MAHABHARATA SERIES BOOK#2: The Seeds of War (Mba) (6 page)

After pleasantries had been exchanged and suitable decorum shown to the visiting royal, Yayati asked the question that was pressing him. ‘How many maids do you have, Devayani? And how did you come by them and by all this luxury? It is not usual for a rishi’s daughter, is it?’

She smiled proudly. Her every word and mannerism reeked with the self-indulgent officiousness of the recently enriched or ennobled and was offputting in the extreme. He had seen many merchants and lower class individuals change and put on such airs overnight when struck by a sudden windfall, inheritance or change of circumstances. He had always found it unsavoury. In Devayani’s case, he found it even more unpalatable because he had been so besotted with the vision in the well, and that vulnerable, intense young wraith he had rescued had suddenly changed into this self-indulgent pompous ass! Almost every word out of Devayani’s mouth seemed to be about herself or expressed her views on various things. 

She told him briefly that she had suffered a grave insult by the danavas and as a result her father had threatened to leave his post as preceptor to the asuras. King Vrishaparva had offered him anything he pleased in order to make him stay. ‘My father told the danava to ask me what I wished,’ she said proudly. ‘I asked for a thousand maids and to live in a manner befitting one of my superior status.’

Yayati knew better than to enquire what she meant by phrases like ‘superior status’. He had gained an indication of Devayani’s self-pandering opinions already. He was more interested in the maid seated immediately behind her, the one who somehow managed to appear to be observing his every move and gesture without looking at him directly. It was a method he knew well as a hunter: beasts of prey grew conscious of a predator’s eyes fixed on them for too long. Therefore it was important to observe without staring constantly at them, using one’s peripheral vision. He did the same with her, and because of this, as Devayani rattled along with her obnoxious prattle, he began to feel a powerful erotic attraction to the maid. ‘How fascinating,’ he said politely, interrupting Devayani in mid-flow as she described at some length the various luxuries she now enjoyed in the palace of the asuras. ‘By the way, what is that maid’s name? Who is she? The one seated immediately behind you, I mean.’

There was a moment of silence from Devayani, while the giggly chatter of the maids continued in the background. Devayani looked frostily at Yayati. ‘Why do you show interest in her, yuvraj? She is merely a maid, one of a thousand who serve me. She is of no importance.’ 

Yayati licked his lips. ‘Yes, of course. I suppose you are right. I just thought perhaps she might be a companion or friend. She is reasonably attractive of face and body. Quite beautiful in fact. And she has lovely…’ he stopped himself from saying too much and settled for simply, ‘…eyebrows.’

He caught a flash of those dark pupils as the one he was speaking of finally acknowledged him with a direct look. And what a look! It was unguarded, smouldering, and openly provocative. There was no doubting that woman’s invitation. Nor the amusement playing upon those thick sensual lips at his praising her…eyebrows! 

Devayani’s eyes narrowed and she snapped her head about as quickly as a cobra lunging. But Sharmishtha was folding a blanket, seemingly intent on the task, her eyes now lowered to the embroidered quilt. 

Devayani turned back to Yayati with a disapproving look, made an obvious effort to clear her mind of the irritation she had felt over the interest he had shown in her maid and said, ‘Enough about me, Yuvraj. Tell me about yourself. You are clearly a sovereign of a great kingdom and high birth and upbringing. Your speech and literate manner suggest you are a man of learning. Do tell me about yourself. Whose son are you? Which kingdom do you govern? Tell me everything.’

Yayati was not pleased with her brusque manner and imperious queries. It was obvious that she was jealous of her maid and resented the interest he showed in the girl. That in itself suggested a petty spiteful nature. But to summarily make demands of him about his father and family was unbecoming. It was the kind of question her parents would have been entitled to ask, and even they would have used a more polite and respectful tone. Devayani acted as if she were an empress and he a visiting suitor. He began to wonder what he had ever seen in this girl. It was quite evident that the vision he had rescued that day was more a creature of his imagining than reality. He wished only to leave and continue with his hunt. Besides, he was genuinely thirsty, as were his horses, and the river was the only source of water for yojanas around. He noticed that Devayani had been dipping her feet in a container of water to wash off the unguents and oils her maid had used to massage them with, so she had water to hand. Yet even with a thousand maids present, not once did she offer him a drink of water or enquire after his needs. Only his breeding kept him from stalking away without a response. 

‘My name is Yayati. I am a king and the son of a king, and like all kings of my line, I spent the first twenty five years of my life in brahmacharya-ashrama, by the side of my illustrious guru, steeping myself in knowledge of the Vedas.’ He did not elaborate further, deliberately leaving her pertinent questions unanswered. He would rather have taken the maid aside and walked with her through the forest to the river, talking with her. She looked to be much better company than this high and mighty queen of a thousand maids!

She noted his displeasure, and also the direction in which his eyes kept glancing. It irritated her even more. Instead of changing her attitude, she grew even more arrogant. ‘So what brings a great king such as yourself to this aranya? Have you come hunting deer? I know that kings love to hunt down and kill a defenseless doe. Or perhaps,’ she added coyly, ‘you hoped to collect lotus flowers instead?’ Her meaning was underlined by the look she gave him, sidling her eyes sideways to indicate the maid beside her and the many others clustered nearby, some quite pleasing to the eye. ‘We are quite famous for the beauty of our lotuses.’

That was as much as Yayati was able to tolerate. There were limits even for a well-mannered king. He stood up slowly, making a show of being weary. ‘I was hunting earlier and came by to seek water for myself and my mounts.’ He paused, noting that even now she did not bother to offer him a drink of water, or to send some of her many servants to fetch it. ‘You are given to speaking a great deal. I will take your leave now.’ He turned to go, moving in the direction of the river. At once, the chatter of the maids died down, resulting in a hushed, shocked silence. Everyone knew what had happened and reacted: Devayani had been rude to the handsome young king! And now he was leaving. She felt their eyes judging and assessing her and couldn’t stand it. 

Devayani sprang to her feet. It was a little more awkward than it used to be as she had put on more than a little weight, thanks to her constant pampering and self-indulgences. She called out to Yayati, stretching her hand out in his direction: 

‘Raje!’

Yayati paused, glancing back over his shoulder. His face did not look like the face of a man interested in staying a moment longer. It was only out of sheer politeness that he had even stopped. As far as he was concerned, he had no desire to see Devayani ever again. The maid on the other hand… ‘Yes?’ he answered curtly, not bothering with her name or even a honorific. 

‘I was remiss in my hospitality,’ she said. ‘I was only seeking to exchange a few pleasantries first. I should have realized you must be tired and thirsty from a long ride and from hunting wild game. Pray, do me the honour of seating yourself once more and I shall place all my maids at your service to fetch whatever you wish to eat or drink.’ 

Yayati looked at her warily, but remained where he was. ‘I had best be on my way. A short visit to the river to water my horses and myself and I shall return to my kingdom.’ 

Devayani realized she would have to do more than just be polite now. She saw the direction in which his eyes glanced even now and pounced upon the opportunity. 

‘Sharmishtha!’ she cried. 

Sharmishtha frowned and rose to her feet. ‘Yes, mistress.’

Devayani gestured towards Sharmishtha. ‘This is Sharmishtha,’ she said to Yayati directly. ‘She is my personal maid. She is enslaved to me for life. She and my thousand other maid servants can fetch you anything you desire. Please, stay a while. It will be pleasant to talk awhile longer.’

Yayati turned and came towards the spot where he had sat earlier. His eyes were fixed on Sharmishtha even as he spoke to Devayani. ‘Perhaps I shall stay a brief while longer,’ he said. ‘But only a brief while.’

‘What is your pleasure, sire?’ Sharmishtha asked, in a voice and manner that were servile yet still provocative, a combination that instantly raised Devayani’s hackles and aroused Yayati’s emotions. ‘Name your desire and I shall fulfill it.’

Devayani raised a hand as if intending to strike out with it, then with visible effort, lowered it again. Her teeth bit into her lips while her eyes glared daggers at Sharmishtha. The maid seemed unaware or unconcerned by her mistress’s agitation. She took three steps forward toward Yayati, her delicate silver payals tinkling suggestively, hips swaying, then bent to her knees before the king. He looked down at her, his lips parted slightly. 

‘May I have some water to drink, please?’ he said.

‘Certainly,’ Devayani said loudly, taking charge of the situation again. ‘Sharmishtha…’ she began sharply, then reconsidered and corrected herself. ‘No, never mind. You girls,’ she pointed randomly at a group of girls nearby. ‘Fetch water, wine and refreshments for Maharaja Yayati. Move quickly!’ She turned back to Sharmishtha. ‘Place one of my cushions here that the king may seat himself more comfortably.’ 

Sharmishtha obeyed without response. Yayati watched her as she moved with swaying hips and tinkling anklets, leaning over, bending down, crouching, stretching out, and rearranging the cushions. Devayani watched Yayati as he watched Sharmishtha and two high points of colour began to blaze on her cheekbones. She looked as if she would dearly love to whip the maid if not for the fact that her male visitor might find even that punitive act to be pleasing to watch. She settled for changing her tack. 

‘Raje, please refresh yourself,’ she said, gesturing at the maids who had returned bearing jugs and bowls and vessel containing every kind of food and drink that was available. Yayati gladly did so, for he had been on the hunt for three days, riding far and wide without food and with scarce water. Devayani was more careful about how she spoke and what she said, and as nourishment entered his body and he felt the warm satisfaction of a full belly and a slaked thirst, he began to look upon her less judgementally. Devayani could be a fine performer once she set her mind to it. And she had decided that she would outmatch Sharmishtha now. It was her goal to ensure that the king had eyes for none other than Devayani herself. She laughed mellifluously, throwing her head back to reveal her long flowing neck, stretched out langurously, bent over to pick up fruits, kicked out her legs, and did everything she could to demonstrate that she was no less desirable a woman than her enticing maid. She threw herself into the part body and soul and as he ate and drank and was amused by her witticisms and comments, Yayati began to feel that she was not as bad as he had thought after all. He still thought of her as pampered and self-indulgent but she was not without her charms. In some ways, she could even be considered beautiful and desirable. 

Devayani persuaded Yayati to linger with her in the forest for a day or two, on the pretext of showing him a rare grove where unusual deer roved, a pond where the most beautiful lotus flowers blossomed and similar ploys. Yayati, for his part, had come this way precisely to see Devayani, if not this Devayani then the vision he had first seen in the well, and as the hours turned into days, and Devayani’s masterful performance only deepened in excellence and mastery, he could not help but fall under her spell. There was also the added attraction of having Sharmishtha around. From time to time, when Devayani’s guard was down or she was momentarily absent, he found his eyes seeking out the alluring maid. More than once, she figured in his thoughts when laying to sleep at night on Devayani’s overly effeminate cushions and blankets. He even mused on the possibility of calling her to his sleeping pallet at night, when Devayani was asleep. But Devayani was too shrewd to let such a thing occur right under her very nose; she took the precaution of having Sharmishtha’s wrist tethered to her own, under the pretext that if she, Devayani, happened to wander away in her sleep at night, Sharmishtha would keep her safe. Sharmishtha knew what Devayani was doing but could neither object nor do anything about it. She contented herself with shooting knowing glances at Yayati at every opportunity and permitting him glimpses of her when possible. One night, she made sure to change her garments directly in front of a lit lamp, so that her naked shadow was projected onto a flimsy sheet that was hung on a branch to afford her privacy, knowing that Yayati was watching on the other side of the sheet. After bathing, she did not dress by the river but ran back circuitously so that he would catch a glimpse of her through the trees, just enough to tantalize and arouse his desires, yet never enough to satisfy. It became a game between them to seduce the king. Yayati was aware of it and enjoyed it to the hilt. After all, he could not lose at this particular game! Or so he thought. 

It was Devayani who made the killing move. One day, during the visit to the lotus pond, she deliberately permitted a moment of intimacy to blossom into hesitant passion between them. Even as their bodies brushed against each other fully clothed, hands intertwining, she sighed deeply, then pulled away. The maids had been told to wait a distance away, and even Sharmishtha was not with them, for Devayani had planned her move meticulously.