by Amish
‘No,’ said Parvateshwar.
‘No?’ asked a surprised Dilipa.
‘No, Your Highness. I intend to send out a crack team of commandos in advance, to the Narmada. They will wait for the Naga ships to race upriver, till they have travelled a considerable distance away from the sea. Naval movements in a river are constricted, no matter how large the river. Their fleet will be sailing close to each other. Our commandos will have devil boats with firewood and flints ready for our enemies. Our task will be to take out the first as well as last line of ships simultaneously.’
‘Brilliant. They will lose their fleet, their soldiers will be adrift. Then our own fleet can charge in from the hidden lagoon and cut their soldiers down.’
‘No, Your Highness,’ said Parvateshwar, thinking he wouldn’t have needed to explain all this to someone with the strategic brilliance of Shiva. ‘Our fleet is not going to engage in battle at all. It’s only a decoy. Our main attack will be carried out by the commandos. If the first and last line of the enemy ships are set on fire, there’s a pretty good chance that all the ships in between too will eventually catch fire.’
‘But won’t that take too long?’ asked Bhrigu. ‘Many of their soldiers would be able to abandon ship and escape onto land.’
‘True,’ said Parvateshwar. ‘But they will be stranded far from their base with no ships. I had learnt at Panchavati that there is no road between Maika-Lothal and the Narmada. It will take them at least six months to march back to Lothal through those dense impenetrable forests. I’m hoping that on seeing the size of our decoy fleet, Sati will commit at least one hundred thousand men to attack us. And with those hundred thousand enemy soldiers stuck in the jungles of the Narmada, our army would become vastly superior numerically; a ratio of almost four to one. We could then attack and probably take Lothal.’
Dilipa still hadn’t understood the entire plan. ‘But many of our own soldiers will also be in the decoy fleet, right? So we’ll have to wait for them to come back to Karachapa and then...’
‘I’m not planning on using our decoy fleet to engage in battle,’ said Parvateshwar. ‘So we’re not going to load them up with soldiers. We’ll only keep a skeletal staff, enough to set sail. We will not commit more than five thousand men. Imagine what we can achieve. Only five thousand of our men, including the commandos, will leave Karachapa but we would have removed nearly one hundred thousand of the enemy men, leaving them stranded in the jungles around the Narmada, at least six months away from Lothal. And not a single arrow would have been fired. We can then go ahead and easily march in to capture Lothal.’
‘Brilliant!’ said Bhrigu. ‘We will move towards Lothal as soon as our ships leave for the Narmada.’
‘No, My Lord,’ said Parvateshwar. ‘I’m sure Sati has scouts lurking in and around Karachapa. If they see four hundred thousand of our troops marching out of the city, they will know that our ships are thinly manned and will therefore understand our ruse. Our army will have to remain hidden within the walls of Karachapa to convince them that our attack on Panchavati is genuine.’
The customs officer at Karachapa frowned at the merchant ship manifest. ‘Cotton from Egypt? Why would any Meluhan want cotton from Egypt? They are no match for our own cotton.’
The customs procedure in Meluha was based on a system of trust. Ship manifests would be accepted at face value and the relevant duty applied. It was also accepted that, on random occasions, a customs officer could cross-check the ship load if he so desired. This was possibly one of those random occasions.
The officer turned to his assistant. ‘Go down to the ship hold and check.’
The ship captain looked nervously to his right, at the closed door of the deck cabin, and turned back to the customs officer. ‘What is the need for that, Sir? Do you think that I would lie about this? You know that the amount of cotton I have declared matches the maximum carrying capacity of this ship. There is no way you can charge me a higher custom duty. Your search will serve no purpose.’
The Meluhan customs officer looked towards the cabin that the captain had surreptitiously glanced at. The door suddenly swung open and a tall, well-built man stepped out and stretched his arms as he lazily yawned. ‘What’s the delay, Captain?’
The customs officer held his breath as he recognised the man. He instantly executed a smart Meluhan military salute. ‘Brigadier Vidyunmali, I didn’t know you were on this ship.’
‘Now you know,’ said Vidyunmali, yawning once more.
‘I’m sorry, My Lord,’ said the customs officer, as he immediately handed the manifest back to the captain and ordered his assistant to issue the receipt for the duty payment.
The paperwork was done in no time.
The customs officer started to leave, but then turned back and hesitatingly asked Vidyunmali, ‘My Lord, you are one of our greatest warriors. Why isn’t our army deploying you at the battlefront?’
Vidyunmali shook his head with a wry grin. ‘I’m not a warrior now, officer. I’m a bodyguard. And also, as it now appears, a transporter of royal fashions.’
The customs officer smiled politely, and then hurried off the ship.
‘Why the delay?’ asked the Egyptian.
Vidyunmali had just entered the hold below the lowermost deck, deep in the ship’s belly. The only porthole, high in one corner, had been shut tight and it was unnaturally dark. As his eyes adjusted, he was able to see the countenance of about three hundred assassins sitting with cat-like stillness in a huddle.
‘Nothing important, Lord Swuth,’ said Vidyunmali to the Egyptian. ‘A stupid customs officer got it in his head to check the ship’s hold. It’s been taken care of. We’re sailing past Karachapa now. We will be in the heart of Meluha soon. There’s no turning back.’
Swuth nodded silently.
‘My Lord,’ said the captain, as he entered quietly with a shielded torch.
Vidyunmali took the torch from the captain, who was followed by two men carrying large jute bags. They left the bags next to Vidyunmali.
‘Wait outside,’ said Vidyunmali.
The captain and his men obeyed. Vidyunmali turned towards the Egyptian.
Swuth was the chief of the shadowy group of Egyptian assassins that Vidyunmali was escorting back to Devagiri. The sweaty heat of the closed ship hold had made Swuth and his assassins strip down to their loincloths. Vidyunmali could see the several battle scars that lined Swuth’s body in the dim light of the flaming torch. But it was the numerous tattoos on him that drew his attention. The Meluhan brigadier was familiar with one of them: a black fireball on the bridge of his nose, with rays streaming out in all directions. It was usually the last thing that his hapless victims saw before being butchered. The fireball represented the God that Swuth and his assassins believed in: Aten, the Sun God.
‘I thought that Ra was the Sun God for the Egyptians,’ said Vidyunmali.
Swuth shook his head. ‘Most people call him Ra. But they’re wrong. Aten is the correct name. And this symbol,’ said Swuth, pointing to the fireball on his nose, ‘is his mark.’
‘And the jackal tattoo on your arm?’ asked Vidyunmali.
‘It’s not a jackal. It’s an animal that looks like a jackal. We call it Sha. This is the mark of the God I am named after.’
Vidyunmali was about to move on to the other tattoos, but Swuth raised his hand.
‘I have too many tattoos on my body and too little interest in small talk,’ said Swuth. ‘You’re paying me good money, Brigadier. So I will do your job. You don’t need to build a relationship with me to motivate me. Let’s talk about what you really want.’
Vidyunmali smiled. It was always a pleasure to work with professionals. They focused all their attention on the work at hand. The mission that Emperor Daksha had tasked him with was difficult. Any brute could kill, but to kill with so many conditions attached, required professionals. It needed artists who were dedicated to their dark art.
‘My apologies,’ said Vidyunmali. ‘I�
��ll get down to it right away.’
‘That would be good,’ said Swuth, sarcastically.
‘We don’t want anybody recognising you.’
Swuth narrowed his eyes, as though he’d just been insulted. ‘Nobody ever sees us killing, Brigadier Vidyunmali. More often than not, even our victims don’t see us while they’re being killed.’
Vidyunmali shook his head. ‘But I want you to be seen, only not recognised.’
Swuth frowned.
Vidyunmali walked over to one of the jute bags, opened it and pulled out a large black cloak and a mask. ‘I need all of you to wear this. And I want you to be seen as you kill.’
Swuth picked up the cloak and recognised it instantly. It was the garment that the Nagas wore whenever they travelled abroad. He stared at the mask. He was aware that these were worn during Holi celebrations.
Swuth looked at Vidyunmali, his eyes two narrow slits. ‘You want people to think the Nagas did it?’
Vidyunmali nodded.
‘These cloaks will constrain our movements,’ said Swuth. ‘And the masks will restrict our vision. We’re not trained with these accoutrements.’
‘Are you telling me that the warriors of Aten can’t do this?’
Swuth took a deep breath. ‘Please leave.’
Vidyunmali stared at Swuth, stunned by his insolence.
‘Leave,’ clarified Swuth, ‘so that we can wear these cloaks and practice.’
Vidyunmali smiled and rose.
‘Brigadier,’ said Swuth. ‘Please leave the torch here.’
‘Of course,’ said Vidyunmali, fixing the torch on its clutch before walking out of the ship hold.
Chapter 40
Ambush on the Narmada
‘They aren’t coming here?’ exclaimed a surprised Sati.
Together with Kali, Ganesh and Kartik, she had been enjoying a family moment accompanied by rounds of sweet saffron milk. They were soon joined by Bhagirath, Chandraketu, Maatali, Brahaspati and Chenardhwaj with some fresh news. The information received earlier from the Vasudevs had suggested that a fleet of nearly fifty ships had sailed out of Karachapa a few weeks back. They had expected them to head for Lothal. But the latest news was that the ships had turned south.
‘It looks like they’re heading towards the Narmada,’ said the Vasudev pandit who had just walked in with the information.
‘That can’t be!’ A panic-stricken Kali looked at Ganesh.
Kali had not agreed with Shiva’s tactic of misleading the Meluhans by pretending to go to the Narmada and from there, sailing on to Pariha. She was afraid that this would give the Meluhans a clue as to the possible route to Panchavati. Shiva had dismissed her concerns, saying that Bhrigu knew that the river near Panchavati flowed from west to east, whereas the Narmada flowed east to west; clearly Panchavati was not on the Narmada itself. The Meluhans would know that, even if they sailed up the Narmada, they would have to pass the dense Dandak forests to be able to reach Panchavati. And doing so was fraught with danger without a Naga guide.
Therefore, the news of the Meluhan navy sailing towards the Narmada left Kali with only one logical conclusion: they had discovered the route to Panchavati.
‘How would they know the Narmada path to Panchavati?’ asked a bewildered Ganesh.
Kali turned on Sati. ‘Your husband did not listen to me and stupidly insisted on sailing towards the Narmada.’
‘Kali, the Meluhans are in the know of all our goings and comings on the Narmada,’ said Sati calmly. ‘It is no secret. But they would have no idea how to travel from the Narmada to Panchavati. Shiva has not given anything away.’
‘Bullshit!’ shouted Kali. ‘And it’s not just Shiva’s fault, it’s yours as well. I had told you to kill that traitor, didi. You and your misplaced sense of honour will lead to the destruction of my people!’
‘Mausi,’ said Ganesh to Kali, immediately springing to his mother’s defence. ‘I don’t think we should blame maa for this. It is entirely possible that it’s not General Parvateshwar but Lord Bhrigu who has discovered the Narmada route. After all, he did know the Godavari route, right?’
‘Of course, Ganesh,’ said Kali sarcastically. ‘It’s not General Parvateshwar. And it obviously cannot be your beloved mother’s fault, either. Why would the most devoted son in the history of mankind think that his mother could make a mistake?’
‘Kali...’ whispered Sati.
Kali continued her rant. ‘Have you forgotten that you are a Naga? That you are the Lord of the People, sworn to protect your tribe to the last drop of your blood?’
Bhagirath decided to step in before things got out of hand. ‘Queen Kali, there is no point in going on about how the Meluhans discovered the Narmada route. What we should be discussing is what are we going to do next? How do we save Panchavati?’
Kali turned to Bhagirath and snapped, ‘We don’t need to be maharishis to know what needs to be done. Fifty ships will set sail tomorrow with all the Naga warriors on it. The Meluhans will regret the day they decided to attack my people!’
Kali, Ganesh and Kartik had assembled at Lothal’s circular port along with a hundred thousand men, comprising all the Nagas and many Branga warriors, clambering aboard their ships rapidly. They knew that time was at a premium.
Sati had come to the port to see her family off. She was going to stay in Lothal. She suspected the Meluhans might mount a siege on their city at the same time, to try and take advantage of her divided army.
‘Kali...’ approached Sati softly.
Kali gave her a withering look and then turned her back on her sister, screaming instructions to her soldiers. ‘Board quickly! Hurry up!’
Ganesh and Kartik stepped forward, bent to touch her feet and take their mother’s blessings.
‘We’ll be back soon, maa,’ said Ganesh, smiling awkwardly.
Sati nodded. ‘I’ll be waiting.’
‘Do you have any instructions for us, maa?’ asked Kartik.
Sati looked at her sister, who still had her back turned stiffly towards her. ‘Take care of your mausi.’
Kali heard what Sati said, but refused to respond.
Sati stepped up and touched Kali on her shoulder. ‘I’m sorry about General Parvateshwar. I only did what I thought was right.’
Kali stiffened her shoulders. ‘Didi, one who clings to moral arrogance even at the cost of the lives of others, is not necessarily the most moral person.’
Sati remained quiet, staring sadly at Kali’s back. She could see Kali’s two extra arms on top of her shoulders quivering, a sure sign that the Naga queen was deeply agitated.
Kali turned and glared at her sister. ‘My people will not suffer for your addiction to moral glory, didi.’
Saying this, Kali stormed off, verbally lashing out at her soldiers to board the ships quickly.
Kanakhala couldn’t believe what she was hearing. A real shot at peace!
‘This is the best news I have heard in a long time, Your Highness,’ said Kanakhala.
Daksha smiled genially. ‘I hope you understand this has to be kept secret. There are many who do not want peace. They think that the only way to end this is an all-out war.’
Kanakhala looked at Vidyunmali, standing next to Daksha. She had always assumed he was a warmonger. She was surprised to see him agreeing with the Emperor.
KanakhalaPerhaps, thought, the Emperor is referring to Lord Bhrigu as the one who doesn’t want peace with the Neelkanth.
‘We’ve seen the loss of life and devastation caused by the minor battle that was staged outside Devagiri,’ said Daksha. ‘It was only Sati’s wisdom that stopped it from descending into a massacre that would have hurt both Meluha and the Lord Neelkanth.’
Maybe it’s his love for Sati that is forcing the Emperor’s hand. He would never allow any harm to come to his daughter. Whatever the reason, I will support him in his peace initiative.
‘What are you thinking, Kanakhala?’
‘Nothing important, My Lord. I’
m just happy that you are willing to discuss peace.’
‘You have your work cut out,’ said Daksha. ‘An entire peace conference has to be organised at short notice. We will name it, in keeping with tradition, after our Prime Minister: the yagna of Kanakhala.’
An embarrassed Kanakhala smiled. ‘You’re most kind, My Lord. But the name doesn’t matter. What matters is peace.’
‘Yes, peace is paramount. That is why you must take my instruction of secrecy seriously. Under no circumstances should the news of the peace conference reach Karachapa.’
Karachapa was where Lord Bhrigu had stationed himself, along with King Dilipa of Ayodhya and General Parvateshwar.
‘Yes, My Lord,’ said Kanakhala.
A happy Kanakhala rushed to her office to get down to immediate work.
Daksha waited for the door of his private office to shut before turning to Vidyunmali. ‘I hope Swuth and his people will not fail me.’
‘They will not, My Lord,’ said Vidyunmali. ‘Have faith in me. This will be the end of that barbarian from Tibet. Everyone will blame the Nagas. They are perceived as bloodthirsty, irrational killers in any case. No reasonable citizen here has been able to swallow that fraud Neelkanth’s championing of the Nagas; just like they didn’t accept the freeing of the Vikarmas, regardless of the greatness of Drapaku. The people will readily believe that the Nagas killed him.’
‘And my daughter will return to me,’ said Daksha. ‘She’ll have no choice. We will be a family again.’
Delusions create the most compelling of beliefs.
Shiva, Gopal and Tara stood on the foredeck of their merchant ship. The Parihans had helped in loading their precious merchandise onto the vessel. With everyone having said their goodbyes, the Neelkanth had just ordered his ship to set sail on the Jam Sea.
‘Scheherazade,’ said Gopal, ‘how long...’
‘Tara, please,’ she interrupted the Chief Vasudev.
‘Sorry?’
‘My name is Tara now, great Vasudev,’ said Tara. ‘Scheherazade was left behind in Pariha.’