RAMAYANA SERIES Part 4_KING OF DHARMA (68 page)

“Kill them all,” Aarohan ordered his men. “I don’t care if they will die anyway. Kill them all to drive home the point. The danda for desertion is death.”

As his men went about the grisly task of cutting the throats of the dying and fatally poisoned men lying by the stream, Aarohan summoned his closest and most trusted cronies to him. They came, their sly faces grinning in anticipation. “Now, listen carefully, this is the day for which we’ve been waiting. We roll our bone dice right and we will all live out our lives as rich lords of Ayodhya, doing as we please to the end of our days.”

“We’ll do what has to be done,” said one of his aides confidently. “That band of ragtag outlaws and children won’t survive long.”

“Even so,” Aarohan said, “they know this forest well and may have more tricks at hand like the ploy with the snakes. We’ll use the main army to beat down the woods. Let them do the dog work and die like dogs if need be. Meanwhile, I want us to split up into two groups and ride around. We have to find the woman named Vedavati, the one who survived the fight at the ashram.”

One of his men spat bitterly on the ground. “That one? She was lucky to have escaped us there. She killed half a dozen good men. One of them was my brother. I want a chance at her.” He patted his thigh. “When I finish with her, she’ll be begging for the edge of my blade.”

Aarohan nodded. “You do that. You do whatever you want to her that pleases you. But I want her and her companion, the other bigger-built woman, dead before the sun sets today. Do you understand? I will give a hundred gold coin to any man who fetches me the head of the woman named Vedavati.”

“What about her brats, the twins with the bows.”

Aarohan turned his head to seek out the man who had spoken. “A hundred gold coin for each of their heads then. And fifty for the woman companion, the big one.”

The men looked at each other with pleased grins plastered on their faces. “Easy money, boys.”

“Maybe not so easy,” muttered one of the men. “I saw those boys use their bows. They ain’t no brahmacharya novices.”

“Get the mother, you get the boys,” said Aarohan harshly. He looked directly at the man who had complained. “Use her as a hostage or as you please if that works. The boys will do anything to save her. Anything.”

The men nodded, liking the sound of this now. “That’s three hundred gold coins for the mother and sons then,” said another man. “Right, captain?”

Aarohan nodded. “And fifty for the woman companion.” 

His aide grinned slyly. “Sounds like you don’t want them saying the wrong things to the right people.”

Aarohan nodded. “I don’t want them saying anything ever again. See to it,” he barked. 

“Yes, sir, yes captain!” replied his men smartly. 

They split into two groups and rode in separate directions.

Across the stream, Bejoo watched them go, then turned and melted back into the forest. 

THREE

Lakshman emerged from the royal pavilion, face tight with anger. Bharat and Shatrugan watched as he strode to and fro several times, trying to work off his fury, then went over to a horse trough that had just been filled with fresh water for the emperor’s own horse and emptied a pailful of water over his own head. He shook his face free of the excess waters, spitting out a mouthful angrily. His brothers waited for him to cool sufficiently to speak. 

“He will not listen to reason,” he told them. “He says he has heard the testimony of the witnesses and seen the evidence and has delivered his judgement.” 

Bharata and Shatrugan exchanged a glance. “But we were there! We can bear witness to what happened. What about our testimony?”

Lakshman dipped another pail and drank deeply from it. Nearby, the tethered horse whinnied in protest. “He will not hear or see anyone else. He is in consultation with the War Council.” Lakshman clenched his fist around the handle of the pail. “Jabali is by his side, filling his ear with venom. I heard them talking of war with Videha when I entered.”

Shatrugan sat on the edge of the trough, not caring that the water was sloshing over the edge. “This is bad, bhraatr. We have to do something. We must stop this madness.”

Lakshman took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. “I can do nothing further.”

Bharat took hold of Lakshman’s bicep. “You can’t just walk away! That was Sita-bhabhi and her sons we saw. Our nephews. Did you tell Rama that much at least?”

Lakshman took hold of Bharat’s forearm and dislodged his brother’s hand from his bicep. “I tried everything. But he is on a road without any chance of slowing or turning back. There is only one way to go from here: forward.” 

“And forward means war with our own allies? This is madness,” Shatrugan said. 

“This is Rama, Emperor of Kosala,” Lakshman said bitterly. “And these are the limits to my influence over him. If I try to circumvent his authority, I will be in defiance of the throne as you two are.”

“There must be something we can do to stop this. I know that lout Aarohan and his thugs are upto something.”

“If they are, then it is with the full knowledge and oversight of Pradhan Mantri Jabali himself,” Lakshman said morosely. “He personally vouched for the King’s Guard. They function under his command, did you know that? Even the King himself does not have command of his own Guard!” 

“Let me speak to Kausalya-Maa,” Bharat said. “She talked some sense into Rama’s head earlier. Maybe he will listen to her again.” He started to leave.

Lakshman caught his brother’s arm, stopping him. “There is no use. He will see no one now that the War Council is in session. Besides, to back down now would be to lose face before Jabali and the War Council. It would be a tactical error to call on his mother each time he needs correction.”

“Then what do you propose we do?” Shatrugan asked. “Stand by and watch this juggernaut,” he gestured towards the enormous army camp sprawled along the banks of the Sarayu for yojanas downriver, “roll on and crush our own relatives and friends across the land? Plunge the entire civilized world into the madness of a war without reason, without purpose?”

Lakshman stood up. “There may be a way to get Rama to listen. Someone he cannot dismiss as easily as his brothers or his mother.” 

“Who?” Bharat asked curiously. 

Lakshman looked at each of them in turn. “His sons.”

They were silent for a moment. Then Bharat and Shatrugan both smiled. Shatrugan slapped Lakshman’s shoulder. “Now this is the Lakshman I grew up with,” he said, grinning widely. 

Lakshman shrugged. “It took me a while but I finally realized I can’t just go on this way. Things are going out of hand in Ayodhya. This madness has to stop.”

“Very well, then, bhraatr, we are with you. What shall we do?”

Lakshman gestured to where their horses stood waiting and ready. “You two ride back into the forest and try to find the sons of Sita before Aarohan and his men do. If our suspicions are right, that villain will be trying his best to track them and kill them. Make sure you keep them alive. Officially though, you will both be on a personal mission on my direct orders, your goal being to find the Ashwamedha stallion.”

Bharat nodded. “We understand. What will you do in the meanwhile?”

Lakshman turned and glared in the direction of the royal pavilion. “I’ll wait here for an opportunity to get Rama alone without Jabali or the other ear-poisoners. When you find the twins, bring Sita-bhabhi and them here.”

“And then what happens?” Shatrugan asked, mounting his horse. Bharat did the same beside him. 

“Then we shall have a family reunion,” Lakshman said. 

He slapped the rumps of their horses, sending them lurching forward and on their way. 

***

Captain Aarohan studied the valley one last time before turning to his aides. “This time we have them. This valley is a death trap. There are only two ways out. North, back to the raj-marg, the Sarayu river and then Mithila. The Imperial Army is already on that route. All we have to do is move one akshohini ahead of the main procession and position it so that anyone exiting the forest on that road is instantly captured.”

“But the army is supposed to follow the trail of the Ashwameda stallion, not range ahead at will,” said one of his aides. 

Aarohan made a sound of impatience. “Yes. And once the stallion is captured, the army does what it must to recapture it.”

“Ah. Of course.”

Aarohan shook his head despairingly. “Leave the military strategy to me. Just follow orders. Now, as I was saying, there are only two ways out of this valley. The other way is East by South-East. If they go that way, we have them. In fact, it would be best if we force them in that direction.”

His aide frowned but hesitated before asking the question. 

Aarohan cursed. “Because it leads to a series of ravines and gullies and finally ends in a box canyon.” He looked around to make sure they all understood. “A dead end. Once we chase them in there, they will be like rats in a trap. We have only to poke them through the bars until they are dead.”

The aides nodded. 

“I am so happy we are all in agreement,’ Aarohan said sarcastically. “Make sure the akshohini on the raj-marg covering that patch of forest is prominently visible. The outlaws will most likely attempt to exit using the old grama-train route that snakes through the jungle and rejoins the raj-marg at the Ahilya Bai junction, some miles outside of Mithila.”

The aides exchanged a glance. One spoke cautiously: “That will put the army on Mithila land. Well into Videha territory.”

Aarohan nodded. “That’s the idea. We operate on the premise that the old minister Sumantra was murdered by Mithilan brigands who then stole the sacred stallion and absconded with him into the jungle. We have every right under Arya law to rove wherever necessary to recover the stallion.”

“And every acre of land we cover while doing so becomes annexed to Kosala?” said another aide, tentatively adding a questioning note to the statement. “So we incidentally expand Ayodhya’s dominion in the course of this outlaw hunt! That’s sharp.”

“Not as sharp as the point of my blade if we fail at this mission,” said Aarohan shortly. He half-drew his sword, keeping his hand on the hilt to let them know he was done chatting and that this was serious business now. “We all know the upside of success on this job. The downside is not something that bears thinking about so I suggest you don’t dwell on it. Do as I order. Get these outlaws. And we all go home rich and set for life.”

They all nodded tersely, none of them grinning or saying an unnecessary word. 

Aarohan looked at each one of them in turn to make sure his message had struck home. When he was satisfied he had made his point as effectively as possible, he slid the sword back into the hilt and leaned forward on his saddle. He pointed down into the valley, jabbing his finger as he pointed and instructed:

“This is how we round them up and herd them,” he said, “just like running cattle except that this time we don’t have to worry about being chased by the cattle owners.” He grinned brightly, light eyes twinkling in his fair face. “We’ll be doing all the chasing.”

***

Bejoo started as a lithe figure leaped down from the tree branch to land beside him. “Boy,” he said softly, “you gave me a start.” He glanced up at the tree. “I checked that tree just before I stopped here.” He didn’t add ‘in case there might be snakes hanging from the branches’. The fact was he could still hear the screams of those bitten soldiers and see their bloodless faces as they gasped and choked out their last breaths by the stream. He thought he would see them in his nightmares forever—or at least as long as he lived. 

Luv grinned up at him, squatting. “I wasn’t there when you stopped here. I waited till you settled before coming over. I used the vanar highway.”

Bejoo frowned. “The vanar highway…” An image flashed in his mind, of Hanuman loping through the trees along the Sarayu near Ayodhya, a sight that had never failed to draw excited cries and pointed fingers particularly among the children of the city back in the months following Rama’s return. Another age, another Ayodhya. The vanar could race along the treeline faster than the faster horse in the kingdom. Bejoo doubted if these boys could travel as fast through the trees, lacking Hanuman’s particular bodily appendages, but he guessed they must be fast enough to have dropped in on him so suddenly. He had only stopped here a moment ago. “I understand,” he said, smiling. “You are resourceful little fellows, younguns. I knew you were someone special the minute I laid eyes on you on that grama marg the other day.”

Luv shrugged with some embarrassment. “Sorry we held you up that day. You did get back the wagon with all its contents, didn’t you?”

“Oh yes, Nakhudi returned it safe and sound, thank you very much.” Bejoo reflected briefly that had they not stolen the wagon and Nakhudi not returned it, he would never have gotten involved in this in the first place. “Actually, I’m very happy you robbed our grama-train that day.”

Luv crinkled his nose. It was somewhat snubbed, resembling his mother’s slightly snubbed nose as well. “You are?” He looked puzzled. 

Bejoo patted him on the back affectionately, careful not to touch the oversized rig bristling with arrows. “It was the best thing that happened to me in the last ten years.”