‘Lord Rudra be merciful.’
She had screeched to a halt, confronted by a solid barrier wall. She was now well and truly lost, finding herself at the other end of the slum which abutted the inner fort wall. The inner city of Mithila was as far as it could be. It was eerily quiet, with scarcely anyone around. The sun had almost set, and the faint snatches of twilight only emphasised the darkness. She did not know what to do.
‘Who is this now?’ A voice was heard from behind her.
Sita whirled around, ready to strike. She saw two adolescent boys moving towards her from the right. She turned left. And ran. But did not get far. A leg stuck out and tripped her, making her fall flat on her face. Into the muck. There were more of them. She got up quickly and grabbed her stick. Five boys had gathered around her. Casual menace on their faces.
Her mother had warned her about the crimes in the slums. Of people getting beaten up. But Sita had not believed those stories, thinking that the sweet people who came to collect charity from her mother would never hurt anyone.
I should have listened to Maa.
Sita looked around nervously. The five boys were now in front of her. The steep fort wall was behind her. There was no escape.
She brandished the stick at them, threateningly. The boys let out a merry laugh, amused by the antics of the little girl.
The one in the centre bit a fingernail in mock fear, and said in a sing-song voice, ‘Ooh … we’re so scared …’
Raucous laughter followed.
‘That’s a precious ring, noble girl,’ said the boy, with theatrical politeness. ‘I’m sure it’s worth more than what the five of us will earn in our entire lives. Do you think that …’
‘Do you want the ring?’ asked Sita, feeling a sense of relief as she reached for it. ‘Take it. Just let me go.’
The boy sniggered. ‘Of course we will let you go. First throw the ring over here.’
Sita gulped anxiously. She balanced her stick against her body, and quickly pulled the ring off her forefinger. Holding it in her closed fist, she pointed the stick at them with her left hand. ‘I know how to use this.’
The boy looked at his friends, his eyebrows raised. He turned to the girl and smiled. ‘We believe you. Just throw the ring here.’
Sita flung the ring forward. It fell a short distance from the boy.
‘Your throwing arm could do with more strength, noble girl,’ laughed the boy, as he bent down to pick it up. He looked at it carefully and whistled softly, before tucking it into his waistband. ‘Now, what more do you have?’
Suddenly, the boy arched forward and fell to the ground. Behind him stood the tall, dark-skinned girl Sita had crashed into earlier. She held a big bamboo stick with both hands. The boys whirled around aggressively and looked at the girl; the bravado evaporated just as quickly. She was taller than they were. Lean and muscular.
More importantly, it appeared the boys knew her. And her reputation.
‘You have nothing to do with this, Samichi …’ said one of the boys, hesitantly. ‘Leave.’
Samichi answered with her stick and struck his hand. Ferociously. The boy staggered back, clutching his arm.
‘I’ll break the other one too, if you don’t get out of here,’ growled Samichi.
And, the boy ran.
The other four delinquents, however, stood their ground. The one that was felled earlier was back on his feet. They faced Samichi, their backs to Sita. The apparently harmless one. They didn’t notice Sita gripping her stick, holding it high above her head and creeping up on the one who had her ring. Judging the distance perfectly, she swung her weapon viciously at the boy’s head.
Thwack!
The boy collapsed in a heap, blood spurting from the crack on the back of his head. The three others turned around. Shocked. Paralysed.
‘Come on! Quick!’ screamed Samichi, as she rushed forward and grabbed Sita by the hand.
As the two girls ran around the corner, Samichi stole a glance back at the scene. The boy lay on the ground, unmoving. His friends had gathered around him, trying to rouse him.
‘Quickly!’ shouted Samichi, dragging Sita along.
Chapter 4
Sita stood, her hands locked behind her back. Her head bowed. Muck and refuse from the Mithila slums all over her clothes. Her face caked with mud. The very expensive ring on her finger missing. Shivering with fear. She had never seen her mother so angry.
Sunaina was staring at her daughter. No words were spoken. Just a look of utter disapproval. And worse, disappointment. Sita felt like she had failed her mother in the worst possible way.
‘I’m so sorry, Maa,’ wailed Sita, fresh tears flowing down her face.
She wished her mother would at least say something. Or, slap her. Or, scold her. This silence was terrifying.
‘Maa …’
Sunaina sat in stony silence. Staring hard at her daughter.
‘My Lady!’
Sunaina looked towards the entrance to her chamber. A Mithila policeman was standing there. His head bowed.
‘What is the news?’ asked Sunaina, brusquely.
‘The five boys are missing, My Lady,’ said the policeman. ‘They have probably escaped.’
‘All five?’
‘I don’t have any new information on the injured boy, My Lady,’ said the policeman, referring to the one hit on the head by Sita. ‘Some witnesses have come forward. They say that he was carried away by the other boys. He was bleeding a lot.’
‘A lot?’
‘Well … one witness said he would be surprised if that boy …’
The policeman, wisely, left the words ‘made it alive’ unsaid.
‘Leave us,’ ordered Sunaina.
The policeman immediately saluted, turned, and marched out.
Sunaina turned her attention back to Sita. Her daughter cowered under the stern gaze. The queen then looked beyond Sita, at the filthy adolescent standing near the wall.
‘What is your name, child?’ asked Sunaina.
‘Samichi, My Lady.’
‘You are not going back to the slums, Samichi. You will stay in the palace from now on.’
Samichi smiled and folded her hands together into a Namaste. ‘Of course, My Lady. It will be my honour to …’
Samichi stopped speaking as Sunaina raised her right hand. The queen turned towards Sita. ‘Go to your chambers. Take a bath. Have the physician look at your wounds; and Samichi’s wounds. We will speak tomorrow.’
‘Maa …’
‘Tomorrow.’