Though people could move freely from one province to another, each of the three Pandyan kings was obliged to remain within his new boundaries and was restricted from travelling to other provinces. The conditions laid down by Vikrama were followed much after his disappearance.
Parakrama sat on the throne of his ancestors and controlled Madurai, the heart of the Pandyan dynasty. Despite the misery he had inflicted, Sundar was now a king on equal terms with the other two and was sated with the transitory pleasures that were his. Veera alone suffered from memories of Madurai. His head seemed empty without the weight of the crown of pearls. Life seemed shallow after the loss of Madurai.
Veera often thought of the Meenakshi temple. After the city had been recaptured, the temple had been consecrated with purifying ceremonies and the function was followed by a rush of the faithful, pressing forward to see their gods. Despite the replacement of many an idol, everybody missed the idol of Meenakshi, the most beloved of them all.
When Veera had entered the southern areas in exile, he was the king of a country whose people he did not know much about. Tenkasi was like the rustic brother a family hid when guests were around. Even its people had always viewed him as a distant king, and his proximity made no difference to them.
But in three years, he had gained the affection of his people. Unlike in Madurai, where he had held court with great pomp, Veera found he was closer to the people of his new kingdom. Yet, he still woke up to the feeling that he was back in Madurai. He would almost expect to see the Meenakshi temple’s towers from his window.
*
Strife, however, insisted on following his people like a shadow. The Pandyans’ affluence had once aroused extreme jealousy. Now their woes were tempting trouble, this time from their own kinsmen who thought they could do better than them.
A messenger from Madurai turned up one day to say the Cheras under the leadership of Ravivarman Kulasekharan, Meena’s son, were assembling in great numbers on the borders of Madurai. Parakrama had asked for help from the other Pandyans because the calamitous war with the Turks had weakened their individual armies and made it necessary to resort to assistance from his co-kings.
Veera knew the torment Parakrama would have undergone to ask for his help; after all, he had failed Parakrama who had such faith in him. Sunanda, who had stayed back with her son, hadn’t done much to reconcile her son with Veera. He did not care to return to Pandyan politics. But Radhika insisted he must leave immediately to save the capital.
Riding towards Madurai, Veera felt cheated by Vikrama. He should have realized the political designs Vikrama still nursed. He had long suspected that the old man had moved towards Chera lands, now the strongest of all Tamil kingdoms, their empire untouched by the Sultanate. And their king was a grandson of Pandyan royalty and so could stake a claim to the Pandyan throne too. The Cheras had to be defeated but Veera knew that whoever won, Madurai would be enfeebled forever.
Ravivarman had demanded that Parakrama cede the territory between their lands, claiming it to be traditionally his. But his rhetoric was just an excuse. The Cheras had soon run short of words and now threatened Pandyan lands. It became common knowledge that Ravivarman was now guided by Vikrama. He had captured Kanchi in the north and now held substantial Pandyan territory, from the Pennar river in the south to Poonamallee in the north. The final affront was that he had crowned himself the Pandyan emperor on the banks of the Vegavati river.
Three days later, when Veera and his forces arrived at the outskirts of Madurai, they found war operations underway. Sundar’s armies were already there. When the two brothers met, no words were exchanged except a nod. Sundar looked old, prompting Veera to think that Sundar must have gathered around him a clique of idlers and drinkers and their whoring must have taken its toll.
Relief was visible on Parakrama’s face when he welcomed him. He requested Veera to lead the combined armies since he was the most experienced warrior. Neither Parakrama nor Sundar seemed to feel it odd to serve under him. They had perhaps already decided that only Veera could do it. It pleased Veera that they thought his leadership would be valuable, despite the fact that he had been stamped with the seal of cowardice.
The kings were intent on not letting the invader get close to the city. They marched for a day to the west of Madurai until they reached the plains adjacent to the Cauvery. And it was there that the battle began.
The Cheras had assembled under the banner of the archer’s bow, while the Pandyan armies were once again united by the banner of the twin fishes. Within an hour of the raging battle, the outcome was clear. The Pandyan divisions began to rout the Cheras. The latent anger of the years gone by unleashed a ferocity in the Pandyan army that gathered even more strength as they attacked the enemy. The Cheras began to retreat almost immediately, surprised at the newfound unity among Pandyan forces.
Veera saw Vikrama retreating along with the Chera forces. He must have been stunned by their unity, for he expected their infighting would make them an easy prey for his grandson.
*
The victory over the Cheras brought plenty of optimism among the Pandyan people. Veera received an enthusiastic response from his forces, and felt this victory could perhaps erase the memories of his ignoble retreat years ago.
Veera found the duties of kingship had taken its toll on Parakrama. He seemed to have lost his high spirits and youthful gaiety. He held his uncle’s hands in thanks and asked him to return to the capital as emperor. Veera had already decided he would say no to the offer. His duty now lay further to the south. He refused to enter Madurai when Parakrama invited everybody inside the fort walls, however enticing it was. He would not enter the fort nor tread its cobbled pathways, not now. It would be too much to bear.
In the aftermath of the victory over the Cheras, Veera set about ruling his southern lands with a vengeance. He ordered the desilting of the rivers and floodwater was now diverted into numerous tanks. Within a few years his farmers were able to grow three crops of rice every year. He revived the pearl trade with equal gusto, and soon foreign merchants thronged the oyster market.
But back in Madurai, precisely eight years after the first invasion, the Delhi Sultanate raided it again. The new invaders seemed more rapacious than Malik Kafur’s forces and they swept the land with the speed of wind. The southern states went into a frenzy, convinced they would never see peace again. Unlike the past invasions, the new wave of Turks did not negotiate. Pratap Rudra, the king of Warangal, was held captive and transported to Delhi in a cage like an animal. Halfway to the capital, he starved himself and died of shame. The only king the Turks made peace with was Vir Bhallala, the Hoysala king, who offered logistical support for the Turk’s trip further south.
Parakrama sent Sunanda south to Veera, with as much wealth as the entourage could carry. Despite the pleasant surprise he got on seeing Sunanda after nearly a decade, Veera was worried and realized Parakrama was not sure of the outcome of the war and had consequently sent her away. Sunanda informed Veera of a general mobilization as Parakrama wanted to battle the Turks.
Soon after she arrived, a horseman galloped to Veera’s court with a message. It was a request for help from Parakrama. Veera felt a pang of guilt once again. Parakrama had foreseen the clouds of war on the horizon and had attempted to unite the disparate empires once again under Veera, but he had shirked the responsibility once again.
By now, Veera’s army was one of the largest in the region. The income from the pearl trade had supplied the best steeds from Arabia. The best of weapons were forged by his ironsmiths. Veera had sixty thousand foot soldiers and a cavalry of ten thousand more – he even had a hundred elephants. Yet, he was in two minds. He could take on the Turks and clear the smudge on his name once and for all. But he did not want to get his kingdom involved. And if that general Malik Kafur led the Turks, nobody could win against his luck.
Radhika reprimanded him when he voiced his thoughts. ‘You ought to be ashamed of yourself. It is your duty to
speed to his succour. Go,’ she exhorted, ‘go and defend Madurai like you should have before.’
Brought to his senses by Radhika’s stinging rebuke, he placed a fourth of his army on high alert and marched north. Halfway to Madurai, he sent out an advance patrol to clear the roads that were full of southbound refugees. The Turks’s latest invasion had resulted in a terrible stampede and many people barely had time to escape. Madurai was in a state of chaos, and within a week of the invasion, the remaining population had moved out, leaving the temple unprotected once again. All the idols had been moved with the treasury to Veera’s care.
The refugees were questioned by Veera’s men, and they said that a skeleton force remained in Madurai to defend the city. The bulk of Parakrama’s forces had moved north to meet the Turk halfway, without waiting for his allies to bulwark his forces. They had moved ahead so rapidly that they were now cut off from familiar territory, resulting in logistical deficiencies. Aiming for a breakthrough into the Turkish army, Parakrama had launched a premature offensive near Cannanore. However, the Turk was well prepared.
The Turkish army had broken through their front ranks and mowed through the rest of the army. Parakrama’s army was surrounded near the Cauvery and routed. Despite his men fighting to the finish, the heroism of their monarch could not make up for the total disorganization of the armed forces.
Veera was late in arriving, and the battlefield was filled with the dead and dying by the time he did. The battle was already over and the torn masts with the pennant of the fish indicated who had lost. If only he had reached earlier, perhaps he could have reversed the situation. Despite the loss, he was filled with admiration for Parakrama’s courage. There was hope for the future, he thought, the Tamils will not be frightened forever.
His spies informed him that a mortally injured Parakrama had been taken to the safety of the forests. The Turks had not bothered about the dying king and instead made it straight for Madurai. Though Veera wanted to follow the Turks, he was restrained by his generals. If Veera lost the war, the rest of the south would be left wide open for their tentacles to spread.
Veera was led to the thickets amid which the defeated soldiers of Madurai awaited. The air was thick with the stench of death and Veera immediately knew he would not see Parakrama alive.
And then he found soldiers weeping unashamedly around the body of Parakrama. A hundred bloody gashes streaked his torso. As he held Parakrama’s head in his benumbed hands and placed it on his lap, Veera suddenly felt very old. Parakrama had died when the country badly needed his services. He hadn’t married and did not have any children. Veera felt his race was about to come to an end. He was shaken with grief. Despite not being born to his wife and not bearing his name, Parakrama had still been his son. He hadn’t been there to hear the child’s first wail, and now his boy had died alone, without knowing who his father was.
Veera arranged for the funeral to be conducted on the banks of the Cauvery. They had to make do with half-dried logs of thorny wood, for the bier of sandalwood that a monarch deserved was nowhere to be found in the wilderness. A king, born out of wedlock and dead before his prime, was now being sent off on a bier befitting a common man. As Parakrama was laid on the pyre, Veera’s heart sank. How will I convey the news to Radhika and Sunanda?
Veera lit the pyre, his dress fluttering in the wind as the flames rose high, and stood on the banks of the Cauvery until the fire had consumed all that remained of Parakrama. He waited till the next day to collect the ashes and immerse them in the Vaigai as his forces moved south, skirting Madurai. Veera did not want to see the cursed city again.
When Veera told Radhika and Sunanda of Parakrama’s death, it was as if a giant hammer struck them. Stunned by the news, the three of them wept their sorrows away. Over the days Veera noticed that Parakrama’s demise troubled Radhika much more than Sunanda. Radhika had treated Parakrama as the son who she could never give birth to. Sunanda had been plagued by bad luck for so long that she had ceased to expect good things to ever happen to her.
*
The Turks were surprised, for they found Madurai emptied of her riches and her people. They decided it would be more fruitful to install a resident governor who would represent the Sultanate, making the city a stronghold in an unfriendly country. Learning from the blunders of the previous rulers, they had immediately repaired the flanks of the fortress, strengthened the gates and posterns and thickened the bulwarks with layers of mud from the moat, which they had desilted.
When reports of the Turks ensconcing themselves in Madurai reached Tenkasi, Veera immediately made new defence arrangements to protect the southern lands. Luckily, the road to Tenkasi led through hills, and Veera ensured that all the passes were adequately manned. The Turks would not be able to cross any of these.
Tenkasi began bulging at its seams. Those who had come there for the duration of hostilities were forced to stay back. Gradually, over the years, the city would emerge as the bulwark of Hindu culture and religion. Many temples came up to house the idols that had been brought from Hindu lands to save them from falling into the Turks’ hands.
Constant reports from Madurai flooded the Tenkasi palace. The Turks had established themselves well within the fort walls. The governor who had initially professed fealty to the Sultan in Delhi had convinced himself he was fit enough to rule independently, and declared the Madurai Sultanate independent of Delhi’s clutches. His rule was cruel. His insecurity made him bloodthirsty and brutal – temples were burnt down and looted and women were forcibly inducted into harems. Anyone getting close to the fort walls was shot down.
In contrast, the land in Tenkasi was happy and the rains did not fail them. But on the personal front, Veera suffered. A weakened Radhika died suddenly. She had never recovered from Parakrama’s death. She was just talking to Veera one night when her eyes closed, making him think she had gone to sleep. Her body jerked once and then she was still. Veera was grief-stricken. He remembered how Radhika had stood by him through all his travails and knew it would be hard to fill the void she had left.
There was nobody to look after him and that was when Sunanda moved in. These two lonely people would spend their last years together – just as the oracle in the forest cave had predicted decades ago.
Sundar, too, passed away, his lands divided by all the half-brothers who claimed nooks and corners of the erstwhile empire for themselves. The throne of Madurai seemed forever lost to Veera.
Veera had found a valuable assistant in his son by Vani, Chandran. Vani herself had vanished after Malik’s invasion, while the boy had escaped. The boy was able and smart and he was the only person Veera would listen to. The adamant nature Veera had acquired of late was an irritant to his courtiers, and it was Chandran who moderated in between them.
It was then that the Hoysala king mooted the idea of a simultaneous attack on Madurai by forces from all directions. Since the Pandyans controlled the south wholly, they had to be an integral part of the force to oust the Turks. They sent a messenger to Veera, asking for his help.
Veera’s first reaction was a fleeting nostalgia for the city; could he win it back? But he pushed aside all such thoughts. He would not support the Hoysalas. That the Hoysalas had attempted to champion the cause of Hindus stirred his indignation. After all, they had been the ones who had allowed the Turks to enter the south so easily. Veera held the Hoysalas responsible for the loss of Madurai and the death of Parakrama. And more importantly, he thought it unlikely that the Hoysalas would grant him the throne if the Turks were cast out. Veera refused to budge out of Tenkasi. But the aged Hoysala king had already set his war plans in motion. He was confident that he alone could defeat the Turks and reap the benefits.
A month later, Veera found out that the Hoysalas had successfully beaten down resistance and they were able to reach the ramparts of the fort to lay siege. But one night, the Turks gathered up their forces and thrust a battle on them. The Hoysalas had been vanquished and their king had been apprehen
ded alive. He had subsequently been flayed and his body now hung stuffed with straw from the bulwarks of the fort.
Veera took secret pleasure in the idea of the Hoysala king now hanging from the bulwarks of his city – a city that had been lost because of his cavorting with the enemy. The Turks did not dupe me out of my heritage; they instead did my job for me, he gloated. Others around him were worried; Veera was losing his focus on who the real enemy was.
Despite the defeat of the Hoysalas, Veera continued to nurture a deep nostalgia for Madurai. Was the city lost to him forever? Could he not see it one last time – maybe not as a king, but at least as a visitor?
CHAPTER 40
THE END OF EVERYTHING
There was simply nobody who could rival Malik during the transition after the Sultan’s death. Still, he remained extra-cautious. The royalty was on its knees before him in the shadows, but in the limelight, the empire still bowed to them. Yet his victory seemed near at hand. Though there were those who began to think matters had gone far enough, people feared his violent temper and even the new Sultan, the toddler, would urinate in his dress when Malik came close by.
Unlike the child-sultan Umar, the other princes were grown men and could have bayed for his blood, if Malik hadn’t had them blinded. The pity was that they had accepted their fate with the least resistance. Those inside the palace knew Malik would not let the child Umar live any longer than his own convenience required. And then, when the throne was for up grabs, as the Naib-Sultan he would be the only candidate. The general population knew very little of court politics and began to warm up to the Sultan in diapers. The boy was introduced to the court at a ceremony where all the nobles took the oath of allegiance to the toddler, acknowledging him as the new Sultan.
The Delhi Sultanate still professed subordination to the Baghdad Caliphate and an intimation was sent to the Caliph on the change of guard. Malik had taken all precautions. He did not want any cronies to influence the child-king or his mother and they were shifted to rooms adjacent to his chambers. This brought upon rumours, his spies reported, that he had taken the queen mother to bed. Malik was satisfied that the rumour had not aroused anybody.
Gods, Kings & Slaves: The Siege of Madurai Page 47