Govinda (The Aryavarta Chronicles) (25 page)

Soon, a new line of fire blazed up. Driven by the wind, it began sweeping forward as a wave of flame that headed away from
them. As the huge inferno chased them from behind, the fire Govinda had created cleared the way in front at the same speed.
At last, a glimpse of daylight and the bright sky. They were at the edge of the forest. As they burst into the bright sunlight
and out of the clutches of Kandava, Govinda allowed himself a small smile at the irony of their escape.
After all that has happened, Agni the refulgent finally serves my need
.

‘
PANCHALI?’ GOVINDA ASKED THE MOMENT HE WOKE
.

‘She’s fine,’ Dhaumya said. ‘She was up briefly but has gone back to sleep.’

Govinda sat up in bed, groaning slightly at the stab of pain in his side.

On a couch nearby Shikandin woke with a start but relaxed when he saw Govinda sitting up.

‘I should have known you’d be here, Shikandin,’ Govinda said. ‘You’ve been waiting for the chance to get me naked in bed forever
…’

Shikandin pointedly ignored Govinda, and looked at Dhaumya.

‘He’ll be fine. I’ll sit with him,’ Dhaumya reassured him. Turning to Govinda, the scholar said, ‘I’m sure you won’t be surprised
to hear that this fellow hasn’t budged from your side. In fact, he fell asleep late last night only after I slipped him a
draught in his wine.’

‘I knew it!’ Shikandin exclaimed. ‘Govinda, Panchali, me … You make your sleeping draughts by the bucketfuls, don’t you?’

‘All right, all right! I’ll apologize, if it’ll make you go get some sleep.’

‘Sleep?’ Shikandin exclaimed. ‘And let you two do all the talking? No way! If he’s fine, then he’d better answer a few questions.
You can save your apology.’

He sat up, swinging his long legs down to the floor and leaning forward, elbows on his knees. ‘Before you ask, Govinda … You
got back to Hastina the day before yesterday, in the evening. Partha arrived some time before you and Panchali did, so we
were able to sneak you both in and keep things quiet. Barring Dharma and his brothers, and Subadra, pretty much no one else
knows she was involved. You’ve both slept straight through yesterday and most of today. Panchali was up a few hours ago, but
has gone back to sleep. I think she must have inhaled some hallucinogenic vapours, along with the smoke. Her memories are
garbled. In fact, she hardly remembers anything at all.’

‘Kandava?’

‘Razed to the ground,’ Shikandin confirmed, ‘except for the small tract bordering Kuru’s Fields, north of the river. That
canal you ordered to be dug worked. But, I must say, that was one huge fire …’

Govinda sniggered, ‘It wasn’t for nothing that Bhisma sent for the Gandiva and arranged for Partha to have it. The Grandsire
would’ve loved to get his hands on it years ago, but has had to settle for letting Partha have the weapon and the fame that
goes with it. The old man won’t forgive him, or Dwaipayana, too easily for that!’

Dhaumya pensively added, ‘Dwaipayana goes on and on about how Partha, son of Indra himself, was able to defy the gods and
destroy impregnable Kandava.’

‘And Syoddhan?’ Govinda asked, with narrowed eyes. He knew that Syoddhan’s reaction was crucial to how many others in Aryavarta,
including Emperor Jarasandha, would react to the whole matter.

‘He seems to be all right,’ Shikandin replied. ‘My spies tell me that his spies tell him that they – that is, his spies, not
mine … What?’ he asked, feigning great seriousness as Govinda began to laugh.

Govinda addressed Dhaumya, ‘Are you sure it was just a sleeping draught you slipped into his wine?’

‘Oh yes,’ the scholar confirmed. ‘His stupidity is merely congenital.’

‘If you weren’t a learned man, and you, if you weren’t injured – I’d have done you both some damage, I swear,’ Shikandin said.
‘But as it stands, I’ll live with the satisfaction of having irked you, which is what I was hoping for. Getting to the point
…’

‘Finally …’

‘I said, getting to the point, Syoddhan knows Takshaka and his people are all right, that they left Kandava in time. I hear
he’s conveyed as much to his dear friend, the Emperor. Beyond that, even Jarasandha concedes that this remains an internal
matter of the Kurus.’

Govinda said, ‘Frankly, the whole affair should make Syoddhan happy. After all he’ll now have Hastina for himself to rule.
I’m certain that both Bhisma and Jarasandha would have found that an argument persuasive enough to turn a blind eye to my
… erm … activities.’

‘True, but I’m not sure it’s enough to make you Syoddhan’s best friend, though …’

‘If you’re trying to break my heart, Shikandin, I’m afraid it’s not working,’ Govinda quipped.

The three men shared a round of laughter, cut short as Govinda winced.

With a meaningful glance at Shikandin, Dhaumya pulled back the covers to take a look at the bandaged spot on Govinda’s side.
‘We haven’t told anyone about this,’ he said.

Govinda responded with a noncommittal nod and lay back in the bed, revelling in the fresh, crisp scent of the silk covers.
After all the soot and smoke, it was a relief to feel clean again.

‘Well?’ Shikandin prompted, not in the least distracted.

‘Would you two believe it was a common spear?’

Neither of the men bothered to respond and Govinda had little choice but to continue, ‘The Bramha-weapon …’ he was terse.
‘Except that …’

‘Hmm?’

Govinda searched for the right words to explain. ‘The poison in the Bramha-weapon is supposed to work by pulling images out
of your subconscious mind, causing hallucinations, a confused view of reality. It works best on a crowd or group, usually
because it leads to chaos – soldiers killing their armies, people burning down their homes … But this … what I felt, it was
more than chaos …’ He shivered slightly at the memory.

Dhaumya said, ‘Do you realize that it’s unheard of to survive a direct attack using the Bramha-weapon? It’s renowned for never
failing, even against those trained to resist it, if the arrow or blade with the poison pierces the skin.’

‘It seems to have failed this time …’ Shikandin pointed out.

‘Then it wasn’t the Bramha-weapon,’ Govinda declared. He wondered whether he ought to mention how he had managed to fight
off the hallucinations, but then decided against it. Instead, he turned to Dhaumya, ‘Did you have a chance to examine the
poison? There must have been some left in me …’

‘Yes, I had to bleed you a little to get it out. The contents were similar to the Bramha-weapon, but not the same. In any
case, this wasn’t some simple Ganjika herb. Surviving this weapon, Bramhaastra or not, was no small feat. You’re either a
tough man or a fortunate one. Maybe both.’

Govinda ignored the compliment, and the implied question.

‘A new weapon made from a new poison,’ he said solemnly.

‘Agniveshya?’

‘Yes. This was Agniveshya’s work, all right. I can only suppose he was trying to recreate the Bramha-weapon with new ingredients,
ones that were more readily available. He must have ended up with this instead – a poison that draws on your deepest fears.
It magnifies them, exaggerates them, it makes you relive them. Except it is worse than reality. It’s the most horrible way
to die that I can think of. Yabha!’

A strained silence met his statement, and despite the warm orange-red beams cast by the setting sun on the white marble floor,
a gloom seemed to descend over the three friends.

At length, Shikandin ventured, ‘At least we know how his killer found it so easy to get to him. It’d be dangerous and pointless,
too, to keep Agniveshya alive if there was nothing more to be gained from him.’

Govinda looked from one downcast face to the other and said. ‘Unfortunately, all we have is our guesswork … But I’ll make
do with that for the moment.’ He indulged in a prolonged stretch and an ostentatious yawn, making his two friends laugh and
bringing back cheer to the conversation.

At last, when they had settled down, Shikandin said, ‘Conspiracies, and more conspiracies. I wonder, Govinda – you and Dwaipayana
– who’s the master and who’s the puppet?’

‘These are tangled skeins, Shikandin. I believe that I’m master of my own self and Dwaipayana believes the contrary. Is one
of us wrong? Perhaps we’re both wrong and someone else holds the strings …’

Shikandin groaned his protest and mumbled something about waking up when Govinda was done philosophizing.

Govinda laughed. ‘Let me see, how can I put it in a way that might
interest … what was it … one with congenital stupidity, such as you? Ah! Got it!’ He inclined his head to one side, and said
in a cheeky tone, ‘It’s like the difference between a courtesan’s seductions and those of a mistress.’

Dhaumya stood up with a smile, saying, ‘This is not a conversation for my innocent ears. I am, after all, a man of renunciation.
I ought to leave before you two debauched men corrupt a pious soul.’

Shikandin raised a disbelieving eyebrow, first at Govinda and then at Dhaumya, who was now at the door. ‘You’re joking right
…?’

The scholar waved it off, saying he had other things to attend to anyway, and left.

‘Where were we?’ Govinda said, the moment he was gone. ‘Ah, yes! When a clever courtesan comes across a debauched and foolish
possibility, like Prince Shikandin of the Panchalas, she knows that to keep his interest she’ll have to constantly surprise
him, entertain him, vary the prize she offers. But the really ambitious courtesan, whose aim is to become Prince Shikandin’s
official mistress, will play the game differently. There is just one prize, an immensely desirable prize. That does not vary.
But she keeps you on edge by never letting you know how close you are to winning it. Just when you think you’re almost there,
she’ll pull away … not completely, mind you. Just enough to make you go all silly and chase her again.’

Shikandin forced a serious expression on to his face, though he longed to laugh. ‘I’m sorry, Govinda, I don’t understand,’
he said solemn. ‘Are you seducing Dwaipayana, or is he seducing you? I didn’t realize you found him attractive, by the way
…’ He tried to maintain his stolid seriousness, but soon burst out in a loud guffaw.

Govinda joined in heartily, saying, ‘Good thing our dear friend left …’

‘But you’ve made your point,’ a slightly breathless Shikandin conceded at length.

Govinda shrugged as he added, ‘Of course, it is possible that Dwaipayana uses me in ways I don’t even see … I’m no puppeteer,
and I don’t think I’m a puppet. Well, I hope I’m not.’

Shikandin stretched himself on the couch, hands behind his head.
He stared at the vaulted ceiling for a while and then said, ‘What if, Govinda … what if everyone is a toy?’

‘You mean in the hands of fate? Hu! I didn’t realize you of all people were Dwaipayana’s faithful, all these years!’

‘You know I don’t believe in fate. I believe in the Eternal Universe and its perfection, but not in fate.’

‘Then?’

‘I mean, ultimately, who holds the strings? You act based on what
you
think Dwaipayana seeks to achieve … What if Dwaipayana has let you think as you do so that you act as you do? And then, of
course, what if you’ve let him think that if he lets you think as you do, you’d act thus, when actually … you see what I mean,
don’t you?’ Shikandin finished.

‘True …’ Govinda admitted. He sat up in bed, cross-legged, pulling the silken sheet in place around his bare hips. ‘I’ve been
bathed,’ he suddenly noted.

‘Indeed you have, and by a rather attractive handmaiden too. But that’s beside the point.’

‘I was going to say,’ Govinda continued, ‘that there is no point.’

Shikandin nodded, but said nothing, leading to a short, comfortable lull in the conversation. Eventually, Govinda began, sounding
grim now, ‘Shikandin, what can you remember about the time when we were in Kandava … I mean, when you and I …?’

Shikandin regarded his friend with concern and hesitation. ‘The poison … it stoked things hidden deep in your subconscious
mind, didn’t it, Govinda? It’s been, what, almost seventeen years? You’ve never asked me about what happened, until today.’

‘I’m asking now.’

With a soft grunt Shikandin sat up again. He gazed out of the window at something in the distance. And then, without looking
at Govinda, he began in a matter-of-fact tone, reciting his recollection of events. ‘There were twelve of us, including you
and me. We picked up the trail from the ruins of Ghora’s village, near Mathura. It took us four days to make it to the heart
of Kandava and another day to locate exactly where they were keeping Agniveshya …’

‘He was there, wasn’t he?’ Govinda interrupted.

‘Yes, he was. He was working underground in what looked like a forge, but lived in a nearby hutment. We saw him being taken
down by the guards and resolved to attack the next time they brought him out to the surface.’

‘And then … we attacked, didn’t we? I remember we attacked …’

Shikandin nodded. ‘Something was wrong. The Nagas standing guard over the trapdoor hurriedly pulled Agniveshya out. He was
screaming. That’s when we attacked, the twelve of us.’

Govinda nodded, trying to piece things together in his mind. ‘I went for the trapdoor, didn’t I?’

‘Yes.’

‘Why did you pull me back, Shikandin?’ Govinda asked. ‘You pulled me back and gave the order to retreat. Why?’

‘The forge was on fire, Govinda. You would’ve jumped in at any moment.’

Govinda simply stared at Shikandin. For the tiniest moment his eyes were blank, holding no emotion. He shut them in an effort
to remember and forget, both. And then, his usual composure, his cool, unflappable, commanding presence was back. After a
while, he asked, ‘Why didn’t we take Agniveshya with us? We could have ended it all that day, if we had taken him with us
…’

Shikandin cleared his throat and stated as plainly as he could, ‘He asked to be left behind. He was … badly burnt and in great
pain. He asked me to leave him my dagger, and I did. Perhaps he had no intention of killing himself or, perhaps, he was recaptured
before he could take his own life.’ He waited, knowing that Govinda had every right to berate him for the slip. Especially
since it had now come back to haunt them.

Govinda sighed. ‘You’re not the only one who’s made such mistakes, Shikandin. Yesterday … no, the day before, I saw him –
Devala Asita. I suppose I should be happy that I’ve flushed the snake out of its hole. Or I could regret that I didn’t kill
it in the first place.’

Shikandin was grim. ‘Does Dhaumya know?’

‘No. And I’d rather not mention it. Dhaumya won’t ever acknowledge him as a brother … Not after what he’s become.’