Samsāra

Chapter Eleven

The chariot hit a stone and jolted, inside the cushioned vehicle Sujit bounced and cursed. Earlier, they had hit a pothole and it had sent him crashing to the door. Would this journey ever end? He thought bitterly and when he remembered what brought him out into this god forsaken forest at this time of the night, his bitter thoughts became rancid with hate. The unexpected complications had ruined his plans, the princes were supposed to die that night, along with their dog Kattapa, their bodies rotting in the sewers and Mahishmathi would have been his. If not for that girl!

It was amavasya, the darkest night of the fortnight and the perfect time for him to undertake this journey. At the turn of the evening, Sujit had retired to his chambers on the excuse of an headache with instructions not to be disturbed. In the quiet solitude of his chambers, he had meditated for two muhurtas reminding himself of his goal and his reasons, keeping his anger where it belonged, his heart not his head. When the lamp burned low, it was time. He rubbed his skin with a mixture of coal and oil so he would blend perfectly into the shadows, a black dhoti and turban. He wore no weapon, his mind and body were sufficient and it was not wise to bring a knife into the presence of Kali ma, she would take offense and it won't go well for that unfortunate person.

Certain his body was as black as the moonless night, he brought a key out from a small sandalwood box with an intricate lock. The key was small, rectangular and flat, three sides were smooth but one had a serrated edge, this he took to a wall bracket where an unlit torch hung, grasping the metal he turned it almost 360 degrees and pushed, it slid an inch revealing the slit for the key. Sujit inserted the key and pushed, he felt the click as they connected and pulled out the key. A low rumble was all the sound that came as a panel of the wall slid open smoothly. Sujit stepped into the darkness, the panel slid shut with a dull thud sealing him in darkness. He let his familiarity with the place guide him. He had travelled through the secret way a thousand times since boyhood, most times without the aid of a guiding lamp, the path to take had been permanently seared into his brain.

It was hot and musty in here and sweat soon beaded his body but he paid no mind to his discomfort. The secret way led down to the series of tunnels under his home and the branch he took led to a small cave right outside the city gates where his man would be waiting with the chariot.

When Sujit surfaced he was perspiring heavily and the blast of cool wind that hit him was heaven sent. He heard a quick shuffling of feet bring someone close to him.

'Prabhu,' someone whispered urgently. He recognised the voice of Menon, the thug he had rescued from a stint in the stinking bowels of Mahishmathi jail.

'How late am I?' he asked moving towards the voice.

'Right on time Prabhu, the incense stick hasn't finished burning. This chariot is this way Prabhu.'

Sujit followed the sound of his footsteps. Up in the southern sentry towers sharp eyed guards with tensed weapons patrolled keeping an eye out for any suspicious activities but they saw nothing of the two painted men that stole quickly into the forest.

The horse was tethered to a nagara tree, it nickered anxiously as it sensed the two strange beings drawing closer to him but soon calmed under the familiar touch of its master. Sujit climbed into the chariot as Menon untied the horse. Closing his eyes, he sunk into his seat and began mediating again but this time his peace was marred by the anger towards the strange girl that ruined his plans.

The kalakeya forest was layered like an onion, peeling one layer back to reveal the next with the dreaded Kali ma's lair right at the centre a place even the most blood thirsty bandits that prowled the forests were frightened to step into, even the Rajamata was scared of her but she hid her fear under a mask of indifference and as long as she didn't bother Kali ma, the sorceress left her and her beloved Mahishmathi alone. But not everyone was scared to approach; Sujit's father had visited the dark woman for help from time to time and on one occasion taking Sujit along. He remembered being scared of the black woman that looked like a rakshasa in the semi gloom of her hut and even more frightened of the ghostly hiss that came out from the withered looking banyan tree right in front of her hut. When his father was murdered and the honour of his family besmirched, he had come back to her for help and she had given it to him, for a price. When he finally got what he wanted, he would slake her thirst with the blood of thousands. Still she asked for a price whenever he went to her; sometimes it was a question, sometimes a taste of his blood, other times she stared silently at him until he was squirming with discomfort. He idly wondered what it would be this time around.

They had travelled about three yojanas now and by Sujit's estimation it was about seven muhurtas into the night. His meeting with Kali ma never lasted long, it wrapped up under five minutes even though it seemed as though hours had gone by. It unnerved him.

He knew they had arrived when the chariot slowed to a halt. Sujit got out. Kali ma's hut sat in a ring of skeletal like trees with lanterns hanging from their bone white branches illuminating the grove. Along with the lanterns, dead animals, skulls, numerous symbols of the dark arts, knives smeared with dried blood and other sacrifices to the countless negative forces that Kali ma worshipped with rituals consisting of human sacrifices and tantric sex and other perverse acts. Sujit always felt tainted by his visits and often spent hours washing off the stain from his body.

As usual, she was waiting for him at the door of her hut. Menon stayed behind with the horse and chariot, he didn't want to introduce the enthusiastic boy to the dark world that went on in her hut. Despite knowing her since he was a boy, Kali ma remained the same, tall and slender with a lovely countenance wearing only an antariya that barely covered the appropriate places, a garland of skulls hung around her neck, on her forehead was a red tilak not from vermilion paste but blood. Idly, Sujit wondered how old she was. She didn't greet him with a mocking smile and bow as she always did.

'You have to kill her,' she said flatly.

Sujit bowed to touch her feet, fighting a shudder of revulsion as he touched cold clammy skin.

'She is an hindrance, if you fail to kill her before four years lapse, your plans will fall to ruins and you will die in her place.'

'Four years counting from today, Mata?'

'Four years counting from the night she saved the Prince's life.' She answered. 'Time is not in your favour.' She warned him.

'How will I kill her Mata? She is in the palace, surrounded by protectors.'

'An opportunity will present itself to you soon, at that time your vishakanya must be ready.' With that she turned and left.

Sujit stood there for quite some time, an unearthly mist had settled over the grove, cold air chilling him to the bones. The cold burned as memories he would rather not remember seared through his mind. They came in flashes and snippets leaving his thoughts and coordination in tatters; he was a boy once again and the soldiers had come.

They were having dinner and his mother had smuggled some sweets into his plate. The taste of laddoos was still on his tongue when they barged in, swords drawn.

Chaarun had been the first to die, the old retainer that had served his grandfather and then his father. The sword that fell him had glinted in the lamplight; Sujit remembered being fascinated with the flashes, wondering what would happen next. The old man bled much, his blood sprayed in high arches, drenching Sujit and his new silks, some got in his mouth, warm blood and the taste of laddoo mingled. He choked on blood and tears. They had dragged his father out by his hair into the courtyard and had kicked his mother in the stomach to stop her from clinging to her husband and then dragged her out too, by the hair. Sujit vaguely remembered one of them pulling at his arm and dragging him after his parents.

They lined them up in the courtyard that always rang with laughter; it rang with tears of despair now. Shackles were put on his father and he was herded to a wagon, his mother tried to go to him, one of the soldiers backhanded her, she fell to the floor and rose again screaming her husband's name. The same soldier punched her and she didn't rise again. Sujit watched her inert body with a blank look on his face, all he thought was how he would never eat laddoo again.

Amatya Sohan was tried and found guilty of treason and was hung in a cage outside the akhada dying from a thousand wounds and the ministrations of carrion eaters. It was then Sujit swore vengeance for his father, his mother and their honour.

With a violent spasm the chill left him. Sujit lifted himself from the ground, physically and mentally exhausted now that Kali ma's toll had been paid. On shaky feet, he stumbled past the grove to Menon and into the chariot. Panting heavily, he passed out.