Immortals of Meluha (43 page)
Drapaku looked up.
‘Raise your brigade, Drapaku,’ ordered Shiva. Turning towards Daksha, he continued, ‘We will call it the Vikarma Brigade.’
‘How can we have vikarmas in our army? This is ridiculous!’ glared Vidyunmali.
Vidyunmali and Mayashrenik were in their private gym, preparing for their regular sword training.
‘Vidyu...,’ cajoled Mayashrenik.
‘Don’t
“Vidyu”
me, Maya. You know this is wrong.’
The usually calm Mayashrenik just nodded and let his impetuous friend vent his frustration.
‘How will I face my ancestors if I die in this battle?’ asked Vidyunmali. ‘What will I answer if they ask me how I let a non-Kshatriya fight a battle that only we Kshatriyas should have fought? It is
our
duty to protect the weak. We are not supposed to use the weak to fight for us.’
‘Vidyu, I don’t think Drapaku is weak. Have you forgotten his valour in the previous Chandravanshi war?’
‘He is a vikarma! That makes him weak!’
‘Lord Shiva has ordered that there are no vikarmas anymore.’
‘I don’t think the Neelkanfh truly knows right from wrong!’
‘VIDYU!’ shouted Mayashrenik.
Vidyunmali was surprised by the outburst.
‘If the Neelkanth says it is right,’ continued Mayashrenik, ‘then it
is
right!’
CHAPTER 22
‘This is the military formation I think ideal for the battle,’ said Parvateshwar.
Vraka and Parvateshwar were sitting in the general’s private office. The formation was that of a bow. The soldiers would be arranged in a wide semi-circular pattern. The slower corps, like the tortoises, would be placed at the centre. The flanks would comprise quicker units such as the light infantry. The cavalry would be at both the ends of the bow, ready to be quickly deployed anywhere on the front or to ride along the sides of the bow for protection. The bow formation was ideal for a smaller army. It provided flexibility without sacrificing strength.
‘It is ideal, my Lord,’ said Vraka. ‘What does the Mahadev have to say?’
‘Shiva thinks it suits our requirements perfectly’
Vraka did not like it when Parvateshwar referred to the Neelkanth by his name. But who was he to correct his general? ‘I agree, my Lord.’
‘I will lead the left flank,’ said Parvateshwar. ‘And you will lead the right. That is why I need your opinion on some things.’
‘Me, my Lord?’ asked an astonished Vraka. ‘I thought the Mahadev would lead the other flank.’
‘Shiva? No, I don’t think he would be fighting this war, Vraka.’
Vraka looked up in surprise. But he remained silent.
Parvateshwar probably felt the need to explain, for he continued speaking. ‘He is a good and capable man, no doubt. But the uppermost desire in his mind is retribution, not justice for Meluha. We will help him wreak vengeance when we throw the guilty Naga at his feet. He won’t be putting his own life at risk in a war just to find one Naga.’
Vraka kept his eyes low, lest they betray the fact that he disagreed with his chief.
‘To be fair,’ said Parvateshwar. ‘We can’t impose on him just because he has a blue throat. I respect him a lot. But I don’t expect him to fight. What reason would there be for him to do that?’
Vraka looked up for a brief instant at Parvateshwar’s eyes. Why was his general refusing to accept what was so obvious to everyone? Was he so attached to Lord Ram that he couldn’t believe that another saviour had arrived on earth? Did he actually believe that Lord Ram could be the
only one?
Hadn’t Lord Ram himself said that he is replaceable, only dharma is irreplaceable?
‘Furthermore,’ continued Parvateshwar, ‘he is married now. He is obviously in love. He is not going to risk Sati being bereaved again. Why should he? It’s unfair of us to demand this of him.’
‘Vraka thought, not daring to voice his opinion.
The Mahadev will fight for all of us, General. He will battle to protect us. Why? Because that is what Mahadevs do.’
Vraka was not aware that Parvateshwar was hoping something similar in his mind. He too wished that Shiva would rise to be a Mahadev and lead them to victory against the Chandravanshis. However, Parvateshwar had learned through long years of experience that while many men tried to rise up to Lord Ram’s level, none had ever succeeded. Parvateshwar had laid hopes on a few such men in his youth. And he had always been disillusioned at the end. He was simply preparing himself for another such expected disappointment from Shiva. He didn’t plan to be left without a backup if Shiva refused to fight the battle against the Chandravanshis.
The war council sat silently as Daksha read the letter that had come back from Swadweep — from the court of Emperor Dilipa. Daksha’s reaction upon reading the letter left no doubt as to the message it contained. He shut his eyes, his face contorted in rage, his fist clenched tight. He handed the letter over to Kanakhala and sneered, ‘Read it. Read it out loud so that the whole world may be sickened by the repugnance of the Chandravanshis.’
Kanakhala frowned slightly before taking the letter and reading it out loud. ‘Emperor Daksha, Suryavanshi liege, protector of Meluha. Please accept my deep condolences for the dastardly attack on Mount Mandar. Such a senseless assault on peaceful Brahmins cannot but be condemned in the strongest of terms. We are shocked that any denizen of India would stoop to such levels. It is, therefore, with surprise and sadness that I read your letter. I assure you that neither me nor anyone in my command has anything to do with this devious attack. Hence I have to inform you, with regret, that there is nobody I can hand over to you. I hope that you understand the sincerity of this letter and will not make a hasty decision, which may have regrettable consequences for you. I assure you of my empire’s full support in the investigation of this outrage. Please do inform us of how we can be of assistance to you in bringing the criminals to justice.’
Kanakhala took a deep breath to compose herself. The anger over the typically Chandravanshi doubletalk was washing right through her, making her regret her earlier stand.
‘It’s personally signed by the Emperor Dilipa,’ said Kanakhala, completing her reading of the letter.
‘Not
Emperor
Dilipa,’ growled a fuming Daksha.
‘Terrorist
Dilipa of the Empire of Evil!’
‘War!’ arose a cry from the council, unanimous in its rage.
Daksha looked over at a scowling Shiva who nodded imperceptibly.
‘War it is!’ bellowed Daksha. ‘We march in two weeks!’
The bracelet seemed to develop a life of its own. It had swelled to enormous proportions, dwarfing Shiva. Its edges were engulfed in gigantic flames. The three colossal serpents, which formed the Aum, separated from each other and slithered towards Shiva. The one in the centre, while nodding to the snake on its left, hissed, ‘He got your brother. And the other one will soon get your wife.’
The serpents to the left and right scowled eerily.
Shiva pointed his finger menacingly at the serpent in the centre. ‘You dare touch even a hair on her and I will rip your soul out of...’
‘But I...’ continued the serpent, not even acknowledging Shiva’s threat. ‘I’m saving myself. I’m saving myself for you.’
Shiva stared at the serpent with impotent rage.
‘I will get you,’ said the serpent as its mouth opened wide, ready to swallow him whole.
Shiva’s eyes suddenly opened wide. He was sweating hard. He looked around, but couldn’t see a thing. It was extraordinarily dark. He reached out for Sati, to check if she was safe. She wasn’t there. He was up in a flash, feeling a chill in his heart, almost expecting that the serpents had escaped his dreams and transformed into reality.
‘Shiva,’ said Sati, looking at him.
She was sitting at the edge of the bed. The tiny military tent they slept in could not afford the luxury of chairs. This tent had been their travelling home for the last one month as the Meluhan army marched towards Swadweep.
‘What is it, Sati?’ asked Shiva, his eyes adjusting to the dim light. He slipped the offending bracelet that he held tightly in his hands, back into his pouch.
When had I taken it out?
‘Shiva,’ continued Sati. She had tried to talk about this for the last two weeks. Ever since she had been sure of the news, but had never found an opportune moment. She always managed to convince herself that this was minor news and it would not be right for her to trouble her husband with this, especially when he was going through one of the worst phases of his life. But it was too late now. He had to learn from her and not somebody else. News like this did not remain secret in an army camp for long. ‘I have something to tell you.’
‘Yes,’ said Shiva, though his dream still rankled. ‘What is it?’
‘I don’t think I will be able to fight in the war.’
‘What? Why?’ asked a startled Shiva. He knew that cowardice was a word that did not exist in Sati’s dictionary. Then why was she telling him so? And why now, when the army had already marched for nearly a month through the dense forests that separated Meluha from Swadweep? They were already in enemy territory. There was no turning back. ‘Sati, this is not like you.’
‘Umm, Shiva,’ said an embarrassed Sati. Such discussions were always difficult for the somewhat prudish Suryavanshis. ‘I have my reasons.’
‘Reasons?’ asked Shiva. ‘What...’
Suddenly the reason smacked Shiva like a silent thunderbolt.
‘My god! Are you sure?’
‘Yes,’ said Sati, bashfully.
‘By the Holy Lake! I am going to be a father?’
Seeing the ecstasy on Shiva’s face, Sati felt a pang of guilt that she hadn’t told him before.
‘Wow!’ whooped a thrilled Shiva as he swirled her in his arms. ‘This is the best news I have heard in a long time!’
Sati smiled warmly and rested her head on his tired but strong shoulders.
‘We will name our daughter after the one who has comforted you through the last two months, when I have been of no help,’ said Shiva. ‘We will name her Krittika!’
Sati looked up in surprise. She didn’t believe that it was possible to love him even more. But it was. She smiled. ‘It could be a son, you know’
