Throne of Purvakhand

by ASHUTOSH RAI

  Kumud felt the trembling of her legs. She fell on ground stunned. It was time to clear all the misunderstanding.

  Tears once again made their way through her cheeks. Her voice was filled with grief. It was hard to believe and Abhiyudh succeed in winning her faith. ‘Sorry, I distrust you. I don’t believed you before. I have been rude to you, Pita ji. Punish me, indeed exile me for my insolence behaviour.’ She looked at Abhiyudh. Her eyes were mixed with pity and respect. She was astounded with the truth that came before her abruptly. She shook her head in sorrow.

  Abhiyudh with a smile of forgiveness took his strong hands to her shoulders making her stand straight. He dabbed her tears and said, ‘Never remorse. You do not need to apologize. I too may had misjudge you, if I were at your place. I am alive today to bless my lovely daughter and not to be angry with. Tomorrow when your brother will be out of his lab. You have to meet your younger brother. After three weeks we will celebrate his engagement with Preeti, the daughter of Mandhir, the king of Naggrah. And all the arrangement will be in accordance to your wish. So take rest and pray the god so your husband return safe and early. He is now our only hope. Only he can lead us. There are many things that I will talk you later.’

  Abhiyudh comes back to dining room where Mahmud and Dravid were waiting eagerly for the outcome. Avneish had already gone to his room. Abhiyudh nodded his head and a spark of happiness rose in room. The three embraced each other warmly and then walked to their rooms for sleep. Meanwhile in Gorkhein, Nandkant was tired, hungry and thirsty. He was waiting for the witch to come. So he may get his revenge. He knew that it was stupidity to face Saile alone. He had maintained his breath for these long days by yoga.

  The sun has risen over his head. For Saras it was not an easy to find Elcleis alone in the great range of Uttarmathons. He stared the sky with obscurity. The wind was from the north, icy and slow. The sky had combed itself with fair clouds. They were not dark and the sand behaved like nails. He bent low to lift his bow. He shrugged and then started for River Shanti to bath. After taking the bath when he swam out for the bank and turned to gaze at other end of the enormous river, he saw an old white man with a strange stick that had a conical head like a spear, was going to a den on the other side of river.

  ‘He is white man,’ mumbled Saras as he passed his hands over his white angavastra. ‘An old white man with white long beard hanging to his lower chest. He should be the man I am searching for.’ Wiping his drenched body he bellowed. ‘Elcleis. Elcleis…… Hey Elcleis! Hear me. Move back and see.’

  The breath of the river made his voice inaudible. The old man on the other side could not hear him and went back to his den that was on a higher platform. Saras picked his bow and quiver and ran to his horse. Rein him towards the den but the horse was not capable to cross the river. The horse neighs with disapproval and returned back from the bank, sensing the depth and breadth of the river streaming. He made his horse free from his rein. Now he needs a boat and a boatman. He should leave the place before any man of black flag comes searching him.

  After a struggle of an hour, Saras found a boatman. The boatman said his name Jigar and demanded two swarn-mudrae, literally two gold coins. Saras smiled blankly and paid him two gold coins. Jigar was about thirty, short and bony.

  Ready to ferry, Jigar stared at Saras and asked, ‘You do not look like the people of Santagraj. Your clothes are neither torn nor dirty. From where are you?

  Saras exclaim feigning that he don’t know the name, ‘Santagraj, where is it? And my clothes are dirty. Look at them, clearly.’

  Jigar stared him once more, quite pretending serious and nodded. ‘Yes, these are dirty but not like us. How many pair of clothes do you have?’

  ‘I have fair new pair of dhoti,’ said Saras proudly. ‘I am not even so poor.’

  ‘I saw you coming from Santagraj?’ asked Jigar as the boat rowed ahead.

  ‘Santagraj?’ said Saras drawing an innocence face. ‘Where is it?’

  ‘The only city just before the riverside, yet it is at distance of half yojana from the river bank. Your dress represent you a Brahman but your body shape and this bow. It is a complex of a learned man and a warrior.’ Shrinking his eyes to the advancing riverside and paddling the boat, he asked, ‘Are you the same man who saved that girl of Santagraj from being disrobed.’

  Saras frowned. The boatman had quickly touched his nerves through his question. Replacing the hesitation on face with a friendly nod, Saras said, ‘Yes, I am a Brahman. I saved her.’ Changing the subject in a sharp and clever way, he asked, ‘But what this smell is? Very bad like any bag full of rotten fruits and vegetables.’

  Jigar scrunched his nose and replied, ‘OH! Yesterday I had sailed fishes for a four armed heavy faced Mleccha. Here an old white wizard live and that heavy man is his companion. I had heard that he is guarding a very precious thing.’

  Jigar had a poor, ugly face and scarcely had a single on his face except his long but thin eyebrows. He had a clever brain that had helped him many times from giving taxes to the officers of black flag. He recognized that Saras had changed the subject of the talk. He concerned his eyes again of Saras and nodded. Insisting Saras, he yelled, ‘Only I am answering. You seem to be very silent man.’ He brought a miserable glint in his eyes that had been shadowed by his eye brows, making his face scrawnier. From where are you and for which work do you came here, a lonely place which has nothing to do with rest of world.’

  ‘I am from Kundey,’ said Saras firmly. ‘I am going to Mount Karil to pray in ancient Shiva Temple.’

  ‘Are you the same man? Are you the same Saraswatichandra? If it is so, then please take me to the truth.’

  ‘No, I am not that Saraswatichandra. I am a different one. Many people share the same name.’

  ‘Do you know from where should I start for Karil?’ Saras asked glancing the sun shining over him.

  Jigar gave a mysterious smile. ‘I heard that from centuries the door of the temple of Karil is closed. Karil is the highest peak in the world and there life is too hazardous. Any time a heavy icefall or by the gods’ wish if any rock misplaced. You will surely die. It is very high. Height of about eleven yojana from the sea level. There are most chances to lose your life and rare chances to return alive. If you can dare to go then I suggest to meet the wizard living in that den. He is there from about twenty three years.’

  Hearing the word wizard from Jigar, marked his confidence to peak. Saras smiled arching his lips low.

  ‘Why Wizard. Is it so necessary?

  Jigar said, ‘Yes, because only he know the path to Karil and after him only two people can answer about Karil and they are Lord Shiva and the great hero Anantvir, whom you can never meet. One is Creator, the God of gods while other one is a fictional man about whom very less is known.’

  Saras asked, ‘Ok! So do you know anything about wizard or about Anantvir? Are you too a fan of the stories of Ashtputras and Rakshak.’

  ‘Every human is their fan. Their adventures had inspired many great people. They were not any incarnation. They were too human. Common human like us and they made their own way. My grandmother use to narrate us the story of Anantvir. Anantvir was the noblest and bravest of all being ever born whom the destiny misleads to death by the hands of gods because he went against them. And you know well that we can’t challenge the Devas {gods} as they give us everything to live. They are almighty. But see now what is happening. Time is playing a new story. Jakrant is a man whom even the gods fear,’ said Jigar. His eyes winced when he took the name of evil lord. ‘I never visited any temple. I had heard that gods had stopped appearing and granting blessings. The time of our earth has complete. We are live to die in great flood. The fall is coming. The pralay will come.’

  ‘Yes’, said Saras. ‘I know. This is true. I had read the Kaal Vyavahara, the ancient text on time. I too want to make my way. I want to climb Karil. At least before the pralay. But what about wizard? How can I find him? Which den does he live?’

/>   A nervousness marked on Jigar’s face. He hesitated to speak. Saras realised that he had succeed in penetrating Jigar and soon he will speak about Elcleis. Jigar pointed him to the den. ‘Do you see that den? Right after that mountain, there he lives there. I don’t know his name. Even no one knows. We just call him Wizard of degree three. We only go there when we are ill and we need a doctor. We live in a small village right at distance of one gavyuti from the wizard’s den. The wizard don’t like to celebrate his name. So we neither ask his name nor say anyone about him, even not to the people of the city. The people of city do not need him. They are selfish and evil. So we never discussed them about wizard. They don’t know about him. They come here only for fish. I don’t know how my instinct allowed me to blabber about the wizard. I had broken a promise that my father and elder had done. When we are in trouble, we approach him and pay him as we like. He never demands anything. I paid him with two heavy basket full of fishes because he saved my child’s life.’

  ‘Please, don’t say my name to the wizard. I don’t want to anger him. Remember, I helped you because my heart said that you are special. Take care,’ said a concerned Jigar with a glittered smile, dragging the boat to the river bank.

  Saras with a small bye to Jigar, started towards the Den of Wizard. It took him more one hour to reach the mouth of the Den. Like many den it looked small from outside and was much wider inside, capable of having a ten or probably more than ten houses of the size of the house that Saras had in Kundey.

  Saras stared the mouth of Den in a surprising fear. The wind that passes through it had a weirdness and the stone appeared to be charmed. ‘Elcleis! Elcleis! Hello! Anyone there. Elcleis…,’ called out Saras loudly.

  And a blue ray gleamed from inside the Den and binds his body tight taking him near the wizard. He fell on the rocky ground of Den as the blue light disappeared. Surprisingly there was no darkness inside and many things sparkling like stars of different color, unknown to Saras were flying randomly above his head. Saras hardly saved his head from a big rock that rapidly flew over his head.

  Taking support from the staff, the wizard Elcleis arose to his feet and boasted like a tiger, ‘Yes, young man I am Elcleis, the greatest of Viromans, the strongest of Satyarathis and one of the three remaining wise wizards in the world. But how do you know my name. From where are you?’

  Saras said, ‘I think it will be fine if I say I am Saraswatichandra.’

  Elcleis shaping the angle of his lips to that of a juggler, said, ‘Do you thought me a mad old man. I can stop your breath in my one clap and then I will feed him your fresh young flesh to Chatuskara. I love truth and unfaithful words from a liar like you are nothing but an abuse for me. I hate the people who lie and I hate those people too who try hide the truth by not saying it clearly.’

  Saras stood startled. The wizard’s voice had sensation of truth mixed with rage and uncertain happiness. They way wizard stared Saras, had barely scared Saras. ‘I am not a liar. I too hate liar,’ said Saras staring back into eyes of wizard.

  Elcleis laughed weirdly, ‘OH! Do really? Quite in the same way, you said Jigar that you are going to Mount Karil. Don’t it was a lie. Who are you?’ Elcleis put the point of his spear on Saraswatichandra’ neck.

  Saras exclaimed, ‘How do you know that I spoke untruth to him?’

  ‘Brave? You dare to question me instead answering.’ Elcleis then flew him in air for a moment and then threw him on ground heartlessly with a splashing sound, breaking his bone nearly. He said, ‘I am first a Satyarathi, then a wizard and this is my Den. That river is my spy. Again if you questioned me without answering my questions then surely you will die. And for the sake of magic I will send you to heaven. Answer my question first. Who are you?’

  ‘I know my father made you King of Kanch and you flew away taking his sword, the Virum Blade and you came here hiding your identity.’

  Elcleis shocked when he heard of sword gazed the head of Saras. Coming near to Saras he asked, ‘How do you know that I took the sword. Who told you?’

  Saras breathed hard and said, ‘Satyarathi Nandkant and Arkja Gita told me this. They grew me up as their own child. Don’t you think that you could have finished Jakrant by the Virum Blade?’

  Elcleis said, ‘How can I believe this and for your knowledge I took sword away so that Jakrant may never get it and use its power for raising his terrorism.’

  Saras was still breathing hard. ‘I believe you but how I can prove my identity so I could win your faith’

  Elcleis watched him and said, ‘Yeah! This is the right question. And answer is very simple. You have to go to north, about hundred padas from here and then, there you will find a den same like that of me but after entering in it you will see another world. A world created by me. A big lake, green sky and a mountain of stony weapons. In between the lake and mountain you will see many wooden swords of different length are placed vertically hanging in air. A four armed man named Chatuskara guards those swords. In those swords, there is a wooden sword which is about quarter of your hand’s length. To take that sword you have to defeat Chatuskara. To prove yourself, take that wooden sword to me. This is your mission. Prove yourself. Accomplish it. Only a scion of Vir can defeat him.’

  Saras bent down on his knees and touched the wizard’s feet giving him respect. It whispered a silent effect on heart of Elcleis. Saras was about to rush toward Chatuskara but Elcleis stopped him and said, ‘Wait!’ Saras turned around. Elcleis shrank his eyes under his old white eye brows, gazing continuously at Saras. ‘You have manners like Gita had. But this is not the proof. At least if you have to prove yourself. The bow you had in your hands can never get a win for you. I know you are facing trouble in breathing. I will cure it now. I don’t know who are you? You said that Nandkant and Gita fostered you. To prove that you are son of Vikramchandra, you should defeat Chatuskara. He is humble man till no one try to awake him. Only a Virvansi can defeat him.’

  Elcleis rounds his stick over Saras, spelling a magic. Saras starts feeling better and his heart was breathing mannerly. Elcleis smiled and continued, ‘I can’t cure you every time. Spelling the magic consumes energy from soul of magician. I hope you are now feeling well. I can see that you are a bow man. The duel will be deadly if you failed. The mark of firing arrows on your finger are proving your archery skills but only a man expert in three skills of war art can overcome Chatuskara. I know the art of spear, sword and mace and many more weapons. I will teach you how to use them so that you fight Chatuskara and even if you were defeated, the world will not feel sorry for your death. Remember you have to defeat Chatuskara. Only defeat, not to kill.’

  Saras said, ‘I don’t know about mace-fighting but I learned the art of sword. Recently I killed so many Cauvcrachs that I can’t count them.’

  Elcleis amused, ‘Really. How much? About a thousand?’

  Saras has no answer. He bowed his head in shame. He was before a Satyarathi and he remembered a teaching of Gita: ‘There are always things to learn.’

  Elcleis said, ‘Show me, what you know or how will you fight?’

  Saras showed him how he handles the sword but it disappointed Elcleis.

  Elcleis remarked him. ‘Worst for a warrior. You may have faced the novice Cauvcrachs and so today you are alive. You don’t have any body language and there is no balance at all. Remember this is not a knife. You have to give your soul to it. It is a sword. It can make your opponent to rest in pieces and if not handled carefully, the pieces will be yours.’

  ‘Try one more time. Come!’ said Elcleis firmly, encouraging Saras.

  The night had a chilling cold breeze and Chandier was in murmurs. Murmurs of the return of THE-MAN-WHOM-FUTURE-AWAITS. There was not a single Danava in the kingdom whose heart was silence. Fear had grabbed their recesses and their heart were pounding desperately. Sharak had called an immediate meeting with all his dark commanders, legions and rangers. They all took their seats and the discussion ran in that cold dark room, which was bri
ghtened a little by the flaming floor which look to be like a burning be of fire and like a miracle no one in the hall was getting harmed. It was just an illusion of magic. The walls were looking alike livid sea and pillars were like timber of spooky Kurtkas trees supporting railing of the ship that was sailing in ocean of fire.

  Sharak cuddled on his throne which was a black replica of throne of Purvakhand that had been made in moonlight night by Sail from shadow of the real throne that was in Virnagre. Saile, Alihar, Rubbak, Jobark, Ketushutra, and many other including Dhwajkant, the chief of human race in Sharak’s army sat on their respective chairs. The two hour long discussion between the seventy officials was not getting its final point.

  Dhwajkant stand with a smile, bowing head to Sharak. ‘It is alarm of the forecast made by the Raj Gurumata of Virnagre. I think we must first try to avoid the war. A peace pact will be nice option’, said Dhwajkant addressing the assembly courteously.

  ‘You mean to compromise and give him the throne back and forget the death of Daetyachur’, Saile commented, abetting Sharak against the head of human race of his own army.

  Dhwajkant replied ‘No, I never say that. I mean we are powerful and we can ask them to not fire any revolt against us. Kapikshetra and Naggrah had maintained the silence for years. They will not blaze the spark and if they did, then….’

  Before Dhwajkant could finish his talk, Ketushutra said, ‘Are you foolish! You mean that go unarmed before a hungry lion and ask him to eat fruits of mango. Does it not seems absurd? I think you have fully planned to dishonour and make us to feel sorry before the Lord Jakrant. Never forget that you are live today because Lord Jakrant shown mercy to you. We will finish that boy in battlefield.’