4

Barely had Meghabhuti’s ashes gone cold when loud wails resounded within the palace. Unable to bear the terrible blow, the queen’s heart had given way.

‘Destiny has snatched my whole family in one cruel stroke,’ Vasuket lamented. Saahas pressed his lips together, forcing down sobs. His king had aged almost overnight, the dark hair streaked with grey, the gentle face withered and lined.

‘Oh,’ cried Chakrawaru. ‘My beloved Prince Anuj was the only family I ever had. I am an orphan again, Your Majesty. What is to become of me?’ Vasuket looked helplessly at the weeping man, his lips moving silently.

Taking the tutor aside, Saahas tried to explain, ‘Sir, His Majesty needs our support, our love, not our sorrow. I beg you to get a hold on yourself.’

‘So now I must learn from the one responsible for this tragedy,’ Chakrawaru grated, his features contorting. ‘Oh yes, frown at me. If you hadn’t gone off on your silly adventure, my Anuj would have never taken it into his head to do something so foolhardy. He always wanted to be like you.’

An iron band tightened around Saahas’s heart. ‘Yes, and that is why it is your fault, not mine,’ he hurled back. ‘You never cared for the prince. All you cared about was your precious job.’

‘How dare you! I adored him.’

Enraged and anguished, Saahas cried out, ‘Then why didn’t you allow him to follow his heart?’

Falling back, Chakrawaru muttered, ‘He was frail, weak.’

‘No!’ The vehement retort sounded like the crack of a whip. ‘If you hadn’t smothered him, he would have been alive today. My father would have been alive today.’

‘You have gone mad, general, mad with grief,’ Chakrawaru recovered his poise, his tone scathing. ‘I loved the prince, as he loved me.’

Saahas shook his head, dashing a hand across his eyes. ‘He pitied you.’

‘P-p-pitied me? What do you mean?’ Clawing at Saahas, he tried to stall him, but the latter shook him off. ‘Don’t you dare walk away from me,’ he screamed. But Saahas didn’t stop, nor glance back at the whimpering man. A vein throbbed in Chakrawaru’s forehead. ‘One day, general, I swear you will pay dearly for humiliating me.’

‘If only someone had stopped Anuj,’ Vasuket whispered, wandering through the chambers that had till recently echoed with the laughter of his boys. ‘If only Agraj had waited for me to return.’ His eyes misting over, he sat down on the bed, caressing the pillow with one hand.

A cough broke his reverie. Chakrawaru bowed, ‘Your Majesty, the council of ministers wishes to know if you will attend court today.’

Vasuket swallowed his tears. ‘I don’t have the energy.’

‘Perhaps I could be of some use, Your Majesty,’ Chakrawaru looked earnestly humble. ‘I could take care of mundane affairs for you.’

Vasuket looked at him, a drowning man clutching at a straw. ‘Yes,’ he agreed. ‘You could be my advisor, a medium between me and the court, just till I feel better again.’

‘And this is how,’ Destiny reminds us, ‘King Vasuket became a recluse, his present so wrapped in his past that quite soon he came to resemble a ghost entombed within the palace walls.’

‘If only I hadn’t gone off on my silly adventure.’ Saahas stood in his father’s room, acutely aware of an emptiness within him. Meghabhuti had been the friend who had completed his sentences, the older brother who had sensed his every emotion, the father he had adored. The old house still rang with Meghabhuti’s booming laughter and Saahas fled often to the old monastery, to its solitude. Wandering through it one day, he stumbled over a pile of bricks. A corner of a book peeped out, tucked away a long time ago and forgotten.

‘Our picture book!’ he exclaimed, flipping through the stained, mouldy pages that he and Anuj had put together, smiling ruefully at the childish drawings. It was a tribute to King Yajatha, one of Aum’s greatest monarchs. On the last page was scribbled, ‘Truth at any cost,’ and above it was drawn a serious face, the moustache drooping, the crown on the head, a trifle askew.

In a flash he recalled the day Anuj had taken him into the picture gallery and shown him Yajatha’s portrait. Neither of the princes had known much about the king and so he had asked Meghabhuti. Saahas wrinkled his brow in an effort to remember. The words ‘terrible personal sacrifice for the well-being of Aum’ came back to him, loud and clear.

The memory was a revelation, offering sudden clarity. Strength returned to him and he knew what he had to do. ‘The military will not only guard the borders of the kingdom, but also safeguard the Aum way of life, of justice, freedom, equality and goodness. Truth at any cost.’ Suddenly, a burden eased from his heart, as if he had finally won his father’s approval.