‘It was done, master. Possessed by the aatma, the maharaja delivered the orders to send the army to Gandahar and Kaikeya, just as you desired. They left this morning.’
And that leaves Ayodhya defenceless now?
‘As utterly as a common whore! Your forces can ride into the city with no fear of substantial opposition!’
Substantial? Does that mean that there might be some opposition after all?
‘Nothing worthy of concern, great one. Just the PF garrison. Old doddering veterans and raw green recruits. You could hack through them single-handedly!’ She added with a smirk, ‘And I will be here to sabotage their pathetic efforts and hasten their collapse. Ayodhya is yours for the taking, my master!’
So it seems.
She hesitated; then, when she realised that nothing further was forthcoming, she said cautiously, ‘Swami, may I ask when you propose to invade?’
The fire sprang out at her, catching her unawares. It put out both her eyes, poking fingers of flame into her eye-sockets. Her visual organs bubbled and boiled in her skull. She screamed with the pain.
Concern yourself with matters of your own level, hag. I don’t discuss my strategy with my own wife Mandodhari; why should I reveal it to you!
‘Forgive me, my lord!’ she babbled. Trickles of eye-fluid ran into her open mouth, sizzling. ‘I meant no offence! I merely thought perhaps I could serve you better if I knew—’
You can serve me by completing the mission I entrusted you with before this one.
‘Swami? You mean the poisoning of Dasaratha? I did my best, my master. But the seer is always vigilant for attacks on the maharaja’s person. Now more than ever.’
Then attack him from a direction the seer does not foresee and cannot prevent.
‘How, my lord? I am feeble of mind, but if you instruct, I will follow dutifully.’
Use his own family against him. Put the last phase of our plan into action now. Use Kaikeyi to attack Dasaratha. If we can’t poison his body, we shall poison his mind.
‘Your wish is my command, swami! I have prepared her well for precisely this moment. I shall send her at once.’
Not at once, you fool. Wait awhile. I will let you know when the time is right. Meanwhile, continue to breed discontent between the other members of the royal family. You did well to separate Kausalya and Sumitra. They had grown sickeningly close to each other and to the maharaja. Focus your attention there and keep Kaikeyi ready for the final step.
‘It shall be as you say, my master. I shall—’
The fire died out. Manthara could feel its absence, as well as the absence of the king of the asuras. He had left her presence. She rose shakily to her feet, and made her way blindly to the door. It was only when she was leaving the secret chamber that she realised that her sight had been restored. Her self-inflicted wounds had been repaired as well. It took great pain and damage to summon up the lord of the asuras, but once he was satisfied with the acolyte’s devotion, he always healed the damage through his mastery of Brahman. She shuddered to think what might happen if some day Ravana failed to be pleased by her efforts and left her in that state of agony. She put the thought out of her mind and focused on the task at hand.
She would need that wretched serving girl again. Where was the wench?
As the hunchbacked daiimaa scurried out of her apartment in the Second Queen’s palace and down the long torchlit corridors, she failed to notice the pair of eyes observing her discreetly.
The eyes were almond-shaped, as delicate as a doe’s, and as pure and gentle. But on this occasion, they were also filled with righteous conviction and distrust. Third Queen Sumitra stepped from the alcove where she had lain in wait for the past few hours. After a glance back to make sure that Manthara was well away, she entered the daiimaa’s apartment and began to search.
***
The two Kshatriyas had managed to clean themselves off in the river as best they could. They were both still sulky and silent, and Janaki Kumar kept shooting fiery glances at Rama and Lakshman as if they had been responsible for the mishap. It was all the princes could do to keep from laughing again.
When they were presentable again, Janaki Kumar rose swiftly and said, ‘Rajkumar Rama, my companion and I have had a change of heart. We desire to go directly to Mithila rather than camp overnight with you and then journey tomorrow.’ He added gruffly, ‘Our business is urgent and we would rather not waste time sleeping when we could be halfway to Mithila by dawn.’ Lakshman raised his eyebrows. ‘You mean to journey by night?’
He addressed his question to the taller Kshatriya, Nakhu Dev, but it was Janaki Kumar who replied again, speaking for both of them. The slender Kshatriya’s tone was sharp enough to cut glass. ‘Rajkumar, I’ll have you know that the raj-marg to Mithila is the safest in the Arya nations. A virgin could walk naked clad in the finest jewels and arrive at the capital unmolested.’
Lakshman’s mouth fell open. ‘Do they usually do that? Travel naked clad in fine jewellery down the raj-marg? I had no idea Mithila virgins were that adventurous!’
Janaki Kumar glared up at Lakshman. His veil was still crusted with drying mud, causing it to droop in some places and cling in others. ‘It was meant to be a figure of speech.’
‘Ah, but I hear Mithila virgins have fine figures too! You really know how to provoke a man’s imagination.’ Lakshman looked up at the sky and whistled. ‘I’ll be dreaming all night of naked virgins prancing down the raj-marg!’ He added mischievously: ‘Clad in fine jewellery, of course. By the way, would that be silver or gold?’
Janaki Kumar turned haughtily to Rama. ‘Is your brother prince always this offensive when referring to women, Rajkumar Rama? Or does he derive some insidious pleasure from insulting Mithila women in particular?’
Rama smiled apologetically. ‘Lakshman was just making a jest, friend. You mustn’t take offence at his innocent remarks. He’s always been something of a mischief-maker.’
Lakshman raised his arms. ‘That’s me! Master of mischief and good times!’ He grinned and winked at the two Kshatriyas. ‘Don’t Mithila Kshatriyas tell jokes about their women? Or would you prefer that I joke about Ayodhyan women instead? They look quite splendid too when walking naked down the raj-marg clad in fine—’
Rama broke in hastily. ‘Lakshman, go see if Guruji is inclined to meet our new friends formally. Quickly, before it’s time for us to perform our evening rituals.’
Lakshman shrugged good-naturedly and sauntered off upriver towards the brahmarishi.
Rama turned back to Janaki Kumar. Suddenly, Nakhu Dev emitted a choking sound. People twenty yards away turned to look at him curiously. The enormous Kshatriya coughed apologetically into his fist.
‘Forgive me, rajkumar. I just now pictured Rajkumar Lakshman’s description of naked virgins prancing down the rajmarg, and …’ The warrior paused, his face twitching beneath the veil. ‘It is quite funny, you have to admit, Janaki.’
‘Nakhu Dev,’ his shorter companion retorted sourly, ‘if you’re going to start getting giddy-headed and join in that chauvinistic jesting, maybe you’d rather join the Vajra Kshatriyas instead of journeying to Mithila with me. Nakhu?’
He put a peculiar emphasis on the last word, making Rama wonder if that was the taller Kshatriya’s real name or just an alias. And why did the shorter man insist on being called by his full name, Janaki Kumar, even by his travelling companion? They were surely an odd couple!
He was about to suggest to the Kshatriyas that they at least join them for the evening ritual and some hot supper before setting off when Lakshman returned, followed closely by a Vajra rider.
It was Sona Chita, the acting lieutenant of the Vajra. He had ridden close to the river to avoid the slanting, slippery slope of the right bank. He reined in as he approached them, saluting smartly.
‘Rajkumars,’ he said, his horse’s hoofs splashing as it pranced in the shallow water of the river. ‘Brahmarishi Vishwamitra requests your presence back at the camp to perform the evening rituals. And Captain Bejoo requests you not to wander this far from our sight again.’
Lakshman snorted. ‘Tell Bejoo-chacha we’re not little boys with runny noses any more. We can take care of ourselves now, as you probably witnessed up on the hills a while ago.’
Sona Chita grinned. ‘No argument on that account, Rajkumar Lakshman. But the captain takes his responsibility very seriously. These are unfriendly woods and there’s no telling what might assail you.’
Rama gestured to Lakshman not to retort again, and said to the Vajra Kshatriya, ‘Thank you for the message. We are turning back towards camp.’
Sona Chita saluted smartly and turned his horse around, splashing water energetically. He raised the reins to give the horse its head then added belatedly:
‘And the brahmarishi also said to make sure our new Kshatriya friends join us. He insists that they share our humble hospitality tonight.’
As the Vajra lieutenant rode away noisily, Rama found himself feeling oddly pleased. The Kshatriyas wouldn’t be able to refuse the brahmarishi’s invitation; to do so would be to insult him grossly. It would give him a chance to spend more time with Janaki Kumar. He didn’t know why, but he found the slender Kshatriya’s company and conversation strangely pleasing. He was looking forward to talking to him about several topics of minor interest.
Just then he happened to glance at Janaki Kumar. He was surprised at what he saw. The expression in the Kshatriya’s eyes couldn’t have been more sour if he had just bitten into an imli ka butta.
The two rajkumars and their black-clad companions made their way up the riverbed, bare feet crunching softly on the gravel. None of them noticed the eyes watching them from the shadowy depths. Four pairs of them, all softly glowing like fireflies in the lush darkness. As they went around the curve of the riverbed, four pairs of snouts, three small and one large, pushed their way through the bush they were standing behind.
One of the bear cubs made a low mewling sound, reaching up to pluck what looked like a clump of blueberries from the bush. It put the clump in its mouth, chewed, then growled and spat out the mouthful, only a few yards behind the sentry, who continued downriver slowly, swinging his pike. The mother bear slapped the cub on its snout, eliciting a babyish mewl.
The female turned her snout in the direction the two rajkumars had gone and sniffed several times, as if trying to memorise a certain scent.
Then she opened her jaws slightly and emitted a sound that sounded curiously like human speech, except gruffer.
‘Rama,’ the bear said tenderly, the affection and gratitude in her voice unmistakable. ‘Rama.’
‘Rama,’ repeated her cubs obediently. ‘Rama.’ All except the smallest one, who was still snuffling over being cuffed by his mother. His sister nudged him.
‘Vaba,’ he said sulkily.
FIVE
The company was too large to be accommodated at one fire. They had done the next best thing: building a dozen fires in a circular formation. The riverbed at this point was wide, almost thirty yards across, and the fires were perhaps five or six yards apart. The Siddh-ashrama Brahmins had seated themselves in such a manner that everyone faced inwards but slightly to the north. The result was a roughly circular congregation of seated Brahmins all converging towards a point at the top of the circle, not the centre. Brahmarishi Vishwamitra sat on a rock at this focal point, his staff lying behind him.
On the outer rim of the circle of Brahmins sat the Vajra Kshatriyas, forming a protective perimeter. Captain Bejoo stood almost apart from the whole group, his face still clouded with conflicting emotions, sharpening the blade of his shortsword with a pumice stone. He glanced up sourly as the rajkumars joined the congregation, nodding perfunctorily. He spat a mouthful of blood-red tobacco-stained paan juice every now and then to the side, evoking irritated stares from the nearest Brahmins, who disapproved of tobacco consumption in any form.
Everybody seemed quite comfortably settled by the time Rama and Lakshman arrived and took their places. Rama scanned the assembled faces quickly but couldn’t see Janaki Kumar and Nakhu Dev right away. The two princes made their way through the ranks of Brahmins, seated cross-legged with their hands on their knees. Several Brahmins were standing by the fires, supervising the cooking. The smells coming from the enormous pots were delicious and Rama could see the younger acolytes waiting eagerly to be fed. Except for a little fruit and water on the journey, nobody had eaten since that morning.
They found a space reserved for them right up front, immediately before the boulder on which the sage was seated. The Kshatriyas were there already. All four of them seated themselves cross-legged and waited for the brahmarishi to begin speaking. Rama found himself seated diagonally opposite Janaki Kumar, and for some reason found his attention drawn to the slender Kshatriya’s face. The mercenary had performed the evening ritual with them, and his piercing eyes caught the firelight in a way that was oddly hypnotic.
Janaki’s eyes were surprisingly bright, brighter than anyone else’s in the congregation that Rama could see. They had seemed dark and soft earlier in the sunlight, but now they had a way of catching the light and holding it within that was fascinating to see. Like the eyes of predators which caught light at night-time, except that his eyes were neither feline nor feral. They were very human and very striking, filled with a glowing intensity that collected every sight, every observation around, sparing nothing. Rama found himself compelled to glance often in the lad’s direction until the sage began speaking. Janaki seemed not to notice at first, but at one point, when Rama glanced that way suddenly, he found the Kshatriya watching him with the cool, studied gaze of a fisherman watching a dolphin race alongside his boat—neither as a potential catch nor as a threat, simply watching. Janaki raised his gaze to meet Rama’s eyes, their views locked, and it seemed to Rama that a faint flicker of a smile passed over the youth’s face. But it was hard to tell with the veil.