Chanur smiled, his body relaxing as the tension of the ferocious fight gradually left his body. He mounted his horse and looked on as a group of soldiers lifted the wounded warrior to rush him to the infirmary. This was Chanur, the leader of one of the most ferocious warriors in Mrityulok.
Chanur was amongst the foremost warrior kings of his time, and was respected not just by his own kinsmen, but also by most of the other kings in Mrityulok. While the Yavana kingdom was farther from the others countries of Bharat than any other kingdom in Mrityulok, the influence of Chanur and the Yavanas was felt all around the great land of Bharat.
It was to this land that the Dark Lord sent the bonara. The midget monster knew that the pisaca had already done what their master had instructed him to do in Banpur with King Bana. The bonara was supposed to do the same with King Chanur. Strong and fearless as he was, the task still had him worried; because if Chanur caught him doing what he was supposed to, there would be no mercy. The Yavana king would surely kill him there and then. But more than the fear of Chanur, the Bonara was terrified of what the Dark Lord would do to him if he failed. The memory of the kalakanja dissolving in front of his eyes was still vivid in the bonara’s mind. He did not want to invite the same fate upon himself by failing his master the second time. He recalled the Dark Lord’s instructions. ‘Wait for the dark before you enter the king’s palace. Don’t let anyone see you and don’t kill anyone. Everything should seem normal when the day dawns.’ And he remembered his master’s final words, with a shiver of fear. ‘Don’t disappoint me this time, my friend.’
The bonara crept out of Chanur’s palace. His body was quivering with the excitement of having completed his mission successfully. It hadn’t been as difficult as he had supposed. Getting into the palace had been ridiculously easy. The Yavana guards slept soundly and no one had heard or seen him slip inside the palace and then into Chanur’s personal quarters. It had taken all of a minute to locate the jar of water in the king’s room. Another few seconds and the colourless powder was emptied into the jar. Sometime during the night or the next day, Chanur would drink from that jar of water. After that, the mighty Yavana king will no longer be his own master, thought the bonara with a smug smile. He knew the contents of the powder would change Chanur in ways that were possibly not even completely known to him. Though he did know one thing with certainty: once Chanur drank that water, the potion mixed in it would render him powerless in the hands of the Dark Lord. One of the most powerful kings in Mrityulok would become a pawn in the hands of their master, just like King Bana possibly had by now, and like several others would, in days to come.
Madhuvan Has a Visitor
he frenetic activity at the royal palace in Madhuvan hinted at the fact that some major personage was expected. Even the normally staid and calm Ugrasena seemed a little hassled. He had already badgered Prasenjit, his external affairs minister, twice since morning, to ensure that everything was in order for the expected guest. The best carpets had been pulled out to adorn the pathway starting from the outer gates and leading up to the palace. The king’s personal bodyguards had turned out in their finest attire; their wooden sandals brushed till they gleamed like steel. The swords and shields had been rubbed several times with oil to make them glisten with the brilliance of the sun. The ceremonial flag of Madhuvan, reserved only for the most influential visitors, had been taken out and was held up proudly by Airawat in his right hand. His left hand had been covered carefully to prevent people from staring at the severed limb.
‘What’s all the fuss about?’ asked a young soldier who had been newly inducted into the legion of the king’s personal bodyguards. ‘Why is everyone so hassled?’
One of the older bodyguards, a veteran who had served Ugrasena for the past fifteen years, looked at him kindly. ‘Speak softly, son. The king of Magadha is visiting Madhuvan.’
‘The king of Magadha? You mean Jarasandha?’ the young man was in awe, his voice louder than he had intended.
The veteran looked sharply at the young bodyguard. ‘Sshhh!’ he exclaimed roughly. ‘It’s King Jarasandha!’ He looked around cautiously. ‘Never repeat the mistake of calling him by his name, even when you are talking among friends. If he finds out, he will have you hanging from a tree before you even realize what happened. Many people have died in the past for lapses far less serious than this,’ he whispered gravely.
The young man felt a shiver run down his spine. He had heard about Jarasandha’s dark nature but had never believed most of it. It was said that Jarasandha had conquered more kingdoms than any other king of their time. But unlike most conquerors who let the vanquished rulers manage their kingdoms in return for a hefty royalty, Jarasandha didn’t let any of the defeated kings taste freedom once he subjugated them. There were a horde of overthrown kings locked up in dungeons in his capital city. Some of them had already died in confinement and the ones who hadn’t yet, wished they had.
‘Wh-why did our prince marry Jarasandha…King Jarasandha’s sisters, if he is so evil?’ he asked the veteran in a shaken voice.
The veteran sighed. The young man would get him killed along with himself if he persisted with this chatter. He spoke in hushed tones, ‘Our prince married King Jarasandha’s sisters in order to form an alliance with the kingdom of Magadha. He knew the marriage would bind the king of Magadha to the kingdom of Madhuvan. King Jarasandha would never attack his own brother-in-law, you understand.’ He looked at the young man hoping fervently that this would stop the naïve man from asking any more dangerous questions. He groaned as the young man opened his mouth to ask yet another question.
‘But why would Prince Kansa be afraid of the king of Magadha? He is strong enough to fight anyone. And the army of Madhuvan can take on any nation.’ There was unmasked pride in his voice as he spoke of Kansa and their army.
The veteran could not help admiring the younger man’s faith in Kansa and in the Madhuvan army, but he knew his colleague didn’t know Jarasandha well enough to have made that statement. He spoke gently, ‘Son, Prince Kansa is a great warrior. Perhaps the greatest our land has ever given birth to. But you do not know King Jarasandha.’ The veteran’s voice dropped to an involuntary whisper, ‘The king of Magadha has defeated various kings who were considered invincible till they fought with him. And the army of Magadha is ten times the size of our army. They can eat us for breakfast if they decide to fight us. King Ugrasena did well to marry our prince to King Jarasandha’s sisters. We are safe now!’
The young man looked like he wanted to ask more questions. But the veteran gave him a tight-lipped glare that clearly indicated he was in no mood to entertain any more questions about the visitor from Magadha.
Airawat bowed respectfully as Jarasandha passed him. The king of Magadha was just a little over one gavuta (six feet) in height. Airawat was no stranger to tall men. But Jarasandha was built like an ox. He had a crop of curly, short hair, unlike other kings who preferred to keep it shoulder length. There was a touch of grey around his temples but other than that, Jarasandha looked like a man in his prime. He exuded a strange animal force that was sufficient to cow down even the most intrepid warrior. His eyes, darkened with kohl, took in everything around him, including the one-armed Airawat holding the ceremonial flag of Madhuvan.
He smirked, as if laughing at a private joke. ‘So Madhuvan has started recruiting handicapped men in their army now?’ he commented sarcastically, pointing at Airawat’s severed hand.
Airawat bristled in anger but he was careful to conceal his emotions. He wasn’t afraid of Jarasandha but he did not want Madhuvan to get into trouble because of him.
Airawat’s suppressed resentment did not escape Jarasandha’s attention. He raised his eyebrows, ‘Do you want to say something to me, soldier?’ he sneered. He was sure this would provoke Airawat because the markings on his uniform clearly indicated that he was no ordinary warrior but the commander of the Madhuvan Cavalry. Referring to him as a mere soldier in front of his subordinates might i
ncite him into doing something brash, which would give Jarasandha sufficient cause to squash him.
But the Magadha ruler had misjudged Airawat’s self-control. The commander took a deep breath to calm himself, ‘No My Lord, I did not want to say anything. I just want you to know how honoured we are to have you here at Madhuvan.’
Jarasandha glared at Airawat, annoyed that he had not been given an opportunity to vent his anger. Airawat returned his stare unflinchingly, but took care not to let his defiance show in his expression.
‘Hah!’ Jarasandha snorted in disgust, and continued past Airawat to enter the palace, where Ugrasena and the other members of the royal family were waiting for him.
Airawat continued to stare at the back of the man some said was the most feared in all of Mrityulok. All of a sudden, a premonition that something terrible was going to happen gripped him. But he couldn’t explain why he felt that way. All he knew was that it concerned Jarasandha and their beloved Prince Kansa in some way.
Jarasandha and Ugrasena were seated in the latter’s private court where Ugrasena met his personal guests. The minister of external affairs, Prasenjit, was also present. Jarasandha had told Ugrasena that he was here only to meet Kansa as he had heard about the near fatal wounds the prince had received recently. Ugrasena quickly filled him in on what had happened. Jarasandha’s face was a mask of rage as he heard about the battle on the Shiva temple hill. He calmed down only when Ugrasena assured him that Kansa was almost recovered from his injuries and would be with them soon.
There was an uncomfortable silence as they waited for Kansa to join them. Ugrasena had never got along well with the king of Magadha. He found the violent nature of Jarasandha revolting and he had to consciously restrain himself from showing his disgust at how Jarasandha was treating the several kings in his captivity. Jarasandha was not too fond of Ugrasena either and he tolerated him only because the old king’s son was married to his sisters. However, the main reason behind his hatred for Ugrasena was that the old king had initially rejected Jarasandha’s proposal of marrying his sister Prapti to Kansa. Jarasandha’s thoughts were involuntarily pulled back into the past…
Prapti had once been a beautiful woman but she had been involved in an unfortunate accident where the right side of her face had been irreparably burnt. Jarasandha had used a combination of bribery and threats with various kings in order to persuade them to marry his sister but nothing could persuade any of them. One look at her charred face was enough to scare away any potential suitor. Jarasandha made it a point to attack the kingdoms of all the kings who had rejected his sister’s hand. These vanquished kings were currently languishing in his dungeons at Magadha. Yet, even the spectre of being defeated and imprisoned by Jarasandha was not sufficient to sway the kings to agree to a marriage to Prapti. Jarasandha loved Prapti and he had been at his wit’s end about what to do.
Around this time, his friend Chanur, the king of the Yavana kingdom, suggested that Jarasandha approach Ugrasena and seek Kansa’s hand in marriage for his sister. Chanur knew Kansa well and had a feeling that he would agree to marry Jarasandha’s sister. The king of Magadha agreed to talk to Ugrasena, even though he wondered why the dashing young prince of Madhuvan would consent to marry his sister when he could have the most beautiful princess in the land of Bharat as his wife. When Jarasandha indicated to Ugrasena that he was keen to have Prapti married to Kansa, Ugrasena was horrified. He emphatically rejected the proposal. However, Chanur who had accompanied Jarasandha, diplomatically suggested that Ugrasena should at least talk to Kansa about it. While Ugrasena was not keen on doing this, he knew that an outright refusal to even discuss this with Kansa might enrage Jarasandha to the point of waging a war that would result in the death of thousands of innocent men and women. He told Jarasandha that he would talk to Kansa about the proposal only on one condition.
‘What is the condition?’ Jarasandha growled suspiciously.
‘If Kansa refuses to marry your sister, you have to promise that you will not attack Madhuvan,’ Ugrasena replied firmly.
Jarasandha was about to refuse this condition when Chanur intervened. ‘Jarasandha will not attack Madhuvan. I guarantee it. Let Kansa take his decision without the fear of any reprisal.’
Ugrasena did not budge. ‘I respect your word Chanur, but I would like to hear Jarasandha say the same thing.’
Chanur acknowledged what Ugrasena had said with a nod, and both of them looked at Jarasandha, whose face reflected his anger at Ugrasena and his own indecision on the condition. At last, he reluctantly nodded his head in agreement, ‘Let Prince Kansa decide. Whatever his decision might be, I swear that I will not attack your kingdom!’
Ugrasena sighed in relief, sure now that there was no cause for concern. He called for Kansa, his mind comfortable in the knowledge that Kansa would never agree to marry the deformed sister of this evil king. When Kansa arrived, Ugrasena calmly told him about Jarasandha’s proposal of marrying Prapti to him.
Kansa listened intently to everything that Ugrasena had to say. Then he turned his attention to Jarasandha. ‘Does Princess Prapti give her consent to marry me?’
Jarasandha was stunned at this question. This was the last thing he had expected Kansa to ask. However, he recovered quickly and nodded. ‘Prapti would be honoured to marry you, prince…that is, if you agree to marry her.’ He paused and added, ‘She…uh….her face is badly disfigured. You should know that before you decide.’ Jarasandha looked expectantly at Kansa, hoping beyond hope.
Kansa nodded, acknowledging what Jarasandha had said. ‘I understand that even if I refuse to marry her, you have sworn not to attack Madhuvan. Is that correct?’
Jarasandha’s face fell. He nodded curtly, regretting having made the promise. He knew Kansa would decline his proposal and his sister would once again have to face the ignominy of rejection.
Kansa continued to look into Jarasandha’s eyes. Despite his anger, Jarasandha could not help being mesmerized by the young man who exuded such confidence and strength.
‘Then I agree to the marriage,’ Kansa said softly, his eyes not leaving Jarasandha’s face for even an instant.
‘W-What?’ Jarasandha was shocked. He wasn’t sure if he had heard Kansa correctly. Ugrasena also looked bewildered.
‘I said I agree to the marriage. I would be honoured to have Princess Prapti as my wife,’ Kansa’s tone left no doubt about his decision.
Ugrasena could not control himself any longer. ‘But son, Jarasandha has promised he will not attack Madhuvan even if you refuse his proposal. You don’t need to do this.’ Ugrasena’s unhappiness and perplexity at Kansa’s decision was evident.
Kansa smiled for the first time since he had entered the room. ‘Father, my decision to marry Prapti has nothing to do with the fear of Magadha attacking us. On the contrary, if the king of Magadha had threatened to attack Madhuvan, that would have been the only reason I would have rejected this proposal.’
Jarasandha embraced Kansa. ‘You have won me over today, prince. From this day on your friends will be my friends; and your enemies shall have to face my wrath before they can hope to harm you.’
Ugrasena looked on helplessly. He still couldn’t fathom why Kansa had agreed to the marriage. There were a multitude of thoughts racing through his head but his reverie was broken by something that Jarasandha was saying to Kansa.
‘Noble prince, you are the first man who has agreed to marry my sister Prapti, and that too, without the fear of any threats. I have another request for you. Please grant me this favour too.’ Jarasandha’s voice was pleading, perhaps for the first time in his life. Kansa motioned him to continue.
THE CURSE OF BRAHMA Page 12
