The Oath of The Vayuputras

by Amish

  An astonished Bhagirath folded his hands together in an apologetic Namaste. ‘I apologise profusely if I have offended you in any way, My Lord. Please tell me how I can set it right.’

  ‘It’s very simple,’ said Bhrigu. ‘I was really looking forward to meeting the Emperor’s daughter and her new husband. But you have not brought Princess Anandmayi along with you.’

  ‘Apologies for my oversight, My Lord,’ said Bhagirath. ‘I overlooked this only because I rushed here to pay obeisance to my respected father, whom I have not met for a long time. And Princess Anandmayi has dutifully accompanied her husband General Parvateshwar to Kashi.’

  Bhrigu suddenly held his breath as he read Bhagirath’s thoughts. Parvateshwar wants to defect? He wants to return to Meluha?

  ‘I guess I will only have the pleasure of meeting Princess Anandmayi and General Parvateshwar when the Almighty wills it,’ said Bhrigu.

  The smile on Bhrigu’s face left Bhagirath with a sense of unease.

  ‘Hopefully that will be soon enough, My Lord,’ said Bhagirath. ‘If I may now be excused, I’d like to meet up with some people and then head to Kashi for some unfinished tasks.’

  Dilipa was about to say something when Bhrigu raised his hand and placed it on Bhagirath’s head. ‘Of course, brave Prince. Go with Lord Ram.’

  ‘Why did you let him go, My Lord?’ said Dilipa, as soon as Bhagirath had left. ‘We could have arrested him. The interrogation would have surely revealed what happened in Panchavati.’

  ‘I’m already aware of what happened,’ said Bhrigu. ‘Our ships did reach Panchavati and even managed to kill a large number from amongst their convoy. But they did not kill the main leaders. Shiva is still alive. And our ships were destroyed in the battle.’

  ‘Even so, we should not allow Bhagirath to leave. Why are we letting one of their main leaders go back unharmed?’

  ‘I have blessed him with a long life, Your Highness. I’m sure you don’t want me to be proven a liar.’

  ‘Of course not, My Lord.’

  Bhrigu looked at Dilipa and smiled. ‘I know what you are thinking, Your Highness. Trust me, in chess as in war, one sometimes sacrifices a minor piece for the strategic advantage of capturing a more important piece several moves later.’

  Dilipa frowned.

  ‘Let me make myself very clear, Your Highness,’ said Bhrigu. ‘Prince Bhagirath must not be harmed in Ayodhya. I imagine he will leave your city within a day. He should leave safe and sound. I want them to think that we are none the wiser from Bhagirath’s brief visit.’

  ‘Yes, My Lord.’

  ‘Provision and ready a fast sailboat. I must leave for Kashi immediately.’

  ‘Yes, My Lord.’

  ‘Please have the manifest of my ship state that I am going to Prayag. Bhagirath still has friends in Ayodhya. I don’t want him to know that I’m leaving for Kashi. Is that clear?’

  ‘Of course, My Lord. I will have Siamantak take care of this immediately.’

  Chapter 15

  The Magadhan Issue

  Shiva, Sati and Gopal had just been led into the guest chambers of Surapadman’s royal palace by Andhak, the Magadhan minister for ports.

  Gopal waited for him to leave and then remarked, ‘It’s interesting that we are being housed in Surapadman’s private residence and not King Mahendra’s palace.’

  ‘Surapadman wants to serve as the exclusive channel of information between us and his father,’ said Sati. ‘Being the sole intermediary also allows him the discretion of passing on things selectively. It actually makes me more hopeful of success.’

  ‘I am far less hopeful,’ countered Shiva. ‘No doubt it is actually Surapadman’s writ that runs large in Magadh. Besides being the prince, he is also the keeper of the king’s seal. But even he would be wary of his father’s reaction following the killing of Prince Ugrasen. Perhaps that is why he wants to talk to us in private here.’

  ‘Perhaps,’ said Gopal. ‘Maybe that’s the reason why we were received in Magadh by Andhak and not King Mahendra’s prime minister.’

  ‘Yes,’ said Shiva. ‘I believe Andhak is loyal to Surapadman.’

  ‘Let’s hope for the best,’ said Sati.

  As Shiva, Sati and Gopal entered the prince’s court, Surapadman rose from his ceremonial chair. He walked up to the Neelkanth and then went down on his knees. Surapadman placed his head on Shiva’s feet. ‘Bless me, great Neelkanth.’

  ‘Sukhinah bhav,’ said Shiva, placing his hand on Surapadman’s head, blessing him with happiness.

  Surapadman looked up at Shiva. ‘I hope by the time this conversation ends, My Lord, you will find it in your heart to bless me with victory along with happiness.’

  Shiva smiled and placed his hands on Surapadman’s shoulders as he rose. ‘Please allow me to introduce my companions, Prince Surapadman. This is my wife, Sati.’

  Surapadman bowed low towards Sati. She politely returned Surapadman’s greeting.

  ‘And this is my close friend and the chief of the Vasudevs, Gopal,’ said Shiva.

  Surapadman’s hands came together in a respectful Namaste as his eyes widened with surprise. ‘Lord Ram, be merciful!’

  ‘Pray to him,’ said Gopal, ‘and he will be.’

  Surapadman smiled. ‘My apologies, Gopalji. My informants have always assured me that the legendary Vasudevs are for real. But I believed they would not interfere with worldly affairs unless an existential crisis was upon us.’

  ‘Such a time is upon us, Surapadman,’ said Gopal. ‘And all the true followers of Lord Ram must align themselves with the Neelkanth.’

  Surapadman remained silent.

  ‘Let us make ourselves comfortable, brave Prince of Magadh,’ said Shiva.

  Surapadman led them to the centre of the court where ceremonial chairs had been placed in a circle. Gopal noticed there was no official from the royal Magadhan court except for Andhak. Rumours suggesting that Andhak would soon be taking over the command of the Magadhan army were perhaps true. It could also be deduced that the rest of the Magadhan court was not really aligned with the Neelkanth. Considering Magadh’s traditional rivalry with Ayodhya, one would have imagined that they would choose to align with the Neelkanth. But Ugrasen’s murder seemed to have effectively queered the pitch.

  ‘What can I do for you, My Lord?’ asked Surapadman.

  ‘I will come straight to the point, Prince Surapadman,’ said Shiva. ‘Your elite intelligence officials would have already briefed you that a war is likely.’

  Surapadman nodded silently.

  ‘Perhaps you would also be aware that Ayodhya has not chosen wisely,’ said Gopal.

  ‘Yes, I’m aware of that,’ said Surapadman, allowing himself a hint of a smile. ‘But given Ayodhya’s penchant for indecision and confusion, few can be sure about which side they will eventually find themselves on!’

  Sati smiled. ‘And what do you intend to do, brave Prince?’

  ‘My Lady,’ said Surapadman, ‘I am a believer in the legend of the Neelkanth. And the Lord has shown that he is a worthy inheritor of the title of the Mahadev.’

  Shiva shifted in his seat awkwardly, still not comfortable with being compared to the great Lord Rudra.

  ‘Furthermore, Ayodhya is a terrible overlord,’ continued Surapadman. ‘It needs to be challenged in the interests of Swadweep. And only Magadh has the ability to do that.’

  ‘I can see that only mighty Magadh has the strength to confront Ayodhya,’ said Sati.

  ‘There you have it,’ said Surapadman, ‘I have given you two good reasons why I should choose to stand with the army of the Neelkanth.’

  Shiva, Gopal and Sati remained silent, waiting for the inevitable ‘but’.

  ‘And yet,’ said Surapadman, ‘circumstances have made my situation a little more complex.’

  Turning towards Shiva, Surapadman continued, ‘My Lord, you must already be aware of my dilemma. My brother, Ugrasen, was killed in a Naga terrorist attack and my father is hell-
bent on seeking vengeance.’

  Keeping the sensitivity of the issue in mind, Shiva spoke softly, ‘Surapadman, I think the incident...’

  ‘My Lord,’ said Surapadman, ‘please forgive me for interrupting you, but I know the truth.’

  ‘I’m not sure you do, Prince Surapadman. Or else your reaction would have been different.’

  Surapadman smiled, looked briefly at Andhak and continued. ‘My Lord, Andhak and I have investigated the case personally. We’ve visited the spot where my brother and his men were killed. We’re aware of the incident.’

  Sati couldn’t help inquiring, ‘Then why...’

  ‘What can I do, My Lady?’ asked Surapadman. ‘My father is a grieving old man who has convinced himself that his favourite son was a noble and valiant Kshatriya, who died while defending his kingdom from a cowardly Naga attack. How can I tell him the truth? How do I tell him that Ugrasen was in fact a compulsive gambler who was trying to kidnap a hapless boy-rider so that he could win some money? Should I tell my father that my great brother tried to murder a mother who was protecting her own child? That the apparently wicked Nagas were actually heroes who saved a subject of his own kingdom from his son’s villainy? Do you think he will even listen to me?’

  ‘There is nobility in truth,’ said Sati, ‘even if it hurts.’

  Surapadman laughed softly. ‘This is not Meluha, My Lady. Meluhans’ devotion to “the truth” is seen by many here as nothing but rigidity of thought. Chandravanshis prefer to choose from several alternative truths which may simultaneously co-exist.’

  Sati remained silent.

  Surapadman turned to Shiva. ‘My Lord, my father thinks that I am an ambitious warmonger who’s impatient to ascend the throne. He preferred my elder brother, who was more attuned to my father’s views. I think he suspects that I engineered the death of Ugrasen, in pursuit of my goals.’

  ‘I’m sure that’s not true,’ said Shiva. ‘You are his capable son.’

  ‘It takes a very self-assured man to appreciate the talents of another, My Lord,’ said Surapadman. ‘Even when it comes to one’s own progeny. Ironically, the Nagas have in fact helped me, for my path to the throne is clear. All I have to do is wait for my father to pass on. And desist from doing anything that will make him disinherit me and offer the throne to some relative. Given this, if I were to tell my father that his favourite son’s murder by the “evil” Nagas was absolutely justified, I would probably go down in history as the stupidest royal ever.’

  Gopal smiled slightly. ‘It appears that we are at an impasse, Prince Surapadman. What do we do?’

  Surapadman narrowed his eyes. ‘Just give me a Naga.’

  ‘I can’t,’ said Shiva.

  ‘I’m not asking for the one who actually killed Ugrasen, My Lord,’ said Surapadman. ‘I guess he is someone important. All I’m asking for is a random Naga. I will present him to my father as Ugrasen’s killer and we’ll have him executed forthwith. My father will then happily retire and go into sanyas to pray for my brother’s soul. And I, along with all the resources of Magadh, will stand beside you. I know the Brangas are with you. Victory is assured if Magadh and Branga are on the same side. You will win the war, My Lord, and Evil will be destroyed. All you need to do is sacrifice an insignificant Naga, who is suffering for the sins of his past lives in any case. We will actually be giving him an opportunity to earn good karma. What do you say?’

  Shiva did not hesitate even for a second. ‘I cannot do that.’

  ‘My Lord...’

  ‘I will not do that.’

  ‘But...’

  ‘No.’

  Surapadman leaned back in his chair. ‘We indeed seem to be at an impasse, great Vasudev. My father will not allow me to fight in an army that includes the Nagas unless we can assuage his thirst for vengeance.’

  Shiva spoke up before Gopal could respond. ‘What if you do not pick any side at all?’

  Surapadman frowned, intrigued.

  ‘Convince your father to remain neutral,’ continued Shiva. ‘Allow my ships to proceed to battle with Ayodhya. If we are able to beat them, then your primary enemies are weakened. If they beat us, our army, including the Nagas, would be in retreat. Your imagination can fill in the rest. You win both ways.’

  Surapadman smiled. ‘That does have an attractive ring to it.’

  Parvateshwar and Anandmayi were housed in a separate wing of the massive Kashi palace, having arrived in the city recently. Anandmayi and Ayurvati had gone to meet Veerbhadra and the Gunas.

  The Meluhan general was sitting in his chamber balcony, looking out towards the Ganga flowing in the distance.

  ‘My Lord,’ called out the doorman.

  Parvateshwar turned. ‘Yes?’

  ‘A messenger has just delivered a note for you.’

  ‘Hand it to me.’

  ‘Yes, My Lord.’

  As the doorman came in, Parvateshwar asked, ‘Who brought the message?’

  ‘The main palace door-keeper, My Lord.’

  Parvateshwar raised his brows. ‘An outsider would not be allowed in, would he? What I wanted to know was who gave the message to the palace door-keeper?’

  The doorman looked lost. ‘How would I know, My Lord?’

  Parvateshwar sighed. These Swadweepans had no sense of systems and procedures. It’s a wonder that an enemy didn’t just stroll into their key installations. He took the neatly sealed papyrus scroll from the doorman and dismissed him. Parvateshwar couldn’t recognise the symbol on the seal. It appeared to be a star, the kind used in ancient astrological charts. He shrugged and broke it open. The script surprised him; it was one of the standard Meluhan military codes. This one was used exclusively by senior Suryavanshi military officers. It was meant for top secret messages during times of war. For all others, the words in the scroll would have been absolute gibberish.

  Lord Parvateshwar, it’s time to prove your loyalty to Meluha. Meet me in the garden behind the Sankat Mochan temple at the end of the third prahar. Come alone.

  Parvateshwar caught his breath. He instinctively looked towards the door. He was alone. He tucked the scroll into the pouch tied to his waistband.

  He knew what he had to do.

  The sound of bells, drums and prayer chants rent the morning air, day after day, at the Sankat Mochan temple. Having thus awoken Lord Hanuman, the devotees then sing bhajans, as Lord Hanuman would do, to gently wake his master, Lord Ram. At the end of this elaborate puja, the great seventh Vishnu proceeds to grant darshan, the divine pleasure of beholding him. The silence at dusk, however, belied the exuberance of the dawn. This was the time when Parvateshwar strode into the great temple.

  Parvateshwar looked back to ensure that nobody was following him. Then he walked swiftly towards the garden behind the temple. It was quiet. Parvateshwar approached a tree at the far end of the garden and sat leaning against it.

  ‘How are you, General?’ asked a soft, polite voice.

  Parvateshwar looked up. ‘I’ll do a lot better when I see you.’

  ‘Are you alone?’

  ‘I wouldn’t have come had I not been alone.’

  There was silence for some time.

  Parvateshwar got up to leave. ‘If you are a true Meluhan, you would know that Meluhans don’t lie.’

  ‘Wait, General,’ said Bhrigu, as he emerged from the shadows.

  Parvateshwar was stunned. He recognised the Saptrishi Uttradhikari. He knew that despite wielding tremendous influence, Bhrigu had never interfered in the workings of Meluha. He found it hard to believe that Bhrigu could involve himself in mundane matters of the material world.

  ‘I am taking a huge risk in meeting you face-to-face,’ smiled Bhrigu. ‘I had to be sure that you were alone.’

  ‘What are you doing here, Maharishiji?’ asked Parvateshwar, bowing to the great sage.

  ‘I’m doing my duty. As you are doing yours.’

  ‘But you have never interfered in earthly matters.’

  ‘I have,’
said Bhrigu. ‘But only on rare occasion. And this is one such.’

  Parvateshwar remained silent. So Bhrigu is the true leader. He was the one who had sent the joint Meluha-Ayodhya fleet to attack Lord Shiva’s convoy by stealth outside Panchavati. Parvateshwar’s respect for Bhrigu went down a notch. The great sage was human after all.

  ‘You already know what you have to do,’ said Bhrigu. ‘I know that you will not support the fraud Neelkanth in attacking your beloved motherland.’

  Parvateshwar bristled with anger. ‘Lord Shiva is not a fraud! He’s the finest man to have walked the earth since Lord Ram!’

  Bhrigu stepped back, astonished. ‘Perhaps I was wrong. Perhaps you do not love Meluha as much as I thought you did.’

  ‘Lord Bhrigu, I would die for Meluha,’ said Parvateshwar. ‘For it is my duty to do so. But please don’t make the mistake of thinking that I despise the Lord Neelkanth. He is my living God.’

  Bhrigu frowned, even more surprised. He looked into Parvateshwar’s eyes. The normally restrained sage’s mouth fell open ever so slightly. He realised that he was looking at a rare man who spoke exactly what he thought. Bhrigu’s tenor changed and became respectful. ‘My apologies, great General. I can see that your reputation does you justice. I misunderstood you. Sometimes the hypocritical nature of the world makes us immune to a rare sincere man.’

  Parvateshwar remained silent.

  ‘Will you fight for Meluha?’ asked Bhrigu.

  ‘To my last breath,’ whispered Parvateshwar. ‘But I will fight according to Lord Ram’s laws.’

  ‘Of course.’

  ‘We will not break the rules of war.’

  Bhrigu nodded silently.

  ‘I suggest, Maharishiji,’ said Parvateshwar, ‘that you return to Meluha. I will follow in a few weeks.’

  ‘It would not be wise to remain here, General,’ said Bhrigu. ‘If anything were to happen to you, the consequences for Meluha would be disastrous. Your army needs a good leader.’

  ‘I cannot leave without taking my Lord’s permission.’

  Bhrigu thought he hadn’t heard right. ‘Excuse me? Did you say that you wanted to take permission from the Neelkanth before leaving?’