8
‘BY VARUNA AND INDRA, I DON’T KNOW!’ DHARMA SHOUTED. ‘I need more time!’
Panchali watched him, unperturbed. If there was one thing she had learnt over the years it was that Dharma was incapable of true wrath. What he passed off as anger was nothing but anxiety. Whether she was glad that her husband was, on the whole, excessively inclined to towards harmony was something she had not quite decided.
Sadev looked a lot less comfortable than Panchali, especially since he was in the unenviable position of having to respond to his brother. ‘We don’t have more time, Agraja,’ he urged. ‘The rider has been spotted. It takes but a short while from the main gate to the palace and a little while more to dismount and present oneself here. Unless, the rider stops to refresh himself …’
‘Which isn’t likely,’ Dhaumya tersely pointed out. ‘Syoddhan’s going to want an explanation. He’s sent one man and not a delegation, and that person is neither a fool nor a dandy courtier.’
‘Who do you think he’s sent?’ Dharma stopped his anxious pacing, to ask.
‘I’d have guessed Sanjaya, except …’
‘Hmm?’
‘I don’t know,’ Dhaumya suddenly confessed. ‘It’s been nearly a month since Govinda and the armies left here. We have no news as yet from the east, but Shikandin sends word that the garrison at Mathura has been put on high alert. Jarasandha is upto something but whether that’s just a result of our troop movements, or … But I do know we need to be ready with our answers.’
‘What answers, Dhaumya? What in Yama’s bloody name am I supposed to tell Syoddhan and my uncle? That I decided to march my armies against my lawful Emperor? Or that I’ve sent an assassin? Or that Bhim and Govinda have disappeared, and that I have absolutely no clue what they’re up to? What in Rudra’s name can I possibly tell him?’
‘The truth …’ Panchali stated.
‘What?’
‘She’s right,’ Sadev said, frowning as he thought the matter over. ‘We have to tell the truth. Don’t you see, we really don’t know what’s going on. That’s all we can say.’
Dharma stared at him, at a loss for words, or perhaps at a surfeit of ones he deemed inappropriate for use in front of a lady. The inelegant silence continued, till at last an attendant appeared at the door. Dhaumya stepped up to hear what the man had to say and then turned to the others. ‘Asvattama Bharadvaja.’
Panchali looked up in surprise. ‘Syoddhan’s sent Asvattama? That’s good, isn’t it?’
‘It is,’ Sadev affirmed. ‘It means our cousin is asking for answers, not making threats.’ He turned to Dharma, ‘We should see him right away, Agraja. It wouldn’t do to keep a man of Asvattama’s position waiting.’
‘And what position is that, Sadev?’ Dharma snapped, before adding, in a resigned tone, ‘Show him in, Dhaumya.’
Dhaumya stepped out. A short while later, the sounds of light conversation came floating back towards the room as Dhaumya led Asvattama in, asking in the meantime about his journey and whether he would like something to eat or drink.
‘Welcome, Asvattama,’ Dharma managed to greet their guest with the proper degree of enthusiasm.
‘Thank you. Sadev, Panchali, hope you’re both well?’
Panchali noticed he was wearing his customary jewel on his forehead, as he did on all formal occasions. ‘As well as can be under the circumstances, Your Highness,’ she replied, knowing full well how her use of the title amused the usually sombre Asvattama.
Indeed, he chuckled softly and said, ‘And what circumstances might those be, I wonder.’
‘The ones you’re here to talk about. Won’t you please sit? Some wine?’
‘Thank you.’ Asvattama settled himself into the comfortable seat and said, ‘In that case, let me get straight to the point. Have you declared open war against Emperor Jarasandha?’
Dharma frowned at the question, while Panchali and Sadev exchanged a brief but meaningful glance. It was all Panchali could do not to smile as she said, ‘Is that a question for your friends or for the king of Western Kuru?’
Asvattama’s chuckle changed to an uncharacteristic grin, one that surprised Sadev and Dhaumya, as much as it did Dharma. ‘I ask, if you permit, as a friend.’
‘In that case, the answer is: No.’
‘And if I were to ask the king of Western Kuru?’
‘Then you’d be making a serious mistake, questioning the lord of this land in his own audience chambers. And the answer would still be: No.’
‘And the movement of your troops, as well as your brother’s men and the Narayaniya forces towards Magadha? I suppose they’re all coincidences?’
Panchali was categorical. ‘We won’t pretend it’s mere coincidence. But this much I swear to you: when those troops left here, they had no intention whatsoever of attacking Magadha. In fact, they had no intention of even crossing the border. That is the solemn word of King Dharma Yudhisthir.’
Dharma allowed himself the slightest sigh of relief. Panchali was right. When the troops had set out from Indr-prastha there had been no talk of mounting an attack on Magadha. They had just been sent to be a decoy for the assassin. As for the man’s whereabouts, Dharma truly had no idea. Govinda had, he remembered with mild chagrin, insisted that it be so.
Asvattama studied Dharma, then Panchali, before turning his attention back to the former. ‘And if the Emperor were to consider this a hostile act on your part? You do realize that it would place your kinsmen and your friends, me included, in a difficult position?’
It was Sadev who replied, ‘With all due respect, it’s not for us to speculate what the Emperor might or might not think, is it? We must each do our sovereign duties, as we’re sworn to.’
‘And what does duty demand of King Dharma?’
‘That he protect his realm from invasion. If Jarasandha were to attack us we might have no choice but to defend ourselves.’
‘At which point, having your armies and that of your allies in place along Magadha’s borders would prove to be an unexpected, but most welcome, happenstance.’
Dharma now intervened, ‘You forget, Asvattama, that Jarasandha has a garrison at Mathura. What does it say about our intentions regarding open war that we’ve moved no troops towards the west? If the Emperor should decide to attack us we’re completely unprotected.’
Asvattama smoothly countered, ‘Yet another reason to avoid open war with the Emperor, isn’t it? By the way, on another note, have you heard from Govinda Shauri? I believe he marches with the Narayaniyas, doesn’t he?’
Panchali hesitated for a moment before saying, ‘He left here with his men, yes. But no, we haven’t heard from him since.’
‘I hope he’s well. If you should send word to him, please do convey my personal regards.’
The words struck cold fear into Panchali. For many days now she had been trying hard to dismiss the image of Devala Asita walking into the flames of Kandava from her mind. She had not seen him since that day, but something told her that the Firewright was far from dead and far from helpless. The possibility now frightened her more than it had all these days as she realized that Devala would surely try to stop Govinda and he would find unique means of doing so.
‘What do you know that we don’t, Asvattama?’ she asked, her eyes adding words that she dared not say out loud.
‘Many things,’ he replied, though not unkindly. ‘Some of which are best not spoken of at all and others you’d do well to find out about at once.’
The cryptic statement filled the stillness until, eventually, Panchali nodded.
Asvattama took it as a signal and stood up. He turned to Dharma and bowed politely. ‘Thank you for seeing me. I should be getting back.’
‘Won’t you stay and eat with us?’ Dharma offered.
Asvattama shook his head. ‘Not today. But something tells me that I shall feast here at Indr-prastha before long.’ With a cold smile he added, ‘One way, or another.’
Panchali’s lips r
ounded in a silent gasp, but before she could say anything Asvattama made his way out, escorted to the door by Sadev.
Dhaumya waited till their guest was out of earshot before saying, ‘That went well, I think. Though, I must admit, it wasn’t too difficult. Asvattama heard exactly what he wanted to hear. He knows as well as you and I do what’s happening out there. All he wants is to go back and tell Syoddhan that we swore our men did not leave here with the intention to attack Jarasandha.’
‘Which is the truth. Else I would never have accepted it,’ Dharma vehemently declared.
Sadev let out a tired breath. ‘It’s politics, Agraja. Accept that. And on that note, Panchali, I dare say you’ll make a fine diplomat. Your brothers have taught you well.’
Dharma said, ‘I agree. I shall surely breathe easier for that conversation.’
Panchali, however, sounded highly unlike the consummate diplomat Sadev had just mentioned as she burst out, ‘Damn my brothers and damn us all! We need to send messengers out to Partha and Yuyudhana right away. We need to know what’s happened out there.’
‘What’s wrong, my dear?’ Dharma gently asked, his earlier anxiety slowly returning.
‘Asvattama isn’t a man to throw words around lightly. He’s telling us something’s happened. He’s warning us!’
‘Warning us of what?’
‘War.’ Panchali spat out the word. ‘He said that he’d feast at Indr-prastha one way or another. He’s telling us that the Emperor’s armies are marching against us. The assassin has failed.’
Sadev frowned, his disbelief turning into painful certainty as he ran the conversation over in his mind. ‘But … Govinda …’ He faltered as Dharma’s unintentional admission rang loud in his mind: If the Emperor should decide to attack us, we’re completely unprotected.
It was Dharma who forced out the words that no one else seemed willing to speak. ‘Perhaps we’ve been outwitted after all. Perhaps Govinda Shauri has failed, too.’
9
PARTHA HAD SET OUT FROM INDR-PRASTHA WITH A SMALL battalion of men and marched through Panchala into Kosala. Behind him, along the borders of Panchala, Dhrupad’s armies had been mustered. It gave the appearance of a well-considered battle strategy: Partha appeared to be set to attack Jarasandha from the north and west, while Bhim would attack from the south. The size of their forces may have suggested a hidden plan to a suspicious few, but it was dismissed by most observers as foolhardiness. The fact remained that no force was large enough to face the mighty Imperial Army.
When Govinda and Bhim presented themselves at Partha’s camp, looking worn and disreputable, two days and a night after the assassin had been executed, the sentry treated them with all due suspicion. But the two gave the right passwords and so were brought to Partha’s tent. Partha assured the escorting guards that the new arrivals were indeed known to him and waited solemnly until the soldiers left, still unconvinced and suspicious. Then he broke into uproarious laughter.
‘You make an excellent bear, Bhim,’ he quipped, trying in vain to catch his breath.
Govinda joined in the laughter, saying, ‘Just you wait! Some more time on the road and you’ll soon look like this, or worse still.’
‘I think I’d be more of a lion, like you, Govinda. You look good.’
‘You’re just saying that out of fear of my sister.’
‘Vathu!’ Bhim snapped. ‘Shut up, Govinda! It’s your fault we’re in this mess!’
Partha frowned, unsure of what was going on. ‘What happened? Is something wrong?’
‘Something is terribly wrong, Brother. Our man was caught and executed at Girivraja. Jarasandha has declared war on Indr-prastha and his armies are on the way here as we speak. We’ve both ridden with hardly a break for the past two days. Is that enough for you?’
Partha stopped mid-guffaw and stared at Bhim, aghast. Then he turned to Govinda, who nodded. ‘Oh Rudra!’ he cursed and sat down on the edge of the wooden camp-bed. ‘This is bad. This is really bad. We need to hold them off, give Dharma time to put the defences in place. They’ll have to round the Eastern Forests and follow the river, so if …’
‘What defences?’ Bhim shouted. ‘All the Emperor has to do is snap his fingers and the entire bloody garrison of Mathura will empty upon Indr-prastha. There’s nothing we can do, Partha! Unless, like Govinda here, you’d rather surrender and run away to Hara knows which corner of this world and …’
‘Or,’ Govinda interrupted, ‘We could finish the job ourselves.’
‘Govinda, please …’ Partha began before Bhim could erupt a second time.
‘I mean it. We leave tomorrow morning, the three of us. We head back to Girivraja and find a way to do this.’
An uncertain silence followed the declaration. Both Partha and Bhim stared at Govinda, who looked unseeing into the distance, lost in thought. After what felt like a long time, he stirred, and wearily declared, ‘I need a bath.’
Partha gestured to a small exit on the other side of the tent. ‘There’s lots of hot water in the large copper urns just behind there …’
‘For that, I shall owe you the pick of Dwaraka’s courtesans!’ Govinda said. Putting his weapons and other belongings aside, he left the large, room-like tent. Soon they heard the sound of splashing water and a merry voice rose in a bawdy army song.
‘What the …’ Bhim swore. ‘Is this man for real? I tell you, Partha … he didn’t flinch! You should’ve seen what they did to that poor man, but Govinda? He didn’t even blink. And now …? Listen to him! He’s raving mad!’
‘For suggesting that we kill Jarasandha ourselves? What choice do we have, Bhim?’
‘I know we have no choice, but …’
‘It bothers you that he’s so cold about it.’
‘Yes!’
‘Wouldn’t you do something like this to protect that which you love?’
‘What on earth could a man possibly love so much that it turns him into this? Power?’
‘His people.’
Bhim looked unconvinced. ‘He’s using us. He’s using us to destroy his enemy. And you, my brother, seem to have no problems with it!’
Partha placed a calming hand on his brother’s shoulder. ‘Look,’ he said, ‘I don’t like this any more than you do. But war, honourable as it is, won’t save Dharma’s throne or his life. We’ve got to trust Govinda.’
‘Trust! Hah!’ Bhim gave a disparaging snort, which indicated the end of the conversation.
The company of three slipped out of the camp in the early hours of the morning. At Govinda’s insistence they left behind their weapons and dressed in the ochre robes that a couple of soldiers had managed to procure for them during the night. Hair and beard long and unkempt, Govinda and Bhim bore the look of ascetics. Partha still looked a little too well-groomed for the part, but wrapped his thin upper robe around his head and part of his face.
Bhim complained to Govinda, ‘He looks too neat. And we look too scruffy.’
‘Ah, but that’s the point, Bhim,’ Partha replied. ‘We leave behind our weapons, travel unsuspected as ascetics and find our way into the palace through the kitchen gates – the ones used to admit beggars and such. Once we’re in, we knock down a few guards, take their swords and find Jarasandha.’
‘It’s dishonourable, that’s what it is!’
‘It’s as honourable as it was when you lot did it at Kampilya,’ Govinda snidely remarked. He then reined in his temper and added in a neutral tone, ‘We’ll give him a fair fight when it comes to that, if you like. For the moment, let’s just focus on getting to him. Unless you have a better idea, in which case, say it now.’
Partha played mediator again. ‘It’s a good plan, Govinda. No one would expect us to turn up without our weapons, certainly not Jarasandha.’
‘He’s not the only one,’ Bhim grudgingly muttered, feeling naked without his sword.
The trio reached Girivraja without incident. Bhim could not help but shudder as he entered the city gates for the seco
nd time in recent days, reminded of the horror of the execution. Partha and Govinda, however, were more interested in the security arrangements within the city, especially the palace. The three wandered around, carefully observing the routines and the movements of the palace guards.
Bhim whispered, ‘The troops seem to have left. Seems kind of quiet, and not in a nice way.’
Govinda discreetly scrutinized the palace entrance. ‘They’re checking each person who enters the palace. That man there seems to be the usual milliner. The guards obviously know him, but aren’t letting him off without inspection.’
The three men made their way around to the rear entrance to the palace kitchens, where, by tradition, alms were given to beggars, mendicants and others who asked for food. After all they had seen, it did not surprise them to find the gates closed and well-guarded.
‘Great!’ Partha remarked sarcastically. ‘How are we supposed to get to the man?’
Bhim said, ‘There might be tunnels alongside the underground waterways that drain into the river. Most palaces would have some sort of a sewerage system and we could get into the grounds that way … But we don’t even have our weapons to fight our way into the main building.’
Govinda did not reply and, instead, watched keenly as a bearded and cloaked man made his way out of the palace and swung on to a horse. Rider and steed weaved quickly away through the crowd in the general direction of the city gates.
‘I’m not sure fighting would help, Cousin,’ he said, at length. ‘Something tells me that the palace is impregnable. But we need to act, and quick. Yuyudhana and the others are in for trouble. I have another idea. If we can’t get into the palace on our own, we must get invited in.’
‘There’s no point getting ourselves arrested,’ Partha said. ‘Unlike Kampilya, the prisons here are separate. They’re part of the garrison, not the palace.’
‘Then we need to get in as guests.’
Govinda (The Aryavarta Chronicles) Page 32
