Murmurs came from inside. Then a lady’s voice: ‘Come in.’
Rishabha inserted a key in the hole and pushed open the door. Then he stood to the side and allowed Jahnavi to pass.
As the door closed behind her, Jahnavi took in the luxury of the cell. A thick silver and brown carpet draped the floor and cushioned her feet, reminding her of the soft lawns on Meru. Six candle stands had been mounted on the four walls in this room alone, whereas downstairs, the whole corridor had but four. The air was laced with cinnamon perfume, and when she took a deep breath, her nose detected a tinge of ripe grapes too.
The prisoners – Lady Devaki and her male companion, who Jahnavi surmised was the Vasudev Lady Ganga told her about – were dressed in the clothes of royals. Their fingers were shorn of rings and no jewels hung around their necks or clung to their arms, but the silk that covered their bodies was of the finest kind. A golden amphora of wine stood on the table next to the canopied, curtained bed. Two guards stood on either side of the couple, fanning them with giant white feathers.
Along the far edge of the room stood a larger table, covered with a sheet, emanating odours of spices and curry.
‘Rishabha tells me you tried to seduce him,’ said Lady Devaki. ‘Do you not know that bribery is a crime in Mathura?’
Jahnavi bowed. ‘A person awaiting execution in two days cannot be expected to fear punishment, my lady, surely.’
‘No.’ Devaki smiled slightly. ‘One supposes not. I have not summoned you here because I wish to reprimand you for that. You are a grown maiden. You know what is best for your body and for your soul.’
Jahnavi again had the feeling she had been aware of that morning, that Lady Devaki could give them their one opportunity to escape the prison. Although she felt shamefaced at the failed seduction of Rishabha, it had not been a futile exercise, she thought, if it had led to her gaining an audience with Devaki.
‘I have called you here,’ Devaki continued, ‘because your actions tell me you wish to get out of the prison. And your appearance tells me you could be of use to us. I felt that you and I, Jahnavi, could perhaps enter a trade.’
‘Yes, my lady?’
‘Rishabha here came to this prison three months ago. He was sent here by Pritha, my sister-in-law, with instructions that he must protect my children.’
Rishabha came forward and bowed to Jahnavi. Jahnavi gathered her cloak tighter about her.
‘I have gotten with child once since Rishabha came here, but by then we had not won over the guards as yet and one of them sent word to Kamsa. They made me swallow a concoction of herbs, and the weight in my stomach disappeared.’
She said this with no apparent emotion in her face. But Jahnavi could see the corner of her left eye flicker and the lips purse together a bit tighter.
‘I am not with child now, but I shall be soon, the Goddess willing. This time, no guard will know of it, for all the men who stand by this cell have been bought by Rishabha.’
‘Not with my own gold, my lady,’ said Rishabha, apologetically. ‘The court of Shurasena sends me a few coins every moon on Her Highness Pritha’s command.’
‘Just so,’ said Devaki, smiling at him. ‘We shall never be able to repay the debt we owe Pritha.’ She turned to Jahnavi. ‘Kamsa will never come to know when I have this child. At least, he will not until the child is safe in the court of Shurasena.’
Jahnavi thought of the alliance between Magadha and Mathura that would be announced at the midsummer feast. Shurasena and Kunti – although allies of Hastinapur now – stood first among the many kingdoms that would fall to Jarsandha’s might. Nobody would be safe in the court of Shurasena.
But Devaki did not have to know that. Not yet.
‘The way out of this prison is an easy one. Rishabha will have no difficulty in quietly taking a small basket out into the open, unnoticed. But the path to Shurasena is littered with many obstacles. The Yamuna stands in our way, and she is covered with war barges that insist on searching every traveller that goes out and comes in.’
‘My lady, that is true,’ said Jahnavi.
‘Rishabha has told me of your magic.’
‘Magic, my lady?’
‘The three of you – you helped the High King build up Mathura’s defences. I was told you covered the walls with a shroud of fog so that the builders could work uninterrupted.’
‘Yes, my lady. It is a Mystery I learned in the land where I grew up.’
‘I shall not ask you what land that is, girl,’ said Devaki, looking away for a moment. ‘But I think not that you are from Pundra at all.’
‘It perhaps does not matter where I am from, my lady, as long as I am of service to you.’
‘Your voice is heavy with the accent of the Northern Kingdoms. And your eyes – Pritha wrote to me letters about the High Sage Durvasa, who stole the black stones from Mathura. He had eyes that seemed to change colour, she said, black when he was calm, green when he was excited, yellow when he was consumed by fury.’
Jahnavi smiled at the description. ‘No man’s eyes have the power to change colour as you describe, my lady.’
‘I know that.’ Devaki may have read the condescension in her smile, for her face twitched in irritation. ‘What she meant was that his eyes were fluid, like the waters of a river. Constantly changing shape, swirling, falling, waving …’ She got off the bed and walked to her. She placed her hands on Jahnavi’s shoulders and looked up. ‘You have the same eyes.’
Jahnavi fought the urge to break the gaze.
‘And they say that Durvasa was from the mountain that stands at the northern tip of North Country. Are there lands beyond the mountain, Jahnavi?’
‘I … I do not know what mountain you speak of, my lady.’
‘On the cusp of death, and yet you mouth your lies. So be it.’ Devaki signalled to Rishabha, who went to the table at the edge and removed the sheet covering it. The smells tantalized Jahnavi’s nose now, and from the corner of her vision she could see brown-roasted thighs of tender lamb.
‘You are right, I do not need to know where you come from. But I do need to know I can trust you.’
Jahnavi swallowed, not certain yet what the lady was asking her. But if she was willing to help them flee from the prison, no price was too hefty. ‘You can trust me, my lady. I shall do whatever you ask of me.’
Devaki held her gaze for a moment, then nodded. She waved Jahnavi to the table. ‘I have been taught that one should never trust a famished maiden. You shall first have your meal, and then we shall talk.’
The tender meat dulled the thudding in Jahnavi’s head. The three of them – Devaki, Vasudev and Rishabha – watched her eat, but she did not give in to the voice of decorum. For the first time since she had left Meru, she was being fed food fit for Celestials, and as she munched on green chillies between large mouthfuls of mutton and fish, she imagined herself at the court of Indra, or in Preceptor Brihaspati’s hermitage. When she gulped down water from the bejewelled jug to soothe her burning tongue, it felt as though she had knelt down on the grassy knolls by the Crystal Lake and drunk deeply of its refreshing contents.
Her stomach full, she turned on her seat, away from the wall, and joined her hands to Devaki. ‘You shall be forever blessed for having fed me this well, my lady.’
‘At least half your blessings belong to Rishabha,’ said Devaki, ‘and the other half must go to the people who cooked your meal. I merely … arranged it.’
‘You could ask me for my life right now, my lady, and I shall gladly give it.’
‘No, we cannot have that. You and your two friends must live, if my son is to live and avenge the deaths of my children.’ A fire smouldered in her eyes now, a black, slow fire. ‘I shall make Kamsa pay for all that he has done. A day will come when he will fall on my feet and beg for mercy, and I shall cut his throat while his eyes cry tears of regret.’
Jahnavi looked at the seated figure of Vasudev. He had not moved from the edge of the bed since her arrival, a
nd he had not said a word. But now he raised his head and said, ‘Perhaps it is better to ask for mercy ourselves, Devaki.’
Devaki did not react. For a moment, no one in the room spoke. All Jahnavi heard was the rustle of the feathers as they moved in the servants’ hands. Vasudev’s words hung in the air like rings of smoke, and it was as if they were waiting for them to dissolve and disappear.
At length, Devaki told Jahnavi, ‘I shall repeat what I said before, Jahnavi. I shall trust you, and I only ask that you trust me in return. I shall give you your freedom, and in return, you shall make sure my child reaches the court of Shurasena in safety.’
‘How shall I do that, Your Highness?’
‘You have your ways,’ said Devaki. ‘I know you do. If you have craftsmen and engineers who can build archery ranges, walls and towers in half a season, if you have magic in your fingers that can raise a shroud of fog around a place, I know you have enough means to transport a babe across a river.’
‘Yes, my lady.’
‘Without your help, my child will never reach Shurasena.’ Her voice quivered, but she quickly regained her hold on it. ‘Without my help, you shall never get out of this prison alive.’
Jahnavi said, ‘I understand, my lady. I give you my word – and I speak for all the people in my land when I say this. We shall do all that is within our power to save your child. For in his safety lies the ruin of Kamsa.’
‘Yes,’ said Devaki, repeating the words with relish, as if drinking them. ‘In his safety lies the ruin of Kamsa.’
Jahnavi found that she could not sleep in her cell that night, even though the air was free of mosquitoes and her stomach full. Lady Ganga was right; the more they meddled in the affairs of men, the worse things seemed to become, and the more they needed to meddle further. It had all begun the very first time Ganga had come down to Earth to bear Vasishtha’s curse. Hastinapur had been a small kingdom then, no more than a vassal of Panchala, but ever since that fateful night on which Shantanu and Ganga met under the peepal, North Country was never the same again.
The descent of Devavrata, that man who refused to be a Celestial, made Hastinapur a greater kingdom than it had ever hoped to be. If he had not been trained on the mountain, if he had not drunk of the Crystal Water for much of his boyhood, would Devavrata have been the same warrior? Perhaps, but perhaps not. The annexing of Kasi and Kosala put Hastinapur abreast of Panchala, and with the alliances of Gandhar and Kunti, it became the kingdom whose very name was feared throughout the land. And Bhishma – the terrible, the kind, the heroic, the chaste – became the greatest warrior of his age, the greatest regent and unifier that North Country had ever had.
One change led to another, and another, and another. First Ganga, then Durvasa, then Parashurama, now Jahnavi. Already she could see the web thicken far into the future. They would escape this prison now, but they would need to come down again to quell the might of Kamsa and Jarasandha. And who knew what else would happen then?
She felt that in this battle they were allayed against the Goddess herself, with her thousand arms and thousand eyes and thousand minds. No matter how wise the Wise Ones, no matter how pragmatic the sages, no matter how crafty the Lady of the River, none could match the Goddess, for she saw all that had happened, and all that would happen. If Devaki thought she, Jahnavi, had the Mystery of the shroud, then the Goddess herself had the darkest shroud of them all, covering all of their eyes at the same time.
The arrogance of men, Mother had said, made them believe they could see the future. If we did this, men thought, that would happen. No matter how many times the Goddess proved them wrong, they did not learn.
Life on Meru was now deeply entwined with that of Earth, and its fortunes relied on those of these Great Kingdoms – of Magadha, of Mathura, of Shurasena, of Kunti, and most of all, of Hastinapur.
Jahnavi did not know what lay ahead. Perhaps somewhere deep in the future, the mountain itself would fall. Would blood flow down its slopes? Would the Crystal Lake dry up and leave behind a parched crater? Would the Mysteries be lost, to be forever buried inside the bosom of the Goddess?
She found herself awash with sweat at the thought.
She loosened her cloak, swallowed a few times. She sat up, drank from her tumbler.
Do not think of the far future, she heard someone say, deep inside her, in the voice of Lady Ganga. Think no further than tomorrow, for the Goddess has intended life to be lived that way: one short day at a time.
The words stilled her mind, and she lay down on her back with her arm pillowing her head. A lone star lit the patch of black sky that covered the window. Jahnavi spent a few moments smiling up at it, and before she knew it, her eyelids grew heavy and she was fast asleep.
She did not dream of anything.
At daybreak, Rishabha came to wake her up. He did not bow, did not call her ‘my lady’. ‘It is time for your wash,’ he said, and signalled to the guard to open the lock.
Outside the bathing room, she found Devaki waiting for her, seated with hands wrapped around her knees. Rishabha escorted her to the empty seat opposite the lady. ‘Call the others,’ said Devaki, and in response to Rishabha’s signal, two of the guards who had been standing by the door marched out.
In a few minutes, they returned with Nishanta and Kubera. Jahnavi saw that some of the wounds on Kubera’s face had been dressed with cotton.
‘We did not know who you were until the afternoon, and by then it was too late to protect them from being beaten,’ said Devaki.
‘Lady Devaki,’ announced Rishabha, ‘sister to High King Kamsa, queen to Kunti, the kingdom across the river Yamuna.’
Nishanta and Kubera glanced at one another, then bowed to Devaki.
‘Two more chairs for the men,’ said Devaki. Again the guards marched out, and marched back in with a brass chair each.
After they had all been seated, Jahnavi told Kubera, ‘Lady Devaki would like to make a trade with us.’
‘What kind of trade?’ Kubera eyed Devaki with suspicion.
‘The right kind of trade,’ said Devaki coldly. ‘Where both you and I benefit equally. For one, it will save you from the gallows you are about to ascend in two nights.’
‘Why should you try to save us, Your Highness? You hardly know who we are.’
‘On the contrary, I know much more about you than you think. Jahnavi and I have already spoken about this last night, so if you two have the patience to listen, let me speak for a few moments, and then we shall all answer one another’s questions.’
She looked up at the guards and nodded, at which they bolted the door shut. She allowed a moment to pass, then turned to Kubera and Nishanta, and began to talk. Jahnavi listened, and at moments when Devaki threw an expectant glance at her, nodded in affirmation.
Next to her, Rishabha stood straight, arms crossed, and gazed into the distance.
After Devaki stopped talking, she signalled for a jug of water. Nishanta and Kubera looked at each other. The latter fingered the black wound on his shoulder.
Then he said, ‘My lady, if all that you say is true, why do you not escape the prison yourself? Why aid three people to escape when you can do the same just as easily?’
Devaki took her time sipping the water. She wiped the corner of her mouth with the tip of her forefinger. She may have been a prisoner for years, but she had lost none of the royal poise.
‘First, I do not wish to run away from my brother’s prison. I expect to exact my revenge on him. Second, if we do run away, we have nowhere to go but to Shurasena or Kunti. Kamsa will come chasing after us. And those kingdoms do not have an able ruler now. They have not been training their armies, I know.’
‘You could go north, seek refuge in Hastinapur. Pritha reigns as queen in that city, does she not?’
‘Ah, Hastinapur is Pritha’s marital home. I should not be welcome there.’
‘But I hear Bhishma is a kind—’
‘I hear the same,’ said Devaki sternly. ‘But I sh
all not go to Hastinapur seeking protection from my own brother. Life here in the prison is not that different from life in a palace. My brother looks after us well. Better than they would at Hastinapur, I am certain.’
Kubera nodded, but Jahnavi could see that he was far from convinced.
‘Whereas with you three,’ said Devaki, ‘Kamsa would not know where to look. He would certainly not send an army behind you all the way up to Meru.’
‘That is what worries me,’ said Kubera. ‘What if the king gets angry with the guards here, my lady, when he comes to know of our escape? What if he punishes your guards? Would that not jeopardize the plan you have hatched to save your child?’
Devaki looked up at Rishabha, who met her glance. ‘You need not worry about us. We have our own strategies to cope with Kamsa’s anger.’ She smiled with a touch of sadness in her eyes. ‘Besides, I have seen my brother kill my child. His anger does not scare me any longer.’
‘Are all the guards here on your side, my lady?’
‘No, not all. Just the six of them, but six is all we need, because six is the number of guards who get stationed here every night. And tonight, we shall have the six that are on our side.’
‘All six are trustworthy?’ Nishanta looked up at Rishabha.
‘Yes,’ replied Devaki. ‘All six know and all six understand.’
‘What are the chances that we will run into people once we exit the prison?’
‘It depends on which way you go. We are at the northern tip of Mathura, perched upon what they call Bhargava Hill. The western gate is swarming with sentries, especially at night.’
‘What of the northern gate?’
‘The northern gate has just been strengthened,’ said Devaki, ‘thanks to your considerable efforts. You will find watchtowers, and you may even spot a few flaming arrows flying your way. If you make yourself visible.’
The Queens of Hastinapur Page 10
