Scion of Ikshvaku (38 page)

‘We have to move quickly,’ said the leader.

His nose was flat, pressed against his face. His beard and facial hair surrounded the periphery of his face, encircling it with neat precision. Strangely though, the area above and below his mouth was silken smooth and hairless; it had a puffed appearance and was light pink in colour. His lips were a thin, barely noticeable line. Thick eyebrows drew a sharp curve above captivating eyes that radiated intelligence and a meditative calm; they also held a promise of brutal violence, if required. His furrowed brow gave him a naturally intellectual air. It almost seemed like the Almighty had taken the face of a monkey and placed it on a man’s head.

‘Yes, My Lord,’ said a Parihan. ‘If you could give us a few minutes more… The men have been marching continuously and some rest will…’

‘There is no time for rest!’ growled the leader. ‘I have given my word to Guru Vashishta! Raavan cannot be allowed to reach them before we do! We need to find them now! Tell the men to hurry!’

The Parihan rushed off to carry out the orders. Another Parihan, who had finished his meal, walked up to the Naga. ‘My Lord, the men need to know: Who is the primary person?’

The leader didn’t hesitate even for a second. ‘Both. They are both vital. Princess Sita is important to the Malayaputras, and Prince Ram is to us.’

‘Yes, Lord Hanuman.’

They had been on the run for thirty days. Racing east through the
Dandakaranya
, they had moved a reasonable distance parallel to the Godavari, so that they couldn’t be easily spotted or tracked. But they couldn’t afford to stray too far from the tributary rivers or other water bodies, for the best chance of hunting animals would be lost.

Ram and Lakshman had just hunted a deer and were making their way back to the temporary camp through the dense jungle. They carried a long staff between them, Ram in front, carrying one end on his shoulder, and Lakshman behind, balancing the other. The deer’s body dangled from the wooden pole.

Lakshman was arguing with Ram. ‘But why do you think it’s irrational to think Bharat
Dada
could…’

‘Shhh,’ said Ram, holding his hand up to silence Lakshman. ‘Listen.’

Lakshman strained his ears. A chill ran down his spine. Ram turned towards Lakshman with terror writ large on his face. They had both heard it.
A forceful scream!
It was Sita. The distance made faint her frantic struggle. But it was clearly Sita. She was calling out to her husband.

Ram and Lakshman dropped the deer and dashed forward desperately. They were still some distance away from their temporary camp.

Sita’s voice could be heard above the din of the disturbed birds.

‘… Raaam!’

They were close enough now to hear the sounds of battle as metal clashed with metal.

Ram screamed as he ran frantically through the forest. ‘Sitaaaa!’

Lakshman drew his sword, ready for battle.

‘… Raaaam!’

‘Leave her alone!’ shouted Ram, cutting through the dense foliage, racing ahead.

‘… Raaam!’

Ram gripped his bow tight. They were just a few minutes from their camp. ‘Sitaaa!’

‘… Raa…’

Sita’s voice stopped mid-syllable. Trying not to imagine the worst, Ram kept running, his heart pounding desperately, his mind clouded with worry.

They heard the loud whump, whump of rotor blades. It was Raavan’s legendary
Pushpak Vimaan
, his
flying vehicle
.

‘Nooo!’ screamed Ram, wrenching his bow forward as he ran. Tears were streaming down his face.

The brothers broke through to the clearing that was their temporary camp. It stood completely destroyed. There was blood everywhere.

‘Sitaaa!’

Ram looked up and shot an arrow at the
Pushpak Vimaan
, which was rapidly ascending into the sky. It was a shot of impotent rage, for the flying vehicle was already soaring high above.

‘Sitaaa!’

Lakshman frantically searched the camp. Bodies of dead soldiers were strewn all over. But there was no Sita.

‘Pri… nce… Ram…’

Ram recognised that feeble voice. He rushed forward to find the bloodied and mutilated body of the Naga.

‘Jatayu!’

The badly wounded Jatayu struggled to speak. ‘He’s…’

‘What?’

‘Raavan’s… kidnapped… her.’

Ram looked up enraged at the speck moving rapidly away from them. He screamed in anger, ‘SITAAAA!’

‘Prince…’

Jatayu could feel life slipping away. Using his last reserves of will, he raised his body, reached his hand out and pulled Ram towards him.

With his dying breaths, Jatayu whispered, ‘Get … her back … I … failed… She’s important … Lady Sita … must be saved … Lady Sita … must be saved … Vishnu … Lady Sita …’

… to be continued

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A
lso by
A
mish

The Shiva Trilogy

The Shiva Trilogy is the story of a simple man whose karma recast him as our Mahadev, the God of Gods.

1900 BC. In what modern Indians mistakenly call the Indus Valley Civilization. The inhabitants of that period call it Meluha — a near perfect empire created centuries earlier by Lord Ram. Her emperor, Daksha, sends emissaries across the world to ask different tribes to immigrate to Meluha. Among these tribes are the Gunas from Tibet, and their chief Shiva, is a mighty warrior. He moves to Meluha and in a curious occurrence that sees him alone of all his tribe unaffected by a high fever, Shiva’s throat turns blue. Even more surprisingly, the highly advanced Meluhans announce him as the Neelkanth, their fabled mythic savior. One who will save the empire from her enemies, the Chandravanshis and the Nagas. And thus begins Shiva’s journey.

Drawn suddenly to his destiny, by duty as well as by love, will Shiva lead the Meluhan vengeance and destroy Evil? What will be the real cost of battling Evil? And will he accept the title given to him, that of the ‘God of Gods’?

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,
The Secret of the Nagas
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The Oath of the Vayuputras
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