Indian Spice

"There are no gold-paved streets." I said forcibly.

"And I am well aware of how life is for the poor in London. Girls everywhere in the world sell themselves when they need food and clothing. India and Britain are no different. Nowhere is it any different for the unfortunate."

"And I'm aware that you fear the same fate might befall you."

I reacted in stunned horror at such a suggestion.

"I have money."

"Do you? Enough to sustain you indefinitely? Or did you come in search of a husband because you heard the Workhouse and brothels of east London calling for you after the death of your husband when you realised the money would eventually run out?"

I stared forward in silence. I could not voice those fears, but her words were true. I had only sufficient funds for a year or two, then I would be in a predicament. What would I do then?

"How has your search for a suitor gone?"

"Captain Andrews..." I muttered unconvincingly.

"I met his acquaintance again yesterday evening and I hope to do so again, perhaps at the next dance if not before."

"You should not.

Captain Andrews is already married. He took a wife two years ago. Another girl who arrived from England. She is quite dowdy and you are a mere distraction. Forbidden fruit. A dalliance."

That shocked me. The disappointment must have been expressed clearly on my face.

"You're lying."

"You think the English soldiers are the epitome of virtue. But they are just men. Captain Andrews only views you as a foolish young girl. Naive and easily manipulated. Were he to see you again it would only be his intention to lead you into the depravity you fear."

"I cannot believe that." I protested.

Grasping a breath I turned my anger back at Mia.

"You dare to talk of depravity. Is your life so different to a brothel? You are the Maharaja's wife and yet you serve his sinful needs as he wishes and allow him to take many other girls to his bed.

Those murals... depraved acts. Have you performed all of them for your... master?"

I was unaccustomed to letting my anger show so blatantly, but I could not help myself.

Maya didn't react, instead, her voice remained magically calm.

"The Purdah system is many thousands of years old. You have yet to look past the sin you believe your god protects you from and see the beauty of satisfaction. In Purdah we find peace.

In your system, you serve your men when they require it. Then you look the other way when they go elsewhere for more. You lie to yourselves while accepting less than you deserve. We are honest in our needs and honour those who partake."

I sat in silence for the rest of the journey contemplating Maya's lesson. For it was a lesson no matter how much I hated admitting it. I had seen love. I had seen an enjoyment and pleasure that I had never experienced. And I had felt the call of my body, the unfamiliar sensations and thoughts that filled me as I'd watched their joining.

Even now the embers of my awakened lust smouldered in my loins. I would have no choice but to peel back the petals of my fairest flower in search of that blissful agony at the earliest opportunity.

I search for another reason to fuel my anger.

"You talk of beauty and peace and yet you require eunuchs. How is it peaceful to steal a man's masculinity? To take his very manhood with the slice of a knife?"

Maya looked unphased by my change of tact.

"I think you are under a misplaced illusion. The eunuchs at my villa are indeed the result of a knife cut. But they come from the Hijra community. People who are neither male nor female. They are a prized people in Indian culture. It is a way of life unique to them and their children often give themselves to the practice willingly.

No eunuch at the villa has had his manhood taken by force. Each gave it willingly to serve the Maharaja."

"Why would anyone give themselves to such an abhorrent thing?"

"Members of the Hijra serve in positions of great prominence. And those who have undergone full emasculation are of immense value as guards that can be freely trusted amongst the wives and concubines of a Maharaja."

"Full emasculation?"

I started to realise the practice was more involved than that of gelding a horse."

Maya still did not view it as anything other than an acceptable practice.

"A man who retains his staff can still be a... distraction to a woman whose attention should be only on her Maharaja. So yes. Only those where all is removed are permitted to act in the role of guarding purdah."

I shuddered.

"You show me what you call spiritual beauty and yet it goes hand in hand with barbarism."

"Do Jews not circumcise their newborn?"

"It is hardly the same.

I wonder how you would feel if someone removed your femininity?"

I clamped my thighs tightly beneath my dress at such a thought, though I could not envisage how such a thing would be achieved with a cunny.

Maya seemed unperturbed by such an idea.

"There are many societies that remove a woman's genitalia. As with a eunuch, I would view it as abhorrent as you if it was done forcibly. If I chose it then I should hope you would accept it as my choice."

Again I cringed as she gave an image of what it might involve and wished I'd never broached the subject.

"Our worlds are very different." I said in finality.

When we arrived back Maya stood in my way determined to work her dark magic on me one last time that day.

"You are a beautiful young lady. I only want that you experience what god, yours or mine, has given you to enjoy."

Maya's fingers dragged across my cheek and over my mouth like a lover might. Her other hand was entwined with my digits while her face was so close that I could feel each breath as it left her mouth over moist lips.

I knew what she was doing. Like bellows, she was fanning the fire in me. A purposeful manipulation of the animal lurking in my soul. I knew now what Maya was. An illusion of respectability that hid a temptress. A Dayan. Indeed, she was a witch.

I pulled away hardly noticing the faint taste of spice on my lips left in the trail of her finger.

"I must go."

I almost ran into my lodgings, desperate to be alone in my room. Again my head span in a fog of confusion and lust gripped my loins.

I lifted my dress as soon as the door was closed and wriggled out of my knickers. My fingers found sodden, swollen soft flesh as I gasped with relief at the first touch. I closed my eyes and peeled my flower open. Fingers pushed in to seek the silky velvet of my tunnel. It tingled delightfully under exploring digits.

"Oh my God." I muttered.

Nectar escaped onto my thighs, coating me in sweet juices just as Nisha had been. I fell to my bed and writhed, squeezing my soft pliable cunny, tormenting the little boy in the boat. My head was filled with images of Daksh's steed. I could see its swollen crown, the rigid shaft while Nisha's hand worked him, and then the explosion of his seed. A creamy white stream that had coated her dusky bosom.

Within moments I was bringing myself to a moment of sweet death.

"Uhhhhh...Uh.

God, yes."

I shuddered from head to toe. My flesh tingled with prickly heat.

"Uhh."

My back arched sharply and my legs snapped together with a life of their own around my hands and I rolled onto my knees.

A moment later I found myself calming, laying in sweat-soaked clothes with my rounded mouth and virgins flower both pointing skyward.

It felt wonderful. But I questioned if it should. God had deserted me I decided. Perhaps my own emasculation would not be such a terrible thing if it removed this ungodly fire from my loins.

That evening, the good Captain called for me again. I stepped out with him enthusiastically, but I wondered if he was so good. Did Maya speak the truth about him? Or had it been a lie to entwine me into her duplicity?

"Shall we walk by the river?" He suggested.

"If it pleases you."

I let him take my arm and lead me away from the small homestead. I was content in his company. It was a little piece of English decorum after my experience earlier in the day. Polite conversation that held no apparent ulterior motive.

There were no lights and it was dark as we stepped through the line of Neem trees, their dense crowns blocking the moonlight.

"It is so very quiet along this way in the evenings apart from the sound of the river." He said.

I heard the gurgle of water ahead and as we emerged onto the river bank I saw the flicker of pale light catching the moving water.

This was where local women came to bathe and wash their clothes in the early mornings. In the cooler air of nighttime, it seemed a different world.

"We're alone. No one comes here at night."

Captain Andrews pulled me to a stop and stepped in front of me.

"You are very beautiful Rayne.

May I call you Rayne?"

I blushed.

"I'm sure there are very many young ladies equally or more attractive than me."

"Not so."

He moved closer, blocking my way when I turned to put some distance between us. I started to feel uncomfortable at a change in his tone.

"Please. I'd like to go back now." I said firmly as I sensed he had other thoughts in mind.

I stepped to his side to go past but he grabbed me by the wrist.

"That isn't what you want at all."

I was pushed backwards. Captain Andrews was strong, stronger than I could resist as he pressed me against a tree, forcing his mouth against mine.

"No." I protested.

His hand gripped my breast through my bodice and I felt fear at his determination.

"Calm yourself. Please.

Remember. You are a married man."

I saw the flicker of surprise in his eyes, caught by the bright moonlight of a cloudless sky.

"Who told you? That witch?"

He tried to kiss me again and I turned my face away, struggling against his grip.

"Please, sir. Stop."

He used his weight to pin me.

"You know I'm married and yet you still came here with me tonight. You're nothing but a dirty little whore.

Now let's be having you."

I felt my dress rising, pulled up by a hand that sought to find my bare flesh. A panic gripped me. Had I travelled halfway across the world to be treated like a dolly mop, a harlot with no morals?

"Please. Stop."

He did. But not at my insistence. It was the voice of a young man, an Indian shouting out from where he stood in the shadows that broke his spell.

"What do you want?" He snapped turning from me.

For a moment I stood in a daze, staring at the young man who had proved to be my saviour. He was no more than late teens, no match for the soldier, but he held his ground seeing my predicament.

"Away with you before I have you clapped in irons."

Captain Andrews took a step toward the native, his raised hand showing his intent. It was his mistake as I was free of his grasp.

I saw the young native still standing firm. Our eyes connected and as if we were one, both I and the young man ran. He into the trees and me toward my lodgings.

"Come back here."

I heard Captain Andrews's voice, tainted with malice carry on the night air. I took comfort in the sense that it was some way behind me and kept running. It was awkward in my heavy dress and dainty boots. I was tired and sweating as I neared what passed as civilisation in this foreign land.

I was almost there when near exhaustion I chanced a glance back. Captain Andrews wasn't pursuing me.

With the ranch in sight, I stopped to calm myself and straighten my clothing. I went back to the safety of the Coolidge's home. I was grateful to the young native for saving me from something terrible and unimaginable. I only regretted that I had been unable to thank him.

FIVE

I hoped I wouldn't see Maya any time soon. She had colonised my mind as surely as Britain had occupied and subjugated India. I needed to purge the evil she'd awakened within me before I became a lost soul.

After my unfortunate encounter with Captain Andrews and Maya's theatrics of the day before, I remained in my rooms the following day. I had no wish to see Maya again, and especially not Captain Andrews.

I would like to have found my saviour to express my gratitude. The chances of that in a country with a population of nearly two hundred million were slim.

By the evening my mood on both events had softened and I found myself tormented by thoughts of Daksh and his sweet wife Nisha. No matter how I felt it wrong to have watched their display, and the circumstances in which it had occurred, I could not escape the realisation it had been beautiful and arousing. It troubled me that I felt so. It was a sin against god to find enjoyment in such depraved behaviour.

Again I had prayed for strength into the early hours before attempting to find peace in my disturbed slumber. I had awoken again later in the night with the realisation that I'd been rebuffed, abandoned to the devil that waited within me. And again I'd answered the call with fingers that urgently worked my sinful notch while my head filled with a vision of Daksh's staff and ballocks.

"Uh."

No matter how much I felt this act was an abomination, I could not deny it was joyous.

"Mmm."

I shuddered, pushing my fingers deeper into the forbidden territory of my cunny and the welcoming, warm wetness that gripped them. I went on with the caress until I felt the weakening of my consciousness and with a sudden blissful wave, I was momentarily taken by the little death.

"Uhhh."

After that, I slept peacefully free of my torture.

I took breakfast with the old couple, conscious of how sound travelled freely in the wooden construction of their home. I reddened each time I came under their gaze wondering if they had heard my indiscretions.

After, I walked to the bazaar. Maya would come looking for me. Of that I was certain. I hoped here to lose myself in the crowds. Fearful that I would fall under her spell again if she found me.

It was noisy and busy. Stall holders bartering over their goods, shouting and babbling as they tried to capture other customers at the same time while serving their current ones.

Earthenware pots filled with spices scented the air. Other stalls were lined with wicker baskets filled with fruits while at yet another meat hung openly, attracting flies.

Street conjurers plied their trade for handouts and a musician played a flute in the hope of a gracious donation from passers-by. To me, it was a colourful fancy. Something to take my mind from where Maya had led it. An opportunity to purge the devil from my thoughts.

I stopped at a display of fine silk and cotton, all decorated in rich reds and greens with gold or silver threads. Patterns and motifs so typically of the subcontinent. The vendor was as animated as any other, trying to encourage me in his native tongue to come closer. I smiled politely and walked on, drawn by the smell of cumin and peanut oil.

"Do you know that India is rich in spices?"

I recognised the voice behind me instantly. Not an unexpected one. I answered without turning.

"One would think you are a common conjurer the way you appear from thin air?"

Maya ignored my comment and continued with her tutorial.

"And that India is one of the most populated countries in the world?"

I stopped and turned finding as expected the mysterious Maharani. Her naturally ruby lips were already fixed with that infectious smile.

"The two are not without reason."

Maya stepped closer to the spice stall I'd all but reached. She pointed as she continued with whatever lesson she had in mind for me today. It had been just moments and already I was her slave.

"Cloves heat the body from within.

Ginger increases desire."

She moved her finger to each in turn.

"Cardamom relieves tiredness.

Fenugreek seeds, bring fire to a man.

And nutmeg will raise his..."

"Is there a point to this?" I interjected before she could say anything which might embarrass me.

"Only to explain why we are such a populous people."

I coloured a little at her suggestion.

"Indian merchants traded these spices across this part of the world a thousand years before your saviour was born. When England was but a mere collection of warring tribes. And through a time when you were part of someone else's Empire. Times change. Civilisations rise and fall. But the spices remain and India remains."

"What are you trying to tell me?"

Maya dipped a finger into a jar of some powder I didn't recognise while the merchant curiously didn't press his trade on her as he did others. She tasted it with an approving look on her face.

"Spices are in the food. Everything you eat or drink here is bringing you closer to understanding the spiritual nature of life. The spices flow through your blood feeding the fire you fight."

"Then perhaps I should avoid it and eat mutton and potatoes."

She stopped with her curiosity and turned her attention fully to me.

"Or cucumber sandwiches at Buckingham Palace."

"You mock me."

"Perhaps."

She took me by the arm.

"Tell me. Did you not extinguish the fire again last night? Did you not feel the ecstasy? Did you not wish someone else was helping you to that glory, as Daksh and Nisha helped one another?"

I started walking as my face coloured yet again, led by this bewitching Indian Princess who would not relinquish her magic over me.

"It is not polite to talk of such things. Especially in public where we can be heard."

"Few here speak English. But all will understand what you do not."

"And I cannot say I care to understand. You have shown me things of such depravity that I care not to think about them any longer."

"And yet you still quench the fire that burns in you nightly."

"I do not." I protested perhaps a little too forcibly.

"Some here would say the English are deceivers. If that is so then you are a poor example. You deceive no one."

I flushed brightly and looked away from her mocking.

Maya attracted my attention back by manoeuvring me towards a silk vendor. She waved the owner away as soon as he tried to approach with the persistent sales patter they all had. It was clear everyone here knew Maya's importance and showed deference to her.

"Rich cloths and silk are also another trading commodity for our land. Can you not see yourself in Indian colours? Teasing your Captain Andrews?"

I tensed at the mention of him.

"I will not be taking Captain Andrews's acquaintance again." I said with an uncustomary firmness.

Maya smiled.

"Of that, I am glad. He had ill intentions toward you as you have no doubt discovered."

I wondered if she was aware of the other night. Her witch status was enhanced by knowledge she could not possibly have. Unless the boy had been her spy? Sent to watch me. Or protect me from a danger Maya had recognised with greater clarity than I.

But who would protect me from Maya?

She moved on undisturbed by my questioning look.

"You are wrapped in layer upon layer, muslin and wool. Your waist is constrained by whalebone and lace. Your English decency leaves you stifled and unable to breathe."

She picked up a roll of fine material and stretched it out between her spread arms.

"This is silk. It will keep you warm in the cool season and expel heat in the sun. This is what I wear, a simple rectangle of material wrapped around me as a Sari. Comfortable and un-restricting."

I couldn't deny that my clothing was becoming a burden in the heat. But to dress as a native would be the ultimate betrayal of who I was.

"We have silk. We import it from here in exchange for manufactured goods." I offered.

"But you make handkerchiefs, and dresses for old ladies with it. To be free you have to feel free.

Does my Sari not decently cover me in the eyes of the Christian god? And yet I have freedom to my movement and air to my body."

I realised then that Maya wore only the red silk garment, wrapped around her waist and up over her shoulder.