KRISHNA CORIOLIS#6: Fortress of Dwarka

by Ashok K. Banker

  ***

  Krishna did not have long to wait. Although his pushpak had reached the spot in mere moments and Jarasandha and the rest would take at least several moments to ride this far, the enemy was already at hand. What had not been visible from the sky due to the dense overgrowth of Dandaka-van was instantly perceptible at ground level.

  The forest was swarming with soldiers. Within moments of his touching ground, they began to appear at the edge of the forest, many pointing towards him and shouting to one another. He glimpsed riders farther away, coming and going from the direction of the town and elsewhere: couriers, conveying tactical commands. And soon enough, the first wave of enemy soldiers began emerging from the woods in a coordinated pattern. Once in open ground, they regrouped, forming ranks, lowering spears, and took up positions preparatory to a charge. As more and more emerged constantly, it was soon evident that this was no reinforcement force but an entire army. Or several armies.

  He had expected something like this. Not on this scale, it was true, but an aggressive show of arms. What he had not been expecting were Rukmi’s links to Jarasandha and the carefully orchestrated campaign of retaliation the Magadhan had swung into motion once he became aware of Krishna’s coming. More so because now Krishna was ham-strung.

  He dearly wanted to fight Jarasandha to end this conflict with the self-declared God Emperor once and for all. But to do so would put Rukmini’s brothers and father at risk. For they would surely come with Jarasandha on this field and participate in the battle. However carefully Krishna proceeded, there was always a risk of injury or worse to them. Even if he did not assault them directly, this was after all a battlefield now and war could result in strange outcomes.

  For the first time since leaving Dwarka, he wondered if he had made a mistake in leaving Balarama out of this. He had not wished to involve anyone, and leaving Balarama had been a tactical decision: With bhai home to protect the city and the people, he could complete his mission to fetch Rukmini without any distraction. But he could not help thinking now that it would have been useful to have the burly brother along for the ride as well. Balarama could be exceedingly useful in situations like this.

  You called, bhraatr?

  Krishna swung around, looking in the geographical direction from which the mind-voice had come. Bhai? Where are you?

  To the north and east of you, about a yojana away. Approaching some heavy interference now. Nothing we can’t handle though.

  We?

  The army is with me. Everyone knows about your trip to procure your wife. Did you really think we would stay in the dark about it? You know us Yadavas. Gossip spreads like wildfire; secret gossip spreads twice as fast!

  So you found out and told everyone.

  Krishna saw Balarama grinning in his mind’s eye. His brother was in his chariot, hovering above ground, the entire Yadava military force arrayed behind him. They were facing an army almost as large.

  I can’t take credit for this one, bhraatr. Apparently a young apprentice Watcher on the Wall was witness to your visitor the other day--the very wet brahmin you fished out of the sea? Young tongues being what they are, his wagged a bit. Before you could say Yashoda-maiya, the whole of Dwarka knew that a brahmin had come to meet you. One of your servants who delivered food to your apartment the next day couldn’t help but overhear him speaking to you and learned that he was named Sunanda and was from Vidarbha. The rest I gleaned together from what you had told me about finding out that your soul-mate was here in this time and place. Are we done with the update now?

  Yes, Krishna sent back, smiling and shaking his head ruefully. Apparently even gods couldn’t keep secrets anymore! Why? Do you have a pressing assignation elsewhere?

  Something like that. I believe the Magadhans wish to attack us or be attacked. We have to make our move now.

  So those are Jarasandha’s forces. I should have known.

  Yes. You should have. But it’s all right. We’re here now. The Magadhans have encircled the entire town and the surrounding villages. I think it’s a burn-and-rule plan.

  Krishna nodded to himself. That fit with what they knew of Jarasandha. Regardless of what happens today, he means to raze Kundina to the ground and take Vidarbha for himself. Because Bhishmaka and his line are not strong enough for Magadha to bother allying with. He intends to make vassals of the entire kingdom.

  You’re the military genius, bhraatr. Me, I just fight good. Which, by the way, I am now about to do. Permission to proceed, Dwarkadisha?

  Krishna nodded once, grimly, letting his teeth show. “Wipe them clean.”

  14

  JARASANDA seethed with rage. A courier had just brought word that the Yadava army had appeared and was engaging his army even now at this moment. Balarama was there and he was wreaking havoc in his ranks as usual.

  He was enraged because the losses he suffered now were irreparable: he could not go through a Vortal and re-engage the brothers once again if today’s outcome did not suit his purpose. If Balarama wiped out his army as he had before in the siege of Mathura, then that would be the end of Magadha and its forces.

  But the next instant he came within sight of Krishna and his mood changed. The Lord of Dwarka stood alone on an open plain, flanked by the armies of the suitors still emerging from the Dandaka-van, and the suitor kings and chiefs themselves, alongwith their champions and elite forces, Kundina behind them.

  It was obvious that Krishna meant to stand and fight rather than run. That was why Balarama was here too, with the Yadava army. So be it. This was a situation Jarasandha knew how to handle. Waging war was what he did. It was dealing with gods who flew away and hid on mountains that were vexing in the extreme.

  Jarasandha rode his chariot around to the front of the advancing column of suitors, all staring angrily at the lone Yadava ahead. He turned the vehicle around to face them, holding up his palm to indicate to them to halt. They did so.

  “Rukmi,” he called out loud enough for all to hear, even though Rukmi had been riding beside him all this while, “There stands Krishna, Slayer of Kamsa, murderer of his own uncle, Usurper of the throne of Mathura, fleer from battles, craven who hides rather than fights. I have named him Ranchodri Gupta! Ranchodri for his penchant for running away from battle rather than standing and fighting. Gupta because he hides rather than shows himself to the enemy. Today we have him cornered between our pursuing forces and the armies of your allies and friends. Here is your only opportunity to face him and fight him fairly. Go! Attack him with all your might. Cut him down where he stands and regain your stolen pride and honor!”

  Rukmi rode out to him, reigning in and speaking softly so only Jarasandha would hear. “I have heard tales of this Yadava. Some say he is a god in human guise. Others say he is possessed of superhuman strength and skills and slays asuras as if they were children. Why do you not lead us in the attack and challenge him yourself, Jara? You are by far the strongest here, both individually as well as in military strength.”

  Jarasandha gave him his response by shouting it out loud to the entire gathering. “Brave words, Rukmi! You speak truly. I offer to lead the attack and avenge your sister’s theft but she was after all your sister and it was your family’s honor that was sullied. Therefore your wisdom and courage are well directed: it is only fitting that you and your brothers should lead the attack. I know your father will back you up, despite his ailing health. Go then, brave Rukmi. Lead us in a charge of such noble rage that all Vidarbha shall remember your actions here today. No matter what happens, let the world south of Dandaka-van always know the bravery of Prince Rukmi in defending his family’s honor and his sister’s desecration.”

  And with those words, Jarasandha turned his chariot away before Rukmi could say another sentence and resumed his position in the line. Rukmi stayed where he was on horseback, glancing at the stormy faces of the other kings and suitors. He could refuse now or he would be seen as a coward or worse in their eyes. Nobody would ever respect him again. Yet, he was
not that much a dullar, nor that badly addled by Jarasandha’s potions--artfully slipped into his drink and food over the past several weeks by spasas loyal to Magadha--to know that Krishna was no ordinary foe.

  In the end, Rukmi showed his true mettle. He sucked in a full lungful of air, looking to his brothers. They came forward on his call, looking as uncertain as he did. Jarasandha saw their eyes flick to the lone figure on the mound on the plain and then back to their eldest brother. He spoke briefly with them, and from his tone and decisive manner, Jarasandha knew that he was telling them why they must do this and how they must do it, and there was no way out. They were all brave enough young men in their own foolish Vidarbha way, Jarasandha knew, and agreed without further ado.

  Then Rukmi turned his horse around and his five brothers and he all drew their swords and raised them high, as Rukmi gave the order to charge. And with that order, every king, chief, and yodha worth naming in the Vidarbha and neighboring region, attacked Krishna in a do-or-die assault. At the same time, their armies massed on Krishna’s far side, charged forward as well, both forces converging in an angular trajectory on the lone Yadava.

  Jarasandha chuckled even as he waited for the last of the suitors to follow Rukmi in the charge. Then, with nobody watching him, he wheeled his chariot away and sped away as quickly as he could flee. He had no intention of staying to fight Krishna. His only intention was to go save what was left of his army and escape from this war as quickly as possible. He had done his part for now, the rest of the plan did not require his presence to unfold.

  The fact that he was doing exactly what he had accused Krishna of doing in the face of battle: escaping and hiding. Ranchodri Gupta!

  So be it.

  After all, there was no shame in learning from the best!

  ***

  Krishna saw the five riders at the forefront and knew that once again Jarasandha had played a shrewd hand. By sending Rukmini’s brothers against him first, Jarasandha had put Krishna in a difficult position. Now, if he defended himself by retaliating, he risked maiming or killing one his own brothers-in-law. Even if he did not care how that might worsen his reputation among the enemy--“First he killed his uncle, then he killed his own wife’s brothers, after he kidnapped her from her own swayamvara!”--he had to care for his oath to Rukmini. The fact that she was watching this entire battle from the pushpak hovering above did not help.

  Bhraatr, I am having a fine time, Balarama bellowed, sending him a quick mind-image of himself wielding his great divine Gada, slaughtering hundreds at a blow. The air around Balarama was filled with spattered gore and flying body parts, the ground littered for miles in every direction as the Reaper of Dwarka literally ran through the Magadhan lines, harvesting a bloody crop.

  I am happy for you, bhai. I wish my task were as simple and I could just flail about too. Krishna watched morosely as the cavalry of the advancing armies broke into a full gallop now, riding down on him like a tidal wave on a beached seal. He sent back a quick mind-image to Balarama as well.

  That looks like a good fight to me, Balarama sent back. What’s the problem?

  This is my problem, Krishna replied and sent a mind-image of the other force bearing down on him, also now in a full-on galloping charge, led by Rukmi and his four brothers.

  Oh that, Balarama replied, but said no more, sizing up the dilemma in a jiffy. Krishna sensed his brother continue his rampage but with somewhat reduced glee.

  It’s all right, Krishna said reassuringly but glumly, I think I have an idea--let’s hope it works.

  And then both forces were upon him and the battle was joined.

  15

  Rukmini cried out as she watched her beloved pinned between the two apposite forces. The army that came from the Dandaka-van seemed to literally ride over Krishna, rendering the lone figure invisible for several moments as the charge led them past his position and hundreds of yards beyond before turning back and circling around him. At the same time, the force led by her brothers wheeled away at the last moment to avoid clashing with their own armies, riding around and waiting until the first wave had passed. The instant the army had ridden over and past Krishna, they began attacking him mercilessly even as they circled around in the opposite direction to trap Krishna in a circular maze of hostility.

  Arrows rained at Krishna in such vast numbers that Rukmini could barely see her beloved. It was like trying to see a puddle in a great rainstorm. She could not believe that anyone could withstand such a storm of arrows, yet Krishna remained standing, remained alive. She could see him riddled through with arrows, his body pierced by an untold number of missiles and could barely bear to watch.

  The Vidarbhans favored iron arrows, for their hills were filled with rich mineral veins and mining was a major activity. Wooden arrows, one could simply pull loose, but these iron missiles were immeasurably more painful to be struck by, and exquisitely painful to pull out. Even though she knew Krishna could survive even a hail of wounds and injuries, it did not absolve him of feeling mortal pain. She not begin to understand how he could endure such punishment. And she knew he was doing it for her sake: to avoid harming her brothers.

  But this was too much. Surely, he could not endure this much torture and still repair that mortal body?

  “Take me down,” she told the sarathi, who was also watching the battle with a curious mixture of horror and empathy on his round face. “I wish to speak with my Lord.”

  “Forgive me, my Lady,” he replied, joining his palms in respect. “My Lord’s instructions were clear. I was not to bring you any closer to the fray.”

  She slammed her fist onto the rim of the chariot. If only she was not fettered by this human body. If only she could do as Krishna could do in this lifetime: use her mortal form like a horse ridden by a divine rider. But she could not. And so she must watch and trust her beloved to deal with the dilemma.

  But when the second wave struck, even she could not bear to watch it all over again. She turned her face away and slumped to the floor of the chariot well, sitting and staring down at the golden pattern of the chariot’s floor. She noted that the pattern was a moving one that kept changing, never showing the same design twice. But in her mind all she could see was her beautiful beloved’s body riddle through with the iron arrows of her kinsfolk.

  How can you endure so much pain for me? her mind cried out to him, speaking the words her heart felt but could not voice.

  Because you are worth enduring all the pain in the world, my love, he replied.

  ***

  The kings and chiefs of Vidarbha as well as their yoddhas, their most elite fighters and their armies, all paused to gaze in awe at their solitary enemy.

  Krishna stood on the battlefield, a figure so riddled by black iron arrows that he appeared to be only a target for them, not a mortal man anymore.

  How could one man endure so many and still stand? they wondered. Their assaults had broken off as they stared at this marvel of nature. How could any warrior not succumb to so many wounds?

  And even if he was immortal and could not be killed by mortal weapons, he must surely feel the pain of those wounds, must he not? How could he endure such epic pain without once crying out or showing the pain in some way?

  Even above the thicket of arrows that bristled from his dark body, his face was still clearly visible, barely a dozen arrows sticking from his ears and cheeks and the fleshy underpart of his chin. Enough to see that he was not crying or moaning with agony.

  It was impossible. But yet there he was, right before their eyes.

  The forces of Vidarbha paused to show their respect for a fellow warrior with such epic endurance and courage as none of them had seen before.

  Even Rukmi and his brothers exchanged startled glances and marvelled at the sight, while they wondered secretly why Krishna did not fight back.

  Surely a warrior who could take a thousand arrows and still stand could fight back just as prodigiously? Then why did he not attempt to at least defend him
self, leave alone raise a weapon against them?

  Thus far, he had not lifted a finger in aggression. Nor had he begged them to spare him. He had simply stood there on that grassy mound and endured all.