The Oath of The Vayuputras

by Amish

  Chandraketu laughed. ‘Be warned, great Prince, little Navya has never lost a bet.’

  Navya smiled at her mother. ‘He does not seem all that bad, maa. I guess not all Ayodhyan royals are bad...’

  Bhagirath laughed once again. ‘King Chandraketu, I think we should retire to your chambers before any more assaults are made upon my dignity.’

  A smiling Chandraketu nodded to his wife and then turned to Bhagirath. ‘Come with me, Prince Bhagirath.’

  ‘Baba...’ whispered Ganesh.

  Ganesh had just entered Shiva’s chambers in the central ship of the joint Vasudev-Naga convoy.

  Shiva looked up as he put the palm-leaf book aside. ‘What is it, my son?’

  A nervous Ganesh whispered, ‘I need to speak with you.’

  Shiva pointed to the chair next to him as he lifted his feet off the table.

  Ganesh took a deep breath. ‘Baba, there may be some complications with Magadh.’

  Shiva smiled. ‘I was wondering when you were going to bring that up.’

  Ganesh frowned. ‘You knew?’

  ‘I know Ugrasen was killed by a Naga. I understand that complicates things.’

  Ganesh kept silent.

  ‘Well? Do you know who killed him? If it was a criminal act then we should support Surapadman. Not only would justice be served but it would also help pull Magadh to our side.’

  Ganesh didn’t say anything.

  Shiva frowned. ‘Ganesh?’

  ‘It was me,’ confessed Ganesh.

  Shiva’s eyes widened. ‘Well... this certainly complicates things...’

  Ganesh stayed mute.

  ‘Did you have a good reason?’

  ‘Yes I did, baba.’

  ‘What was it?’

  ‘The Chandravanshi nobility has always patronised the tradition of bull racing. In the quest for the lightest riders, the sport has degenerated to the extent that innocent young boys are being kidnapped and forced to ride the charging bulls. This cruel sport has left innumerable children maimed and some have even died painful deaths.’

  Shiva looked at Ganesh in horror. ‘What kind of barbaric men would do that to children?’

  ‘Men like Ugrasen. I found him trying to kidnap a young boy. The boy’s mother was refusing to let him go, so Ugrasen and his men were on the verge of killing her. I had no choice...’

  Shiva recalled something that Kali had mentioned. ‘Is that the time when you were seriously injured?’

  ‘Yes, baba.’

  Shiva breathed deeply. Ganesh had once again shown tremendous character, fighting injustice even at risk to his own life. Shiva was proud of his son. ‘You did the right thing.’

  ‘I’m sorry if I have complicated the issue.’

  Shiva smiled and shook his head.

  ‘What happened, baba?’

  ‘The ways of the world are really strange,’ said Shiva. ‘You protected an innocent child and his mother from an immoral prince. The Magadhans though, did not hesitate to spread a lie that Ugrasen died defending Magadh from a Naga terrorist attack. And people chose to believe that lie.’

  Ganesh shrugged his shoulders. ‘The Nagas have always been treated this way. The lies never stop.’

  Shiva looked up at the ceiling of his cabin.

  ‘What do we do now?’ asked Ganesh.

  ‘Nothing different. We’ll stick to the plan. Let us hope that Surapadman is ambitious enough to realise where the interests of Magadh lie.’

  Ganesh nodded.

  ‘And you stay in Kashi,’ continued Shiva. ‘Don’t come with us to Magadh.’

  ‘Yes, baba.’

  Fists clenched, Chandraketu tried hard to suppress the anger welling up within him. Bhagirath had just told him about the Somras waste being responsible for the plague that had been devastating Branga for generations.

  ‘By all the fury of Lord Rudra,’ growled Chandraketu, ‘my people have been dying for decades, our children have suffered from horrific diseases and our aged have endured agonising pain, all so that privileged Meluhans can live for two hundred years!’

  Bhagirath stayed silent, allowing Chandraketu to vent his righteous anger.

  ‘What does the Lord Neelkanth have to say? When do we attack?’

  ‘I will send word to you, Your Highness,’ said Bhagirath. ‘But it will be soon, perhaps in a few months. You must mobilise your army and be ready.’

  ‘We will not only mobilise our army, but every single Branga who can fight. This is not just a war for us. This is vengeance.’

  ‘My sailors are unloading some gifts from the Nagas and from Parshuram at the Brangaridai docks. As promised by the Neelkanth, all the materials required to make the Naga medicine are being delivered to you. A Naga scientist is also going to stay here and teach you how to make the medicine yourselves. These materials, combined with the herbs you already have in your kingdom, should keep you supplied with the Naga medicine for three years.’

  Chandraketu smiled slightly. ‘The Lord Neelkanth has honoured his word. He is a worthy successor to Lord Rudra.’

  ‘That he is.’

  ‘But I don’t think we will need this much medicine. The combined might of Ayodhya and Branga will ensure the defeat of Meluha well within three years. We will stop the manufacturing of the Somras and destroy their waste facility in the Himalayas. Once the waste stops poisoning the Brahmaputra, there will be no plague and no further need for any medicine.’

  Bhagirath narrowed his eyes, hesitating.

  ‘What is it, Prince Bhagirath?’

  ‘Your Highness, Ayodhya is probably not going to be with us in this war.’

  ‘What? Are you saying Ayodhya may side with Meluha?’

  ‘Yes. In fact, they have already thrown in their lot with Meluha.’

  ‘Then why...’

  Bhagirath completed the question. ‘Why do I act against my own father and kingdom?’

  ‘Yes. Why do you?’

  ‘I am a follower of my Lord, the great Neelkanth. His path is true. And I will walk on it, even if it entails fighting my own kinsmen.’

  Chandraketu rose and bowed to Bhagirath. ‘It requires a special form of greatness to fight one’s own for the ideal of justice. As far as I am concerned, you are fighting for justice for the Brangas. I shall remember this gesture, Prince Bhagirath.’

  Bhagirath smiled, happy with the way the conversation had progressed. He had accomplished the task that Shiva had given him, but in such a manner as to win the personal allegiance of the fabulously wealthy King of Branga. This alliance would prove useful when he made his move for the throne of Ayodhya. Having heard of Chandraketu’s sentimental nature, Bhagirath thought it wise to seal the alliance in blood.

  He pulled out his knife, slit his palm and held it up to the king. ‘May my blood flow in your veins, my brother.’

  A moist-eyed Chandraketu immediately pulled out his own knife, slit his palm and held it against Bhagirath’s bloodied hand. ‘And may my blood flow in yours.’

  Sitting aft on the deck of the lead ship of the Vasudev-Naga fleet, Brahaspati, Nandi and Parshuram could make out the outlines of Ganesh and Kartik practising their swordsmanship in the vessel behind them. Farther back, Shiva sat with Sati on a higher deck.

  Brahaspati’s emotions were tinged with bitter regret. ‘My mission has gained a leader but I have lost a friend.’

  Nandi turned towards Brahaspati. ‘Of course not, Brahaspatiji, the Lord Neelkanth continues to love you.’

  Brahaspati raised his eyebrows and smiled. ‘Nandi, lying does not behove you.’

  Nandi laughed softly. ‘If it makes you feel better, I can tell you that Lord Shiva missed you dearly when he believed that you were dead. You were always on his mind.’

  ‘I wouldn’t have expected any less,’ said Brahaspati. ‘But I don’t think he understands why I did what I did.’

  ‘To be honest,’ said Nandi, ‘neither do I. It was important to fake your death, I concede. But you probably should have reve
aled the truth to Lord Shiva.’

  ‘I couldn’t have,’ said Brahaspati. ‘Shiva is the son-in-law of Emperor Daksha, my prime enemy. Had Daksha known that I was alive, he would have sent assassins after me. I wouldn’t have lived long enough to conduct the experiments I needed to. And I had no way of knowing whether Shiva would have enough faith in me to not reveal anything to Daksha.’

  Parshuram tried to console Brahaspati. ‘He has forgiven you. Trust me, he has.’

  ‘He may have forgiven me, but I don’t think he has understood me as yet,’ said Brahaspati. ‘I hope there comes a time when I will get my friend back.’

  ‘It will happen,’ said Parshuram. ‘Once the Somras is destroyed, we will all go with the Lord to Mount Kailash and live happily ever after.’

  Nandi smiled. ‘Mount Kailash is far less hospitable than you imagine, Parshuram. I should know for I have been there. It is no luxurious paradise.’

  ‘Any place would be paradise so long as we sit at the feet of Lord Shiva.’

  ‘Have you worn kajal in your eyes?’ asked a surprised Shiva.

  Reclining in an easy chair on the raised private deck, Shiva had been gazing fondly at his children as they sparred with each other, swords at the ready. Sati seated herself and leaned close against him, briefly lost in the moment.

  Shiva had rarely seen Sati use make-up. He believed her beauty was so ethereal that it did not need any embellishment.

  Sati looked up at Shiva with a shy smile. Her pronounced Suryavanshi personality had been subtly influenced by Chandravanshi women, particularly Anandmayi. She was discovering the pleasures of beauty, especially when experienced through the appreciative eyes of the man she loved. ‘Yes. I thought you hadn’t noticed.’

  The kohl accentuated Sati’s large almond-shaped eyes and her bashful smile made her dimples spring to life.

  Shiva was mesmerised, as always. ‘Wow... It looks nice...’

  Sati laughed softly as she edged up to Shiva’s face, and kissed him lightly.

  Ganesh and Kartik were engaged in a furious duel on the fore deck. As had become a tradition with them, they fought with real weapons instead of wooden swords. They believed that the risk of serious injury would focus their minds and improve their practice. They would halt just before a killer strike and demonstrate to the other that an opening had been found.

  Converting his smaller size to his advantage, Kartik pressed close to Ganesh, cramping him and making it difficult for his taller opponent to strike freely. Ganesh stepped back and swung his shield down in a seemingly defensive motion, but halted the movement inches from Kartik’s shoulder.

  ‘Kartik, my shield has a knife,’ said Ganesh, as he pressed a lever to release it. ‘This is a strike on my account. I’ve said this to you before: fighting with two swords is too aggressive. You should use a shield. You ended up leaving an opening for me.’

  Kartik smiled. ‘No, dada. The strike is mine. Look down.’

  Ganesh’s eyes fell on his chest as he felt a light touch of metal. Kartik was holding his left sword the other way round, with a small blade sticking out of the hilt end. He had managed to turn the sword around, release the knife and bring it in close, all the while giving the feint of an open right flank to Ganesh. Shiva’s elder son had assumed that Kartik had pulled his left sword out of combat.

  Ganesh stood with his eyes wide open, seriously impressed with his brother. ‘How in Lady Bhoomidevi’s name did you manage that?’

  Shiva, who had seen the entire manoeuvre from his upper deck, was equally impressed with Kartik. He pulled back from Sati and shouted out, ‘Bravo Kartik!’

  Sensing angry eyes boring into him, Shiva immediately turned towards Sati. She was glaring at her husband, holding her breath irritably, her lips still puckered.

  ‘I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry,’ said Shiva, trying to draw close and kiss Sati again.

  Sati pushed Shiva’s face away with mock irritation. ‘The moment’s passed...’

  ‘I’m so sorry. It’s just that what Kartik did was...’

  ‘Of course,’ whispered Sati, shaking her head and smiling.

  ‘It’ll not happen again...’

  ‘It better not...’

  ‘I’m sorry...’

  Sati shook her head and rested it on Shiva’s chest. Shiva pulled her close. ‘I love the kajal. I didn’t think it was possible for you to look even more beautiful.’

  Sati looked up at Shiva and rolled her eyes. She slapped him lightly on his chest. ‘Too little, too late.’

  Chapter 12

  Troubled Waters

  ‘How was it?’ asked Anandmayi.

  Bhagirath had sailed up the Padma and reached Parvateshwar’s vessel which was anchored at the point where the river broke away from the Branga River. The captain was preparing to raise anchor and start sailing onward. Parvateshwar, Anandmayi and Ayurvati had been waiting for Bhagirath at the aft deck, eager for the news from Branga.

  Bhagirath looked briefly at Parvateshwar and Ayurvati, before turning to Anandmayi. ‘What do you think?’

  ‘Did you tell him everything?’ asked Ayurvati.

  ‘That is exactly what the Lord Neelkanth had asked me to do,’ answered Bhagirath.

  Parvateshwar took a deep breath and walked away.

  Anandmayi looked at her husband before turning back. ‘So what did Branga say, Bhagirath?’

  ‘King Chandraketu is livid that his people have been suffering from a murderous plague so that the Meluhans can live extra-long lives.’

  ‘But I hope you told him that most Meluhans did not know this,’ said Ayurvati. ‘Had we known that the Somras was causing this evil in Branga, we would not have used it.’

  Bhagirath looked disbelievingly at Ayurvati and sarcastically remarked, ‘I did tell him that most Meluhans did not know about the devastation their addiction had caused. Strangely, it did not seem to lessen King Chandraketu’s anger.’

  Ayurvati remained silent.

  Anandmayi spoke irritably, ‘Can you stop being judgemental for a moment and just tell me what is going to happen in Branga now?’

  ‘For now King Chandraketu is going to concentrate on manufacturing the medicines that his people need,’ said Bhagirath. ‘But at the same time, he has already started mobilising for war. He will be ready and waiting in three months for the Lord Neelkanth’s orders.’

  Ayurvati’s eyes welled up with tears as she wistfully looked at Parvateshwar in the distance. She felt the anguish in his noble heart. For hers was just as heavy.

  ‘My Lord,’ said Siamantak, the Ayodhyan prime minister, as he entered Emperor Dilipa’s chambers, ‘I’ve just received word that Maharishi Bhrigu is on his way.’

  ‘Lord Bhrigu?’ asked a surprised Dilipa. ‘Here?’

  ‘The advance boat has just come in, Your Highness,’ said Siamantak. ‘Lord Bhrigu should be here by tomorrow.’

  ‘Why wasn’t I informed earlier?’

  ‘I did not know either, Your Highness.’

  ‘Meluha should not have done this. They should have informed us in advance before sending Lord Bhrigu here.’

  ‘What can I say about Meluha, My Lord? Typically disdainful.’

  A nervous Dilipa ran his hands across his face. ‘Is there any news from the shipyard? Are our ships close to completion?’

  Siamantak swallowed anxiously. ‘No, Your Highness. You’d asked me to pay attention to the pavement dweller issue and...’

  ‘I KNOW WHAT I’D ASKED YOU TO DO! JUST ANSWER MY QUESTION WITH A SIMPLE YES OR NO!’

  ‘I’m sorry, Your Highness. No, the ships are nowhere near completion.’

  ‘By when will the job be done?’

  ‘If we stop doing everything else then I guess we should be ready in another six to nine months.’

  Dilipa seemed to breathe easier. ‘That’s not so bad. Nothing’s going to happen in the next nine months.’

  ‘Yes, Your Highness.’

  Emperor Dilipa was with Maharishi Bhrigu at the Ay
odhya shipyard. The Meluhan brigadier, Prasanjit, stood at a distance.

  Declining the hospitality which awaited him on landing, Bhrigu had headed directly for the shipyard. A flustered Dilipa had perforce followed him, courtiers and all. He gestured for Siamantak and all his courtiers to maintain a distance. He knew that Bhrigu was angry and expected an earful.

  ‘Your Highness,’ said Bhrigu slowly, keeping his temper on a tight leash, ‘you had promised me that your ships would be ready.’

  ‘I know, My Lord,’ said Dilipa softly. ‘But honestly, a few months’ delay is not going to hurt us. It has been many months since our attack on Panchavati. There has been absolutely no news of the Neelkanth. I’m sure we have succeeded. We don’t really need to be nervous. I honestly think that the likelihood of a war is substantially reduced.’

  Bhrigu turned to Dilipa. ‘Your Highness, may I request that you leave the thinking to me?’

  Dilipa immediately fell silent.

  ‘Was it not your suggestion to commandeer your trade ships and refit them for war?’

  ‘Yes it was, My Lord,’ said Dilipa.

  ‘I had suggested that we are not likely to fight naval battles on the Ganga. I had told you that we will only need transport ships, for which your trade ships were good enough.’

  ‘Yes, you had, My Lord.’

  ‘Yet you had insisted that in the likelihood of there being river battles, it would be a good idea to have battleships.’

  ‘Yes, My Lord.’

  ‘And I agreed on one condition alone – that the battleships would be ready in six months. Correct?’

  ‘Yes, My Lord.’

  ‘It has been seven months now. You have stripped down the trade ships but have still not refitted them. So now, seven months later, not only do we not have any battleships, but we also don’t have any trade-transport ships.’

  ‘I know it looks very bad, My Lord,’ said Dilipa, wiping his brow with his fingers. ‘But the pavement-dwellers here had gone on a hunger strike.’

  A confused Bhrigu raised his hands in exasperation. ‘What does that have to do with the ships?’