Immortals of Meluha

by Amish Tripathi

  ‘My God,’ cried an anxious Daksha as he hugged Sati tight.

  The rescue party of five hundred soldiers had reached by the fourth hour of the second prahar. Daksha, Brahaspati and Kanakhala had accompanied the caravan despite Parvateshwar’s warnings of the risks. Releasing Sati from his grip, Daksha whispered as a small tear escaped his eyes, ‘You are not injured, are you?’

  ‘I am alright father,’ said Sati self-consciously. ‘Just a few cuts. Nothing serious.’

  ‘She fought very bravely,’ said Veerini, as she beamed with pride.

  ‘I think that is a mother’s bias,’ said Sati, as her serious expression was restored. Turning towards Shiva, she continued, ‘It was Shiva who saved the day, father. He figured out the real plan of the Chandravanshis and rallied everyone at the crucial moment. It was because of him that we beat them back.’

  ‘Oh, I think she’s too generous,’ said Shiva.

  She’s impressed. Finally!!

  ‘She isn’t being generous at all, my Lord,’ said a visibly grateful Daksha. ‘You have started your magic already. We have actually beaten back a terrorist attack. You don’t know how significant this is for us!’

  ‘But it wasn’t a terrorist attack, your Highness’ said Shiva. ‘It was an attempt to kidnap the princess.’

  ‘Kidnap?’ asked Daksha.

  ‘That hooded man certainly wanted her alive and unharmed.’

  ‘What hooded man?!’ cried Daksha, alarmed.

  ‘That was the Naga, your Highness,’ said Shiva, surprised at Daksha’s hysterical response. ‘I have seen that man fight. He is an excellent warrior. A little slow in his movements, but excellent all the same. But while fighting Sati he was trying his best not to hurt her.’

  The colour drained completely from Daksha’s face. Veerini glared at her husband with a strange mixture of fear and anger. The expressions on their faces made Shiva feel uncomfortable, as if he was intruding on a private family moment.

  ‘Father?’ asked a worried Sati. ‘Are you alright?’

  Hearing no response from Daksha, Shiva turned to Sati and said, ‘Perhaps it’s best if you speak to your family alone. If you don’t mind, I will go check if Nandi and the other soldiers are alright.’

  Parvateshwar was walking around his men, checking on the injured and ensuring that they received medical help, with Bhabravya two steps behind. He came up to the Chandravanshi who had been killed by Shiva while protecting Nandi. He roared in horror, ‘This man has been stabbed in the back!’

  ‘Yes, my Lord,’ said Bhabravya with his head bowed.

  ‘Who did this? Who broke the sacred rules of combat?’

  ‘I think it was the foreigner, my Lord. But I heard that he was trying to protect Captain Nandi who had been attacked by this Chandravanshi. And the Chandravanshi himself was not following the combat rules having attacked Nandi below the waist.’

  Parvateshwar turned with a withering look at Bhabravya, causing him to cower in fear. ‘Rules are rules,’ he growled. ‘They are meant to be followed even if your enemy ignores them.’

  ‘Yes, my Lord.’

  ‘Go make sure that the dead get proper cremations. Including the Chandravanshis.’

  ‘My Lord?’ asked a surprised Bhabravya. ‘But they are terrorists.’

  ‘They may be terrorists,’ snarled Parvateshwar. ‘But we are Suryavanshis. We are the followers of Lord Ram. There are norms that we follow even towards our enemies. The Chandravanshis will get proper cremations. Is that clear?’

  ‘Yes, my Lord.’

  ‘Why do you call the foreigner “Your Lord”?’ asked an injured Arishtanemi lying next to Nandi.

  Shiva had just departed after spending half an hour with Nandi and the other injured soldiers. If one saw the injured at this point, it would be impossible to believe that they had fought a battle just a few hours ago. They were talking jovially with each other. Some were ribbing their mates about how they had fallen for the red-herring at the beginning of the battle. In the Kshatriya way, to laugh in the face of death was the ultimate mark of a man.

  ‘Because he is my Lord,’ answered Nandi simply.

  ‘But he is a foreigner. A caste unmarked foreigner,’ said the Arishtanemi. ‘He is a brave warrior, no doubt. But there are so many brave warriors in Meluha. What makes him so special? And why does he spend so much time with the royal family?’

  ‘I can’t answer that, my friend. You will get to find out when the time is right.’

  The Arishtanemi looked at Nandi quizzically. Then shook his head and smiled. He was a soldier. He bothered himself only with the here and now. Bigger questions did not dwell too long in his mind. ‘In any case, I think the time is right to tell you that you are a brave man, my friend. I saw you fight despite your injury. You don’t know the meaning of the word surrender. I would be proud to have you as my bhraata!’

  That was a big statement from the Arishtanemi. The bhraata system that was followed in the Meluhan army meant that each soldier up to the rank of a captain was assigned a mate of equal rank. The two bhraatas would be like brothers who would always fight together and look out for each other. They would willingly fight the world for each other, would never love the same woman and would always tell each other the truth, no matter how bitter.

  The Arishtanemi were elite soldiers of the empire. An Arishtanemi offered to be a bhraata only to his own kind. Nandi knew that he could never really be the Arishtanemi’s bhraata. He had to stay with the Lord. But the honour of being offered the brotherhood of an Arishtanemi was enough to bring tears to Nandi’s eyes.

  ‘Don’t get teary on me now,’ chorded the Arishtanemi, wrinkling his nose in amusement.

  Nandi burst out in laughter as he slapped the Arishtanemi on his arm.

  ‘What is your name, my friend?’ asked Nandi.

  ‘Kaustav,’ replied the Arishtanemi. ‘Someday we shall batde the main Chandravanshi army together, my friend. And by the grace of Lord Ram, we will kill all those bastards!’

  ‘By Lord Agni, we will!’

  ‘It was interesting how you got into the Naga’s mind,’ said Brahaspati as he watched Shiva getting the gash on his torso cleaned and dressed.

  Shiva had insisted that his injuries receive medical attention only after every other soldier’s wounds had been tended.

  ‘Well, I can’t really explain it,’ said Shiva. ‘How the Naga would think just seemed so obvious to me.’

  ‘Well, I can explain it!’

  ‘Really? What?’

  ‘The explanation is that you are the omnipotent “N”, whose name cannot be spoken!’ said Brahaspati, opening his eyes wide and conjuring his hands up like an ancient magician.

  They burst out laughing, causing Shiva to rock back slightly. The military doctor gave Shiva a stern look, at which he immediately quietened down and let him finish tending to the wound. Having applied the Ayurvedic paste and covering it with the medicinal neem leaf, the doctor bandaged the wound with a cotton cloth.

  ‘You will need to change that every second day, foreigner,’ said the doctor pointing at the bandage. ‘The royal doctor in Devagiri will be able to do it for you. And don’t let this area get wet for a week. Also, avoid the Somras for this period since you will not be able to take a complete bath.’

  ‘Oh he doesn’t need the Somras,’ joked Brahaspati. ‘It’s already done all the damage it can on him.’

  Shiva and Brahaspati collapsed into helpless laughter again as the doctor walked away, shaking his head in exasperation.

  ‘But seriously,’ said Brahaspati calming down. ‘Why would they attack you? You have not harmed anybody’

  ‘I don’t think the attack was on me. I think it was for Sati.’

  ‘Sati! Why Sati? That’s even more bizarre.’

  ‘It probably wasn’t specifically for Sati,’ said Shiva. ‘I think the target was the royal family. The primary target was probably the Emperor. Since he wasn’t there, they went for the secondary target, Sati. I think
the aim was to kidnap a royal and use that person as leverage.’

  Brahaspati did not respond. He seemed worried. Clasping his hands together and bringing them close to his face, he looked into the distance, deep in thought. Shiva reached into his pouch and pulled out his chillum, before carefully filling it with some dried marijuana. Brahaspati turned to look at his friend, unhappy at what he was doing.

  ‘I’ve never told you this before Shiva and I probably shouldn’t as, well... since you are a free man,’ said Brahaspati. ‘But I consider you my friend. And it is my duty to tell you the truth. I have seen some Egyptian merchants in Karachapa with this marijuana habit. It’s not good for you.’

  ‘You’re wrong, my friend,’ said Shiva, grinning broadly. ‘This is actually the best habit in the world.’

  ‘You probably don’t know, Shiva. This has many harmful side effects. And worst of all, it even harms your memory, causing untold damage to your ability to draw on past knowledge.’

  Shiva’s face suddenly became uncharacteristically serious. He gazed back at Brahaspati with a melancholic smile. ‘That is exactly why it is good, my friend. No idiot who smokes this is scared of forgetting’

  Shiva lit up his chillum, took a deep drag and continued, ‘They are scared of not forgetting.’

  Brahaspati stared sharply at Shiva, wondering what terrible past could have prompted his friend to get addicted to the weed.

  CHAPTER 11

  Neelkanth Unveiled

  The next morning the royal caravan resumed its journey to Devagiri after spending the night at a temporary camp in the clearing. It wasn’t safe to travel at night considering the circumstances. The wounded, including Nandi, were lying in the first three carriages and the fifth one. The royal family and Shiva travelled in the fourth. All the soldiers who had fought in the previous day’s batde were given the privilege of riding on horses in relative comfort. Brahaspati and Kanakhala walked along with the rest of the troops, in mourning for the three slain Arishtanemi. Parvateshwar, Bhabravya and two other soldiers bore a make-shift wooden palanquin that carried three urns containing the ashes of the martyrs. The urns would be given to their families for a ceremonial submersion in the Saraswati. Shiva, Sati and Nandi too wanted to walk but the doctor insisted they were in no condition to do so.

  Parvateshwar walked with pride at the bravery of his soldiers. His boys, as he called them, had shown they were made of a metal forged in Lord Indra’s own furnace. He cursed himself for not being there to fight with them. He castigated himself for not being there to protect his goddaughter, bis Sati, when she was in danger. He prayed for the day when he would finally get a chance to destroy the cowardly Chandravanshis. He also silendy pledged that he would anonymously donate his salary for the next six months to the families of the slain soldiers.

  ‘Even I didn’t think he would fall to these levels!’ exclaimed Daksha in disgust.

  Shiva and Sati, comfortably asleep in the carriage, were woken up by Daksha’s outburst. Veerini looked up from the book that she was reading, narrowing her eyes to concentrate on her husband.

  ‘Who, your Highness?’ asked Shiva groggjly.

  ‘Dilipa! That blight on humanity!’ said Daksha, barely concealing his loathing.

  Veerini continued to stare hard at her husband. She slowly reached out, pulled Sati’s hand in hers, brought it close to her lips and kissed it gentiy. Then she put her other hand protectively on top of Sati’s hand. Sati looked at her mother warmly with a hint of a smile and rested her tired head on Veerini’s shoulders.

  ‘Who is Dilipa, your Highness?’ asked Shiva.

  ‘He is the Emperor of Swadweep,’ answered Daksha. ‘Everyone knows Sati is the apple of my eye. And they were possibly trying to kidnap her to force my hand!’

  Shiva gazed at Daksha with sympathy. He could understand the outrage of the Emperor at the latest Chandravanshi treachery.

  ‘And to be reduced to the level of even using a Naga for this nefarious plan,’ said a furious Daksha. ‘This just shows what the Chandravanshis are capable of!’

  ‘I don’t know if the Naga was being used, your Highness,’ said Shiva softiy. ‘It appeared as though he was the leader.’

  Daksha however was too lost in his righteous anger to even explore Shiva’s insinuation. ‘The Naga may have been the leader of this particular platoon, my Lord, but he would almost certainly be under the overall command of the Chandravanshis. No Naga can be a leader. They are cursed people born with horrific deformities and diseases in this birth as a punishment for terrible crimes that they have committed in their previous birth. The Nagas are embarrassed to even show their face to anyone. But they have tremendous power and skills. Their presence strikes terror in the heart of all Meluhans, and most Swadweepans as well. The Chandravanshis have sunk low enough to even consort with those deformed demons. They hate us so much that they don’t even realise the sins they are bringing on their own souls by interacting with the Nagas.’

  Shiva, Sati and Veerini continued to hear Daksha’s ranting in silence.

  Turning towards Shiva, Daksha continued, ‘Do you see the kind of vermin we are up against, my Lord? They have no code, no honour. And they outnumber us ten to one. We need your help my Lord. It’s not just my people, but my family as well. We are in danger.’

  ‘Your Highness, I will do all that I can to help you,’ said Shiva. ‘But I am not a general. I cannot lead an army against the Chandravanshis. I am just a simple tribal leader. What difference can one man make?’

  ‘At least let me announce your presence to the court and the people, my Lord,’ urged Daksha. ‘Just spend a few weeks travelling through the empire. Your presence will raise the morale of the people. Look at the difference you made yesterday. We actually foiled a terrorist attack because of you, because of your presence of mind. Please, let me announce your arrival. That is all I ask.’

  Shiva looked at Daksha’s earnest face with trepidation. He could feel Sati’s and Veerini’s eyes on him. Especially Sati’s.

  What am I getting myself into?

  ‘All right,’ said Shiva in resignation.

  Daksha got up and hugged Shiva in an unyielding grip.

  ‘Thank you, my Lord!’ exclaimed Daksha, as Shiva withdrew from his embrace to come up for air. ‘I will announce your presence at the court tomorrow itself. Then you can leave for a tour of the empire in another three weeks. I will personally make all the arrangements. You will have a full brigade travelling with you for security. Parvateshwar and Sati will accompany you as well.’

  ‘No!’ protested Veerini in a harsh tone that Sati had never heard her mother use. ‘Sati is not going anywhere. I am not going to allow you to put our daughter’s life in danger. She is staying with me in Devagiri.’

  ‘Veerini, don’t be silly,’ said Daksha calmly. ‘You really think that anything would happen to Sati if the Lord Neelkanth was around. She is at the safest when she is with the Lord.’

  ‘She is not going. And that is final!’ glared Veerini in a firm voice, clutching Sati’s hand tighdy.

  Daksha turned towards Shiva, ignoring Veerini. ‘Don’t worry, my Lord. I will have all the arrangements made. Parvateshwar and Sati will also travel with you. You will just have to restrain Sati sometimes.’

  Shiva frowned. So did Sati.

  Daksha smiled genially. ‘My darling daughter has the tendency to be a litde too brave at times. like this one time, when she was just a child, she had jumped in all by herself, with nothing but her short sword, to save an old woman being attacked by a pack of wild dogs. She nearly got herself killed for her pains. It was one of the worst days of my life. I think it is the same impulsiveness which worries Veerini as well.’

  Shiva looked at Sati. There was no expression on her face.

  ‘That’s why,’ continued Daksha, ‘I am suggesting that you keep her restrained. Then there should be no problem.’

  Shiva glanced again at Sati. He felt a surge of admiration coupled with the boundless lov
e he felt for her.

  She did what I couldn’t do.

  The next morning, Shiva found himself seated next to Daksha in the Meluhan royal court. The magnificence of the court left him wonderstruck. Since this was a public building, the usual Meluhan reticence and understated designs had been bypassed. It was built next to the Great Public Bath. While the platform had been constructed of the standard kiln-bricks, the structure itself, including the floor, was made of teak wood — easily carved and shaped, yet strong. Brawny wooden pillars had been laid into set grooves on the platform. The pillars had been extravagantly sculpted with celestial figures like apsaras, devas and rishis — celestial nymphs, gods and sages — amongst others. An ornately carved wooden roof that had been inlaid with gold and silver designs crowned the top of the pillars. Pennants of the holy blue colour and royal red colour hung from the ceiling. Each niche on the walls had paintings depicting the life of Lord Ram. But Shiva had little time to admire the glorious architecture of the court.

  Daksha’s expectations would be apparent in his speech and were causing him considerable discomfort.

  ‘As many of you may have heard,’ announced Daksha, ‘there was another terrorist attack yesterday. The Chandravanshis tried to harm the royal family on the road from Mount Mandar to Devagiri.’

  Murmurs of dismay filled the court. The question troubling everyone was how the Chandravanshis had discovered the route to Mount Mandar. Shiva meanwhile kept reminding himself that this wasn’t a terrorist attack. It was just a kidnap attempt.

  ‘The Chandravanshis had planned their attack with great deception,’ said Daksha, drowning out the murmurs with his booming voice.

  The talented architects of the court had designed the structure in a manner that any voice spoken from the royal platform resonated across the entire hall. ‘But we beat them back. For the first time in decades, we beat back a cowardly terrorist attack.’