*
For fifteen days, the two armies stood eyeball to eyeball, and yet neither moved an inch. After a fortnight, the Mongol army withdrew ten miles in a day, their acute intuition warning them they were against an enemy who matched them in guile. They realized the Sultanate’s armies were not going to move. It was a stand-off. Then most of them began to think, At least the grass would have grown by the time we get back, and a six-month trek back home will not be as strenuous. Slowly, the Mongols packed up their tents and heaped their weapons on the backs of their beloved ponies, and they turned towards home. The relieved Khiljis gave them a safe exit.
And so ended the confrontation of the Mongols with the Delhi Sultanate.
Malik’s mind became a vortex of emotions after that. The full meaning of his triumph finally overwhelmed him. It was his first major success. His idea had in effect defeated the most powerful army in the world. He felt the power of destiny beckon him. No doubt the Sultan would claim the idea to be his own, but Alauddin also knew he could turn to Malik to advise him on how to protect his empire.
The wrought-iron gate of the Delhi fort was clanked open ceremoniously. The joy of victory was not blighted by the deaths of Zafar and his forces, because the Sultan had brought back almost all the soldiers he had taken to battle. The city erupted into spontaneous joy. The marching forces were led by Alauddin who was welcomed at the gates by the governor. He returned the key that had been entrusted to him, placed on a blue satin cushion and glittering in the sunlight.
After the Mongols disappeared, Malik Kafur’s position was firmly entrenched. He was summoned to the Sultan’s throne room in the Ruby Palace. As he entered the throne room, he bowed. When he got up, he saw the throne in all its grandeur – was this the throne he was destined to sit on?
The closest Alauddin came to sharing ownership for the glory was when he gave Malik a clap on the back. ‘Well, slave, we had a nice idea, did we not?’
Malik could only smile.
Alauddin publicly took credit for the victory, as Malik had known he would. The populace of Delhi went one step further and laid their gratitude at the cherished feet of a Sufi saint, Nizamuddin Auliya. A profound reverence for the saint attracted more men and women to his humble home to thank him for an enemy he himself had never fought nor had even seen.
CHAPTER 15
A NEW CROWN PRINCE
Veera’s marriage to Radhika was met with relief more than with astonishment. After he married a soldier’s daughter from a village, most people thought he had decided that the Pandyan throne was out of his reach and had therefore opted out of the race. Why else would he refuse the matrimonial offers from a dozen princesses whose fathers would have been valuable allies?
For Radhika, Madurai was a new experience. She was delighted by the facets of urban life and constantly asked questions of Veera, who patiently answered all of them – Veera realized he was discovering new qualities within himself.
Radhika had never left her village before, and yet adjusted herself remarkably well to a life among royalty, a contrast with the humble lifestyle she had grown up in. She had never enjoyed any of the luxuries Veera and his family took for granted. Her verve was somewhat tempered by nervous apprehension; she wondered how Veera’s mother would treat her.
Initially, Tara had been cold, unable to accept a stranger in her household. But as the days went on, Radhika had won her over. Very soon, Tara could be heard commenting that Radhika was the best thing to have happened to her son.
After Radhika arrived, loud references about serfs were frequently made in the harem circles. The slurs never angered her, though. Instead, they made her more determined. Veera got to hear of the malicious comments one day and asked her, ‘Did someone say something mean to you?’
‘Yes,’ she replied, ‘but I can manage it.’ She made up for a ‘lack of culture’ with a witty tongue and her royal relatives learnt to their dismay that any sarcasm intended to break her spirit was returned with a word more stinging than a whip and delivered faster than one. Radhika soon earned the respect of her new kinfolk. Even many who had second thoughts about the suitability of Veera as a king did not doubt that she would make a good queen.
She tried to fit into her newfound status. She began using a variety of make-up and perfumes and sometimes, by chance, Veera could smell a familiar whiff – a smell that aroused a dim remembrance of Sunanda.
It was not only in appearance that Radhika spruced herself up.
After three years of their marriage, Veera knew that his wife was on firmer ground than he was. She dealt with servants with a determined hand, brooking no nonsense, and she soon began ruling the household with a firm but gentle hand.
Veera had found an excellent friend in her. She was a clever conversationalist, a rational thinker who articulately put forth her views. The two of them could have meaningful discussions, even if they disagreed on certain issues. She looked at the world from the view of the ruled, while Veera thought in terms of the ruling class.
Radhika enlivened his life. Yet, though she proved herself a very agreeable companion, their marriage was unconsummated for a very long time. She had been unable to discern why. Veera seemed to carry out his duties normally, accomplishing whatever tasks the king assigned him with great speed and efficiency. A strange force was driving him, she knew. He would eat without tasting and sleep without resting. She finally realized that if he ever made love to her, it would be sex without any love.
To the outside world, they were a well-matched couple. Radhika was not unduly worried. She knew he would make love to her and very soon. Even after they were married, Veera continued to receive matrimonial offers from allies, but he steadfastly refused all of them. This strengthened the relationship between them. They were the best of friends but everything stopped exasperatingly short of lovemaking.
Radhika knew the past troubled Veera like a leech that had clung to his legs long after he had waded through a marsh. He had not forgotten Sunanda at all. The intensity of his love for her, coupled with Sunanda’s proximity, made things worse. The very fact that she was wedded to his sworn enemy eternally bothered him. He would be restless in sleep and wake up with bloodshot eyes, compelling Radhika to visit the Meenakshi temple every day to pray for his peace of mind.
*
It was the king’s birthday and celebrations were being held in the Meenakshi temple. Sundar and Sunanda stood next to Veera and Radhika, who greeted Sunanda with a smile. Sunanda knew the entire palace was aware of her affair with Veera, and Radhika must have heard of it too. She turned her head away, not acknowledging the greeting. Radhika shrugged, knowing that Sunanda was hurt by Veera’s marriage. The very fact that he had not married for so long was a reminder that he loved her and it was a betrayal for her when he returned from the village with a yokel as his wife.
Radhika closely observed her husband’s reactions whenever Sunanda came close while the celebrations were on. Veera shut his eyes tight as if the entire world was invisible and Sunanda with it. Sunanda did the same if Veera ventured involuntarily near her. Two idiots, Radhika thought to herself. Once the rituals were over, on their way back, Radhika told Veera, ‘She still loves you.’
‘Who?’ Veera asked innocently.
‘You know who,’ she retorted.
Veera felt the venom in Radhika’s voice for the first time since their marriage.
Seeing Sunanda again brought back memories that disturbed Veera and he woke up that night with a start, shivering uncontrollably. Radhika stirred and was soon wide awake too. To comfort him, she stroked his bare back gently, and to her amazement, she could feel that she was arousing him slowly. Then, as if a dyke had been destroyed, the feelings that had been restrained for so long overpowered them and they made love with a hunger that seemed insatiable.
But, halfway through making love, a half-asleep Veera suddenly said, ‘Sunanda...’
Radhika sighed resignedly as she thought, How long will I live in her shadow?
Veera was fully awake when they finished. A big load had come off his heart. He had crossed a fence that he had thought was an unsurpassable barrier. As he sat on his side of the bed, he said, ‘Akshayan would have liked it this way.’
Radhika murmured, ‘He would have also liked it if his name was never mentioned again.’
After their first time, their sex life became more regular, and Veera started looking forward to their nights together. Radhika was like a tigress who could tire him out in bed. Within a year, he was so much in love with her that her mere presence was enough to excite him.
*
The king had been advised that it was time Vikrama’s place was filled. The empire had grown larger and the rules imposed on the vassals had to be enforced. Kulasekharan could not decide what to do, despite the sweeping powers that were vested on him. A seasoned administrator, the monarch never gave anybody an insight into his feelings. But now, he gave his council a more lucid view of what he was thinking.
‘Can’t we appoint two people simultaneously?’ he asked the council. Some smiled within their tightly pursed lips. They enjoyed the king’s rare show of discomfiture.
The firm opinion of the council was ‘no’. It seemed to the king that the courtiers were laughing behind his back. It was no wonder, with the sorry spectacle the royal family had become. He was to blame, of course. The royal rivalry had begun when the boys were barely out of their cradles. He should have intervened in their battle of wills, but it was too late now. ‘This appointment will anoint the next king. Can there be two swords in one sheath?’ the prime minister asked of Kulasekharan, who knew he was being asked to choose the man he thought was fit to rule when he died.
A crown prince of some stature was essential to the well-being of an empire. The transition from one administration to another had to be seamless. The crown prince needed to have enough time to imbibe the qualities of the king or change the administration to his style of functioning. Just being the first-born or the legal heir did not mean that the offspring would inherit the kingdom. Kings had the constitution of breeding bulls and there was no lack of sons to fill the place of dead heirs. Veera and Sundar had other brothers too, although they had no say in this race. The battle was between the two.
Kulasekharan procrastinated. Within him, a battle raged. A wrong decision and the country would descend into a mire. But the council emphasized the necessity to take a decision soon.
Veera had decided that he would cease thinking about the crown. He did not believe in lobbying for the throne, and had maintained a silence despite the rumours hovering around the palace. His target was the throne; he had tried to bend the bars to escape the weight of his roots, and had succeeded so far. He was willing to fight Sundar’s appointment, but he was tired and wary of the people who surrounded him now. He began walking around with a smile, thinking that a frown could deprive him of the mask of nonchalance that he wore.
The question of who would eventually ascend the throne deprived him of sleep. He knew his father would announce the name of the nominated person the next day. His bedsheets bore witness to the battle within him, crumpled by his tossing and turning. He stood up and walked to the window. It had been raining heavily when they had gone to sleep. Perhaps the rain will distract my mind, he thought. The sun had disappeared for three days now, each dismal day dawning as dark as night, and the lack of sunlight made most people irritable. Veera tried to cope with his nervousness. If it had been the morning, he could have taken a ride. But it was still night, and it continued to rain. He stayed by the window, brooding. He knew his achievements were great enough for the king to regard them, and only the narrow lens of bias could declare him ineligible. If he and Sundar were placed on the same scale, it would tip in his favour without question. He had won immense fame for his Lankan campaign, although that had been years ago.
It mortified him that his future hinged on the king’s decision. They would probably send a team of advisors who would tell him to accept Sundar’s nomination as a matter of patriotic duty. His cooperation, or at least non-resistance, was essential to Sundar’s success. Many before him had assented without a word of objection, but some had raised the banner of revolt and precipitated a civil war. Family feuds had only weakened the empire and Veera was afraid to be the reason for another one. A king feared overthrow, a merchant penury, a warrior defeat and a courtesan old age. He would have to abide by the decision of the king and vow allegiance to his rival. He hated the thought of serving under Sundar, of renouncing the glory he had once basked in and withdrawing to the background.
Veera knew the king was torn in his choice. The loss of Sunanda and his exile to Lanka had cleared any doubts Veera had about the queen’s clout. The odds were noticeably loaded in Sundar’s favour. His life had not been risked in wars and it had been Veera who was sent to the battlefront instead.
Her restless husband’s movements jolted Radhika awake and she began stirring. She opened her eyes and saw him staring at her. He was by the window with a forlorn face so she bade him to come close. Her scent was enough to excite him. Veera was nervous and anxious, and Radhika knew the only way to calm him down was to make love. She beckoned him. He felt a warm hand on his sweaty palm, and her serene and pliant voice said, ‘Whatever happens tomorrow, it does not have to be the end. We could still build another empire.’
They made love, whispering words to each other as their lips met and their bodies intertwined. She shivered as he placed his palm on her bosom. She could not help wondering whether this would be the hand that guided the destiny of millions.
After they finished, he let his entire body settle against her limply. He gathered his strength after a moment and rolled off, settling back on the pillow with a sated sigh of gratification. Her eyes were closing rapidly and she had trouble staying awake. He snuggled closer, fitting himself to the curve of her body.
They were woken by an urgent rapping on their door. It was past midnight. Swathed in her bedsheet, Radhika sat up, her senses still dulled by sex and sleep, unable to discern whether the knock was a dream or reality.
‘Whoever it is has their timing right,’ Veera said. In mock anger she reached out to slap his back as he got out of bed. He hastily wrapped his dhoti around himself and walked to the door.
‘Who is it?’
A hushed voice said, ‘It is me, Vani.’ The door swung open with a creak, a protest by its ancient hinges. Radhika twisted her mouth into a disapproving grimace. This maid had the guts to knock at their bedroom door at this hour and should be chided for it.
As their eyes adjusted to the darkness outside, Vani appeared in the shadows through the dim gap that widened when the door was opened. Veera realized she was sweating; suddenly, he was alarmed. Was something wrong with her son? My son?
‘What is wrong, Vani?’ he enquired.
She fumbled with her words, gasping for air. ‘On the contrary, Your Highness, everything is right. My lord, you have been named the crown prince!’ she announced.
Stunned by the news, Veera could only nod mutely. Vani was happy to see the look on his face. She smiled, tears welling up in her eyes. He was so wonderstruck that she knew it was no use saying anything more. The wave of relief he felt was so powerful that he took a few steps back and sat down on the cot with a thud. All his despair exited in one moment of anticlimax. How have they chosen me to be the next king? Has the past been forgotten? he wondered.
Vani had to be rewarded – that was the custom, to give something valuable to one who brought good tidings. Radhika swathed herself in her bedclothes, walked ahead and held Vani’s hands in a rare show of affection.
‘A nice costume for a queen,’ Vani boldly commented.
Radhika laughed. ‘You have brought good news.’ She removed the pearl necklace from her neck and dropped it into Vani’s hands.
Vani took it and vanished into the shadows. Veera could not sleep further. Had his stepmother’s manipulations not worked? The prince within him was happ
y, but he was curious about what factors had tilted the balance in his favour. Perhaps the voice of rectitude had been loud enough for the king to keep from wavering. Veera felt empty since he had firmly believed he would not be chosen.
‘Aren’t you happy?’ asked Radhika. ‘Isn’t this what you wanted?’
‘Of course I am happy, but my brother will make my father pay a hefty price for this decision,’ Veera said quietly.
*
The news spread like wildfire. Next morning, the sun rose to a blue, cloudless sky. Like a child waiting for a promised gift, Veera kept looking towards the door impatiently. At last, he heard the clip-clop of hooves. It was the prime minister. He walked in with a retinue of assistants to give Veera the official intimation according to protocol. Veera thanked him quietly.
There was absolutely no adverse reaction from the opposing group. The queen had hesitated to interfere, showing that she recognized the king’s supremacy. Veera was not fooled – he knew the queen must have declared silent vengeance upon him. Even Sundar’s camp, with his thugs, had kept quiet.
The date of anointment was fixed by a dozen astrologers. They had looked into his horoscope and fixed a date to suit his stars. The coronation, like any other, was at the Meenakshi temple. When Veera invited his mother to the coronation, she refused. ‘I don’t want to spoil it for you. I did not even go to your father’s coronation,’ she said.
Veera’s cavalcade rode down to the temple’s east entrance. He rode a white horse, decorated with a white plume on its forehead – in contrast to Veera’s dark complexion. He wore an azure silk garment woven with gold zari. Bare-breasted, he sported the ornaments that had been delivered to him just the previous night. The jewels were ancient and rarely worn – they were ornaments that were brought out only on the day of a crown prince’s anointment.
Never in his life had he taken so much care about clothes and he admired himself in the mirror for a long time. Even Radhika’s mocking smile had not affected his mood. ‘Well, I may have to buy a new mirror,’ she had declared. She had been the sole user of the polished silver mirror in the bedroom so far – Veera had not even known that it existed.
Gods, Kings & Slaves: The Siege of Madurai Page 25
