The Aryavarta Chronicles Kaurava: Book 2 (43 page)

Both Shikandin and Govinda turned to look at the new speaker, who swung down lithely from a tree, and then at each other. Shikandin said, mock disappointment lacing his voice, ‘By Hara, we weren’t like this, were we?’

‘We had better lines,’ Govinda said. ‘This boy thinks he’s in a play at a village fair.’

At that the company burst out laughing. Yuyudhana, still bleary-eyed from having been woken up, but delighted to see Shikandin and Dhrstyadymn stepped forward to greet the brothers with vigorous embraces. ‘You’re a sight for sore eyes, my friends.’

‘You can say that again,’ Shikandin replied.

‘How did you get here?’

In response, Shikandin pointed to the dim outline of a lone eagle perched on a rock nearby.

‘I didn’t send you a message,’ Govinda protested.

‘No, but Subadra did. We were heading for Dwaraka, but our feathered friend found us on the way. Anyway,’ Shikandin gestured to Govinda’s whiplash wounds, ‘what happened to you? You look like you mated with a spiked sea-creature.’

Dhrstyadymn screwed up his face in disgust. ‘Why the sudden references to mating with different animals, brother?’

It was Govinda who replied, ‘It means Shikandin has been spending a lot of time with old friends.’ As Dhrstyadymn started, he explained, ‘These are turns of phrases unique to their tribes. How is she, Shikandin? And that brother of hers – Sthuna? Does he still sing as well as he used to?’

‘She’s dead, Govinda. And there hasn’t been much cause for Sthuna to sing of late.’

‘I…’ Govinda struggled for words. Giving up, he squeezed Shikandin’s shoulder. With a deep breath, he declared, ‘I’m tired, Shikandin. I’m tired of losing those we love. I’m tired of hiding the pain and pretending to surrender to a greater cause. I’m tired of fighting battles for others. One last fight, one last plan, and I’m done.’

Shikandin said, ‘Let’s get Panchali out of there and go home. But first, there is someone I’m eager to meet.’

‘Abhimanyu,’ Govinda called out. The young man standing by the tree came forward.

Shikandin let out a low whistle, even as Dhrstyadymn gasped.

‘Now, my friends,’ Govinda cautioned. ‘You don’t want to say anything about his resemblance to me. He hates it!’

‘Who in Rudra’s name said he looks anything like you, Govinda?’ Shikandin said. ‘This man has Subadra written all over him. He has her eyes.’

Abhimanyu looked at Shikandin with newfound curiosity. It served to remind him of his manners, and he bowed to the two brothers and greeted them respectfully. Then he straightened up and said, ‘Well, what now? Reunions are all very well, but I prefer either sleep or strategizing to sentimentality.’

‘And there the resemblance to Subadra ends and Pradymna’s influence begins,’ Govinda affectionately complained. ‘But he has a point. Since it is less than a muhurrta to dawn, I suggest we decide on the next plan of action.’

Dhrstyadymn said, ‘The plan of action is simple. We go into Matsya. We get Panchali. We come back out.’

‘Except for one problem,’ Balabadra pointed out.

‘Which is?’

‘That,’ he pointed over the cliffside into the gorge that lay far below.

‘The pass?’

‘No, what’s in it. More soldiers than it can hold, Dhrstyadymn. Syoddhan is here with his entire army, as well as Vasusena and Asvattama’s men. How do you suggest we get past that?’

Shikandin threw himself down and stretched out on the ground. He said, ‘By waiting till the inevitable happens.’

‘And that is?’

‘After an expected and rather jaded dramatic pause, Commander Govinda Shauri will tell us there is another way.’

They turned in unison to look at Govinda. He shrugged.

‘Well?’ Balabadra urged, with learned impatience.

‘What can I say?’ Govinda replied. ‘There
is
another way…’

25

‘
AGRAJA…
’

The voice that called out to him was a familiar one, yet Dharma Yudhisthir knew he had not heard it in years.

A dream, he noted, and himself an observer suspended between the waking world and the one inside his mind. A memory flashed within the dream – his grandfather teaching him how to let the conscious self retreat into sleep so that one’s inner voice would speak, revealing truths that remained hidden in daylight. Except, Dharma did not know what it was that he had sought out his inner voice for.

‘Agraja!’

This time, the voice was urgent. In his vision, Dharma turned with a tired sigh to face the speaker. ‘What is it, Syoddhan?’

‘Agraja, you must come at once. Bhim and Dussasan…’

‘They are fighting again? By Hara, these boys… What is it now?’

‘Something about nothing, as usual. Bhim called my father a blind snake and Dussasan called yours a spineless coward…’

‘That’s all? And they’re fighting over this?’

‘Well…’ Syoddhan looked a little uncomfortable. ‘Their choice of words wasn’t as mild as mine. But please, Agraja, come with me. Bhim won’t listen to anyone but you.’

‘Bhim is your younger brother too, Syoddhan. He ought to respect you.’

‘Hah! I can’t get Dussasan to respect me or listen to me. Bhim is a far cry from that lout. One day my brothers will be the death of me. Yours will be your strength. I’d give you my crown, my throne, any day if I could have brothers like yours.’

Dharma laughed, restrained and adult-like, even in youth. ‘That is destiny, Syoddhan. Yours is the throne, and mine is the means to rule.’

‘Then, perhaps, the throne too should be yours. All I can do with it is what my father already does – sit on it just so that it does not fall into the wrong hands. I often wonder what I am, a warrior or a sentry.’

‘Dear brother, you have no idea what a noble function that is. There are only two things worth guarding in the world – uncorrupted good and undiluted evil. Good is a great power, and it must be preserved and passed on. As for evil…’

Syoddhan’s unlined boyhood face lit up in a way few ever saw. ‘Dharma Yudhisthir, wise beyond wisdom and mysterious as an elephant’s backside. You’ve got my attention, Agraja, so I shall ask: Why would anyone guard evil?’

Dharma threw his arm around Syoddhan’s shoulder, pulling him into a fraternal embrace as they began walking. ‘Because, my dear crown-prince-who-knows-the-answer-but-is-too-lazy-to-explain-it, evil must be guarded if only to keep it out of the wrong hands.’

‘In that case, we’d better hurry. Dussasan may or may not be undiluted evil, but right now Bhim’s hands are certainly the wrong ones!’

The dream continued, a garbled version of true memory. Dharma the observer found himself getting impatient:
Why am I here? What’s in this dream?
His mind protested, watching himself observe a young but still powerful Bhim beating his cousin Dussasana to near-death.

‘Patience!’ The voice that now counselled Dharma came not from memory but from imagination. It was a voice he had always longed to hear.

Grandfather,
the observer called out, as Dwaipayana took form in his dream.

‘You promised me, Dharma. You said you wouldn’t let me down. I told you after your coronation that it did not matter how you had become Emperor. What mattered was why you were on the throne. Your rule was the beginning of a new era. I chose you over Syoddhan for that reason alone. But you…look what you’ve done.’

I did my best, Acharya
, Dharma protested.
Everything I said and did as Emperor was to keep the realm free of Firewrights, of their craft…
He stopped, as in his dream, a young Syoddhan walked out to stand next to Dwaipayana. The old scholar’s eyes filled with pride, an expression that Dharma had always seen used for himself and never for his cousin.

Dwaipayana turned to Syoddhan and asked him. ‘What will you do when you are Emperor of Aryavarta, my son?’

Syoddhan dutifully answered, ‘I will protect all that is good, Acharya. I will protect Divine Order and our way of life.’

But that is what I did!

‘And? Is that all, Syoddhan?’

Syoddhan said, ‘No, Acharya. I will guard evil from itself.’ He turned to face Dharma and said, ‘You taught me that, Agraja. You taught me that.’

‘Agraja…’

Dharma opened his eyes.

‘Agraja…wake up.’

‘Bhim?’ Dharma sat up and looked out of his small camp-tent at the dark skies outside. ‘What happened? Is everything all right?’

‘All is well, Agraja. Listen, I’m leaving with the others. One way or another, I will bring Chief Virat back.’

Your brothers are your strength. Protect the good. Guard evil from itself.

Dharma got out of his bed with renewed will. ‘I’m coming with you.’

‘Agraja? But…’

‘I am coming with you,
Vallabha
. It is my duty. And in Varuna’s name, stop calling me “agraja”. Here, I am Kanka.’

Dharma found the same mix of surprise and delight that he had seen on Bhim’s face on Nakul and Sadev’s too, as they watched him walk up to them in the full armour of a Matsya soldier. Sankha, too, looked pleased.

‘Well, Kanka. Looks like you’re good for more than just playing dice.’

If Dharma or his brothers saw any irony in the statement they did not let it show.

Sankha continued, ‘Right. Are we all here? All right, Vallabha, what is this plan of yours?’

Bhim stepped forward and took command of the situation. ‘It’s very straightforward,’ he said, crouching down to draw on the sand with his finger as he spoke. ‘The Trigarta forces came at us from due west. We met them in battle along a rather wide line – over here. In fact, Sankha, you chose this spot because it gave us a strategic advantage.’

‘Yes,’ the prince confirmed. ‘The cliffs run at an angle north and south of the point to form a small ravine. It forced the enemy into a confined space but allowed us to spread out wide. Of course, the plan worked only because we outnumbered the enemy at least five to one. I suppose that is redundant now,’ he finished.

‘Not completely,’ Bhim said. ‘The Chief was taken from our camp while the battle was on. Which means the men who took him had to be behind us. Also, once they captured the Chief they could not take him directly westwards because we were in the way.’

Dharma said, ‘What if they went along or around the ravines…’

‘Which they could, given time. But it would be a huge risk to take a hostage in the open over such a distance. Also, they overpowered the Chief’s personal guards at the camp. No matter how stealthy their approach, that would have taken at least ten men, maybe more. It’s too big a group to keep moving in the open, especially when we have such a vast army at our disposal to look for them and give chase. They would have gone into hiding as soon as possible.’

‘But where?’ Sankha asked. ‘There is no place to hide between the camp and the battlefront, and if they did not climb up the cliffs or go around into the ravines on the other side, where could they have gone?’

Bhim said, ‘Eastwards. Behind us. Into Matsya.’

‘But,’ Bhuminjaya said, ‘even if they did try something so audacious there’s no place to hide there. It’s just desert land with the occasional nomads’ settlement.’

‘Which is why,’ Bhim explained, ‘I requested you to send for Granthika and Tantripala. Along with the scout, these two men have been to every settlement within a day’s ride of here. Of course, they pretended they were heralds taking messages back to the capital, but both Granthika and Tantripala found us the one sign that could help us identify the settlement the enemy was using to hide in – livestock.’

Nakul continued, ‘Human beings can lie, or be scared into silence and submission. Horses and cattle are another story. It didn’t take us long to find a settlement where new horses had been added to a group of the old even though they all looked dirty and worn. Horses behave differently when in groups… When we also found that in the same settlement the cattle had been fed in their bowers and not been let out to graze on the nearby scrub it left no doubt.’

Swetha, who had been silent all the while, let out an angry yell. ‘Yabha! The entire village of traitors should burn for this!’

‘Don’t be hasty, Swetha,’ Sankha cautioned. ‘They may not have had a choice. What would you do if the enemy brought the Chief to your doorstep and told you to follow their orders or they would kill him… And for all we know they may have taken the villagers hostage too.’

Sadev said, ‘We had the same suspicion, and that is why we kept an eye on the settlement from afar. Even Matsya’s sun wouldn’t stop children from coming out to play. When we saw none running around, we realized that they too were probably being held hostage.’

‘Maraka! A plague on all Trigarta!’ Swetha swore. ‘Don’t they have any regard for morality? Using children and innocents to hide…’

Bhim said, ‘I know a very wise man, who would often say that morality is a subtle thing. It has taken me years to understand his words. But now that I do, I see how morality becomes the most powerful value of them all. Which brings me to the plan. It has to be a surprise attack, or else we will place the Chief and the villagers in danger. I propose this: We ride, just a few of us, to this village. We say we are raising muster for the Matsya army and all able-bodied men must join us right away. The enemy is most likely to let all the men of the village go, with the caution that if they reveal anything, their women and children won’t live. Perhaps an enemy soldier or two will join them. Once that happens, the advantage is ours. Any and every able-bodied man, barring the Chief, who remains in the village, is clearly one of the enemy. We can kill without hesitation. Unfortunately, the plan puts the women and children at greater risk, not to mention the old men left in the village. That is my only concern.’

Dharma said, ‘But it is a risk we must take. A village for a nation is good trade, and what is a nation without its chief?’

‘Father would never approve!’ Bhuminjaya blurted out.

Sankha waved him silent. ‘I won’t let even a single innocent die, brother. But I won’t lose Father, either.’ He looked around at the small company. ‘Let’s go. We should reach there at dawn and catch the enemy unprepared. Come, Vallabha, Kanka. Let’s ride out and bring back the Chief!’