The Rise of Sivagami : Book 1 of Baahubali - Before the Beginning

by Anand Neelakantan

  When Rajavaidya Madhavaru came, he paused for a moment on seeing the boy. His face became grave as he neared his patient. He checked his pulse and his eyelids. He kept his head on the boy’s chest and frowned.

  ‘I am sorry,’ he said.

  ‘Is the poor boy dead?’ the prince cried in anguish.

  Madhavaru shook his head, ‘I wish he was, but his is a fate worse than death. He lives, but only barely. Even if he ever opens his eyes, which I doubt he will, he will never walk. In fact he has lost the use of his body. It would be better if he does not suffer like this and dies.’

  ‘No, no, no,’ the prince cried, holding the rajavaidya’s hands. ‘We cannot let him die. We will take care of him.’

  The rajavaidya nodded grimly and dressed the wound in Uthanga’s head. Skandadasa asked Revamma, ‘How did the boy get injured?’

  ‘He fell down the stairs,’ Prince Mahadeva said before anyone could answer.

  ‘He was pushed down,’ a voice from the back cried out. There was a collective gasp.

  ‘Pushed down? By whom?’ Skandadasa snapped, and there was an uneasy silence.

  ‘The new girl who has come today. The daughter of that traitor who was hanged,’ cried the same voice from the rear.

  ‘Says who? Come forward and talk without fear,’ Skandadasa said, and Thondaka came out from the crowd.

  ‘Swami, he is lying. It was just an accident,’ Revamma hurried to say, and Prince Mahadeva supported her. The others were noncommittal. Skandadasa had to believe the prince’s version, though he decided that he would enquire into the matter later.

  ‘Can he be kept in the rajavaidya’s home until he recovers?’ Prince Mahadeva asked.

  ‘That would be unwise. My home is already spilling over with patients and he needs constant care. Sir, if he is to be kept at my house, I need some boys from the orphanage to take care of him. He would need help for everything except breathing and I can’t spare anyone for a hopeless case. As I already said, I think it would be kind to…’

  ‘No, sir, I don’t want anyone talking about killing the boy. You should be ashamed,’ Prince Mahadeva’s face was red with anger. ‘You, a man sworn to save lives, is advising killing.’

  ‘That is the only mercy we can show him now,’ Rajavaidya Madhavaru said, unfazed by the prince’s anger.

  ‘Never mind your mercy. Revamma?’ The prince turned to the caretaker of the orphanage. ‘I want him to be taken care of at the royal orphanage.’

  ‘Swami—’

  ‘Even if it takes three decades for him to recover or die, we will take care of him.’

  ‘But swami, it will be expensive.’ Revamma stood scratching behind her ears.

  ‘All expenses will be taken care of,’ the prince said. There was a murmur amongst the crowd. Revamma appeared pleased. Soon the procession left for the orphanage with the injured Uthanga. The rajavaidya went with them to give instructions on the treatment of the injured boy. Skandadasa was about to return to his chamber, when he saw that the prince was still there.

  ‘Your Highness, I have a few questions for you.’ Skandadasa said. Prince Mahadeva stood with his arms crossed and his head bent, as if in deep thought.

  ‘If you are going to ask me how I went out, I am not going to tell you, sir. I am fed up of living like a caged parrot. I know one day you will find out my secret escape route and close that option too, but until then I want to hold on to the little pleasures I can manage,’ Mahadeva said.

  ‘Your Highness, it is for your good and safety that I have put these restrictions. It was as per His Royal Majesty’s orders,’ Skandadasa said, bowing deep. He could understand the prince’s frustration but he had to do his duty.

  The prince stood deep in thought for some moments. Then he turned to Skandadasa and said, ‘Sir, can I trust you?’

  Skandadasa drew himself to his full height and said, ‘Always, Your Highness. Your father will vouch for my trustworthiness.’

  Skandadasa knew he had made a mistake the moment he uttered the words. His father’s name seemed to have made the prince more withdrawn. From inside his chamber, Skandadasa could hear Brihannala humming a song. Mahadeva looked here and there, as if scared someone would overhear them. Skandadasa’s patience was wearing thin.

  ‘Your Highness…’

  ‘My brother is in danger.’

  The suddenness of the statement startled Skandadasa. The prince mistook his shocked silence for disbelief. He took Skandadasa’s hands in his and told him what he had seen in the palanquin. He revealed that, by now, his brother was probably in Kalika’s den and that he was scared for him.

  Skandadasa allowed the prince to complete his frenzied appeal. Alarms were ringing in his head. He had heard reports that Keki was around and that she had visited Brihannala. His spies, who he had stationed near the port to watch out for Jeemotha’s ships, had also informed him that Pattaraya’s chariot had been seen on the path leading to Kalika’s den. He had assumed Keki might have come to solicit Pattaraya and a few others for Kalika.

  Though Skandadasa’s morals were inflexible, he knew that such visits to the pleasure chambers were common. Neither the king nor Mahapradhana Parameswara cared too much about it. What people did with any part of their body was not the concern of the state, his superior was fond of reminding him. That was another resentment he had against Mahishmathi. No one valued his honesty, his kindness or his morals. No one bothered about his devotion to god. He had once tried to expose a few nobles enjoying their time with some whores, but was ridiculed by the entire court. His spies often reported drunken conversations in taverns about Skandadasa’s continued bachelorhood. These conversations, the spies told him with a smirk, always ended with some tasteless comments about his possible impotency.

  Skandadasa thought about the problem at hand. Prince Bijjala had foolishly gone to a dangerous place. Anything could happen there. He shuddered at the thought of someone kidnapping or killing Bijjala in Kalika’s den, that too on his watch. God was offering him a chance to redeem himself. He had to go there and save the prince.

  ‘Your Highness, I will immediately proceed to Kalika’s den and see to it that the older prince does not come to any harm. However, I cannot let the people who compromised the security of the crown prince go unpunished. There will be a trial and the culprits will have to answer the court. But I will try to make it a private trial to avoid embarrassment.’

  ‘Sir, sir, please…’ Prince Mahadeva’s eyes filled up.

  These privileged kids wilt at the smallest of adversities, Skandadasa thought.

  He threw his head back, spine erect, and drew himself to his full height, ‘I am sorry, Your Highness. If you thought I wouldn’t report such a big security breach to the maharaja, you came to the wrong person.’

  Prince Mahadeva bowed, turned on his heels and left. Skandadasa felt bad as he watched the prince walk away, his shoulders stooped, his head hanging in worry.

  He went inside and closed the door gently. When he turned, he froze. Brihannala was sitting in his chair, reading the records inscribed on the palm leaves.

  When Brihannala saw him, she stood up with a smile. Her diamond-studded nose ring sparkled in the lamp-light when she turned her head, but her teeth had more brilliance.

  ‘How dare you meddle with my official records?’ Skandadasa asked, trying hard to control his temper.

  ‘Ha, you only asked me to check these. It is tallied now. Would you care to check again?’ Brihannala smiled

  Skandadasa was sure she had destroyed the record of the extra drummer. Skandadasa had never liked Brihannala. Keki was devious, but Brihannala was the more cunning of the two.

  ‘You…you…’ Skandadasa was at a loss for words. His lips trembled with rage and he wagged a finger at Brihannala.

  ‘Rage becomes you, swami,’ the eunuch said, bowing low.

  Her irreverence always got on his nerves. Had she not been a eunuch, he would have had her thrown out.

  ‘Don’t forget tha
t you are talking to the upapradhana of the country,’ Skandadasa’s fists curled in anger.

  ‘Swami, how can I forget that? The girls in Antapura say you look like a bear dancer, but I have always argued that you have a heart of gold. So what if you are not handsome? We all respect you, swami.’ She bowed again with folded hands.

  Skandadasa closed his eyes and took a deep breath. The ‘bear dancer’ was an allusion to his caste. And that was the least of the insults. But more than anything, her false humility was what irritated him the most.

  It took all his self-control for Skandadasa to restrain himself from hitting her. He wished he had never sent for her. He had no clue how to deal with her. You lack a sense of humour, he could hear Parameswara’s voice in his head.

  ‘I have no time for your buffoonery, eunuch. I will meet you tomorrow. Get lost now.’

  ‘Why are you breaking a poor eunuch’s heart by being angry, swami? I beg your pardon if I have angered you.’

  ‘Guards,’ Skandadasa shouted.

  ‘Easy, easy, swami. Ayyo, you get angry so quickly.’

  ‘Guards!’

  Brihannala prostrated herself on the floor and cried, ‘Apologies, if I have offended you, Swami.’

  Two guards came into the room and bowed. Idiots, he thought, taking their own time to answer his summons.

  ‘Arrange a dozen armed guards and ready my horse,’ Skandadasa said.

  The guards bowed and left.

  ‘Where are you going, swami?’ Brihannala asked.

  ‘To Kalika’s den.’

  ‘Aha, aha, I am fortunate to witness this dedication. You are not even waiting for dawn. The country’s interest is supreme to you. What patriotism, what a sense of duty. You are the pride of Mahishmathi. You are going to save Prince Bijjala.’

  Skandadasa stared at her. Brihannala realized her mistake a tad too late.

  ‘How do you know that the prince is at Kalika’s den?’ he asked. Brihannala’s face went white as a sheet.

  ‘Your tongue has got you into trouble, isn’t it?’ Skandadasa smiled at her discomfiture.

  ‘If my swami wants, I will stop speaking forever. You are such a great man. Mahishmathi needs more men like you. I am always your servant, swami. Jai Mahishmathi!’ Brihannala said and tried to leave the chamber.

  Skandadasa smiled at her. In a swift motion, he unsheathed his sword and pointed it at her throat. ‘You are coming with me, my servant. I am impressed by your devotion. I know you were professionally trained at Kalika’s inn by her mother. You know the place, in and out. Who better to accompany me on this mission? Let us serve our country together, patriot,’ he said with a sly smile.

  Who said he did not have a sense of humour, he thought and grinned at his own joke, enjoying the terrified look on Brihannala’s face.

  SIXTEEN

  Sivagami

  Uthanga was brought back to the orphanage and carried to the storeroom. Sacks containing dried chillies, pepper and ginger were moved to one side. Rice sacks were piled up in another corner. The plantain that had been hung to ripen was taken out and hung from the veranda roof. The floor was cleaned to make space. A few mice were bludgeoned to death and some spiders accompanied them to the abode of Yama. A cot with broken legs was quickly repaired and put in a corner of the storeroom.

  The boy was carried there amid yelling and shouting, and placed on rough sacks spread over the cot. Someone brought some old rags, bundled it up, and made a pillow out of it. They placed the drooling head of Uthanga on it. His arms and legs were tucked in, and an old sari of Revamma’s was torn into two and used to cover him.

  Sivagami stood, making herself as invisible as possible behind a pillar, and watched everything. She kept biting her nails every time the crowd around the boy moved a little and she got a glimpse of him. Oh, god what have I done, what have I done, she kept repeating in her mind. She wanted to cry her heart out, but she could not.

  ‘Thank god he is not dead.’

  Sivagami started when she heard the whisper near her ears.

  ‘Kamakshi,’ she exclaimed, keeping her hand over her heart. Her eyes filled up and she turned away, leaning her head on a pillar. ‘I want to die. What have I done!’ she cried. Her friend hugged her to her bosom and Sivagami began sobbing. She felt numb, and neither Kamakshi’s gentle words nor her soothing hands that patted her back helped Sivagami.

  ‘I hope you are happy now, bitch,’ a harsh voice broke in.

  Thondaka was standing with his arms behind his back. There were three boys behind him. Their eyes were full of hatred.

  ‘Thondaka, don’t create a scene,’ Kamakshi warned him. He pushed her away and lunged at Sivagami. In a flash a knife came slashing at her face. It would have sliced off her nose had she not turned away in the blink of an eye. Kamakshi was screaming murder, calling for Revamma, or anyone who could help.

  Sivagami saw the other three boys rushing at her with sticks and iron pestles. She ducked the next swipe of the knife and pushed Thondaka away. It was a kitchen knife, she noticed. Not good for stabbing. He could only slash with it. While she was trying to assess the danger, one of the boys punched Kamakshi in her left eye and Sivagami saw her go down. That made her furious.

  ‘I did not do anything, I did not, you bastards,’ she screamed. When the knife came again, she grabbed it. She seemed oblivious to the pain as the sharp edge cut her fingers. She was only barely aware of the warm blood that trickled down to her elbow.

  A sharp pain shot up her right shoulder. A boy was aiming to hit her again with a stick. Her leg shot out and caught him between his legs. He collapsed on his knees, clutching his groin. A pestle blow was aimed at her head, but she felled the boy with a sharp kick on his kneecap. The pestle blasted the wall, showering her with lime plaster and brick chips. A fist slammed below her ribcage and took her breath away for a moment.

  Space, space is what I need, she told herself, as she tried to breathe. A kick to her abdomen loosened her grip. She felt the knife slipping away, slashing her inner palm. Blood burst from the fresh cut. She saw the flash of the knife as Thondaka raised it. With a sudden burst of energy, she caught his wrist and flipped him over her shoulders. Thondaka collapsed on his friends. That gave her some time to escape from the corner. She somersaulted over them, yanked Kamakshi up from the floor and ran. She could hear them chasing her. She and Kamakshi ran through the crowded veranda with boys and girls yelling after them. They were baying for her blood. She could not have cared less. Thondaka was chasing them, thrashing wildly with his knife.

  Do the unexpected, Uncle Thimma’s words, which he had uttered many times during her training, came to her mind.

  She slowed down so Thondaka could reach her. She stood holding a pillar, panting. Kamakshi trembled and screamed as Thondaka and his friends closed in. Sivagami stood as if she had not heard them approach. As expected, he came for her with his knife raised. She ducked at the last moment, turned and caught his midriff. She shoved him, using his own momentum, to fling him forward to the pillar.

  Thondaka’s face crashed on the stone pillar, breaking his row of protruding front teeth. His knife fell from his hand and clanged on the floor. He collapsed on all fours, and blood from his cut lips and broken nose pooled before him on the floor. He appeared dazed. Sivagami used her knee to smash his ribs and he toppled over to his side. The other boys hesitated. She picked up the knife from the floor and pointed it at them. They backtracked. She held Kamakshi’s hand and walked straight to them. The boy she had kicked in the groin tried to aim a blow with his stick, but she did not have to even look at him before slashing her knife at him. He fell down, clutching his bleeding wrist while the other two took off.

  She walked past the shocked rows of boys and girls. Revamma was screaming her head off, saying the daughter of the traitor had killed her boys. Sivagami walked by her without even bothering to glance at her.

  ‘A rakshasi, a yakshi…or else how can she defeat me. Only god can save us from this witch,’
she heard Thondaka crying. Soon the cries of ‘yakshi’ and ‘rakshasi’ rose like an angry chant. She turned on her heels and threw the knife at Thondaka. The knife grazed Thondaka’s neck, went past the pillar and struck the wall. The sound of its hilt vibrating could be heard in the shocked silence that followed.

  Sivagami went to the storeroom with Kamakshi close behind and shut the door. She collapsed on her knees and buried her face in her palms. Her skirt was wet with blood and her chest burned with every breath she took. The acidic smell of pepper and chillies from the sacks made it worse. Kamakshi fussed around to get something to stop the bleeding from her palm. Sivagami dragged herself to the cot where Uthanga was lying unconscious.

  She looked at the immobile face of the boy without a word as Kamakshi dressed her palm with turmeric. Sivagami sat still like a statue, never taking her eyes off Uthanga’s face. She did not respond even when Kamakshi untied her kaunchika and touched the sore point under her right breast. Blood had clotted in a lemon-sized bruise below her breast.

  Kamakshi felt Sivagami’s ribs and said, ‘Does it hurt?’ There was no response from Sivagami.

  ‘Fortunately, nothing seems to be broken,’ Kamakshi said while wiping blood from Sivagami’s face, back and breasts. She applied turmeric on the wounds and retied Sivagami’s kaunchika.

  Sivagami leaned her head on the bed where Uthanga lay. Tears started flowing from her eyes and her body shook with sobs. ‘Sorry, sorry,’ she whispered.

  ‘He will be all right. Let us not lose hope. You did not do it, Sivagami. No need to feel so guilty,’ Kamakshi said, but that elicited no response from Sivagami. Kamakshi sighed and moved away to examine her eyes by the lamp. ‘I look horrible,’ Kamakshi said, touching her black eye. ‘I am going to murder that boy.’

  There was still no response from Sivagami. Kamakshi reached to squeeze her friend’s shoulder and shook her head when she found her silently crying.