16

There was an insistent pain deep within his head. Ashwath shivered, squeezing his eyes shut. The winter in Sundernagari felt particularly severe. A pair of dry, rough palms rubbed his face. Hussuri’s skin hadn’t softened despite the milk baths, the lotions and the potions.

‘Don’t,’ he brushed her hands away. ‘I have a headache.’

‘This will make it better,’ and she pulled out a parchment.

‘I’m not in the mood for your poems,’ he snarled.

Hussuri appraised him, his sagging shoulders, his gloomy face. ‘What is it?’

He pressed his fingers to his burning eyes. ‘Thwarted. I’m being thwarted at every turn. The King of Swarus has refused to send my request for a khanda to Dakhini.’

‘So? You ask Dakhini.’

‘I can’t. Dakhini is under Swarus’s protection and its metalsmiths are the only ones who can make me a khanda, now that . . . well . . . Kurikas is no more . . . but only if King Odav tells them to, and he won’t.’

‘The nerve of that man. Annexe his silly kingdom.’

He sat up, his pulse quickening. ‘You are right. I, the commander, should extend Aum’s borders. It is my duty to crush Swarus and anyone else who dares to diminish me. Then I can have all the khandas in the world. Victory must be mine, at any cost.’

Arriving at the armoury, he surprised the soldiers on duty. ‘It must have been thrilling to have fought the Ugr with these weapons,’ he remarked, inspecting the spears and catapults.

‘Not many of the heavy weapons were used, Your Highness,’ the officer-in-charge offered diffidently. ‘General Meghabhuti drove them away before it became a full-scale war.’

‘A full-scale war,’ he murmured. ‘Would you like to fight one? Tell me honestly, with your hand on your heart.’

The men exchanged sidelong glances. ‘We haven’t given it much thought.’

‘But what if there was one? Are you prepared to fight?’

‘What do you have in mind, commander?’

‘I want to teach Swarus a lesson, for denying my king a small favour, for insulting him and Aum.’

The soldiers gasped, outrage apparent on every face. ‘We are ready my lord,’ the officer’s voice thrilled with excitement. ‘We are trained warriors, trained to kill or be killed. This is what we signed up for.’

‘Aye,’ cried the rest in unison, pumping their fists.

‘You make me very happy,’ Ashwath’s voice boomed in the depot. ‘With this war, we will bring glory to Aum.’

The faint pink streaks lightening the eastern sky promised a rosy dawn. Saahas rolled out of his blanket and lighting his chillum, went to the edge of the cliff, his glance sweeping over the ring of hills. A stillness entered his heart and he closed his eyes.

‘Aum,’ he intoned aloud. And the hills answered, ‘Auuuummm.’ Tears pricked under his eyelids and he opened his arms as if to embrace the world, the wind in his hair.

‘Sire,’ a smiling voice intruded his thoughts. His eyes flew open.

‘Ah, Tota,’ he threw his arms around his aide-de-camp. ‘Did you just get back? How is the baby?’

Tota laughed. ‘She’s a handful . . . keeps my wife up all night.’

‘May Aum be her strength, her inspiration.’ The two men stood together in companionable silence, watching the crimson sky turn gold, the colours reflecting in the rainbow spray of countless streams rushing into the valley below.

‘Sire,’ Tota said again. ‘I am worried about Bukkal. He is acting strange, secretive. My people say he is not what he used to be, not the same chief.’

‘Our king seems to have changed too,’ Saahas murmured.

‘True,’ Tota nodded. ‘Not one in the brigade can stomach that Ashwath, who has no experience of the military, is our commander.’

‘A missive from the king,’ Lushai called out, panting up to them. ‘The messenger is waiting if you wish to send back a reply, my lord.’

A radiant smile broke over Saahas’s face, dispelling the crease between his brows. ‘At last! I’ve been waiting for word from him.’ He broke the seal eagerly, but the joy was short-lived. ‘Kurikas is dead, an accident.’ A pulse began to beat in his temple. ‘And . . . and so is Chakrawaru. He killed himself.’ He looked at Tota in disbelief.

‘Should we return to Sundernagari, sire?’

Before Saahas could reply, the clatter of hoofs reached their ears. A soldier rode up in a terrific hurry, his horse in a lather.

‘General, the commander wants you to meet him at the east outpost as soon as possible.’

‘Duty demands I obey the commander,’ he crumpled Vasuket’s note, his face set. ‘Tota, tell the brigade we ride immediately.’

The forest trail led them to the highway, going east. It was unusually busy, thick with soldiers and animals, all loaded with weapons, forcing them to slow down. ‘Looks like the commander has ordered a drill,’ Tota remarked.

‘General,’ a young soldier rode up to Saahas, ‘it will be an honour to fight alongside you.’

‘I don’t understand,’ Saahas frowned.

The soldier laughed, the feverish recklessness unmistakable. ‘It’s no longer a secret, general. Everyone’s talking about the war with Swarus. See you on the battlefield.’

‘Why didn’t the commander consult us, sire?’ the brigade exclaimed, indignant.

‘He is unhinged,’ Tota burst out.

‘There must be some mistake,’ Saahas thought quickly. ‘I must meet the prince as soon as possible. Clear a path through this crowd,’ he ordered the brigade. Scribbling a quick note, he handed it to Lushai with the explicit order that it must be delivered to His Majesty. ‘Return immediately with a reply,’ and digging his heels in his horse’s flanks, he raced down the narrow track, Tota following closely behind.

‘Should you be meeting him at this hour?’ Tota nodded at the moon, high up in the sky. ‘He could be asleep. Besides, you could do with some rest, sire. It has taken us two whole days in the saddle to get here.’

‘There is no better time than now. The lives of my men are at stake.’ Without waiting to wash off the dirt, Saahas rode directly to the commander’s barrack.

He found Ashwath awake, contemplating his sword. It was an ordinary iron blade, cleverly fashioned to resemble Shakti, its broad surface ending in a sharp point, similar to the famous khanda.

‘This news of war,’ Saahas began without a formal greeting, ‘is it true, commander?’

The directness of his question angered Ashwath, his hands balling into fists. ‘Yes,’ he rasped, thrusting out his chin.

Saahas took a moment to respond, his voice quiet, ‘Swarus is our greatest ally. There exists an age-old treaty between our kingdoms.’

‘And what about the insult to my father, to me? No ally would ever behave the way Swarus has. The treaty is null and void, and yet, general, out of the generosity of my heart, I have given Swarus a chance to redeem itself.’ Saahas’s eyes widened in disbelief but Ashwath swept on, ‘If King Odav offers an apology, I shall consider calling off the war.’

A strong urge to knock Ashwath senseless overwhelmed him. Controlling himself, he said in an even tone, ‘I doubt you’ll get that apology, for Swarus would never inflict a deliberate insult.’

‘Oh, so I’ve made a mistake!’ Ashwath’s arms spun like wheels. ‘All this preparation is a blunder then, is it, general?’

‘Yes, and you will lead my men to certain death.’

‘Your men?’ The veins in Ashwath’s neck stood out blue and thick. ‘This is my army and I command it as I command you. If it weren’t for me, these soldiers would have long forgotten their one and only duty to Aum, to extend its borders—not build barns and bridges.’

‘Even so, commander, I will wait to hear from His Majesty,’ and turning on his heel, Saahas left abruptly.

Ashwath swore, ‘I will not be thwarted again. A war I will have at any cost.’

The steward peeped into the king’s chamber. Vasuket was alone, in bed, but not asleep, his pale fingers plucking at his collar as if it were suffocating him. ‘Come in,’ he gestured weakly.

‘Your Majesty,’ the steward bowed, swallowing a sudden lump in his throat. ‘It is an urgent message from the general. His man has ridden non-stop to get it to you as quickly as possible.’

Vasuket’s sickly countenance lit up. Sitting up with some effort, he read the note, twice over, his face turning grey. ‘Fetch the queen,’ he managed to say, ‘and Prince Shunen. Now!’

When Manmaani bustled in, she was surprised by the crackling tension in the room. Shunen looked thunderous and Vasuket, despite his poor health, paced the floor frantically. ‘Read this,’ he handed her the note, his voice terse.

Her breath caught in her throat. The message was succinct in its anxiety. ‘Your Majesty, the commander is assembling the army all along the eastern border. I have reason to believe he means to go to war with Swarus. Does this have your sanction? Awaiting your command, General Saahas.’

‘This is all about the khanda,’ Vasuket muttered, distressed.

‘Did you not have any inkling about this?’ Manmaani rounded on her son.

The chief justice’s mouth tightened. ‘I did notice soldiers and weaponry moving out of the city and put it down to a military drill. But I am not surprised,’ he snorted. ‘Once he gets an idea in his head, big brother is like an angry bull, unstoppable.’

‘This would be breaking the treaty, an unprovoked war,’ Vasuket’s voice was harsh with worry. ‘Swarus will annihilate Aum.’

A field of dead men. Everywhere he looked, he saw a familiar face staring up with sightless eyes. Stumbling, he fell amidst a tangle of arms, legs, heads, entrails and then he saw Tota, a sword buried in his chest, face twisted in agony.

‘You should have stopped him.’ He looked up slowly. It was Amsha on a black horse, the magical flute in one hand. ‘You should have stopped Ashwath. Now run for your life, run as fast and as far as you can.’

Saahas jerked awake, his heart pounding. A sense of urgency compelled him to leave his tent, the cold night air stinging his face. It was a moonless night, the camp torches throwing eerie shadows against the black background. Riding to the low wall skirting the east border, he peered into the darkness, straining to listen. At first there was nothing but the faint rustle of grass. Then he heard it, the soft clink of metal, of a spear or a sword, and the low snort of a horse.

‘The Swarus army,’ he breathed. ‘Ashwath’s proposal has been rejected.’ His gut clenched. Why was Lushai taking so long to return? He should have been here by now, with the king’s reply.

‘Oh, what should I do father? What would you do?’ But the warmth of his father’s memories had long receded, Meghabhuti’s disappointment reaching out to him from the afterlife.

‘Yes, it is my fault,’ he acknowledged, slumping to his knees, stricken. ‘I should have been more alert.’ His gaze searched the sky desperately. ‘If you really exist, O Saptarishi, then you must know that Aum needs you, now more than ever. Help us, please.’

And as he looked on, it seemed to him that one by one, a triangle of seven stars brightened. Rubbing his eyes, he looked again, when the thud of hooves distracted him, bringing him to his feet. A mud-splattered Lushai slipped off his horse, stumbling towards him. ‘My lord, I am sorry it took me so long. There was a landslide on the way.’

Grabbing the message, he anxiously scanned it. ‘There must be no war with Swarus. Do whatever it takes to stop it.’ Vasuket’s instruction was authenticated by the impression of his signet ring, the symbol of the seven celestial stars in a triangle.

‘Do you see this, Lushai? There must be no war,’ he exulted and glanced up at the sky. The Saptarishi were nowhere to be seen, lost amongst the millions of twinkling stars.

‘What will you do, my lord?’

‘“Do whatever it takes,” he says. I will meet Amsha, even though it goes against the ethics of war,’ and leaping on his horse, he galloped towards the meadow.

Saahas saw him first, Amsha’s bejewelled head band glittering like a cluster of fireflies. The two friends nodded in greeting, their horses nuzzling each other. ‘I knew you would come,’ Amsha’s voice was as gentle as the sitar at bedtime. ‘Does your commander know you are here?’

Saahas shook his head. ‘He lies asleep in his barrack, a safe distance from the battlefield.’

Amsha snorted. ‘A few weeks ago, King Odav received a missive. Instead of a humble request, Ashwath had made a demand for the Dakhini sword, with an underlying threat. So, we were within our rights to refuse. He doesn’t deserve the khanda, and now it is obvious why. With or without the sword, he is determined to shed the blood of thousands of innocents.’

Sighing, Saahas rubbed his forehead. ‘I am sorry Amsha for this mess. I wish there were some way to stop him. My officers can’t get the soldiers to see sense. They are thrilled to be fighting their first war, not understanding it is an unnecessary one, that Aum only stands to lose.’

‘What if we could somehow convince them of that?’ Amsha’s fingers caressed his strange flute.

Something about his tone arrested Saahas’s attention. ‘You mean . . .’

‘Exactly! Come, this should be a lot of fun.’

Tota and the brigade cast an eye over the army. ‘They are restless,’ whispered one officer.

‘Yes, itching to spill blood.’

Just a few hours remained before the sound of a war conch would have them hurtling into battle. But the night seemed to drag on, stretching endlessly, the wait nerve-racking. Suddenly, a soldier straightened in his saddle. ‘Did you hear that . . . the sound of hooves?’ he asked another.

‘Look,’ screamed the latter pointing straight ahead, ‘it’s the general.’

Saahas emerged from the gloom, shouting at the men, ‘Move back, move back, quick! Get back inside the gate!’

The army gaped in horror. Close on the general’s heels loomed a gigantic wall of dark water, like a furiously churning sea. It appeared to touch the sky and stretched infinitely on either side, rushing to devour the man barely ahead of it.

‘A water monster! It will drown us all,’ cried the soldiers.

Pandemonium broke out in the ranks, the men jostling to wheel their horses and chariots around, the foot soldiers scrambling out of their way. A clear, ringing note of the flute was heard above the noise, a sharp command halting the phantom tsunami at the gate. The soldiers glanced back, terrified. The raging mass of water howled and hissed at them.

‘This will be an unequal war,’ they cried. ‘Swarus is using its magic, and our weapons will be useless against it. What are we to do, general?’

‘Go home. Swarus will withdraw the monster only after it sees us retreat.’

The Aum army left in a great cloud of dust, and as the last of it disappeared at the crack of dawn, the wall of water collapsed, briefly revealing Amsha, playing his extraordinary flute.

‘You are out of your mind,’ thundered Ashwath, bleary-eyed, and pushed past Saahas. Dashing out of the barracks, his frantic gaze swept over a vast, empty field. Dust motes swirled in the air, the only sign remaining of the quick retreat. ‘Where is my army?’ he screamed, swivelling around and drawing his sword. ‘I shall have you hanged! How dare you disobey me.’ Bellowing like an enraged beast, he charged at the general, heart aflame with red-hot hatred. ‘How dare you, how dare you, how—’

One single blow sent him staggering, half gasping, half grunting. Shakti glowed fiercely, intense and merciless. ‘I will not hesitate to kill you, prince,’ Saahas bit out the words, breathing hard, his gaze flinty, ‘but I am willing to spare you your life if you beg forgiveness of the king for this stupid, thoughtless misadventure.’

Vasuket looked at the grey fog hanging over his city and shuddered. His fingers involuntarily sought the signet ring, the warm metal reassuring him. ‘Aum is being tested,’ he told the steward. ‘Somehow we have to find the strength to tide over this crisis and then everything will be fine. Yes, then it will be as it was before.’

Sailing in with a steaming cup of brew, Manmaani smiled tenderly at her spouse. Vasuket took the cup from her but instantly wrinkled his nose. ‘I cannot drink this, dearest. Perhaps I have lost the taste for it in the last few days. The smell makes me nauseous.’

‘You mean to say, you haven’t been drinking it at all? But . . . but . . . you must have it, darling,’ she stuttered. ‘This is an energy-boosting infusion. It will give you all the strength you need, especially now.’

Vasuket waved his hand. ‘I am all right. In fact, I feel better, more alert. Take it away, please.’

Manmaani poured the poisoned tea down a drain, cursing Ashwath long and hard, ‘The idiot has ruined my well-laid plans.’ A flicker made her glance up. It was the king’s steward, looking at her uncertainly. ‘What do you want?’ she snapped.

The servant bowed. ‘His Majesty has just received news that our troops are returning from the east border. There will be no war.’