NOVEL*Hiding behind a Stranger*Historical fiction-PART 2-Chap 20-31 - Page 2

Chapter 27 part 2 ...

'My lovely Sahiba... where have you sent that horse off to?' a voice had suddenly crept up from behind.

A shudder bolting through her spine, Heera spun around - her lips turning white and then blue in icy terror. 'Khalil?' God! Why? Why? Why? Why hadn't she heard him sneaking up from behind? Her morale tumbling into the deepest pits of despair, she tried to come up with some excuse. Any excuse. 'I... I...'

But when his glares took on their cruellest form, her senses failed her terribly 'I was...'

'One soldier dosed off... so you took it that WE ARE ALL fools?' Turning to the rest of his men who'd joined him, he roared an order 'Go chase that horse and bring it back... I want to know what she's been up to!' He then reverted his undivided care to the prisoner in front 'Sahiba, I've been unusually well-behaved in your presence so far... I might have to show you what I am truly capable of!'

All of a sudden, his fists went for her neck, holding her throat in a vice grip as he began dragging her away to a secluded spot.

The chase...

'No... no... don't slow... don't stop...' he whipped the reins harder - but his second horse would not move any faster. In fact, if it was not brought to a halt soon, its legs would collapse.

Akbar HAD to get off and let the animals take a breather. Only then, could he hop back on Bahadur and resume the chase.

Tough as it was for him to admit, it was already time for another break - with no luck so far.

These forests had been his playground for most of his youth - he knew them better than anyone else. Yet, he hadn't been able to track down either Khalil or the Parnagarhis. Every drag mark, every trail, every campfire, had led to bandits, tribals or villagers. Having encountered nothing but failure, hour after hour, in stretch after stretch of these jungles, the chase was beginning to feel endless - as though they were riding in circles.

'AIII KHUDAAA...' bellowed the loudest guttural yell from his lungs, rattling the silence of the wilderness.

Snapped awake from a fuzzy spell of exhaustion, the men watched the heartfelt display with sympathy. It was upsetting to witness an otherwise respectable grown man on the brink of a breakdown, upsetting to hear those cries of dejection from someone who obviously feared he was about to lose his everything.

Unmindful of the sentiments of his followers however, Akbar slumped forward on his steed - unable to combat the overpowering sense of desolation. The only other instance in his life that he could remember feeling so helpless was when he lay on a sick bed as a dying child, realising that his mother would never return.

'Khuda... have I not been a dutiful servant of yours? Have my prayers ever been half-hearted? Then... why? You've blessed me with success in every other venture... but, when it comes to my life's most important venture, I can't see success... why? I challenged Huzoor that I would stop Khalil... that I would find the Sahiba... but...' In a spurt of hysteria, he glimpsed up, questioning Mother Nature for being nothing but a mute witness to his plight 'Tell me... they ARE here somewhere, are they not? In a remote corner of your dense jungles? My men think I may be losing my mind... am I really going mad?'

'No...' Drawing in a heavy breath, he rubbed his face hard 'I'm not going mad... I know what I feel... and my instincts have never been wrong... something's happening and I have to stop it... I will stop it... come what may!'

Without further delay, the young man jumped off his steed to give it respite from his weight, his men quickly following suit.

He grabbed his hip flask and stepped aside for some solitude. Tilting his head back, he closed his eyes, taking one sip after another, letting the drink refresh his parched throat.

But when he came to his third gulp, he froze. His eyes remained shut, the drink sitting in his mouth. His senses had just picked up on a faint difference in Bahadur's soft whinny. It was faint, but it was 'different'.

Akbar waited, wondering if it conveyed something, not even swallowing the mouthful in case he missed out on any other telling signs. And slowly but surely, a couple of other horses behaved in similar fashion - breaking out into low noises - the noises they made whenever they recognised one of their 'own', out there in the distance.

But, how could it be? One of HIS horses? Out there?

'Shhh...' Akbar put his palm up.

His men fell quiet.

And a few moments later, the hooves were heard.

'Go on, Bahadur...' he let out a sharp whistle 'go bring it back here...'

Shuffling its hooves on its spot, as if warming up for a game, Bahadur vanished into the darkness, to obey its master's wish.

One...

Two...

Three...

Four...

Five...

By the time the young man's fingers had counted to forty, Bahadur was visible again, returning with another steed by its side.

'The Marwai racer? The Sahiba's horse?' Akbar's eyes widened 'Without a rider?'

As his group began crowding around him to get a better idea of the developments, he gave Bahadur a quick pat that translated to 'Thank you', before turning around to catch the reins of the Marwari racer.

'What are you doing here alone, my boy?' he brushed its neck in order to calm the nervous horse down, trying not to let his own anxieties show 'Where's your rider and...' his glances fell upon the bright yellow kerchief tied to its reins 'What's that?'

Akbar was tempted to frantically yank open its knots to find out what the kerchief contained. But when he brought the cloth closer, he stopped. The lavender perfume wafting from its folds was familiar.

His heart stood still. 'It's hers'

Then, as if to compensate for the few missed beats, his pulse started racing stronger than ever - pushing him to make haste.

Loosening its knots, he opened the kerchief.

'H...E...L...P...'

Was scribbled in both, Urdu and Marwari.

His spirits sank. 'No... no... no... Allah please... no!'

However, everything drawn below the 'Help' was barely legible - smudged with kohl and red dye. All he could make out was that they were directions of some sort.

Obviously, the message was a distraught cry for help - a reflection of the grave danger she must be in. No wonder he'd been feeling so restless!

He HAD to rush to her. RIGHT NOW!

But, decoding these directions would take a while. And he did not have 'a while'.

Wiping the fresh sweat forming on his temple, Akbar looked up, into the Marwari Racer's long eyes. 'My friend' he whispered, his voice overwrought with emotion 'You will take me to her, wouldn't you?'

The Marwari racer lowered its head, as though in submission to his orders.

'COME ON MEN!'

The next instant, Akbar had seized his bow and strapped the quiver across his shoulder 'Pick your weapons... they've got to be nearby...' Grabbing onto the reins, he flung himself atop Bahadur in one agile leap 'we have to ride faster than the wind'

And faster than the wind was how fast he rode...

In Isolation...

On bruised elbows, she dragged herself behind, another excruciating inch. But her back had come up against a rock. There was no space left to retreat to. And she knew the game was up. With all her ploys used up, her end was near.

Worn-out and spent, Heera let her body fall back on the rubble in defeat. She had attempted to run, she had attempted to hide. She had kicked him off, and scratched at his eyes. She'd tried reaching for the knife tucked behind her skirt, to slice his throat. And when that had failed too, she'd tried bringing the poison ring close to her lips to take her own life. However, her aggressor being far bigger and bulkier in comparison, meant that all those efforts had been thwarted right away.

After having fought long and hard, the young lady could fight him no more.

'No... please no... please... please...' feeble voices in her head continued sobbing in protest. But even they were dying a slow death. Why, even her tears had long dried up.

'I'll teach you a lesson...' Khalil repeated on and on, as he pinned her down - wanting to avenge his insult ever since his men had lost that Marwari Racer in pursuit. 'I'll make you suffer...'

Nevertheless, she heard nothing. Her mind had essentially shut down, running off to a place that was beyond dismay and shock - to a place where she could feel nothing, any longer. Maybe it was so that she could stop listening to his ugly language. Maybe it was so that she would become totally oblivious to the nightmare that was advancing towards her.

It was only a matter of time before her body would give up its ghost too.

For a fleeting moment, a soft flash drifted in front of her eyes, wherein she saw the faces of her loved ones. Jiji. Bapusa. Her people. Her home. Kakasa. Kakisa.

'Just stay safe, Sahiba...'

Her glimpses weakly shifted towards her right hand. 'Please ma... please let me reach for the poison ring...'

Alas, he had her wrists firmly fastened to the ground.

'Please ma... the poison ring, at least...'

The silhouettes of the tall trees that were miles and miles above her head, started descending upon her.

Lower.

Lower.

And lower.

Till the entire world came crashing to the bottom, killing with it, the last embers of fire that remained in her spirit.

The chase...

'I can see it' they pointed below, where the forests dipped down, rolling into lowland

'I can see it too...'

'Yes...'

'That's got to be them!'

Akbar had spotted the dimly-lit camp too - instants ago. And every gallop that drove him nearer, allowed him to observe more of its scenes.

All of a sudden, his attention was jolted towards a mild scuffle in an isolated part of the camp, behind the campfires. Through the flames of his torch, when his blazing eyes realised what was going on, when he realised who the two shadows could belong to, his brows narrowed into the fiercest glare.

'YA ALLAAAH...' An explosive anger rumbled from his core, tearing through his body 'Khalil...' he snarled through his teeth like a man possessed, charging ahead to stop the kind of horrors that he guessed Khalil was trying to inflict upon his woman 'NOOO!'

In a frenzy he kicked his horse harder to speed it up - possibly hurting Bahadur for the first time ever. 'I am sorry...' he instantly stroked the animal's side when it flinched 'I was reckless... but only because it's a matter of your Sahiba's life and death... please understand, my friend'

Bahadur understood very well - and accelerated its legs to breakneck speed thereafter.

'Sahib, should we dash forth?' enquired his men as they followed him closely

'Should we warn them by blowing the horn? Or shooting a fire arrow in the air?'

'Should we attack?'

'Should we move ahead stealthily?'

'No...' he shook his head. With the Sahiba as Khalil's hostage, with her being completely at his mercy, none of these suggestions were quick enough or safe enough to stop what was happening.

He had to stop Khalil NOW. From HERE.

Letting go of the reins while on full gallop, he drew an arrow from his quiver, placed it against the string and drew the bow back 'Bahadur, you will have to steer yourself... gallop steady... and straight...'

When his group realised what their Ustaad was about to do, they were baffled. Here they were, holding onto their weapons, waiting for the signal to attack - but, he was going to take aim from hundreds of yards away? When the light was so poor? When the terrain was so uneven? When there were so many obstructions? When the Sahiba and Khalil were so difficult to tell apart? What if his aim missed? What if it hit her instead?

'Ya Allah...' they jointly broke out into gasps and prayers. 'Careful'

For Akbar though, the sounds of their gasps were no longer audible, like how the surrounding branches and leaves were no longer visible. He was in a world of his own, where all he could see was the enemy - a hawk focussing on its prey.

Every muscle was tense, as his head arched forwards, waiting for the right moment to arrive, so he could release the arrow.

Suddenly, from the lower edge of his eye he noticed a sharp boulder coming up on the way. Darn! Darn! Darn! Darn! Darn! This was not ideal at all. He would have to take aim exactly when Bahadur would be taking a huge leap.

The stress was severe. Nervous sweat trickled down his hair, leaving damp trails along his jawline and neck. Yet, his shoulders and wrists stayed firm as rock.

And a split flash before the boulder came, before his legs tightened around the saddle to make the leap, his fingers let go!

TWAAA NNN GGG!!!!

He had just taken the most dangerous aim of his life mid-air!

By the time he'd landed back on solid ground, everything came to a grinding halt!

Then, five edgy beats later, a piercing howl of pain echoed aloud. A man's howl. Khalil had been hit.

Having held his breath back all that while, Akbar was finally able to exhale in relief 'Thank you... oh Khuda!'

'What a feat, Ustaad Sahib!'

Cheered his men in unison, still reeling from what they'd witnessed. Watching an achievement so remarkable, first-hand, had made this entire backbreaking chase worthwhile! No wonder their master was so revered! 'Mashallah!'

Not surprisingly however, the celebrations were short-lived. The howls-of-pain had set off an alarm within the camp.

The poor Parnagarhis had no any idea what was happening - but the rest of the soldiers had already drawn weapons, mounted horses and hollered angry war cries.

'THERE...' Khalil hissed orders at his men, harbouring a strong suspicion as to who this surprise attacker might be 'they're hiding up there... behind those trees... KILL THEM ALL!'

As their enemy began advancing upwards in their direction, Akbar's supporters exchanged terse glimpses 'What do you want us to do, Sahib?'

'I'd promised our Huzoor that I wouldn't let this escalate to a war... so, we keep them alive if we can... I'll deal with the archers first...you men can tackle the swordsmen...'

The motive behind his instructions were clear. After all, it was his 10 men against Khalil's 50. So, as the strongest warrior of his lot, he wanted to take down as many of them as he could at first, in order to even the clash for his students.

'But remember...' a vengeful half-smile crept through Akbar's lips "I' deal with Khalil!'

'Yes Sahib...'

His troops immediately extinguished the flame torches - becoming invisible to the enemy, as they lay in wait behind the trees.

Then, Akbar drew three rings near Bahadur's ears. 'Circles'

And the horse blitzed ahead, circling around the camp like the invisible whirlwind - while its mounted warrior played his part. Camouflaged by trees and strategically taking aim from a higher elevation, Akbar effortlessly shot arrow after arrow. Sometimes two. Sometimes three at one go.

By the time Khalil's archers would locate their attacker, he would already be gone from there. By the time they'd take aim, the flesh in their arms and shoulders would already be slashed open by Akbar's lethal arrows.

With more than half of Khalil's regiment thus rendered useless, it didn't take long for the remaining few to be subdued by Ustaad's capable students.

A brief while later...

His lungs were still short of breath from the gruelling combat, when his feet were brought to slow faltering stop on the isolated spot.

The last month had mostly been sheer hell for the young man - his days filled with raging inner turmoil, his nights sleepless and lonely. The past 72 hours he'd spent like a panic-stricken lunatic - battling hunger, thirst, injuries and uncertainty - so much so that his body was on the verge of burnout.

Yet, it was these last ten steps towards her lifeless form that were the toughest part of this entire journey.

A fleeting glimpse at her attire, and Akbar knew that he had gotten to her before Khalil could...

But then, there was no movement whatsoever. Even her chest didn't seem to be rising!

'NOOO... no... no...' his lips parted in shock, as he instinctively reached out for her wrists to check for a pulse. But he couldn't feel much. 'No... it can't be!'

There weren't signs of stabs, or cuts, or blood - which hopefully meant she wasn't gravely hurt. 'She should be fine... she'll be fine, right?' he nervously rubbed his mouth 'Yes, she'll be fine'

He would NOT let his spirits sink. Not Now. Not after all this!

Mildly reassured, he bent low to get a better look, and it was then that the bruises on her cheeks, neck, arms and feet became more evident - telling him the very scary story of what'd happened.

'God!' his voice shuddered, thick with emotion. What had they done to her? What had they reduced her to?

Having always known her as a lady of position and power, having always seen her in such a dignified form - it ripped his heart to pieces to find her in such a state, so humiliated and battered.

'I'm sorry Sahiba...' The lump in his throat too hard to swallow, Akbar hesitantly crouched on the rubble, kneeling beside her. The tips of his fingers uncurled, about to check the sides of her neck for signs of life. However, his hand paused midway - moving closer only when he rallied some of his lost confidence again.

'Thank you... thank you, Ai Khuda!' A glimmer of hope spread across his features. There was a pulse! She was alive! Part of the angst in his frowns receded.

Yes, she was weak and pale. Yes, she was cold. Yes she'd been bruised, battered and humiliated. But the Sahiba was strong. She would heal from this ordeal. HE would help her heal. He would avenge the abuse and humiliation. 'Yes, I will...'

Before all that though, she needed warmth and medical care first.

Turning around, Akbar observed the camp that lay a short distance away. Her guards were heavily injured and the maids seemed too tired to be able to carry her over.

He clicked his fingers at his men, indicating towards a large sack beside their feet 'My bag'

Once the sack was brought over, the young man removed a large shawl from within and flipped it open. With tender palms, he then draped it over her clothes.

'Lord...' his chest heaved as he took in a deep breath - her folks were going to frown upon this. But it had to be done. Tucking his left hand under the arch of the neck, he carried her up. Cradling her limp body within his arms, he thus walked towards the crowded camp, seeking out its tents to shelter her from the open air.

'Khan Sahib?' the Parnagarhis' exclaimed - too dumbstruck by what they were seeing to sigh in relief yet.

The poor people hadn't even come to terms with the frenzied attack by Khalil, or gotten over Gokul's death - when their baisa had been mercilessly dragged away from their presence. And while they were still worrying themselves to death over their mistress' safety, a second attack had followed.

Now that Khalil's forces had been vanquished, their baisa's body had resurfaced in the arms of a man they never imagined they'd meet again. 'Khan Sahib?'

What was this businessman from Aidabad doing here, in the middle of nowhere at this time of night, dressed in thick armour? And how had his appearance taken on such a formidable edge that he somehow even dwarfed Khalil's frightening personality as he walked past?

Was it HE who had led the second attack?

Impossible! Maybe he'd hired some very efficient soldiers to do the job for him.

So, did that mean that Khan Sahib also harboured enmity towards this monster?

But, how did he know how to find them here? And why did he risk his life to seek them out? Was he doing it for HER? For their baisa? Was it true then - the stories that were being spoken about Harka baisa and Khan Sahib?

'USTAAAD!'

Khalil watched the happenings quietly

Forced to kneel on the floor as a mark of defeat - blood from open wounds soaked his tunic, his reddened eyes spewed volumes of hatred with every passing blink. But even in that disgraced condition, even as envy shook him senseless, he had to admit - he was taken aback. Taken aback - by how the mentor had managed all this, and more importantly, by what he was currently witnessing!

Ustaad with the Sahiba?

So THIS was what his obsession with Parnagarh was all about? Petty feelings? 'Wait till I...'

But with not so much as a second glance at any of those shocked stares being directed at him, Akbar continued on his way to the nearest empty tent. Holding onto his precious one in a secure embrace, he ducked under the flaps, and stepped inside to lay her upon clean bedding.

The tent...

Away from the bright campfires and from the constant glare of a hundred pairs of watchful eyes, it felt like a different world within the small bounds of this tent - so dark and so quiet. Maybe that was why her pale skin appeared paler, and her stillness more blatant now.

Two weeks ago, he thought he'd never see her again. Two weeks later, here she was, so close to him, unaware that her vulnerably cold body was deriving warmth from his. Unaware that the very man who'd ingloriously turned her away had returned to pull her out from the jaws of evil and death. Unaware that he'd risked everything, vowing to protect her from these sinister forces forever.

Is that why she looked so peaceful, as she slept in his arms?

'Not asleep... unconscious...' Akbar soon corrected himself, realising that he'd been holding her for a few moments longer than he must.

Carefully putting her down on the bedding, the young man was about to stand up to leave. However before he could do so, he noticed, by chance, that the scratches on her left cheek were turning blueish. The sight tugged very hard at his chest.

'I am sorry for all that you've been through, Sahiba...' he knelt beside her, subconsciously putting his hand forth, to inspect how bad the bruise was - when his gazes fell upon his own palms. They were grubby, dusty, callused, bleeding. He observed her - even in this poorly state, there was an ethereal quality about her. Was it right to tarnish her skin by touching her now? Without her permission? After how they'd parted?

How ironical though that he'd had no such reservations when he'd touched her the last time, at the canal.

And what was worse, the only memoir he'd left her from that moving encounter was an unanswered question -

'I'm referring to... all that... happened between us, Khan Sahib... you can't recall anything else? Anything you spoke... or...'

His gazes turned softer than dew as he remembered how her voice had choked up with grief when she'd put forth that question to him.

'I'm sorry I turned you away then... but... I'll answer your question today...'

Gently surprised by his decision to give her the reply she was rightfully owed now, a faint smile was born on his lips 'you asked, if I recall what happened between us?'

With a warm frown, Akbar led his thumb towards her chin, letting it slowly drift over, onto her cheeks. Caressing the silk of their skin, he rested his temple against the ornament at the parting of her forehead, the Borla - thus mirroring their touching encounter at the canal.

'Recall what happened between us?' he sighed a bittersweet sigh - as caged emotions that'd been banging away at the doors, finally broke free - soaring upwards, taking him along, for a brief yet beautiful journey 'Sahiba, there's nothing else that I've been able to recall so fondly, ever since...'

There! He'd answered her question now. Of course, he was more than happy to answer her question, again, when she awoke - but he was aware that SHE would not be prepared to listen to it then.

Having enjoyed the rare feel of a few intense heartbeats - a feeling he didn't know if or when he'd be able to feel in her company again - Akbar stood up with a resigned sigh. A moment thereafter, he left her side and stepped out - to send for the Hakim and to tend to several other duties that needed tending to.

CHAPTER 28

Chapter 29

'Lies, lies and more lies!'

He waited for her fit of laughter to fizzle out - a short, yet unpleasant wait - so that he could disclose the grave circumstances that had compelled him to 'lie, lie and lie'.

But before he could get a word in, he was stopped. By her glares. Chilling glares. He also noticed how she'd tightened the grip around the weapon's handle again - and strangely, her fingers were not quivering this time.

'You are right...' Heera recited quite calmly 'Khalil is NOTHING like you...'

'What?' frowned Akbar, studying the sudden change in her behaviour. The inconsolable 16 year old she'd turned into for a short while, had been left behind, somewhere. The person now facing him was a lady - a lady who'd somehow regained most of her composure. 'Sahiba...'

'Khalil is NOTHING like you because he's loud mouthed and brash... YOU, on the other hand...' her tone was oozing sarcasm 'you're an intelligence officer... a smooth operator... cunning and sly... isn't that why everyone has heard of Khalil's army, but no one's heard of you? He is dangerous, but he is a known enemy... we are aware of what to expect from him!' she shrugged 'But, YOU are an unknown enemy - the kinds that are far more destructive... like the snakes that lurk in the bushes... quiet... sneaky...' her lips curved into a dry smile 'difficult to tell how those snakes would strike... or how deadly their strikes would be... THAT's how they manage to outwit enemies! I... I... mean... princes from various kingdoms tried... influential businessman tried... many powerful men tried... Khalil's army tried... but...' she tut-tutted 'but none other than Ustaad Sahib could become the Mansabdar of Parnagarh! Isn't that what your friends outside were celebrating about?'

'Oh LORDDD!'
Since he could not scream aloud in frustration, he had to resort to exhaling hard to let out steam. If only he'd stopped his men earlier. If only she hadn't heard all that. If only. If only. If only 'Urgh!'
He had a mountain-load of explaining to do - where was he even supposed to start? 'Sahiba...' His lips tensed up, into a straight line.

However, her eyes had narrowed, turning her glares deadlier - deadly enough to stop a man twice her size, in his tracks. And while her eyes had turned stormy, the rest of her remained as 'still' as a marble statue, entirely detached from her surroundings. Stock-still.

DECEPTIVELY still!

The next instant, he knew! 'No'


WHOOOSH!

Akbar jerked his shoulder just in time, avoiding the blade that came lurching towards him. 'Sahiba... stop...'

'MANSABDAR? Y... you betrayer...' She raised the weapon once more, bringing it down in a flash 'You've taken away everything from me and my people... our homes... our lands... our pride... and you used ME to do it!!'

'Sahiba... I am not interested in Parnagarh... or in gaining power...' he angled sideways a little - keeping a watchful glance upon her, and another one upon the metal that'd just brushed past the skin on his arm 'trust me... I did this for...'

'I am supposed to protect my people...' she cut short his explanations with another swift attack 'but I... I'm the one who's let them down... and because of you...'

WHOOOSH!

'Sahiba! This is risky... the force with which you're handling that blade, it's going to cut your palm... please put it down...'


'What? MY palm?' How smug of him to preach about HER safety, when HE was the one facing the sharp end of the blade! It only made her feel smaller than she already felt!
Embittered, Heera sliced the knife against his blurry profile again.

And again.

But he dodged her attempts with such ease - it was as though he already knew where she would aim for, even before she actually took aim.

'You back-stabber'



'That is ENOUGH!'
Having finally slapped his fingers around her right wrist, and then around her left hand, Akbar restrained her within the might of his clasp. He hadn't wanted it to come to this, but she'd left him no option.

Smouldering in silent anger, Heera whimpered a hurried prayer as she watched his profile closing in on her - the profile of a cruel man who'd given rise to several violent tempered beasts like Khalil.

She hadn't been able to harm a single hair on his head - just as she feared. But she had provoked him, well and truly. He'd avenge his insults now - possibly by grabbing that knife and driving it right into the core of her chest! Evil men might hide their natures well, but their volcanic tempers eventually got the better of them - wasn't that always the case?
'Be done with it... please...' she fervently wished.
At least that way, she would be free - free from living an eternal hell, from living in eternal pain and from suffering eternal humiliation in front of her people.

She waited for that 'freedom' to come. But it didn't come.

Instead, he took a step closer.

What was he planning to do? Shake her hard? Scream at her face? Grab her neck and strangulate her till her skin went blue?
'Call yourself a man?' she tried to provoke him further - hoping to bring it all to a quick and permanent end 'Well... real men don't cheat orphans, who've already lost everything... you're a cold-blooded impostor... that's who you are!'

She waited for him to react furiously. And waited some more.

But the violent outburst never happened.

Why, even the most delicate glass bangle on her wrist hadn't cracked yet.

A heated moment passed in silence. And another. And another. Till she could take it no more. Her heart had started pulsing against her ribs erratically - its flutters unquiet and uneasy. Why wasn't he doing anything? What was going on in his mind? If she'd looked directly into his eyes, she might have found an answer then. But she didn't want to look into them - not once since his admission 'Yes, I am the one they call Ustaad'
And thankfully, today, she couldn't make out most of his features anyway.

But what she COULD make out, was that his eyes were on her, studying her closely.

'Let go...' Desperate to free herself from the shackles of his grip, Heera yanked her wrist away. Twice. Thrice. When that didn't work, she tried wriggling out of his grip.


However, Akbar didn't let her go. He'd held her hand firmly, with the weapon pointing downwards.
It wasn't ideal. Restraining a lady - even if for her own safety - was not something he was comfortable doing. All the more so, because it was HER.
But with the Sahiba not listening to what he had to say, there was no other means to keep the situation safe for them BOTH!

And he knew he was right to restrain her when her first rush of breath swept against his chest. Her breathing was fast and feverish - reflecting the extent of rage still bottled within her petite body. So much so that her limbs were shaking. The lady was overwrought! That bottled-in rage had to be brought under control, before it consumed them both. 'Sahiba... the knife handle's too short... you've already cut your fingers twice... PLEASE drop the weapon... and I'll release of your wrists...'

Heera continued to stare into oblivion. There was no strength left in her arms, but the fingers stubbornly held onto the knife.

'Sahiba, you have no idea what I've been through just to keep you alive and safe... the LAST thing I want, is for you to hurt yourself... so, please drop the weapon...'

Alas. There was no reaction from her, whatsoever.

'FINE... you want to do it... at least do it right!'
Releasing her wrists, the young man abruptly drew his own knife from the cummerbund - a proper weapon of combat - and handed it over to her. 'At least this one has a better handle... wouldn't cut you...'

No, it wasn't a show of bravado. Nor was he being rash. All he was doing was offering her a means to vent. Despite her fit of frenzy, he was now positive that she was not out to take his life. In fact, it'd become obvious to him as soon as he spotted the flimsy blade she was using - it wouldn't so much as scratch his armour and an intelligent lady like the Sahiba would've realised that too. Besides, being a Hakim Sahiba herself, she would've aimed straight for his exposed neck, if she wanted to take his life.

It was 'hurt' she wanted to vent. So, he decided to take the gamble and let her vent the hurt. Maybe if she punished him, maybe if he bore a couple of her angry slashes quietly, it would thaw her heart, and get her to at least listen to him 'Go ahead, Sahiba...'

As soon as she felt the lethal blade in her hand, the young lady slashed it upwards, expecting him to duck.

However, the man didn't flinch. Instead, he stood there, overshadowing her frame, with his hands tied behind his back.

She swung it towards the outline of his neck, stopping just beside the life-giving veins that throbbed below his jaw.

No. Still no audible movement from him.

Sticking the cold metal upon his skin, she poked it through.

A blob of blood came trickling forth. The red droplets trailed along the handle, and onto the tip of her fingers.

She noted how the palm she'd managed to keep steady so far, was quivering again.

But his breath remained as tranquil as the ocean.

'God!' The more agitated she got, the calmer he seemed to get. And it grated against her already-bruised ego. 'What... what do you think... what are you trying to prove?'

'If you are prepared to listen... I'll prove to you that the last thing I wanted to be, was a Mansabdar!'

'What?'

'It IS for your sake that I became one, Sahiba!'

'Oh?' The young lady darted him a harsh frown - to show him how ridiculous she thought his justification was.

'It may be hard for you to believe this... but, I'm not interested in power and fame... I never was interested in the iron ores of Parnagarh, never will be in future either... I became the Mansabdar of Parnagarh because that was the ONLY way I could save your life...'

A very slow spiteful smirk escaped her pale lips 'How noble!'

'Sahiba, I've known the Shehzaade for long... I am quite close to him. If I wanted, I could have governed several towns... owned numerous mansions... had plenty of slaves... but I've always lived a simple life...' he paused. The authority in his tone dissolved as his approach turned gentler 'I have always lived a simple life in Aidabad, as a horse trader...'

The man was trying to reach out to her drowning spirit, but the very mention of the place 'Aidabad' actually pushed her further underwater.

'Aidabad?' Unwanted memories returned. Unresolved hurt resurfaced. Something inside her snapped again 'Oh, how silly of me... I assumed that Aidabad was part of an act too... a cover-up!'

Contempt had darkened her features, but Akbar tried not to be weighed down.
'A cover-up? An act?' his jaws tightened with emotion, as he debated what he must say, how far must he say and how he must say it. 'Not all of it could be an act, could it?'

'Not all of it could be an act, could it?' An angry gasp escaped her lips, but Heera wouldn't believe the sentence - not one word of it. 'After what I've seen now... ALL of it could very well be an act! Your simple life... your simple haveli... your business... everything...'

Soon, she broke out into another fit of laughter. Or at least she presumed she was laughing - only this instance, her voice was actually choking with grief 'I... I... I had my doubts... plenty of doubts... but, I didn't pay proper heed... and it turns out... that you're the chief intelligence officer himself!'
She laughed louder, till her voice disintegrated into weak murmurs, and her smiles were tinted with tears 'Who knows how many innocent lives you might have destroyed... how many homes you have looted...' she bit the insides of her lip to stop them from quivering 'who knows how many women you might have used... preyed upon... argh' she abruptly caught her head 'I... I...'

'What's happening?'
The lady was tilting heavily to one side. Another dizzy spell, perhaps?

Untying his hands, Akbar quickly grabbed her by her arm, wondering if she wanted to take a seat. However, it soon became evident she was in no mood to calmly sit down yet. So, he helped her stand upright, by continuing to support her arm

'Sahiba?' checking to see if she was fine, he observed her features from close quarters, his gazes brimming with concern and tenderness.

Up until an instant ago, she couldn't bear to look him in the face - and here she was, unwittingly using his assistance to stay afloat. Ironical indeed! But one of the few ironies in life he had no complaints about.

Just like the other bittersweet irony where his heartbeats that'd stayed calm until an instant ago, despite a knife being stuck at his throat - had now started quickening.

He made a weak attempt to fight the tremors off. Alas. The stillness within had been disturbed. Maybe it was spurred by the subconscious belief that she needed him to support herself - even if only temporarily. But as he held her, barely a hair's breadth apart, it set off a hush rumble of feelings - dormant feelings that'd otherwise been shut down, fires that he'd deliberately suppressed, ever since their separation.

The proximity, the touch of her soft skin beneath his hard palms, the warmth of her breath breathing life into his stony chest - the fires that'd gone cold were being stoked into a flame, bright and warm.

'Ai Khuda...' he sighed, interrupting the intense silence. No point lingering on thoughts that were going nowhere. No point encouraging sentiments that were going to remain unrequited.
Nonetheless, before he would shut those doors and douse the fire again, there was one last thing he wanted to say - something important, for which he might not find the opportunity or the nerve, once he returned to his right mind.

Waiting for her to regain some form of normalcy, the young man bent low, near her ears - his palms tenderly nestled around her arms 'Sahiba...' he whispered 'believe me when I say I've never destroyed the lives of innocent people... believe me when I say, I've never preyed upon any woman... in fact... in all my life, there is no other woman I've interacted closely with...' his voice cracked into a husky murmur 'I have touched, no woman...' his eyelids gently shut 'no woman, except one... this is the truth... I swear on Allah's name...'

He paused for a bit. The edge of his jaw had brushed past her ear. It was not intentional. But now that it had happened, he didn't regret it. Rather, it made him want to go on. 'Heera...'

A shudder rose from the low of her back making its way right up to her neck, causing her heart to skip more beats than she could care to count. She didn't realise when her fingers had lost their will and strength - but, the weapon eventually fell from her grip onto the soft Earth below.

'There is no other woman I've interacted closely with...' It was the most reassuring voice she'd ever heard, telling her the most reassuring set of sentences - a voice that could somehow sound manly yet soft, assertive yet affectionate, profound yet sincere.
'I have touched no woman... except one!' Had he just admitted his involvement in the moments they'd shared at the canal? Had he just acknowledged their relationship? Today? After everything?
And why had he decided to call her by name at this juncture? 'Heera...' the husky whisper was exactly how she used to imagine it would sound, had Khan Sahib actually uttered it.
But THAT was Khan Sahib - a man she had adored. THIS was a stranger she couldn't recognise. Ustaad!

Spinning around, Heera promptly liberated herself from his clasp and broke the spell before it would threaten to suck her in. Grappling at the folds and flaps of the tent wall, she stumbled towards a pot of water nearby and splashed handfuls on her face - forcing her mind to step out from the attacks of dizziness and bouts of throbbing headache.
'No I don't believe you, Ustaad Sahib...' she confronted him with renewed vigour, her sharp features glistening from the droplets of water that were dripping down in small trickles 'not one bit... since you've become the Mansabdar, you need me on your side, so that you have the support of the Parnagarhis... that's all... announcing that you returned to save my life is the perfect excuse for it!'

'What?' Akbar huffed. In spite of what he'd just admitted out loud, THIS was what she chose to deduce about him? 'You think I'm doing this for the support of 400 Hindu families? I became the Mansabdar of Parnagarh ONLY AND ONLY because I needed the title to save your life...' He raised his fingers, not far from her face, where she could watch them - before he began counting 'I utilised all of the goodwill I've collected over the past many years... displeased my Huzoor... and cut a deal with him... so that...'

'ONE, he would spare your people's lives and homes...'

'TWO, he would spare most of your lands...'

'THREE, no harm would come to you from the armies of Khalil if I'm... not here tomorrow...'
He dropped his counting hand midway - what was the point? She wasn't even TRYING to be convinced!

'So, you expect me to believe that you've returned so gloriously to save my life? After turning me away? When you were aware of the kind of risks I faced?'

'I turned you away then because...' he pointed at his chest 'I live a very dangerous life myself... and, you had people to care for you... but, I heard the situation changed... with the threat now looming over you... I couldn't sit back and watch you be harmed!'

By the end of that statement, his volume had risen - so much so that he could hear himself.
Crunching his brows, Akbar turned aside. What was he doing? She was dealing with the biggest betrayal of her life. She needed time to get over it - maybe weeks, months, years. Maybe never at all. Who knew? Either way, she wasn't going to believe him. Not so soon. And handling this issue with impatience would only worsen the situation!

Giving himself a while to simmer down, he tried a different approach - one she might relate better to 'I have no interest in Parnagarh whatsoever... it was yours to control and will remain so... that is a promise!'
He waited.
But, no. Not even that promise about her dear Parnagarh could get her to react. Taking a step closer, he held up both hands 'Can you see these?'

Guessing from her blank stares that she could not see what he was showing, he lifted her fingers, against her will - and placed them on his palms, to make sure she could 'feel' what he wanted to show 'You can recognise what these cuts are... and how they happen...'

Heera hurriedly recoiled her hand. Yes she recognised what they were and how they happened - bleeding calluses from riding for too long. However, she didn't want to 'feel' anything anymore - let alone sympathy for this man. She didn't want to believe in anyone anymore. Because, those who believed, were the ones that ended up getting the most hurt!

'Sahiba... I've been a rider most of my life... and yet... my skin could not take the strain - tugging at those coarse reins like a madman, hour after hour, day after day, to get to you, before Khalil could harm you... these marks are not a lie, are they?' he signalled towards the tent exit 'if you go outside, you'll witness how exhausted my men are... they risked their lives for your sake... my horses are barely alive... THOSE scenes are not an act, are they?'


'Alright... Ustaad Sahib' hissed the young lady.
The man was busy hammering away at his justifications. Now, she wanted him to see HER side - she wanted him to realise why his words weren't affecting her much.
'Let me get your story straight...' she raised her fingers, up in the air, just like he had, before she began counting -

'A girl had just lost her home and family... she was running for her life... ONE, you act kind by offering her people shelter and support...'

'TWO, you were involved with her enemies... the very men who murdered her sister - but you hid it... so you could spy on her group...'

'THREE, you faked concern... and used her vulnerability, only so you could g... gain infor... inf... information...' the fresh lump that'd formed in her throat was impossible to ignore. It'd become painful enough that she had to pause and swallow hard before resuming her narration. What a powerful slush of sentiments attraction-and-rejection, trust-and-betrayal were. So powerful, that any amount of bitterness seemed incapable of wiping them clean! 'You used her to gain information!'

'FOUR... once you got what you wanted, you turned her away with no answers...'

'Then, you sneaked into her home... behind her back...'

'Took away the one thing that could have saved her pride!'

'Traded off part of her lands... made yourself the Mansabdar of the rest of it... all of this, WITHOUT her knowledge...'

'And finally, announce a wedding where she's expected to comply... like she was a rag doll with no emotions of her own?'

Suddenly, there were no fingers left to count his list of crimes against her! It drove home the point hardest - that she'd been such a fool to have trusted him at all! 'TELL ME Ustaad Sahib...' her eyes welled up with a new batch of tears 'tell me all of this is NOT a lie!'



'Tell me all of this is NOT a lie!'
What an effective argument the Sahiba had come up with. A list of questions that would've left the best debater tongue-tied - and this young man was a mere soldier with no knack for words.
So far, he had tried to explain as well as he could, why he'd done what he had done. He'd been gentle. Tactful. Assertive. Reassuring. Reasonable. Loud. He'd shown proof. But none of it had worked. And while he didn't blame her for not believing him, he really didn't know how else to convince a lady. Maybe give her space and time?

Nevertheless, whether she needed space and time or not, he definitely did. For this was as much agony as his heart could take in a day.

It'd already been bleeding from her earlier accusations. These fresh allegations against his deeds and his character - were another stab in his chest. A fatal stab. And this instance, not because she was 'wrong' about him, but because she was mostly 'right'. Making it near-impossible to defend himself. Thus reducing the essence of every sacrifice he'd made for her, to nothing!

And for this, he had no one to blame but himself - he had wronged her and he was paying the price for it.

Understandably, not everything that she'd inferred about Ustaad Akbar Mahmoud Khan was true. However, in order to show her the real picture, in order to make her see HIS side of the story, Akbar would have to take her on a journey with him, to a lifetime ago from where it'd all started - introduce her to a sick abused deserted hungry little 11 year old boy.
But, it was obvious that she was in no state to make that personal journey with him today. And he would not allow that very troubled part of his life be ridiculed and dismissed by anyone - not even by her.
Therefore, till he was certain that the Sahiba would welcome his answers with a broad mind and an open heart he would not explain himself further.

Until then, if she chose to believe that he was this ugly monster she'd made him out to be, so be it.

Slapping on the wall of armour around his punctured heart, he put his mask back up. To face her as the 'Ustaad' that she so sarcastically referred to him as - there was merely a resigned sigh on his lips in reply to her questions.

Of course, just because the young man had lost this debate, he wasn't going to retreat from the arena. He would never let the heiress do anything that would endanger her life or bring her harm - she would have to follow his plans, whether she liked it or not - for her sake.
But to get this clever young lady to follow his plans, Ustaad would have to return to playing the kind of games he was best at - not emotions and words, but a game of politics. Mind-games!


'So, I WAS right!' Heera announced with a dull smirk, wiping the last tear with the back of her palm 'Just as I feared...' an awkward lull followed when she paused - for whatever reason - to find out if he was going to refute her questions with fancy reasons - like he had been for so long.

But, no. It was just the one 'resigned sigh'
'Well... I couldn't care less!' she told herself - why care for some answers of his, when she despised who he was altogether? 'Anyhow...' that line of thought was brought to a swift end 'I didn't think all powerful men were the same... but after this...'

The dull smirk on her lips was not so dull anymore.

'You men toss a woman around as you please... get rid of us when you have no use for us... claim your right over us, when you need to! The Khalils... the Shehzaades... the Kunwars... the... USTAADS! All the same!' the lady bit down on the sharp sides of her teeth 'After selling me out to your master this way... you take my name with yours in public... announce a wedding in court... how dare you! I am NO slave...'

She glimpsed up at the blurry face, at wherever it was that his eyes were - wanting him to observe the extent of hostility in her glares. 'I would walk with my head held high to the gallows, rather than walk to a wedding hall with you!'

Akbar indulged her wishes, by taking his own time to study the growing 'hostility' in her stares. Who knew that hazel - a colour as warm as the sun's glow, could turn cold as stone too!
'Hmmm...' he replied with a pensive nod 'I have no right to force you to do anything... and you can turn down the wedding if you want... but...' he murmured grimly 'I'm sure you understand... cancelling the wedding is not going to do either you, or your people any good...'

'Oh? So THAT's the game we are playing now?' Heera shook her head with disgust 'Ustaad Sahib... I'll take my chances with cruel fate, but not with you! So... I request you to leave from here...'

'I understand Sahiba... but, before I leave... you might want to view this from another angle' he folded his arms - every bit like the shrewd businessman he was, when taking on a tough fellow-merchant. 'I'm a businessman... you're a businesswoman... why don't you treat this wedding like a business deal? I used you to get the Farmaan... in exchange, why don't you use my manpower and my title to keep your Parnagarh safe? I took advantage of you, to make my Huzoor happy... so, why not take advantage of my influence to keep your people happy?'

Feel safe and happy? How could she feel safe and happy when she being cornered and trapped? The only thing Heera could 'feel' was the hot blood rushing to her head again 'I'm thanking the Lord he took my vision away today... because you're the last man on Earth I want to be looking at...' she folded her palms together 'please leave me in peace!'

'Oh really? Last man on Earth?' Akbar winced at that unpleasant remark 'So you would rather it was one of Khalil's men standing here... facing you?' leaning close by, he dropped his pitch to a soft whisper 'The Lord might have taken your vision away, Sahiba... but you can recognise, understand and judge better than most people I've met... so... I'll allow your good heart to be the judge of how unworthy I am... on that same note... I'm certain that you can recognise I'm not the sub-human that Khalil is either!'

Then, the soft whispery tone disappeared as quietly as it had made an entry. 'Of course Sahiba, at present, your ego wouldn't let you admit any of it... but it is what it is...'

His gestures, his words, even the modulations in his tone - the man knew exactly what he was doing. He was in full control of the situation, wasn't he?

'God!' Suddenly, it was difficult to stand the very sight of him. 'Just go...' Heera turned aside, not wanting him to notice the fresh mist under her lashes 'please go...'


Picking up his knife from the floor, he slipped it back into his cummerbund 'I trust you'll keep the details of this conversation to yourself...' his dark eyes gleamed, as he brought his hand up to offer her an adab.

Oh yes, he knew - his secret was safe with the Sahiba. Why wouldn't it be? It would make her life far easier, if the Parnagarhis DIDN'T learn that the Mughal man their baisa had been involved with, was the 'Ustaad' himself! 'Khuda Hafiz!'

Thereon, his silhouette disappeared through the tent exit. But the echoes of his deep voice lingered around long thereafter.

'Oh my God!' Silent screams for help tore through her lungs, sending her to the floor, limp on her knees. 'NO NO NO!!!!'

Did this heartless officer of the Shehzaade expect her to watch like a powerless outsider, while he controlled her wealth, lands and people? While he destroyed their temples like they did elsewhere? Did he actually expect her to burn every last ounce of self-respect and live with him like a glorified slave hereafter? Did he expect her to live a double life and betray her own folks?

'Cheat the only people on Earth who haven't deserted me yet? No... no... Never!' she clutched at the sides of her face in disbelief 'This can't be happening...'

Worse, she had absolutely no one else to blame but herself for all of this!

'Oh God!'

How was she supposed to rescue her people from the mess she'd brought upon them? What was she supposed to tell them? 'Maaa!' she buried herself inside her hands wishing the Earth would just swallow her 'I have no strength left...'

For the past 6 weeks, her life had been a bottomless pit of torment - waking up from one nightmare, only to face the next. When would these nightmares stop? 'When, Ma... when?'

A few barren beats passed before her hands slipped down from her face 'Why... of course...' her lips parted with a weak sigh 'nightmares stopped, if one stopped waking up altogether!'

Bleak thoughts began clouding her head. Her mind adrift, she ran her thumb around the ring finger - fishing for the poison ring 'What if...'

'What if...'

'What if...'

'What if...'

'Wait... what...'

The ring wasn't on her right hand. So, she checked her left hand.

But, it wasn't there either.

'Huh?'

Nudged out of her dark stupor and grim thoughts into a different state of confusion altogether, she inspected her fingers again.

The poison ring was missing! 'What's going on?'

Had she been burgled? 'Not possible' Jiji's diamond ring was still sitting there. And the rest of her jewellery was intact. Only the poison ring was missing. 'But... but... I remember... it was there even when I reached to get the knife...'

'WHAT!' her eyes immediately widened, as another doubt struck her. Quickly moving over, Heera reached the spot where she'd dropped her pocket knife earlier. The weapon wasn't there either - not where she'd dropped it, nor anywhere else on the floor!

'HE? He took them both?'

Well, who else could've done it? Only HE could've swiped them away, when she wasn't looking!

'Unbelievable!' her hands went up to her parted lips 'What a sly man!' she was generally very astute at sensing things like this and yet she had no idea that she'd been robbed.

'Then again' she heaved sharply 'he IS a spy...' And spies were 'trained' to steal!

Shocked, almost mortified by what she'd just discovered, Heera stood up - reeling from a mix of very unpleasant feelings.

'But, why did he...' Did the man really think she would do something so drastic to herself after he'd left? Granted, she might have lost her poise and behaved unlike herself for a short while - but that was when she'd just been hit by the biggest shock and the worst treachery of her life, all at once!

At the end of the day though, she was still a Rajput baisa, wasn't she?

Drawing in a very deep breath, the young heiress slowly dusted the mud off her skirt, before ironing out its folds. 'No...' she sighed exasperatedly 'I would never act so immature... I'd never abandon my people... I might have lost my composure, but I haven't lost my mind yet!' Brushing flat her messy hair with her fingers, she kept her chin up and replaced the veil on her head - like she did every single day for the past 16 years of her life. 'After all, the blood that ran in Durga Bai, runs in Harka Bai too... I might fall down but I never give up... even if it HAS been very tempting to do so of late'

And God knew she wasn't unjustified in wanting to give up. Yet somehow, at the end of each treachery, each tragedy, she managed to pick up the broken pieces of her life and continued wobbling ahead. She did the same today. Of course, the only thing that kept her going was a sense of belonging, a sense of responsibility towards those 400 families who were dependant on her.

With a silent prayer, Heera straightened the borla on her forehead and the chains around her neck, ready to step outside her tent. She'd made a couple of wrong choices, lost the Farmaan, and thus her rights over the lands of Parnagarh. She might have kept her folks in the dark about what happened at Aidabad and she would never be able to tell them about her real relationship with the 'Ustaad'.

Nevertheless, she loved the people like her own family.

'I risked their future, by bringing you into their lives Ustaad Sahib... I'll set it right...'

Chapter 30

The midmorning was crisp. The sun would soon reach its brightest - the couple of hours in a day when light actually seeped through the thickness of the undergrowth to light up the murky forest floor.

Rays of light so dynamic that they managed to dissolve a few shades of darkness from the horrible night. And with few shades of darkness dissolved, lifted some of the fog that'd clouded both, her mind and her eyes.

Until, the silhouette of two known faces stepped onto her path, eclipsing that light.

'Salaam Sahiba...'

'Salaam Sahiba...'

After several moments, she acknowledged their greeting with a cursory nod. Earlier, these were men she'd had genuine regard for. Today, they were merely various faces of the enemy! 'Salaam...'

After darting each other a short glance, Ibrahim decided to speak up 'Harka Sahiba... we have come to seek your opinion... when do you think we might be able to start?'

'Forgive me, Mirza Sahib... but I didn't quite catch the purpose of your question!'

'I... I meant... when do you think we might be able to make a move from these woods?'

A cynical smile softly curved her lips. The man had managed to keep his glances steady, but she didn't miss the hesitance in his voice.

And she was right.

As a soldier, give Ibrahim Mirza the toughest enemies to tackle - and he would do so fearlessly. As a diplomat, give him the toughest rivals to handle - and he would do so effortlessly.

However, dealing with his Master's displeased Lady made for a very awkward encounter indeed.

'Sahiba' Sayyid stepped forth - to try a more direct approach 'Khan Sahib has asked us to kindly enquire... if we could leave these forests by tomorrow?'

'WE?' asked Heera, amused by what she'd just heard 'Now... now... you're embarrassing me by asking for MY opinion... it was your 'noble' Sahib who went out of his way to save the day... for which, we are all grateful... how am I supposed to decide when he must leave? Honestly, I am not aware of his plans, or which direction he is headed for...'

She touched her chin, as though deep in thought. 'Anyhow... since you gentlemen have asked... I suggest that your Sahib leave right away... go wherever he needs to go... why wait for tomorrow?'

Noticing a thread that'd got stuck in one of her bangles, she pulled it out before returning her undivided attention to them, with an air of confidence that came naturally to her. 'Of course, when my injured guards are fit to travel again... I'll leave with my people.'

'I see...' Sayyid and Ibrahim darted each other a puzzled frown, with the awkward meeting getting more awkward!

While the Parnagarhis were under the impression that their baisa was enjoying a light-hearted conversation with the Aidabadis, Ibrahim knew it was anything but. And from her well-crafted response, it was obvious what she intended to convey to Khan Sahib - that there was no 'WE'. That their paths were different. And that she wanted nothing to do with him.

Of course, he could do little else but convey the response to Akbar and let the man himself deal with it.

'Now if you'll excuse me...' Heera ended the lull that'd gone on for longer than it must have 'we've just cremated a young soldier of ours... and were about to finish the last ritual... so...'

'Of course Sahiba...' Ibrahim and Sayyid offered her a quick adab 'Khuda Hafiz'

A short distance away... at the stream

With one hand holding up the large green cotton towel securely tied around her chest, she caught Dhani's arm for support with the other, and slowly stepped in. As expected, the soil underwater was stony and slippery - laden with moss throughout. So, she dipped the edges of her toes at first, then her ankle, then her legs, till she slowly reached waist-deep water.

Then, the young lady turned around and watched, as two maids lit a small flame near the banks.

Into its burning embers was thrown the cotton dress that she'd worn the night before - clothes which soon went up in flames.

'I'll teach you a lesson... I'll make you suffer...'

Isn't that what Khalil had repeated on and on, as he'd pinned her down?

'I'll make you my slave girl!'

With the blaze of the flames imprinted upon her hazel pupils, she closed her eyelids and offered a prayer for young Gokul who'd sacrificed his life fighting that monster.

Once done, she held her breath and took a dip underwater - her long locks still afloat, gently tussling with the tides at the surface.

When Heera rose back to the surface and wiped the droplets off of her face, it was the signal that Dhani was waiting for.

From an array of brass bowls that an assistant held, the maid scooped up handfuls of fragrant pastes and applied them onto her mistress' dewy skin - oils to soothe, and herbs to cleanse.

Quarter hour later, when the pastes were washed off, the young lady should have felt refreshed.

Instead, she turned around to her maid, her glimpse solemn and heavy 'Can you please repeat the procedure?'

Dhani didn't ask why - she understood. The Lady wanted to be purified of that ogre's touch, didn't she? To feel unsullied.

So, the routine was redone, all over again.

But, it was not before the end of the third round that she began feeling somewhat 'cleansed'. Sadly though, the exercise also made Heera realise how much more violated her sister must have felt, before she was gone!

'Jiji...' She whimpered - it brought back everything. Holding her breath, she dunked her face into the stream, recalling her sister's last words -

'Harka Bai... you have to stay back and take care of all this when I'm gone...'

Yes, that was exactly what was happening. She was left behind, alone, taking care of everything - while everyone else from her life was gone! Gone!

Her parents were gone. Jiji was gone. Joy was gone. Home was gone. Godparents were gone. Everyone was gone.

'Had you been my daughter, I would have punished you... locked you up in your chambers for what you've done... but you are not my daughter and I can do no such thing...'

Enough! Deciding to put her life's tragedies behind her - at least for the day - Heera resurfaced afresh as her lungs yelled for air, her cheeks a damp mix of both, the sweetness of fresh water and the salt of her tears.

However, as the young lady recovered her balance, as her senses gradually regained clarity, and as she overheard the mumbling sounds and conversations around her - she realised that there was one tragedy she could NOT put behind her. At least not yet.

'I... I mean... if it were not for Khan Sahib...' murmured one maid, as she washed off the lather of herbs from her hair 'we would have been cremated today too, along with poor Gokul...'

'I agree...' added another, busy scrubbing her elbows and hands 'such decent men... and to think, we used to ridicule them, at Aidabad...'

'Well that was because we assumed all Mughals were alike... how wrong were we...'

'True...' shrugged a fourth lady 'why, I heard... they went so far as to help chop wood for the cremation, since our guards are injured... Bajrang banna personally thanked them for it...'

'I... heard that too...'

'But I'm curious...' a young maid moved closer towards the group, reducing her pitch to a hush whisper 'Khan Sahib returned for the sake of our baisa, didn't he? Wh... what do you think could be the nature of their relationship...'

'Sh...'

'Shhh'

The next instant the discussions had died down, all eyes incidentally upon the heiress.

'Alright...' Heera scoffed softly, diffusing an otherwise uncomfortable lull 'I'm going to sit by the banks to let my hair dry... finish your routines and then join me there...' and just like that, she started making her way towards a shady flat rock at the streamside.

Yes, she had heard their murmurs. Yes, it hurt to know that her actions were being silently questioned. However, fanning the embers of gossip by overreacting, would be the quickest way to spread the fire of scandal.

So, she made light of the situation and went her own way - confident enough to do so now, since she'd become used to the place.

Spreading the wet locks across to let them air-dry, Heera reclined against the flat face of the rock and looked upwards at the sky. Her wet skin glistened under the long beams of sunlight that bounced off, the water droplets beginning to slide down, little by little. She lay that way for a while, soaking in the warmth of the noon.

The solitude was a welcome break - only ever interrupted when a light wind tickled her bare shoulders, or when her anklets made a gentle splash as her feet dangled sometimes above sometimes below the water level.

But, the solitude could not go on forever.

'Baisa...' came the call eventually, as expected

'Yes Dhani?'

'That girl... she didn't mean what she said...'

Heera sighed. 'I'm sure she didn't...'

The maid knelt by her mistress' head 'It's that... everyone's still trying to come to terms with... with Khan Sahib's sudden arrival... and the unexpected scene that followed... besides... that girl's very young... like Bindiya... has a lot to learn...' Grabbing a cloth, Dhani wrapped it around her Lady's soaking tresses 'If only Gauri were here!'

'Hmmm...' the heiress nodded - not entirely convinced by the last statement. If anything, wasn't it actually better that Gauri and Bindiya were not here at present? Otherwise, in addition to everything else, she would've had to listen to Bindiya's endless poems in praise of 'Khan Sahib the saviour' - simultaneously being subjected to several questioning glares from Gauri!

'Anyway...' Heera tilted her head backwards, casting a sceptical glimpse at her maid 'you were talking about an unexpected scene... which one are you referring to?'

Dhani took longer than usual to respond - and even when she did, she spoke haltingly.

'Baisa... we... we... we were already quite shaken when we identified this warrior, who'd appeared from nowhere to defeat Khalil... to be none other than our Sahib!'

God! She swiftly bit her lips, chiding herself for referring to him as 'OUR' Sahib - what a careless slip of the tongue! 'I... I... mean... he was none other than Khan Sahib... and then...'

'And then?'

'And then...' the maid's sentences slowed down further - into a near stammer 'and then to see you being brought in that way... carried by him... in his arms... everyone was left puzzled baisa... that's all...'

'What?'

Gone was the view of the beautiful sky above! Instead, new scenes had emerged in front of her eyes - images of how she must've been carried into the tent, in front of a bewildered audience. And images of who'd carried her in.

'Yes I am the one they call Ustaad...'

'Lord...' Heera pressed her brows hard - wishing to shut out those awkward images at once 'I... I... was unconscious and had no idea...'

'Oh of course... we understand baisa...' the maid was quick to put an end to her mistress' embarrassment 'and anyway, Khan Sahib was being a thorough gentleman... he'd wrapped you in his shawl... called for the Hakim without delay... talking of which...' she paused 'not only is he a gentleman... but, brave too... he fought so gallantly... I wonder how?' For a moment, her fingers stopped working. 'Wait... I KNOOOW!' she suddenly resumed her routine with an almost feverish enthusiasm 'He must have worked in the army before he settled down as a businessman, am I right? No wonder he looks like a warrior... so do his men... and I heard he has business dealings with the Mughal prince himself... that makes him rich, strong and influential... almost as powerful as the Kunwars and the Maharajas... doesn't it? And to think that such a powerful man risked his life... returned here... for...'

'Dhani...' Heera removed her fingers from her brows - not happy with where she presumed this conversation was headed 'I... must get ready... our poor guards, have been waiting on the other side of those thickets for long enough... they'll worry if we don't return soon...'

'Baisa, I understand you might not want to talk to me about it... but, you can trust me... you can share your feelings with me, if you want' Dhani's voice was brimming with concern, as she caught her breath 'Khan Sahib has returned solely for your sake, hasn't he?'

Heera instantly sat up and turned around to face her maid.

As if putting up with the rest of the gossip wasn't bad enough, had Dhani also decided to get carried away with her own theories? 'What do you mean?'

The maid put the towel down, and took a while to weigh her words carefully 'I... I apologise for having hidden this from you for so long... I wasn't sure of what to say then... but I now know it's wrong to hide this from you any further... I...' lowering her lashes, she cleared her throat nervously 'I... I stumbled upon something at Aidabad, baisa... I... I saw you with Khan Sahib, in the meadows... you were spending time in his company... sharing a conversation... you both seemed close... trust me, I've said this to no one... not even to Gauri...' as she met eyes with her mistress again, her gazes was misty 'you're fond of him, aren't you baisa?'

'NO!' her defensive NO had come quicker than it should have, but Heera carried on 'Stop letting your thoughts wander so recklessly, Dhani... and I don't want you bringing this subject up, ever again...'

'Baisa... our people back home... they're simple... and orthodox... at first, they might not welcome a Mughal man at Parnagarh... but that's until they appreciate the fact that he is a good man...'

'Dhani...' her brows narrowed 'Did you NOT hear me? Or was I NOT clear enough?'

'I apologise baisa...'the maid hurriedly wiped her face 'shall I get you a fresh set of cotton clothes?'

'Not cotton... I'll wear silk today...' countered Heera - as though a reminder of who she really was to both herself, and to the people around her - all praise to the changing situation at the camp!

'Thank you... you may go now'

'Yes baisa...'

Poor Dhani. Neither were her intentions misplaced, nor were her questions. But she scampered off from the spot, assuming that she'd wronged her mistress.

Nevertheless, Heera had to do what she had to do.

This stern stance with Dhani wasn't because she'd succumbed to an impulsive bout of anger. Nor was it retaliation from her hurt ego. Her response was in fact a calm calculated decision to ensure that THIS sort of discussion was never encouraged again.

Blissfully unaware that this man was their new leader, the Parnagarhi group continued to be curious about his grand return, and awed by his valiant gestures. To them, he was still that mysterious stranger from Aidabad. However, SHE had uncovered his true identity, met the person behind the mask 'Ustaad' and realised there was no place for 'awe' or 'intrigue'. Only dread!

So she was determined to do whatever she could, to keep her people away from this two-faced businessman.

Earlier that morning, after having dusted off the mud from her skirt, replaced the veil on her head and stepped out of the tent - she'd spent time pondering on the recent incidents. A good few hours, in fact. Till she could arrive at some logical conclusions of her own.

'Yes... maybe' she'd grudgingly admitted by the end of it.

Maybe this man who went by the title 'Ustaad' was not as evil as Khalil. Maybe he did not believe in murdering 'innocents' - or her folks would have been dead and buried by now.

And most probably he played no direct role in jiji's death. Aside from her gut instincts, she also recalled how Maharaj kakasa, who'd seen the faces of Khalil's murderous thugs didn't recognise a single face in Aidabad over two weeks.

So, perhaps it was true - Ustaad Sahib and Khalil were two rival groups with differing ethics.

However, 'Ustaad' not being evil, did not mean he was a good man either. He was just another greedy businessman who'd heartlessly betrayed her over and over, so he could use the valleys for personal gains. If there was anyone he was loyal to - it was to the Shehzaade.

And everyone in the Empire was aware of how THAT ruthless fanatical prince treated his Hindu subjects -

Wrecking temples. Obstructing non-Mughal customs and traditions. Imposing stricter punishments and heavier taxes upon Hindus. Waging endless wars for power, thus trampling upon the lives of the poor.

'No! Cannot let that happen... '

As it is, she'd lost the Farmaan. Lost her rights over the land - losses which she already couldn't come to terms with - not today, not ever!

Thus currently, all she had left, was her dear people. She wouldn't let them be taken away too.

Never!

So, she would do whatever she could to keep the dark shadows of Ustaad from falling upon their lives - for reasons both, selfish and selfless.

Obviously, it was because she wanted to protect them and their livelihoods. But, she also wanted to protect their love for her - and that would not be possible if the people found out the 'real' story. That was why Ustaad HAD to stay away.

Moreover, it was the only means to avoid this unwanted wedding. The only means to shut him out of her life and home. Why, the alternate possibility literally sent uncomfortable shudders through her core - imagine sharing her home with the very man who'd mentored her sister's murderer. Imagine sharing her LIFE with him! Sacrilegious!

'No! Cannot let that happen... '

Yes, he might be the Mansabdar of Parnagarh, but he could control the place by staying elsewhere too, couldn't he? Like many other Mansabdars did?

Which is why she'd sent that subtle message through Ibrahim and Sayyid, asking him to leave.

Hopefully, he got the 'message' and would've started making his way out from the camp by now - any man with an ounce of self-respect would.

On the way back...

'Baisa...'

'Greetings...' she nodded at the couple of guards, who'd just joined their group to escort the ladies back to the tents 'How is Bajrang banna feeling? And the rest of them?'

'Oh... don't worry baisa... most of them are recovering well...'

'But, Bajrang banna's injuries might need your attention again...'

'I was planning to check on them soon...' she paused 'and, any other news from the camp?'

'No baisa...'

'No other developments in the camp?'

'Developments?'

'Ermmm... not really baisa...'

As she continued walking ahead, the young lady waited for them to say something further. And waited some more. But when they said nothing else, she could rein in her curiosity no longer. 'What about the other group...' she sighed, keeping her tone calm and indifferent 'have they left?'

'Leaving?' smiled one guard 'Oh no... no... baisa... they're probably resting...'

'Sleeping peacefully, I'd say!'

Her pace slowed down. 'Sleeping?'

'Yes baisa!'

'Oh... you needn't worry about them...' two other guards chipped in, assuming that their mistress was being her typically kind-and-hospitable self 'Khan Sahib and his men have made themselves at home...'

'They've put up a few more tents...'

'Comfortably settled down...'

'What?' her brows knit into a startled frown - which she managed to hide in time, by pulling the border of her veil lower. 'Settled down?'

'Baisa... they've travelled far... they need rest too...'

'They'll probably leave when we do...'

'Well... at least we men will have company while we wait for our guards to recover...'

'And with them around, it's safer too...' the maids added 'wouldn't you say so, baisa?'

'Yes... yes...' Heera sighed - since she could do nothing else at that moment.

But the young lady was more than just a 'little' annoyed. 'Put up a few more tents?' So THAT was his answer to her message? 'Comfortably settled down?' So THAT was his sly way of letting her know he wasn't leaving?

Maybe then, her next message shouldn't be so 'subtle'.

Later... that night

Peering through the lens at the painting that described the procedure in detail, she shifted her lens back to the open wound.

'Yes...' she breathed a sigh of relief, before dropping the apparatus into a bowl and wiping the excess blood from her hands. The broken blood vessel had been securely tied.

'Bajrang banna...' she grimly shook her head at the patient 'the bleeding has been stemmed... but, you MUSTN'T put any pressure on your hand...'

'Yes baisa...' winced the soldier weakly

As she waited for the maids to clear the mess up, so that she might begin stitching up the sutures that'd come undone - her glances briefly strayed, checking out the entrance of the tent a couple of times.

'Hmmm... more light please...' she then instructed the aides and signalled at the two guards standing beside her 'Please hold him still...'

Replacing the twig in between the injured soldier's teeth for him to bite upon - the men held his shoulders down, so she could continue the painful surgery without interruption.

Fortunately for the agonised soldier, he didn't have to shriek or bite through that twig for long - as his baisa was very quick, and very skilled with the remainder of the procedure.

Not long thereafter, the wound was covered with medicated bandages and the limb tied to a light plank of wood, so he wouldn't be able to move the hand.

'Here you go...' the young lady handed the towel back to her maids, once her palms had been scrubbed, sanitised and dried 'by the way...' she peeped at the pitch darkness outside, while slipping her bangles and rings back on. 'What time is it?'

'Bedtime...'

'You've been here... tending to the soldiers... for the past 3... 4... hours, baisa'

'Bedtime?' she replaced the veil on her head with a tired murmur 'And still no response from the Ustaad?'

It was early noon when she'd drafted, sealed and sent him that not-so-subtle letter. Then, why hadn't she received any sort of acknowledgement from him yet? No reply, even 10 hours later? It was obvious he hadn't left the camp - Bahadur was still loitering around. So, what was he doing?

Not that the young lady was the least bit interested in seeing him. But she was interested in receiving a response for her message! Did he even read it yet?

Anyhow, on the way back to her own tent, she'd stop by and find out.

The guard held the flame torch high over his shoulder, to light up the dimly-lit patch of forest clearing they'd arrived at, a few hundred yards away from their own camp 'Please wait here...' he instructed the ladies, before approaching the young chap seated on a small step stool outside the large tent.

'Our baisa wants to know if Khan Sahib received the message she'd sent earlier...'

Dropping the sticks and stones that he'd been playing with, Azeez casually stood up 'Salaam Sahiba...' he walked towards the group of ladies assembled behind the guards 'I've kept the scroll inside... safely... as soon as Khan Sahib wakes up, I'll make sure he reads it...'

'What! Still sleeping? When I came at noon, he was sleeping then too' the guard quipped - a remark that nearly got Heera to break out into a dry smile because that was the very thought that'd crossed her mind too 'Surely, he couldn't be all that exhausted... is he alright... his health, I mean?'

'Yes, the poor man IS exhausted' scoffed Azeez, well aware of what was running through their minds 'Thing is... we'd been constantly riding for many days... during the nights, our Sahib would stay awake, to keep watch over us... and when it was his turn to nap, he couldn't sleep if he tried... despite his body crying for rest... not till he was sure you were safe!' The boy paused - his features turning grave, as he stole a quick peek at her expressions through the veil. He wanted to be sure the Sahiba was listening to him, and that she understood precisely what he was trying to convey 'not till he was sure you all were safe... but, don't worry... when he wakes up, I'll make sure he reads the message!'

The next instant, humour had found its way back into his voice and manner 'Alright then good folks... must be getting late for you... so, goodnight... rest well' he offered his amused audience a quick salute, reserving a special grand adab for the Lady herself.

'Goodnight...' replied Heera.

Her group saw the formal nod with which she'd wished him back. But only Azeez could see the glimmer of displeasure in her eyes that came along with it - a comeback that effectively forced even his brazen stares to look away for a moment.

She'd put him in his place - since it wasn't very nice of him to intrude in her personal matter that way.

Not that Azeez had intended to upset her. If anything, he respected the Sahiba immensely. And he could imagine how angry and cheated she must be feeling.

But just this once, he couldn't let go of the opportunity to speak up in support of his Sahib.

Especially after he'd met the master, on his return from their encounter.

Khan Sahib being Khan Sahib never let it show. But from the masked grief in his voice, Azeez knew - the armour might be heavy, but the man inside was crushed. And as a close witness of the hardships that the Sahib had endured for her sake - Azeez believed he was obliged to help the Sahiba realise that she wasn't the lone sufferer in this story. 'Khuda Hafiz, Sahiba'

Even later... at midnight...

'Hmmm' The young man sniffed in the air, slowly and deeply. The scent of wet Earth 'Lovely'. Mixed with the fragrance of wild flowers 'Divine'.

Just as divine as it felt to be able to have a couple of meals without being interrupted. As divine as it felt to be able to wake up from sleep refreshed, and not because he'd broken out into cold sweats from haunting nightmares.

That morning, when he lay down to rest, all he hoped for was some sleep to take the pain away - both, the physical pain, and the agony within that he could not describe.

But as soon as his head hit the pillow, his mind had apparently drifted off into another world. And by the time it had returned to reality, an entire day had passed. For a man who could hardly nap 6 hours at a stretch, slumbering an entire day was nothing short of a bizarre occurrence.

Nevertheless, when he woke up, he welcomed this bizarre one-off occurrence - in fact, celebrated it with a delicious hot supper - and then strolled off to the stream for a midnight swim.

Now, after an invigorating bath, as he sat with his chest exposed to the naked flame of a campfire, waiting for his muscles to soak in the heat, waiting for his skin to absorb the medicinal oils, Akbar was a new man - with half the pain gone. Every so often, when a gust of wind would blow past, the hair on his body would stand on end, and his skin would twitch, complaining of the cold. But, he didn't mind the sweet torment of the chilly breeze that the dead of night brought with it.

Just like how he didn't mind the sweet torment that came from reading her spiteful message, by the soft fuzzy light of the campfire.

Respected Mansabdar of Parnagarh,

Firstly, let me start by expressing my gratitude for your courageous efforts that saved many lives, since it would be rude of me not to do so.

Having said that though, it is with great regret and a heavy heart that I relinquish my authority over Parnagarh, to you and your Huzoor. And much as it pains me to do so, I have also come to accept that a good part of the valleys are going to be ruined for mining iron ores.

Nevertheless, as a dutiful citizen, I give you my word that we will continue following the Mughal law as we have been doing so far. We will consult your advice in all matters, and pay our taxes to you, twice a year.

However, I have one request to make, which I assume you will have no problem with.

While you enjoy your new position as Mansabdar, I request that you continue to do so from elsewhere, outside Parnagarh.

With half our lands lost to the miners already, I hope that you will spare the other half from being destroyed by your soldiers.

We are a group of peaceful villagers, who live off the land. We grow crops to feed ourselves and herbs to treat the sick. Please do not snatch away our livelihoods by allowing your army to trample upon our fields and homes. Please grant us these small necessities in life and let us live in peace.

If you can assure me that you would do so, I assure you that your darkest secrets shall stay safe with me. And that way, who knows, one day you might even enjoy the loyal support of the Parnagarhis like the previous Mansabdar, my father, used to.

Regards,

Harka Bai

With a faint smirk, Akbar put the scroll down and pushed a few twigs of firewood in - the crackling flashes of light reflecting the brilliance of his sharp features.

She might have a hundred reasons to want him to leave, but his one reason to stay within Parnagarh outweighed it all! 'I'll undo your fears, one by one... first and foremost, I need to convince you that I'm not a greedy businessman out to destroy the place for money and power... quite the opposite, in fact!' Picking up a set of fresh cotton bandages, he wrapped them around the cuts on his palm. 'But how much ever I explain... you're never going to believe my words, when I say I'm only a simple man, are you? Anyway...'

He grabbed a towel and rubbed it brusquely around the wet tips of his wavy auburn locks, realising he needed some time to come up with a fitting reply for her twisted ploy to keep him out of Parnagarh 'we'll see what happens tomorrow...'

Besides, the wounds were still raw - for her, and for him. Hopefully, another day and at least some of it would have begun healing.

'Lord!' The young lady moaned - the midnight wind was getting chilly. Pulling the blanket right up to her neck, she turned to her left. With a groggy sigh, she let her head settle back into the fresh folds of the soft pillow, refusing to open her eyelids.

She was very sleepy.

She would drift into deep sleep soon.

'All those nights, our Sahib used to stay awake, to keep watch over us... when it was his turn to nap, he couldn't sleep if he tried...'

God! She pushed the blanket back down to her waist. Quarter hour later, and suddenly it was too hot!

Twisting to her right, she adjusted her shoulders and found herself a new comfortable position, still refusing to open her eyelids.

She was very sleepy.

She would drift into deep sleep soon.

'He couldn't sleep if he tried... despite his body crying for rest... not till he was sure you were safe'

'Fine...' she briefly gave up tussling with the blanket 'let him eat to his heart's content... sleep for an entire week, if he must... I've sent a clear message... if he doesn't respond, there's nothing I can do about it... I'll be on my own way soon... but, what if...' her eyelids opened, staring in silent worry at the black outlines of her tent's roof 'well... if he continues playing these mind games... these underhanded tricks and plots... then... then... I'll deal with it, as it comes... '

Next day...

As she'd somehow come to guess, no reply came that morning either.

Nor that noon.

In fact, by evening she'd stopped caring for a response. She'd become much too busy supervising her maids as they reorganized and rearranged an array of trunks - the bustle transforming her tent into a cradle of chaos.

A couple of hours into the task, when the third trunk had been successfully packed and closed, Heera decided to take a breather. Leaning against the bolster, she sipped on the warm saffron milk that'd just been brought in, quite satisfied with the chores that had been wrapped up so far.

Suddenly, a soft tap on her left shoulder drew her attention away from the bustle.

'Baisa...' Dhani whispered, kneeling beside the Lady 'this message is for you... it's from Khan Sahib... one of his men handed it over to me...'

'Oh...' Heera slowly sat up, a gentle frown eclipsing the calmness gracing her features. Putting down the saffron milk, she picked up her reading lens and waited for her maid to step aside before unfurling the scroll - not knowing what to expect.

Respected Sahiba,

I hope you have rested well. I received your message and read it with interest, though I must admit that I cannot agree with all the terms enlisted in it.

If you have time to spare, please visit my humble dwelling now, and we can discuss it formally.

Regards,

Akbar Mahmoud Khan

'What?' she exhaled, unaware that she'd been holding her breath for so long

'Cannot agree?'

A straightforward request - and he wouldn't agree to it? She thumped the scroll upon her lap, part-annoyed, part-anxious - the contents of his letter rattling her peace. Any more of this and she might lose the little sanity left in her. No, she wouldn't give in. But, how? If only she had a while to formulate her thoughts! But he'd asked her to visit him now!

Nearly two days she'd been made to wait for an answer. And now that he had finally found the time, she was supposed to come over at once? As if she was at his beck and call?

'God!' The young lady was almost tempted to ignore the invite.

However, if she pandered to her own ego and ignored the invite, SHE would end up being the loser, not him - since it was her people's freedom and rights at stake here! Who knew what he was capable of?

'He could've easily elaborated everything in a longer letter... and be done with it...' she hissed - till she recalled the calluses in his hand.

'Oh, fine!' Heera ultimately decided to act sensible and accept the invite.

But then, what reason was she supposed to give her people for being gone? It was hard enough suppressing the rumours floating about, when she was keeping up this facade of stern indifference around him and his men! If she paid him a visit at this hour, what would her people think?

'Baisa...'

Her thoughts interrupted by that genteel voice, the young lady looked up 'Yes, Dhani?'

'Is something the problem?' the maid kindly kept her tone very hush 'D... do you need to meet him, baisa?'

Heera was at a loss for words - whelmed by mixed emotions, as she tried to make sense of this uncomfortable situation. 'Y... yes...' she eventually found her voice 'There are some official issues I need to discuss with him urgently...'

Dhani blinked once - to show she understood her mistress' dilemma.

'Everyone's busy... no one will notice anything, if you slip outside with your walking stick quietly...' she muttered 'and if the ladies ask, I'll give them the excuse that you wanted to step out for a stroll... as for the guards, they know how to remain discreet...'

'Thank you...' Heera patted Dhani's hand, her eyes warming with gratitude - gratitude towards the maid for being so perceptive, and also gratitude for not being the slightest bit snarky despite the previous incident between them.

'That's alright...' Dhani nodded back. 'Now please go, baisa... so you return before it gets too late...'