17

The palace seemed too quiet, like the lull before the storm. Saahas shook his head, smiling a little. No, he was being fanciful. He looked at Vasuket and his face softened with affection.

Pacing the picture gallery, Vasuket’s abstracted gaze rested briefly on the dead kings. At last, he stopped before the portrait of his sons and sighed. ‘Anuj loved you every much.’ Turning around, he threw an arm around Saahas, ‘And for good reason.’

‘It is an honour to serve you and Aum, Your Majesty,’ the general flushed with happiness.

Vasuket nodded, ‘My mind is made up, Saahas. In fact, it was made up a long time ago, but I . . . I became distracted.’ Shaking his head, he muttered under his breath, ‘There’s no fool like an old fool,’ before continuing in a stronger voice, ‘I am determined to set things right. Perhaps this is the reason I am still alive,’ he beamed. ‘I am announcing you as my heir. The pagdi shall be placed on your head, and after me, when I am dead and gone, you will ascend to the throne of Aum.’

Saahas stared dumbfounded. ‘That is impossible, Your Majesty! You have already declared that one of your sons will be king, and I am not—’

‘I spoke the truth when I made that announcement,’ Vasuket interrupted. ‘Of all of my sons, only you have proven your ability to rule, to govern this kingdom.’

‘No, Your Majesty, it is my duty to serve the throne, just as my father commanded me, but to be king? Never!’

Vasuket made an impatient sound. ‘Don’t be stupid, use your head for a moment. You are the only one I know who puts the welfare of his countrymen above his own and that is the truest quality required in a king. You are loved and respected by all. Besides,’ he stopped, looking up at Yajatha, ‘he started the tradition of appointing kings based purely on merit. I am glad I remembered it in time.’

Manmaani’s heart leapt into her mouth. Huddled in the shadows, she listened breathlessly to every word. A whisper of a laugh blew into her ear. She started. It sounded like Chakrawaru, mocking her from the grave.

For a long moment, Saahas gazed at the portrait of King Yajatha. ‘My father said he made some terrible sacrifices. What if I can’t do that? What if I fail our people, Your Majesty?’

‘You can never fail them dear boy, you are their hero. Haven’t you heard little children singing songs about the courageous General Saahas? After you are crowned king, they will sing songs about their courageous King Saahasvajra! Come, indulge an old man. I don’t have too much time you know.’

Manmaani tore herself away from the gallery and darted to her rooms, shouting instructions to her servants to bring her sons to her immediately. In the privacy of her bedchamber, she pulled out a small wooden chest from under her bed. Inside it was a pouch, hidden under a mish-mash of roots and herbs. Rummaging within it, she finally found what she wanted.

As tall as her thumb, the glass bottle glowed blue in the lamplight. Manmaani looked at her sons. ‘Do you know what this contains? The venom of ten king cobras, dried into an ash. An ash so potent it can kill an entire army. But that is not what we want.’ A ghoulish laugh escaped her lips, ‘We only want the corpse of one old king!’

Early the next morning, Shunen rose from his bed and looked out of his window. ‘The murky air from our little town has followed us here,’ he remarked. ‘Moving with us like our shadow, and blocking out the poor sun. Ah! The sun, of course . . .’

Putting his hands together he bowed, the way he had seen Vasuket do, intoning under his breath, ‘Auum, auuhham, ahham.’ His hooded eyes flickered with a powerful emotion. ‘Aham!’

In that very instant, a terrifying scream rang out from the palace. It sent a shiver through the streets, freezing the blood in the city’s veins. It was only when they saw the golden flag of Aum flying at half-mast on the palace tower that the people understood. Old King Vasuket was dead.

Manmaani faced Shunen, her hands gripped together tightly. ‘Saahas will be here at any moment. You have to take care of him.’

‘And how do you propose I do that, mother?’

‘By arresting him for the murder of the king. He was the last person to see Vasuket alive.’

Ashwath frowned, ‘Who in his right mind would ever believe that the general wanted the king dead?’

Shunen answered, his voice supercilious, ‘Oh yes, they will believe it, even the military. Didn’t you say he attacked you? And your guards witnessed it. Well then, he tried again, but this time, Vasuket intervened and was killed instead. The entire army will turn against him and turn to you, big brother.’ He paused, eyes hard like marbles. ‘And then, mother, you will dutifully place the pagdi on my head, or else . . .’

‘No need for threats, Shunen. It will be as you say,’ she met his gaze squarely, her face cold and unreadable.

The chief justice nodded his satisfaction. ‘I look forward to Saahas’s trial.’

‘And I,’ declared Ashwath cracking his knuckles. ‘It shall give me great pleasure to watch his face when I seize his precious khanda.’

With his brow furrowed in grief, the general put on his uniform. ‘He said he didn’t have much time. But to leave us so soon—’ his voice broke.

‘We should assemble the brigade and hurry to the palace, sire,’ Tota urged him. ‘You must tell the queen everything about last night.’

His gaze locked with the aide-de-camp’s, ‘But what if the queen does not agree to declare me king? She has three princes in waiting. What if the princes revolt?’

‘Not if, sire, but when, for they will certainly revolt, and we will be ready for them.’

His hand closed on Vasuket’s signet ring, hanging from a string around his neck. The king had insisted he take it. ‘You are the only one I know who puts the welfare of his countrymen above his own,’ the voice of the dead man rang in his ears. ‘And that is the truest quality required in the monarch of Aum.’

Squaring his shoulders, he nodded at Tota. ‘Yes, we’ll be ready for them. Let’s go.’

‘My lord, wait,’ Lushai rushed in, accompanied by another man.

‘I’ve seen you before,’ Saahas frowned at the stranger.

‘I am His Majesty’s, I mean the late king’s steward,’ the man stammered, panic etched on his face. ‘I have terrible news, my lord. Prince Shunen is to be king and he is going to arrest you. You must run away. Please go away, as far away from here as possible.’

A wave of disbelief swept through the room. ‘Shunen! And king!’

The steward continued, his tone horrified, ‘The charge is that you . . . you . . .’

Tota shook him, ‘Spit it out! What is the charge?’

‘That the general murdered the king.’

Saahas blanched. ‘Why would I do that? I must go at once and clear up this matter.’

But Lushai and the steward barred his way. ‘I heard it with my own ears,’ the latter appealed, sounding desperate. ‘My lord, you don’t have time to lose. Please believe me, soldiers are on their way here.’

‘Sire, this is a conspiracy against you,’ Tota’s voice shook. ‘If only we could have had the chance to gather the army, then Shunen wouldn’t have dared to touch a hair of your head. But we can’t do anything now. On no account must you be arrested.’

‘Yes,’ agreed the steward, wringing his hands, ‘because you will be put to death. You must escape so that the truth can come to light one day.’

Saahas looked at the men, their fear palpable. They feared for him, their general’s life. ‘My brigade must come with me,’ he said pressing his eyes with shaking fingers. ‘If my life is in danger, all my officers will face certain death as well. Tota, make sure word is sent to everyone’s families that they must go into hiding until they hear from us. Then meet me at the old monastery. That route will take us safely out of Sundernagari.’

The men turned to leave but Saahas caught the steward’s arm, ‘Your name. I don’t know your name.’

‘Ashish, my lord.’

‘Ashish,’ he clasped the former’s hand. ‘You are indeed a blessing. Thank you.’

The steward’s eyes filled with tears. ‘It was only last spring when you bade me set up His Majesty’s breakfast in the garden. You made him smile again. One day soon, you will return, and I will be here, my lord, waiting for you.’

Dressed in a peasant’s rough clothes, Saahas threw a last instruction to Lushai, ‘Shunen’s men will be scouring the city. Set fire to the house. It will create a diversion and help us leave unnoticed.’

Dousing the house with oil, Lushai shot flaming arrows at its soaking walls. Within moments, Saahas’s home turned into an inferno, the flames leaping towards the roof. A large crowd began to gather just as the royal guards thundered up to it.

Another fire lit up the sky over Sundernagari—the funeral pyre of King Vasuket.

And in the hall of the pearl throne, Manmaani stood waiting on the dais, holding the glittering pagdi. Shunen ascended the marble steps slowly, his black robe trailing behind him. An intense exhilaration overpowered him, and for a moment he swayed. The citizenry held its breath. The news of Vasuket’s murder, at the hands of their adored general, had stunned them. Now they watched mutely, in the grip of cold fear.

When he reached the dais, Shunen paused, basking in the glow of the pearl throne, the throne of all the past kings, the throne that was now his. His eyes slid to the crown and Manmaani instantly stepped forward, placing the pagdi on his shaven head. A tremor ran through him and an ecstatic sigh escaped his lips.

Speaking in measured tones, he addressed the assembly, ‘I, Raja Shunen, solemnly swear to carry forward the legacy of our beloved king. I assure you that I will be what he was to all of us, a stern but gentle father and a just ruler.’

The citizenry sobbed. The new king appeared to dwarf his surroundings, his black robes sucking the brilliance of the pearl throne and diminishing it. The triangle of seven emeralds in the golden pagdi appeared to glint with a new hardness, perhaps borrowed from Shunen’s eyes.

‘My dear citizens, a new dawn is breaking over us, the dawn of new possibilities. Listen to your heart carefully and in it you will hear one resounding cry, I Am. It is none other than my consciousness pulsating in your veins. It is this I that is straining to recover its power, to establish its complete supremacy, to become the most powerful kingdom on earth, a kingdom called Aham. So, wipe off the tears, bid goodbye to feeble Aum and welcome a mighty force. Come, chant with me, Long Live Aham!’