she exclaimed. Prithviraj was Harshvardhan's childhood friend. He was also someone who had an eye on her, trying to entice her into a secret liaison. She had always held him in derision, though, disliking the prospect of betraying the prince's trust.

"Yes, my dear, Neelu. Won't you ask me to sit?"

"Just state your purpose and leave. I'm not in the mood to entertain anyone," she said dryly.

"Well, you may have to rethink that shortly. After all, you'll be in need of new patrons soon," he said, with a taunting grin.

"Something seems to please you too much. Why don't you come out with the news?" she asked, trying not to show him how much his words had disturbed her. What was he hinting at?

"Thank me later for the news, my dear. I thought you should be the first to know."

"Know what? Don't play with words...."

"Harshvardhan is getting married to the Princess of Reshamgarh," he let the words drop like a poison-dipped dagger.