The Enemy's Daughter

Chapter Eighteen

 Priyadarshini wiped the face of the little girl gently with a cloth before raising her head and pushing a spoonful of the bitter medicine into her mouth. The child grimaced in disgust, tears welling up in her eyes, but the next instant her face lighted up when the woman produced a sweetmeat for her.

She had been working diligently alongside the doctor and his assistants for a week now. At first, the people had been awestruck to find the princess in their midst, administering medicine and making the patients comfortable, but gradually they had accepted her presence and now even came to her with their sick children. Moving to the next pallet, she knelt down beside the youth, hardly more than a boy, and brought a cupful of the vile concoction to his mouth. With a groan of protest, he drained the cup, before sinking down again on the straw mattress.

"How is he now?" asked a hesitant voice. Priyadarshini glanced towards the door to find an old man, wiry, with a weatherbeaten skin, and dressed in less than immaculate clothes, standing in the doorway and glancing inside anxiously.

"Rest easy, he is no longer in danger of perishing from the fever."

The old man breathed a sigh of relief. "He is my grandson, my lady. The only child of my dead son," Madho rubbed the moisture from his eyes. "It is thanks to you that he is alive." The old man fell at her feet.

Her face lit up with a gentle smile, Priyadarshini nodded her head in acknowledgment of the poor man's gratitude. "Rise up, Madho," she urged him to get up, self-conscious to find the old man bent before her in obeisance. "I have only done my duty towards my people."

As the old man rose to amble towards his grandson's side, the royal doctor walked into the thatched room. Casting a glance at the mud walls and the simple furnishings, he looked at the young woman who was mixing herbs for another dose of medicine which would then be administered to the waiting patients. A long queue had formed outside the door of the apothecary, all waiting eagerly to get the drug dealt out by none other than a royal princess. It was unheard of, and many lined up just to catch a glimpse of the princess mingling with the common people, and serving them like an ordinary assistant to the doctor. He had been so wrong about her, he mused. She had no airs which the royalty had, though she was gentle and well-mannered, and did not mind carrying out the doctor's orders like his other assistants. They were indeed fortunate to have her to tend to the women and children.

*****

The view of the majestic mountains rising up to meet the sky was breathtaking. Mist covered the faraway peaks, a river snaked through the green valley below and a cool breeze blew towards the open window, but for the man seated there, the view was meaningless, for his vision was turned inwards. What he saw there was enough the bring a frown on his handsome face.

Hassan debated the wisdom of his feelings. He recalled the conversation he had the previous night with his mother. She had been pestering him to get married again for some time. She had even talked to the family of a suitable girl, and they were willing to conduct the ceremony within a month, but he had refused point blank even to consider the proposition. What good would it do him when his heart was taken up with the thoughts of a blue-eyed goddess, living far away in another land? He had tried his best to stem the emotions rising inside his heart just at the thought of her, but he was helpless. He was hopelessly in love with Neelanjana, that enticing woman who held him in her thrall. What was her answer going to be when they met again? Would she agree to marry him or would she choose the royal patronage which she enjoyed over the simple but comfortable life which she could have with him? He had no answers as of now, and with a sigh, he turned away from the window to get ready for the souk where he had to sell his goods.