21

Manmaani frowned in disbelief, certain the Gondi was hallucinating. ‘Are you drunk?’ Her voice was sharp with repugnance.

‘No, no, Your Majesty, not dare I in your presence. If I lie, my tongue you may cut out.’

‘I’ll let Raja Shunen be the judge of that, and you know him. He will not be satisfied with just one little part of you,’ she warned.

‘Why would he return to certain death? It is impossible!’ Shunen broke into a sweat.

Manmaani shook her head, ‘Bukkal is not lying.’

‘Did he say whether Saahas was alone? No, of course he wouldn’t be alone. He must have brought his men.’ Suddenly, Shunen smote his forehead. ‘I am a fool to believe you. The Gondi is mistaken. He may have seen someone who reminded him of Saahas. Didn’t he tell you that the man wore a wooden leg? Ha! There you go. This is someone else altogether.’

‘Saahas has every reason to be in disguise.’

‘But what does he hope to achieve with just a handful of his men?’

Manmaani raised her eyebrows, her expression arch. ‘What won’t a man do to reclaim what is his, especially when it’s the throne of a kingdom? Besides, I suspect the people still hold him in affection.’

Shunen instinctively clutched the pagdi on his head, the seven emeralds reset in a circle, the largest winking in the centre. ‘They have affection for that murderer? Then they all deserve to die with him. Traitors!’ He turned on his brother suddenly, ‘What have you been doing about the border security, Ashwath? If this is indeed Saahas, how did he get past your men?’

‘I doubt it is him, but don’t worry, I will ferret him out even if I have to comb every inch of Aham,’ Ashwath cracked his knuckles. ‘As a matter of fact, I did come across a khanjja, but I forget where.’

‘Yes, you look for him, and I shall send for Arigotra.’

Ushered into the pearl throne room, the astrologer stood quietly, calm resignation evident in every line of his body. ‘Tell me, how long will I reign over Aham?’ demanded the Raja, crooking his finger at him, beckoning him closer.

Climbing the steps to the throne, Arigotra glanced at Shunen’s tense face. ‘Your rule, Your Majesty, depends on your actions.’

‘I knew it!’ Shunen’s eyes gleamed. ‘It will be a long reign, am I right?’ The undercurrent in his voice chilled the space between the two men.

‘Your Majesty,’ he answered slowly, ‘your reign will last for another three years. It could be more, but, as I said before, it depends on the choices you make.’

‘You lie,’ he hissed, fear lurking under the hooded lids. ‘Who else can be king but me? You are a charlatan. You dare to fool me! Your punishment can only be death.’

Arigotra fell to his knees, ‘I could have lied to save my life, Your Majesty, but I know my time is up. For my son’s sake, I beg you, give me a quick death.’

The green shine of the emeralds in the crown reflected eerily in Shunen’s eyes. ‘I just hate that word, quick. It causes too many sloppy mistakes.’

When Arigotra didn’t return home that evening or the following day, Prem ventured out into the dark streets, asking passers-by if they had seen his father. The night was sweltering hot and the people brushed past him, eager to be home with their families. But one kindly soul stopped, hearing the boy’s desperate plea.

‘Go to the main square,’ he said, refusing to divulge anything more.

The guards had not bothered to keep watch over the astrologer or to wet his parched lips with one last cool drink. Alone in the silent square, he moaned, praying desperately for death. Then a heart-rending scream pierced the night. Prem stared up at him, eyes wide in horror, trembling at the sight of his father nailed to a wooden post.

‘Please, God,’ Arigotra wept, looking heavenward, ‘spare my child this suffering. Take me now.’

The beating of hooves on the cobbled road came like an answer to his prayer. His head jerked towards the sound. A man on a horse raced towards him, his sword raised high.

‘I am going to bring down the post and take you away from here,’ the stranger screamed, anguished urgency in his voice.

The astrologer shook his head violently, crying out, ‘Don’t do it, please. Don’t do it. I won’t last the night.’

‘We are wasting too much time.’

‘No, please, listen to me,’ Arigotra entreated. ‘It will be all in vain. I cannot outrun Destiny.’

‘Destiny be damned,’ growled the stranger, his sword glimmering in the moonlight, eager to hack the timber. Arigotra frowned. The distinctive pattern of the metal caught his attention. His gaze shifted quickly to the stranger’s face, assessing the eyes, the forehead. He made an odd sound, a sobbing laugh deep in his throat.

‘Only you have the courage in this godforsaken city to help me. To you I will disclose what I know.’ He paused to draw a painful breath. ‘Aum’s fate will change after seven years.’ To Prem he said tenderly, ‘Wait for Saahas’s return, son.’

‘Seven years,’ the stranger exclaimed. ‘Why will it take that long? Saahas and his brigade must return soon to reclaim Aum.’

Arigotra’s mouth twisted into a painful smile. ‘You will achieve nothing if you come back before the period ends. Besides, you will put your men in grave danger. The Saade Saati is upon you. It started for you, Saahas, on the day King Vasuket died.’

Saade Saati! Saahas stared at the astrologer in bewilderment.

‘You are Saahas?’ the boy shook his arm. ‘Then, please, save my father. You can do anything, anything.’

The astrologer continued in a frantic voice, ‘Hear me well. The Saade Saati is a period of seven and a half years that comes, at least once, in everyone’s lifetime, a period when all attempts end in failure. Eight months of it have already passed. Less than seven years remain. Go away, my lord, and only return when the time turns auspicious.’

The dying man’s words smote Saahas with the finality of a hammer. They laid bare his helplessness, making him acutely conscious that the hopes he had cherished on his journey back to Aham were laughably puerile.

His eyes blurred with tears, every cell in his body at one with Arigotra’s suffering. ‘I heard of the crucifixion and couldn’t bear to leave without trying to help you. But I haven’t been able to do anything for you.’

‘There is something you can do, my lord. The pain is unbearable. Please, release me from it.’

‘Father!’ Prem’s piteous cry shook his small frame, his hands clutching the bleeding feet.

‘Do not despair,’ Arigotra gasped. ‘Say goodbye with a smile. I’ll be able to go in peace.’

The sword found its mark, running through his heart, and the body jerked once before going limp on the wooden frame.