MAHABHARATA SERIES BOOK#2: The Seeds of War (Mba) (30 page)

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Authors: Ashok K. Banker

Ambika waited tremulously in the lamp-lit bedchamber. She had been instructed by the daiimaas and by Queen Mother Satyavati herself. She herself also understood the importance of doing this task. Without coition, she could not conceive an heir to the throne and that could mean the downfall of the Puru empire. She wanted very much to bear an heir. But she regretted that it could not be Vichitravirya’s seed that impregnated her. Now, according to the ancient custom she was to be seeded by another elder of the Puru lineage. She had not been told whom. From what she had understood of such matters, it would most likely be some elder of the dynasty. The only one she knew of was Bhishma Pitama. She hoped it would be he. Ever since the day he had abducted her sisters and she from their swayamvara, taken that hail of arrows on his body and fought like a god to protect them, she had lusted for him. He was the epitome of manhood. She had loved Vichitravirya because he was the brother of Bhishma, and he had turned out to be a wonderful husband and lover in his own right. But since Vichitravirya’s passing, it had been Bhishma who appeared in her fantasies at night as she longed for another man to hold and claim her. Now, her fantasies were about to become reality. She waited with tremulous anticipation. She had been bathed and scented and now lay in diaphanous garments barely sufficient to cover her sensual nakedness. The room had been dimly lit and scented diya lamps provided just enough warm illumination to see by while maintaining a sense of mystique.

She heard someone’s footfalls on the wooden floor of her bedchamber and frowned. She had not heard anyone enter the chamber. The tiny metal foil decorations woven into the drapes by the entrance would have sounded musically had anyone brushed past them. But these footfalls seemed to begin inside the chamber itself. How was that possible? Still, it could only be the one who was appointed to cohabit with her so out of deference and respect, she remained still and lay on her bed, waiting.

The drapes covering the bed parted and the weight of a man’s body pressed the bedding down. At once, she smelled a rank, masculine odour pervade the air. She could not help but sniff and wrinkle her nose in disgust. She was accustomed to the odours of a man’s body, after all she had spent seven long years with Vichitravirya engaged in coition on more occasions than she could count, rarely out of his company. But this was something she had never experienced before: it smelled like the ripe stench of a jungle animal. Then the heavy body moving across the bed came into her field of vision and she almost screamed.

The man who crouched above her, glaring down in the dim light, was no less than an animal of the forest. He was dark as night itself and clearly unwashed for a long time. His hair was so densely matted it seemed to have always been that way. In stark contrast to his black skin, his hair was the smouldering red of copper. He was thickly bearded but unlike Bhishma Pitama’s lustrous handsome beard, this was a wild undergrowth of chaos, coloured a tawny brown shade. His eyes were large yet penetrating, as if he meant to kill her in the most horrible way imaginable, and his bony arms and limbs were large, the size of a giant’s rather than a man. It was as if some asura had appeared in her most private space, his intention to brutally assault and murder her.

She struggled against the urge to scream, shutting her eyes. So long as she shut her eyes, she could pretend that he was Bhishma Pitama or some other elder, and that she was doing her duty as a queen. The rank odours of his body still filled the air, making her want to pinch her nose but she kept her eyes shut and lay as still as stone, praying for this act to be ended as soon as possible.

‘Will you not look at me?’ he asked. His voice was gravelly and rough, and as he touched her body, parting the folds of diaphanous garment that barely concealed her nakedness, his hands were as rough as his voice.

She opened her eyes briefly, struggling to put on a mask of pleasantry. She knew that she was supposed to welcome him, to greet him with honour and respect for he was an elder of the line and performing a duty under dharma. But the second glimpse of him unnerved her even more than the first, and she gasped, shutting her eyes and laying her hand across that part of her face, unable to bear the sight. His hand stopped upon her bare body and she felt him react to her disgust with a stern sense of disapproval.

He seemed to wait for her. She knew he was waiting for her to open her eyes again, to look up at him and reassure him with a smile, a kind word, a caress. Anything. But she could not do it. The very thought of being taken by this wild creature was too much for her. After the virile beauty of Vichitravirya and her fantasies of the magnificent Bhishma Pitama, it was unimaginable that she had to submit to this…beast!

Yet she knew the act had to be performed.

After a moment, the hand began moving upon her body again, but this time, there was no gentle caress or affectionate stroke. He simple bared her nakedness to the air, almost tearing open the layers that would not part readily, and climbed above her, positioning himself suitably. At the moment before he invaded her most intimate privacy, she shuddered and squeezed her eyes shut even more tightly, until tears ran out the sides and down her temples. She refused to open them and look up at him again as he parted her legs and entered her.

Vyasa’s face was grim as he appeared before Satyavati. She found his ability to appear and disappear at will unnerving but did not comment on it. She sensed something changed in his mood. She waited for him to speak and when he did not offer to do so on his own, she felt concerned and asked aloud: ‘Did it go auspiciously? Will she conceive an heir as desired?’

He did not meet her eyes as he responded. ‘The son she births will have the strength of a thousand elephants, the knowledge of as many rajarshis. He will experience good fortune, great progress, and be valiant and wise.’

She felt a great burden lift from her heart. Smiling, she said, ‘That is wonderful news! Then the line of Puru is saved!’

He went on in the same tone as if she had not spoken, ‘In time, he will sire a hundred sons of his own. There will be no shortage of heirs in the Puru line henceforth. If anything, there shall be too many.’

She laughed, thinking he was jesting. ‘Too many! There can never be too many heirs in a royal line.’ Then she saw his face remained as rigid and unmoving and felt another twinge of concern. ‘All is well, is it not? The goal we desired has been accomplished successfully. Then why do I sense such ambivalence on your part, my son?’

He turned to look at her. She saw his eyes were sorrowful, angry and vexed. ‘Your daughter in law refused to look at me during the act. She kept her eyes shut. Clearly she found me ugly and undesirable.’

Satyavati’s hand rose to her mouth, shocked. ‘But…what does that mean? She still conceived, did she not?’

He nodded once, grimly. ‘Not willingly.’

She swallowed, suddenly afraid. ‘But you said her son would be a great man, a great king even… So this will not affect the heir, will it?’

He looked at her silently for a moment longer, then said, ‘He will be born blind.’

She staggered back, her hand to her chest. ‘Blind! But…’ Her voice caught and she found herself unable to speak for a moment. With an effort she regained her voice. ‘But how can a blind son be king? It is not possible under kshatriya dharma. He must confront and overcome his enemies face to face in order to earn respect. Without the power of sight, he will be an object of ridicule and scorn!’

Vyasa did not say anything.

Her mind in turmoil, Satyavati thought of the choices available to her.

Finally, she spoke up decisively. ‘You must cohabit with my other daughter in law, Ambalika. Conceive a son upon her. I ask this of you by the bond that binds us together eternally.’

He nodded once. ‘I shall do as you ask, mother. But prepare this one carefully. She must accept me willingly and with joy. The state of mind of the mother is vital to the creation of a suitable son.’

Satyavati nodded. ‘It shall be done.’

But once again there was a mishap.

Ambalika reacted similarly to her sister. In fact, as the youngest and most protected, she was so deathly frightened at first sight of Vyasa, she turned white as milk with shock. This time, Vyasa was incensed and angered by her reaction. He told her, ‘Because you have turned white on seeing me, therefore your son shall be born white-skinned and unnatural among men. He shall have your beauty, but his skin shall be without hue, marking him out as unique in a world of wheat-coloured and crow-black people. He shall be derisively known as Pandurang, The White One, by all men.’

When Satyavati heard this news, she was shaken to the core. Her magnificent plan to save the dynasty seemed to be worsening the situation rather than resolving it. Vyasa told her, ‘Pandurang the White shall in his turn sire five great sons, who shall be famous and remembered to the end of human history. I have done my part, mother. I cannot help it if your daughters in law were unwilling to cooperate and do their part as well.’

Satyavati acknowledged his words. ‘What you say is undeniable, Krishna. But even this will not suffice. The Puru line cannot be ruled by either a blind king or one who is so physically deformed in appearance as to earn the derision and laughter of his people. You must father another son upon one of my daughters in law.’

He bowed his head. ‘I shall always serve you, mother. But this time, prepare them well.’

But the third time, when Vyasa went to Ambika’s bedchamber, he found another woman in her place, bedecked in her garments and ornaments and lying in her bed. He knew this was not the queen he was to mate with, and yet this woman was wholly willing and eager to cohabit with him. Pleased at her reaction, the son of Satyavati united with her with great pleasure and they both achieved mutual satisfaction in the act. After the night was over and daybreak came, he rose to leave her, saying, ‘Bhagyavan, I know that you are not Queen Ambika but her maid servant. No matter. Henceforth, you shall no longer be a maid nor shall you serve anyone. You shall bear a great and virtuous son, who shall be the aspect of dharma itself upon this mortal plane. Indeed, though I sired him in body, in spirit he shall be Yama-deva himself reborn, the lawful son of the Lord of Death and Dharma.’

So saying, he disappeared. When Satyavati heard that her daughter in law had substituted her maid and that though the son born to the girl would be a great man and an incarnation of Yama himself, she despaired of resolving the problem of progeny in this manner. She thanked Krishna Dweipayana Vyasa profusely for he had played his part perfectly in this matter. Vyasa disappeared for the last time but before he left, he said these prophetic words:

‘The seeds sown in the wombs of these Queens of the Puru line could well yield a harvest of great heirs and descendents in this great House. But they may also be the seeds of a less desirable outcome, due to the lack of cooperation of your daughters in law. Be cautious in the extreme, mother, for I fear that they may be the seeds of war.’

With these terribly prophetic words, Vyasa vanished.

THE ASHOK K. BANKER MAHABHARATA SERIES

CONTINUES WITH

VOLUME 3

THE CHILDREN OF MIDNIGHT

OUT SOON FROM