Pragya lifted an exquisite gold necklace up from where it was nestled on the silk cloth and squinted at it as if trying to find any faults. But there weren't any, the necklace was layered, hanging down to the navel, each layer was as thin and fine as spider’s silk, mother of pearls and winking rubies found nesting places in the layers. It would be a perfect choice for her mistress.
'You have a good eye,' the merchant was saying, stroking his beard. He was dressed extravagantly, gems winked and glinted in various positions on his body. He towered over the four of them, beaming beatifically. 'It is indeed a marvelous necklace. Crafted by the best goldsmith in Persia, the pearls are of the finest quality, seen the sheen on them. The rubies have been blessed by great Swamis.'
Pragya didn't react to his words, she pursed her mouth thoughtfully and cocked her head to a side. 'I am not sure my mistress would want this. Forgive my saying good sir, I mean no disrespect, but this look a bit, say, cheap.'
The merchant's ruddy face went darker red. 'Cheap!?' He thundered. 'Why you!?'
'I meant no disrespect sir, but look at my mistress,' she bobbed her head in Ajiona's direction. The merchant looked too, his eyes narrowing speculatively.
Ajiona, oblivious to the scrutiny, was chatting merrily with Mekhala and the solemn guard who looked utterly bored with the affairs going on. Pragya's mistress was looking at the cheaper things, the ones made of coloured pottery and glass, polished river pebbles and cheap metal. Nevertheless, the merchant saw what she wanted him to see. A wealthy young woman decked in the finest of the finest. Too fine for a trip to the market, Ajiona had protested earlier but Pragya had gotten her way with her attire and the mode of transportation, if not with anything else. Their reasons for coming out clashed, Ajiona wanted to sightsee and buy roadside food and other cheap things, Pragya wanted her mistress to learn how to behave like a young noble woman which included looking the best and not talking to her servants in a friendly manner in public. She admired Ajiona's strength and friendliness and was fond of the naive foreigner but if she didn't learn she would get eaten alive in the palace. But Pragya remained hopeful that her mistress would learn, she had gotten Ajiona to buy some fine silk materials and expensive looking knickknacks, the treasury had funded their outing well, and after she would suggest she find friends among the courtiers daughters.
'Of course,' the merchant finally said. 'What was I thinking?' His grin went impossibly wide and his attitude improved. He hollered at his attendant to bring out stools for them to sit under the expansive awning and serve them cold mango juice, while he brought out more merchandise.
'This one is silver from Arabia, this one is from Persia look at this one jade nose ring from Cina,' he went on and on and on. Pragya selected the ones she liked for her mistress with a dismissive bored look she had perfected over time.
Pragya bought a nine-stringed mekhala, a gem encrusted hairnet, payals with tinkling bells, two necklace, all for 50 gold Kārshāpaṇas. She didn't haggle. The merchant was wrapping up the purchases when Ajiona piped up, holding a long necklace of silver and glass beads.
'How about this Pragya?' Her tone was open, friendly and completely informal. Pragya stifled a sigh.
The merchant's head swivelled towards Ajiona and his eyes shone with greed, sensing one he could take advantage of.
'You have a good eye devi,' he said rubbing his meaty paws in anticipation.
'How much is it?' Ajiona asked shortly. She has seen the greed in his eyes and gone cold and brusque. Pragya hid a smile of pride.
'For you, 10 gold Kārshāpaṇas.’
'Ten?' She said flatly. 'For something made from glass and pottery painted silver?'
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.
' Perhaps we should stop to rest our feet,' Pragya advised, gesturing towards the sweets shop. Mekhala looked like she was about to collapse and Pragya needed to strategize. She had spotted more of those scouts and they seemed to be concentrated solely on their group.
The shopkeeper was a middle-aged man with a genuine toothy grin. He welcomed them graciously and a place inside to sit and escape from the sun. Mekhala collapsed gratefully unto the cushions laid out, Pragya sniffed and sat more gracefully, arranging it so Ajiona sat by her.
The shopkeeper served them cold milk and a platter of dried fruits and left them to attend to sales. Ajiona accepted the milk but didn't touch the fruits, Pragya noticed she was steadily eyeing the doorway and it occurred to her that Ajiona must have noticed the boys following them.
She lifted her bronze cup to her mouth and spoke over the rim. 'There are three boys following us.' Her lips barely moved as she pretended to take a sip.
Pragya lifted a fig and gave a small nod. 'They are scouts for robbers, they'll go back to report to their masters and come back to lure us into a trap.' She looked up at the guard, who was ladened with goods and only one sword. 'We will be outnumbered.'
' I do not trust the shopkeeper, I saw him signal one of the boys.' Ajiona continued under her breath, her lips hardly twitching. Pragya watched her with growing pride and awe, her look turned to horror when she saw Mekhala had devoured half of the platter and drunk her milk. She lay, replete, next to them.
'Mekhala!' They couldn't drag her along.
Ajiona barely reacted to her handmaid lying a semi-sleepy state. 'Here's what we do, we leave now after buying a few sweets and go back to the crowded part of the market. We could lose them.' She said all at once and at the same time, Ajiona held out her hand for the guard to help her up. As he did, she tripped and fell against him, Pragya saw her mouth move rapidly but couldn't make out what she was saying. Then as quickly as she had fallen against him, she moved away, her cheeks stained red with obvious embarrassment. Sweets were purchased and a sulky Mekhala grumbled as they retraced their steps back into the street they had just left.
Pragya was briefly disoriented as they plowed through the dense crowd of sweaty bodies as she momentarily lost sight of her companions. Batting down a rising panic, she caught a glimpse of the lemon silk Ajiona has been wearing and went ahead in that direction. It turned out to not be her and the panic settled in her belly, like a coiled snake, waiting to strike. She glanced wildly around and the crowd pushed her forward. A warm hand clamped on her arm and she caught the whiff of jasmine. A scream rose to her throat but never made it past there. Ajiona motioned for her to be silent, she now had an uttariya, plain brown and big, it covered her from head to ankle, she handed one to her and as they were being pushed forward, Pragya managed to drape it over her head.
She wanted to ask where Mekhala was but already knew the answer. What she had whispered to the guard must have been to take Mekhala along with him once they got into crowd, splitting them up into two. Pragya saw the hilt of a dagger tucked into the folds of her skirts and the focused look in her eyes.
' They are going back for the litter,' it was stating the obvious but Pragya felt the burning need to say something.
' Mekhala was born outside the city,' was all Ajiona said as she shouldered past a thin man. 'They took the shorter route, I saw two of the boys follow them. They are going for reinforcement Saahas says we should wait at the old Ayurvedic hospice.'
'We can't,' her voice was lost in the crowd's pitched droning. Pragya hurried after Ajiona.
' We can't go there, that place is full of them.'
Ajiona pushed on. 'So where?'
' I know a route, it takes us by the river bank, but it's quicker.'
Pragya took the lead this time, taking them away from the crowd and into one of the alleys. It was cooler and urgency quickened their steps. They came out into a narrower road that curved sharply three yards on to the right. Cobblestones gave way to hard dirt and stone path and finally to the soft rich loam soil of the river bank. Just a few yards up they'll come to the fork that leads to the road and on to the small park they left the litter.
Ajiona suddenly stopped and Pragya looked at her quizzically. Casually, Ajiona reached into her girdle and brought out a small bone knife, the length of a finger and width of three finger span.
'When they surround us, try to take two out and then run, I'll deal with the rest. They are five in number.' She whispered.
Pragya's widened and she nodded carefully accepting the dagger Ajiona handed out.
The jeering whistling call came almost as soon as she took the dagger.
'Why the hurry sweetheart?'
They appeared from everywhere, circling the two girls. Five tall louts, with bulging muscles and a leery look in her eyes. They smiled in a predatory way, showing paan stained teeth and gums, the reek of unwashed bodies overwhelmed Pragya almost as the sight of their sheer body structure. The leader was the bulkiest and Pragya recognised him.
' Upanay,' she muttered.
'Pragya,' he was smiling but his eyes were cold. 'Fancy missing you here traitor. I came to catch a trout but find the eel I'm longing for in the mix. I could hardly believe my ears when Jeet said he saw you, I had to come myself. We almost lost you earlier, splitting up and getting disguises was a clever ruse but it wasn't enough.'
'What do you want?' Ajiona asked letting the uttariya fall, her voice was colder than the Himalayas.
Interest lit up Upanay's eyes and a suggestive look came in. 'We were paid to capture and keep you, but I think we can come to another arrangement.'
'I'll pay you twice of what they did,' she said without blinking. Pragya saw she had somehow moved closer to Upanay. 'And you let me AND my friend go!'
Upanay stroked his beard, considering what she said. Ajiona had gotten close to touching distance, her face was carefully blank. Pragya wished she knew what she was thinking, she was scared for the both of them. Upanay was ruthless and merciless, greedy and sadistic, he enjoyed toying with people, Pragya knew there was no way he would let them go unscathed. Ajiona seemed to have a plan, if only she knew what it was. Her palm was sweaty and the dagger was in danger of slipping.
‘Pragya is mine,’ he growled and his eyes twinkled. ‘But I'll be willing to part with her, if you give me what I desire…’ he trailed off, his eyebrows lifted suggestively.
Pragya felt sick to her stomach. Ajiona gave him a small smile and raised her arm as if she wanted to touch him. Pragya got a glimpse of the little bone knife as she sharply brought her arm down against his shoulder and the same time she raised her other arm and rammed her fist into his forehead. Pragya thought she heard a crunch. Upanay’s eyes widened in pain and surprise, before he could yell, she struck him hard in the throat with a knife hand. Upanay choked and as he slumped, Ajiona was on to the second man. It all happened so fast and before the men could process what just happened, the split second it took before they reacted, Ajiona was toppling the second man with discombobulating blows to both his temples, fast chops to the throat and two hard, heavy, punches to the ribs. And down he went.
Her heart began pumping loud with rising excitement and panic, her stomach was still churning. Pragya realised what she was supposed to do, unsheathed the dagger and rushed into the fray but she tripped over the hem of her uttariya and smacked into one of the thugs; both of them went down with a heavy thud. Pragya rose but the thug did not, warm sticky fluid stained the fist she was using to clutch on the dagger's hilt and the blade had found a new sheathe in the thug’s throat. Blood had pooled around the point of entry and spilled down the sides of his brown throat. Pragya watched, shocked as bubbles formed and popped, as his eyes darted frantically back and forth, his big hands clawing at the soil. She felt nauseous.
The blade came out from his throat with a wet plop! and Pragya felt sicker. Blood gushed and soaked her hands and spilled to soak the earth beneath. Rich black soil drew the blood in as if the earth was inhaling without exhaling. She clambered off him, feeling sick yet thrumming with energy. She felt an odd surge of power and excitement, she enjoyed the feeling, it felt full, it sang.
Shrugging off the uttariya, she launched herself at another forcing him down with her weight and vicious stabs to the back, forcing her way to flesh, sinews and muscles. Blood splashed on her face, bubbled over the hands that were clamped around the hilt of the dagger in a death grip. Pragya kept on stabbing until it occurred to her that he was dead. Dazed and swaying, she lifted herself off him, her clothes was sticky with blood. Noises told her of the activities going on about her, her mistress was clamped like a leech to the back of the tallest thug, her legs clasped about his waist, one arm around his throat and an elbow on his shiny dome, repeatedly hammering. The man resisted and with a great effort, yanked her off his back and flung her away. She landed on hands and knees and sprang up again almost immediately, going on at full speed she dashed towards him. The thug bellowed in response, his arms open wide, she flung herself at him and his arms closed about her in a deadly embrace. Ajiona sank her thumbs into his eyes, pushing deep into his skull, the rest of her fingers were splayed about his head for better grip.
The thug howled in pain and tightened his embrace. Only Ajiona's grunts told of the pain and discomfort she was in. The thug could no longer resist, he took a step back and fell with a soft thud, taking Ajiona with him. She struck him twice in the jaw for good measure and collapsed by his side.
Pragya turned away from her, her gaze latching on Upanay’s prone form. So vulnerable. The song of anger began its keening wail in her head as she remembered what the thief had put her through, how it had affected her family. Her brother lived in squalor because of him, they had an ever growing mound of debt to pay because of him. Her brother, Deeran, was a chariot maker, a profession he had inherited from their vaishya father, he made enough but due to compulsive gambling, he had squandered their money and got himself indebted to Upanay. With a mounting interest, Pragya had gone to talk to him and he made her a proposition. Find the location of the rajakosa and I'll forgive your debts. Pragya had refused the first time and the second time he asked and again the third time, sealing her refusal with a slap that time. After that, the painted red hand had appeared above the doorway of Deeran’s humble home and no one would approach them now. The debt was still there and they paid it in monthly installments. For five years, Pragya had worked in the palace and refused to leave the safety of its walls choosing to send her pay to her family through a messenger, Upanay was on the hunt for her blood, until now.
She could end it now, she reasoned. He would die painlessly, something he did not deserve. With Upanay dead, she'd be free. Yes, she'll do it.
‘Pragya?!’ A voice called but it was lost to Pragya. ‘Pragya, don't!’
A hand grabbed at her and Pragya lashed out with the dagger. There was a muffled yell of pain and the hand dropped away only to again clamp itself on her wrist and twist. The dagger fell out of her fist as pain flashed up her arm to her shoulder, a hard slap landed on her cheek. Burning pain spider-webbed across her face, bringing into her a feeling apart from anger. The haze vanished, and she blinked.
Ajiona was staring at her, her expression a mix of concern and pain. There was a weeping wound on her right shoulder running down her arm. Smaller cuts and bruises dotted exposed skin.
‘Pragya? Are you okay?’
Pragya felt an overwhelming sense of shame and helplessness. Tears pooled and began leaking from her eyes.
‘Let me go,’ she pleaded. ‘Please.’
Ajiona let go of her. ‘Come back when you are ready,’ she told her with an understanding smile.
Pragya took off, a hot feeling of shame covering her. Cool wind rushed past her as she rushed to the unknown, blood dried against her skin, her face. Her hair had fallen loose from the bun and whipped her face. Burning tears blinded her. She did not know how far she had run, her lungs burned, her legs ached.
‘Pragya?’ A voice said.
Pragya looked up and realised she had stopped running and was sitting under the hot sun. A hut loomed in front of her like a wall of clay with a telltale red hand above the door. She burst into fresh tears.
Rajakosa- Royal treasury