Samsāra

Chapter Seventeen

The merchant blanched and his mouth hung slack.

Ajiona continued. 'In fact, you received it for free. Snatching it off the beggar boy who was sitting in front of your shop.'

'He probably stole it.' The merchant murmured under his breath, then paled the more when he realised he had dug the hole to bury himself in.

'So you wanted to steal from me to? By cheating me?' Her eyes went steely. 'Do you know the punishment for swindling? No? Your goods and fortunes will be confiscated and you will be banished from Mahishmathi. Do you know who I am?'

The merchant dumbly shook his head.

'Pray you don't, just know I have enough power to ensure you lose everything. Now what price do you call this?'

Less confident, he told her she had done him honour by patronising him and added the necklace as a gift. Ajiona beamed at him. When they left, she growled something in her native language under her breath.

' How do you know it's clay painted silver?' Mekhala asked, she was bearing a carved sandalwood box wrapped with embroidered silk. It contained animals cleverly carved from ebon tree and dipped in molten gold. The guard carried most of their purchases, accepting them without a word, even without being asked. Ajiona herself clutched a couple of small bundles to herself, she had snatched them from Mekhala before the tiny handmaid could blink and carried on, ignoring her little protests. Pragya had merely frowned and held her tongue. Mekhala was a fragile girl, soft looking and tender hearted, she was prone to fanciful thoughts and acts. Pragya thought of her as a little sister she never had, to be cuddled and protected. Pragya of course, bore the burden of the jeweleries. She consider herself the most street smart of them all, having grown up in the slums of Mahishmathi, she knew the underbelly of this shiny capital city like she knew the back of her hand. She knew the alleys people were most likely to get robbed, the alleys you could escape through, the extended spy network that rivalled Rajamata's, made up of beggars and ganikas and street urchins. Those street urchins made up the scouts as well and Pragya had noted a few monitoring them. For once she was glad Ajiona had her way in abandoning the litter and the remaining of the guards. There was no way they'll be able to manoeuvre a litter through the narrow escape alleys.

' Oh I don't know if it's clay and he doesn't know either,' Ajiona answered. 'He snatched it off a little boy loitering in front of his shop.'

Mekhala gave a small gasp, her round eyes went rounder. 'Oh dear.' She breathed. 'Poor boy, should we find the boy and return it to him?'

'Oh no! He was paid.' With a grin she told Mekhala how the boy had expertly slit the merchant's purse and made away with the contents. Mekhala giggled.

They made their way through the winding streets of the market ignoring entreaties from shopkeepers and their attendants. Overhead, the sun went higher and hotter, the breeze turned warm and lifted uttariyas and flapped dhotis and antariyas. Burly men muscled their way through the crowd, creating way for the litter bearers. The tinkling of bells heralded slow moving bullock carts and the occasional elephant. The air became heavy with scents from different incense and spice shops, flowers and perfumes and sweetmeats and along with the odour of sweat from both human and animals, it became a cloying perfume. Heat increased, people jostled each other, curses were thrown back and forth, purses were expertly slit by sly slinky boys who disappeared almost as quick as mist on a hot day; good were crushed underfoot.

Their guard pushed people aside to create a gap for the ladies to walk through and soon they turned into the less crowded streets.

'It might have been a bad idea to leave the litter behind,' Ajiona admitted swiping sweat away with a flick of her hand.