The Aryavarta Chronicles Kaurava: Book 2 (33 page)

The two brothers snapped to attention as the General approached. Panchali bowed, her face carefully set into the unsmiling yet not unfriendly ambivalence that gave the impression of aloofness without being offensive, and stepped away from the horses. Keechak gave her a curious look and a small smile before falling into conversation with Granthika and Tantripala about the horses and other livestock. Panchali discreetly slipped away, and thought no more about the encounter till Queen Sudeshna sent for her the same evening.

Panchali entered the room to find Sudeshna in conversation with the General. She felt a little wary at running into him again, so soon, but reasoned that it was not unusual given that he was the queen’s brother.

‘Malini, come,’ Sudeshna beckoned her closer and gestured to the usual seat Malini was accustomed to take. Panchali glanced at it and then at the General, wondering if it would be appropriate for her to sit in his presence. Sudeshna noticed and laughed. She turned to Keechak and said, ‘She has been here for ages now, but still isn’t used to the way things are done.’

The General laughed. Then he stood up. ‘A person’s worth is not judged by their station, Malini. But if it makes you more comfortable, please remaining standing. I take it you like horses? Do you ride well?’

The abrupt change in the line of conversation caught Panchali off guard, but she managed to answer that and the rest of Keechak’s questions in a matter-of-fact way. After a while the General excused himself, saying he had a task to attend to.

‘Sit, Malini,’ Sudeshna commanded. This time, Panchali complied. Sudeshna said, ‘My brother likes you, Malini. He would like to see you again. May I arrange it?’

Panchali was astonished at the nature of the request, as well as the mild way in which it was conveyed. She declined in equally polite terms. ‘Forgive me, Mahamatra. But I fear it would be inappropriate. Please excuse my inability to agree to this suggestion.’

Sudeshna was taken aback by the response but said nothing, letting Panchali go without any show of rancour.

As Panchali discovered in the women’s quarters in the next few days, her refusal had come as a shock to most. The General was disgusting neither in form nor in behaviour, and a different woman in a different situation would have not been averse to the attentions of a man who was as powerful as he was pleasant. But Panchali was not such a woman, and she persisted in her objections, no matter how many times Keechak or his sister presented his case. Soon, it became common knowledge that the war-hardened General was, simply put, besotted with Malini the handmaiden.

The General’s proclaimed interest served one advantage. It quelled the rumours that filled the palace about the passionate desire Malini and Vallabha the cook, who had come into service at the same time, had for each other. It also put an end to Queen Sudeshna’s comments in the privacy of the women’s chambers, where she often teased Panchali with bawdy descriptions of the rumoured mutual seductions – gossip that only brought Panchali dislike from her fellow handmaidens, many of whom openly professed their attraction for Vallabha.

Keechak’s confessed attraction also helped to deflect interest from Bhim-Vallabha’s rising popularity with Chief Virat and the soldiers of Matsya. Over the months, Bhim had progressed from being a mere wrestler and martial sportsman, to training many of Matsya’s captains in advance fighting techniques. In Keechak’s absence, particularly, Virat had come to rely heavily on Bhim – a development, which Dharma had been happy to encourage in his position as counsellor. Upon the General’s return, Bhim had astutely avoided attracting attention by relegating himself to his kitchen duties alone. The rumour that Vallabha was no longer in Malini’s favour – if so he had ever been – served to let him resume his training duties and avoid offending Keechak.

Barring these advantages, the General’s undiminished interest in Panchali was, to her, an inconvenience. As his persistence and proclaimed passion moved rapidly towards a dangerous situation, Panchali confessed her fears to Partha.

‘Be patient, Panchali,’ Partha-Brihannala advised. ‘We are safer than we have been in all these years. Dharma’s influence, Bhim’s strength…all these have made Matsya a comfortable, if not amiable home for us.’

‘And you wish me to add my body to that list?’ Panchali retorted.

‘You’re not the only one making sacrifices here, Panchali. Look at me! Neither man, nor woman…’

‘But still a human being! Which is more than what I feel like. I can’t Partha. Besides, there won’t be much favour left if the General forces himself on me and satisfies his wishes. And if I give in to him willingly, there won’t be any safety left us either. Rumours will spread beyond Matsya, and Syoddhan will find us. Is that what you want?’

Faced with the dilemma, Partha alternately considered asking Bhim and approaching Dharma for advice. Panchali understood his vacillation. There was a part of Partha that still looked obediently to his eldest brother for instructions and advice. Another part of him knew it would be futile to bring the problem to Dharma’s attention.

Finally, Panchali directly approached Dharma. Dharma said, ‘He’s made it obvious that he likes you, but has the General sent for you? I mean…has he ordered you to his bed?’

Panchali shook her head. ‘No. But you know he will. Dharma, please… I can’t take this anymore!’

‘Ah, my dear! If only that were excuse enough! This sad destiny is ours to suffer! We can’t afford to do anything, Panchali. Anything that is out of the ordinary, even to the least extent, must be avoided. If Syoddhan finds us… I’m sure you understand.’

‘What do you mean?’ Her voice held a trace of sharpness.

Dharma winced at her tone. Nevertheless, he patiently explained, ‘Today, we’re little more than commoners. If fate has it that we live as the servile, we can’t fight it.’

‘And? Doesn’t it once strike you that the commoners, this servile class that you’ve been relegated to,
deserve
better? Aren’t some things just wrong, whether they are suffered by peasant or king? What sort of Emperor…’

‘Don’t you dare speak to me in such a tone, Panchali. Unlike you, my principles are immutable. Divine Order is paramount. I don’t spit on the system the moment it ceases to go in my favour. I remain faithful to it – whether as slave or as king! Where was all your anger and concern when you ruled these lands as the Empress?’

‘True,’ Panchali admitted. ‘I deserve it. Everything we took for granted, everything we assumed was permanent, has been taken from us. You, an emperor, must serve as the chief’s fool, advise him on his pursuit of duty and righteousness. Partha has been rendered impotent, Bhim’s might is now a source of entertainment for others, and Nakul and Sadev must tend to herds that are not theirs. Just like commoners. By Rudra, we all deserve it. You’re right, I’m no longer an empress and…’

‘No, you are not an empress,’ Dharma said through gritted teeth, desperately trying to keep his temper. ‘You once were, but you are not one today. This is the life destined for you, and you had best make your peace with it as we all have.’

‘And if the General…?’

‘Then I suggest you satisfy his needs, as would every other handmaiden in this palace.’

Panchali stared at him for a while, and then spun on her heel and walked away.

Furious as she was with Dharma, Panchali did not see where she was going until it was too late. The impact made her lose her balance, but she felt an arm go immediately around her in support. She tried to push it away, but in vain. The General was a big, strong man. With a cry of protest, she tried to twist out of his grip. He only held on tighter. Panchali squirmed as he pushed her against the wall and held her there with his body. He was genuinely confused by her reluctance. ‘What now, Malini? We’re alone. Why do you still pretend to resist me? Stop being such a temptress.’

‘Please…’ Panchali pleaded as the General placed his hand on the bare skin of her waist. ‘Please listen to me.’

He showed no signs of letting her go. ‘Ah, my sweet love,’ he cajoled. ‘A fine woman like you could have her heart’s fill of riches and jewels, I know. But I can offer you much more… I can offer you that which a woman’s heart truly desires.’ Panchali turned her face away, even as the General placed his lips to her ear and whispered, ‘I can please you in ways that you’ve never imagined, my dear.’

‘You’ll die for ever speaking those words to me!’ Panchali snapped, her rage filling her with strength. She pushed hard at the man.

Keechak yielded and took a step back. He said, ‘Really, Malini, you’re the finest of them all. You could be a man for the iron will you nurse in your shapely body. I suppose I was right. You’re not just an ordinary handmaiden. You’re a special woman, a woman fit to be queen… My queen. Marry me, Malini. Let us do this the honourable way.’

Panchali closed her eyes, squeezing them tight against the tears that threatened. A mix of fear, fatigue, and the sheer incongruity of a situation where a man she did not care for seemed to value her sentiments more than the man she was married to, overcame her. She could hear Dharma’s words in her head.
Just a commoner.
It was not the appellation that had hurt, but the insinuation that she meant nothing and was worth nothing. The feeling turned into words, and the vague hope that it may well be a way out of her predicament.

‘Please, General,’ she said, ‘I’m hardly worthy of a man of your stature. I’m nobody, a servant, a handmaiden. Please just let me be…’

Keechak frowned. ‘Since when is a handmaiden nobody, Malini?’

‘General…’

‘Where are you from?’

‘I…’

‘Where are you from? You’re not from Matsya. You came in months ago seeking shelter and employment, that I know. Which part of Aryavarta do you come from?’

‘I…the Central lands,’ Panchali said.

‘That explains it. Well, Malini. These are not the Central lands. Come with me.’

‘But General…’

‘Yes, yes! I know, I know. Come!’ Keechak took Panchali’s wrist in a firm grip and began leading the way.

She went along silently, her suspicions growing by the moment as he strode across the palace grounds, to a windowless structure at the far end. She had often wondered what purpose the building served but no one had been able to tell her. No one, not even the groundskeeper, was allowed near it. Rumour had it that this was the General’s private dungeon, where he fulfilled his depraved needs for pleasure.

The guards on duty at the large metal doorway saluted their General, but failed to hide their surprise on seeing Panchali in tow. She was equally astonished by their reaction.
If this isn’t where he takes his women…then?
She had no time to think further on it, for as she stepped through the door it was pulled shut behind them. It was pitch dark inside the building, except for a brazier on the far wall. Without warning, the General pulled Panchali back and into his arms. She began to flail about, but, as her eyes adjusted to the light, she realized that she had been standing precariously on the edge of a narrow flight of stairs.

‘Careful.’

Panchali nodded and, extricating herself from his grip, began climbing down. The stairs levelled out into a small corridor, which led to a long, cavernous room. Unlike the one above, this room was well lit, not just with braziers, but with the light of three huge furnaces. Men working at the furnaces saluted the General and quickly returned to their tasks. Panchali was bewildered. Never had she imagined that a forge of such huge proportions remained in existence in Aryavarta, for the only one she had seen, an old forge hidden in the forests of Panchala, was just a fifth part of this one. Like the other, however, it was made of cold, dark stone, with the main chamber set within the earth. Despite the fires, the air felt cool, and a light breeze was blowing through the cavern. She wondered how it was that the forge was cooled in the absence of running water or an obvious air vent, but knew better than to ask. She turned to the General. ‘Why have you brought me here?’

‘To tell you that you are wrong. To show you that there is another way of thinking, a way that allows you and me to be together if we wish it, for no reason other than we wish it.’

‘I don’t understand.’

The General said, ‘Malini, what you believe is what most of Aryavarta believes: that birth and gender and position are what decide our lives. It is the philosophy that the Firstborn have instilled deep into the core of Aryavarta, and they have done so at a terrible price. You see, they believed that destiny and duty sanctified all things. To them, inequality was not necessarily injustice. Things were determined by a greater law, a Divine Order, and as long as that balance was kept, all other things, including hierarchy, inequality and the unfettered power of those who ruled, were justified. But here you see a man who would be considered a suta as commander of this nation’s forces. His sister, as much a suta as he is, is queen. How? Because here, in Matsya, lived those who believed otherwise…’

‘The Firewrights,’ Panchali said before she could stop herself.

Keechak looked pleased. ‘Yes,’ he said, ‘the Firewrights. The Wrights liked to pretend that they believed in equality. For what it’s worth, they once did. Their belief was that all other inequalities – be they of social standing, wealth, servitude – came from a fundamental inequality in power. And their way of achieving equality was through knowledge.’

‘Because knowledge would result in the dispersion of power from the few to the many. So, over time, inequalities would vanish.’

‘Precisely. Yet you wonder why I admire you! You really are a clever woman, Malini. And so it was that till the Great Scourge began, Matsya was by far the most powerful kingdom in all Aryavarta. Once, our kings were emperors of the entire realm. Now we hardly dare to call them kings.’

Panchali did not look convinced. She said, ‘But do you see the problem there? Knowledge itself becomes a cause of inequality, a source of power. Matsya rose by the might of the Firewrights. Matsya fell, condemned by its own ascent.’

Keechak’s face clouded with anger. With visible effort, he willed his expression into neutrality and said, ‘There’s a saying I’ve heard: “Every poison is defined by its antidote.” It is something my greatest enemy used to say.’