Dharaa and Riju exchanged a smiling glance before chorusing together, ‘We named him Saahas.’
‘So we leave immediately, sire.’ Tota and the brigade rode with Saahas through the column of soldiers, inspecting the regiments.
‘Yes. The Saade Saati ends in four months. I wish to reach the gates of Aham by then.’
‘It shall be done,’ the aide-de-camp’s eyes glinted with the light of battle. ‘We are fighting fit!’
‘I can see that,’ Saahas smilingly rejoined, appraising the bronzed and powerful physiques of his officers.
Tota’s gaze roamed over the much-loved face. The man that he had once known, strong of purpose and determined, had returned. Still, he perceived a subtle difference, a shift in his bearing. Even more regal than before, Saahas walked the earth like a proud owner, the keeper of life, appearing as tall as Yamathig. Awed, Tota murmured to no one in particular, ‘Fearless, that’s what he is.’
‘But naturally,’ replied one of his mates. ‘He is a king and he believes that now, and yet . . .’ the officer shook his head, unable to describe the other-worldly glow in the brown eyes.
Everyone wanted to bask in that light, crowding around him, eager to soak in it. ‘Do you feel it too?’ Riju nudged Dharaa. ‘I look at him and I feel so happy that I want to laugh out loud for no reason.’
Saahas caught them staring, a knowing smile spreading over his face. ‘We will spend many a night talking,’ he told them. ‘I shall regale you with my adventures, all leading to the most exciting one, when I became acquainted with the wonderful Rrum.’
‘Do you mean the colourful flame? We want to hear all about it too, my lord!’
‘What do you mean?’ He stared in astonishment at Riju and Dharaa.
The couple nodded their heads vigorously, ‘We are coming with you. Your war is our war too.’
‘No,’ he said sharply, ‘you have a child now.’
‘Sire, please let me explain,’ Dharaa began, looking at him gravely, ‘the battle for Aum is everyone’s battle. It is for the good of all . . . everywhere. The day that I finished training as a warrior, I knew in my heart that if you returned I would be by your side.’ Placing her hand on his, she added with a bright smile, ‘I want my son to grow up in Aum, bhaiyya, knowing Aum.’
39
Aranya followed, tiptoeing after the striding, joyful women and when they paused to look at her, she turned away, retreating shyly, her timorous green sprouts burying their heads back into the cracked earth. The tramping armies and animals learned to ignore her and that is when she started to gallop, burgeoning reddish-green saplings with the tenderest leaves, drawing up water from deep underground. But as the weeks sped by, she started to lag, taking longer to put forth shoots, the water, now a trickle, softening the hard, stony dirt inch by slow inch.
The once deep red highway winding through forests had disappeared, swallowed in the vast swathe of baked wastelands. A wind howled persistently, picking up hot grit and dashing it helter-skelter. Abandoned villages creaked mournfully, the bloated carcasses of their cattle lying scattered in barren fields, flies buzzing over them. ‘Death and decay,’ Saahas mused, looking around him, ‘we are nearing Aham.’
At close of day, the army reached a dry river bed and Saahas decided to camp in it, the still moist mud drawing Aranya towards them in a rush. Puffing on his chillum, he stood a long time staring into nothingness.
‘What is it, sire?’ Tota studied the pensive profile.
Saahas shook his head. ‘I sense something, as if someone is waiting to reach out to me.’ He looked at the stars, watching the night slowly fade, willing the unknown to appear. But it didn’t come, not in the morning, nor during the day. It was at dusk the next day when they finally appeared, seven stars forming a distinct triangle, brightening like white diamonds in the dust.
Saahas relaxed, in silent communion with the Saptarishi, his hand straying to Vasuket’s ring. The night deepened. The snuffling sounds of the animals quietened into sleep, the reassuring tramp of the soldiers on guard, steady and rhythmic.
‘What will be, will be. What is, is as it should be.’ Saahas turned at the sound of the voice and smiled. The two friends looked at each other, their eyes alight with deep affection, and simultaneously moved to embrace one another. Drawing back a little, Amsha appraised Saahas remarking with candour, ‘You look very well for a dead man, my friend. Staying away from Aham has done you good!’
‘And you haven’t aged one bit, general,’ Saahas retorted. ‘It must be that magic flute of yours. I will have to steal it!’
Amsha dimpled, ‘I saw you, not in a dream but with these eyes, wide open. You told me to watch out for you. For the past few days I have had my spies posted at very highway and village road and just yesterday they reported a large force marching in this direction. It seemed to be en route to Aham. I knew it had to be you!’
‘Our blood mingled a long time ago, Amsha. No wonder you knew of my coming.’
‘Then why did I believe you were dead?’
‘Well, in a way I was. Tell me, what’s happening in Aham?’
‘Chaos and very little else. Gangs roam the streets, killing and looting their own, all in the name of the Mother Goddess. And like termite eating wood from the inside, they have hollowed out the kingdom. One hard blow will bring it to its knees.’
‘What began centuries ago, is about to end.’
Amsha searched his face. ‘What took you so long? Do you realize it is almost eight years since you have been gone?’
Saahas shook his head slightly, a faint smile of remembrance on his lips. His gaze turned to the past, to a crucified man breathing his last, a boy, not more than seven years of age, desperately clutching his father’s mangled feet. ‘Seven and half to be exact,’ he murmured. ‘I need your help, Amsha.’
‘That is exactly why I chose to meet you before the battle,’ twinkled the general, slipping a slender, unassuming bamboo pipe into his hand. ‘You don’t have to steal my flute now!’ Turning serious, he continued, ‘Aham has provoked us many a time in the past and we would not be violating the treaty if we fought alongside you. But King Odav is of the opinion that this is your war, not ours.’
‘I understand.’ Saahas looked curiously at the flute. It had only one finger hole.
‘Yes,’ Amsha nodded. ‘It plays only a single whole note and it will obey your command just once. Think carefully of that which you wish to conjure. See it in your mind, its effect and result, and only then blow the pipe.’ Pulling out a scroll, he gave it to Saahas, ‘A message from Dakhini.’
Saahas read it aloud, ‘May you be victorious. Your khanda awaits you. Too long a prisoner, it is in danger of falling into a death-like sleep. Hurry.’ After a moment, he looked up, ‘Well, you are not the only one springing surprises, Amsha. I have one for you.’ Whispering in the ear of a soldier on duty, he smiled broadly at the general’s mystified expression. Two figures appeared, breaking into a run, whooping with joyful excitement.
Amsha’s eyes widened. ‘They are with you! And I worried for them all these long years.’
Saahas chuckled. Dharaa and Riju interrupted each other often, both wanting to narrate their adventures to the patient Amsha, both eager to extol the heroics of the other. When they finally finished, Saahas said softly, his glance meaningful, ‘My friends, the time has come for a certain goodbye. You must do it now.’
The young couple looked bewildered for a moment, then comprehension dawned on Dharaa’s face. ‘Yes, sire. It is best he goes to Swarus. I’ll go bring him but—’ her voice wobbled, her face drawn and pale, ‘—who will bathe him, feed him?’
‘I have spoken to Lushai. He will look after the child like his own.’
They clung to each other, a hand lifted in farewell, watching two horses vanish into the night, one carrying their sleeping infant away. ‘The separation will be short,’ Saahas promised. ‘You will see him sooner than you know.’
Riju nodded, his smile awry,
‘You are right, sire, but I can’t help feeling I should have held him more often in my arms, hugged him a little more.’
Dismounting from his horse, Saahas planted his feet in the middle of the dusty road, staring ahead of him. ‘This road leads directly to Aham, to its north gate,’ he told the brigade. ‘We all escaped through it one day, like fugitives, not knowing if we would ever return. And here we are now, ready to reclaim our rightful place, reunite with our families.’ A smile creased the corners of his mouth. He glanced at each of his officers, looking over their heads at Dharaa, Riju and the Vijaya Dal. ‘Standing here, I cannot help but reflect on our journey of the past few years. It makes this moment all the more—’ he shook his head, unable to speak further.
The smile that rippled through the group was bitter-sweet, a strong emotion seizing each of them by their throats, moistening their eyes. They looked at each other wonderingly, the same question in every face. Had they changed or had they grown? Would they delight once again in the old life, the old routine or would it be too cramped for them now?
‘That depends on you,’ Saahas said thoughtfully, ‘upon what you want. But first, we must plan our campaign.’ Taking a stout stick, he drew the map of Aham in the dirt.
‘We have six thousand cavalry soldiers, about eight thousand infantry and fifty elephants. Aham’s military is twice the size of ours.’ He looked around at the serious faces. ‘How do you suggest we outmanoeuvre them?’ A babble broke out amongst the officers, fingers jabbing often at the map, voices rising in heated arguments.
‘We should surprise them,’ Tota declared. ‘Attack the north gate at night.’
‘Surprise is a good strategy,’ he agreed, ‘but it is not enough. The road is narrow. It won’t allow us the breadth to launch an impressive strike.’
The men once again fell to discussing amongst themselves. Saahas’s gaze moved to Dharaa, watching her circle the map, frowning at it in silence. All of a sudden, she glanced up, ‘Sire, what if we attack all three gates at once?’
A hush fell over the group, an expression of astonishment on every face. Dharaa flushed.
‘Go on,’ Saahas gestured, ‘explain yourself.’
She began hesitantly, unsure of herself, but as she continued, her excitement grew, words gushing out of her. ‘I like Tota’s idea of using the night time. Under cover of darkness, we can send two branches of our force to the east and the south gates, keeping one for the north. And if we can attack simultaneously, hit Aham at all three points at the same time, our chances for an even fight would be good.’ She paused, aware that she had everyone’s attention. Every gaze was fixed on her, each ear bent towards her, listening intently.
‘Actually,’ she added, speaking every word with great deliberation, ‘we would stand a good chance of overwhelming Aham.’
A knowing smile spread across Tota’s face. ‘Yes, because Aham will be forced to split up its huge army. Sire,’ he turned towards Saahas, ‘this is a good idea. It could work.’
‘It is an excellent idea,’ came the quick rejoinder. ‘The hard blow that will bring Aham to its knees. Our contingents need time to reach the gates and here, Amsha’s flute will come to our aid.’ Tapping the map with the stick, Saahas continued, ‘In ten days we’ll reach Aham’s northern border. Before that, you and Dharaa plan out every small detail.’ Scratching a straight line through the north gate into the heart of the kingdom, he murmured, ‘The way to Aum lies through Aham.’
They stared at him. ‘The way to Aum lies through Aham. The way—’
Saahas grinned, ‘Leave that to me. You figure out the rest.’
Dharaa snapped her fingers, her face lighting up. ‘I’ve got it, sire! We’ll attack Aham, not just from the outside but also from within.’
40
Standing atop a tall hill with the sun in her face, a thin woman squinted into the distance, her tangled, grey hair billowing around her like an undulating cloud.
‘Who is that?’ a soldier on the battlement narrowed his eyes, pointing her out to his partner, ‘and how the devil did she get up there?’
‘What is that on her head? Is it a crown?’ They stared at her, incredulous. The woman screamed unintelligible words and they burst into raucous laughter, mimicking her. ‘There’s a crazy woman up there,’ they shouted to their lolling mates below, ‘bring some stones with you.’
‘Some fun at last to pass a dull day,’ remarked one soldier, taking aim. The stone whistled past the woman and she shrank, putting out an arm in defence, holding on to the untidy headband of twigs with one hand. She screamed again and this time her words clearly floated to the soldiers on the battlement, words that made them freeze, ‘He is coming. Saahas is coming. He will have his revenge if you don’t kill him. Will you kill him?’ She stared at them, her wide-set, sunken eyes curious.
The soldiers looked unkempt, bedraggled and their alarmed faces seemed to amuse her. Pointing at them, she started to giggle, her bony frame shaking uncontrollably.
‘The lunatic is trying to scare us. How dare she?’ Outraged, they pelted her with stones.
‘Stop,’ she moaned faintly, streaks of blood staining her rags. ‘I am your queen, Hussuri.’
‘Want to lay a bet I hit her in the face?’ A guard flipped a heavy, jagged rock in one hand glancing at his mates meaningfully.
‘Go on. It’s my turn next.’
The rock flew and found its mark, glancing off her forehead with a dull, crunching thud. Hussuri tumbled off the hill, rivulets of blood running down her chin.
Sprawling heavily on the rough ground, she blubbered, her hands scrabbling to find her crown. It lay out of reach and she wept, her weary tears mixing with the blood, blinding her. ‘You are mine,’ she sobbed, ‘no one can take you from me. Come back to me, please.’ Howling in pain, she slowly dragged herself upright and staggered, tripping over a boulder, her hands fumbling and closing on the crown of twigs. Content at last, she curled up on her side, humming her poems to herself. A yellow sulphurous mist like a soft, linen sheet, wafted down from the sky and settled over her.
When Ashwath and Prem found her, her eyes were wide open and still, the strange fog gathering in their emptiness.
Ashwath gently pried her fingers off the crown. ‘It is all right, my darling. You don’t need it anymore.’ His voice broke and he buried his face in his arm, his shoulders racked with silent sobs.
Kneeling down beside her, Prem tore off his turban, wiping the thick layer of crusted blood from her cold cheek. ‘Perhaps you are with my father,’ he whispered. ‘Perhaps you could tell him he needn’t worry about me anymore.’
‘What is this? Where is this peculiar vapour blowing in from?’ The soldiers at the gate looked around in bewilderment.
‘I can barely see the road below.’
‘Have you noticed something?’ One of them sniffed the air curiously. ‘It has a smell, a familiar smell.’
‘I know what it is,’ exclaimed his mate, licking his dry lips, ‘it is the scent of rain.’
Allowing his horse to amble, Saahas watched the yellow haze creep ahead of him, an apparition with three long veils swirling and concealing the regiments moving swiftly towards Aham’s various gates. He had blown into Amsha’s flute a few days ago, the pure note so soft that he had strained to hear it. And when he had stopped playing, the pipe had instantly flown out of his hands, heading straight back to its rightful owner. He turned around. The serpentine row of infantry soldiers disappeared into the mist, the bare hills on either side squeezing it close.
‘Dharaa,’ he called out and a shadow detached itself from a group in the front, stepping forward, close to him. He looked into her face, searching it. The determined chin tilted up to meet his gaze, but the over-bright eyes and the tightly compressed mouth told their own tale. ‘Little sister,’ he began, the words gentle but the tone firm, ‘Riju will do well under Tota’s direction. He volunteered to fight from the east gate.’
She nodded jerkily, dashing a hand across
her eyes. ‘It is just, well, we have never been apart except for the one time when I was abducted.’
‘Don’t you see, Dharaa, Riju wishes to fight this battle, in his own way, for you? He wants to purge the ghost of the past, put it to rest. He has held on to the guilt too long.’
‘Guilt?’
‘The guilt of not doing enough to save you, help you.’
‘Oh, bhaiyya,’ her voice cracked, ‘my baby is gone and now, my husband too is separated from me. My family, my support has come apart, leaving me alone . . . scared.’ Covering her face with her hands, she wept. ‘I’m shaking. My knees are buckling under me. I don’t know what to do. I’m sorry, so very sorry.’
He let her cry and when he started to speak, his voice rang with a new energy, uplifting and strong, ‘Don’t feel ashamed of the confusions, the fears, the heartbreaks and losses, Dharaa. They are not to be shunned. Embrace them instead, for they are signs of a soul struggling to come into its own, to unfold into its true, glorious self.’
She lifted her head, her tear-streaked face perfectly still, her hands clasped as if in prayer.
‘Work we must, Dharaa, for we cannot escape it. But what kind of work? That which sets you, your soul free. Free to soar high above every fear, every restraint. And how is that made possible? Through unselfish work. When work has a higher goal, then all fears cease.’ He gave her a crooked smile, ‘And in an odd way that I can’t quite explain, you become the heir to strength, infinite strength. You come to the understanding that you are free. Then love expands to its truest form for it shines in freedom alone, making every duty sublimely sweet. You have many duties—mother, wife and soldier. Which one of these do you wish to fulfil now?’
‘Soldier,’ she answered without hesitation, her spine straightening. ‘It is the duty on which depends the well-being of all, not just my family. But if I don’t fulfil it, I will fail my child, fail Riju and myself.’
The Crown of Seven Stars Page 21