The Enemy's Daughter

Chapter Twenty-Three

 Harshvardhan spurred his horse. He had received a faint lead about her and had decided to follow it. He prayed to God that he would be in time to find her. He would not even dwell on the other possibilities. His heart pounded with dread to think that there may be some other outcome of this mission. How would he live if something happened to her? He had not realized how deeply he had come to love the enemy's daughter whom he had professed to hate once. She was everything that he had ever wished for in a woman: courageous, kind, and beautiful. That beauty was not only on the surface but extended right inside her being. He could not believe that someone would wish her ill.

The scrub had given way to a denser vegetation. He had been traveling since dawn. His men were quite a distance away for he had ridden like the wind. His hands were chaffed from holding the reins tight for too long but he did not care. His suffering was nothing compared to what she might have faced at the hands of the traitors. Dread crept up his spine as that thought crossed his mind.

*****

Hassan stood outside the mansion, gathering the courage to step inside. Having traveled for the better part of a week, he had at last reached Jaigarh. Apprehension, along with the dust, dried his throat, making it feel like a thorny bush. He did not know whether this tedious journey that he had undertaken would bear fruit or if he would return empty-handed. The watchman let him inside, having recognized the merchant who had stayed there for a night in the gatehouse.

Hassan stepped inside with a feeling of consternation rising in his chest, making it painful to breathe. The first sight which greeted his eye as he was led inside was that of his blue-eyed goddess, sitting in the walled garden, her robes all disheveled and her hair like a halo around her shoulders, dallying with a youth who appeared to be of noble lineage. It was clear that they had been engaged in some sort of love play.

The servant cleared his throat to draw his mistress' attention and Neelanjana looked up, her eyes staring straight into Hassan's furious gaze. An expression of dismay crossed her face, and she rose abruptly from her perch, her feet taking her of their own volition towards the scowling man in front of her.

"It is.....not as it appears, my...love. Please give me a chance to explain," she stuttered, an entreaty in her glance, while he glared at the youth who seemed to be enjoying the scene playing in front of him. "What are you grinning at, you scoundrel," Neelanjana threw at the young man, who thought it better to make himself scarce from the scene.

"Have I made a mistake by seeking you out, Neelanjana? Tell me so that I may be free of this fire of jealousy burning within me," he said, his stance rigid from the blow to his heart. He knew he shouldn't react in that manner, for she was but a courtesan whose profession was to entertain men, but he had assumed that Harshvardhan was the only man she was obliged to serve, while here she was, flirting with another man. Was his mother right and had he wasted his time by coming here, he wondered.

Drawing him by the hand towards the garden bench where she had been reclining just a few moments ago, she pushed him onto it and sank down beside him. Putting her arms around his neck she looked at him with all her love in her eyes. "Believe me, darling, it is not as you think. That man was Prithviraj, a friend of the Prince." She paused to take a deep breath.

"So, what was he doing here?" Hassan showed his displeasure.

Gazing into his eyes with a glance that bared her soul, she went on. "I had decided to leave in search of your homeland, having made up my mind to give up my position here. Fearing Harshvardhan's wrath, I had sought the help of his close friend to escape the city. Being a rascal, he wanted a kiss in return for his help," she confessed with a sigh.