Panchali shook her head. ‘No. But you know he will. Dharma, please… I can’t take this anymore!’
‘Ah, my dear! If only that were excuse enough! This sad destiny is ours to suffer! We can’t afford to do anything, Panchali. Anything that is out of the ordinary, even to the least extent, must be avoided. If Syoddhan finds us… I’m sure you understand.’
‘What do you mean?’ Her voice held a trace of sharpness.
Dharma winced at her tone. Nevertheless, he patiently explained, ‘Today, we’re little more than commoners. If fate has it that we live as the servile, we can’t fight it.’
‘And? Doesn’t it once strike you that the commoners, this servile class that you’ve been relegated to, deserve better? Aren’t some things just wrong, whether they are suffered by peasant or king? What sort of Emperor…’
‘Don’t you dare speak to me in such a tone, Panchali. Unlike you, my principles are immutable. Divine Order is paramount. I don’t spit on the system the moment it ceases to go in my favour. I remain faithful to it – whether as slave or as king! Where was all your anger and concern when you ruled these lands as the Empress?’
‘True,’ Panchali admitted. ‘I deserve it. Everything we took for granted, everything we assumed was permanent, has been taken from us. You, an emperor, must serve as the chief’s fool, advise him on his pursuit of duty and righteousness. Partha has been rendered impotent, Bhim’s might is now a source of entertainment for others, and Nakul and Sadev must tend to herds that are not theirs. Just like commoners. By Rudra, we all deserve it. You’re right, I’m no longer an empress and…’
‘No, you are not an empress,’ Dharma said through gritted teeth, desperately trying to keep his temper. ‘You once were, but you are not one today. This is the life destined for you, and you had best make your peace with it as we all have.’
‘And if the General…?’
‘Then I suggest you satisfy his needs, as would every other handmaiden in this palace.’
Panchali stared at him for a while, and then spun on her heel and walked away.
Furious as she was with Dharma, Panchali did not see where she was going until it was too late. The impact made her lose her balance, but she felt an arm go immediately around her in support. She tried to push it away, but in vain. The General was a big, strong man. With a cry of protest, she tried to twist out of his grip. He only held on tighter. Panchali squirmed as he pushed her against the wall and held her there with his body. He was genuinely confused by her reluctance. ‘What now, Malini? We’re alone. Why do you still pretend to resist me? Stop being such a temptress.’
‘Please…’ Panchali pleaded as the General placed his hand on the bare skin of her waist. ‘Please listen to me.’
He showed no signs of letting her go. ‘Ah, my sweet love,’ he cajoled. ‘A fine woman like you could have her heart’s fill of riches and jewels, I know. But I can offer you much more… I can offer you that which a woman’s heart truly desires.’ Panchali turned her face away, even as the General placed his lips to her ear and whispered, ‘I can please you in ways that you’ve never imagined, my dear.’
‘You’ll die for ever speaking those words to me!’ Panchali snapped, her rage filling her with strength. She pushed hard at the man.
Keechak yielded and took a step back. He said, ‘Really, Malini, you’re the finest of them all. You could be a man for the iron will you nurse in your shapely body. I suppose I was right. You’re not just an ordinary handmaiden. You’re a special woman, a woman fit to be queen… My queen. Marry me, Malini. Let us do this the honourable way.’
Panchali closed her eyes, squeezing them tight against the tears that threatened. A mix of fear, fatigue, and the sheer incongruity of a situation where a man she did not care for seemed to value her sentiments more than the man she was married to, overcame her. She could hear Dharma’s words in her head. Just a commoner. It was not the appellation that had hurt, but the insinuation that she meant nothing and was worth nothing. The feeling turned into words, and the vague hope that it may well be a way out of her predicament.
‘Please, General,’ she said, ‘I’m hardly worthy of a man of your stature. I’m nobody, a servant, a handmaiden. Please just let me be…’
Keechak frowned. ‘Since when is a handmaiden nobody, Malini?’
‘General…’
‘Where are you from?’
‘I…’
‘Where are you from? You’re not from Matsya. You came in months ago seeking shelter and employment, that I know. Which part of Aryavarta do you come from?’
‘I…the Central lands,’ Panchali said.
‘That explains it. Well, Malini. These are not the Central lands. Come with me.’
‘But General…’
‘Yes, yes! I know, I know. Come!’ Keechak took Panchali’s wrist in a firm grip and began leading the way.
She went along silently, her suspicions growing by the moment as he strode across the palace grounds, to a windowless structure at the far end. She had often wondered what purpose the building served but no one had been able to tell her. No one, not even the groundskeeper, was allowed near it. Rumour had it that this was the General’s private dungeon, where he fulfilled his depraved needs for pleasure.
The guards on duty at the large metal doorway saluted their General, but failed to hide their surprise on seeing Panchali in tow. She was equally astonished by their reaction. If this isn’t where he takes his women…then? She had no time to think further on it, for as she stepped through the door it was pulled shut behind them. It was pitch dark inside the building, except for a brazier on the far wall. Without warning, the General pulled Panchali back and into his arms. She began to flail about, but, as her eyes adjusted to the light, she realized that she had been standing precariously on the edge of a narrow flight of stairs.
‘Careful.’
Panchali nodded and, extricating herself from his grip, began climbing down. The stairs levelled out into a small corridor, which led to a long, cavernous room. Unlike the one above, this room was well lit, not just with braziers, but with the light of three huge furnaces. Men working at the furnaces saluted the General and quickly returned to their tasks. Panchali was bewildered. Never had she imagined that a forge of such huge proportions remained in existence in Aryavarta, for the only one she had seen, an old forge hidden in the forests of Panchala, was just a fifth part of this one. Like the other, however, it was made of cold, dark stone, with the main chamber set within the earth. Despite the fires, the air felt cool, and a light breeze was blowing through the cavern. She wondered how it was that the forge was cooled in the absence of running water or an obvious air vent, but knew better than to ask. She turned to the General. ‘Why have you brought me here?’
‘To tell you that you are wrong. To show you that there is another way of thinking, a way that allows you and me to be together if we wish it, for no reason other than we wish it.’
‘I don’t understand.’
The General said, ‘Malini, what you believe is what most of Aryavarta believes: that birth and gender and position are what decide our lives. It is the philosophy that the Firstborn have instilled deep into the core of Aryavarta, and they have done so at a terrible price. You see, they believed that destiny and duty sanctified all things. To them, inequality was not necessarily injustice. Things were determined by a greater law, a Divine Order, and as long as that balance was kept, all other things, including hierarchy, inequality and the unfettered power of those who ruled, were justified. But here you see a man who would be considered a suta as commander of this nation’s forces. His sister, as much a suta as he is, is queen. How? Because here, in Matsya, lived those who believed otherwise…’
‘The Firewrights,’ Panchali said before she could stop herself.
Keechak looked pleased. ‘Yes,’ he said, ‘the Firewrights. The Wrights liked to pretend that they believed in equality. For what it’s worth, they once did. Their belief was that all other inequali
ties – be they of social standing, wealth, servitude – came from a fundamental inequality in power. And their way of achieving equality was through knowledge.’
‘Because knowledge would result in the dispersion of power from the few to the many. So, over time, inequalities would vanish.’
‘Precisely. Yet you wonder why I admire you! You really are a clever woman, Malini. And so it was that till the Great Scourge began, Matsya was by far the most powerful kingdom in all Aryavarta. Once, our kings were emperors of the entire realm. Now we hardly dare to call them kings.’
Panchali did not look convinced. She said, ‘But do you see the problem there? Knowledge itself becomes a cause of inequality, a source of power. Matsya rose by the might of the Firewrights. Matsya fell, condemned by its own ascent.’
Keechak’s face clouded with anger. With visible effort, he willed his expression into neutrality and said, ‘There’s a saying I’ve heard: “Every poison is defined by its antidote.” It is something my greatest enemy used to say.’
Panchali felt her heart begin to race, but she willed herself to reveal no emotion. Oblivious, the General continued, ‘He believed that inequality was inevitable, that its existence is immutable. The only thing that can change is its form. He claimed that the search for equality was what defined humanity… I would have listened more closely to him had he not betrayed me and my people. But no. No one ever came to our aid, Malini. They used us – Firewright, Firstborn… all of them used us and cast us aside. They took our life-giving river, the Saraswati, and hid her underground. And then cast us out of their lives and minds forever, exiling us in our own home. But in their folly, their blind selfishness, our transgressors did not see what a terrible decision that was. Take a look at this.’
Keechak held out a sword, impeccably crafted, but heavy and made of dark iron. As she took it from him, it reminded Panchali of Naga weapons, except that, she realized, this sword was not beaten and forged, but rather cast from a mould and polished to a shine and keenness that Naga iron could not rival. It was lighter too, far lighter, and very well balanced. Panchali resisted the instinct to point the sword and look down its blade for a precise assessment.
The General said, confirming her suspicions, ‘Of all the things that the Firewrights created, nothing was more important or powerful than what was called Wright-metal. It was easy to pour and malleable beyond imagination. But it was also strong and supple and light. And so, the Wrights began casting weapons out of these stone moulds…’ he gestured with his hands.
‘So you use iron in their old moulds? Is that it?’
‘Mih! If you do that, you’ll only get the heavy, ugly things that the Nagas use.’
‘Then how…?’
‘We found a way to temper iron.’
‘You what?’
‘Don’t be so surprised, my dear. What other choice did we have? Cut off from everyone and everything, isolated from the rest of the world, we had to make do with the materials we found here, within our own borders. There was little to farm and much to mine, and we had time, Malini. We had all the time in the world. While the rest of Aryavarta has been playing dice, we have been working hard to find a way to temper iron with other metals to make it lighter, more malleable. We’ve designed new moulds to suit our needs, and those needs are far more important than swords and arrows.’
His voice hoarse with long-contained rage, Keechak said, ‘The river dried up, and there was no rain. Matsya had been cursed by the gods. Many lost their lives, before we managed to build a new home for ourselves here again. And we have, by our sweat and blood, and with this metal! Not for war, but for survival.’
Panchali could not contain herself. ‘What…what do you mean?’
‘We have found newer uses for this tempered metal. We use it for just about everything. It’s all we have. Haven’t you ever wondered how it is that you can bring me a full cauldron of hot water using those slender arms of yours? Or did you think yourself so strong? No, Malini,’ he laughed. ‘It is this metal – Kali. Iron but not quite, though one would never be able tell just by looking. And these workmen of mine can make more than pots and pans. In case you haven’t noticed, we hardly have any lumber here in the desert. What do you think holds up our walls and roofs? We pack the mud and stone around bars made of this metal. Even an elephant couldn’t break though the palace’s walls.’
‘But…’ She stopped herself from asking the question, but the Keechak understood.
‘Why then do we live as outcasts, suffer in this forsaken desert, while the rest of Aryavarta spits on us and calls us uncivilized brutes? We wait, we prepare, Malini. Our solitude has allowed us to deflect attention while we have built arsenals greater than the might of many kingdoms combined. Where the Wrights made one sword in months, I can now cast them in hundreds, in less than a week. No army in Aryavarta has the weapons that mine does. Those who betrayed us should not have made the mistake of leaving us alone and alive.’
Despite the cold feeling in the pit of her stomach, Panchali brought herself to look the General in the eye. ‘I’m sorry for your suffering and that of your people,’ she told him. ‘And I see that you truly are a brave man and an honourable one. But that doesn’t change my position – please understand…’
‘Shh. Come here, Malini.’ The General led her to the end of the chamber, where a small door was set into one corner. Panchali noticed it for the first time. Despite its unimpressive size, the door was made of heavy, black iron, and protected with chains and locks of the same metals.
Keechak removed a small bunch of keys from a chain around his neck and inserted them into the many locks in a specific sequence. The door gave way with a groan. He stepped in, bending down to accommodate his bulk into the tiny space, and gestured for Panchali to follow. The room was commensurately small, no more than a large cupboard. It had no light of its own, but the glow from the furnaces outside was enough to see by. On the walls were stacked bottles and receptacles of many shapes and sizes. Many were empty, others little more than broken shards.
‘These are not of our making. They are things left behind by the Firewrights – their poisons and hallucinogens…’ the General said. He walked over to a high shelf, where a few unbroken, dusty bottles were innocently clustered together. These, Panchali noticed, were not empty.
The General picked up two identical vials. ‘You give me hope. Not just for me, but for all Aryavarta. If only you would see beyond these webs that Firstborn and Firewright have woven around us… I trust you, Malini. I want you to know what you mean to me. And that is why I share with you this, my biggest secret. Do you have any idea what this is? No, of course not…’ Laughing loudly, he went on to explain.
All Panchali could do was listen, her eyes widening further with every word.
12
BHIM HELD HIS BREATH AND SHRUNK BACK INTO THE SHADOW of a pillar as he heard the sound of footsteps punctuated by the melody of anklets. He relaxed as the figure that emerged through the darkness turned out to be taller and broader than the one he sought to hide from.
‘Well? What’s so important? Why all this secrecy?’ The individual demanded in a voice that was completely appropriate to his feminine attire though incongruous with his person.
‘Shh!’ Bhim cautioned, pulling Partha into the darkness. ‘Panchali is meeting the General here.’
‘You’re out of your mind, Bhim! How could you even think to say such a thing about her! She’d die before…’
‘How many times can she die, Partha? She’s afraid, she’s tired. Three nights ago, I saw her and the General walking across the grounds to that private palace or dungeon or whatever it is that he has. Today I overheard him talk of their plans to meet here, in the dancing hall. I know the fire Panchali is made of, but there is only so much anyone can take, especially when…when her own family can do nothing to protect her.’
Partha frowned. ‘I don’t believe you. You, the cook, know things that I, the palace attendant, don’t?’
Bhim sighed, annoyed at having to explain. ‘The General was posturing in front of me. I was there to serve him a special dish, on his sister’s orders. He took the opportunity to flaunt his conquest.’
Partha shrugged. ‘I still don’t believe you. But this much is certain: if the General comes here, if he as much as tries to touch Panchali…’
‘And if she is willing? If she comes to him of her own free will? What would be so horrible, so wrong, if a woman left a man who cannot care for her, for one who truly does? How does that make her a bad person?’
‘Vathu, Bhim!’ Partha snapped, without regard that the other was older. ‘Or has the kitchen soot finally clouded your brain? You’ve been listening to too much gossip.’
‘Oh, shut up, Partha,’ Bhim replied. ‘You’re just jealous that for once it’s me the women want, not you!’
The accusation calmed Partha down. He turned pensive. ‘Jealous?’ he said. ‘Yes, maybe. I don’t know if I’m the most fortunate man in the world or the most frustrated. Just yesterday, one of the handmaidens asked me to bring her more bathwater – and while she was still in her bath. Whatever you may or may not be doing as Vallabha the cook, your little act is nothing compared to what I’ve got going on here…’ he gestured to his feminine clothes, the vestments of Brihannala the eunuch.’ With a sigh, he added, ‘There are times when I don’t know who I am any more. Not because I have been emasculated. Haven’t we all, in some way? What bothers me is that I don’t know why I do what I do…’
Partha fell silent as his sharp ears picked up the rustle of clothing and the jangling of bangles. He shrunk back into the shadows next to Bhim, who pointed silently first to Panchali and then to the large shadow that approached from another entrance. ‘He’s here, too.’
The dark outline of the General came into prominence as he lit a lamp and placed it on a pedestal nearby. He greeted Panchali with a warm smile. ‘Malini… Tell me you are going to say yes.’
The Aryavarta Chronicles Kaurava: Book 2 Page 26