RAMAYANA SERIES Part 4_KING OF DHARMA (64 page)

The man had a distinctive way of wearing his beard, shaving away the sides to bare his cheeks, leaving a bristly chin. That suggested vanity. Which went with the naked arrogance he displayed. 

The man spoke in loud commanding tones, clearly delivering a carefully rehearsed speech: “YOU THERE! You have violated the sanctity of the Ashwamedha ritual and challenged the supremacy of Samrat Rama Chandra of Ayodhya! The penalty is instant execution. Surrender yourself to our mercy or die now!”

There was an instant of shocked silence. Into this brief pause, Bejoo heard Luv’s voice—or perhaps it was Kush’s voice, he could not tell the two apart—say in his boyish way but with a cold steely edge that was far more mature than most ten year olds, “Those are the men who attacked our home this morning.”

And he heard the other boy reply just as grimly: “Yes, they are.”

THIRTEEN

Bharat clenched his fist around his reins angrily as he took in the scene ahead. So this was the drama that was being played out. 

He saw two women and two boys and the sacred stallion. The boys were beside the stallion which seemed to desire their company. The horse displayed no signs of restlessness or nervousness that it would have, had the boys captivated it against its will. Bharat distinctly saw the horse nudge one of the boys in the sholder, demanding his attention, a gesture Bharat himself knew well from his own life-long experience with horses. There was no capture here nor any challenge that he could see. Not by the Ashwamedha’s interpretation of the terms. It was obvious that the gang of horse riders had deliberately coerced the horse to ride in this direction, somehow knowing that these forest dwellers would come across it sooner or later, with the express intention of blaming them. 

Then he saw who the boys and the women were and his mouth opened in surprise. It helped that one of the women, the one clad in the red-ochre garb of a sadhini, looked up at him as he approached, and her face flickered with the unmistakable glimmer of recognition too. The hefty woman looming beside her glared up protectively as well and her face changed as well, showing that she recognized him as well as Lakshman and Shatrugan beside him. 

Even after a decade, there was no mistaking his sister-in-law. That was Sita Bhabhi, he was quite certain. 

Her old bodyguard he recognized from her unique physical appearance and the fact that she was with Sita Bhabhi. Which meant that the two boys standing by the horse could only be…his nephews! His throat leaped in his throat as he swallowed with difficulty. Yes, it was definitely Sita, there was no mistaking her. And that meant the boys were her sons. 

“Surrender or die, jungle vermin,” said the man with the trimmed beard arrogantly. “Those are the only two choices before you. This is the last chance I offer you before I decide that you are not worth capturing at all.”

One of the boys shook his head and drew an arrow from the quiver over his shoulder with a fluid action that impressed Bharat. 

Now there’s a boy who knows how to handle a bow,
he thought.
Reminds me of a bhraatr who was as efficient with a bow and arrows at less than this boy’s age. 

The bearded man swore harshly at the boy. 

Bharat recognized him as well. He was the same craven who had stuck Sumantra from behind with a pike. Neither he nor his horse men paid heed to Bharat, Shatrugan and Lakshman as they approached on their left flank, but the stilted way he was speaking and acting suggested what Bharat had already suspected, that the man and his companions were only playing elaborate roles in some scripted scenario. Evidently, the scenario involved Sita and her sons as well, which was something Bharat had never expected nor dreamed of. He had never even associated his banished sister-in-law and her boys with anything that had occurred until now. But the fact that they were apparently being ‘staged’ as the alleged challengers of Rama’s authority and stealers of the sacred horse suggested that this drama’s playscript was far more elaborate than he had expected. It could hardly be a coincidence that of all the people in the world, Rama’s sacred sacrificial horse would be allegedly captured by none other than his own two sons! Something here smelled rotten as a musk melon cut open and left out for a week. 

Bharat waited to see what the response was to the gang leader’s last call. 

“What say you, Kush,” said one of the boys, keeping the arrow notched and ready but still pointed at the ground. “Shall we surrender to the authority of a king who has never done anything for us, not even protect us as is his dharma by law, or shall we let his murdering soldiers kill us just as they slaughtered the innocent rishis and brahmins of Valmiki Ashram, including the brahmacharya acolytes, man of whom were younger than us?” The words were delivered calmly but with a rich accent of irony. 

The other boy feigned a shrug, keeping his bow strung and the arrow notched but pointing downwards. “I don’t know, Luv. It’s such a difficult choice to make. Hmmm. What do you recommend?”

“Enough banter,” said the ruffian who had murdered Sumantra, evidently losing patience. “Step aside and let us reclaim the horse, and we may yet let you live long enough to be taken before Samrat Rama for pronouncement of judgement. This is your final warning!”

The boys exchanged a glance. Bharat sensed something pass between them and recognized it as being similar to the instinctive telepathy that developed between comrades at arms over long periods of time and intense threat. Except that these two boys possess the ability to communicate without words naturally, they were probably born with it. He glanced sideways at Shatrugan and Lakshman, and sensed that they understood this as well. After all, they were not just identical twin brothers like Sita Bhabhi’s sons, they were also blood relatives to those two young boys. 

Luv raised his chin to stare insolently back at the horseman. “If your Emperor Rama wants his horse back, tell him to come get it. As for you, you craven wretch, you must pay for what you did to Valmiki Ashram and the innocents you massacred!”

And without further ado, he raised his bow and released the arrow. 

And then all hell broke loose.

 ***

Luv’s arrow was dead on target. But his words and actions had forewarned the leader of the king’s guard sufficiently. When Luv released, Aarohan raised his sword up quickly, deflecting the arrow. At the same time, he shouted a command to his men to attack. The entire company charged at once. 

Kush released his arrow a fraction after Luv, also aiming at Aarohan. But because they had both aimed at the same spot—the gap between the horse rider’s chest armourplate and helm which left the man’s neck and throat exposed, his arrow was deflected by the same sword action. The charging horses, only a dozen yards from where the boys stood, left them no time for a second shot. In perfect coordination, both brothers leaped on the back of the black stallion and clapped their heels to its flanks. 

“Go! Ride!” Maatr shouted at them, seeing the danger. 

Nakhudi added her voice to the furore: “GO!”

The sacred horse needed no further urging. He shot forward like a bolt, whinnying with excitement. The other equines pounding after him excited him greatly, after having been alone for several days. He screamed his excitement as he charged through the forest at a pace few horses could have matched. The king’s guard’s horses, burdened as they were with over-muscled men each weighing more than Luv and Kuch combined, as well as their armour and heavy weapons, and tired from being ridden hard the past few days, couldn’t even hope to catch up. Luv and Kush disappeared into the shadows of Southwoods in a moment, the rump of the black horse invisible dim gloam of the dense woods. There would be no catching them by speed alone. 

But Aarohan wasn’t accepting the fact. He shouted to his men to go after the stallion and they rode after it, following in his wake. 

They did not go far. 

Bejoo and his PFs rose and stepped out from the hiding places, aiming bows and throwing blades at the oncoming king’s guards. 

Sita and Nakhudi raised their weapons as well. 

And from the left flank, Bharat, Shatrugan and Lakshman rode forward and came around to face Aarohan. Bharat’s horse lurched ahead, but Lakshman reached out, took hold of the bit and gave Bharat a firm stare. Bharat looked into his brother’s eyes, nodded once, and stopped his horse, allowing Lakshman to go forward to speak face to face with the king’s guard captain. 

“Captain Aarohan,” Lakshman said. “That is your name and title, is it not?”

The man glared down at him. The menace in his eyes was venomous. “Get out of my way. You are obstructing the emperor’s personal guard.”

Lakshman looked at him coldly. “I am the emperor’s brother. I am also the Protector of the sacred horse.”

“A fine job you’re doing then, letting it be stolen by vagabond children!” The man spat to one side.  

“Those boys did not intend to steal the horse. They were provoked by you and your men. I witnessed the incident myself.”

This time Aarohan hawked and spat in Lakshman’s direction, aiming the produce of his mouth at the foot of Lakshman’s horse. The mare snickered softly but held her ground, too well trained to respond to such an obvious taunt. “It is a well-planned ambush. Look around you. These are traitors, men dismissed from service of Ayodhya, now turned against their own motherland. This whole scheme to steal the horse and shame the Suryavansha throne is a plot against the emperor. If you were a true loyal son of Ayodhya, you would see the truth for yourself!”

“I am one of the heirs to the Suryavansha throne,” Lakshman replied. “I do not need to be reminded of my loyalty. Nor do I need to be fed the truth by the likes of you, Captain Aarohan. My bhraatrin Bharat and Shatrugan say they witnessed you murdering the former pradhan mantri Sumantra a short while ago. How do you respond to that charge?”

The light blue eyes glittered like diamonds in the shadows of his helmet. Aarohan made a sound of arrogance. “I spit on their claims. They are dishonoured and penalized for transgressions against the throne. Their loyalty is also questionable. I would not be surprised if they too were part of the plot in which Sumantra was involved.”

Lakshman stared at him in disbelief. This fellow was truly testing his patience now. “You claim that Sumantra was involved in this? Sumantra!”

Aarohan looked at him pointedly. “Perhaps you were involved as well, Yuvaraj Lakshman. Why else would you be obstructing Samrat Rama Chandra’s personal guard from fulfilling our dharma.”

“That’s enough of this claptrap!” Bharat said, urging his horse forward. “I won’t stand here and listen to this arrogant ass spout every vile thought that comes into his stinking mouth!”

Lakshman knew how Bharat felt. He looked at Aarohan. The man was clearly in no mood to talk sense. But he also knew how quickly Bharat’s anger reached flashpoint and could go out of control. Under these circumstances, it might not be wise to let his brother unleash his temper. 

“Just a moment, bhraatr,” he said aside to Bharat. “I am still trying to clear this up.”

Bharat pursed his lips and kept his silence, but Lakshman could see that it took all of his self-control to do so. He continued to glare at Aarohan who in turn glared back. If not for the number of men as well as the three of them blocking their way, the king’s guard would not have stood still a moment longer. As it was, they seemed ready to fight even Lakshman and his brothers if need be. Bharat was astute enough to recognize this and to agree to be patient a while longer. 

Lakshman turned his attention to the two women. Again, looking at his sister-in-law’s long-familiar face brought back feelings that had lain beneath the surface for too long. But he also knew that to acknowledge her for who she really was might well complicate the situation further. Aarohan would not care that she was his precious emperor’s banished wife; if anything, he might consider that a reason to abuse her or attack her instead. Also, the way Nakhudi was glaring at the horsemen and hefting her sword, he could see that a fight was only a single insult distant at this point. 

“Sister,” he said, choosing a noncommittal greeting. “Were those your sons who rode away with the sacred horse?”

Sita’s eyes gazed up at him calmly, and he saw that she understood his choosing to err on the side of discretion. “Yes.”

“And did they lure the horse in this neck of the woods with the intention of capturing it and challenging the emperor?”

Her mouth twitched in something that might have been humour, althought it could as easily have been a bitter smile. “Emperor?”

Aarohan started to say something in his arrogant insulting way, but Lakshman raised a clenched fist in warning, telling him to shut up. The man shut up, though he didn’t like it, and Lakshman knew that even his own cache as Rama’s brother would only buy him a little more time and patience—very little. 

“The horse was sent on an Ashwamedha yagna on behalf of Samrat Rama Chandra’s claim as emperor of the Kosala nation and its allies. You know the law. Anyone who stops the horse or seizes it, challenges the authority of the owner and as such—”

“As such, is liable to be put to death on the spot,” Sita said with a trace of bitterness. “Yes, I am aware of the law. But my sons did not lure, capture or steal that horse. They have no interest in challenging the authority of your emperor. They were merely trying to get away from that man and his gang of murderers,” she stabbed a finger at Aarohan and the rest of the king’s guard behind him, “who, by the way, were sent by your precious emperor this morning to find and massacre all peaceable people dwelling in these woods, including but not limited to the brahmins, rishis, sadhus, sadhinis of Valmiki Ashram as well!”

Lakshman stared at her, astonished. “What? These men?”

Nakhudi stepped forward, pointing with her sword. “Yes! These men! Either you are blind or you are also a part of this cowardly conspiracy! Don’t pretend you were not aware of their mission. They rode through this morning and wiped out an entire village of innocent unarmed people.” She was sobbing angrily, tears spilling freely down her face as she went on, “even the frail, elderly and the young! They did the same at Guru Valmiki’s Ashram. They slew every last brahmacharya, some as young as seven!”