Throne of Purvakhand

by ASHUTOSH RAI

  ‘As you wish.’ Saras smiles and shoots two arrows gouging both eyes of Varesh granting him final sleep. Two men run towards Saras from his left. Both were collinear. Without losing time Saras shot them dead with single arrow, clearing the first one fine and then entering in heart of second man. And then killing two more on his right by firing two sharp arrows. Saras rushed forward, left his bow and held the blade of sword of the aggressor and jabbed him with elbow. He sliced the blade of sword the neck of the aggressor and then killed three more men one by one respectively in an arc. An attacker holding sword screamed from back and it was his biggest flaw. Saras smiled and waited till the man comes in reach. Without moving Saras held the head of attacker and locked it in his arms against his back and then hurled the sword in head. He clutched throat of another man who attacked from his right, breaking it by thrusting his head on ground of the stone podium. He took his bow to finish the bloodshed early, slaying the rest seven wicked men. He covered the body of girl with blanket. Everyone was seeing his face, eerily but he didn’t cast a single look on them and neither had he said a single word to them. People followed him to his room but he slammed the door on their faces. After twenty three years they saw a hope. May be a hero. The boy was happy seeing his sister safe. He laid the girl on the bed and turned to her brother. ‘Your sister will be fine. Now she is frightened but in next hour she will feel relaxed. You both can stay here, tonight.’

  Early in the next morning, the girl was recovered from her insensibility. She and her brother came out of the room. They took bath and got fresh dresses on their bodies. Saras was too getting ready to continue his journey to Uttarmathons. The boy and his sister came to him. They had two closed pot in their hands.

  Saras smiled as bent on his knees and asked the boy. ‘What is this?’

  ‘This is a gift for you. Our Savings. It will help you in your journey to Uttarmathons. We heard you murmuring yesterday night. You thought that we were sleeping but we had just lid our eyes closed. We both collected this so, may one day we have a visit Sumath University. I heard it is in Uttarmathons and even today some teacher teaches there.’ Both brother and sister smiled simply with sweet gaze at the face of the young man.

  Saras too smiles and said, ‘You both remembered me of my brother and sister whom I never had. I had always wished of a brother or sister. Keep this with you for your study. One day you will need it. I promise one day you both will learn in Sumath University. I have sufficient income here.’ Saras asked the boy, ‘Well, Do you want to go Sumath University today?’

  The boy said humbly, ‘We would love to go but we had no one who can pay our fees. And remember I am a smart boy so I must inform you that to learn in Sumath University. We must visit Uttarmathons but till the demon king Sharak is alive. No one can reach there.’

  Saras smiles once again. ‘Oh! I will take care of this. I will slew Sharak away. Then it’s fine.’

  ‘But how?’ asked the boy timidly voice shaking his hand.

  Saras answered, ‘Because I am Saraswatichandra and I must do this for you.’

  Both have their mouth opened in surprise. ‘The living Prince of Virnagre’, mumbled the girl with eyes grown big. Both the brothers and sister had a wider smile than before.

  ‘Do you know the way to Sumath?’

  ‘Yes, my didi knows.’

  ‘It is in west…’ replied the girl. ‘I know the route.’

  Saras nodded and smiles for the fourth time. He arranged a horse for them and send them for Sumath.

  ‘Take care. One day I will visit Sumath seeking both of you,’ said Saras loudly.

  ‘We will wait for that day,’ bellowed both brother and sister.

  Saras bellowed back. ‘I forgot your name.’

  ‘Sunder and Naina…..’

  Saras had earned a sufficient income, both in his pocket and his heart. He climbed on his horse, and rein him toward the north of the icy mountains of Uttarmathons.

  It has been a long tour of eighteen days. The earth had changed its face and the sky had been wrapped in dark blue carpet of night. Kumud with the Satyarathis was on the gate of outer fort of Kallirathya, the capital of Kapikshetra. It was bigger than Vatvriksh. Avneish amazed that the outer fort was without any guard.

  ‘It is Kapikshetra. So irresponsible.’ He spat with irritation. He could not believe what he saw.

  ‘Wear you diadem and then bang that iron chain that hangs of the small door of the gate,’ yelled Dravid. Avneish had the diadem on his head after ten years. The diadem had no sign of affluence in it and this was the reason that Avneish had never had it on his head. He sped to the door and banged the iron chain on it hardly. The sound deafened his ears for few liptas.

  An old gatekeeper comes, opened the small window that was just above the small door of the big gate. He took his head out to look the man who had knocked the enormous gate of the fort. He glared at Avneish who was ahead of all. He had worn a brown diadem made up of wood of scared peepal, engraved a hammer axe.

  The Gatekeeper identified that he is a prince. He did his duty by enquiring. ‘Who are you Rikkshar-man and why you have come with such a large army under the blue flag of Redra Pradesh.’

  ‘Rikkshar-man?’ Avneish was about nineteen at the age with incorrigible anger and proud. He didn’t liked the way the Vanara gatekeeper called him. In fact he hate every Vanara. He roared, ‘The Price of Redra don’t answer….’ He stopped himself and then again continued, ‘Actually I never answer any gatekeeper, go and bring someone who is eligible from your Vanara race to have a talk with me.’

  The old Vanara gatekeeper replied, ‘This is motherland of apes and we respect our guest. So as far as the power of your brain is concerned who can have a talk with a Bear man who even don’t have the manners to respect others?’

  Avneish smiled arrogantly and added his awful words. ‘Manners. My foot. I know what Vanara are? Vanara are the greatest of the cowards! Go and call your Abhiyudh.’

  The Gatekeeper opened the gate and came out with a mace in right hand and his left fist clenched, barked at Avneish. ‘Behave! He is our king’

  Avneish dragged his sword out for the duel on gate. Dravid beats his own head thrice. ‘This stupid boy. I had thought that he had learned to conceal his hatred.’

  Mahmud comes down from chariot, forward to stop the duel in between two. ‘Hey,.. Hey ! stop here. No bloodshed. Perhaps we should step back for a second and think about solving this problem a different way.’ He took sword out from hand of Avneish, throwing it carefully on ground signalled Avneish to stop and be silent.

  Growing a fake smile with calmness in words, Dravid said, ‘Sorry for the misbehave. It is common for the warm blooded youth. He is now just a kid. I think you remember me. I am a Satyarathi Warrior. I order you to open the gate.’

  The gatekeeper was not happy. The words of Dravid could not silence the anger bursting in him. He shrinks his eyes with rage.

  ‘O yes. I do remember? Mr Dravid and Mr Mahmud. I know who you are. But the gates of Kapikshetra are closed for the cowards’ argued the gatekeeper and closed the gates of the fort. He bellowed from behind the gate. ‘No Virnagre. No Satyarathi.’

  Mahmud screamed, ‘Don’t be foolish. Hear my word. I am here with good news. And with very bad one too. Both are about Gita, the sister of Vanara King.’

  The gateman was stunted hearing the name. He ran to his head officer, commander Vallabh, a good looking and strong man. The gate keeper narrated him the message in the words of Mahmud and Vallabh with the same word went to Vanara king Abhiyudh. He walked through the road constructed about twenty thousand years ago by his mighty ancestors. He sprinted to the palace and walks in the royal assembly hall designed in foliage. The solider on gate bowed down as he enter in the hall. The king was on his throne, like always busy in alcohol. Six more soldier were standing in a straight line, their body steadied and their eyes staring the opposite wall which was festooned with bright yellow banner that had a face of an ape drawn on i
t. By left the ape appeared to be smiling and from left he appeared ready to bite the observer.

  ‘Bad news. Bad news. Very bad news,’ cried Vallabh, bowing his head reverently.

  ‘Which bad news?’ Abhiyudh asked gulping the last drop alcohol from his bronze glass.

  ‘A Bad news about Lady Gita’, Vallabh answered bowing head down.

  ‘Gita!’ said a flummoxed Abhiyudh. He rolled his eyes staring Vallabh. He could not believe that he heard the name. ‘What…?’

  ‘King Dravid and Mahmud are on the gate with a large army. They said they has a bad and a good news about Lady Gita and they want to check in.’ said Vallabh.

  ‘Are you dumb? Open the gates and take them here, Vallabh. Now’, cried a visibly uncomfortable Abhiyudh.

  Vallabh dashed to the outer gate and ordered the gatekeeper to open the gate. He welcomed them into the palace and walked off to his office chamber.

  Mahmud at the left, Dravid at the right and Kumud and Avneish were between them entered the royal assembly hall where king Abhiyudh on his throne which was at about ten hast of height from the ground.

  Abhiyudh asked, ‘What type of bad news do you have. Where is my sister? And which type of news from your mouth can be a good one for Kapikshetra.’

  Mahmud argued, ‘Your words always pins like poisonous arrows. You always treat us cavalierly. I don’t know how your people hear you and why Nandkant do has deep faith in an arrogant Vanara like you.’

  Glaring at Mahmud, Abhiyudh step down the stairs slowly and roared, ‘What did you say? An arrogant Vanara! Come forward I will show you what an arrogant Vanara can do? Where is Gita?’ He whirled around the four and asked coldly, ‘Where is Nandkant? And where is the man whom future awaits. They didn’t came with you.’

  As Abhiyudh completed, the room was filled with silence. Everyone was hesitating to speak about the incident of Gorkhein. They were not sure about Abhiyudh that whether he asked about Gita or he was more concerned about THE-MAN-WHOM-FUTURE-AWAITS. Dravid maintained his pious face but Mahmud and Avneish sighed. For them it was hard to let their faith on the man whom they had come to ask help.

  It was Kumud who dared to interrupt the silence. ‘Sorry! Vanararaj, literally Vanara King. I ask your forgiveness for coming between you two learned old gentlemen.’ Her sweet voice broke the silence. ‘I don’t know how I should say this but my mother in law, Gurumata Gita, is no more. She breathed her last saving me eighteen days before. I am in her debt. She was a kind lady. A good teacher and one of the best mother I saw ever. She brought and grown up my husband Saraswatichandra, who is the heir of Virnagre. She may feel pain even in heaven when she would see you both are quarrelling as kids. She dreamed of a black flag free Purvakhand. Not of quarrel between Satyarathi.’ Her eyes moist in calmness.

  Abhiyudh kneel with a blasting sound. His crown that had structures jutted out like monkey’s tail, fell down, sounding its iron and rolling to Kumud’s feet. He started wailing on his sister’s death.

  Mahmud mumbled to Avneish. ‘This cry is fake. I know him very well. He is playing his card. Have a look at his beard. They say everything. When they shiver then you should understand that he is planning something. It can be pleasing. It can be dreadful.’

  Avneish stared Abhiyudh and mumbled, ‘I know. The History reminds me always.’

  A worrying Kumud stared Abhiyudh with sympathy. She herself was unknown to the source of the reverent emotion that made its dwell in her. Her voice had a different calmness. ‘I will not say that you should not cry but you should take care. She may had never liked seeing you crying this way.’

  A strange care brought her hands nearer to the dampen eyes of Abhiyudh. She slid her right thumb over his tears but Abhiyudh stops her signalling by holding his hand still as his eyes caught the black band tied on her left wrist. He stared it in a suspecting manner like he knew that who she was?

  He asked Kumud with an assuring depth in his voice. ‘Your voice heard me familiar. Who are you?’

  Kumud bowed her head and answered, ‘O king of Vanaras. You are of my father’s age. I am Kumud daughter of General Vikrant who was brutally murdered by Saile in front of me in the same way she did to my mother in law by a spell.’

  ‘Which spell……?’

  ‘I remember only last word which was something spelled like quakjajaru’, said Kumud in slight tremble. The thought of the spell that killed Gita had seized her heart for a moment.

  Abhiyudh was stunned and his soul was trembling. He glanced Kumud cryptically. With a sudden pause in his cry, he came near to Kumud fading his face in sorrow. ‘Gita is no more. I could even not see her face. Twenty three years. And yes, you spoke a truth. I am your father’s age. I am your father. Your real father. Destiny is truly cruel. With one hand it gives you something and with other it takes something back.’

  And this was a shocking twist for the four. The Satyarathi, who knew every secret of each other, were unknown to this fact. A Satyarathi never speak untruth and neither has he hid his secrets from his co-Satyarathi. They all were easily irritated with Abhiyudh because of the way he round around Kumud and stare her in a quite unexplainable way.

  Mahmud opened his mouth in amazement. He calculated the words that he should play. ‘Whatever you may be but now I think you will leave all the personal rivalry and help us in planning and executing a revolt with Saraswatichandra against the black flag and its rule. I think you will agree with this call of hour.’

  Abhiyudh smiled, ‘Yes. I agree. I am a Satyarathi. This group is incomplete without me like you are incomplete without your - this goat like beard.’

  ‘I always take care of my beard,’ said Mahmud flatly with grin as he moved his fingers over his beard.

  Abhiyudh nodded his head and clapped thrice. A maid comes in right to Abhiyudh, bowing down her head. Abhiyudh ordered the maid, ‘Take Kumud to her room which has been closed form past twenty-years.’

  ‘This way, Princess,’ said the maid meekly, still bowing her head.

  Kumud stared Abhiyudh standing steadied and stunned as the maids bowed courteously before her like she was truly their princess. She winced as the maid hold her left hand. It was very uneasy for Kumud. Even in Vatvriksh, she was never touched by any maid in so reverent manner. For her, she was no more a royal girl neither a princess. At least not a princess of Kapikshetra. Her face fainted motionless.

  Abhiyudh could read the disapproval from Kumud’s questioning face. He smiled and said, ‘Kumud, you may have your questions but I will answer all of them after two hours at dinner as today’s night is going to long.

  Saile was unconscious in Carmuel. She was being take cared by doctors in palace of Sharak. Black as it was always from twenty centuries. She recovered in next hour and without waiting, she rushed to assembly hall of royal court to inform Sharak about the return of prince of Virnagre. The walls were in square with bid moustache chiselled on it. She crossed four corridors and three black stone staircases up to the fourth floor. She pushed the great door and enter in the great hall. She rested herself on knees, breathing in a distressed quick manner. She stared the floor beneath that appeared to burn. Her face was dried with fear. She whispered, ‘He is alive and as brave and majestic as his father. People says him Saraswatichandra, the second son of Vikramchandra.’ She was shivering. The guard at the door comes to her and helped her to stand. She turned to the solider who had helped her. ‘Bring me a glass of water.’ The soldier nodded and she continued. ‘Two things are more disturbing. Three Satyarathi were there. They together attack on us. They killed all my Cauvcrach.’ She stopped staring the man who was sitting on a throne that was a replica of the original Throne of Purvakhand. By now the soldier had brought water for her commander. She stared into his green eyes that were shrunken in his pale dark grotesque face. ‘You touched me. You should die.’ The soldier nodded. He gave the water glass and drew a small knife and presented it before Saile. For him it was an honour. His friend looked at him, startled. With a satisfac
tory smile, Saile took the water glass in her left hand and grabbed the knife in her other hand and hurled in centre of the soldier’s throat and twisted it thrice. She drunk water and started once again as the soldier’s dead body fell without complaining. ‘That girl from Vatvriksh. For the first time my black magic failed. The spells of quakjajaru doesn't work on her. She was remain unhurt and alive. I can’t face her. She has a secret power. I power that I am not aware.’

  ‘Which girl?’ Sharak asked as he heaved his long, twisted face into light. The scars on his face gleamed as light reflected on them. He rolled his black eyes. ‘Why quakjajaru couldn’t harm her and made you fear? How is it possible?’ It was a matter of concern for Sharak. Quakjajaru was a magical curse that never failed before except when it was applied on Elcleis. Elcleis escaped because he knew the spell that can nullify the curse of quakjajaru.

  Saile continued, shivering. ‘She is bride of Saraswatichandra. Kumud, daughter of Vikrant, the general of Vatvriksh.’

  Hearing this Sharak stared at Saile angrily. He clenched his right fist hard on handle of his throne. A black band tied around his wrist opens and fall down. Suddenly as the band striped down, the distorted face which was fair as young turned wrinkled pale with enormous blackheads near eyes. His body shivered with an unknown mystery and frequently his hand move over his heart which had been shaken internally, causing a heart pain. His head gets down and eyes get red with the blood coming outside, slowly. The scene created a babel in the courtiers.

  ‘My Lord...’ screamed Saile.

  Everyone can sense of the unseen trouble knocking at door. It seems that Sharak was about to die. He started crying as his body broke into an unbearable pain and afterward his mouth starts to bleed and his body get weak and all bones started appearing. These all were symptoms of the evil quakjajaru mantra. The hall was filled with a question: ‘Quakjajaru? But who had applied it on Emperor Sharak?’