“Who is it?” she asked, trying to keep the excitement in check.
“Aaai… uuuu…” Perhaps he saw her anticipation and understood, perhaps he didn’t, but judging from his expression, the girl knew she had been wrong in thinking it was Ghataraja. Dveeja’s face was pained, the strain in his voice telling her something was amiss.
“Aaaaaaaaaa…” he said, finally letting go of the bangle and standing up. He motioned with his hand, urging her to come with him.
The girl put the paintbrush down next to the pot, rose and followed Dveeja out of the room. The man led her through rooms and passageways, down the stairs and into the rear courtyard of the large house. Stopping at the back entrance, he pointed vaguely at something outside.
“Uuuu… aaa… au…” he said to Aparupa in an undertone.
The girl pushed past him and stepped outside. Except for one of the part-time maids who worked at the house, the courtyard was empty all the way to the compound’s back gate, which was almost hidden from view by her mother’s corn cultivation. The maid was busy winnowing barley on a threshing stone, her back to Aparupa and Dveeja.
“What is it?” Aparupa enquired, looking at the man.
“Uuuuu… aaaiii… aaaa…” Dveeja said, pointing first to the bangle in Aparupa’s hand, then to the maid in the courtyard. He then circled his thumb and middle finger around his wrist and twirled his wrist back and forth to signal ‘bangle’.
“What about the bangle?” Aparupa asked.
“Aaaaaa…”
Letting out an exasperated grunt, Dveeja took Aparupa by the hand and dragged her across the courtyard until they were next to the maid. The maid looked up at them and smiled, her thin, tired face suddenly attractive as white teeth flashed in the sun.
“Greetings,” the maid said, offering a pranaam.
“Greetings,” Aparupa replied, then looked at Dveeja expectantly.
For a few awkward moments, the three of them just stood there, looking at one another. At last, probably realizing that Aparupa would never get it, Dveeja stepped forward and pointed at the maid’s hand.
Finally, Aparupa saw it.
Resting on the maid’s right wrist was a fine bangle crafted in the shape of two twisting snakes, each swallowing the other’s tail. The lightweight bangle, made of bamboo, was an exact duplicate of the one the soldier had gifted her.
Her eyes widening in surprise, Aparupa quickly hid the bangle she was holding behind her. She then looked at the maid.
“That is such a lovely bangle you are wearing,” she said, allowing her wide eyes to reflect admiration. “It is so rare.”
“Isn’t it?” asked the maid, basking in the attention being lavished on her. She raised her hand, turning it this way and that, so that Aparupa could see the bangle better. The girl used the opportunity to inspect it closely; it was a double, without a doubt.
“Where did you buy it from?” asked Aparupa.
“I didn’t. My husband gifted it to me.”
“Your husband?” Aparupa asked, mildly apprehensive. “Who is he, and where did he buy such a beautiful gift for you?”
“He works at one of your father’s shops in the market,” the maid replied.
“Oh. And where did he buy it from?”
“I don’t know. He returned home four nights — no, five nights ago — and he brought this for me. He was drunk on firewater, and he said it was a gift worthy of his queen,” she giggled self-consciously at the memory.
“Beautiful!” Aparupa smiled at the maid. “Indeed, it is worthy of his queen. Not every man has an eye for such beauty, so you are doubly lucky to have a husband like… what’s his name?”
“Kubja,” the maid answered shyly.
“Kubja,” Aparupa committed the name to memory. “You are lucky to have a husband like Kubja.”
* * *
“A girl has come wanting to see you, commander.”
“A girl? To see me?” Vismaya stared at the guard who had brought him the message. The chief of the guards was standing on a small, high terrace located in the northern section of the palace, where a suryayantra had been installed. He was overseeing two of his men as they oiled the machine’s gears and levers. “Who is she?”
“I don’t know, commander,” the guard replied. “But she says you are related.”
“I am related to her?” The chief of the guards looked thoroughly perplexed. Giving his head a dubious shake, he asked, “Where is she?”
“By the entrance to the royal kitchens, commander. It wouldn’t have been appropriate to keep her waiting at the palace gate.”
“Of course not. Good thinking,” Vismaya nodded. He turned to the men servicing the heliotrope. “I need to go, but make sure every part is working smoothly. I don’t want someone from the Royal Engineers coming for inspection and saying we’re not taking proper care of the suryayantra.”
The men nodded. Vismaya looked back at the messenger and gestured towards the door leading out of the terrace. “Let’s see what this girl wants.”
When Vismaya reached the entrance to the kitchens, he spied a young woman in the shade of a small lime tree in a corner of the courtyard. The woman stood modestly to one side, trying not to draw attention, but the fact that she was tall and strikingly attractive didn’t make her job easy. Vismaya observed a few guards milling around, talking loudly and trying to catch the woman’s eye, while a few male servants appeared to have found lots to do in the kitchen just then. In contrast, the two maids who were around were shooting glances full of envy and venom at the woman.
“Is that her?”
Seeing the messenger nod, the chief of the guards stepped towards the tree. “I’m told you were looking for me. What do you want?”
The woman turned to him, and Vismaya blinked at the beauty in that brown face, with its sparkling black eyes and soft brown hair that escaped in rebellious little twirls from the shawl she had drawn demurely over her head. He guessed she was not more than twenty. He also noticed the knotted bundle by her feet, which told him she had been on the road before coming to the palace.
“Speak up, girl,” Vismaya said, finding his voice. The courtyard had gone silent, and he knew that everyone — guards, maids, palace hands, cooks, delivery boys — within earshot would be listening in on the conversation.
“Vismaya… mama?” the woman’s large eyes assessed him in surprise and wonder. “Is it really you?”
“Yes, I am Vismaya,” the chief of the guards replied, conscious of the term she had used to address him. Mama — colloquial for uncle in Avanti. “Who are you?”
“Don’t you remember me, mama?” The woman took a step towards him, a half-smile on her lips. “Mithyamayi?”
Mithyamayi. Vismaya struggled to place the name and finally shook his head.
“Mithyamayi…” the woman said, nodding, “Your niece?”
“My niece?” asked Vismaya, frowning. “No girl, you’re mistaken. I don’t have any brothers or sisters.”
The woman’s face fell a little, but she took another hesitant step forward. “Your cousin Karunya… you remember her, don’t you?” She looked at Vismaya anxiously, even desperately. “Karunya… you grew up together in…”
“Karunya from Viswapuri?” Vismaya’s face lit up. “She got married and went there.”
“Yes,” the woman’s face flooded with relief.
“And you are her…?” The chief of the guards peered closely at the woman. “Wait… don’t tell me you are Mithi, her daughter.”
“Mithyamayi. Mithi,” the woman nodded. She had tears of joy in her eyes. “I was afraid you wouldn’t remember me, mama,” she said.
It was Vismaya’s turn to take two steps towards the woman. He reached out and held her by her upper arms. “How you have grown, child,” he said, looking up at her face. “You were so small when I last saw you. It was years ago, when I visited Viswapuri. You had learned to walk, but you would insist on being carried on my shoulders.”
“That’
s what mother always used to say when we spoke of you, mama,” Mithyamayi smiled.
“How is Karunya? It has been so…” Vismaya stopped on seeing Mithyamayi bite her lip as her eyes turned sad.
“Mother is dead,” she said. “She died last month. That is why I am here.”
“Oh.” Not sure how to react to this, Vismaya looked around and saw that the guards were still watching and listening. “Don’t you have jobs to attend to?” he demanded, his voice carrying across the yard. “I can find something to keep all of you occupied if you have nothing better to do than loaf around the kitchen.”
The guards dispersed immediately, and when he turned back to Mithyamayi, Vismaya saw that she was smiling. “My mama is a powerful man whom even soldiers listen to,” she said with a note of pride. “Wherever she is, mother would be happy to know this.”
“Your mama is just a soldier,” Vismaya smiled. Sobering up, “How did Karunya…?”
“Mother wasn’t well for the last few years. After father died, they…”
“Oh, your father is no more?”
Mithyamayi shook her head. “After his death, they drove me and mother out. Father’s family. They blamed mother for his death, said she had brought ill luck on the family. We roamed around from village to village, working here, working there…”
“Why didn’t Karunya come back to Ujjayini?”
Mithyamayi shrugged. “Perhaps she didn’t want us to be a burden on you. You know there is no one else, don’t you, mama? No other relations, nowhere else to go.”
Vismaya nodded. The girl was right. There was no one else.
“Anyway, when it became obvious that her end was near, mother told me to come to you after she was gone. She said you were in the City Watch, and that I was to ask for you. She said you would know what to do with me. So, here I am.” “You have nowhere else to go.” It was a simple statement, but there were questions and uncertainties hidden in its folds.
A maid with gentle, motherly looks appeared at Vismaya’s side, holding a glass of buttermilk. “Here, child, drink this,” she smiled, offering the glass to Mithyamayi.
“My niece,” said the chief of guards, as Mithyamayi accepted the buttermilk.
“I know. I heard,” the maid replied. “Poor thing. No mother, nowhere to go. Where will she stay?”
Uncle and niece looked at one another.
“She can’t stay with me in the palace,” Vismaya scratched his grey beard doubtfully. “And I don’t have any other home in the city. I don’t know…”
“I can’t stay here with you, mama?” Mithyamayi asked.
“Only those who work in the palace can live here.”
“Can’t you find me some work at the palace then?” Her eyes were shimmering pools in that beautiful face of hers, designed to melt hearts.
“It’s not so easy to find…” Vismaya began, but the old maid interrupted him.
“Oh, look at her, so sweet and helpless. Where will the poor thing go?” She stepped up to Mithyamayi and placed a comforting hand on her arm. “We will do something, don’t worry.”
Turning to Vismaya, she said, “There must be some work available for her here, commander. You are the chief of the Palace Guards. You just have to ask the right people. You know you can do it, commander.”
* * *
“I could have sent this to you in the dispatch, but I don’t know whom I can trust here, so I figured it was best if I came and met you in person. I couldn’t come yesterday as there were two outpost inspections that I couldn’t afford to put off. Then there were patrol duties to be allocated for the week. It was almost nightfall by the time it all got done, so I waited until dawn before heading out.”
“I understand,” said Commander Atulyateja to Dattaka, who was seated across him in his office in the fort of Udaypuri. “And these three… confessors?”
“All three are under arrest and under heavy guard, commander.”
“You trust the people who are guarding them?”
“I do,” replied Dattaka.
“What has the rest of the command centre been told about their arrest?”
“That they are under investigation for stealing firewater from the mess.”
“Stealing firewater,” Atulyateja chuckled. “That won’t make them very popular with the men. Good idea.”
“Thank you, commander.”
Atulyateja considered Dattaka and couldn’t help admiring the man’s resourcefulness. He had had nothing but a suspicion to go on, but by cleverly playing on the three soldiers’ fears and insecurities, he had extracted the same confession from each of them — that Chirayu, the governor’s aide, had paid them five silver coins each and promised all of them promotions if they would let him visit the cell of the captured Huna scout.
“Chirayu,” Atulyateja repeated, addressing the third person in the room. “You know him well, I presume, captain.”
“I wish I didn’t, commander,” the man replied, scowling. He was Subha, the Second Captain of the garrison. “He’s been here from the day the governor took charge, and he behaves as if he has the governor’s authority vested on his shoulders. Slimy fellow. He’s always slinking around, spying on everything and reporting back to his master. I hate the man.”
“In which case, it should give you pleasure to arrest him.”
“We’re arresting him?” the Second Captain looked from Dattaka to Atulyateja, his pink face flushed at the prospect, his big, grey moustache quivering in anticipation.
“Why not?” asked Atulyateja. “He will have to pay for his treachery. But we won’t arrest him right away. We first need to ask ourselves on whose orders Chirayu was acting, and whether his arrest would tip off whoever he is working for. Chirayu is the puppet. We need to know who is pulling the strings.”
“I agree,” said Dattaka. “Maybe we can put him under surveillance so that…”
He was interrupted by a sudden uproar from somewhere below. There were shouts from a couple of soldiers, a rush of footsteps up the wooden staircase, and as the three officers exchanged puzzled glances, a woman’s voice rang out from the end of the corridor.
“I won’t go without seeing him,” it said, loud, determined, defiant.
“You can’t go there…” a soldier’s voice pleaded, but he was cut short.
“Try stopping me.”
The next instant, a woman stomped past the half-open door to Atulyateja’s room. The garrison commander caught a passing glimpse of her, as at the same time, she peeked in through the gap in the door at him. And then, she was gone.
Atulyateja, Dattaka and Subha were still looking at one another in befuddlement when the door was flung open. Atulyateja turned to find a girl in the doorway, staring wildly into the room. Behind her, a soldier came into view, looking flustered.
“Is this where he is having his meeting?” she was asking. Before anyone could say anything, her eyes alighted on Subha and she cried out. “There you are… sir. I have been looking for you everywhere.”
The girl stepped into the room, her eyes still on the Second Captain. Atulyateja rose from his chair, vexed at the unfolding drama.
“Stop right there,” he said in a voice that carried so much weight that the girl froze and turned to him with big eyes. He saw that she was very young, curvy and heavily built. She wore a gold nose ring and her hair was tied in a long plait.
“What’s happening here?” Atulyateja demanded. “What are you doing?”
“I am Aparupa, daughter of the merchant Aatreya,” the girl said. Pointing at Subha, she said, “I came looking for him…”
“I don’t care who you are, but you cannot walk around the garrison as if it is your father’s shop, understand?” Atulyateja snapped. Turning a stern eye on the Second Captain, he said, “Tell the women you are seeing that the garrison is out of bounds. They can’t just come in here…”
“No, commander, no,” Subha shook his head furiously. “I don’t even know her…”
“Of course, yo
u do,” the girl butted in angrily. “You saw me that afternoon…”
“Enough.” Atulyateja rapped his desk hard with his knuckles. “Both of you, leave and sort this out once and for all. And hereafter, don’t bring your fights and disagreements into the garrison, captain. Now take her and go.”
“Commander, she is nothing to me,” the Second Captain entreated. “Look at her. She is only a kid. How could I… I really don’t know her. All I know is that she was at the garrison gate a few days ago, looking for some soldier. That’s all, commander. I swear I don’t know why she’s here now.”
“Because you said…”
“Stop,” said Atulyateja, raising his hand. “Stop.”
When he was sure the girl had been silenced, he said, “You were looking for a soldier, and you still are.” As the girl opened her mouth to speak, he added, “Answer with ‘yes’ or ‘no’.”
“Yes.”
“And that soldier is not the Second Captain here.”
“No.”
“And this soldier you are looking for has… is not to be found.”
“Yes.”
“Then why did you come here looking for the Second Captain now?”
“Because I don’t know who else to go to.” Suddenly, the girl’s voice trembled as if she was on the verge of tears. “I thought the Second Captain could help. He asked me the soldier’s name, whether he was in the Frontier Guard…I… want…” A tear rolled down her cheek, then another.
Atulyateja heaved a sigh and pointed to the empty chair next to Dattaka. “Sit down.” With a small wave of his hand, he dismissed the three soldiers who had come after the girl and were now standing outside the door.
“Will you shut the door, please?” he asked Subha.
Once there were just the four of them in the room, the garrison commander sat down and looked at Aparupa. “Would you like some water?” When the girl shook her head, he said, “Okay, I know this soldier is important to you. What is his name?”
“Ghataraja.”
“Interesting name,” Atulyateja’s eyebrows went up. “Since when has he left… been missing?”
The Vengeance of Indra Page 25
