‘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!’
18
‘Which way are we headed, sire?’ Tota glanced at Saahas’s grim profile.
‘To the north. I want to take us to the Yamathig Mountains. My father once told me of a safe place there.’
‘Then let’s take a circuitous route, exiting through the east gate.’
Saahas frowned. ‘Why? We can lose ourselves among the hundreds of traders and visitors passing through the north gate, and head directly to Yamathig.’
‘And I am certain Shunen will be thinking along the same lines, sire. I can bet you the north gate is heavily guarded, the soldiers just waiting for us to show up.’
Pausing only to feed the horses, they rode as if pursued by a demon, arriving at the east gate in three days. The surprised sentries quickly informed their officer of the general’s arrival. ‘My lord, what an honour to have you in our midst,’ the officer hurried over, casting a puzzled glance at the general’s drawn features.
Saahas shook his head, ‘We are not stopping. Be so good to have the gate opened immediately.’
The officer looked askance. ‘Sire, what is the matter?’
‘Didn’t you hear the general?’ Tota’s voice had a bite to it. Flustered, the officer gave the order and as the heavy gates creaked open, Saahas threw a look over his shoulder, the look of a hunted man, forced to leave the only life he had ever known.
They had been riding in the meadow bordering Swarus when the gentle soughing of the wind wafted towards them, soothing their tormented hearts. The horses galloped towards it, urged on by it and turned east.
‘What are they doing, sire?’ The brigade tugged at the reins. ‘Why aren’t they obeying our command?’
‘Look,’ Saahas shouted, pointing ahead. Someone was waving at them. It was Amsha, his lips puckered on his fantastic flute.
‘Stop awhile in Swarus,’ he said. ‘It will be a safe haven for you.’
‘My dear general,’ Saahas swallowed the lump in his throat, ‘perhaps you have not heard of the heinous charge levelled at me. I am—’
‘Don’t worry yourself about it,’ Amsha dismissed it with a wave. ‘The charge is serious, and I am sure one day you will be able to overturn it, but, until then, why not accept our hospitality?’
‘Swarus may have to pay a steep price for giving me, a killer, refuge. No, Amsha. It is best we be on our way.’
‘Then allow me to make you vanish into thin air. No man or hound will be able to follow you.’ Blowing a few, soft notes, he stirred up the wind. It swept away the smells, shifted the dirt to cover tracks and drew a misty veil over the fugitives.
The white mist withdrew and Saahas looked around. Keeping off the main highway, they had crossed the northern borders of Aum into thick wilderness. A faint barking reached their ears. ‘Has Shunen sent hounds after us?’ The brigade looked around in alarm. Then again, a koyal clamoured urgently as if to say, ‘Don’t look back, run, run as fast as you can.’
Saahas urged his horse into a gallop, the officers hastening after him, their hearts bleeding a little more with every step that took them further away from their homes and families. And as they hurried onward, a great flapping overhead made them look up. Smaller than crows and as black as ravens, a flock of fork-tailed birds circled above them. The birds kept pace with the horses on the ground, their red eyes fixed on the riders. The barking of dogs rang loudly now, interspersed with the koyal’s plaintive call.
‘Drongo,’ Saahas cried out incredulously. He had read about them a long time ago and had laughed heartily then, disbelieving every word. The book had explained that the bird was notorious for its ability to mimic other creatures, using this astonishing skill to mislead, deceive and steal.
Reining in his horse, Saahas stood tall in the stirrups, waving his sword over his head. ‘Go away, you tricksters,’ he shouted. ‘Leave us alone,’ and the drongos wheeled away, heading towards Aum. ‘It makes sense that they should go that way,’ he said, his voice savage. ‘King Shunen beckons them.’
Yamathig eluded them. Week after week, even as spring gave way to summer, the mountains remained out of reach. Many a time, when they halted at small kingdoms to replenish their reserves, some officers wished to stay on. ‘We could stop here, the people look friendly,’ they said wistfully.
But Tota shook his head. ‘What if they betray us? The horrible rumour of our king’s death is bound to travel. Perhaps it follows us even as we speak. These realms, little more than villages, would be happy to hand us over to Shunen.’
And so they continued, covering mile after mile, riding rough through wild countryside and narrow tracks. At long last, grey mountains loomed before them, hunched together like heavy-set wrestlers, blocking their path.
‘Yamathig,’ Saahas announced, his voice light with relief but the officers, weary in body and spirit, shivered, the craggy, bare range breathing down a wintry chill. ‘This is a bleak place,’ they told him. ‘Are you certain our sanctuary lies here?’
That night, Tota approached him softly, observing his general’s gaze turned skywards. ‘My father told me of the Saptarishi,’ Saahas said, continuing to search the stars. ‘That they watch over us, guide us. Could it be true, Tota, or is it just a story?’ His hand closed on Vasuket’s ring dangling against his chest.
‘It is a tribal belief that the hand that created the earth and the sky, wrote stories about them on the tongues of men,’ Tota’s voice was gentle, one that he used for comforting his infant daughter. ‘And that hand does not lie.’
‘Yes,’ Saahas agreed eagerly. ‘I think I saw them the night I set out to meet Amsha. But,’ his shoulders slumped, ‘I cannot be sure.’ Sighing, he got to his feet. ‘We must start searching for the Abode of the Detached One tomorrow.’
‘And how do we find it, sire?’
‘We look for a peak, the tallest of them, made up of boulders, balanced, as if by magic.’
Later that night, he lay awake, listening to the heavy breathing of his exhausted brigade. Some officers tossed restlessly in their sleep, and others mumbled the names of loved ones. Holding back his tears with an effort, he silently implored the sky. One star, among a billion, caught his attention, glowing more brightly than the rest, and as he continued to watch, six other stars brightened, quite apart from each other. When he traced lines between them with his finger, they formed a triangle, two rows of three stars each, with the last at the apex, shining bluish-white, just like the seventh unblemished diamond in Vasuket’s signet ring.
Staring at the formation intently, he willed it to offer some guidance. But all too soon, the triangle began to fade, losing itself amongst the other stars, leaving only the solitary seventh to shine on. A wave of exhaustion washed over him, the star’s presence reassuring him. His heavy lids drooped and quite without warning, he fell asleep.
A chill roused him awake. The sky was beginning to lighten
and the seventh sage still twinkled, resting as if on the clearly discernible tip of a mountain, the tallest peak, its large boulders placed one on top of the other haphazardly. ‘As if by magic,’ Saahas whispered and shook Tota. ‘Look, it is the mountain we seek! There lies our destination.’
Each trail they followed went full circle, leading them back to where they had started, a cave at the base of the mountain. After hours of going down every rocky path, Saahas confessed to Tota, ‘Perhaps I am mistaken about this mountain. How much food do we have left?’
‘Enough for a day or two, sire.’
Sighing without knowing it, he flung himself down at the lip of the cave, the chillum in his hand, forgotten.
Lushai looked at him, anxiously searching the well-loved face. The bones had become prominent. The curved mouth, so used to laughter, was compressed into a tight grim line. Pain had shadowed the once sparkling eyes and the high forehead was perpetually creased in worry.
A tiny bird hopped up near Saahas’s feet, chirruping persistently and catching his attention. ‘A robin,’ he murmured, noting its brown feathers and the red tuft under its tail. The bird bobbed its little head in acknowledgement, and after a few moments in which they considered each other steadily, it fluttered its wings and flew into the cave. Saahas jumped to his feet, running after it, calling out to the brigade, ‘The bird may lead us to another trail.’
They followed it into the thick darkness, its sweet chirrups ahead of them. ‘We have come too deep into the cave, sire,’ Tota said. ‘There doesn’t seem to be anything ahead.’
‘I feel the bird knows a way out. Why else would it continue forward?’
The ground beneath their feet altered, from stony hard to a thick cushion of grass and fallen leaves, the air transforming from dank to sweet-smelling and fresh. All of sudden, the gloom parted, unveiling a forest palpitating in waves of yellow light. The men stopped and stared. Under the cave’s large canopy, a lush landscape, in all shades of green, spread out before them. Saahas looked to the robin and it darted before him, zigzagging through the trees, flying straight towards a woman with long silver hair.
The Crown of Seven Stars Page 9