Vedanta could feel the major energy drop amongst his leftover army. They all stood still, with their weapons and shields intact, but they didn’t have the same confidence anymore. A few of them were pulling across the injured men, close to the caravans for medical aid, while others were drinking from the water canisters placed on the mules.
He thought he would have won the war with no hassle since the outcasts were weak and scattered; mired in their own factional politics. Thus he had brought a relatively small army than what he had back in his kingdom. His arrogance was his downfall clearly, as here the outcasts were a cohesive unit. Vedanta cursed himself, for he wished that he had listened to the messages his allies had sent from Suryagarh and Varungarh, which had been taken hostage by the scoundrel outcasts. The remaining cities were already controlled by them and the last one was Indragarh, the capital of Illavarti. And here he was, facing the ultimate penalty for his vain belief in his own power.
And then in the midst of his thoughtful musing, he heard the cry of his commander.
“The envoys are coming from the rival camp!”
“Kill them from afar,” Vedanta yelled back.
“All right your highness…” and then he paused. “Uh…”
Vedanta stepped forward to see three soldiers moving towards them, but riding atop baby elephants. They stopped ten paces away from them.
“I said kill them!”
“My lord, we can’t.”
“Why not?” Vedanta growled.
“They are…they are riding on baby elephants, the animal-vehicle of Lord Indra, the lord we worship.”
Vedanta reluctantly saw the point. He moved forward, with his commander on the side cribbing about how they should send a bird for backup to Rajgirh, the royal palace of Indragarh. He knew they would take at least five to six hours to reach the battle zone.
Vedanta walked ahead of his defence, stopping and staring at the rival envoys, who were swathed in the light from the weak morning sun. “What do you want?” asked Vedanta, his voice roaring.
The envoy in the middle came off of his baby elephant and walked over. He was a tall man with jet-black hair, a fair cherubic face, a disarming smile and golden eyes. He was a handsome lad, no doubt, but he was devious; the way his eyes pierced Vedanta’s soul.
“I am humbled to say my name is Kali.”
“So you are the man who is leading the war against the Manavs, destroying my men and allying with the treacherous outcasts!”
“The Tribals, my friend, aren’t outcasts. They have equal rights and that’s what they and I have been fighting for.” His voice grew louder for the soldiers to hear him now. “We don’t want any more war since both of us have suffered tremendously. We come with peace.”
“And what if we don’t want peace? You see, what if I cut off your head and send it back? With no one to lead the outcasts, they’ll suffer.”
“You may try,” he mocked.
Vedanta gritted his teeth as he pulled out his sword and held it close to Kali’s neck when his wrist was held back by his commander.
“No, your highness.”
“How dare you stop me?”
“I wouldn’t have, your highness, if it wasn’t for that.” The commander signalled over to the back, where the other two envoys with Kali had their swords held across the baby elephants’ necks, ready to cut.
“You threaten me with my own beliefs. I never thought that my faith would hinder me in my progress.”
Kali began to walk around Vedanta like a demanding, dark force.
“I just wish to have leverage. We protect your interests and you protect ours. Let’s be fair. We have a bigger army than you.” He stopped, nose to nose, inches away Vedanta. “We have the Rakshas, the Nagas, and the Yakshas while your men are depleting in numbers, dehydrated, starving, and in urgent need of medical supplies. You wouldn’t stand a chance against us for one more night. Your fort is far from here. Travelling back will only cost you more; that is if we let you travel.”
Vedanta looked at his men. They all looked convinced about what Kali was saying. He had a magnetic, soft voice, which made even Vedanta melt.
“Come with us to our tents. We will feed and give you water. I do not wish to hurt you or kill more of your men if you settle it with us. I want to find a middle ground for the city of Indragarh, where a truce can happen between the Tribals and the Manavs, nothing else. We can do that either by peace or…” he narrowed his eyes meaningfully. “We can take it from you. But I don’t wish to do that. I don’t want to kill you. I just want to work with you.”
“You mean you want to take over like a dictator? To rob me of my city?”
“I promise you one thing. You will be the king. Always. We will just be your help,” Kali explained.
“What about the outcasts? Will they agree to this?”
“They already have. We all just want peace. If you remember, you were the one charging at us here, at our safe post. We were just coming to your city for a compromise.”
Vedanta mused. He was stubborn, almost mulish, but he agreed his entire army was next to nothing against the outcast forces. His death would unleash centrifugal forces in Illavarti. But to return without honour was also a serious matter; though honour would make sense only in the event of being alive.
“I want to know all the accords, the rules, the guidelines…”
“We can set up a council meeting for that.”
“The people will be scared…”
Vedanta noticed Kali didn’t have any weapon on him. He had worn flamboyant, multicoloured robes, with a cloak around the back. His boots were shiny but rugged and his skin, though perfectly sculpted, had seen the ravages of war. “Change is scary but good. Always good. It’ll take time for them to settle, but they will, believe me.”
Vedanta sighed.
“By the Vajra, I hope I don’t regret this.”
“It’s not like a deal with the devil.” Kali smiled.
Vedanta nodded. He would have to find a way some other time to get rid of Kali, perhaps ally with someone. But for now, it was Kali’s triumph.