The Aryavarta Chronicles Kurukshetra: Book 3

by Krishna Udayasankar

  ‘We’re going in the wrong direction,’ he said after some time. ‘We didn’t walk for so long when we came in…Oh!’ The exclamation came as he walked right into a stationary Uttara. The force propelled them both into the wall ahead, Uttara having the presence of mind to brace herself with her hands instead of being driven into the wall. Breathing hard, for more reasons than the close call, the two stood in the darkness.

  And then, Abhimanyu whispered, ‘Uttara…’

  His throaty voice sent a shiver through her. Afraid that she might just give in to the sensations she felt at that moment, Uttara began to frantically run her hands over the stone that blocked their way, searching for the small catch that would release the door set into it.

  ‘Uttara, I…’ Abhimanyu bent down to take in the smell of her hair, grazing her neck with his chin. Closing her eyes, Uttara began to lean back into his chest. She tried hard to think of the numerous matters of importance in the world outside, the impending war – or not – among them, but right then politics seemed a distraction. Everything seemed a distraction except Abhimanyu, except the feeling of being held by him, against him. Her hands retreated from the stone; she meant to sink them into Abhimanyu’s thick hair, but at the last instant her right hand grazed against the door catch and her finger hooked around the small mechanism. Abhimanyu pulled her gently to him. Before she could let go of the catch, it gave with a click and the stone door slid open.

  9

  UTTARA DID NOT KNOW WHAT EMBARRASSED HER MORE – THE fact that she had nearly given in to her attraction for Abhimanyu, or that she had done so in front of a familiar but nonetheless amused audience. Panchali and all four of Dharma’s brothers – Bhim, Partha, Nakul and Sadev – were looking at her and Abhimanyu in gleeful surprise. In Uttara’s typical fashion, though, what irked her the most was her fundamental error in thinking that the room they had used to enter the secret passage would remain unoccupied till they came out. She did the only thing she could think of to deflect their attention or any comments they might be inclined to make. Springing out from the corridor as though it was the most natural way of entering a room, she said, ‘He’s back. Commander Govinda is back. He has already met with Emperor Dharma. He…’

  Uttara stopped short as she realized that the only thing that could embarrass her more had come to pass. Govinda Shauri stood, unnoticed, leaning against the doorway. In a manner that immediately explained where Abhimanyu had acquired the traits that irritated her, he teased, ‘You’re remarkably well informed, Princess.’

  ‘Father…err…Uncle…’ Abhimanyu greeted Govinda, his usual confusion at not knowing how to address his elder drawing a warm smile from the others.

  Govinda studied him briefly, his emotions inscrutable, but then turned away to address Panchali with unmistakable warmth, ‘Yes, I met Dharma Yudhisthir. I’d expected you to be there, Empress.’

  ‘You’re hurt,’ she responded.

  ‘It’s nothing,’ Govinda said, pleased that she had noticed. He had not thought she had looked at him when he entered, though he could never hold back from looking at her.

  Meanwhile, Uttara had regained her composure, having taken advantage of the moment to close the entrance to the secret passage, but Abhimanyu was doing his best to avoid everyone’s eyes, especially his father, Partha’s. Stifling her laughter at their actions, Panchali turned to Govinda and said, ‘We all thought it best that you and Dharma have a conversation alone. It went well?’

  ‘It did. We need to start sending our emissaries out at once, see who is willing to ally with us. And that,’ Govinda turned to Uttara and Abhimanyu, ‘brings us to you. I have a task for you two, one that I cannot entrust to anyone else…’

  ‘Of course!’ Abhimanyu was eager. ‘What would you have me do?’

  ‘I can’t tell you yet, Abhimanyu. It’s a secret.’

  It was only an instant of hesitation as Abhimanyu looked from Govinda to Partha and the others, wondering what it was that Govinda would not speak of in front of them all, but it was enough for Uttara. ‘Let him be, Commander,’ she said, disdainful. ‘I will see it done. Unlike someone here, I lack neither courage nor trust…’ She threw every bit of venom she could muster into the words, desperately trying to redeem herself of the attraction she had felt a short while ago. It helped, for Abhimanyu’s eyes narrowed and settled into a cold glare.

  Govinda looked at Panchali, hoping for some indication as to what he ought to do next. She shook her head, a sign that he should wait. He did. At length, Abhimanyu said, ‘I will go. You know I will, and you know I’ll do as you say. But this woman…’

  ‘…is coming with you.’ Partha spoke, his tone indicating that he would have no argument.

  ‘What!’

  ‘Why not?’ Uttara countered.

  ‘Father, you can’t…’

  ‘Commander, you know I…’

  ‘…be serious about…’

  ‘…would never question…’

  The others began laughing, forcing the young couple into a simmering sulk. After a while, Govinda cleared his throat and explained, ‘I can’t have your absence questioned, nor would it help for everyone to know where you have gone. And so we are going to announce that you two newlywed lovebirds plan to spend some time together, visiting various temples and places of pilgrimage while preparations are made for war.’

  ‘That sounds silly,’ Uttara complained.

  ‘I agree,’ Abhimanyu said. ‘Who in their right minds would go off on a jaunt while there’s a war in the offing?’

  Eyes twinkling, Govinda said, ‘Love makes us all do silly things, Abhimanyu. Besides, it provides us with decent excuses to do so.’ In a more serious tone, he added, ‘It’s not just the two of you who shall be off on a jaunt. Nakul, Sadev, I need you to go see your uncle, Shalya of Madra. I too will need to make some diplomatic visits of my own.’

  ‘Are we mustering forces?’ Bhim asked.

  ‘We are,’ Govinda replied. ‘You can be sure Syoddhan has already done the same. Except…’

  ‘Hmm?’

  ‘Sooner or later, he will be pushed to war. As will we. You can’t kindle a fire and then expect it not to burn. The more we prepare for war, the more we make it a reality. Yet, it would seem, to prepare for war may also be the best and possibly the only way to avoid it.’

  Partha asked, ‘Do you mean to avoid it, Govinda?’

  ‘Should I, Partha? Do you think your brother’s right to rule this Empire is worth the bloodshed? What about you, Bhim? How many lives are too many, against your need for vengeance?’ Govinda waved the statements away, while Bhim and Partha stared, lost for words. ‘Never mind. There are no sane answers to such questions. Now, I’m starving. Who’s ready for the morning meal?’ Without waiting for an answer, he wrapped an arm each around Uttara and Abhimanyu and led them out of the room.

  Once they were gone, even the usually recalcitrant Nakul was driven to words. ‘I don’t get it,’ he said. ‘If the intent is only to get Syoddhan to think we want to attack, so as to force him to make peace with us…I’m not sure the kind of muster Govinda has in mind gives that impression. I mean, sending us to meet Uncle Shalya is an obvious step, but what he wants those two young ones to do… Who does he want them to meet?’

  ‘I don’t know,’ Bhim said. ‘If you ask me, Govinda is being defensive. Maybe he thinks war is inevitable.’

  Partha said, ‘You heard him…To prepare for war only enhances the possibility of it.’

  ‘It is also the only means towards peace,’ Bhim pointed out. ‘No one wants to fight a war they cannot win. All we need to do is show Syoddhan that this war is not in his interests. Remember how we built the Empire? We just had to get the right kingdoms to swear their allegiance to us, and the rest fell into order of their own accord. It’s no different now.’

  ‘Unless,’ Sadev added, ‘there is more to it?’

  ‘Of course there’s more to it,’ Panchali said. She stood up and casually settled her pleated robes
into place as she spoke. ‘I’m surprised that you can’t see the obvious, Sadev. What would a man like Govinda Shauri value above all?’

  Sadev shook his head, ‘I can’t say, Panchali. Who in Yama’s name can be sure what Govinda wants?’

  Panchali did not reply, relishing what was at once the quiet comfort and the unbearably heavy burden of understanding Govinda Shauri. She was vaguely aware that the conversation continued till for lack of finality it was abandoned. A voice – she thought it was Bhim – called out to her a couple of times, but she remained as she was, gazing sightlessly into the distance.

  The room emptied. Panchali realized she had been holding her breath, though she did not know why. She let it out in a rush, a tired sigh escaping with it before she could control herself. Not wanting to be alone for another instant, she made her way back to the room she shared with her husband, Dharma Yudhisthir, to get ready for the day ahead.

  10

  SUDAKSHIN THE SECOND, KING OF KASHI, RULED FROM A CAPITAL that was new and spectacular. That in itself would have made most men in his position happy, but not Sudakshin. The young king found the brightness of the walls oppressive and the gleam of the polished floors blinding; the freshness of it all filled him with disgust. He felt immensely comfortable in the deep lower levels and darks corners that had escaped renovation, though these bowers held no trace of the past, or what had been there before. All that remained was burnt rubble and soot-stain, traces of that which had destroyed the past. It was enough for Sudakshin, for what he nurtured in his heart was not nostalgia; it was hatred. For the moment, he found satisfaction in taking it out on the man before him. Wrapping his strong fingers around the kneeling messenger’s neck, he squeezed with all his rage, feeling his bitterness soothed by the gagging noises that left the victim’s throat.

  The demonstration both pleased and astounded his visitor. Devala Asita’s eyes sparkled with obvious delight as he said, ‘I thought he was your man?’

  ‘He was,’ Sudakshin replied, not bothering to add the obvious: that the news the messenger had brought him had not been to his liking. He turned to the commandant of his personal guard, the only other living man in the dungeon-like room besides himself and the Firewright, and ordered, ‘Go, see if he was telling the truth. And if he was…’

  ‘Don’t be hasty,’ Devala cut in. ‘This is not the time for whatever squabbles you may have with your mother. Syoddhan offers you a chance for vengeance against those who killed your father and burnt down your city. After all these years, don’t lose it over small matters.’

  ‘Small matters? You call my mother spreading her legs for the man who killed my father a small matter? Then what would be a big matter, Firewright?’

  ‘Ruining Syoddhan Kauravya’s plans by killing a petty spy would be a big matter. It would not only warn Dharma Yudhisthir and his allies that we know what they are up to, but also…’

  Sudakshin turned on Devala. ‘And what plan is it that you want me to whore out my mother for…Acharya?’ He added the honorific with reluctance, but did not dare insult the man; especially not after he knew the great heights to which Devala had nearly raised his father, Sudakshin the First.

  ‘The plan of getting Dharma to think that you and your considerable might will be at his disposal. By the time he realizes you mean to ally with Syoddhan, it will be too late for him to do anything but surrender. Your father understood the importance of discretion, Sudakshin. Unfortunately, he let his fondness for a woman, and I say fondness advisedly, blind him. Don’t make the same mistake.’

  Sudakshin bit his lip, fighting the urge to retort. Women, he seethed with contempt, thinking of the cause of his father’s downfall. Always women. First that Kritya, and now my own mother… Traitors all! But she is my mother… Out loud, he said, ‘I want confirmation. I want to know. You, what are you waiting for?’ He addressed the last words again to his commandant. The man left with a deep bow and a look in his eyes that Devala recognized as long-held lust, but Sudakshin did not. Devala thought to warn the young king, to tell him that his commandant was not a man to be trusted – not fully. Then he decided against it. Whether in peace, or in war, he doubted that Sudakshin or his commandant would live long.

  His task done, Devala took his leave of Sudakshin. As he rode out of the city, he could not help but glance back at the palace, wondering which of its many sparkling lights came from the Queen’s room, and what was, in fact, going on there.

  It was whispered, in frightened rather than amused tones, that no one in Kashi was ever happy to answer a knock at their door and find the King’s commandant standing there, not even the commandant’s own wife. The young handmaiden attending on the Queen was no exception. She lowered her eyes in a futile bid to avoid attention, but nevertheless felt the commandant’s lecherous gaze sweep over her. With a sigh she resigned herself to the inevitable summons to his bed that she knew she would soon receive. Before that, though, was the matter at hand, undoubtedly more urgent and infinitely more important to them all.

  ‘I wish to see the Queen,’ the commandant declared, expecting to be let in.

  The handmaiden, mustering her love for her mistress as courage, blocked the doorway with her slender frame. ‘Her Highness is not in a position to receive you, my lord,’ she said.

  ‘I insist on knowing why.’

  ‘S…surely, Her Highness is not answerable to the commandant?’

  ‘No, but a handmaiden is.’ The commandant stepped forward, menacing. ‘Do you need me to teach you your place? I assure you, I’d enjoy doing so…’

  ‘My lord, I merely say what I have been ordered to.’

  ‘And I order you now to tell me why the Queen cannot see me. Failing which, I have no choice but to force my way past you… For all we know, the Queen could be in danger while you and I discuss proprieties.’

  ‘My lord, I…’

  ‘Get out of my way, girl!’

  Speechless and tearful, the terrified handmaiden hung on to the door as though her life depended on it.

  Her pitiful stance did nothing to deter the commandant. ‘Arrest her,’ he instructed the soldiers with him.

  The men moved, the young woman screamed, and sounds of a scuffle emerged from further inside the Queen’s room.

  ‘What the…’ the commandant cried out and, pushing aside the handmaiden, barged into the room.

  He had hardly set foot inside when an imperious voice ordered, ‘Stop! Tell your men to get away from that girl this instant!’

  ‘Your Highness…’ the commandant prepared to argue, but fell speechless as his breath caught in his throat.

  The Queen was an attractive woman, all the more so for the single length of cloth she held up to cover her obvious nudity. The commandant felt the intoxicating mix of awe and desire swarm his brain, a sensation quite different from the entitled lust that he exercised with every other woman in the kingdom, barring Sudakshin’s chosen concubines. If, however, the Queen were found guilty of treason….

  ‘Well?’ the Queen interrupted his pleasant imaginations. ‘You wanted to know why I could not see you, commandant. I trust that question has been answered?’

  Some of the accompanying guards shifted uncomfortably, but the commandant remained resolute. ‘Forgive me, Mahamatra. But an intruder has been sighted within the palace.’

  ‘Are you suggesting, commandant, that this intruder is here? In my rooms? While I am…in this state?’

  ‘Mahamatra, there is no doubt he…that is…he was seen…’

  The Queen raised a slender finger, silencing him. She then said, ‘Think very carefully before you speak another word. Remember that whatever you say next, you will repeat in front of my son when you report this matter to him, as you must. Is it your intent to tell him that his mother, the Queen Mother of Kashi…?’

  The recent demonstration of Sudakshin’s rage was fresh in the commandant’s memory and flickered as uncertainty in his eyes. He cleared his throat in a prelude to an argument, but finding n
othing further to say, he waved his men out of the room. Then he bowed and strode out the way he had come, taking his time in an effort to emphasize his diminished presence. The handmaiden remained motionless, relieved that she had been forgotten for the present. She waited till the sound of the soldiers’ retreating footsteps had faded into the distance before running to close the door and bolt it shut.

  The Queen sighed and let her shoulders slack. The cloth she had been holding dropped to the floor. The handmaiden was weeping with fright, a sight which filled the Queen with displeasure, not for the poor girl but for the man who had placed them in this position. She turned around to face the tall figure seated in a chair, one leg crossed and resting on the other knee. ‘How stupid can you get? Muhira!’ she said. ‘If he’d taken just one more step forward, the commandant would have seen you!’

  A deep voice replied. ‘I doubt that very much, Mahamatra. I’d say you had his complete attention.’

  11

  THERE WERE, THE QUEEN OF KASHI KNEW, MANY EPITHETS ONE could use for the man who sat before her. Once he had been called the Conqueror of Kashi, but in her son’s reign he was simply ‘The butcher’ or ‘The man who burnt down Kashi.’ To her he would always remain the man who had never asked her her name despite all the time they had spent together decades ago. It was, she had finally understood, a sign that there were certain boundaries in their relationship that he would not cross, not even if she invited him to. When he had left, his task done, he had not looked back. Until today.

  The Queen knew he was here for a cause, and to entertain him or the cause was tantamount to treason against her son, the King. She studied the still-weeping handmaiden, well aware of what it was the girl continued to fear as inevitable. She made up her mind as to what to do next as she consoled the girl and dismissed her off to her bed. She turned to the visitor, giving voice to the mild anger she felt towards him.

  ‘Really,’ she chided him, ‘would it have killed you to hide?’

  He replied, ‘Would it have killed you to keep your clothes on? I refused to sneak off behind drapes and cower under tables; you think there’s any honour in hiding behind…’