‘But how else does one establish one’s standpoint, dada?’ asked Kartik. ‘There are times when reason does not work, and peaceful efforts prove inadequate. Violence is ultimately the last resort. This is the way it has always been. The world will, perhaps, never be any different.’
Ganesh shook his head. ‘It will be, one day. We live in the age of the Kshatriya. That’s why we think that the only currency to bring about change is violence.’
‘Age of the Kshatriya? I’ve never heard of that.’
‘You would have heard of the four yugs, cyclical eras that time traverses repeatedly through a never-ending loop: the Sat yug, Treta yug, Dwapar yug and Kali yug.’
‘Yes.’
‘Within each of these yugs there are smaller cycles dominated by different caste-professions. There is the age of the Brahmin, of the Kshatriya, of the Vaishya and of the Shudra.’
‘Age of the Brahmin, dada? I haven’t heard of that either.’
‘Sure you have. All of us have been told stories of the Prajapati; of a time of magic.’
Kartik smiled. ‘Of course! Knowledge seems like magic to the ignorant.’
‘Yes. The main currency of the age of the Brahmin was knowledge. And in our age, it is violence. Some philosophers believe that after our epoch will be the age of the Vaishya.’
‘And the people in that age will not use violence to establish their writ?’
‘Violence will never die, Kartik. Neither will knowledge. But they will not be the determining factors, since it will be an age dominated by the way of the Vaishya, which is profit. They will use money.’
‘I can’t imagine a world like that, dada.’
‘It will come. I pray that it doesn’t take too long. Not that I’m afraid of violence, but it leaves too many grieving hearts in its wake.’
‘Dada, even if I do believe that such a time will come, are you saying that money will cause less devastation than violence? Will there not be winners and losers even then? Will sadness disappear?’
Ganesh raised his eyebrows, surprised. He smiled and patted his brother on his back. ‘You are right. There will always be winners and losers. For that is the way of the world.’
Kartik put his arm around his brother’s waist as Ganesh put his around Kartik’s shoulders. ‘But that still doesn’t take away from the grief of knowing that we have caused suffering to others.’
‘This may sound strange to you,’ said Shiva, reclining in the comfort of the Lothal governor’s residence. ‘But I feel as if I’ve come home. Meluha is where my journey began.’
Just as Kali had expected, the Lothal governor, Chenardhwaj, had broken ranks with the Meluhan nobility and opened the doors of his city for Shiva’s army, pledging loyalty to the Neelkanth.
‘And this is where it’ll end,’ said Sati. ‘Then we can all go and live in Kailash.’
Shiva smiled. ‘Kailash is not as idyllic as you imagine. It’s a difficult, barren land.’
‘But you will be there. That’ll make it heaven for me.’
Shiva laughed, bent forward and kissed his wife lovingly, holding her close.
‘But first, we need to deal with those who defend the evil Somras,’ said Sati.
‘That has already begun with the defeat of the Magadhans.’
‘Hmmm... that’s true, we can easily blockade the Ayodhyan navy, now that Magadh is firmly in our control. When will Ganesh and Kartik leave for Meluha?’
‘They have left already.’
‘And when do we leave for Mrittikavati?’
‘In a few days.’
Sati had learnt to recognise the resolute expression Shiva now wore and couldn’t help feeling a twinge of anxiety for her homeland. ‘For their own sake, I hope they surrender.’
‘I hope so too.’
Chapter 25
God or Country?
‘By the great Lord Brahma!’ growled Bhrigu.
Bhrigu had finally reached Devagiri. He had been delayed on the recently-built road between Dharmakhet in Swadweep and Meluha, by the floodwaters of an overflowing Yamuna, which had submerged the pathway. While he was stuck in this no-man’s land between the Chandravanshi and Suryavanshi empires, Bhrigu availed of the facilities of the traveller’s guesthouse, built by the Meluhans alongside the road. Not that its comforts calmed him though, for he needed to be in Devagiri. What did alleviate his stress was the arrival of Parvateshwar, along with Anandmayi. They travelled together from there onwards, and Bhrigu used this opportunity to discuss battle strategy with him. The flooding of the Yamuna had transformed what should have been a quick journey of a few weeks, into many months.
Bhrigu, Daksha, Parvateshwar and Kanakhala conferred in the private royal office of Devagiri, examining the ramifications of the Neelkanth’s proclamation.
‘May I see the notice, Maharishiji?’ asked Parvateshwar.
Bhrigu handed over the stone tablet and then turned to Daksha and Kanakhala. ‘When were they put up?’
‘A few months ago, My Lord,’ said Daksha.
‘At all major temples in practically every city within the Empire,’ added Kanakhala.
‘And was this a simultaneous event, orchestrated on the same day?’ asked Parvateshwar, obviously impressed by the logistical feat.
‘Yes,’ said Kanakhala. ‘Only the Neelkanth could have organised this. But why would he do it? He loves Meluha and we worship him. We therefore assumed that it had to be someone else who was trying to slander the reputation of our Lord. Sadly, we still haven’t made any headway in our investigation and do not know who the real perpetrators are.’
‘Do you have traitors in your administration, Your Highness?’ asked Bhrigu.
Daksha bristled, but did not dare make his anger apparent. ‘Certainly not, My Lord. You can trust the Meluhans like you trust me.’
Bhrigu’s ironic smile did not leave much to the imagination. ‘What do you make of it, Lord Parvateshwar?’
‘I would have expected nothing less from the Neelkanth,’ said Parvateshwar.
Kanakhala was stunned by this revelation, but prudently chose silence.
‘But I must tell you that we responded well, My Lord,’ said Daksha to Bhrigu. ‘They were removed within a few days and were replaced with official notices stating that the earlier ones had been put up by a fraud and should not be believed.’
Kanakhala reeled from shock. She had inadvertently sinned when she put up the new notices that Daksha had asked her to, and become party to a lie. She considered resigning from her position. However, it was obvious that a war was imminent. And her war-time duties were clear: complete and unquestioning loyalty to the king and country. She had never faced a situation where her duties stood in direct conflict with her dharma. The confusion was bewildering.
‘So you see, My Lord, this particular problem has been handled,’ said Daksha. ‘We need to now focus on how to repel Shiva’s forces.’
Bhrigu gestured towards Daksha. ‘Not now, Your Highness. Let me first confer with General Parvateshwar in private.’
Kanakhala was still lost in the turmoil within her conscience, and did not notice the exchange.
‘The proclamation was made by the Lord Neelkanth. How can we go against his word? This is wrong. If the Lord says that the Somras is not to be used, then I don’t see how we can go against this diktat.’
Parvateshwar had accompanied Kanakhala to her office after the meeting. He could tell that she was very disturbed by the events of the morning.
‘I’ve already stopped using the Somras, Kanakhala.’
‘As will I, from this instant. But that is not what troubles me. The Neelkanth wants the whole of Meluha to stop using the Somras. And the consequences of ignoring his decision are very clear from his message: if we don’t, then we become his enemies.’
‘I’m aware of that. For all practical purposes, war has already been declared. His army is mobilising even as we speak.’
‘Meluha must stop using the Somras.’
‘D
oes the law allow either you or me to pass an order banning the Somras?’
‘No, only the Emperor can do that.’
‘And he hasn’t, has he? Also, the Emperor’s orders are unquestionable in times of war.’
‘Can’t we avoid a war in some way? Why don’t you speak to Maharishi Bhrigu? He respects you.’
‘The Maharishi is not convinced that the Somras has turned evil.’
‘Then we should approach the people directly.’
‘Kanakhala, you know better than that. It would mean breaking your oath as prime minister, since you would be directly going against the order of your Emperor.’
‘But why should I follow his orders? He made me lie to our own people!’
‘I assure you that nothing like that will happen again for as long as I’m alive and in Meluha.’
Kanakhala looked away as she struggled to get a grip over her raging emotions.
‘Kanakhala, let’s say we do approach the Meluhans directly,’ said Parvateshwar. ‘We will have to convince our countrymen to voluntarily choose to end their life much before it normally would have. And we will have nothing to give them in return. Convincing people to do this is not an easy task, even with those as duty-bound and honourable as the Meluhans. It will take time. The Neelkanth, however, is not patient when it comes to the Somras. He wants its use to end right now. The only way he can do that is to attack the epicentre.’
‘Which is Meluha...’
‘Exactly. Right now our task is to protect our country. You know Lord Ram’s laws state very clearly that our primary duty is towards our country. He had said that even if it comes to choosing between Lord Ram and Meluha, we should choose Meluha.’
‘Who would have imagined that it would actually come down to such a choice, Parvateshwar? That we would need to choose between our God and our country?’
Parvateshwar smiled sadly. ‘My duty to my country is above all others, Kanakhala.’
Kanakhala ran her hand over her bald pate and touched the knotted tuft of hair at the back of her head, trying to draw strength from it. ‘What kind of challenge is fate throwing at us?’
‘It’s a stupid idea, Your Highness,’ said Bhrigu. ‘Your problem is that you do not look beyond the next three months when you dream up your strategies.’
Daksha had been sitting expectantly at the maharishi’s feet, eagerly awaiting his response. For he had just unfolded to Bhrigu his ‘brilliant’ scheme to avoid the war altogether.
An unmoved Bhrigu then leaned towards him from his stone bed. ‘We’re not fighting with the Neelkanth, but the devotion that he inspires in your people. Making him a martyr will turn your people against you, and inevitably, the Somras.’
Daksha expressed acknowledgement. ‘You’re right, My Lord. Had we succeeded in killing him in Panchavati, the people would have blamed the Nagas. That failure was most unfortunate.’
‘Also, Your Highness, while it is not unethical to attack an unprepared enemy, there are some codes that just cannot be broken, even in times of war, like killing a peace ambassador or even a messenger.’
‘Of course, My Lord,’ said a distracted Daksha. His mind, in fact, was already working on refining his plan.
‘Are you listening, Your Highness?’ asked an irritated Bhrigu.
A chastened Daksha looked up immediately. ‘Of course I am, My Lord.’
Bhrigu sighed and waved his hand, dismissing him from his chamber.
Parvateshwar strode into his house and nodded towards the attendant even as he ran up the steps that skirted the central courtyard. As he approached the first floor, he seemed to remember something and stepped back towards the landing overlooking the central courtyard.
‘Rati!’
‘Yes, My Lord?’ answered the attendant.
‘Isn’t it the day of the week when Lady Anandmayi bathes in milk and rose petals?’ asked Parvateshwar.
‘Yes, My Lord. Warm water on all days of the week except the day of the Sun, when she bathes in milk and rose petals.’
Parvateshwar smiled. ‘So, is it ready?’
Rati smiled indulgently. She had served Parvateshwar her entire life, but had never seen her master smile as much as he had in the last few days, since he had returned with the new mistress. ‘It’ll be ready any moment now, My Lord.’
‘Be sure to inform the lady as soon as it’s ready.’
‘Yes, My Lord.’
Parvateshwar turned and ran up the remaining two flights of stairs, before reaching his private chamber on top. He found Anandmayi relaxing in the balcony on a comfortable chair, as she observed the goings-on in the street below. A cloth canopy screened out the evening sun. She turned around as she heard Parvateshwar rush in.
‘What’s the hurry?’ asked a smiling Anandmayi.
Parvateshwar stopped, smiling broadly. ‘I just wanted to know how you’re doing.’
Anandmayi smiled and beckoned Parvateshwar. The Meluhan general walked over and sat down beside her on the armrest. Anandmayi rested her head on his arm as she continued to study the street below. The markets were still open, but unlike the loud and garrulous Chandravanshis, the citizens of Devagiri were achingly polite. The road, the houses, the people, everything reflected the prized Suryavanshi values of sobriety, dignity and uniformity.
‘What do you think of our capital?’ asked Parvateshwar. ‘Isn’t it astonishingly well-planned and orderly?’
Anandmayi looked at Parvateshwar with an indulgent smile playing on her lips. ‘It’s heartbreakingly lacklustre and colourless.’
Parvateshwar laughed. ‘You’re more than enough to add colour to this city!’
Anandmayi placed her hand on Parvateshwar’s as she remarked, ‘So, this is the land where I will die...’
Parvateshwar turned his hand around and held hers, in reply.
‘Any news?’ asked Anandmayi. ‘Has the Lord entered the territory of Meluha?’
‘No reports as yet,’ said Parvateshwar. ‘But what is truly worrying is the absence of bird couriers from Ayodhya.’
Anandmayi’s visage transformed as she straightened up with concern. ‘Has Ayodhya been conquered?’
‘I don’t know, darling. But I don’t think the Lord has enough men to conquer Ayodhya. The city has seven concentric walls, albeit badly designed. That is formidable defence, even if the soldiers are ill-trained.’
Anandmayi narrowed her eyes in irritation. ‘They are poorly led, Parvateshwar, but the soldiers are brave men. My country’s generals may be idiots, but the commoners will fight hard for their homeland.’
‘This reinforces my argument that the Lord Neelkanth couldn’t have conquered Ayodhya with just the one hundred and fifty thousand soldiers of Branga and Vaishali.’
‘So what do you think has happened?’
‘Clearly, Meluhan interests are not being served in Ayodhya. One possibility is that your father, King Dilipa, has aligned with the Neelkanth.’
‘Impossible. My father is too much in love with himself. He’s getting medicines from Lord Bhrigu which is keeping him alive. He will not risk that for anything.’
‘The people of Ayodhya may have rebelled against their King and thrown in their lot with the Neelkanth.’
‘Hmmm... That’s possible. My people are certainly more devoted to the Neelkanth than to my father.’
‘And if the Neelkanth has Ayodhya under control, he will quickly turn his attention to his main objective: Meluha.’
‘He aims to destroy the Somras, Parva. He will not indulge in wanton destruction. Why would he do that? It would turn your people against him. He will only go for the Somras.’
Parvateshwar’s eyes flashed open. ‘Of course! He will target the secret Somras manufacturing facility and its scientists. That would end the supply of the Somras. People will have no choice but to learn to live without it.’
‘There you are. That’s his target. Where is this secret Somras manufacturing facility?’
‘I don’t know. But I will find
out.’
‘Yes, you should.’
‘In any case,’ said Parvateshwar. ‘I’ve told Kanakhala not to send any more messages to Ayodhya. We could just be passing on information to the enemy.’
‘If Ayodhya is already in their control, and they leave now, they could be in Meluha quite soon.’
‘Yes, it could be as early as six months. Also, along with Ayodhya, the Lord would have a massive army.’
‘Redouble your preparations.’
‘Hmmm... I’ll also order Vidyunmali to leave for Lothal with twenty thousand soldiers.’
‘Lothal? Just because they didn’t send you their monthly report? Isn’t that a bit of an over-reaction?’
‘I don’t have a good feeling about them,’ said Parvateshwar, slowly shaking his head. ‘They didn’t respond to my bird courier.’
‘Can you afford to send twenty thousand soldiers away based on a mere hunch?’
‘Lothal is not too far away. Also, it’s a border town. It is the closest Meluhan city from Panchavati. It may not be such a bad idea to reinforce it.’
Chapter 26
Battle of Mrittikavati
The exhausted scout stumbled into the military tent, barely able to conceal his anxiety. Shiva jerked his head up from the map he’d been poring over, as the soldier managed a hasty salute. ‘What?’
Shot like an arrow, Shiva’s voice made Kali, Sati, Gopal and Chenardhwaj look up too, worry creasing their faces. Shiva’s army had marched in quickly from Lothal and was just a day away from Mrittikavati.
‘My Lord, I have bad news.’
‘Give me the facts. Don’t jump to conclusions.’
‘Mrittikavati is much better defended now than it had been earlier. Brigadier Vidyunmali sailed into the city a few days back. Apparently, he was on his way to Lothal to strengthen Meluha’s defences at the border. Clearly, Emperor Daksha has no idea as yet that Lothal has pledged loyalty to you, My Lord.’