The seer is clever, steering the course towards truth
But what is reality if from the eyes of only one soul?
Each puzzle piece completes the whole
So Nandini shall point to his wife,
where hides his own secrets
Poison kills poison
It's a cycle of death.

****

A bleeding Maya was excused from household work. After all, a menstruating woman was regarded as impure, so she couldn't cook or clean. Freed from scrutiny, she went out with Hrishav. On the last moment they decided to shift it from night to late afternoon. Maya wasn't ready to step outside after the moon rose.

She didn't know where he was taking them. Her first guess was the sacrificial grounds, but then they found themselves at the house of a merchant. They knocked on his door. A stout figure appeared with a bulging belly. "Boro Babu?" He joined his hands. "Welcome to my home!"

The merchant, whose name Maya learnt to be Giriraj, served them jal jeera and singhara. "To what I owe this pleasure?"

"You are a loyal subject of mine, Giriraj." Hrishav clenched a smile. "I believe you will help me."

"Anything, Boro Babu!"

Hrishav fetched out a big red pouch. As the merchant was to touch the bag, he snatched it away. "Not so soon." Hrishav clicked his tongue. "Bring out your papers and tell me the details of all the people who have repaid their loans within the last year. Every single one. No anonymity."

"That's it?" The merchant sprinted to get his booklet. He dusted the cover and lay bare the pages. "Anything else this servant can do?"

"You shall keep your lip sealed about this."

He shrugged. "Boro Babu never came."

"Wonderful." Hrishav smirked. "Now, like a good parrot, spill it."

The merchant straightened his back and poured the details. "Farmer Kamilla. He repaid his loan of fifty rupees. Those were small inputs but he did. I heard he is doing better now, got a good harvest. Next comes Mohan, your man. He took a small one of twenty, and gave it back within two months."

As he read along, Hrishav's shoulders slumped. Maya knew he was trying to find certain names, but looking at his downcast eyes, it was evident that the investigation was going nowhere.

"Mr. Bakshi, then. A lump sum he took."

Hrishav's eyes glimmered. "Why did you pause?"

"I heard his wife's older sister is the Rajon's mistress." He gulped. "People say she is dead, but I heard some other gossipmongers spreading the news that she is alive. From the, uh, the slums. I hope it's not rude to confess to you I go there too."

"You can tell me about Bakshi."

"He wasn't paying the loan for three months. I threatened him to no avail. Was going to sell the gold he had kept with me, but suddenly he appeared with a box of sweets and the whole amount. Can you believe it? The whole. He closed it in one day. I asked if he begged from another to repay me, but he informed he got a high-paying job. Said his wife was pregnant again."

Maya clutched Hrishav's arm. Giriraj noticed the gesture, but refrained from commenting.

"She has got a boy now," Maya said. "The daughter died."

"So I heard." Giriraj nodded. "Luck favoured him. He got a healthy child as well as became financially stable."

Hrishav leaned forward, hands brushing on his thigh. "What other names you have? Such peculiar cases?"

"Narendra. He was a farmer who kept on taking money from me, but one day ceased to come. Sent a slave- yes, you heard that right- the petty farmer sent a slave with the money to me. Upon inquiring I got to know he had bought a bungalow in the nearby town. The only other odd case except these two is of Swayambhu. He began a business of spices and has prospered. I think he could pay me in one transaction because of the huge profit."

"Thank you, Giriraj." Hrishav handed him the jingling coins. "Neither did I come, nor Maya."

"Pardon me, Boro Babu," the tip of his nose reddened, "is she the daughter of Falgun? But anyways, I won't reveal your arrival."

"Yes." Hrishav narrowed his eyes. "She is the daughter of Falgun. But now she works under me. A very bright girl with excellent knowledge of scriptures."

"Oh..." Giriraj suppressed a grin. "Well-taught. Goodbye, Boro Babu."

The priest and his secret wife sauntered to the shed of an abandoned stable. Away from prying eyes, they took a moment to breathe in close proximity– hands entwined and gaze admiring the birds returning to their nests.

"You know what this means?" Hrishav asked.

"I don't." Maya wetted her parched lips. "But, Sonalota's daughter died mysteriously. She is tortured by her in-laws, yet she lied to me about it. It's not like I would go and throw ghee in fire. But she still lied to me, her so-called bosom friend."

"Bakshi, Narendra, Swayambhu– the wives of each had given birth to a baby girl." Hrishav lowered his voice to a cold whisper. "You know what this means, Maya."

Her eyes widened. "They sacrificed the babies to get rich?"

"Not just rich, but also be promised a son." Hrishav heaved a sigh. "Literally giving up Lakshmi to get transient material bliss. It is no coincidence that one of the corpses found by the snake-charmers had a pendant around their neck, which, after some more research, turned out to have been a gift to Sonalota when she was first expecting."

A numbing ache banged against Maya's skull. She swayed and went limp. Hrishav grabbed her in his arms. "Maya?" He shook her. "Maya, you have to be strong. For my sake. For the sake of truth."

Her eyes fluttered open.

"Can you hear me, Maya?"

She swallowed. "Take me home."

"I am sorry. I should have known this would be too hard for you." He helped her stand. "Let us stop by a tea stall. You can sit while I have a cup."

"Wouldn't it look bad?"

Hrishav crimsoned. "It's not like a prince can't roam around." He averted his gaze. "And you can be with me. I will ensure nothing happens to your reputation."

Holding her near, they searched for a shop around. Finally, they saw one with no customer. Except a few men passing by on cycles, no one was around. Hrishav made her sit on the bench and ordered a cup of tea. Behind the stall, a man prepared the brimming chai while a pregnant lady, possibly his wife, ate sooji.

"Here, gentleman!" The cook also gave two butterfly-shaped sugary biscuits. "Will she not have anything?"

"She is sick. She doesn't want something hot."

The pregnant lady peeked. "Want some sooji? It's better than this liquid that burns your tongue."

"You say so now, but after our child is born, you will have to drink tea." The husband huffed. "Otherwise your body will take longer to heal. This remedy worked last time too."

Hrishav was surprised to see this couple didn't recognise him. Although he was a royal and didn't go outside without protection, every villager knew him. Who was this couple? He too was unable to recollect.

Maya had some sooji from the kind lady. She blabbered on about the names she had selected for her would-be son or daughter.

"What is your name?"

"Maya," she replied. "Adding to your list?"

"Yes!" She chuckled. "It's simple but so nice. My name is Tara, and that is my husband Asutosh. We just moved here recently."

Not a good decision, Maya pushed back her tears. I hope your husband doesn't kill babies.

"He is very romantic." Tara giggled. "I have a daughter of ten. He says he wants another because boys are monkeys. Never saw any man so fond of girls. Me and my Sundari live like princesses."

"You flatter me too much," Asutosh swirled a warm glass of milk, "even though you know I won't buy you another set of saree. I need to save for our daughter's marriage."

"But you say you will make her study?"

"Of course. But it would be too hard for her to arrange the things of her wedding. We never know when our daughter will grow up. Time passes like a storm. I must save from now."

"If you need any help, you can visit the Boro Babu," Hrishav advised the man. "He is the brother of the Rajon. Rajon Vijay Mukherjee."

"Is Boro Babu benevolent?"

"Yes. Beware of the Rajon's son. That one is very nasty."

"I will remember the name. I need to get acquainted with everyone here."

Hrishav discarded the earthen cup. "Come, Maya. We will go. Hope you are feeling better?"

"Yes. I am–" Hrishav placed a hand on her waist and almost carried her up. "Wait! I...I can walk." A blush crept up her cheeks. "You can't do this to me."

"Your words can make them think we are a cheating pair." Hrishav wheezed. Pinching her nose, he said, "You already have such fierce mood swings. What will you do when you will be pregnant?".

"Pregnant?" Breath hitched in her throat. "Audacious of you to think I'll let you make me pregnant when I am angry with you."

"Just because you got your cycle this month doesn't mean–"

"One more word and I'll kick you to the ground." Heat emanated from her ears. "First learn to handle me and then think about babies. Nonsense."

Tara patted her back. "You will love being a mother. Trust me. It has its tests, but also joys." She wiggled her brows. "Does he want a girl or a boy?"

"Girl if like her. A boy...well, he should be better than me," Hrishav replied.

Maya twisted her lips. He extended a hand, beckoning her to come.

"I wish to meet again," Maya said. "Take care of yourself, Tara."

Before Maya left, a sneaky hand squeezed a chit of paper inside her blouse. Tara blinked assuringly. Oblivious to the exchange, Hrishav wrapped an arm around Maya and chirped about calves, chicks and little lambs. Maya turned back– the stall wasn't there.

Hrishav placed a peck on her forehead. "You miss her?" He waved towards the direction. "See, Tara and Asutosh are closing the shop. A hardworking couple."

"Truly."

Maya saw only flying dust.

Returning home, she retired to her room and hastily pulled out the crinkled paper. Opening it, she saw only a word written: Jorhat.

As far as she knew, it was a place in Assam.

"What does this mean?"

Word count: 1777 words

So we got some clues. Guess what? Tara is another Mahavidya! 😌♥️ And about this investigation, we will get to know more about the murders soon in following chapters.