Duryodhana sank into despair when his spies returned to Hastinapur empty-handed. In vain they had combed the entire country but they had found no trace of the Pandavas.
‘Maybe they are dead, O Lord,’ said an elderly spy. ‘How could they survive twelve years of wandering in the forests? You can rest in peace and rule over your kingdom, unchallenged.’
Drona, who was there along with Bheeshma and Kripa, dismissed the idea as a mere fantasy.
‘No,’ Drona said. ‘The Pandavas live a charmed life. They must be in hiding somewhere, waiting for the end of their exile.’
These words pricked Duryodhana and he snapped at Drona: ‘There you go again, always praying for their well-being. But isn’t that fantastic too?’
Drona’s words had, however, deepened Duryodhana’s anxiety because the Pandavas’ exile was drawing to a close. What if they surfaced from somewhere, like ghosts, to reclaim their kingdom!’
Then, suddenly, another spy arrived with information that intrigued Duryodhana. This spy narrated some strange happenings in the city of Virata. There he heard about a wrestling match in which a renowned champion was not only trounced but killed by a stranger. Then he also heard about the gruesome murder of the mighty Keechaka, the commander-in-chief of the Matsya army. The killer, some unidentified person, had killed him in the middle of the night, presumably because Keechaka had tried to molest his wife, a woman known for her beauty and grace.
‘That’s it!’ exclaimed Duryodhana, as if he had found a clue to some mystery. Turning to Drona and Bheeshma, he said, ‘That killer must be Bheema, I’m sure. Who else could have murdered an invincible warrior like Keechaka? I also surmise that the cause of his murder was Draupadi, who must have aroused Keechaka’s lust. Now I can see all these pieces falling into a pattern. Surely my enemies are hiding somewhere in Virata – and I should have no difficulty in smoking them out.’
‘It is the moment for action,’ said Radheya. ‘Let us launch an attack on the city. If the Pandavas are living incognito in King Virata’s palace, they will surely come out into the open in defence of their protector.’
At this point, Bheeshma intervened, ‘Look, dear Duryodhana, it is not wise to go to war against King Virata. Radheya is always too impatient to spill blood. If the Pandavas are alive, a worthier course of action would be to let them return to Indraprastha. Haven’t they suffered enough? If you choose to be magnanimous at this moment, the gods will bless you. Let us send Vidura to Virata to bring them back to us with honour and respect.’
‘That I shall never do, O grandfather,’ said Duryodhana. ‘On the contrary, I am determined to send them back into another cycle of exile, now that they have been found out in Virata. Wasn’t that the condition at the second game of dice?’
Smiling, Bheeshma responded: ‘This time, O Duryodhana, you have already lost the game because, according to me, the thirteenth year of their exile is already over, and they are entitled to reclaim their kingdom.’
‘No, grandfather,’ countered Duryodhana, ‘that is your fantasy. There is still some time left for their exile to end. So I will accept Radheya’s advice to attack them without any delay. My strategy will be to provoke King Virata into battle by seizing all his cows. This would bring him into an open fight with us. And would that king have any chance against such invincible warriors as my guru Dronacharya, my grandfather Bheeshma, and my friend Radheya?’
Both Bheeshma and Drona had to remain silent in the face of Duryodhana’s inflexible will.
Immediately, Duryodhana asked his brother Duhsasana to mobilize the support of all their allies. The first to jump into the fray was Susarma, the Trigarta, who had never forgotten his humiliating defeat at the hands of Keechaka. But now that Keechaka had been killed, he saw his way clear to victory.
Duryodhana then drew up the battle plan himself. While Susarma was to invade Virata from the southern side and drive away all the cows from there, he would himself lead the main army from the northern front, with the support of Bheeshma, Drona, Radheya and Asvatthama. This two-pronged attack was intended to divert King Virata’s attention and allow them to surround him from both sides.
As Susarma’s soldiers entered the city from the southern side and started to drive away all the cows, there was wailing and crying everywhere. The cowherds rushed to the palace and implored King Virata to come to their rescue. The king immediately ordered his forces to halt the enemy’s advance. Yudhishthira offered to join him too.
‘You may have taken me, O King, for a mere Vedic scholar and a dice player, but I am a fighter too. So let me come with you.’ Then, after a pause, he added, ‘There is Valala, your cook, who defeated the Sindhu champion. There are also two other men in the royal household – the stable-keeper and the young man who tends the cows. I am sure these three would be a great help to you in defeating the enemy.’ But he deliberately withheld Arjuna’s name, knowing that the king would not entertain the thought of a eunuch joining his ranks.
The king was very pleased to have them all join his army, especially Valala, who had demonstrated his valour in the wrestling match. In no time, King Virata positioned himself at the head of his large army. Then ensued a fierce battle between Susarma’s soldiers and King Virata’s. But as darkness descended all over, Susarma somehow succeeded in seizing King Virata as his prisoner. While he was being taken away to Susarma’s chariot, Yudhishthira asked Bheema to rescue him. Like a leopard leaping at its prey, Bheema rushed to the chariot. He not only liberated the king but was also on the verge of killing Susarma when Yudhisthira shouted, ‘No, Bheema, let us spare his life. He has invaded the city only at the behest of Duryodhana, who is our real enemy.’
Humiliated and crestfallen, Susarma withdrew his army. As the king’s soldiers were now exhausted after the battle, he decided to let them rest for a while.
Meanwhile, Duryodhana’s mighty army had already entered the northern part of the city. As his soldiers began to capture the cows, there was panic everywhere. When a large crowd of people gathered at the palace gates to seek the help of Prince Uttar, the king’s young son, they found him playing the veena. It took him quite some time to realize the gravity of the situation.
‘This is not the time to play the veena,’ said a cowherd. ‘Pick up your bow and arrows and protect us from the enemy, now that the king is away, fighting the enemy elsewhere. Prove yourself worthy of being the son of a valiant father.’
Hesitatingly, Prince Uttar put the veena away and gathered himself up on his feet. Finding himself in a piquant situation, he somehow managed to put on a brave face.
‘Of course, I’d be too happy to fight the enemy single-handed,’ he said, ‘since my father is engaged on another front. I don’t care if I have no army to support me. Alone, I will be able to take on the Kauravas. Don’t forget that my bow can twang louder than Arjuna’s Gandiva. I am mightier than even Parasurama, more valiant than Drona, Bheeshma or Radheya. Today the enemy will taste defeat at my hands. But…’ he trailed off. ‘How can I fight without a skilled charioteer? It is a thousand pities that my charioteer was killed in a battle a few months ago. Since a fighter without a charioteer is like a body without hands, you should first find me someone to steer me through the battlefield.’
Draupadi, who was standing close by, with Princess Uttara and other women, was greatly amused to hear the young prince brag about himself. He must be forced to match his words with deeds, she thought. So she whispered into the ears of Princess Uttara: ‘May I suggest someone who could drive his chariot with superb skill and courage?… There is Brihannala, your dance teacher, who could be of great service to the prince.’
Amazed to hear the name, the princess quipped, ‘But do you wish to see him dance his way into a battlefield? He is just a eunuch, capable only of capering on his feet.’
Draupadi at once responded: ‘Well, I have heard that this man has been charioteer to the illustrious Arjuna. Driving a chariot has nothing to do with sex. Let me assure you that Brihannala could outshine any charioteer in the country.’
Since there was no time to lose, the princess readily agreed to recommend him to her brother. Arjuna was summoned and he walked in coquettishly, like a eunuch. All the women standing around broke into peals of laughter.
As the chariot was ready to rattle away, the princess bade her brother a warm farewell, saying, ‘I know, dear Uttar, that you’d return victorious. From this moment onwards, I’d be praying for you. But don’t forget to bring me the silken garments, jewels and gems of the slain Kauravas. I will keep them as mementos of your valour.’
Saying that he would indeed remember his sister’s wish, the prince let the chariot roll away amidst thunderous shouting: ‘Victory to our young hero! Death to the enemy!’
As the chariot cleared the city gates, the prince noticed that his charioteer had already brought the horses under his superb control. Then Arjuna reined in the horses as he saw the Kaurava army poised for its attack on the city. On seeing himself face-to-face with these stalwart warriors, Prince Uttar’s heart started to sink. He saw death looming in front of him. Now trembling with fear, he turned to Arjuna and asked, ‘Do you want me to fight those powerful enemies single-handed? Do you know who they are, O Brihannala?’
‘I do, O Prince,’ Arjuna replied promptly. ‘As Sairindhri has told you already, I was charioteer to Arjuna. So I know the whole lot of the Kauravas and the Pandavas.’ Then, fixing his gaze on the enemy’s front line, he began to introduce each one of the enemies to the prince.
‘Look, there is Crown Prince Duryodhana riding his white horse. Beside him is his brother, Duhsasana, on a grey steed. Now, can you see someone riding up to Duryodhana on a magnificent brown horse? In the early sunshine, you should be able to see his face, flushed with pride and confidence. He is Radheya, the mightiest archer on the Kaurava side, whose only goal in life is to kill Arjuna. But the most revered and illustrious of them all is that grey-haired rider, wearing a coronet studded with gems and jewels. He is Bheeshma, the patriarch of the Kuru clan. You know, he would have become the undisputed monarch of the Kuru empire if he had not taken a vow of celibacy. But that is a long story. And, finally, there is Dronacharya, riding a pink horse. He taught both the Kaurava and Pandava princes the art of archery. But he is an unwilling supporter of Duryodhana because his heart is with Arjuna. So, you see, I know them all.’
‘Indeed, you seem to know each one of them quite intimately,’ said the young prince, whose face had turned ashen with dread. ‘Now tell me, O Brihannala, can I vanquish these invincible warriors single-handed? It would be like a mouse venturing into a lion’s den.’ Then, with a lump in his throat, and his heart pounding fast, he said, ‘No, let me turn back at once. Don’t push me into the jaws of death. I am just a callow youth who has stumbled into this ordeal.’ Saying these words, he jumped off the chariot and started running towards the city. But Arjuna followed him, shouting: ‘Don’t be a coward. I have never seen a Kshatriya running away from a battlefield. You will be stigmatized as a blot on the fair name of the Matsyas. Don’t be afraid, O Prince, because I’d be with you all the way. We will defeat all those Kauravas. If you are so scared, I will let you hold the reins while I will do the fighting. Just wait and see what I can accomplish.’ He paused. ‘However, first come with me to that tree because I wish to pick up something from there. But I must hold you with me lest you run away again.’
There was something in Arjuna’s assurance that gave courage to the young prince. Surely Brihannala was not just a dance teacher or a charioteer, but also a valiant fighter, he thought. So the prince decided to resign himself to his charioteer.
Prince Uttar then saw Arjuna climb up to the top of a huge, sprawling tree and brought down a sack full of some weapons. As he pulled out a mighty bow and a quiver, the prince looked surprised.
‘Whose bow is that?’ he asked.
‘This is Arjuna’s Gandiva that made him an invincible archer,’ came the prompt answer.
‘Then how has it come into your hands?’ But before the prince could ask him anything more, a thought flashed through his mind, like a sudden streak of lightning. Fixing his gaze on his charioteer’s face, he asked, ‘Who are you?’
‘Arjuna!’ Brihannala let the name ring through the air.
Transfixed with amazement, the young prince just exclaimed, ‘O Narayana!’ His eyes lingered on Arjuna’s face. Was he really standing close to the mighty archer or was this some illusion? As the prince knell to touch his feet, Arjuna said, ‘No, Prince Uttar, do not embarrass me. We are peers, destined to confront a powerful enemy. Look, we are going to defeat the Kauravas. Let my Gandiva perform this miracle.’
Meanwhile, Drona, who had watched a young man jumping off the chariot, and another person pursuing him, had already recognized his favourite pupil, Arjuna. Turning to Bheeshma, he whispered into his ears: ‘I am certain we are pitted against Arjuna. There, you can see him sitting on that royal chariot, with a young man holding the reins.’
As Bheeshma focussed his eyes on the chariot, he nodded his head. ‘Of course, that is my dear child, Arjuna. I am delighted to see that the Pandavas are safe in Virata. Now that the thirteenth year of their exile is already over, Yudhishthira should reclaim his throne, unless Duryodhana creates some other problem.’ He paused. ‘But shouldn’t we let Duryodhana know that we are ranged against Arjuna and not King Virata?’
When Duryodhana learnt that the man riding the chariot in front of them was Arjuna, he let out a guffaw of laughter. ‘So the rat has been smoked out of its hole. Since Arjuna has come out in the open before the end of the exile, I must force the Pandavas into another cycle of thirteen years. So we have already succeeded in our mission.’
But he was confused when Bheeshma asserted that the stipulated period of exile was already over.
‘I do not accept that, O grandfather. I am sure you are speculating on the basis of some miscalculation. In any case, it is a single man out there, risking his life in a fight against a formidable army. So let the battle begin.’
He had hardly finished speaking when the first arrow from Arjuna’s Gandiva fell at Bheeshma’s feet, as if to seek his blessings. And then followed an incessant shower of arrows that mowed down countless Kaurava soldiers like a paddy field devastated by hail. Radheya brought his chariot forward to confront Arjuna, whom he had vowed to kill. But before he could even string his bow, it was shattered into many pieces. Two fierce pairs of eyes now collided with each other on the battlefield.
Then Arjuna shot an arrow that sprayed poisonous smoke through the rank and file of the Kaurava army.
‘There, I have put to sleep,’ said Arjuna to the young prince, ‘all those veterans who had terrified you. Now, walk over to the front line and collect their silken garments, jewels and gems. Don’t forget that we have made this pledge to your sister, Princess Uttara.’
Like a man walking in sleep, the prince walked forward to dispossess the unconscious warriors of their clothes and jewellery.
It was now time to ride back to the city. But Arjuna asked the prince to stop near the sprawling tree so that he could hide his Gandiva up there again.
‘I can’t believe what I have seen today, O Arjuna,’ stuttered the young prince. ‘What shall I tell my father?’
‘Nothing,’ answered Arjuna. ‘Since I would like you to take the credit for this victory, I will let you walk into the palace ahead of me so that you are received in full glory.’
‘But that would be utter hypocrisy!’
‘Never mind,’ responded Arjuna. ‘This is the least I could do for a king who offered us shelter for a whole year.’ He paused. ‘And, now, let me unfold to you the entire mystery. That companion to your father is my eldest brother, Yudhishthira, former king of Indraprastha.’ Then he revealed the identities of Bheema, Nakula and Sahadeva as well.
‘Now comes the greatest surprise for you, O Prince,’ Arjuna continued. ‘The lady who has worked as beautician to your mother is the glorious Draupadi, daughter of King Drupada, and wedded to us all.’
‘O heavens!’ exclaimed Prince Uttar. ‘So it was madness on the part of my uncle, Keechaka, to dare molest the queen of Indraprastha!’
Before they entered the city, King Virata had already been received with great fanfare. People danced and sang in the streets. Particularly jubilant were the cowherds whose cattle had been retrieved. They painted their cows’ horns with turmeric and led them out in a procession, with the drummers walking ahead. All the temples in the city were crowded with devotees who offered prayers to their deities for the triumphant return of their king.