Chapter 3

Recruitment

“For years, the Elders in Gurukul and their students have spread education and maintained peace throughout the civilised eastern lands.” Guru Vishwa’s voice echoed through the hall.

“From Sindhu in the west to Brahmaputra in the east, we have brought knowledge and security to the people of Aryavart. Everywhere, we are perceived as tutors, warriors and beings of another world. But we are men, men who chose the right path. The path to help fellowmen in their hour of need. For this, we have earned their praise and respect. And we will continue to do so with our hard work.

Every man and woman in this hall, every teacher, every student, and every family has made an enormous contribution to our noble cause and I thank them all for it. Today, we have assembled here to induct, into our Elders’ army, twenty recruits, who have been chosen through the previous year by the gurus of the Elders’ land. With the blessings of Mahaguru Shandilya, they will become part of our army and help us maintain peace in the eastern lands.”

Saying so, Guru Vishwa sat down on his high chair as applause reverberated through the Hall of Legends. It was the biggest hall in Elder Castle, located on the ground floor. At its far end, there was a raised platform on which were five chairs for the five gurus who made up the Elders’ council.

Two of them, Guru Amartya and Guru Raghav, oversaw the education. Guru Anand and Guru Rakshit supervised the army and Guru Vishwa, the chief elder, was the current leader of Gurukul. Guru Vishwa was sitting in the middle. On his right sat Guru Amartya and Guru Raghav. Guru Anand and Guru Rakshit were sitting on his left.

People sitting in front of the platform were seated according to the plan that had been followed for decades. At the front, there were twenty teachers whose students were going to be recruited that day. Around thirty other teachers from the village were sitting behind them. Then sat the families of teachers and recruits who had been invited for the ceremony and the feast in the evening.

On both sides of the platform were stone stairs that led to two doors on either side of the hall. The twenty recruits stood near one door, while the other door was closed. Behind the chairs of the gurus stood three men, clothed in red, gold and black robes, from shoulder to toe. Even their shoes were of the same colour as their robe. All the three men had swords hanging behind their back; the sword’s golden hilt was clearly visible even from a distance.

Among the recruits was Chandra, looking at the hall and its overwhelming appearance. Behind the raised platform was the huge statue of Guru Shandilya, his eyes focussed on the crowd as if he was watching over them from heaven.

Chandra turned his gaze towards the audience. He saw his uncle, Pradyuman, sitting in the front row on the side opposite him. He was a composed man whose face never betrayed his feelings. His aunt was sitting three rows behind him, with his cousin, who was clearly overawed with what he was viewing. Chandra let a smile pass through his face. He knew his cousin made jokes and tried to make fun of everything he saw, but deep within he was more like Uncle Pradyuman, focussed on his aim. And right now, he was silent because he was where he wanted to be a few years from now.

After Guru Vishwa sat, Guru Rakshit stood up. He was Guru Anand’s junior. He was going to call out the names of the recruits. After each name was called out, the recruit was expected to go in front of his or her guru’s chair and receive, from the guru, the weapon he or she was supposed to be best at. This weapon would be the mark of the student till his time in the army. Chandra knew his name was going to be called out in the end, because it was a tradition to call out the names according to decreasing order of age. So, his eyes drifted towards the audience once again.

He saw the teachers sitting in front, next to his uncle. They were older than him and they had visited their house many times. Teachers in Gurukul were like friends and not competitors and this made their students mingle with each other like brothers, rather than see other as rivals. Behind them, he saw more teachers, more faces he recognised.

Two names had been called out, there were seventeen to go before his turn.

Then Chandra’s eyes started scanning the families of teachers. He spotted a girl sitting two rows behind his aunt and cousin. She was about the same age as him. He couldn’t take his eyes off her. She was sitting silently, as the names were being called out, one by one, and people around her were clapping. But she just sat silently, looking around with her beautiful black eyes.

And then she heard a name. She started clapping and jumping up and down. A woman, who looked like her mother, told her something in her ear and she sat down embarrassed. But she still looked delighted.

Chandra was curious to see who she was clapping for. He turned his gaze towards the dais and saw a boy, who looked like the girl’s brother. He had her round and well-shaped face, elegant black hair, a pointy nose and fair skin. Only his expression was more mature and he seemed to be proud of himself. His teacher was Guru Mohak. The guru was giving the boy what looked like an axe.

Chandra remembered the time when his uncle started weapon training for him. He had given a detailed description of every weapon. He had said that wielding an axe was one of the most difficult tasks because the axe was a heavy weapon with a very little killing edge. He looked at the boy and felt both respect and apprehension at the same time. No wonder Guru Mohak seemed so proud of him.

And now it was time. The boy wielding the axe was the nineteenth recruit. It was Chandra’s turn now. Guru Rakshit had come to the end of his list of names. His loud voice boomed over the silent audience, “Our last recruit is Chandra, Guru Pradyuman’s finest student.”

As his name was called out, his uncle stood from his chair. Chandra started walking towards the platform amidst the applause. As he climbed the stairs and walked towards Guru Rakshit, he could see his aunt and cousin applauding. Parth was in fact jumping on his seat. And a few seats behind him, the beautiful girl, the axe wielder’s sister, was applauding as well, looking at him directly. Unknowingly, a smile crept across Chandra’s face as he moved forward. His uncle was now standing next to Guru Rakshit with a bag in his right hand.

Chandra knew what the bag contained but he hadn’t seen it. This was the first time he was going to see the gift from his aunt and uncle. This was the tradition during the recruitment ceremony. The family members of the recruit gave the recruit the weapon he or she was best at, to be preserved and used, if required, when the time came.

Chandra came in front of the gurus’ chairs and bent down on his knees to pay his respect to all the gurus. After all of them raised their right hand to bless him, Chandra stood on his feet and moved ahead to meet Guru Rakshit and his uncle. He bent down to touch Guru Rakshit’s feet and then his uncle’s. Both of them blessed him, one by one. He then stood on other side of Guru Rakshit.

Guru Rakshit motioned to Pradyuman, who then put his hand in the bag to pull out two swords, straight blades enclosed in their sheath, their hilt made of silver glinting in the light coming through the windows. The two sheaths were attached to each other, forming a cross in the middle of the length of the swords. They were further attached to two belts that were meant to be hung on the shoulders, so that, the swords went to the back and the hilts projected behind the shoulders.

Chandra once again went down on his knees. His uncle moved forward when Guru Rakshit nodded his head. Chandra raised his arms as Pradyuman passed the belts over his shoulders. The swords were fitted on his back. Pradyuman put his hands on Chandra’s shoulders and said slowly, “Rise my child, may these swords serve you as faithfully as they have served me.”

And then Chandra realised that his eyes were brimming with tears as he raised his head. He was moved, as his uncle had given him the swords that had been in his family for generations. When he saw his uncle’s face, he observed a smile on his face. Chandra then rose, with the audience still applauding. Then both Chandra and his uncle walked towards the other side of the stone platform and went down the stairs where all the recruits were standing with their teachers.

When the applause settled, Guru Rakshit announced, “In honour of the twenty gurus who have given twenty recruits this year, to our great cause, the ceremonial feast will be organised in the castle grounds in the evening. Every citizen of Gurukul is invited to the feast. The recruits will begin their training on the day of Ram Navami after Ram Aarti, that is ten days from now.”

After saying so, Guru Rakshit turned towards the other gurus as they started to stand up. Chandra turned towards the crowd and saw his aunt and cousin getting up from their chairs. He and his uncle slowly made their way towards them.

Chandra looked at the ever-focussed face of his uncle and noticed an expression he had never seen. It looked like satisfaction, as if his greatest work was finished.

Before he could ask his uncle anything, Parth arrived there. So, Chandra decided that the question could wait. As they joined the crowd leaving the Hall of Legends, he could see the girl he had seen before with her family. And that peculiar smile came back to his lips again, unknowingly.

***

Shwet Guru was riding fast now. The sun was almost overhead and he had a lot of ground to cover. Though he had been riding for three days now, neither he nor his steed showed any signs of exhaustion.

After killing the lone soldier on the road from Suryagarh, he had followed the carriage till they safely entered the capital of Anandmath. After that, there wasn’t much danger. So, he had turned back to report the developments. By morning, he had left the capital road and turned east towards Gurukul.

Soon he came across a stream, where he stopped to drink water. He let his horse graze and rest before they started for the valley. As the horse grazed, Shwet Guru went for a short walk along the stream. He was walking downstream when he heard the buzzing of flies and sniffed the smell of rotten flesh from the forest. He turned and saw his horse drinking water from the stream. He decided to investigate.

As he followed the sound and smell into the forest, he reached a clearing where he saw a burnt-out fireplace. By its side were the remains of a dead deer, left uneaten. Flies were buzzing around it.

Shwet Guru went closer and examined the footprints on the ground. The footprints and uneaten food clearly showed that at least twenty men had settled down in the place to eat not long ago. At the end of the clearing, towards the road, he could see trampled and half-eaten grass; this was perhaps the work of horses that had been tied to the nearby trees.

The evidence was clear. Not too long ago, perhaps the previous night, a group of men on horses had stopped in the forest on the road, which went directly to Elders’ Valley. And they had certainly not come from Gurukul, for no one coming from Gurukul would hunt and eat in the forests of the Elders’ land as it was forbidden by law. These men were going towards the valley and they didn’t know or care about the rule of the land.

Shwet Guru did not waste another moment thinking. He climbed on to his horse and started riding. He didn’t know who the men were and he didn’t intend to find out the wrong way, for an important event was taking place in Gurukul and he was not going to let anything horrible happen in the sacred place.

***

As the day inched towards evening and the sun went further west, Durgam stood outside the forest line to get a view of the valley that lay in front of his eyes. He had arrived with his men well in time. As the men settled down and got ready for what was about to happen in some time, Durgam was gripped by a feeling of exhilaration.

For years he had served his Lord without any question. He had always wanted to kill his enemies. He had been given an honour this time, when he was chosen for this particular task. He deserved the honour, even though he knew there would be no second chance if he couldn’t complete the task. Such was the will and power of his Lord, who did not accept failures.

But Durgam had never failed him and he did not intend to do so today. Like always, he did not know why he was supposed to do what he was about to, but he did not care about it. He considered himself an instrument of death, working for and enforcing the will of his Lord and he was going to do exactly that.

With one last look towards the valley and his target, Durgam went inside the forest, looking at his men who knew what the Lord had asked of them. These men were ready for it. Today, these men were going to paint the enemies’ castle with their own blood.

Durgam reached his horse and picked up his sword; its sharp iron blade was shining and ready to spill blood.