Hell Hath No Fury

Hell Hath No Fury

Saubhagyawati walked showing of the puja thaal in her hands to not risk exposure of her task. As far as her baba was concerned, she was going to the temple to offer prayers. Her baba had smiled sadly as he gave her permission and went back to working on medicines. Her father was a man of honour and principles and after Rajkumari Ajabde baisa had been abandoned by the royal family, he had made a trip to Mewar to bring his daughter back. She remembered the way he had given an earful to her husband,

It is clear to me that your loyalty lies with your friend, so I’m going to make this easy for you. I’m taking my daughter with me. She will not stay in a place that does not respect girls.

Her heart had ached when Pandit Chakrapani Mishra did nothing to stop his father in law or his wife. She had looked at him, but he had turned his face away. Later, when the Afghans attacked, and no help arrived from Chittor, she knew that all relationships were dead. She informed her father about her wish to learn self-defence so that if things became tough, she could defend her honour. Her father had agreed hesitantly and so she trained in self-defence and medicine. Being the daughter of the doctor came with its perks. She had worked with medicinal herbs, poisonous berries and leaves, paste for open wounds, drink for the delusional but under her father’s careful guidance she learned surgery, stitching battle wounds, and making deadly poisons.

She quickly tied the note to the pigeon and saw it fly high. She needed to inform Baijilal about the developments in Chittor. It was the duty assigned to her by Ajabde baisa herself,

You are the only one I can trust, take care of everything in my absence. Be my eyes and ears. You know the way to contact me.

Ajabde looked at the trinket she had discovered at Dhaman Singh’s cell the night she had been attacked. Catching the culprit was quite easy except for his interference, she scowled as the memory came alive

Ajabde was aware of the presence around her. She had seen the extra leaves fallen on the ground near the big tree, the upper branches were low and even with wind leaves hustling was quite low. Her hand rested on the dagger tucked in the waist as she waited for the perfect moment for the hit.

The assassin smiled on seeing his target in his range, “now be good and stay still for only a minute.”

As he took aim, a pigeon attacked him head-on causing a flutter around. The assassin shooed the bird away only to realise he had given away his presence. Next thing he saw was the dagger flying straight at him.

The sound of applause made Pratap take off the blindfold. He had been training his sword skills with the blindfold. The sight of Ajabde taking down the assassin all by herself was fresh in his mind.

He turned her towards him making sure she was unharmed.

“I’m not the one who needs first aid,” she pointed at the assassin who lay on the ground with his ankle twisted and a dagger to his shoulder. Pratap looked at the assassin and then back at his wife who seemed unfazed by everything. She took a few steps towards the killer making a frown, “please wait, Ajabde.”

She sighed, “I’m quite capable of taking care of myself. I have been doing it for two years. You do not have to worry about me. If you will excuse me, I need to get back my dagger.”

The children surrounded him impressed with his skills. They begged him to teach them to use swords with the blindfold.

“I will teach you but first master the basics,” he told them patiently. 

The kids smiled, “our basic skills are perfect. Ajabde jija has been training us.”

“Maybe you and Jija should have a match,” one of the kids spoke up, “if you win then we will not trouble you about blindfold training but if Jija wins then…”

Shakta stared in horror as he overheard the children’s plan to make his dadabhai and bhabhisa fight each other. He needed to stop them before it became a reality because Ajabde baisa aka his bhabhisa aka Baijilal was the one person in entire Rajputana that could defeat his dadabhai. His brother had always lost to her, his heart, his life, and now knowing she took down a trained killer all by herself. 

There was no doubt she could defeat his dadabhai. Besides his Ranimaa always told him,

Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned.