fifteen

Rama and Mohan left the road ten miles outside Madras and drove through forests for the next two hours along Buckingham canal until they reached the point where Cotter’s canal joined it. Here, Rama decided they needed to stop and get a little rest. They tied up the horses and rubbed them down with some hay before washing up themselves. After Rama changed his torn and grimy shirt for a clean white cotton shirt that Mohan had brought with him, they went in search of food.

There were a number of huts nearby that belonged to fishermen who worked in the lake at the other end of Cotter’s canal. This was a major source of fish in the region, and a very busy point with plenty of waterborne traffic and two piers. These were fairly independent communities and though they traded with the British, they also kept them at a distance. Rama knew the men would not betray him and Mohan even if they learnt that they were fugitives.

They walked into one of the commercial establishments on the pier and asked for three dosais each. The food was parcelled in little strips of plantain leaves and Rama and Mohan returned to their cart.

They ate in silence till Mohan looked up at his companion rather suddenly and asked, ‘So what is our next step, Rama?’

‘You go back to Damar. I’m going back to my wife and son.’

‘Are you sure that’s what you’re going to do?’ Mohan asked suspiciously. ‘Are you sure you’re not going after Hastings and Haider Ali?’

‘I’m sure,’ Rama replied, with a reassuring nod. ‘I have to go to my family.’

‘I don’t trust you, Rama.’

‘Well, I will go after Hastings and Haider Ali,’ Rama admitted. ‘But first, I’m going to check on my family.’

‘Let me come with you. I don’t want to let you go alone.’

Rama looked at his friend long and hard. Mohan had proven to be a huge asset, and while he appreciated that he needed help, he also knew’could not allow Mohan to risk his life for him.

‘It’s far too dangerous, Mohan, and the risk should be mine alone.’

‘Listen, you need me, and I don’t want you to go alone. We can stop at the village on the way to Chitoor, and I’ll pick up some more weapons.’

‘Mohan, I …’

‘Stop, Rama,’ Mohan cut in, holding up his hand. ‘I am going with you. That’s final.’

Rama smiled slowly and nodded. ‘Very well, brother. Let’s go to Chitoor.’

The next day, they woke up early and ate hot idlis with coconut chutney before heading towards Damar. Rama brooded silently while Mohan drove. His encounter with Periyavar had puzzled him. His guru had neither encouraged nor discouraged him from his course of action, but Rama really wanted some guidance. He wasn’t sure anymore if revenge would serve any purpose other than assuaging his own guilt. He believed in what he was doing. He knew he would never be satisfied until he had avenged his parents’ deaths, but he was not sure if it was worthwhile. He had other responsibilities. The Sri chakra and his family and, now, Mohan and his family.

Haider Ali and Hastings were two of the most powerful men in the region, and he knew taking both of them on was foolhardy. On the other hand, he realized they would never let the matter end there either. He was committed to fighting this battle to the death, because his enemies were too far into this campaign to give up. Better then that he be the aggressor, rather than be on the defensive when they attacked.

Unfortunately, Mohan did not agree with him; he thought Rama was too far steeped in thoughts of hatred and revenge to see things for how they were. The wheel, he said, was safely hidden away. Rama hastily pointed out that the only reason Mohan thought the wheel was safely hidden away was because no one knew exactly where it was. What would happen when the news that it was hidden somewhere in Tirumala got out, he asked Mohan. Neither Warren Hastings nor Haider Ali would hesitate to tear down the temple in their quest for the wheel. Mohan did not answer, merely maintaining that Rama had always sought violence as a solution to his problems.

When they reached Damar, Rama chose to stay at the temple with the horses while Mohan went home to get the weapons. The village was dead to Rama, as were all the things that had gone into making it his home.

‘We have swords, daggers and bows,’ Mohan told Rama when he returned an hour later carrying a sack filled with weapons. ‘And enough arrows to face a small army. Come, let’s be on our way.’ Rama stalled, ‘What did your parents say? Did they ask you where you had been? What did you say?’

‘Oh, nothing,’ Mohan replied, airily. ‘I told them that I had gone down to Madras with you to sort some work out, and that now I was going with you to Thanjavur. I needed to name some slightly faraway place so I could explain why I’ve been away for so long.’

Rama suddenly felt extremely moved. ‘You have always been there for me, Mohan. Thank you.’

The city of Chitoor was a flourishing one. It was situated about one and a half days’ travel from Damar, and Rama and Mohan reached there late in the morning of the second day.

They drove into a noisy, unsettled city with soldiers rushing everywhere. It seemed like they were preparing for war. Haider Ali was in the district, less than a day away, having recently arrived at the fort of Chandragiri. The coincidence was unmistakable, perhaps a sign from the gods. Whatever it was, Rama knew he had to make the first move. He had no idea why Haider Ali was in Chitoor, but he knew he couldn’t let him leave.

Rama was hesitant to go to his wife’s parents’ home without speaking to Sita first. He decided to wait in the marketplace for a while till he could meet her alone. He told Mohan that she used to buy vegetables fresh every afternoon for the next morning’s cooking, and that it was more than likely that she would do the same while she was living with her parents.

Chitoor was a prosperous town, filled with a variety of traders and businesses. The news of Haider Ali’s imminent attack did not seem to have affected commerce much, unless, Rama reflected, it was generally even busier than this. The afternoon was busy with travelling minstrels playing music in different quarters, and people shouting to each other across the marketplace.

Rama drove to the mouth of the street where his in-laws lived and stopped the cart, not sure what to do next.

‘We could eat at that tiffin stall,’ Mohan said, pointing across the road. ‘It’s right across from the street, so we should see your wife whenever she gets here.’

‘Good idea,’ Rama replied, nodding his head in agreement ‘I was thinking of something heavier, but no doubt she will cook us something when we go home.’

They went into the stall and ordered two pessarettus each, which arrived five minutes later along with a vessel of spicy gojju: a concoction of onions, tomatoes, garlic and green chillies. As they ate, Rama observed the people walking in the crowded marketplace of Chitoor. Though it was a busy little town, it still seemed relatively untouched by the British. Of course, there were a few white people moving about, but they were traders rather than invaders.

It was at one time the capital of the kingdom of Chitoor, or what was now known as Chitoor district. Ruled till the sixteenth century by the Vijayanagar empire, it was taken over by Venkatapatideva Maharaya of the Aravidu dynasty. The capital was brought to Chitoor when the king began ruling from Chandragiri fort instead of Hampi, the traditional seat of the Vijayanagar royalty. The fort had grown in importance for the next two hundred years till the sultan of Golconda took over. The sultan had been defeated by the British and the French in consecutive battles and driven out from the fort. It was here that Haider Ali had now set himself up.

Just as Rama finished his first pesarettu, he noticed Sita walking into the marketplace, and stopping by a vegetable vendor. As he looked at her, Rama drew a deep breath. He still could not believe her beauty had meant nothing to him for so long. As she walked towards the cart, her head held high, Rama remembered how it felt to hold her in his arms. Her eyes, which looked so authoritative and unapproachable, twinkled with love when she looked at him, and he wondered again whether he was doing the right thing in fighting two such powerful enemies. Shouldn’t he be content with growing old with her?

Pushing his second pesarettu towards Mohan as he got to his feet, Rama said, ‘Here, finish this. She is here.’

He went behind the stall to wash his hands and, when he emerged, saw his wife examining a pumpkin. Rama waited by the entrance of the tiffin stall and watched as she picked out plantains, okra and sweet potatoes. He started moving towards her as she paid the vendor, and was within five feet of her when she picked up the little bag filled with vegetables, turned and saw him. For a second she stood still and stared at him before running up to him and clutching his arm.

‘Aiyyo, I was so worried about you!’

Rama said nothing, merely holding her tight despite the disapproving glances all around. He hadn’t seen her in over a month, and he didn’t care what anyone would think of him embracing her in public. After a minute, however, she pulled away and said admonishingly, ‘I thought you said you’d be with us soon! This isn’t soon.’

‘I know, my love. I’m sorry,’ Rama replied. ‘It’s a long story and I’ll tell you about it at home. Wait here, I’ll back in a minute with my friend.’

‘What friend is this?’ she asked, slightly alarmed. ‘We have finished eating. I’ll have to cook again. That might take some time.’

‘That’s all right,’ Rama replied, squeezing her hand tightly. ‘We just had some pesarettus.’

‘Hurry up,’ she said. ‘I want to hear about all that happened to you. I don’t like that beard. It makes you look older than you are.’

‘Well, then I suppose I’ll have to visit a barber,’ he smiled as he walked back to the tiffin stall. A weight had been lifted off his chest; he had been wondering about his wife’s reaction on his return. Entering the stall, he went up to Mohan, who was still eating, ‘Hurry up, will you? My wife is waiting for us.’

‘Ah, so you found her. Is she well?’ Mohan asked through mouthfuls. ‘This pesarettu is really good, I feel like another one.’

‘She’ll make us lunch when we get home. Come on, don’t waste time.’

‘All right. All right. Stay calm.’

While Mohan went to the back to wash his hands, Rama paid the stall owner. When Mohan returned they walked towards Sita.

‘I have sent for the barber so that that monstrosity can come off,’ she told Rama. ‘Do you want anything special for lunch?’

‘Sita, this is my childhood friend, Mohan.’ Rama replied, patting his friend on the shoulder. ‘And no, just normal saapaadu will do.’

Sita smiled at Mohan, ‘Namaskaram. I hope my husband has been taking good care of you?’

‘Well, Amma, he has done his best to get me into trouble,’ Mohan replied, putting his hands together in greeting.

‘Mohan and I have been best friends since we were very small,’ Rama told her. ‘I got him into trouble frequently.’

‘Oh, poor thing!’ she exclaimed with a dimpled smile. ‘Come, let’s go home.’

As they walked to Sita’s parents’ home, Sita asked Rama whether his trip had been useful. Rama, not quite sure how to respond, just told her that it had, before bombarding her with questions about the town and how little Pattabhi had taken to living there. Their son, she said, was extremely happy and very mischievous. Living with his grandparents seemed to be good for him. He was talking quite well in Telugu already, and was reciting a number of shlokas beautifully.

Sita’s parents had moved to Chitoor as soon as they had got their only daughter married off. They had bought a house from a family that was leaving for another town. It was a big house with a little garden in the front and a much larger one in the back. As they entered the garden, Pattabhi ran screaming towards his father, ‘Appa’s back, Appa’s back!’

‘Hello, little fellow,’ Rama said, picking his son up in his arms. ‘What’s all this I hear about you being mischievous?’

‘Krishna threw the stone that broke the mirror, Appa, not I,’ Pattabhi replied with an innocent expression. ‘All I did was play with him.’

‘Oh yes, he and his friend broke a mirror three houses down the road this morning,’ Sita broke in, in a severe tone. ‘He’s been simply incorrigible since he started befriending that boy.’

‘Krishna is my special friend, Appa. Wouldn’t you like to meet him?’

‘Yes, very much, Pattabhi,’ Rama said as he put his son down. Turning to his wife he continued, ‘Come; let’s meet your parents first.’

Sita’s father was tall and thin, and though he was only forty-five-years old, he moved and behaved like he was much older.

He peered at Rama warmly as they entered the house, but his smile waned a little when he saw Mohan.

‘Namaskaram, Ayya,’ Rama said, hands together in respect. ‘I’m sorry to arrive suddenly like this.’

‘Nonsense, Rama! This is your house.’

‘I’d like you to meet my oldest and best friend, Ayya, this is Mohan,’ Rama went on, indicating Mohan.

Sita’s father was nonplussed; he did not know whether to greet Mohan as a friend of his son-in-law, and therefore an honoured guest, or as a Shudra. Mohan took the decision out of his hands by going up to him and touching his feet in respect. Rama’s father-in-law compromised by putting his hands together and saying, ‘May the gods bless you, Thambi.’

Mohan stepped back and smiled. Sita’s father looked down quickly at the floor before calling out to his wife, ‘Shanthi, your son-in-law and his friend are here. Come in and greet them.’

Sita’s mother, a plump, pleasant-looking woman, entered the room, smiling, but the smile faded when she saw Mohan.

‘Oh!’ she said.

‘Shanthi, this is Rama’s childhood friend, Mohan,’ Sita’s father informed his wife.

‘Namaskaram, Mappilai,’ she greeted Rama, hands together.

‘Namaskaram, Thambi,’ she said, turning to Mohan.

‘Namaskaram, Mami,’ Rama greeted her.

‘How are you?’

‘I am doing well. Have you eaten yet?’

‘We had something to eat, but we would not mind eating a proper meal,’ he responded.

Whatever her sentiments about Mohan, all her instincts as a mother-in-law and hostess came to the fore and, squaring her shoulders, she said, ‘Give me fifteen minutes. I shall prepare a good hot meal for both of you.’

‘Thank you,’ they both replied simultaneously.

‘Sita, will you please come with me?’ Rama asked his wife.

Rama took her hands in his and started walking out when he remembered Mohan.

‘Mohan, will you come too, please?’

‘Coming,’ Mohan replied before turning to Sita’s parents. ‘I am honoured to meet both of you.’

Husband and wife responded by putting their hands together silently.

‘Mohan, why don’t you take little Pattabhi outside,’ Rama suggested as he took Sita into one of the rooms and told her the whole story, not omitting anything. She listened attentively, without interrupting. But when he got to the part about his mother’s death she began crying.

When Rama finished, she asked, ‘But the chakra is gone now, how will you find it?’

‘I’ll find it later. Haider Ali is camped nearby; this is my chance to avenge my parents’ deaths. This is a sign from the gods.’

‘No! ‘You can’t go. Please don’t do this.’

‘I must, Sita. Don’t worry, I promise I will be careful.’

‘Is Mohan going with you?’ Sita asked

‘Well, Mohan said he wasn’t going to let me go alone, but I hope to dissuade him from joining me.’

‘But why would you want to go alone?’

‘Because it’s just not fair to let Mohan risk his life. Here,’ he said, taking off his earrings and handing them to her. ‘Keep these for me.’

Her eyes swelled in fear. She had never seen him without his earrings.

‘Please, don’t do this,’ Sita pleaded. ‘Revenge is not worthwhile.’

‘You won’t lose me Sita. I promise. Please let me go.’

‘Then please take your friend with you. There’s strength in numbers.’

‘It really will not make much difference if one goes there or two. All right, I’ll take him with me.’

‘All right,’ Sita agreed grudgingly.

Rama took his wife in his arms, ‘I love you.’

‘And I love you. When are you leaving?’

‘Immediately. I just wanted to make sure that you and Pattabhi were all right. I’ll be back in a few days.’

As Rama exited the house, he saw his friend sitting under a tree with little Pattabhi on his lap.

Rama said to his son,

‘Pattabhi, go inside and help. Paati. I need to talk to Uncle.’

He looked at Mohan and said, simply, ‘We go after Haider Ali.’

Mohan only nodded in reply.

Later that afternoon, Rama and Mohan headed out towards the fort of Chandragiri where Haider Ali was camped. The fort was a few hours away. After buying some equipment they would require on this mission, the pair set off. Rama had shaved and was looking about ten years younger. Mohan rode on grimly, not saying a word till they approached the fort. It stood on a hillock, and the pink spires of the main palace could be seen from a distance, and as Rama dismounted, he realized that the walls of the fort weren’t very high and would be easy to scale.

Rama and Mohan decided to stay out of sight till long after nightfall. It was a dark night, the moon was almost completely gone and not much was visible. After a silent prayer thanking the gods, Rama took the first watch while Mohan slept.

The friends had not been able to make plans because neither knew the layout of the fort, and consequently had no idea what to expect. Based on what he could see, Rama realized that they would have to find a suitable place to scale the wall, and then a vantage point to observe what was going on inside the fort before they could launch their attack.

A little over two hours had passed when Rama heard footsteps approaching. He shook Mohan awake while clamping a hand over his mouth. Mohan snapped out of his sleep in an instant and looked up at Rama in the darkness, fear in his eyes.

‘Sshhh, it’s me. Someone is coming. We need to hide.’

Mohan quickly grabbed Rama’s hand and pulled it away from his mouth before noiselessly moving closer to the rock behind which they were sheltered. He moved quickly, but not quickly enough, for as he started moving, a patrol of two men came into sight. As he moved, the rustle that such a movement invariably entails was soft, but in the still of the night on those terrifyingly barren plains, it was as clear as a trumpet. The soldiers heard him, and one of them shouted out, ‘Who goes there?’

Rama and Mohan kept completely quiet, even as Rama quietly picked up a crossbow and fit a bolt into it. As the two soldiers started walking towards them, Rama put the crossbow his shoulder and, aiming at the silhouette of one of the two approaching guards, pulled the trigger and saw his projectile hit its mark right through the throat of the guard, bringing him down. His companion seemed very confused by the sudden turn of events and looked down uncertainly at the body of his companion.

‘Rangan? Get up, this isn’t funny.’

He bent down to examine the body, touched the arrow and leapt back to his feet. That was to be his last action, for his back had barely straightened before a bolt pierced his heart and he fell down, his hands clutching the arrow. He was dead in seconds.

Rama quickly ran up to the fallen bodies and dragged them both to the rock. As he did so, Mohan whispered, ‘What are you doing?’

‘Take their clothes.We’ll dress up as soldiers,’ Rama whispered, urgently. ‘Hurry.’

‘Isn’t it too soon to go in?’

‘We have no choice. These fellows are bound to be missed. We need to move fast. We have to scale the northern wall, so run towards it and throw a rope up to one of the ledges.’

They quickly removed the clothes off the two dead soldiers and dressed themselves in them. Light brown with red bordered shirts and veshtis with armour covering their torsos, and red turbans. After dressing up as Haider Ali’s soldiers, the pair tied their weapons to their bodies and picked up the crossbows before sprinting towards the fort’s walls. As they reached the northern face, Rama whirled a hook that he had tied to a long rope twice around, before throwing it up the wall. The hook landed on the ledge and, as Rama started pulling it gently, it caught the folded edge of the ledge. Mohan whispered, ‘You go up, and then pull me up.’

‘All right. See you in a minute.’

Slinging the crossbow over his shoulder, Rama started pulling himself up to the ledge. It was at a height of around fifteen feet from the ground and the wall itself would have been about twenty feet tall. Rama reached the ledge in a minute and moved aside before Mohan, feeling the rope go slack, proceeded to pull himself up. As he reached the ledge, Rama held his hand out and pulled Mohan up the last three feet. Once on the ledge, he signalled for Mohan to keep still as he carefully peered over the wall of the fort. Inside, there was row after row of tents of the soldiers of Haider’s army.

Rama looked around for the tent that would be Haider Ali’s. There was one tent that was much bigger than the rest, but it didn’t look like the commander’s tent. As his gaze moved across the lawns, they came to rest on the palace within the fort. It was brightly lit and there seemed to be life within. That was probably where Haider was staying; it had to be! He scanned the building for signs of where Haider might be sleeping and his eyes perceived the room right at the centre of the building, on the first floor. There was a large balcony there with no guards, as opposed to the floor above as well as the front door below, where there were guards. The room below was probably the room Haider was using as his bedchamber. How would he get up there? He scanned all the rooms around and realized that he would have to go through the ground floor. Reaching from the top was out of the question, as it was guarded. There were no other balconies on that face of the building and the walls looked most unsupportive. But how would he get through the front entrance, past the two guards that stood there? He would have to enter from one of the rooms on the side that had a window. The side that he could see looked fairly disused. He could enter from there and find the stairs leading to the first floor. Once on that floor, he would have to figure out how to enter Haider Ali’s bedroom.

As he looked at the balcony, which he presumed was Haider Ali’s, a man walked out onto the balcony in a long robe and a small hookah in his left hand. He was small and nondescript, save for the huge moustache that he sported over his upper lip. Even at that distance, Rama could make out that he was an unattractive man with a receding hairline. He wore a few heavy gold chains around his neck. This then had to be his quarry, though he didn’t look like a king.

Haider stood on the balcony for a little while, smoking and closely observing the mood in his camp. All looked peaceful. Suddenly Rama heard footsteps behind him. Looking down, he saw Mohan signalling to him to keep quiet. Looking past Mohan, he could make out the forms of two soldiers walking in their direction, under them. He had pulled the rope up after Mohan climbed; there was no way these guards would look in their direction, not unless they were expecting trouble. The soldiers walked on, chatting among themselves. They were talking too low for Rama to make out their words, but it seemed like a topic that caused them no worry. As they walked on, under them, past them and around the side of the building, Rama turned back to the palace. Haider Ali no longer was on the balcony. No doubt he had gone to bed. There were no lights coming from his room.

Looking to either side of him, Rama could make out a little tower to his extreme right, perhaps about three hundred feet. There was probably a soldier standing in the tower with his back to Rama, but he would not be able to see anything on that night. They would have to make sure they made very little noise. Signalling for Mohan to get up, Rama told him as soon as he was standing, ‘Haider Ali is in that room over there,’ he said, pointing at the room with the balcony. ‘The one on the first floor. We need to get to that room through the ground floor because there are guards both above and below his balcony. We can go through one of the windows on this side and get up to the first floor. I think the best thing we can do is to storm through the door and bar it behind us, but if he has already barred his room then we would be in trouble. My guess is that two guards are outside the room so we must shoot them down. For this we will go up the stairs quietly, try and spot his room, and shoot them down from the mouth of the stairs. We will have to do this at the same time, and then we can run in. Any questions?’

Mohan shook his head in reply. Rama gently fixed the grappling hook on to the wall and let the rope down on the other side, before sliding down the other side. Reaching the bottom, he moved aside and waited. Mohan joined him a minute later, landing very softly on the grass below. They both ran slowly along the wall till they reached the side from where they had planned to enter. They stopped for a moment and took a few deep breaths. The windows were completely dark. They definitely weren’t occupied and, considering that Haider had arrived at the fort only on the previous day, it did look like he had camped there temporarily. Rama quickly took off towards the largest window, with Mohan one step behind him. They reached the window and examined it. It was open. Climbing in, Rama waited for Mohan to follow. The room was completely bare, save for a door on the wall opposite from the window. Rama ran to this door and stood listening for signs of movement on the other side. There were none. Gently pulling the door open, Rama looked in. The lights of the torches on the walls showed that, it was empty. There were stairs to the left and to the right. He would take the one to the left so he could see Haider’s door from the mouth of the stairs.

Sprinting gently up the stairs with Mohan behind him, Rama climbed softly and kept looking up to make sure there were no guards at the top. There seemed to be none and, as Rama and Mohan reached the top stair, they could see the door of Haider’s room, with two guards standing outside. Rama was momentarily confused because he could see two more guards posted outside another room further down from the room they had assumed was Haider’s. Then he realized that the first room was more central, so his guess was that this was the more probable one. Turning to Mohan, he whispered into his ear, ‘The first set of guards is guarding Haider Ali’s room. We have to kill all four though, and pray that there are none on this side. I’ll take the one on the other side of the door both times. Keep a second arrow ready to fit into your bow as soon as we kill the first pair.’

Mohan nodded his understanding and Rama immediately pulled the crossbow and fit a bolt into the groove. He waited for Mohan to do so as they both took out second darts and placed them between their teeth. Then, taking aim, Rama and Mohan shot their crossbows simultaneously. The first pair slid to the ground, but as he fell, one of them did so with a clanking noise.

The other two quickly looked over but it was the last thing they did as Rama’s missile flew through his target’s eye and Mohan’s arrow went through the heart. They both slumped to the ground Rama ran over to the first door and gently tried pushing it open. It opened almost noiselessly.

Looking inside, Rama could make out a man in the bed with his back towards them. Mohan entered immediately behind him and slid the bar across the door. Haider turned towards them.

‘Who is that? Haven’t I told you all not to disturb me after I turn off my lights?’

‘So sorry. I think we missed that particular order,’ Rama replied.

Haider Ali stiffened.

‘Get up and fight, you son of a whore,’ Rama whispered through clenched teeth. ‘I am Ramaswami Aiyar, here to avenge myself for what you did to my parents.’

Haider Ali looked nonplussed for a moment and then shouted. ‘Guards!’ He looked at Rama and then at Mohan and said, ‘Surely you must realize that there is no way you will leave this place alive.’

Rama replied, ‘Haider Ali, perhaps you should not worry about that. If I were you, I’d be more concerned about my neck.’ Rama strode up to Haider Ali and held his sword to Haider’s neck. At this point, Haider went deathly still.

‘Get up and die like a man,’ Rama said. ‘Now!’

Haider was just out of bed when there was a knock on his door, and a voice called out, ‘Father, is everything all right? May I come in?’

Rama never once turned his back to Haider Ali as he contemplated the situation, looking at Haider with hatred dripping from his eyes.

‘Your son?’ And then, as Haider stayed unresponsive, ‘Damn you! You’re pure evil.’

Before Haider could react further, Rama slit his throat and, as he slumped to the ground, eyes filled with shock at the surprising turn of events, Rama turned the sword in his hand and plunged it straight into his heart. He was dead in an instant.

Meanwhile, the banging on the door had grown louder, and many voices could be heard outside.

‘We’re not going to make it, Mohan!’ Rama shouted. ‘Get out from the balcony.’

As they sprinted to the balcony, two guards landed from the floor above directly in front of them. As Rama and Mohan stopped and pulled their swords out, the door behind them burst open and guards spilled in. Rama and Mohan were trapped.

As they stood with their backs to each other, Rama facing the guards who had come in through the door and Mohan the guards who had jumped onto the balcony, a young man strode through the entrance to the room. He would not have been much more than thirty years old, a plump young man with a large moustache like his father’s. Rama stood face to face with Tipu.

As they stood thus, Tipu advanced on Rama and Mohan with a sword held out. ‘You filthy swine! You killed my father.’

‘He killed mine,’ Rama replied. ‘A score was settled today prince. Let us get out of here, and no one need be hurt any longer.’

‘You two are the ones who will be hurt,’ Tipu replied. ‘Guards, move in.’

The two guards on the balcony charged in and Mohan rushed towards them. He spiritedly swung his sword about violently, and the two guards who had rushed forward so enthusiastically could only deflect his blows.

Meanwhile, on the other side, Rama had moved towards the charging guards and had taken them head-on. The first two had come forward with their swords above their heads. Rama took his dagger out of his waistband and held it in his left hand, with his sword in the right. The soldier to his left brought his sword down first and Rama deflected his blow. With his sword, he cut into the other guard’s torso. As the soldier dropped his guard in pain, Rama moved his sword back towards the first guard who had attacked, who was able to deflect the blow. As they both pulled their swords back, Rama kicked at the second guard’s groin, and as the man fell down Rama moved in with his dagger aimed at the first one’s heart, plunging it in. The guards had barely fallen when Rama looked up and saw a guard swinging his sword towards Mohan’s back.

Mohan, who had killed one of his opponents, had no idea what was happening behind him and continued swinging his sword at the remaining guard, who was backing away, only deflecting his blows.

Rama quickly moved towards Mohan but as he did, he heard Tipu scream from behind him. Turning to face him as Tipu came charging with his sword held above his head, Rama held up his dagger as he swung his sword downward. Tipu quickly changed his posture as he tried to deflect the blow, but was too slow and the tip of Rama’s sword caught him in the chest. As Tipu allowed his right hand to fall towards it in pain, Rama quickly grabbed him and spun him around, his dagger held to Tipu’s neck as he backed away towards the wall.

‘All of you stop moving or your prince dies,’ he shouted.

Mohan had succeeded in killing the guard he had been fighting when Rama last saw him and was engaged in fighting off the soldier who had moved in behind him when Rama said these words. His opponent looked at Rama, and Mohan plunged his sword into the distracted guard’s stomach.

There had been some more men moving towards both Mohan and Rama, but everyone had stopped at Rama’s words and looked at their prince uncertainly, hoping for instructions.

‘Nobody needs to get hurt here,’ Rama said, as he turned towards Mohan. ‘Are you all right?’

‘I’m fine. Haven’t had this much fun in years,’ Mohan replied, grimly. ‘Let’s get out of here.’

Rama shouted, ‘Everybody get out of this room. Now, or your prince dies. I am going to leave this fort. Get a fast carriage with two horses ready immediately. I shall come down in an instant with your prince.’

‘You are not going to get out alive,’ Tipu told him. ‘Give up now and I shall kill you quickly.’

‘Generous, but I’ll take my chances,’ Rama replied. ‘Now shut up.’

The soldiers stood their ground, looking to Tipu to tell them what to do. Rama looked at them for an instant before digging the point of his dagger into Tipu’s neck roughly.

Still keeping his dagger pressed to Tipu’s neck, he whispered, ‘Tell your men to get out. You’re not in the best position right now. Follow my instructions and you may live.’

Tipu hesitated for a few more before shouting out, ‘All of you, out!’

As the soldiers left the room, Rama reached over to the bedside and picked up some ropes which lay there.

Tipu said nothing as Rama quickly bound his hands, before cutting off the rest of the rope and slinging it over his shoulder. Mohan came over behind Rama and said, ‘What now? Do you think this will work?’

‘I don’t see why not. What do you think, prince? Will we get out of here alive?’

‘Who are you?’ Tipu asked in reply.

‘My name is Ramaswami Aiyar,’ Rama replied.

‘Why did you kill my father?’

‘He killed my parents after getting my mother raped in front of my father and the whole village.’

Tipu looked at Rama quietly without saying anything.

‘Now let’s go downstairs.’

‘I’m sorry about your parents,’ Tipu blurted out.

Rama looked at him, surprised. Turning to Mohan, he shrugged his shoulders before turning back to Tipu and saying in reply, ‘Thank you. Let’s go.’

They walked down the stairs, Tipu in front with his hands tied in front of him, followed by Rama who was followed by Mohan guarding the rear.

There was no one on the stairs as they walked down. There were soldiers standing at the foot of the stairs, but they moved away as Rama and Mohan walked down with their hostage.

‘All of you move away!’ Rama shouted out. ‘Move completely away from us.’

They continued down the stairs and out of the front entrance. The sight that greeted their eyes terrified them for a second. They were facing the whole of Haider Ali’s army.

Rama jerked Tipu violently and whispered in his ear, ‘Shout out to everyone to move away from us and the road. Now!’

‘Get away,’ Tipu shouted. ‘I don’t want anyone to attempt to stop us.’

For a few seconds the army looked as if it would ignore the prince’s orders. Then one of the generals turned to face his squad and shouted out, ‘Men, fall back!’

Soon after the general shouted out these instructions, the others all followed. Rama shoved Tipu into the back of the waiting carriage before turning to Mohan and saying to him, ‘You get into the back with him. If anyone attacks us, kill him.’

Mohan nodded in reply and climbed into the back of the carriage while Rama went around to the front and climbed onto the driver’s seat before shouting out to the watching army, ‘I would be very careful about any attacks. If I feel even the smallest movement in my direction, your prince will be killed. Don’t make things worse for yourselves. Now everyone, stay out of the way.’

And grabbing the reins in his hands, Rama rode out of the fort.

They had driven for about three hours when Rama finally stopped. Getting down from his perch, he called out to Mohan, who alighted and said to him, ‘What now, Rama? What are we going to do with him?’ indicating the back of the carriage with a nod.

‘I’m going to find out if he knows anything about this business.’

He looked into the back of the carriage and said, ‘Could you please join us out here, prince?’

Tipu got out of the carriage slowly. After getting down, he looked from one man to the other before saying to Rama, ‘Well? What is it?’

‘Do you know who I am, prince?’

‘You told me. Ramaswami Aiyar,’ he replied shortly.

‘Do you know why I came after your father?’

Tipu looked puzzled as he replied, ‘Because my father killed your parents.’

‘My parents were Appayya Dikshitar of Damar village and his wife.’

Tipu looked more puzzled than ever. He seemed to hesitate for an instant before asking, ‘Is that supposed to mean anything to me?’

‘Come now! Are you trying to tell us you don’t know why your father attacked our village?’ Mohan asked loudly, a jeering look on his face

‘Yes,’ Tipu replied. ‘I have no idea what you people are trying to tell me.’

‘Oh please stop, prince.’ Mohan said to him, pushing him roughly. ‘We’re not fools.’

‘Maybe he doesn’t know, Mohan,’ Rama said to his friend. ‘We’re going to let you go now, prince. You should reach your army in a few hours.’

Tipu turned to him with a confused look on his face,

‘What? You are letting me go? Aren’t you worried I might come after you?’

‘If you choose to do so, prince, I can’t stop you. But I’ve already told you that your father got my mother raped in front of my father before killing both of them. If, after hearing that, you still want to kill me, then I can’t stop you. Only know that your father got his just desserts. Rule well, and unite your people with love.’

And, climbing back into the carriage with Mohan at his side, Rama drove away into the night.