THE COURTESAN OF JAIGARH (Complete)

Part 30-The Meeting

It was still early when the camp woke up. There was hurried activity among the travelers, with a meal being prepared and the servants busy with packing up the tents. Hassan too, washed and dressed for the journey ahead. They had to start at the first light of dawn for the way was long and soon the sun would shine in all its fierceness.

Within a quarter of an hour, his camels were ready. He took the reins of his horse, his trusted companion on his travels across the world, and started on the long trek to Jaigarh.

Hours later, weary and thirsty, he spotted the impressive city gates of the kingdom. His heart beat with excitement as he neared the city. At last, he was here. He had heard so much about Jaigarh from his fellow travelers, that he was eager to see for himself if what they said was true.

The city gates led him to a world he had scarcely imagined. Hassan watched in wonder at the well-paved streets, the grand buildings, and the buzzing marketplace. The setting sun had washed the vista before him with its red glow, highlighting the pink sandstone palaces and the marble columns leading to them.

Hassan compared it with the small mountain settlement from whence he came and smiled to himself. It really was everything the men had described. He led his horse toward the busy market. Numerous shops lined the narrow and dusty streets, their frontage displaying varied goods. The air was heavy with the scent of spices and vetiver. Fascinated, he noted the beaten copper vessels, the cloth colored with a medley of vegetable dyes, the bangles arrayed in all the colors of the rainbow, the mounds of aromatic spices, and sundry other things. Vendors called out their goods and the buyers haggled over the prices. The sights and sounds hit his senses, making them stir.

Hassan put a hand to his forehead and wiped the sweat. The heat, even at sunset, was enervating. He wasn't used to it. A man of the mountains, he preferred the cool breezes that blew in his native land, laden with the scent of pine. His land was beautiful in its own way too, with wildflowers scattered on the hills in the short, warm summers and the pristine snow cladding them during the long, hard winters. He took a deep breath, then started once again.

His throat felt parched by the long ride through the scrub and barren countryside. He longed for the cool yogurt drink that his mother made in the summers, but that seemed impossible at the moment. It would be enough if he was offered water here, among strangers. His horse too was foaming at the mouth. He got down and patted the beast lovingly, leading him by the reins. Hassan urgently needed to water him.

Thus, tired and thirsty, he stood for a moment, searching for a friendly face he could ask for directions when a stranger hailed him. Hassan turned to find a man beside him, realizing on a closer look that he was hardly more than a boy.

"You seem a stranger to this land..." the boy commented, glancing at his unfamiliar robes and headdress.

He nodded, then decided to ask him where he could find a place for himself and his horse. His camels were stationed outside the city gates with the servants.

"See there, that's my mistress," the boy said, pointing to a woman who stood some distance away. "My lady invites you to partake of our hospitality for a while."

The invitation sounded heaven-sent. Curious as to the kindness shown to him by a stranger, he raised his gaze to look at the woman, then felt his breath catch in his throat. Surely, he was seeing things, or he had died and gone to heaven among angels? His eyes widened as he took in the exquisite beauty of the woman in front of him.

Dark, glossy hair, piled atop her head in a stylish coif, with stray tendrils lying against her rosy cheeks, allured the onlooker. Perfectly chiseled features, and the most striking of all, her vibrant blue eyes, which reminded him of his lapis lazuli. His glance traveled down, taking in her alabaster neck and shoulders, then the breasts, beckoning him like the ripened fruit of a tree, her shapely waist and long legs clad in the sheerest of robes, that enticed with just a faint glimpse of the flesh beneath. Hassan's heart raced as never before, his gaze mesmerized by so much gorgeousness in one person. Was she a pagan goddess, for no ordinary woman had the right to look like this, surely?

Of his own volition, he felt his feet following the servant boy. The trio made its way down the maze of streets, till they reached a broad tree-lined avenue. Palaces and mansions stood on both sides, the likes of which he had never even dreamed possible. The servant stopped outside a sprawling mansion, calling out to the gateman. The gates opened and they entered into a driveway meant for horses and carriages. The grounds were well laid out with a small pool of water within which colorful fish darted and water lilies bloomed. The building itself was made of pink sandstone like all others, its architecture on a grand scale with a high domed ceiling and arched doorways.

Once they reached the main doorway, the woman turned to him with a smile that made his knees shake. "You can hand over your horse to my boy here," she said. "He will make sure to give it a drink and a rubbing."

Her melodious voice rang in his ears. Dumbly, he nodded, surrendering the reins to the servant boy, then followed behind the woman. The coolness of the hall was in sharp contrast to the heat outside. Hassan felt a sigh of relief leave him. They entered into another room, where the white marble floor was spread with carpets and cushions. The walls were decorated with murals and statues adorned the corners in a lavish display.

"Please take a seat," she gestured to the cushions, sinking down on one.

Hassan sat down, his eyes still taking in the grandeur of his surroundings. She clapped and a servant appeared with cool sherbets.

Hassan accepted the glass with a word of thanks, taking a sip of the sweet saffron-flavored drink. The liquid slid down his parched throat like nectar, and he sighed in pleasure.

Covertly, he glanced at the woman seated before him. She sipped the drink and then licked her lips, her tongue darting quickly over the pink, petal-like lips. Hassan's senses stirred, a long-forgotten feeling of longing assailing him. It had been years since he had felt anything for a woman. Salima, with her dancing eyes and smiling face, seemed but a faint memory. That love had been many lifetimes ago, he mused, while this woman was present here, at this very moment, with her alluring beauty and her gentle ways. What had prompted her to single him out in the marketplace and invite him here?

"Good manners dictate that we introduce ourselves," she spoke at length. "I'm Neelanjana, the chief courtesan of Jaigarh."

Hassan mumbled his name in return, his mind going back to the conversation with his fellow merchant. The man hadn't been exaggerating. She was all that he had said and more. Those words, in fact, had been unable to fully describe her ethereal beauty. But what stood out in his mind the most was why she had chosen to show him this kindness. He thought of asking her as much, then changed his mind and decided to enjoy the wonder of the moment.

She asked him the purpose of his visit to Jaigarh and he showed her the gems kept in his silken pouch.

"Oh Lord!" she exclaimed. "These are stunning. They must be rare," she commented, her curiosity ignited. She had seen many jewels in her time, but these were unusual.

"Yes, my lady. These are from the mines deep in the mountains. My town abounds in them. They are, each one of them, priceless," he told her with pride.

She picked up one, from where it was lying on a bed of silk, turning it to the light. Hassan noticed that the blue of her eyes vied with the brilliance of the stone. He personally preferred the eyes, he thought with a tiny smile. She raised her long lashes and looked at him. Was that the same admiration in her eyes, as in his? The thought was exhilarating, making him light-headed.

Pulling himself together, he decided to make a move. Soon it would be night and he had to find a place for himself and his horse.

"I should go now, my lady," he said, after thanking her for the drink. "I need to look for a place to spend the night."

Dismay marred her face as if the very thought of parting from him was unbearable to her.

"Why don't you stay the night here?" she asked breathlessly, an entreaty in her gaze.