KRISHNA CORIOLIS#6: Fortress of Dwarka (30 page)

Yes. You should have. But it’s all right. We’re here now. The Magadhans have encircled the entire town and the surrounding villages. I think it’s a burn-and-rule plan.
 

Krishna nodded to himself.
That fit with what they knew of Jarasandha. Regardless of what happens today, he means to raze Kundina to the ground and take Vidarbha for himself. Because Bhishmaka and his line are not strong enough for Magadha to bother allying with. He intends to make vassals of the entire kingdom.
 

You’re the military genius, bhraatr. Me, I just fight good. Which, by the way, I am now about to do. Permission to proceed, Dwarkadisha?
 

Krishna nodded once, grimly, letting his teeth show. “Wipe them clean.”
 

14

JARASANDA
seethed with rage. A courier had just brought word that the Yadava army had appeared and was engaging his army even now at this moment. Balarama was there and he was wreaking havoc in his ranks as usual.
 

He was enraged because the losses he suffered now were irreparable: he could not go through a Vortal and re-engage the brothers once again if today’s outcome did not suit his purpose. If Balarama wiped out his army as he had before in the siege of Mathura, then that would be the end of Magadha and its forces.
 

But the next instant he came within sight of Krishna and his mood changed. The Lord of Dwarka stood alone on an open plain, flanked by the armies of the suitors still emerging from the Dandaka-van, and the suitor kings and chiefs themselves, alongwith their champions and elite forces, Kundina behind them.
 

It was obvious that Krishna meant to stand and fight rather than run. That was why Balarama was here too, with the Yadava army. So be it. This was a situation Jarasandha knew how to handle. Waging war was what he did. It was dealing with gods who flew away and hid on mountains that were vexing in the extreme.
 

Jarasandha rode his chariot around to the front of the advancing column of suitors, all staring angrily at the lone Yadava ahead. He turned the vehicle around to face them, holding up his palm to indicate to them to halt. They did so.
 

“Rukmi,” he called out loud enough for all to hear, even though Rukmi had been riding beside him all this while, “There stands Krishna, Slayer of Kamsa, murderer of his own uncle, Usurper of the throne of Mathura, fleer from battles, craven who hides rather than fights. I have named him Ranchodri Gupta! Ranchodri for his penchant for running away from battle rather than standing and fighting. Gupta because he hides rather than shows himself to the enemy. Today we have him cornered between our pursuing forces and the armies of your allies and friends. Here is your only opportunity to face him and fight him fairly. Go! Attack him with all your might. Cut him down where he stands and regain your stolen pride and honor!”

Rukmi rode out to him, reigning in and speaking softly so only Jarasandha would hear. “I have heard tales of this Yadava. Some say he is a god in human guise. Others say he is possessed of superhuman strength and skills and slays asuras as if they were children. Why do you not lead us in the attack and challenge him yourself, Jara? You are by far the strongest here, both individually as well as in military strength.”

Jarasandha gave him his response by shouting it out loud to the entire gathering. “Brave words, Rukmi! You speak truly. I offer to lead the attack and avenge your sister’s theft but she was after all your sister and it was your family’s honor that was sullied. Therefore your wisdom and courage are well directed: it is only fitting that you and your brothers should lead the attack. I know your father will back you up, despite his ailing health. Go then, brave Rukmi. Lead us in a charge of such noble rage that all Vidarbha shall remember your actions here today. No matter what happens, let the world south of Dandaka-van always know the bravery of Prince Rukmi in defending his family’s honor and his sister’s desecration.”
 

And with those words, Jarasandha turned his chariot away before Rukmi could say another sentence and resumed his position in the line. Rukmi stayed where he was on horseback, glancing at the stormy faces of the other kings and suitors. He could refuse now or he would be seen as a coward or worse in their eyes. Nobody would ever respect him again. Yet, he was not that much a dullar, nor that badly addled by Jarasandha’s potions--artfully slipped into his drink and food over the past several weeks by spasas loyal to Magadha--to know that Krishna was no ordinary foe.
 

In the end, Rukmi showed his true mettle. He sucked in a full lungful of air, looking to his brothers. They came forward on his call, looking as uncertain as he did. Jarasandha saw their eyes flick to the lone figure on the mound on the plain and then back to their eldest brother. He spoke briefly with them, and from his tone and decisive manner, Jarasandha knew that he was telling them why they must do this and how they must do it, and there was no way out. They were all brave enough young men in their own foolish Vidarbha way, Jarasandha knew, and agreed without further ado.
 

Then Rukmi turned his horse around and his five brothers and he all drew their swords and raised them high, as Rukmi gave the order to charge. And with that order, every king, chief, and yodha worth naming in the Vidarbha and neighboring region, attacked Krishna in a do-or-die assault. At the same time, their armies massed on Krishna’s far side, charged forward as well, both forces converging in an angular trajectory on the lone Yadava.
 

Jarasandha chuckled even as he waited for the last of the suitors to follow Rukmi in the charge. Then, with nobody watching him, he wheeled his chariot away and sped away as quickly as he could flee. He had no intention of staying to fight Krishna. His only intention was to go save what was left of his army and escape from this war as quickly as possible. He had done his part for now, the rest of the plan did not require his presence to unfold.
 

The fact that he was doing exactly what he had accused Krishna of doing in the face of battle: escaping and hiding. Ranchodri Gupta!
 

So be it.
 

After all, there was no shame in learning from the best!

***

Krishna saw the five riders at the forefront and knew that once again Jarasandha had played a shrewd hand. By sending Rukmini’s brothers against him first, Jarasandha had put Krishna in a difficult position. Now, if he defended himself by retaliating, he risked maiming or killing one his own brothers-in-law. Even if he did not care how that might worsen his reputation among the enemy--“First he killed his uncle, then he killed his own wife’s brothers, after he kidnapped her from her own swayamvara!”--he had to care for his oath to Rukmini. The fact that she was watching this entire battle from the pushpak hovering above did not help.
 

Bhraatr, I am having a fine time,
Balarama bellowed, sending him a quick mind-image of himself wielding his great divine Gada, slaughtering hundreds at a blow. The air around Balarama was filled with spattered gore and flying body parts, the ground littered for miles in every direction as the Reaper of Dwarka literally ran through the Magadhan lines, harvesting a bloody crop.
 

I am happy for you, bhai. I wish my task were as simple and I could just flail about too.
Krishna watched morosely as the cavalry of the advancing armies broke into a full gallop now, riding down on him like a tidal wave on a beached seal. He sent back a quick mind-image to Balarama as well.

That looks like a good fight to me,
Balarama sent back.
What’s the problem?
 

This
is my problem,
Krishna replied and sent a mind-image of the other force bearing down on him, also now in a full-on galloping charge, led by Rukmi and his four brothers.

Oh that,
Balarama replied, but said no more, sizing up the dilemma in a jiffy. Krishna sensed his brother continue his rampage but with somewhat reduced glee.
 

It’s all right,
Krishna said reassuringly but glumly,
I think I have an idea--let’s hope it works.
 

And then both forces were upon him and the battle was joined.
 

15

Rukmini
cried out as she watched her beloved pinned between the two apposite forces. The army that came from the Dandaka-van seemed to literally ride over Krishna, rendering the lone figure invisible for several moments as the charge led them past his position and hundreds of yards beyond before turning back and circling around him. At the same time, the force led by her brothers wheeled away at the last moment to avoid clashing with their own armies, riding around and waiting until the first wave had passed. The instant the army had ridden over and past Krishna, they began attacking him mercilessly even as they circled around in the opposite direction to trap Krishna in a circular maze of hostility.
 

Arrows rained at Krishna in such vast numbers that Rukmini could barely see her beloved. It was like trying to see a puddle in a great rainstorm. She could not believe that anyone could withstand such a storm of arrows, yet Krishna remained standing, remained alive. She could see him riddled through with arrows, his body pierced by an untold number of missiles and could barely bear to watch.
 

The Vidarbhans favored iron arrows, for their hills were filled with rich mineral veins and mining was a major activity. Wooden arrows, one could simply pull loose, but these iron missiles were immeasurably more painful to be struck by, and exquisitely painful to pull out. Even though she knew Krishna could survive even a hail of wounds and injuries, it did not absolve him of feeling mortal pain. She not begin to understand how he could endure such punishment. And she knew he was doing it for her sake: to avoid harming her brothers.
 

But this was too much. Surely, he could not endure this much torture and still repair that mortal body?
 

“Take me down,” she told the sarathi, who was also watching the battle with a curious mixture of horror and empathy on his round face. “I wish to speak with my Lord.”
 

“Forgive me, my Lady,” he replied, joining his palms in respect. “My Lord’s instructions were clear. I was not to bring you any closer to the fray.”

She slammed her fist onto the rim of the chariot. If only she was not fettered by this human body. If only she could do as Krishna could do in this lifetime: use her mortal form like a horse ridden by a divine rider. But she could not. And so she must watch and trust her beloved to deal with the dilemma.
 

But when the second wave struck, even she could not bear to watch it all over again. She turned her face away and slumped to the floor of the chariot well, sitting and staring down at the golden pattern of the chariot’s floor. She noted that the pattern was a moving one that kept changing, never showing the same design twice. But in her mind all she could see was her beautiful beloved’s body riddle through with the iron arrows of her kinsfolk.
 

How can you endure so much pain for me?
her mind cried out to him, speaking the words her heart felt but could not voice.

Because you are worth enduring all the pain in the world, my love,
he replied.
 

***

The kings and chiefs of Vidarbha as well as their yoddhas, their most elite fighters and their armies, all paused to gaze in awe at their solitary enemy.
 

Krishna stood on the battlefield, a figure so riddled by black iron arrows that he appeared to be only a target for them, not a mortal man anymore.
 

How could one man endure so many and still stand? they wondered. Their assaults had broken off as they stared at this marvel of nature. How could any warrior not succumb to so many wounds?
 

And even if he was immortal and could not be killed by mortal weapons, he must surely feel the pain of those wounds, must he not? How could he endure such epic pain without once crying out or showing the pain in some way?
 

Even above the thicket of arrows that bristled from his dark body, his face was still clearly visible, barely a dozen arrows sticking from his ears and cheeks and the fleshy underpart of his chin. Enough to see that he was not crying or moaning with agony.
 

It was impossible. But yet there he was, right before their eyes.
 

The forces of Vidarbha paused to show their respect for a fellow warrior with such epic endurance and courage as none of them had seen before.
 

Even Rukmi and his brothers exchanged startled glances and marvelled at the sight, while they wondered secretly why Krishna did not fight back.
 

Surely a warrior who could take a thousand arrows and still stand could fight back just as prodigiously? Then why did he not attempt to at least defend himself, leave alone raise a weapon against them?
 

Thus far, he had not lifted a finger in aggression. Nor had he begged them to spare him. He had simply stood there on that grassy mound and endured all.
 

It made no sense.
 

Then, even as they were debating aloud what to do next, Krishna moved.
 

***

Daruka cried out to her. “My Lady!”
 

She looked up at him and saw him gazing down at the ground below, his expression completely changed. She leaped up to her feet--she was still barefoot, her feet still caked with the mud from the temple grounds and the swayamvara field--and looked over the rim of the well of the chariot.