part0076

Arjan thought he had lost the ability to be surprised from anyone now. He thought he had seen enough and he just wanted to go home, curl into a ball in his cot and rest forevermore.

They were standing in one of the rooms in Ratri’s house, concealing much from her, as the candles burnt and gave light to the dim room. Arjan stood there in the corner, his fingers over his hips, the sickle dangling from his leather belt. He knew it won’t be easy but the idea of battling Rakshas again was daunting. He had seen what they were capable of doing. His very bones shivered as images of the gruelling, bloody soil of Shambala came to his mind.

“We need more help,” Padma said. She had a way with words, in terms of not just what she spoke, but also the way she spoke. It was a dialect Arjan was not familiar with. It reminded him of the south, the way Rakshas spoke. But the Rakshas had a deeper cadence to their pronunciation.

“What about secretly getting it?” Bala asked.

“Secrecy won’t help,” Padma shook her head, showing the diagram she had made while scouting the entire mud-keep.

Arjan saw the rough design and to his surprise, it was well made. Padma had a way with her hands as well. But then Arjan merely shook his head, finding himself too easily impressed with anything the girl did or said lately.

The diagram showed the structure of the keep. It was closed from all sides, just like the prison. With no ceiling on the top, it was supported by arches and guarded by constantly stationed guards. Inside, Shuko had told Padma and Arjan, there was a dome like structure under which the Soma was probably kept.

“Most probably we think that’s where it is, but we need to scout and we won’t be able to scout if we don’t have more people.”

“We can ask Ratri,” Bala said again.

Arjan glanced at him keenly for Bala had gone red mentioning Ratri. That was odd, since Arjan had seen Bala and Ratri talking often, although Bala hardly seemed the romantic sort. But then again Arjan was so caught up in his own contrivances that he had forgotten the trivialities that surrounded him.

Bala added. “We hide too much from her, everyone.”

“Look who’s feeling guilty now.” Kripa rolled his eyes. “Anyone else who gives a darn or is it just him?”

Arjan did consider the possibility of telling it Ratri but it would heed no fruit. “What do you suggest?” Arjan asked, looking at how Padma pulled out a gold coin, seemingly old-fashioned, and began to rub the edges of it, playing around.

“We hire people,” she announced.

“Who would that be, lass?” Kripa asked. “I’m sure we can’t find anyone who’s as strong as a Rakshas.”

Padma nodded. “We can’t. But we can find those who are not as afraid of them.” She paused, taking a deep breath, as if summoning her energies to speak up, before finally uttering, “Mlecchas.”

Arjan stood there, frozen for a moment, wondering whether she had said what he had heard. He looked at Kripa, who also stared agape, while Bala just shook his head, shrugged and sat down on the ground. Arjan couldn’t believe the mention of Mlecchas would come, yet again, in his lifetime.

“Uh, no, anything else, but not this.” Arjan was stern as he watched Kripa. “Don’t you have any other plans than making astras out of Soma?”

“Nothing of consequence, mate.” Kripa was still thoughtful.

“This is not going well.” Arjan sat with Bala.

Padma looked at them incredulously. “What is your problem with the Mlecchas?”

“They attacked us, those pussies!” exclaimed Bala. “They killed Arjan’s father even!”

There was not even a hint of sorrow in Padma’s eyes. “Yeah, and my brothers were killed and I have been trying so hard ever since to avenge them. And look where I am, stuck with wimps who can’t get over their prejudices and grief.”

She eyed Arjan carefully and then she knelt down, reaching out for him. “I know you have apprehensions about the Mlecchas. Yes, agreed they aren’t good as individuals, but we don’t need good men on our side right now. We need evil to fight evil.”

“Where do you hope to find these Mlecchas?”

“Taverns, where they are often drinking and loitering,” she showed the coin she had been playing with, “we can sell this off to an antique store and get a good amount out of it to rent the Mlecchas.”

Arjan thought for a moment. He didn’t like the idea at all and for a moment he was thinking of all the other possibilities that could work. But then none of it really seemed as feasible to him. He knew if he would go for the direct entry to the prison, the Nagas would kill him instantly. They were quite brutal last time and his ankle was still bruised and tender.

The scar on Arjan’s face burnt. It reminded him of the time Keshav Nand had sliced it, testing the very limits of his capacity to bear pain with equanimity. And he knew at that moment, he needed someone like that on his team. The Rakshas were similar to Mlecchas, remorseless.

“All right.” Arjan nodded.

Arjan had just entered the tavern when he noticed the Mlecchas, even from afar. The tavern hadn’t been the dingy place he had expected, like the Madira’s Chalice. Arjan laid his eyes on the counter where all the drinks were made. But that wasn’t the surprising part. It was surprising however that the one who made drinks was a gandharv. Gandharvs were almost white-skinned, with pale, lilac eyes. Their faces had straight, conical noses and they were very good when it came to appeasing the rulers. It was written in history that the original gandharvs were servants for Indra and worked with him.

Arjan also happened to see the absolutely mesmerizing apsaras, who were walking, enticing the different men and women in the tavern. They weren’t distinguishable from their counterparts, the gandharvs, but they were attractive, all of them. He tried to look away, but they all came to Arjan, flocking around him while Arjan shrugged them off. They were the minute Tribals, as Arjan had learnt, who had no representative, thus they moved along with other Tribals, migrating annually.

“Aren’t you interested in women?” Padma asked, with a smirk, while walking towards a bunch of men who sat with their mugs and were yelling at each other, playing a game of pachisi. The memory scarred him and chilled his bones; how he had escaped death by playing pachisi but lost.

“No, I’m not,” Arjan said.

“Men then? That’s rare.”

Why was it rare? There were those who liked the same sex back in Shambala as well, but they didn’t have the same courage to admit it to people. Arjan had known about his sexuality a while back, but he never intended to explore it, since he had been stuck in a continuous chain of horrific events.

Padma reached the Mlecchas while Arjan stood at the back, watching her. The Mlecchas saw her, but ignored her, but Padma coughed again to get their attention.

“What you want, gal?” said one of the men. He had a dark and thick beard, inky black in colour. “We are not interested.”

Padma didn’t say much, but tossed a bag of coins onto the table. Everyone gasped at the amount, some turning their heads, while the apsaras sat wide-eyed. The main man stood up. “Dattatreya.” He shook hands with Padma.

“Padma, and this is my friend, Arjan.”

Dattatreya came forward, and brought his hands forward. “Dattatreya,” he said again. Arjan didn’t shake it back, even though he knew it was a foolish thing to do. He had to be friends with them, but his gut said no.

“What is your problem, kid?”

“Leave him,” Padma interrupted, “he has had a rough episode with the likes of you.”

“Which village?” asked Dattatreya with a brutish grin, as if he didn’t mind the indecency of his ilk. But then, the man was drunk as a fish.

“Arghh,” Dattatreya nodded to himself, walking back to the table where his friends were counting the coins Padma had given to them. “A man had come here,” he said, “old and scruffy, came with a friend and said they wanted us to raid a village called Shambala. But we said no.”

Arjan narrowed his eyes. An old man who wanted to take over Shambala?

“Did you do it?” Padma asked.

“Na, it too much work for too less money. We live on easy work and blood, but with the money you gave us, we have no issues even if you ask us to die, milady.”

“Great, that’s exactly what you have to do.”

“Where is the work at?”

“Here, at Indragarh.”

There was a shift of expression on Dattatreya’s face. “Here, not really our business, but uh, we won’t do it.” Dattatreya yelled in his language to pack the gold up and leave, “too less money.”

“Why not here? What’s wrong?”

“Indragarh is hostile, and we will be homeless if we get caught. We need enough to sustain us while we escape.”

Padma looked at Arjan and whispered, “I don’t have enough anymore.” Arjan knew she kept more of the antique gold coins for herself, but she was selfish and surely wouldn’t part with more of them than she already had. Arjan didn’t blame her. At the end of the day, she was doing them a favour and not the other way around.

But then all said and done, he didn’t worry about more money because Arjan was still musing over what Dattatreya had said about someone coming for them. Must be some megalomaniac, for all Arjan knew. As he had been drifting in his thoughts about the culprit, he swivelled his face, facing a familiar figure who had been hiding behind a table. Arjan noticed and realized it was none other than Kumar.

Racing forward, Arjan didn’t stop when Kumar realized he had been caught. Kumar tried to move past the people, his small body tossing aside the others in the process. Arjan dodged a sudden oncoming wagon, feeling the brunt of this exertion in his ankle, until he leapt onto Kumar, who was trying to make a run for it. Grabbing him by the feet, he tossed him against the wall and looked straight in his eyes.

“What are you doing here?”

“What are you doing here?” Kumar asked.

“You have been following me. Why?”

Kumar, Ratri’s loyal servant, looked uncertain. “Because Ratri knows what you all are up to and she wants to keep you in check.”

Ratri knew everything?

“She’s not stupid and ignorant when it comes to all the long meetings you have with your so-called friends. And your friend doesn’t have the common sense to keep his mouth shut.”

Arjan struck his head, sitting on the gravelly path. “Tell her I’m sorry.”

“She doesn’t need your sorry. She needs a foolproof plan. Do you have one? The big man said it concerned explosives, and she got scared, even though he tried his best to allay her apprehensions.”

Arjan couldn’t believe Bala had gone behind their backs. And for what? A mere infatuation?

“What do you mean?”

“She can help.” Kumar patted his shoulder, with a grin. “She wants to fund your siege, wherever you plan to go with these bandits!”

“And why would she do that?”

“She has no choice,” Kumar said. “And also because of Lakshmi.”

Arjan saw Padma had rushed outside as well; perhaps she had seen Arjan storming from the tavern. Padma, when she witnessed Kumar in front of her, was instantly flustered. She didn’t say anything, and Arjan saw Kumar was just grimacing at Padma.