A glance at the darkened sky confirmed the hour. It was well past closing time, about two and a half hours after the sunset gong, when the young general and his men finally reached the market square. While the usual crowd had already thinned out, a few stragglers stared in surprise at seeing them gallop past.

Satya! Please be safe! 

Veerata voiced a silent prayer as he brought his horse to a halt at the bottom of the market road. He regretted the impromptu trip into the forest. On learning Charaka was in town looking for Satya, he had jumped on his horse and set off for her store with his men in tow. A strange sense of foreboding gnawed at his soul. He could only hope he wasn’t too late. In the distance, he spotted the new chemist store next to the playground, under the shadow of a large ashoka tree. The open windows revealed light and movement inside, yet hid the full truth.

 Sanjaya and Harita rode up alongside the young general.

“Is that the place?” Sanjaya asked.

Veerata nodded.

“The light’s still on,” Harita observed.

“Uncle Madhava should be here to pick her up soon. I’ll wait here until then. You two, go to the mayor’s palace and summon my guards.”

“Senapati,” Sanjaya suggested. “Are you sure this, Charaka, is the same assassin who tried to kill Anjalika?”

Veerata shook his head. “We can’t be sure of anything until we confirm his identity. But it might be too late by then. Last time I ran into him, he tried to kidnap Satya right in front of me. I just want to make sure she’s unharmed,” he reasoned. “Now go! Both of you!”

“As you command, Senapati!” They saluted the young general together, turned their mounts around and sped away towards the mayor’s palace.

Meanwhile, Veerata proceeded towards the store, half expecting Satya to emerge from the open doorway and dispel all his fears. Before his horse crossed a couple of yards, a figure stumbled over the threshold.

“Help! Help! Someone help!”

Recognising the florist, Veerata charged forward and jumped off the horse as he reached her side. “What happened?” he asked.

“Senapati?” the old woman looked bewildered on seeing him. The sight of blood on her hands and her sari unnerved him. He grabbed her shoulders and shook her roughly.

“What happened? Where’s Satya?”

The florist raised a shaking finger and pointed at the entrance.

“Please, help her,” she muttered.

Then she rolled her eyes and fell senseless to the ground. Leaving the stricken old woman to her fate, Veerata rushed to the open door and trembled in dismay at the dreadful sight. Inside, Satya lay sprawled on her stomach in the middle of the room. Dying embers of a burnt fabric lay on the floor beside her. Smoking scorched patches on her uniform revealed fresh scarlet bruises all over her body.

“Satya!” Veerata cried in anguish. He took a step in her direction and froze on the spot. To his horror, his body wouldn’t move.

“Senapati Veerata, we meet again!”

The voice was unmistakable, igniting his worst nightmare. Unable to move his head, Veerata’s eyes darted about the room, looking for the speaker.

Dressed in black from head to toe, Charaka lounged casually on the bottom step of the rear staircase. Wicked black eyes set in a pale face stared back at the young general. The mask covering his mouth failed to hide the malicious smirk playing on his lips. Stout, brown dreadlocks cascaded from the top of his head down to his shoulders. In contrast, a garland of orange marigolds hung from his neck.

“Charaka, what have you done to her?” Veerata roared.

“Impressive, Senapati,” the masked man drawled. “You’re under my hypnosis spell, but you can still speak? Very few can manage such a feat.”

“Release me!”

“Not yet. I still have some work left to do.”

He stood up and walked slowly towards Satya.

“Don’t you dare touch her!” Veerata’s whole body shook in fury, fighting hard against the spell that restricted him.

“Relax,” Charaka sneered. “She’s not dead yet, but she will be if I don’t heal her soon.”

He knelt down beside her, spread his hands a few inches above her back, and concentrated hard. As Veerata watched in amazement, Satya’s wounds blazed with an iridescent glow. Slowly, her skin mended and her muscles relaxed.

“See? As good as new,” Charaka said. “Not even a scar left. Not on her body, at least. I can’t vouch for her mind, though. She’ll probably need lots of rest now.”

Veerata gritted his teeth. “Why did you attack her?”

“I didn’t!” Charaka looked up in mock surprise. “Honestly, I swear! She can tell you all about it when she wakes up.” His devilish smirk returned under the mask. “We were just playing a little game—that old woman, Satya, and I.”

“Release me, you coward,” Veerata growled. “Fight me! No spells or tricks! Fight me like a true Kshatriya!”

Charaka’s eyes grew deathly serious. “You’re mistaken, Senapati, if you think you’re a match for me. Last time, you were lucky to escape my blade.”

“Lucky? Ha! You jumped into a portal to save your life because you knew you couldn’t fight me. You’re nothing but a coward. Why are you trying to kidnap Satya?”

“Kidnap? No! Not this time. Just wanted to speak to her. But Senapati, I don’t need to tell you anything, do I?” When he finished healing her, Charaka jumped up on his feet and walked past Veerata. “I’m leaving,” he stated. “When she wakes up, be sure to tell her I’ll be in touch soon.” Stopping at the threshold, he turned and added. “And tell her uncle to check the bars on the window in the room above. Easily loosened. Only takes slight force. Makes a perfect entry point for any assassin.”

As Charaka left the store and vanished into the night, his spell broke, and Veerata could move again. Immediately, he rushed to Satya’s side. At any other time, he would have gone after Charaka. But he couldn’t leave Satya alone in this condition. Her upper garment had turned to charred rags. Blood stained her lower garment.

Did she lose a lot of blood?

Kneeling beside her, he untied his own upper garment and draped it over her body. Gently, he turned her onto her back and helped her sit up.

“Satya,” he called, “can you hear me?”

Sweat shone on her forehead, yet her skin felt hot and feverish. Her eyes remained closed while her lips were slightly parted. Thankfully, her breathing was stable. As he wrapped the cloth around her shoulders and torso, her pretty little head dropped into his chest. Patting her cheek to revive her, he whispered again.

“Satya, wake up! Please, wake up!”

“Sister… Sister…,” she mumbled.

Sister?

He wondered if she had lost a sibling, too, along with her parents. Hugging her close, he felt relief overpower his reasoning. Despite her ordeal, she was safe and asleep in his arms. It was nothing less than a miracle.