The bell tolled six.
The door swung open and a rectangular piece of light fell across the floor. She suppressed a scream with great difficulty. To reach the window, she had to cross the patch of light and risked being seen by whoever was entering the room. She quickly ducked behind the table. Several pairs of legs walked in—from her position that was the first thing she saw. Some of the manuscripts had fallen from her hand again.
She heard the door being shut and someone walk towards the table, straight at her. Her heart pounding in her ribcage, she quickly hid behind the chair of the mahapradhana. A lamp was placed on the table and, fortunately for Sivagami, the chair threw a massive shadow on the floor and on the wall behind it. She was well hidden between the chair and the wall. For now.
She peeped out. Skandadasa was sitting on his chair. A fat man, a priest and a high official in dandakara uniform were sitting across the table. It was then that she saw her father’s book. It was lying near the fat man’s chair. If he moved his feet an inch, he would step on it. She bit her nails, not knowing how to retrieve it. She calculated her chances of grabbing it and making a dash for the window. She could fling it across the fort wall and, hopefully, Gundu Ramu would catch it and race back to the orphanage.
‘What do you want, Bhoomipathi Pattaraya?’ Skandadasa said suddenly.
‘The thing you are hiding, swami,’ Pattaraya said with a smile.
‘I have nothing to hide. My life is an open book,’ Skandadasa said.
‘Let us not waste time, Skandadasa. We know you have taken it. We can understand the temptation. Even a nobleman like…hmm…this Dandanayaka Pratapa, could be tempted by such a golden chance to make money. The temptation for a bear dancer’s son who finds himself in such a responsible post is quite understandable,’ Pattaraya said and leaned back on his chair.
Skandadasa slammed his fist on the table, ‘Out!’ he yelled, pointing his finger at the door. ‘Get out of this room. Now. Or else I will call the guards.’
‘Oh, we are terrified,’ Pattaraya laughed. He leaned forward and said, ‘Bastard. Enough of your act. You are more corrupt than anyone else. We have a deal. We will share the profit. Four of us. You don’t worry about how we will sell it. You hand over the Gauridhooli to us, keep supplying us once in a while, and we can make you rich beyond your imagination.’
Pratapa added, ‘Don’t worry about Roopaka. We will work out his profit too.’
Sivagami saw that Skandadasa’s hand was searching for something in the drawer of his table. His hand stopped foraging when he found what he wanted.
Rudra Bhatta said, ‘I will give you a better offer. I will change your caste. I will proclaim you and your family as belonging to Kshatriyas. As per karma, you are doing a Kshatriya’s work. Of course, you have to pay a fortune to the temple and feed many Brahmins for the ceremony, give away many gifts, cows—I shall guide you. The money Pattaraya is offering would be more than sufficient for it.’
Skandadasa flashed the dagger he was now holding and pointed it at Pattaraya’s neck, ‘Get out this moment.’
Pattaraya shook his head in dismay. ‘I thought you were an intelligent man. But on second thoughts, why am I surprised by your stupidity? You have displayed an ignorance befitting your lineage.’ The line was delivered with great disdain, calculated to provoke.
With a yell of anger, Skandadasa jumped up, brandishing his dagger. The chair hit Sivagami and she put her hand over her mouth to prevent herself from crying out.
Pattaraya and his friends stood up. ‘Easy, easy my friend. You are so touchy,’ Pattaraya said and walked to the door. Sivagami crawled out and snatched the book.
At that moment, Pattaraya turned and cried, ‘What is this—you have a girl here? No wonder you were acting so heroic.’
Sivagami stood up, clutching her book behind her back, and took a few steps back. Skandadasa stared at her. ‘You?’ he asked in surprise.
Sivagami screamed, but before she could warn him, Pattaraya and Pratapa had grabbed Skandadasa. Pratapa prised away the dagger while Pattaraya held him firm. Pratapa said, ‘Bhatta, search everywhere. See where he has kept the Gauridhooli.’
Someone knocked loudly on the door. ‘Hurry,’ Pratapa cried.
Sivagami walked one step at a time to the window. The priest threw down everything that was on the shelves, pulled down the curtains, and ransacked the table.
‘It is not here, it is not to be found, Rama, Rama, Krishna,’ the priest cried in a shrill voice.
The knock on the door became a bang. ‘Open, open,’ a frantic voice cried.
‘It is Keki,’ Pratapa said, and Pattaraya indicated with his eyes to the priest to open it. He hissed to Skandadasa, ‘Stay still, you vermin.’
Rudra Bhatta opened the door and Keki rushed in. ‘There is a coup. Vaithalikas are attacking the king. There is a great battle raging. The palace has caught fire.’
Skandadasa struggled to free himself but Pattaraya held him firm. He started laughing, ‘That is wonderful news. A god-given opportunity.’
‘But we did not get what we have come for,’ cried the priest.
‘You are a fool, Brahmin. So am I and so is this Pratapa,’ Pattaraya said. Through the open door, the orange hue of distant fire danced around in the room, drawing patterns on the wall.
Pattaraya pressed Skandadasa’s neck and said, ‘This vermin, this low-caste bastard, almost outwitted the great Pattaraya.’
‘What do you mean?’ said Pratapa.
‘If he had the Gauridhooli in this room, do you think he would have left it unguarded? Brahmin, check Skandadasa thoroughly. If I am Pattaraya, I vouch that he is carrying it on his person.’
Sivagami saw Skandadasa’s face becoming pale. A few steps more, a few steps more, she repeated in her mind as she inched towards the window. Rudra Bhatta hesitated, unable to bring himself to touch an untouchable. Keki stepped in and started searching Skandadasa. The mahapradhana somehow freed his right hand and smashed Pattaraya’s chest with his elbow. The bhoomipathi’s grip loosened and Skandadasa freed his other hand as well. He hit Pratapa who was thrown back with the impact. The dagger fell from his hand. Skandadasa tried to run but Keki caught hold of his leg, bringing him down on his face.
‘Whoa, whoa, where are you going, bear dancer?’ Keki cried as she held on to Skandadasa’s legs. Pratapa jumped up from the floor and started kicking the fallen mahapradhana.
‘Sivagami…’ Skandadasa yelled as she was about to jump over the window. She paused. Pratapa had pinned the mahapradhana to the floor and Keki was searching him. Skandadasa managed to take out a small copper pot from his waist-band and threw it to Sivagami. The lemon-sized pot landed near her feet with a thunk and rolled to the wall.
‘Take that and run,’ he managed to say.
Sivagami took the pot in her hand, unsure of what to do. The room was silent. She looked at the men, and then at the strange-looking pot which was sealed tightly.
‘Girl, give us that,’ Pattaraya stepped forward, extending his hand.
‘No, no, run, Sivagami, run. Never let these villains get hold of it. Please…’ Skandadasa cried.
Pratapa slammed his fist down on the mahapradhana’s head. ‘Quiet, you low-caste scoundrel,’ he said as he punched him again.
Sivagami hesitated. She had no love for the country. Why should she get involved?
‘This man has stolen the country’s secret, girl. We are officials trying to recover it from the thief. Give it to us and we shall let you go. Do not interfere in official matters and get implicated,’ Pattaraya said.
‘Run to the maharaja or Parameswara. Your country’s future depends on it, please,’ Skandadasa struggled to speak as Pratapa slammed his head on the floor again. Skandadasa’s nose broke and blood squirted out. Sivagami let out a gasp. This was the man who had been kind to her. He was being tortured and she was watching without doing anything. She felt sick.
Pattaraya was observing the effect their violence on Skandadasa wa
s having on Sivagami. She was close to the window, and if she jumped out and ran, it would be difficult to catch her. The girl looked young and sprightly. He knelt before Skandadasa.
‘Tell her to hand it over or she will watch you die,’ Pattaraya said in a matter-of-fact tone which sent a chill down Sivagami’s spine.
Skandadasa mumbled, ‘Run, Sivagami, please…’
Pattaraya took the dagger from the floor, pulled back Skandadasa’s head by his hair and pressed the tip of the dagger on his exposed neck. He stared at Sivagami but said to Skandadasa, ‘Vermin, ask the girl to hand over the Gauridhooli to us or you die.’
‘Sivagami, run,’ Skandadasa managed to say.
Pattaraya grinned at Sivagami and thrust the dagger into Skandadasa’s throat. Blood squirted in an arc and drops of it fell near her feet. She saw Skandadasa’s eyes go white and his knees limp. Blood gurgled out of the wound in his throat, through his mouth and nose. Pattaraya let go of Skandadasa, and the first and last mahapradhana of Mahishmathi who had known hunger and starvation, who had fought against discrimination and risen to the highest position in the country by sheer hard work and sincerity, fell dead at the foot of the table where he had toiled for the good of the country for three long decades.
Sivagami rushed to him, forgetting about her own safety. Blood was spreading around his head on the floor. She stood watching him. She had witnessed the most despicable crime. The death of an honourable man, slain by evil men, and she had not been able to do anything. Something in her died that moment. Her belief in good triumphing over evil was shattered by what she had seen. She held her head and wept in agony. Pattaraya smiled. As expected the girl had run back to the centre of the room from the window. She was trapped. Now it was a matter of killing her too and taking the Gauridhooli.
Pratapa cried, ‘What have you done?’
‘Me?’ Pattaraya feigned surprise. ‘What did I do? The Vaithalikas killed Skandadasa. The corrupt mahapradhana stole Gauridhooli and invited in the Vaithalikas to kill the king. That is why he was standing at the gate. This traitor let the rebels in to kill the maharaja. They had a tiff about how to share the profits, and the Vaithalikas killed their partner in crime. What has poor Bhoomipathi Pattaraya got to do with such evil men, friend?’
‘So you are going to surrender the Gauridhooli?’ Rudra Bhatta asked anxiously.
‘Ha Ha,’ Pattaraya laughed. ‘Everything about the plan remains unchanged. I will throw this over the fort wall and Hidumba will take it where we planned. Meanwhile, we will be playing heroes, fighting to save the maharaja from the Vaithalikas. That is the only improvisation. We are patriots, aren’t we?’ he laughed.
‘You are a genius,’ Rudra Bhatta said.
‘I know,’ Pattaraya smiled.
‘But what about the girl?’ Keki asked.
‘This daughter of a traitor?’ Pattaraya rubbed his thick lips with his fingers and cocked his head. He smirked at Sivagami who was crying over Skandadasa’s inert body. ‘Do you need me to spell these things out, Pratapa?’ he asked.
Pratapa smiled and took the dagger from Pattaraya’s hands. He tiptoed towards Sivagami. His shadow loomed large and filled the room. From the corner of her eyes she sensed him coming. She waited. A second before he had anticipated, she grabbed the lamp and slammed it on Pratapa’s face. The lamp went off, plunging the room into darkness. Sivagami ran to the window and dove outside, clutching her book in one hand and the pot of Gauridhooli in the other.
‘Catch her,’ she heard Pattaraya say. ‘Finish her and get the godamn powder.’
She wanted to run but she remembered Gundu Ramu would be waiting alone outside. She threw the book, but it did not clear the wall. It hit the wall a few feet below the top and fell down. She ran to pick it up and saw Pratapa jumping from the window with the dagger in his hand.
Sivagami grabbed the book and threw it again. This time it cleared the wall. She took off. Pratapa screamed behind her, brandishing his dagger as she ran for her life. She had no idea what the pot contained, but if big officials were willing to kill the prime minister of the country for it, it must hold something important. A man like Skandadasa was ready to die for it. She thought she would be able to use such a significant secret and then felt ashamed that she was having such thoughts. The face of Skandadasa as he died came rushing to her mind. His death should not be in vain. She held on to the pot firmly and continued to run.
FORTY-EIGHT
Gundu Ramu
Gundu Ramu had been waiting near the wall for a long time. He was sitting on a stone that had fallen from the fort wall. Across the road, wild grass obstructed his view of the river. He was thankful for it. The river frightened him. He was scared of the darkness. He was terrified to be alone. Yet he was sitting near the river on a deserted road in the night. Every time fear raised its ugly head, he reminded himself was that he was doing this for Sivagami akka. He thanked God that the evil men he had seen earlier were nowhere around. Even the slightest sound made him tremble with fear and he repeated Arjuna’s name over and over in his mind. He fell asleep after some time and woke up with a start when the bell tolled six times.
It was dark and eerie. The only sound was the drone of crickets and the occasional frog croaking. Ahead of him, the branches of a tree started shaking. He quickly shut his eyes and his fingers dug into his thighs as he intensified his prayers. He heard a sharp squeal and cried out aloud. When he opened his eyes after a few moments, he saw a bat that had been hanging upside down from the tree branch, flapping its wings and flying across the river. It was only a bat—he smiled and sighed with relief. The bat rose high and for a moment Gundu Ramu saw it frozen like a scary picture, with the moon in the background. All the ghost stories his father had told him came rushing back.
Suddenly, he felt that a pair of eyes was looking at him from the bushes. He could sense it. The eyes were boring into his plump body. The air felt cold. A breeze picked up the dry leaves near his feet and made them dance and cartwheel. He started chanting the mantra again and felt relief. God would save him. He had never harmed anyone in life. His father always said god was there to protect good people from evil ones. But why had God not protected his father? No, he wouldn’t doubt God and incur his wrath. He started chanting the mantra again.
When the breeze from the river stopped, a burning smell filled the air. He sniffed the air and heard shouts and screams from a distance. An orange hue started spreading over the shadows, lighting them. Somewhere a massive fire had started. The wind carried luminous flares that spiralled and glided above him. Why was Sivagami akka taking so much time?
Suddenly he heard a noise. He went to the middle of the road to wait for the book to come flying over the wall. He saw something rise high in the air, flying over the fort wall. It caught the light of the raging fire on the other side of the fort for a moment, and shone as it spun in the air. Then it came down faster than he had anticipated. Gundu Ramu tried to catch it but it fell past his hands. He knelt down to pick up the book but, astounding him, a dwarf shot out of a bush. Gundu Ramu screamed in fear, snatched up the manuscript and ran. Did he actually see it or was it his imagination playing on his fears? He heard a sharp whistle. He turned back and found that he was looking at a dwarf and two gigantic men who towered over him. He recognized them as the evil men who had killed the sentries. The dwarf whistled again and pointed at what he was holding.
Gundu Ramu stepped back, suppressing a sob. He wanted to run but his legs had turned wooden with fear. He could feel himself lose control of his bladder, and the water traced a warm path down his legs and puddled around his feet. The pungent smell of urine filled his nostrils. He was ashamed of what he had done.
‘Aha, what a surprise,’ the dwarf said as he walked around Gundu Ramu. ‘I have been watching your idiocy for some time, son. You are so cute. Do you want to come with me? I will ensure you will reach a high position in life.’ The two giants laughed.
‘In fact, you can live at the top of a mountain
where the air is clean, fresh and cool. And there are men—not big men like these two, but men like me—men who do not like girls but who would love to have a soft plump boy like you to cuddle,’ Hidumba winked and his two thugs laughed again. Hidumba pinched Gundu Ramu’s cheeks and said, ‘The men will love you, and if you are lucky, at some point the great Hidumba will love you too. Do you know Hidumba? He is a great man. Have you seen him, sweetheart? Look, he is before you. Tch, tch, why are you crying? Don’t you want to be loved, my boy? Don’t you want a shove from behind to…err…come up in life? Tell me, tell me?’
Gundu Ramu shrank back from Hidumba’s touch. It was very creepy. He tried to run, but one of the giants blocked him. He caught Gundu Ramu by his shoulders and turned the boy to Hidumba. This time, the smile had disappeared from the dwarf’s lips and his pig eyes burned with rage. He jumped and slapped the boy’s cheeks. Gundu Ramu held his face with his palm and started weeping. His entire body shook when he cried.
‘You turn away my offer of love? Wait till you reach my place. I will teach you how to treat great men with respect. Take him, Ranga. He is coming with us to Gauriparvat. We will give him a new job.’
Gundu Ramu took to his heels but the giant tripped him and the boy fell on his face. The giant pressed his knee down on the boy’s back, twisted his head towards him, and started punching and slapping Gundu Ramu till he stopped struggling. Soon Gundu Ramu’s cries of agony turned to whimpers. The giant tore off Gundu Ramu’s dhoti and wrapped him in it. Still, Gundu Ramu held the book to his chest. He lifted the boy up and carried him on his shoulders to the chariot. He threw the boy down near the wheels. Gundu Ramu cried in pain but he would not let go what was Sivagami’s. Despite his best efforts, though, he was no match for the giant’s strength. Ranga prised open Gundu Ramu’s plump hands from his chest and the book fell down.
The Rise of Sivagami : Book 1 of Baahubali - Before the Beginning Page 37
