Throne of Purvakhand

by ASHUTOSH RAI

  Nandkant defended Saras by saying that the previous emperors of Purvakhand were belonging to the clan of Sage Krantivir who was a Brahman, the legendary Rakshak Tezvir and Rudravir were too from the same clan and even late Emperor Vikramchandra was a Brahman and no one can be equal to them in knowledge, strength and bravery. Nandkant moves ahead with his words and challenges everyone in the court, ‘You all know me. I am Nandkant. A warrior priest born in Virnagre and Saras is my son. I think this is enough for the participation.’

  ‘But this is not Virnagre. This is Kundey and Kundey has its own rules for every Varna, literally caste,’ said Nasur, the handicapped king of Kundey. He had lost his right hand and last two fingers of his left eye along with his left ear.

  ‘I know Nasur that this is Kundey and you are as sinister as your name,’ said Nandkant, frowning.

  ‘Mind your tongue, Nandkant or else you will be beheaded,’ ranted Nasur. ‘I had neither forgotten that night when you Satyarathi behaved with me like a beast. The most pain then I got was of my ears. That moment when Abhiyudh had cut my ears. I can’t forget them even in my dreams.’

  ‘Near his neck’, murmured Nandkant and Saras nocked an arrow on his bow and aimed it near Nasur’s neck. The next moment Nasur was quite. The arrow has passed near to his neck, frosting his psyche.

  ‘I hope that the arrow better retorted that who will be beheaded. It is good that you recall the result of your sins today,’ smiled Nandkant. ‘It will be much better to shut your mouth and never talk of your evil codes which had polluted the Varna system. Saras can lift the hammer easy than any of other suitors you had invited and if again you need proof for his strength and bravery then any of you warrior caste men or all of you together stand up. My son is ready to slew you if needed. He can defeat you all cowards.’

  Now it’s being the question of pride of warrior caste. Kumud was seeing that situation had gone worst. She started praying Lord Vishnu. The King, the General and other participants accepts the challenge but no one knew of the deep secret Nandkant was hiding from years. Saras is the lost son of Emperor Vikramchandra. He was scion of those brave warriors who had wield this hammer in many great wars and won over their foes.

  Everyone tried to lift the hammer. They used all their power and strength of their muscular body but could not lift the hammer even to height of an angula. Puffing and sweating they fell unconscious and then their men held on shoulders and made them sit on their respective seats. Now when the proud of the royals is already lost, the king’s announcer announces the most awaited name of the day: Saraswatichandra. It was chance of Saras and everybody just had their eyes coming out of their head. Saras came nearer to the hammer. It too had the same swastika symbol which he had seen on the bow’s grip in the Vahunian temple. As his fingers touched the hammer, the size of hammer reduced to height of one hasta and the diameter of its handle reduced to normal clutch of his fist. He had lifted it up high as high his hand could stretch and then he beamed and he beamed with joy and beats the hammer furiously on the drum placed next. The sound produced was piercing the eardrum of his already defeated competitors signifying that he won Kumud. Saras, Kumud and Nandkant were too was amazed like others who were present there when this all happened but they had mark of joy and happiness in their amazement.

  Saras came near stairs and a growling voice is heard. ‘It is our right, Nandkant. Your son cannot marry Kumud. We will declare the winner.’ It was Swayambadha. He suddenly changed to a big animal. He had turned into giant man with head of fox. He projects to climbs on Saras and Saras was too ready. He aimed his arrow to the beast’s head. Nandkant comes in between and roared, ‘Stop there! Swayambadha.’ Nandkant held Swayambadha by his neck in his strong old right hand and threw him to the wall on his left. Swayambadha arose again abusing. With a roared he attacked Nandkant and pushed him back. Both sped against each other and jammed on their jaws. Nandkant kicked Swayambadha on thigh and it made him tremble. Contorted in throes, Swayambadha was not able to stand. This was right time or Nandkant to make his final attack. He clenched Swayambadha and held his another thigh lifting him above shoulder. He thrust him vigorously on ground. Swayambadha had his eyes closed. He had become unconscious.

  Everyone just cold see with their mouth open as they saw any dream. Such powers in the hand of old man. No one more dare to confront the Satyarathi Nandkant.

  ‘I think now there is no doubt about the winner,’ said Nandkant loudly with a sarcastic glare at Nasur and Vikrant. Nasur took finger over his lips and Vikrant took his chairs.

  Saras moved ahead and went upstairs, taking her hand in his hand he comes down. Kumud turned to Vikrant. She didn’t want to do this by crushing her father’s heart. Vikrant nodded unwillingly. Both were in each other’s arm after changing the Varmala.

  During The session of Varmala, General Vikrant cold only see her daughter with mortified glance. He can’t stop it as the boy lifted the hammer and going against him is a call of sure death. Nandkant was ready to slay the obstacles. Everyone’s unnerved face shaded with sadness and shame. Their pride of being from royal warrior blood was perished unfathomably.

  You know what Vikrant. Don’t be ashamed. Your daughter is going to be an empress after her marriage. Saras is not my original son. He is the lost son of Emperor Vikramchandra. Saraswatichandra is the second son of the late emperor and is only living heir to the justice throne of Purvakhand. He will rule from the throne of Virnagre. And the Virans who left their land will be back in the guard of their king.’ Nasur and other stare Nandkant with their eyes tethered in awe.

  Nandkant was overwhelmed as after many years he anger has come out.

  Vikrant opposed Nandkant. ‘This is lie. Sons of Vikramchandra was died twenty three years ago.’

  Nandkant replies with a roar, ‘I never lie. I am a Satyarathi and you know this.’

  ‘If you can live in Kundey. If you want a Princess to be married with your son then you can lie,’ said Vikrant staring Nandkant.

  ‘Vikrant, Don’t try to examine my anger. Never,’ snarled Nandkant. ‘No one can deny my words. I will be a Satyarathi till my death. And a Satyarathi never lie, even on his own death. Now soon everything is going to change. The rule of Virnagre will be back. THE ONE WHOM FUTURE AWAITS is live.’

  Nandkant declares Saras as the lost son of Vikramchandra and only heir to the empty throne of Purvakhand and this news streamed like forest-fire in Kingdom of Kundey and reached to the ears of Dark Witch Saile.

  Socked Saras could not understand what Nandkant mean to say. He stared at Nandkant with bewilderment in his eyes.

  ‘Make Preparations,’ said Nandkant. ‘The coming third day is very auspicious. Till take care of yourself and most of my daughter in law.’ Nandkant gave a generous smile while giving his blessings to Kumud. ‘May you get every happiness of world and keep my son happy and satisfied.’

  As Nandkant darted outside of Royal house, Saras gave Kumud a goodbye glance. Kumud turned to his father. Vikrant hugged her warmly. ‘Noting went as I thought but you should not worry, the arrangement will be best.’ Kumud gave a big smile to her father and embraced him tightly.

  Now everyone in the assembly of Swayamvara started mumbling each other and the face of General Vikrant which has faded dull few hours before smiled with a new charm of satisfaction. His daughter was going to a royal house not to a house of poor priest.

  Black clouds showered over Vatvriksh. Kumud started dancing with excitement on her right toe in the patio of the royal house. It was morinaga, one of traditional dances of Purvakhand based on love story of a peacock and snake. The dancer dances with releasing the full weight of body on toes while performing humanly expressions with movement of hand and eyes.

  Vikrant was smiling with satisfaction. Behind him was Swayambadha, his old loyal guard. By then the soldiers had bring him into conscious. He was standing with his face of long white beard with wide white moustache and deep brown eyes drenched in grief and ashamed. Swayambadha said, ‘My L
ord, This is not good. It will unleash the anger of Emperor Sharak and then the Great Evil Lord Jakrant will come back from the darkness for the second time. A devastating war will begin and this time Kundey will cost high.’

  ‘Whatever may be? Nothing can cost more than happiness of my daughter.’ said Vikrant refuting the words of the old guard. ‘Swayambadha, are you talking against the happiness of my daughter?’

  ‘No, my Lord. I can never,’ said the old guard gingerly. ‘But this is truth. She is just your foster daughter. She is the vicious fruit of our enemy Abhiyudh. Her greed can cost us.’

  Vikrant sniffed angrily, said, ‘Are you gone crooked. It is love not greed and I can see you are going vicious and evil like King Nasur. Get lost from here you bastard or I will slay you down. She is my daughter. I will never do that mistake for the second time.’

  ‘But my Lord, your brother King Nasur has sent the news of Saraswatichandra to Saile,’ warned Swayambadha. ‘Danger is dancing above Kundey. May be annihilation’

  ‘Shut up! When you became coward,’ harangued Vikrant. ‘If Saile we think to annihilate us then she will she her end. I will not succumb down before that evil Sharak anymore. Our savior is live. The son of Vikramchandra has returned. The lost age of happiness, peace and prosperity will return. Once again Purvakhand will be a land of affluence.’

  ‘But my Lord! What if one day she will knew the truth that she is not your daughter?’

  ‘She is my daughter only. I don’t fear any truth. You can go now, Swayambadha.’

  Swayambadha with feared steps sprints out of the royal house with exasperation hidden in darkness of his heart. He had sensed the danger knocking doors of Kundey. Vikrant was busy in glancing the happiness of his foster daughter.

  Saras and Nandkant on their horses were now crossing the city market.

  The radiance on Saras’ face has faded down. He asked, ‘Pita ji, Today you said an untruth. What is the reason behind?’

  ‘No reason. If one untruth can flourish happiness to hundreds of disturbed hearts then it is a form of truth only,’ said Nandkant. ‘You know why I taught you the war skill? Why I send to find out the dwells of Vahuns?’

  ‘Yes, I know. You did all this so you can make me a qualified warrior. So I can fight against Sharak.’

  ‘Right answer, my boy. Do have faith in me?’ asked Nandkant gazing Saras mysteriously.

  ‘Yes, Pita ji. I trust you more than god’, answered Saras firmly.

  ‘That’s good. So go and bring fire woods for kitchen,’ ordered Nandkant and reins his horse ahead.

  Saras pulled the reins and turned his horse for forest to collect fire woods.

  (Somewhere near the Saraswati River, Virnagre)

  The sun was going down. The ordinary sky had already stretched over him, impatient and howling. One more day he had spent in murdering the innocents. He neither need water to calm him down nor did he wish to stretch over soft green grass in a beautiful sunlight. From twenty three years he silently sighed with in his soul and simply look over his pale hands introverting his life and doings. He jabbed himself with hilt of knife in acridity of the scream which he heard when he bite or slew men, women and the worst, he can’t allow himself to be pity with children. He laughed ruefully and stabbed own limb yelling the name he had been given: THE CURSED BLOOD. He knew that he had to go long in sucking blood out of the bodies. He had no hint of pain on his face after that jab and stab as he had no blood in his veins. To say, he is blood of the Vir clan. He is a scion of Vir. He is master of the roar but the truth is that his life had been filled with hatred for those whom he had loved once. And so rather no one called him with these names as only few – selected knows that what and who truly he is. He walked a few steps ahead to a hump of corpses. He sat near it and hold the hand of a dead body and took his knife near his eyes and then moved the corpse’s finger over its sharp blade allowing its flesh to retreat and give out some blood. He gazed his red hands intently and then rubbed them against his beard and screamed. ‘The time has come. The fate will be written soon. Everyone will be avenged. Come on father. You should not hide more. You can’t.’

  ‘THE-CURSED-BLOOD….’

  Prayndiel sighed as he was summoned from behind. He caught the voice. It was not very appreciating for him. It was Saile. The witch he hates most but as a wound to his soul, he was allowed to flay or slay her. He liked to be heard as witch slayer.

  ‘So you hatred lady? Any greed?’ asked Prayndiel holding his calm with in his bloodless heart.

  Saile gulped. ‘The door is broken. And the bow disappeared.’

  ‘I know that where is Ananta Bow. I know that you have failed,’ said Prayndiel and splashed water on his face wiping the blood on his beard. ‘Is it so that you and your king Sharak is going to pay. Never forget that you won that war because of Lord Jakrant and the ostracized human legends.’

  Saile noticed the fury in his white eyes. She blinked her eyes in awe. ‘But I got a news. The man who is responsible for that is a scion of Vir. He had returned,’ gasped Saile timidly. She still had the cruelty but she behaved as she was frightened. She knew that this man would probably slew her if she dared to show superiority. She wasn’t fool enough to push her life in death hole.

  ‘Great….. Great again?’ ranted Prayndiel. ‘You said that he had returned. Had he returned? Really? His is live and from twenty three years he was concealed by Nandkant and Gita. That’s too under shadow of Chandier,’ sniffed Prayndiel and fixed his eyes on the sun going beneath the river end. ‘Isn’t it brilliant?’

  Saile grinned and rolled her eyes showing herself innocent. ‘The hammer isn’t safe anymore. That boy would finish your hard work if he got that hammer and then he may grab the Emperor’s collar and then may be it the turn of Lord Jakrant.’

  ‘Are you trying to frighten me?’

  ‘No. I can never. THE-CURSED-BLOOD.’

  ‘So you want me to get that hammer for your Sharak?’ grunted Prayndiel running his finger over a scar on his upper limb.

  ‘Not for the Emperor but for the Lord,’ answered Saile courteously.

  ‘He is not an Emperor. It may please me if you rather dare to call him a murderer,’ screamed Prayndiel. ‘I had never seen a coward like him. A promise breaker like him.’

  ‘We are working for Lord Jakrant,’ said Saile firmly.

  ‘When?’ asked Prayndiel.

  ‘Tonight. THE-CURSED-BLOOD,’ whispered Saile. ‘Vikrant had betrayed us.’

  ‘I will be there,’ gasped Prayndiel. ‘But I will not kill a single person. I already had taken enough lives today. I will get that hammer with me.’

  A cruel smile crept over Saile’s lips. ‘We are coming Rakshak - THE ONE WHOM FUTURE AWAITS. Soon you will a ruined history.’ Saile turned into a crow and flew to her island of charcoal.

  Prayndiel laughed hardly but loud. ‘The lion has awaken. Hear his roar.’

  After reaching home Nandkant confronts Gita. It was a vegetable vendor from whom she knew that Nandkant has opened the secret and she taunt him for what he had done. She presumed that there was danger waiting next door for Saras and Kumud. And the name of this sure danger is Saile, a legion of Sharak the king of devils, the master of daemons and devils, and the ruler of Chandier and present devil emperor of Purvakhand who has destroyed City of Angabhumi which was capital of Virnagre kingdom of Vikramchandra.

  ‘What had you did?’ screamed Gita.

  ‘I just opened the truth,’ said Nandkant.

  ‘Truth….. My foot,’ sniffed Gita. ‘It is invitation to death and the most nearer one is in Gorkhein.’

  ‘You are just taking tension unnecessarily,’ said Nandkant gently coming near to her.

  By then Saras had entered the house. He was holding a load of thirty, thirty-five logs tied together by his angavastra. He overheard their furious altercations and stopped beside a table, putting the fastened bundle of logs on it, slowly without making any sound, away from the view of old couple. Gita darted to h
er kitchen, took vegetables and sat down cutting vegetables for making dinner. Nandkant followed her. Still unnoticed, Saras trotted out of the house and came near the window of kitchen and crouched to hear and find out the truth his parents were talking. He had never saw Gita in such rage. He knew that they will never talk about it before him.

  (In the dining hall……)

  Gita glared at Nandkant, frowning and cursing. She argued, ‘You have gone senseless. You disclosed the truth. Now my son may face dangerous devils and I have to mourn on his lifeless body. I already had lost Dhwajkant and now just because of your irrational declaration everything will lost. I must say you did something which gives you stand of a jerk. You were a Satyarathi once but now nothing more than a jerk. Saraswatichandra is in a big danger’

  ‘Why don’t you understand that now he is a complete warrior? I know you look after him like a real mother but you know he is not our real son. He was our responsibility which we aimed successfully,’ said Nandkant.

  ‘He is only an archer. His education is not complete,’ said Gita furiously standing up. There are many thing which he need to learn. He does not know the full art of warfare. May he finished your task of founding out the dwell of Vahuns but He is not ready now. He cannot face a big army of Jakrant and you know this.’

  Nandkant turned opposite and replied, ‘Yes, I think you are right. He need to learn. And time is the greatest mentor and he will learn this sweet - harsh truth of life by the passing time’.

  ‘TIME… Oh! Yes. Your time. What does the TIME? Does it saved Virnagre from destruction or it saved your son? Nothing. Time can do nothing expect being still and watching all that happens. And you must remember it will be the same time you are talking about which will lead Saras to a painful life of war. Why don’t you understand twenty three years? We have kept him away of danger and you being an old crank send him to find and dwell out the Vahuns of the Angara forest. The first danger he faced. I was silence then and now you disclosed his identity as heir to the empty throne. What if Sharak will know about him? How will you save him? We are alone,’ she said to Nandkant again rising her voice aloud.