The Aryavarta Chronicles Kurukshetra: Book 3 (10 page)

The recent demonstration of Sudakshin’s rage was fresh in the commandant’s memory and flickered as uncertainty in his eyes. He cleared his throat in a prelude to an argument, but finding nothing further to say, he waved his men out of the room. Then he bowed and strode out the way he had come, taking his time in an effort to emphasize his diminished presence. The handmaiden remained motionless, relieved that she had been forgotten for the present. She waited till the sound of the soldiers’ retreating footsteps had faded into the distance before running to close the door and bolt it shut.

The Queen sighed and let her shoulders slack. The cloth she had been holding dropped to the floor. The handmaiden was weeping with fright, a sight which filled the Queen with displeasure, not for the poor girl but for the man who had placed them in this position. She turned around to face the tall figure seated in a chair, one leg crossed and resting on the other knee. ‘How stupid can you get? Muhira!’ she said. ‘If he’d taken just one more step forward, the commandant would have seen you!’

A deep voice replied. ‘I doubt that very much, Mahamatra. I’d say you had his complete attention.’

11

THERE WERE, THE QUEEN OF KASHI KNEW, MANY EPITHETS ONE
could use for the man who sat before her. Once he had been called the Conqueror of Kashi, but in her son’s reign he was simply ‘The butcher’ or ‘The man who burnt down Kashi.’ To her he would always remain the man who had never asked her her name despite all the time they had spent together decades ago. It was, she had finally understood, a sign that there were certain boundaries in their relationship that he would not cross, not even if she invited him to. When he had left, his task done, he had not looked back. Until today.

The Queen knew he was here for a cause, and to entertain him or the cause was tantamount to treason against her son, the King. She studied the still-weeping handmaiden, well aware of what it was the girl continued to fear as inevitable. She made up her mind as to what to do next as she consoled the girl and dismissed her off to her bed. She turned to the visitor, giving voice to the mild anger she felt towards him.

‘Really,’ she chided him, ‘would it have killed you to hide?’

He replied, ‘Would it have killed you to keep your clothes on? I refused to sneak off behind drapes and cower under tables; you think there’s any honour in hiding behind…’

‘A woman?’ the Queen prompted.

‘A naked woman. If you’d held the commandant off with a sword, I’d have been proud to be so protected.’

The Queen faltered, taken aback by the statement. She thought for a moment and then shook her head. ‘I didn’t know what else to do. I was terrified that if you were caught you’d be… Damn you to the fires of Patala, Shikandin. Just when I find a good reason to be angry with you, you say something that reminds me why I didn’t kill you in the first place.’ Smiling, she added, ‘It’s good to see you again.’

‘Its good to see you too, Mahamatra.’ Shikandin smiled, the age-drawn lines at the edges of his eyes deepening in a way that the queen found attractive. ‘Now, if you could please put your clothes back on? I’m trying hard to be a decent man here, but I am just a man…’ he jested.

‘As if you could be anything but decent.’

‘I suppose it is a fit punishment that you keep reminding me of the opportunity I lost.’

‘No, Shikandin. It is not fair on my part, though I admit it is amusing. What you did then, your refusal to have your way with me though you stood as the conqueror of Kashi…’

‘I suppose that was when you fell in love with me?’ Shikandin teased her yet again.

The Queen laughed, throwing her hands up to admit defeat in the friendly debate. Then she began to get dressed. The moment for levity had passed. Settling her clothes in place, she turned again to Shikandin. ‘What now? Sudakshin won’t change his mind. He means to ally our considerable armies with Syoddhan. And we both know that it’s not the numbers alone that matter, but equally the message it sends through the realm. By law, Sudakshin swore his allegiance to Dharma Yudhisthir.’

‘And many would claim that by law the allegiance passed from Dharma to Syoddhan when the empire was lost. But that is not what this war is about. It is not about lost empires and shattered egos.’

‘Then? Why are you here, Shikandin? You know already that your visit is in vain as far as getting my son to ally with Dharma Yudhisthir goes. In fact, sooner or later, rumours of your visit will force Sudakshin to declare his support for Syoddhan, whether Syoddhan asks for it or not. Or…’ she tapered off into thought. ‘Is that what you want?’

Shikandin avoided the direct question. He said, ‘This is not about what I want, Mahamatra. You know I am but an instrument; I act on another’s behalf.’

‘But to what end? No one understands Panchali’s grief and outrage more than I. I do not claim to have suffered as she does, but to present myself before you the day my husband died, dressed as a bride… I can’t ever forget what I felt. I remain angry with the world we live in for putting me in that position. I suppose if I could, I too would want war to be avenged, but…’

Shikandin was visibly taken aback. ‘You think this war is about the vengeance of a woman wronged? Yes, that may well be what it will go down as in history and lore. But it is more than that. I know it is, but I don’t have the words to explain.’

‘You don’t have to explain. I understand it, as do a number of the people of Kashi, including our vassal lords. Noble though it may be, our way of life is nothing but servitude. It does not take long for servitude to turn to subjugation. Dharma Yudhisthir’s actions have established precisely that.’

‘So you stand with Dharma Yudhisthir? Though your son does not?’

‘I stand with the people of Kashi. Though, I suppose, you find such words empty when they come from privileged lips?’

‘Privileged, yes, but beautiful, too. Seriously, who am I to judge your sincerity, my queen? After all, I am just one more of these oppressive royals, part of this system that treats the people as nothing more than property. Besides…’ he added, as he saw the Queen prepare to argue further, ‘all this talk of war is premature. These preparations are nothing more than posturing.’

The Queen did not miss the disapproval in Shikandin’s voice. ‘You’re not happy with that. You’d rather fight, wouldn’t you?’

Shikandin considered her words briefly, as though the thought had not occurred to him before. ‘Yes. You’re right, I’d rather fight. Not because I don’t like or don’t want peace. And not because Panchali is my sister. Not even for Govinda Shauri. There’s someone else, someone whose rebellion – and I say rebellion and not vengeance for a reason –has been a long time coming. There is someone else I must fight for, before the end. She…she was from Kashi, too.’

‘Who?’

‘Never mind. Enough of all this talk of battle and politics. Have you got any better at playing tigers and lambs since we last met?’ Shikandin pointed to the ornate game tile and coins that sat, disused, on a small table.

The Queen said, ‘Hah! You’re the one who needed to improve. A child who plays with cowrie shells and lines drawn in the sand could beat you!’

The rest of the night passed in easy conversation and light-hearted play. A little before dawn, Shikandin stood up and stretched. ‘Send for your handmaiden,’ he told the Queen. ‘I’ll see her to safety. Sooner or later the commandant will take his anger with you out on her, and she won’t survive it. She’d be better off going back to wherever it is she came from.’

The Queen said, ‘Her village is somewhere near the border,’ she said, making her way into the antechamber where her attendants slept. She emerged with the girl in tow. ‘Go with him,’ she commanded. The handmaiden shrank away, frightened.

Shikandin reached out in an attempt to placate her, but she hid behind her mistress, whimpering like a child.

‘Where are you from?’ Shikandin asked her.

‘Answer him!’ the Queen instructed. The handmaiden mumbled the name of a village that Shikandin recognized as being on the fringes of the Eastern Forest.

‘I know that place,’ he told her. ‘I’ve been there.’

Confusion and curiosity finally made the girl stop crying. She looked up at Shikandin, daring to meet his eyes. He reached out to take her hand in his and said, ‘I swear to you on Amba’s memory, I will see you safely home.’ The girl gasped, as did the Queen, at the mention of the name. And then she stepped out from behind the Queen.

‘Meet me at the entrance to the royal gardens,’ Shikandin instructed her. My horse is there. Go!’

With a grateful but timid smile at her mistress, the girl left.

‘Farewell, Mahamatra,’ was all Shikandin said before he slipped silently over the palace walls to disappear into the darkness.

Just like some illicit lover
, the Queen noted as she watched him go, wondering if the sadness she felt at his departure was simply regret that he had never become one.

12

THE HANDMAIDEN WOKE UP WITH A START AT THE TOUCH ON
her arm but then relaxed as she found herself looking at a familiar face…Or was it? The man was undoubtedly Shikandin, except that Shikandin seemed to have grown younger overnight. Her confusion increased as he asked her, ‘Are you alone? Are you all right?’

She sat up with a squeal, trying to push the man away. He staggered back. Taking advantage of the moment, she scrambled to her feet but realized as she made to run that she had no idea where she was. All she remembered was the three days of riding through forests, most of the time with Shikandin walking alongside, leading the horse. They had taken care to avoid villages and roadways and had not seen another living person during the entire journey. The girl had been amazed by Shikandin’s ability to negotiate the woods, whether it was to hide or to find food, and had also gradually realized that he was doing all he could to make her feel safe and comfortable.

They had hardly spoken. Once, he had asked her if she was all right, and another time she had enquired, ‘Amba… You swore on her you’d keep me safe. What is she to you?’

In response, Shikandin had pulled a string of immaculately wrought beads out from under his tunic and held them up for her to see. The beads had shone as fire by the light of the sun, the lotus-shaped engravings blooming to life as flowers that would never fade. ‘I…I don’t understand,’ the handmaiden had confessed. ‘My people, the forest-dwellers, worship Amba. Are you…?’

‘I am one of your people,’ had been the reply.

The statement had given rise to more questions. She knew that Shikandin was a prince of Panchala, and did not see what his connection to Kashi or to the people of the Eastern Forest could be. But as the day progressed, she had grown too tired for thought. She hardly remembered when they stopped to make camp or when she had lain down on the ground and instantly fallen asleep.

That had been last night and she must have, she realized, slept long, for the sun was now edging overhead towards noon. Shikandin and his horse were nowhere to be seen.

‘I won’t hurt you…Please don’t be afraid.’ The young man tried to approach her again.

This time she was bolder. ‘Don’t you know me?’ she blurted out, causing the man to look as confused as she felt. ‘Shikandin, it’s me…’ she persisted.

The words apparently made some sense to the man, for he laughed and said, ‘Being mistaken for Shikandin Draupada is probably the best compliment I get. It has happened once or twice before, but I never tire of it.’

‘But…’

Her words were cut off by the metallic ring of a sword being drawn from its scabbard. She jumped, thought to move away, but found herself stunned by the scene before her. The young man had spun around at whiplash speed, pulling his sword out in the same move. The blade now hovered but a finger’s breadth away from the older – and undoubtedly original – Shikandin’s neck. Shikandin himself stood watching, his horse by his side. It amazed the handmaiden that she had heard neither of them approach and the younger man had, but the sentiment was lost as the situation became clear. ‘Don’t hurt him!’ she shouted at the young man, before she could stop herself.

The man dropped his sword and sheathed it, a grin wrinkling the corners of his mouth. ‘I’ll try not to,’ he jested even as he was pulled into a single-handed embrace by Shikandin, who looked just as delighted. He then turned to pat the horse’s flank, adding, by way of explanation, ‘Besides, my father could take on ten of me any day!’

‘Your father?’ she looked from one man to the other, finally comprehending as she noticed the green-brown eyes and the sculpted nose that both men had.

‘Yes,’ Shikandin affirmed. ‘This handsome rogue is indeed my son. Uttamaujas.’

‘Father!’

Shikandin turned around at the shout to see his youngest son, Kshatradharman run to him. Despite his height, the boy was only nine years old; young enough to throw his arms around his father’s neck. Shikandin lifted the boy up and whirled him around before setting him down next to his brother. ‘Where’s your uncle?’

‘He’s become a slow, old fool,’ a gruff voice answered. A hardy man, a forest-dwelling tribal by his aspect, emerged from the forest. He used his spear for support as he walked, and his left leg had an obvious limp.

‘When did that happen, Sthuna?’ Shikandin asked, concerned.

‘A lot has happened in these past months, Shikhandin. But first, who is this young lady? Where did you find her?’

Shikandin quickly explained the handmaiden’s situation to the others. Sthuna listened, sombre. Then he said, ‘She’s fortunate. She has a village to go back to. Many others don’t. The attacks on our people have increased. Some come to search for the Naga-astra and leave bloody trails in their wake. Others take our men and women, the children, too, to work in their forges. The very forges you once destroyed. But what’s the point! It’s the same old thing all over again. Devala Asita and his false promises of power. It is we who pay the price!’

‘Then, it is we who must fight against such tyranny. Have you been able to muster soldiers?’

‘Men, yes,’ Sthuna said. ‘Soldiers, no… But they are brave and strong and all we have, really. But I must say this: They fight for you, Shikandin, not for some emperor. They will come because you have told them to. The forest realms, from the woods of Panchala to Kosala and Kashi, are with you. But I hope you know what you are doing.’