AJAYA - RISE OF KALI (Book 2) (55 page)

Krishna managed to extricate the chariot. It was getting dark. The roar of the Ganga had become deafening. Karna could see the Kaurava army rushing to rescue him. Krishna had trapped him by moving away from the battlefield and like a fool, he had given chase. Arjuna’s face became clearer as his chariot approached at great speed. Karna saw hesitation in those eyes. Karna had no charioteer and according to the ethics of war, Krishna had to get down to make things equal. It seemed that Arjuna was arguing with Krishna.

Karna pulled at the reins with one hand, holding his arrow in place with his teeth. The chariot pitched and jerked in the mud. When he felt he was in position, he shot at Arjuna. Karna saw Krishna’s face light up with a smile. The arrow had struck Arjuna’s shoulder. That ended Arjuna’s dilemma. Karna had indicated his willingness to fight without a charioteer. He would not ask for any favours from Arjuna, not after a lifetime of insults and jeers, and never from the man who had taken the woman he had loved. No, this Suta was more Kshatriya than anyone else.

Karna took aim but as he did so, his chariot stopped – the wheels had become stuck in the mud. There was no other way but to get down and extricate them, just as Krishna had done a while before. Swallowing, Karna called out, “Halt there, Arjuna! My wheel is stuck. I ask you to wait till I get my chariot out.”

Arjuna’s raised bow came down and Karna jumped into the slush. Putting his shoulder to the wheel, he started pushing.

“What are you waiting for? Shoot the Suta!” Krishna said, pointing.

“No, Krishna. He is unarmed. It would not be fair.”

“Would not be fair? Does the man deserve fairness? Have you forgotten how he insulted Draupadi in the Sabha? Have you forgotten how he killed Abhimanyu? Shoot him now!”

“Krishna...I cannot. It would be dishonourable.”

“This is your last chance. Look to your right. The Kaurava army has arrived. Kill him and we stand a chance of escaping in the confusion that will follow.”

Arjuna raised his bow and aimed at Karna’s throat. Karna looked up. Surely Arjuna was just posturing? No warrior possessed of even a modicum of honour would shoot a man like this. Karna put his entire weight against the chariot, raising it little by little.

Arjuna’s arrow pierced Karna’s throat, pinning him to the chariot wheel. Karna knew it was over. Shalya had been right, he should have taken the opportunity when it had come. But then he would have been like Arjuna, another puppet, another Kaunteya. He was Karna, son of a poor Suta, a proud Radheya, and he would die that way. He saw Suyodhana jump down from his chariot, lose his balance, fall, get up again and rush towards him. The entire Kaurava army was running towards their fallen Commander. In the confusion, Karna saw Krishna turn his chariot and vanish from the scene. Arjuna never looked back.

Karna could feel Suyodhana’s arms around him but darkness was falling fast. The rain on his unarmoured skin felt like needles of fire. He could faintly hear his friend talking to him. Karna wanted to thank him for everything he had done, for standing up for him when no one else would, for the many things, big and small, that only a friend would understand.

Karna felt Aswathama’s hand grip his own. He heard Suyodhana accusing him of not being there to support Karna when it had mattered. “I thought Karna would be safe. Look at me, Suyodhana, I am bleeding from a hundred cuts. I….I am sorry I was late,” the Brahmin cried, guilt struggling with denial at what he saw.

Had his friend not called him a traitor? ‘But I am not a traitor, Aswathama, and neither are you, my friend,’ thought Karna wearily. ‘Suyodhana, do not blame Aswathama. He had his own reasons for not being there. Look at his body – every inch covered with wounds. Aswathama do not go away! I forgive you, my friend, and you must forgive Suyodhana for his harsh words. Do not leave me now. Stay with me for a few moments more,’ Karna wanted to cry out to Aswathama who was dragging himself away, but he could not speak; he was drowning in his own blood.

‘My friend, I do not want the empire Krishna offered me. If anyone deserves it, it is you, Suyodhana. You gave your unconditional love without asking about my caste when the whole world shunned me. I could not win the war for you, dear friend.’ Garbled words came from Karna’s mouth, meaningless and useless. But no words were necessary. Their friendship went far beyond words. An arrow shot at an unarmed man could not destroy it. Suyodhana pressed his friend to his bosom, his tears washed away by the tears of heaven.

Karna, the man whose life the Gods were fond of playing dice with; the man who had chosen to remain a low-class Suta when an empire was offered to him on a platter, died in his friend’s arms. The war lost all meaning for Suyodhana.

*****

72
   
T
HE
K
ILL

WHEN HE LEARNED AFTER KARNA’S DEATH
that Shalya had abandoned his friend at the most critical juncture, Suyodhana ordered Shalya hunted down and killed. In the small hours of the eighteenth day of the war, as Suyodhana lay tossing in his bed, he sensed a presence in his tent. He sprang up, his warrior instincts alert to the presence of an intruder in his camp.

A figure stood in the shadows, head bent. “Suyodhana, it is I, Shalya. Forgive me for what I have done.”

Grabbing his sword, Suyodhana rushed at the traitor, but Shalya said, “You have every right to kill me. I was a traitor in your camp for I hated the Suta. My ego was hurt when you made me the Suta’s charioteer. I wanted Karna to fail, and discouraged him with my harsh words. All night I hid in the jungles beyond Kurukshetra, thinking about the rights and wrongs of the war. I know I was responsible for the death of the noblest of men. It did not matter that he was a Suta. What I did is hurting me like a dagger in my heart. I came to beg for your forgiveness, a chance to redeem myself. I am a
maharathi
and a better warrior than all the Pandavas. I shall defeat them for you, for the man I cheated. I shall kill Krishna and Arjuna today if you will let me fight for you. But if you prefer to hang me for treason, I am ready for that, too.”

Suyodhana shouted for the guards to tie up Shalya. The maverick had surrendered without protest. Suyodhana was unable to decide whether to trust the blackguard or not. Finally, when dawn was breaking, he walked to Kripa’s camp and sought his advice. The Acharya said they were at a stage when they should accept anyone willing to help them. The situation was desperate. Only a few warriors remained. If he was to make good of the situation, it was best to make Shalya the Commander-in-Chief. Suyodhana consulted Aswathama and Sushasana and they, too, were of the opinion that none was equal to the maverick Shalya in warfare and strategy, provided he bent his sharp mind to it.

Just before battle resumed on the eighteenth day, Suyodhana freed Shalya and appointed him Commander-in-Chief of the Kaurava armies. Shalya bowed to Suyodhana and assumed charge. Kripa watched, an amused smile on his face, as the new Commander called for a strategy meeting. The first thing he did was to ensure there was no hand-to-hand combat or individual duels. They had to attack as a united front; they would break the rules and form unconventional formations that weren’t in any book on warfare. Only winning counted, winning was
dharma,
the new Commander exhorted his troops. Suyodhana felt uneasy, but he had no choice.

The first half of the eighteenth day saw the bloodiest slaughter. Shalya attacked aggressively, defeating Bhima, Nakula and Sahadeva, causing them to retreat hastily with their troops. His aim was to corner Krishna and then kill both him and Arjuna. By the time the sun was a hot ball of fire over their heads and the shadows were short dwarfs running under their feet. Shalya had demolished the last of the Pandava resistance. He tied spikes and lances to the wheels of the chariots and raced through the enemy battalions, cutting down horses, making elephants panic and using lethal powders. Poisonous arrows and oil pots flew fast and furious, creating orbs of fire. The Pandava situation was becoming hopeless. Yudhishtra was overcome by despair.

Krishna manoeuvered his chariot to reach Yudhishtra and told him that he would create a diversion but that Yudhishtra would have to act quickly. He would tempt Shalya to follow him in his chariot and Yudhishtra would then use his lance to strike him down from behind.

Horrified, Yudhishtra protested that he would do no such thing. He had not killed anyone in the war; others had done the butchering for him. “Krishna, I cannot take anyone’s life, even my enemy’s. Life has taught me many things and …”

“Brother, you want us to kill for you while you yourself will not lift your little finger? Talk of
ahimsa
on the battlefield are the words of a coward. Do as Krishna says, or else we are doomed. You are a Kshatriya. We are fighting to make you King,” Arjuna snapped.

“But Shalya is our uncle, the brother of our step-mother, Madri.”

“He is our enemy now. I killed Pitamaha; I killed our beloved Guru for you. Everyone we are fighting is kin, including Duryodhana. This is war, brother. Do your duty, or else
adharma
will triumph,” Arjuna said, his eyes never leaving his brother’s face. Krishna smiled.

Before Yudhishtra could react, Krishna’s chariot had vanished into the thick of battle, rushing headlong towards the Kaurava Commander. Yudhishtra waited with a heavy heart for it to return, with Shalya in chase. The lance felt heavy in his hand.

Soon, an uproar was heard and dust rose to cloud the sun. Men and chariots came rushing towards Yudhishtra. Krishna’s chariot flew past him in a blur and he heard Krishna shout, “Now!” Yudhishtra closed his eyes and threw his lance with full force at the chariot chasing Krishna and Arjuna. He opened his eyes when he heard the shouts of jubilation around him.
‘Maharaja Yudhishtra Vijaya!’
his soldiers were shouting.

In the chariot that had toppled over, Shalya lay dead, a lance through his heart. His accusing gaze pierced Yudhishtra’s heart, sharper than the lance he had hurled at his uncle. Yudhishtra collapsed in his chariot, his hands shivering. He had killed his uncle, that too, by attacking from the rear. He had thrown his lance at the back of the Kaurava Commander...like a coward... a man with no honour. It was amoral, adharmic... Suddenly he remembered the Nishada woman and her five children in

Varanavata. His mother had told him they had to do it to save themselves. Now he was a man in his prime and life had taught him that nothing good could come from violence. But he felt as helpless as a twig caught in a flood. He could smell the blood on his hands, the blood of his kin, the blood of men he had once respected and loved.

“I will go and finish Dushasana and Duryodhana,” he heard Bhima say.

Victory was at hand, but it failed to cheer the son of
dharma.

*****

73
   
T
HE
L
AKE

HE HAD FAILED THEM ALL.
He was a despicable creature. He had kept hope alive till Shalya fell. Now there was nothing left. Suyodhana’s teeth chattered as he lay submerged in the icy Samanthapanchaka lake. It was bone-chilling cold but nothing could soothe the burning inside him. He had stayed in the lake the whole night, trying to shake off the smiling image of Karna. Kumara’s innocent face haunted him. No, he could not give up. This was a strategic retreat. He needed time to think. He had to live somehow to fight another day. If he dug deep into himself, surely he would find the courage? The Pandavas had broken every rule of war, yet they had won. No, the war was not over yet, and never would be, until
dharma
was restored. It would continue with or without him.

Who was that? Suyodhana heard a twig snap. Had they found him? His mace lay half-buried on the slushy shore. He was not sure he even had the strength to lift it, let alone fight with it.

“Get out of there, you fool! They will find and kill you.”

Acharya Kripa! Suyodhana lifted his head from the water. Two figures stood behind Kripa. One was the Yadava Commander, Kritavarma, and the other was...