‘You are trying to shackle me,’ Sahaas railed. ‘I want to roam free like the cloud that goes where the wind takes it.’
‘You mean you wish to be at the mercy of circumstances,’ Meghabhuti snapped. ‘That is certainly not freedom. Freedom has to be earned by first surrendering to obedience.’
His father’s words confused Saahas. How could one be free in surrender? Dragging his feet to the Academy the next day, he was the last of the students to arrive, his chin jutting defiantly. The other young men watched him, an unasked question on their lips, was the general’s son cast from the same mould as his father?
That day and every day after that, Saahas stayed aloof, uninterested in the lessons, failing every test. His swordplay, in particular, flummoxed his teachers. Despite being light on his feet and comfortable with the sword in either hand, he slashed the air, unable to attack or defend.
‘It doesn’t feel right. How many times must I tell you I cannot do it?’ he told the master, flinging the blade aside.
‘He is doing everything he can to convince his teachers that he is unfit for the Academy,’ an exasperated Meghabhuti grumbled to Vasuket. ‘Sometimes I despair of him.’
The king roared with laughter. ‘He is a handful that one, but I am certain he will make a better general than you.’
Meghabhuti smiled. ‘I cannot wait for that day, Your Majesty, for I will not live forever.’ After a moment of reflection, he sighed, ‘In his heart, he remains a dreamer. He got that from his mother.’
‘A dreamer-warrior,’ Vasuket exclaimed. ‘I would say that is an excellent combination. He will be a visionary, my friend. Let me see what I can do.’
Arriving suddenly at the Academy the following day, he summoned Saahas, and listened to his impassioned plea, ‘Your Majesty, please believe me when I say I am not a soldier. I cannot wield a sword, it weighs me down. However hard I try, it refuses to follow my command. So, you see, I cannot become like my father. Could you please explain this to him?’
Vasuket patted Saahas on the shoulder, a suspicion of a twinkle in his eye, and left without saying a word. In a few weeks, Saahas received a parcel. Inside it was a steel sword fashioned especially for him, and it came with the king’s benediction, ‘May this sword be your Shakti.’
Running his hand down the twenty-two-inch blade, Saahas noticed a distinctive pattern mottling its surface, alternating between light and dark, like that of water flowing over pebbles. ‘A khanda,’ he breathed in awe.
There was only one other khanda in the kingdom, and it belonged to Agraj. When newly forged and delivered from the metalsmith’s yard, the prince had flaunted it, brandishing it before the fascinated boys. ‘The steel ingots came all the way from Dakhini, the kingdom in the far south. Kurikas says the unusual pattern developed when he forged the blade. That means more than one iron ore was used. He quenched it not in water, but in the ash of plantain leaves! It is truly an extraordinary sword.’
‘In gifting you the khanda, His Majesty has bestowed a special honour upon you,’ Meghabhuti told Saahas, worried that his son would stubbornly reject the king’s favour. But Vasuket’s blessing bore fruit. When Saahas clasped its wooden hilt, carved perfectly to fit his fingers, it felt exactly the way a sword should, faultless. The wide blade, two grooves running down its length, swung easily, delivering the strongest blow. While its spine was flexible enough to withstand the toughest shocks, the hard edges on either side met in a deadly point.
Saahas had heard of the blade’s reputation to cut through iron and when he tested its sharpness against shield and spear, it didn’t disappoint. The perfectly honed edges sliced through metal with the same elegance that they cut a strand of falling hair in half, the sword always maintaining its impeccable balance. ‘I love it,’ he exulted. ‘It moves at the speed of my thoughts, like an extension of my arm.’ Naming it Shakti, the Power, he felt invincible with it by his side, just as Vasuket had hoped. And his teachers heaved a sigh of relief, pleased in the certainty that the next General of Aum had been found.
3
After three years of intensive training, Saahas presented himself to his father, eager to set forth on a new adventure.
Meghabhuti was overjoyed, ‘A regiment is waiting to serve under you.’
Dismayed, Saahas burst out, ‘But, father, I did not come to you for a military commission. All these years I have done exactly as you asked, but now . . . now I want to try something else.’ He hurriedly added, ‘I have enjoyed myself immensely, but I wish to gather some real experience. Not do drills all day.’
Meghabhuti frowned, puzzled. ‘You cannot have it more real than the military. And you are absolutely ready for it.’
‘But Aum never fights any battles father. We don’t have enemies. So, what is the use of my signing up?’
One look into Saahas’s stormy eyes and Meghabhuti’s mouth tightened. ‘Yes, indeed Aum is unique in that sense, and do you know why? Because every person in the kingdom, from the king to the humblest peasant, first thinks of the kingdom.’ Noticing his son’s mulish expression, he continued in a firm voice. ‘Agraj needs you, it is your duty, your moral duty to serve Aum. Not I, but your kingdom demands it of you.’
Without saying a word, Saahas turned on his heel and left the room. He roamed the streets all day, deaf to the friendly voices hailing him. At last, at twilight, when the city fell silent and the lamps lit up one by one, the frown faded from his brow, his chin lifting in determination. Sending a message to Prince Anuj to meet him at the old ruins, he hurried there.
The old monastery was not far from the palace, separated by a thick woodland of copper pod trees that formed a natural barrier to the city on the eastern side. Visited by an occasional deer or monkey, it was so secluded and so desolate that it had quickly become the secret meeting place of the two friends.
A short while later, Anuj arrived, and they wandered among the fallen columns and broken walls, sharing a chillum. Suddenly, Saahas chuckled, ‘Imagine if your tutor sees you smoking, in this haunted place no less! He would have a heart attack!’
Anuj made a wry face. ‘Chakrawaru could never dream of me having the courage to visit this place. We must be the only two people in all of Sundernagari foolish enough to come here.’
‘I have never sensed anything sinister in these ruins,’ Saahas threw a casual look around.
‘Still, everyone talks of an evil presence. The other day, Chakrawaru was riding through the woodland and his horse broke a leg! Do you know what he said? That a monk in white robes had floated through the trees and startled his horse.’
‘Most likely the horse shied away from a rabbit and stumbled!’
They laughed until their sides hurt. ‘Oh, I’m going to miss you, all of this, so much,’ Saahas gasped, wiping his eyes.
‘What do you mean?’
Saahas looked at his friend. ‘I have decided to go away, to travel, as I’ve always wanted to. My father’s life cannot be mine.’
‘But what about me? I’ll be left with no one. Agraj stays so busy, I hardly see him, and my studies are never-ending. Chakrawaru keeps adding courses. My life is so dull.’
‘I wish you would come with me, Anuj. We would have some real adventures.’
An eager light shone in the prince’s eyes, but only for a moment. ‘Chakrawaru panics every time I sneeze. He will turn the palace upside down until we are found. No, I would only spoil your fun.’
‘Why can’t you end the tutor’s services? Surely, you don’t need him anymore.’
‘Mother wouldn’t agree, and I . . . I feel sorry for him. I am all that he has.’ Clasping Saahas, he added, ‘I’ll miss you, you scoundrel, when do you leave?’
‘At daybreak,’ Saahas’s voice quivered with excitement.
‘Don’t do anything stupid,’ Anuj tried to smile.
‘Time will fly, prince. Before you know it, I’ll be back.’
Just before dawn, Saahas stole into Meghabhuti’s room and placed a note by the bed. F
or one brief moment, his bright features sobered. Then, lightly touching his father’s feet, he hurried away.
Vasuket shot a glance at his general from under his brows. ‘Worried for Saahas?’
Meghabhuti shook his head. ‘Not for his safety, Your Majesty. Even the wild animals of Aum warn us of their presence before they appear!’ Sighing, he rubbed his large hands over his face. ‘He is twenty-one years old, an adult, and still doesn’t understand his responsibilities. I was married by that age.’
‘No doubt, but times have changed. He is a boy, both in his head and heart.’
‘He doesn’t have a shred of gratitude for the privileges bestowed on him,’ Meghabhuti countered, his brow thunderous. ‘Well, he will learn, the hard way.’
Saahas gazed down an undulating valley, a silvery green strip of a river winding through it. The wind ruffled his shoulder-length hair, playfully snatching his scarf. It floated away like a white bird and he went after it, pulling his horse, a young stallion, behind him. ‘This is real freedom. All by myself, and nobody telling me what to do! A swim in the river, what do you say?’ The horse gently nipped his shoulder. ‘Ow! Of course, we will eat. Have I ever let you starve, you big, greedy beast?’
‘What is it?’ Her Majesty swept into the informal sitting room, observing Agraj’s flushed face.
‘Mother, it’s a cry for help from Yadoba,’ he replied, showing her a missive.
‘Yadoba?’ It took a moment for the queen to recall the small kingdom situated to the north-west of Aum. No more than a ramshackle village, its chieftain, a farmer, was unused to warfare.
‘Their children are vanishing, stolen by the Ugr, a ruthless tribe from the far east, notorious for plundering vulnerable realms. May they rot in hell.’
‘We must certainly extend all help.’
Agraj’s eyes sparkled. ‘With your permission, I will be off immediately.’ But the queen shook her head. ‘No, my son, send a regiment, a peacekeeping force commanded by an able officer.’
‘What are you saying, mother? It is I who will command the regiment.’
‘Agraj,’ the queen’s voice was imperious. ‘You are itching to fight, and that could worsen the situation. Besides, His Majesty and the general are away. Aum is your responsibility.’
Outside the room, Agraj bumped into Chakrawaru. ‘Your Highness,’ quavered the tutor, ‘are you leading a charge against the Ugr? The whole palace is agog with the news.’
The prince shook his head. ‘Of course,’ Chakrawaru fawned, ‘the future king must stay safe.’
‘Do you think I care about my safety?’ Agraj snapped. ‘I wish . . . oh, never mind.’
Chakrawaru watched him stride out. ‘I pray Destiny grants your wish,’ he murmured under his breath.
Peering over the banister, Anuj watched his brother, noting the rigid set of his shoulders.
‘He is upset because he can’t fight the Ugr.’ He drew in a sharp breath. ‘But I can. I can go in his place.’ He rushed into Agraj’s room. There he found what he had come for, the khanda in its gilded scabbard. A thrill ran through him. This was his chance to do something for Aum, to make everyone proud of him.
Saahas jerked awake. Shakti pulsated in her scabbard, rattling faintly. Astonished, he gripped the blade’s warm hilt. A vibration ran up his arm, warning him. Nothing stirred in the fallow field bathed in moonlight, not even a blade of grass. An owl hooted in the branches above him and then with a slow flap of wings flew away, briefly silhouetted against the moon. Silence crept back. Saahas relaxed his hold on Shakti and just then he heard it, the snap of a twig, right behind him.
With lightning speed, he sprang to his feet, spinning around, sword in hand. ‘Who are you?’ he demanded, one swift glance taking in the weather-beaten features, the dagger at the belt.
‘My lord, I have been trying to find you for days. There is a message from the general. It is urgent.’
Saahas recognized his father’s seal on the grubby note. Inscribed in it was one cryptic line, ‘Aum is at war. You may be needed. Return as soon as possible.’
The closer he got to Sundernagari, the stronger grew the sense of urgency. Horsemen rode to and from the city, bewildered, excited. Many a time, he wanted to stop them, pelt them with questions but he kept going, determined to reach home quickly. Riding into the city, he found it shrouded in an eerie silence, groups of people standing in corners, mute and shocked. When they looked at him, with eyes full of profound sadness, Saahas spurred his horse, urging it homeward.
He pulled up at the door and rushed inside. A pall of gloom enveloped the house, the staff shedding quiet tears.
‘What is it?’ The words tore out of him. ‘Please, will someone tell me what’s going on?’ But they looked at him helplessly, unable to utter a word. ‘Lushai,’ he shook the crying servant, ‘you tell me . . .’
‘It is the general. He is . . .’ and the manservant stopped, lowering his head. Saahas rushed to his father’s chamber and halted outside, the stench of blood assailing his nostrils.
The general lay on his bed, a wounded warrior, his dimmed eyes on the door. They lit up on seeing Saahas, a shadow of a smile appearing on the grey lips. ‘My son,’ the words were barely a whisper and Saahas ran to him, kneeling beside him, pressing his lips to his father’s brow. And then he heard it all.
Anuj missing in the palace . . . some guards noticing him ride into the woodland and thinking nothing of it . . . word reaching Agraj of his younger brother leading the charge against the Ugr and rushing after him . . . Vasuket and Meghabhuti racing back to Sundernagari soon after receiving the queen’s desperate message.
A tear trickled down from the corner of Meghabhuti’s eye. ‘I reached them too late. The princes had been beheaded, mutilated by those savages.’
‘Don’t do anything stupid,’ Saahas echoed, trembling uncontrollably. ‘Anuj’s last words to me. I’ll kill them father, I’ll kill the Ugr.’
Meghabhuti drew a painful breath. ‘The leader fought me with Agraj’s khanda, but I managed to put up a good fight. When he saw his men fall, he ran away, the coward.’ Reaching for Saahas’s hand, he said in a hoarse whisper, ‘The queen is gravely ill, and the king needs you, Aum needs you. Let duty come before anything now.’
Saahas’s hot tears drenched Meghabhuti’s breast, failing to warm the icy skin. The strain in the dying man’s eyes faded, his wheezing breath quietening down. ‘Promise me you will serve the throne until the time your services are no longer needed. Promise me.’
The flames from the pyre rose up in one majestic column. Saahas stepped back, his gaze fixed and unblinking. Instantly, the gathered crowd of thousands hailed him, son of the great Meghabhuti, the new General of Aum. Even so, he remained unmoving and frozen. A gentle touch roused him from the numbness.
‘My boy,’ Vasuket’s voice was tremulous, ‘Aum’s military awaits you.’
Saahas drew a shaking breath. When he turned towards the sea of faces, the boy in him was gone, blown away into the smoke rising from the pyre.
4
Barely had Meghabhuti’s ashes gone cold when loud wails resounded within the palace. Unable to bear the terrible blow, the queen’s heart had given way.
‘Destiny has snatched my whole family in one cruel stroke,’ Vasuket lamented. Saahas pressed his lips together, forcing down sobs. His king had aged almost overnight, the dark hair streaked with grey, the gentle face withered and lined.
‘Oh,’ cried Chakrawaru. ‘My beloved Prince Anuj was the only family I ever had. I am an orphan again, Your Majesty. What is to become of me?’ Vasuket looked helplessly at the weeping man, his lips moving silently.
Taking the tutor aside, Saahas tried to explain, ‘Sir, His Majesty needs our support, our love, not our sorrow. I beg you to get a hold on yourself.’
‘So now I must learn from the one responsible for this tragedy,’ Chakrawaru grated, his features contorting. ‘Oh yes, frown at me. If you hadn’t gone off on your silly adventure, my Anuj would hav
e never taken it into his head to do something so foolhardy. He always wanted to be like you.’
An iron band tightened around Saahas’s heart. ‘Yes, and that is why it is your fault, not mine,’ he hurled back. ‘You never cared for the prince. All you cared about was your precious job.’
‘How dare you! I adored him.’
Enraged and anguished, Saahas cried out, ‘Then why didn’t you allow him to follow his heart?’
Falling back, Chakrawaru muttered, ‘He was frail, weak.’
‘No!’ The vehement retort sounded like the crack of a whip. ‘If you hadn’t smothered him, he would have been alive today. My father would have been alive today.’
‘You have gone mad, general, mad with grief,’ Chakrawaru recovered his poise, his tone scathing. ‘I loved the prince, as he loved me.’
Saahas shook his head, dashing a hand across his eyes. ‘He pitied you.’
‘P-p-pitied me? What do you mean?’ Clawing at Saahas, he tried to stall him, but the latter shook him off. ‘Don’t you dare walk away from me,’ he screamed. But Saahas didn’t stop, nor glance back at the whimpering man. A vein throbbed in Chakrawaru’s forehead. ‘One day, general, I swear you will pay dearly for humiliating me.’
‘If only someone had stopped Anuj,’ Vasuket whispered, wandering through the chambers that had till recently echoed with the laughter of his boys. ‘If only Agraj had waited for me to return.’ His eyes misting over, he sat down on the bed, caressing the pillow with one hand.
A cough broke his reverie. Chakrawaru bowed, ‘Your Majesty, the council of ministers wishes to know if you will attend court today.’
Vasuket swallowed his tears. ‘I don’t have the energy.’
‘Perhaps I could be of some use, Your Majesty,’ Chakrawaru looked earnestly humble. ‘I could take care of mundane affairs for you.’
Vasuket looked at him, a drowning man clutching at a straw. ‘Yes,’ he agreed. ‘You could be my advisor, a medium between me and the court, just till I feel better again.’
The Crown of Seven Stars Page 2
