It was midnight by the time Radheya returned to his tent, despondent and worried. How would his friend, Duryodhana, now mobilize his forces, he wondered. He knew that the Kaurava army was now like a body without a soul, a house whose central pillar had collapsed, a rudderless boat, or a horse without its rider. Instead of going to sleep, he decided to walk over to Duryodhana’s tent to know what he proposed to do at sunrise. But as he was about to step out, he saw Duryodhana himself coming towards him, followed by his brothers. As he drew close to him, Radheya could see, even in the darkness of the night, that his friend looked utterly woebegone.
‘I have come to seek your advice,’ Duryodhana said. ‘Despair has seeped into every vein of my body. There was a moment when I felt like giving it all up. I knew that my grandfather was always indulgent towards the Pandavas, but it was still some comfort to see him mowing down enemy soldiers, like a sickle cutting through a paddy field. But now that he is gone, I feel leaderless.’ He was choked up as if feeling a lump in his throat. ‘Would you come to my rescue at this critical moment, dear friend? You must redeem your pledge by helping me regain my honour. I would be immensely grateful if you’d agree to take over the command of my army. Because you are a peerless archer and, unlike my grandfather and Drona, committed to killing the Pandavas – particularly Arjuna, who is a dread to my soldiers. And then there is that savage Bheema, who is out to kill all my brothers, like a predator on the prowl.’
‘You don’t have to waste your breath saying all this,’ said Radheya, ‘when I am like a limb of your own body, or a mirror to your soul. I am more anxious than you to plunge into the battle tomorrow. All these days, my hands have remained limp, my arrows blunt and rusty. So I will fight for you with my body and soul.’ He paused. ‘But your proposal for me to lead your army is another matter. Every veteran on your side is worthy of this honour – Drona or Kripa. If you choose me as your commander-in-chief, ignoring these equally valiant fighters, there would be some heartburn.’ After a moment, he added, ‘If you ask my advice, you should request Drona to succeed Bheeshma. He is an unrivalled archer, who has been a teacher to all the Pandava brothers. So how could they stand up against their guru? Confronting him on the battlefield, they would feel intimidated and demoralized.’
Duryodhana took a little time to ponder over what Radheya had just said. Drona was indeed a very suitable choice, but would he, like Bheeshma, avoid killing Arjuna, Yudhishthira or Bheema? However, since there was no time to lose, he decided to let Drona lead his army, though not without some reservations. Wasn’t life a compromise, he told himself?
Taking Radheya with him, Duryodhana then walked over to Drona’s tent.
‘You may have already guessed, O revered teacher, why we are here. Without Bheeshma, we all feel orphaned. So you are now our only hope. I beseech you to take over the command of my army. Your leadership alone can lead us to victory.’
There was a brief spell of silence, during which Drona weighed the pros and cons of Duryodhana’s offer. He knew that he would now be required to kill the Pandavas – something he would never do. Maybe Duryodhana would be satisfied if, like Bheeshma, he too could kill as many enemy soldiers as possible. As regards the task of killing Arjuna or Bheema, he would leave that to Radheya.
‘I am honoured to be asked to lead your army. But I accept your offer on one condition – that I must be allowed to take all decisions independently. Of course, I would be glad to have Radheya join me in fighting the enemy, but he should not interfere with my planning.’
Instantly, Radheya stepped forward and bowed to Drona. With folded hands, he said, ‘I may have been unfortunate not to have had you as my guru, but I look upon you as an invincible warrior, unrivalled both in wisdom and valour. Besides, I should be beholden to anyone who would help my friend, Duryodhana, at this critical juncture. So lead us all to victory, O Lord.’
‘Victory or defeat is in God’s hands, O Radheya. All that any man can do is perform his duty as steadfastly as possible.’
Since this consultations took the better part of the night, there wasn’t much time left for anyone to have enough rest. Just a few hours later, they had to be up on their feet to prepare for the battle.
Drona decided to try out the sakata – the wheel formation – for his army, while the Pandavas chose the krauncha shape. Dhrishtadyumna was in an upbeat mood because he felt that, without Bheeshma, the enemy would feel utterly dispirited. His only concern was how to handle Radheya, who was as skilled an archer as Arjuna.
As dawn deepened into the crimson of sunrise, the two armies braced for another round of fighting. Riding his magnificent chariot right in the front line, Radheya looked resplendent like the sun. The Pandavas seemed to witness two suns on this fateful day: the ball of fire up in the sky and the effulgent face of a new warrior on the battlefield, Radheya. But just as fighting erupted on all fronts, Duryodhana’s chariot drew close to Drona’s. He then spoke in a pleading tone, ‘O my esteemed teacher, may I ask a very special favour of you? I would feel immensely gratified if you could somehow seize Yudhishthira and bring him to me as a prisoner.’
‘To be slain by you?’ Drona almost shot back. ‘That I would never do. Don’t forget that he commands my respect, even though I am now pitted against him as his enemy. If you are a true Kshatriya, you should engage him in a single combat and defeat him – that is, if you can. But to capture him and bring him to you like a sacrificial goat would be a ghastly sin.’
Shaking his head to deny the charge of being unchivalrous, Duryodhana promptly responded: ‘I have been misunderstood, O Lord. I would never resort to such a low tactic. All that I had in my mind was to invite him to another game of dice, and I am certain that being a compulsive gambler he would again fall for it. I assure you that it would be a fair game this time. Winning or losing is not in anybody’s hands. I have another reason too. If the Pandava king was held prisoner, wouldn’t his army instantly fall into disarray? So it is worth trying, isn’t it?’
Drona’s forehead was now knitted, as if he were trying to figure out Duryodhana’s real intent. Was he trying to first lead Yudhishthira into a trap and then eliminate him somehow? But if he merely wanted to play a fair game of dice, the suggestion was certainly worth considering.
‘If you promise not to harm him in any manner,’ Drona said, ‘I will try to capture him somehow. But, remember, that he is always guarded by Arjuna and Bheema.’ He paused. ‘A formidable task you have assigned me, but I will try to do it just to please you.’
It was another day of several duels. While Bhurisravas combated Sikhandi, Duryodhana’s brother Vivamsati fled after a brief round with Bheema. An exciting duel, however, took place between Alambusa, a rakshasa ally of Duryodhana, and Ghatotkacha. Both were skilled in miraculous tactics but finally, overpowered by Bheema’s invincible son, Alambusa had to withdraw from the combat.
Drona was, of course, occupied with one thought only – how to capture Yudhishthira. So when he crossed Dhrishtadyumna on the battlefield, he let him go after a brief skirmish. Then, as he spotted Yudhishthira, with Arjuna nowhere around him, he said to his charioteer: ‘There, do you see the white canopy of Yudhishthira’s chariot? Whip your horses into full gallop to get me there at once.’
As Drona drew close, he saw that Yudhishthira was unguarded by any of the Pandava veterans. A godsend, he said to himself, and he started shooting his arrows at his chariot. His strategy was to overpower Yudhishthira with this onslaught. But he would not kill him, or any of his brothers because, like Bheeshma, he loved them all. However, he was quite surprised to see Yudhishthira defending himself courageously. But when one of Drona’s arrows snapped his bow, Yudhisthira stood helpless. There he now stood in his chariot, like a prey hunted down by a wild beast.
Yudhishthira was, however, greatly relieved to see Dhrishtadyumna, Sikhandi and Virata racing their chariots towards him. But Drona overpowered them all with his arrows, which fell like hail. In no time was he able to reach Yudhishthira, who now saw his guru poised to seize him. But just as he was about to pull him out of his chariot, Arjuna appeared on the scene.
‘Stop!’ Arjuna shouted, raising his Gandiva menacingly at Drona. ‘What are you up to? If you are planning to take him as a prisoner, let us first battle it out between the two of us – teacher and pupil. You know that I would not kill my guru. But you seem to be acting at Duryodhana’s behest.’ He broke off as he almost choked with anger. ‘I think I can see through your game. You want to seize my brother as a prisoner so that the Pandava army may surrender and the war come to an expeditious end. But does Duryodhana know that so long as Bheema and I are alive, the war will go on till my brother regains his throne? So let go of my brother, lest I stain my hands with the blood of someone I hold in great reverence and affection.’
Downcast, Drona asked his charioteer to drive him away, but not without realizing that he had failed in his mission. A sense of guilt also welled up within him. Why had he agreed to capture Yudhishthira instead of engaging him in an open combat?
As Krishna saw Drona leave the spot, he said to Arjuna, ‘There goes the great Acharya, but now a slave to an evil master. I tell you that his days are numbered. He is destined to die on this battlefield for the despicable act that he tried to do today.’
As Arjuna and Krishna were escorting Yudhishthira to safety, they saw the sun sinking on the horizon. This was a signal for both armies to stop fighting.