Chapter 134

Hoopoe: I don't always make deliberate attempts to add symbolism. Atleast, not after the first few chapters. Symbolisms come naturally to me and it is not I who find them but the readers. If you think there is something to the footwear mentioned in the tale...then there must be. If you think like Soul that it is merely the eye of the writer touching on details, then it must be. Only know this: the eye that seeks something, it will always find a key to unlock new doors...

Sansu and Meg: Sansu dear, thank you for clarifying Meg's doubt about Kushi's knowledge. When I mentioned she felt his "wanting," I was merely refer to the emotional want and not to the physical one, Meg. She is nave in every way I can make her to be. Sansu has detailed the Kushi's understanding of his "wanting" as exactly as it should be. Thank you, dear Meg, for asking this... needed question. Where the water flows, there the water is clear...

Something I always love to get from my readers: their questions, though I times I remain silent for often the questions are such that to answer would be to reveal the light of the mysteries...*wink* But nothing should stop you: so ask away!

Missing Soul's comments a lot though I find Hoopoe and Shas are on steam, and even more happy to see that other inquisitive readers (Amina, Riti...) are drawn to add in to their discussion. I have no words with which to show my gratitude to you all! I am yet to read some more of your comments. But for now here's a chapter to while your time...

Chapter 210: The Unsought Mare and the Unwelcome Gift

The next morning, the First Lord had to leave for an urgent matter to the Industry and left earlier than the family's breakfast time.

Kushi had been insisted to join her husband at the Industry only after she had breakfasted with his family, hence she passed her time in his library reading a book until a servant appeared knocking at the door to tell her that the breakfast was ready to be served downstairs.

But when the family assembled in the dining hall, Lady Anjali and the General were not to be found. A servant was about to be sent to summon them from their bed chamber, in case they were still asleep, when the General himself walked through the central doors from outside the Castle and beside him was the village herbalist.

Nani was amazed to see such an unusual spectacle and enquired as to the presence of the herbalist, only to be informed by the General, most forlornly, that his wife was ill in bed and he had left at the break of dawn to fetch the herbalist.

No sooner had the General made this procurement than Nani, Lady Manorama and Kushi rushed to Lady Anjali's room where they found a pale looking Lady Anjali asleep in her bed, sweating immensely.

"Anjalibitiya..." the anguished Nani held her hand.

"She's unconscious," the herbalist announced on inspecting Lady Anjali and then, despite the protests, she managed to send the worried family and the husband out of the room so that she could tend to the ill mother in peace.

Breakfast was entirely abandoned for they had lost their appetite in the worry for their dear loved one. It was not until less than an hour had passed that the door opened and the herbalist appeared, wiping her hefty hands on a cloth but sporting an assuring smile on her face.

"She is fit as a fiddle now," the herbalist told them, "But make sure that she is well taken care of. See that she doesn't climb stairs anymore. Let her not find any cause for tangible worry. Give her ample fruits every day."

"Her diet already includes fruits," said Lady Manorama, who had been most concerned about her niece.

"Double the intake then," purported the herbalist.

Though she no longer appeared harried, Lady Anjali was given great caution to remain in bed and if any need was there, she was to inform the other ladies of the Castle who would see to the requisite.

Kushi decided it was unwise and heatless if she left for the Industry when Lady Anjali was so ill as she was found to be.

Knowing Lord Arnav would be expecting her, she decided to send a message through Om Prakash that she wouldn't be coming, and warned the servant not to, even accidently, mention the reason.

"He would only worry and fret if he learns of his sister's health," Kushi told him as she walked with him to the stable.

Om Prakash nodded, "I will do as you wish, my lady."

They entered the stable and Kushi was about to leave him to hitch a horse when she noticed the herbalist emerging from one of the stalls.

As the portly lady walked past Kushi towards the stable door, their gazes met.

"Ah, Kushibitiya," began the herbalist and then she paused, "Forgive me for calling you by the familiar address but I cannot remove the image of the young village girl whose family I was warmly acquainted with."

Kushi smiled gratefully, "And I am the very same person to this day, ma'am, though married."

Having hitched his horse, Om Prakash reared his ride out of the stable and then the two women were alone.

The herbalist beamed at her, "It is only a rejoicing news to my ears for I would dearly miss the Kushibitya I knew once whose spirit had always astonished me!"

Kushi smiled but her gaze was drawn to the stall from which the herbalist had come, "Isn't that Lightning's stall?"

"The white horse is named Lightning? Then yes, it is hers."

"Why were you-" and then she worried, "Is something wrong?"

"At present, it is all well," the herbalist smiled, "But she had been in quite a worse shape when her Master had brought her to me four days back. She could barely trot."

The herbalist looked over her shoulder at the door of the stall and then returned her gaze to Kushi's face, "I decided to check on her before I returned back to the village. She's a fine horse, quick on the mend I find."

The herbalist excused herself, mentioning that she was in a hurry to meet another in ailment' in the village. The women bowed to each other and after the herbalist had left the stable, Kushi found her concerned gaze drawn to the stall door in the distances.

She stepped forward, her boots crunching on the dry hay scattered on the stable floor, until she was standing before the stall door.

Kushi looked over the short stall door, knowing that because she could not see the horse's head peering from above the door, it meant the mare was lying down.

With a light push of her hand, Kushi pushed the stall door open and sure enough found the white mare, sprawled on the floor, her pretty head resting on her folded fore-knees, her white-grey mane over her eyes giving the appearance of one who wished not to be disturbed while in sleep.

Slowly edging towards the sleeping horse, Kushi knelt beside its head.

One white ear in the sea of white mane twitched, as though in sleep it had heard her approach.

Stretching out her hand, she let her fingers brush upon the grey mane.

Suddenly the white head looked up, the mane falling back to reveal its bright beady eyes staring at her suspiciously.

"It's alright, Lightning," she said warmly, "I mean no harm."
Lightning watched unblinkingly as her hand reached out and touched her head again. And then the horse closed her eyes and lay her head down, soothed by Kushi's hand that caressed her grey mane.

"What happened to you..." Kushi mouthed as she gazed down sadly at the white mare, who had always liked her when, in comparison, Shadow had always spurned her presence despite being the wife of his Master.

Lightning opened her eyes and then tapped the hoof of one of her forelegs on the hay-strewn floor. Which was when Kushi noticed the foreleg.

It was not bandaged but it almost appeared to be, covered in a green paste of mashed herbs.

"What happened to your leg?" Kushi asked worriedly as she reached out for the leg but the horse moved it away.

Kushi realized it might hurt to be touched.

"Does it pain too much?"

The horse remained still, watching her.

"I mean no harm, Lightning," assured Kushi and then extended out her hand again.

Her reaching fingers brushed gently upon the herb-pasted leg but she withdrew suddenly when Lightning flinched in pain.

"Forgive me, I didn't know-" she looked anxiously at the leg and then mused sadly, "Battles are so brutal..."

The horse exhaled through its nose, the hay before it on the floor blown a few inches away by the force of its equestrian exhale.

Kushi brought her hand to Lightning's head and caressed her mane.

The horse closed her eyes and remained still as though wanting to continue its interrupted sleep.

Kushi sighed, "I wish there was something I could do to help ease your pain, sweet Lightning."

The horse's eyelids were heavy with fatigue and Kushi knew the mare was better not disturbed.

"What a sweet sad horse you are, Lightning," whispered Kushi, "Though I despise your Master, you are a dear one."

Lying where it was, the horse exhaled and its warm breath bushed upon Kushi's wrist in acknowledgment of their liking for each other.

Kushi smiled and then, bending down, kissed the horse on it fair forehead, before getting on her feet and leaving the stable and the horse at peace.

As she walked away, brushing off the hay sticking to her gown, Lightning opened her eyes and her sad gaze was drawn to the retreating girl. Her Master's words, many days old, crept into her fatigued mind...

You will carry me to love, Lightning...to the end of this wretched curse.

The horse neighed weakly as the draught she'd been administered by the herbalist took on her mind and slipped all senses to a painless sleep.

In the evening, when Lord Arnav had returned to the Castle and the family had dined, the entire family spent some time in the living room.

Lady Anjali was back to her cheerful state and she sat on an armchair with her husband on her one side and Kushi on her other.

Lord Arnav had wanted to ask Kushi why she had exempted herself from coming to the Industry, but found himself immersed in the file he had brought from the Industry. He had to wield twice the effort to manage everything without Akash to share in the decisions and monitoring.

It was at this juncture when they lounged in the living room, talking, knitting, reading books and watching the fire in the fireplace, that JayPrakash and the maids came with warm coffee for the family followed by Rahim Chacha who held a tray upon which was a thickly wrapped bundle.

He came to a stop before Lady Manorama who had just placed her offered cup of coffee onto the low table beside her.

"A package arrived for you, my lady," said Rahim Chacha politely.

Lady Manorama stared at the said object upon the tray, "For me? Where is it from?"

"The South Village, my lady," the butler replied as Lady Manorama took the package.

Lady Manorama looked at the butler, "Is it from my son?"

"I believe it is from his wife, my lady," offered Rahim Chacha, and then he bowed to the family and left for the kitchens.

"From Jiji?" Kushi was amazed and she watched as Lady Manorama placed it doubtfully on her lap, "From the Bruised Beauty? What is it? A coiled snake?"

All eyes watched as Lady Manorama unwrapped the package and lifted out a folded violet gown, embroidered with dazzling bead and crystal work.

"The magnificence!" Nani exclaimed, "That is a most expensive gown, I value!"

"Do you see how the firelight dances off the beads, Kushiji!" Lady Anjali marveled to the one sitting beside her.

Kushi was filled with a proud elation, "This is Jiji's own exploit. I know when I see her crafting. She did the crystal work herself!"

"Did she now!" Nani was impressed, "I say, she's done a splendid job indeed. Don't you think, Manorama?"

"This? Splendid?" snorted Lady Manorama as she chucked the gown back into its wrapping, "I say, tis hideously done! No artistic taste has the hand that did the work!"

"Mami!" the gentle Lady Anjali protested, "How can you not see the beauty of such a wonderful creation!"

Nani only shook her head, trying to conceal her knowing smile, for she had seen how Lady Mamorama's eyes had lit with jubilation at her first glimpse of the gown before being told that Payal had did the work on it herself.

"Nonsense!" Lady Manorama said hotly, "This gown is not fit to be worn even without one's home! If it is to come to any use, I may have to exercise charity and give it to one of our maids!"

Lord Manohar looked up from his book, "Manu, is this the way you treat a gift? Send by your daughter-in-law, who by the look of it, had the heart only to give YOU a gift and none for the rest of us poor folk who love her more than you do."

"Certainly, then, this is poisoned," Lady Manorama retorted, "Like the gown that girl in the Greek Myth gifted her husband's new bride."

"Who, Medea?" the General tore his eyes from watching the fire place, "I don't think Miss Payal is evil enough to do something like that, Mami. Because if she wanted to injure you, she would have poisoned you the first day she stepped into the Castle, don't you think?"

Lady Manorama shot him a look, "Whose side are you on, General? I thought you would be supportive of my pitiable situation having to deal with a daughter-in-law I am far from accepting."

"I support no person, Mami," chuckled the General cheerfully, "I only support that which I believe is right."

Lord Arnav frowned into his file.

"So you do," Nani smiled at the General, "You are a fine soldier, Shyambitwa, and you exhibit the efficiency not just in the battlefield."

"I try to, Lady Mother," said the General warmly, "As long as others are willing to accept me in return."

He glanced at Kushi at this juncture but looked away when he met the steel cold gaze of her husband who sat across from her.

Lady Manorama was still inspecting the gown, fondling the hem of the gown lovingly, "What a horrible sense in frills!"

Lady Anjali leaned back in her armchair, "Payal is so proficient in her needlework."

Kushi smiled at her, "She takes it up from her mother."

Lord Arnav snorted, his eyes still in his file, "Obviously! She can't take it from her father, can she? That'd be a sight! A man sewing frills and flowers to a piece of cloth!"

Kushi glared in his direction and then smiled cunningly, "I know a man who owns an Industry that makes silk robes..."

Everyone was silent suddenly and they looked at Lord Arnav, expecting him to explode in wrath.

But surprisingly, he looked up from his file, looked at his wife disinterestedly and stated, "I don't stitch them."

Everyone was shocked by how daring Kushi had become, "You must have. At least in the days when the Industry was new and laborers were yet to be hired."

"There was no such day," fumed Lord Arnav.

"But it's hilarious to imagine there was!" she giggled and the other ladies found it hard to suppress their own laughter at the image Kushi had created in their minds: of a suit-donned, grimacing Lord Arnav, bent over a cloth while his hands worked with the thread and needle and beads too tiny for his profuse strong fingers.

Annoyed to speechlessness, Lord Arnav stood up and stormed out of the room, shooting a glance at Kushi who sat smiling victoriously at Lady Anjali and Nani.

As he stepped towards the stairway, a secret smirk appeared on his shadowed face. Think you can outsmart me, kitten. Ease not, for I will catch you tomorrow at the Industry. There you won't have Di or Nani or your sweet Jiji to rescue you.