Flashback continued...
Suddenly, Vibhorarth paused, remembering the other thing in his hand. He turned back and asked. "General, would you like to eat a laddoo? It has already been tested for poison."
Everyone knew that the stern-faced and moody General Dushyant only had one weakness - sweets!
"Where did the laddoo come from in this forsaken place?" Dushyant asked him in a disquieting voice.
Vibhorarth quickly told him about the wedding procession which had passed by a few minutes ago. He even described the hilarious reaction of his teammate when he saw the bride!
Dushyant's face turned dark and he quickly said, "Has the foggy wind addled all your brains? Which groom travels across borders the very next day of marriage on a cold winter morning instead of staying in the bedchambers, enjoying the marital bliss? Bring my horse quickly. Have two people follow me. NOW!"
Vibhorarth paled and quickly ran out of the hut. He had been lulled into false security by the in-your-face, harmless looking carriage and the friendly riders.
"Damn! I hope I haven't let some wanted criminals pass through. I don't want my career to be so short-lived!" Vibhorarth prayed fervently to the Moon god.
Within five minutes, Dushyant was on his favourite horse, 'Garud' and was sprinting away in the direction of Mandhaar, where the carriage had gone. Even as the cold wind lashed out against his thick white fur cloak, his mind was trying to find a reason behind Mathematician Gangadhar's sudden abduction.
All people of significance across borders had been given nicknames by Dushyant and his think-tank. 'Cuckoo bird' was Gangadhar's alias.
The eccentric, young mathematician had invented many important things but there were some silly and useless contraptions also that he had made. One of them was a cuckoo clock. It was a palm sized tree with a hole and a small but complex winding mechanism fitted inside which had to be winded every day. At the change of every prahar (three hour duration), a cuckoo bird came out of that gap in the tree and chirped, indicating the end of the period. Hence the name…
As per Viborarath's narrative, it had been no more than ten minutes since the group left the border post. They couldn't have gone too far yet, especially on this rocky terrain.
Urging his horse to break into a gallop, Dushyant navigated through the narrow and uneven path expertly. On one side of this path was the giant mountain range, and on the other side was the deep valley, whose bottom couldn't even be seen from this height.
This was a treacherous path and barely had space for a carriage to go through. During the peak of winters, even the bravest of soldiers struggled to stay and survive here. This was the reason why Dushyant had been sent on the mission before the deadly winter set in.
"Beware!!" Dushyant suddenly called out to the two lieutenants behind him and came to an abrupt halt.
A person was lying face down on the muddy path, blocking their way. By the size and messy hair of the person, it seemed to be a young, comatose girl. But such a scene in this wilderness was nothing short of a suspicious set-up.
He motioned to Vibhorarth to dismount and check out the person.
The young lad remained on high alert even when he reached the girl. He banged his sturdy boot against the person's body, not bothering to hold back the force. But there was no reaction from the apparently fainted girl. With no choice, he squatted down and turned her body around, ready to check her breath.
But the next moment, he was stunned. A gorgeous and guileless girl laid there, bloody and badly bruised. Despite the ugly wounds, she was breathtakingly beautiful, making him forget everything else.
Subconsciously, he leaned in closer, only to feel her feathery breath on his face.
Both the horse and its owner, Dushyant, snorted with impatience. "Is the person dead?"
Dushyant could vaguely see the wounds on the person's face from his position.
Vibhorarth stared at the girl, almost in a daze. After a moment, he breathed a sigh of relief and looked at the general.
"Thankfully, she is alive," he didn't realise how joyful his voice was at the moment.
Dushyant raised an eyebrow at the enthusiastic reaction and said after a moment, "Shift her to the side of the path. On our return, we will take her back with us."
The young guy was dismayed at the thought of the wounded beauty lying on the hard ground in such freezing temperature for so long. Moreover, she was thinly clad in a fine silk long dress which was now torn in many places.
Her body seemed to have received bruises as well. Poor thing! Her foot lay twisted at an unnatural angle.
Even though he was really scared of his young general, Vibhorarth bravely raised his voice and said, "General, can… may… I stay here and…"
His remaining sentence got stuck in his throat when he caught Dushyant's eye. The general was famous for his hot temper and the person at the receiving end usually didn't recover well from it for a long time.
Despite knowing all of that, he was reluctant in his heart.
Lowering his gaze, he started to rise up. Suddenly, he heard a whimper, almost like a mewl and the cuff of his sleeve was grasped by slender and fair fingers. Another aromatic breath went past his cheek, tickling his heart.
Stunning grey eyes peeked out from under thick, straight eyelashes and looked at him as if he was her saviour. Her rosebud mouth opened softly and begged him in the native language of Adra. "Wa… water."
Even though he didn't know the language, the lieutenant understood her request and immediately pulled the leather flask off his belt. He sat down completely on the ground and slid his arm underneath the beauty's frail and injured neck carefully, as if she were made of the finest porcelain.
Bringing the flask to her mouth, he saw her greedily latch onto it with her full lips and gulp in the water. There was something so sensuous about this movement of hers that he turned red, like a boiled shrimp.
His heart had turned into a mess!