But when he spoke of his encounter with Supanakha, masquerading as Ravana, and of her comment that Ravana himself was away on urgent business, she frowned and shot off questions like darts. Where had Ravana gone? Why was Supanakha permitted to occupy his private quarters? Had Ravana allowed her to morph into his form or had she done as cheekily as she pleased?
Vibhisena shook his head. ‘I do not know, sister. But pray, hear me out to the end.’
She listened as he explained how, after that encounter, he began lurking and listening at corners, paying attention to the smallest scrap of news. He heard tell of a new level on the topmost floor of the tower and visited that level—at that time, it was not barred to anyone, since there was nobody there at the time. He described the place to Mandodhari.
‘It sounds like any forest glade,’ she said.
‘Exactly, my lady. And why would Ravana wish to have a forest glen within the tower? To house a prisoner whom he wished to deceive as well as conceal, I thought.’ He had tried visiting the place more recently, after he’d heard about the prisoner esconced there, but it had been barred to all, of course. Only Ravana himself could enter … and, until recently, one other person.
‘Who?’ she asked, curious as well as a little jealous. Whom else did Ravana trust enough to share his secret with?
Vibhisena looked at her closely. ‘Will you meet this person? She is my source of the most accurate information about Ravana and his great plan. She has much valuable information to share with us, information that may be crucial to helping us prevent yet another war. That is why I suggested the Apsara Gardens. I was to meet her here after the sabha in any case.’
She thought she could already guess at the identity of the person of whom Vibhisena spoke. Since his resurrection, Ravana had showed little or no interest in matters sexual or persons female. His present abduction of the mortal woman notwithstanding, he seemed to have lost much of his former virility. Even the few nights he had shared her bed had been desultory and wholly unlike his former bull-like self, his appetites diminished, almost vanished. But one female had always been close by his side and despite the humiliation Mandodhari had suffered in the sabha hall, she had not failed to notice the absence of …
‘Supanakha,’ she said, turning her head. ‘Why don’t you join us? For once, you can pay for your eavesdropping by sharing a bit of your own gossip too.’
She looked at the decrepit broken-sur on the path behind them. She had been certain that it had not been there the instant they had come through the portal, had appeared a few minutes later. And she was well aware of Supanakha’s talent for self-transformation.
With a grunt and a belch, spitting out a mouthful of half-chewed leaves and curdled cud, the broken-sur began to morph, some of its bones shrinking, others elongating, changing shape and curvature. Skin crackled as it stretched and changed colour, softening and turning glossy and shiny.
In moments, the sleek catlike form of Supanakha stood on the pathway beside them, yellow, incandescent eyes squinting in the bright sunlight at Mandodhari.
TWELVE
Supanakha flashed her fangs at the queen of Lanka. Mandodhari looked down at her imperiously from her haughty tall frame, her thin, disapproving mouth curled in a small moue of dislike. There had never been any love lost between them, and at times, Supanakha had fantasised about pleasuring with her cousin’s snobbish wife, replacing that superior sniffle with moans of wild, undignified abandonment, and then, when the tall, noble rakshasi was at her most vulnerable, rendered as naked and wanton as the cheapest flesh-whore in Lanka, tearing into her vitals and eating her alive. Mating with and eating one’s enemies while they were in the throes of ecstasy, was a long-honoured tradition in many rakshasa tribes, but it was usually reserved for enemies captured after loss in battle. Supanakha and Mandodhari had never had reason to fight any battles, but now, looking at that proud face with its still-unlined cheeks and barely visible traces of maturity, that aquiline profile and pale, creamish skin, she wished fervently that someday, she had cause to do battle with this woman, if only to earn the right to enjoy the spoils of that battle afterwards.
She flicked her tail hard and snarled softly at both the rakshasi and her spineless, mortal-loving, deva-worshipping brother-inlaw. Pathetic allies these, but she had little choice. Since Ravana had exiled her from the tower, she had been forced to wander the city, passing her time with indiscriminate matings and prolific quantities of the som-daru her mates brought her. She had managed to kick up a row or two, killing and maiming a few stout fellows, and that had passed a few hours satisfactorily. But she was hugely resentful and frustrated at having been shut out by Ravana. How could he? After all she had done for him? She snarled again, making no secret of her hatred for this rakshasi who trotted about on her hind legs like she was superior to her sisters, and her scorn for the pious, celibate, self-righteous fool, but curbed her sudden longing to take out her fury on them. She had made use of lesser allies than these before. They might prove useful yet, if Ravana persisted in keeping her out. And if he relented as he had so often before, then their little treasonous chicanery would no doubt be of great interest to him. Either way, she stood to gain.
‘I don’t trust her.’ She addressed her words at Vibhisena, disdainfully ignoring Ravana’s wife. ‘She will go running to him and tell him of our talks.’
Vibhisena looked pained at the accusation. ‘Don’t be silly, cousin. Mandodhari is the most honourable rakshasi alive. Besides, even if she,’ he paused, and added pointedly, ‘or anyone else were to tell Ravana what we discuss here, he would have no reason to be upset. We only want what is best for Lanka.’
‘And what if what is best for Lanka is not what is best for Ravana? What then? Don’t you think your tete-à-tête with his wife and cousin might fall under the heading of treason?’
Mandodhari spoke up, the tightness of her tone indicating that she had taken affront at Supanakha’s allegation. Good, it was nice to get through that iron facade. ‘Preposterous. I am Ravana’s wife. I care as much about him as I do about Lanka.’ She shot a reproving glance at Vibhisena. ‘It is futile to separate the two. Ravana is Lanka and Lanka, Ravana. What is best for one is best for both.’
Vibhisena opened his mouth to answer, then shut it. Mandodhari gave them both a moment to speak, then went on tartly, addressing Supanakha. ‘In any case, what is your greivance with my husband? The last I knew, you two were closer than a tick and a kumbha-rakshasa’s rump.’
Supanakha flicked her tail, severing a rare, fragile orchid from its stalk with the sharp-pointed tip of her tail. She changed the tip back into its furry, normal form before curling it behind her own rump. ‘We had a disagreement over the mortal woman.’
Vibhisena spoke up hurriedly, as if eager to dispel any hostility between his sister-in-law and his cousin. His eagerness to avoid violence was one of the things she despised about him. How could a rakshasa shy away from violence, the most basic fact of existence? It was like denying one’s very desire to survive!
‘Supanakha attacked the mortal woman and tried to kill her. Ravana was enraged at her and exiled her from the tower.’
‘He might as well have exiled me from Lanka itself,’ she snarled. ‘Everything that matters happens in there now. It’s a city unto itself.’
Mandodhari looked intrigued. ‘So you tried to kill Sita?’ She nodded thoughtfully. ‘I can see why you would desire her killed. Her husband was the source of much unhappiness in your life.’ She was silent a moment, as if recalling Supanakha’s long history of conflict with the exiled princes of Ayodhya. Then she asked, with expertly feigned casualness. ‘How is the mortal woman? To look at, I mean? Is she as ugly as most of them?’
Supanakha sniggered throatily. ‘You mean, does she look like you or is she even halfway attractive? Why? Isn’t my cousin parting your thighs often enough to satisfy you, my lady?’
Mandodhari stared down at her coldly. Over her shoulder, she addressed Vibhisena. ‘You k
now, brother dear, I wonder if this creature will be of any help to us at all. It seems she has little more than petty gossip and lewd remarks to offer.’
Vibhisena tugged on his pigtail in dismay, licking his lips nervously. ‘Supanakha, cousin. Please, just tell Mandodhari what you told me earlier. About Ravana’s master plan and how Sita fits into the whole scheme.’
Supanakha shrugged. She was tiring of this discussion anyway. She would rather be fornicating with a few virile rakshasas or quaffing a gallon or two of bloodwine in one of Lanka’s cave-inns. ‘Ravana didn’t kidnap Rama’s wife only to satisfy his own lust. There’s a much bigger plan behind it all. It was at my suggestion that he brought her here in the first place.’
‘At your suggestion?’ Mandodhari looked openly sceptical.
Supanakha bared her teeth. ‘I don’t really care if you believe me or not. But it was I who provided the key to Ravana’s resurrection, if you remember? And part of my price for rejuvenating my dearest cousin was that I would be avenged on Rama.’
Mandodhari’s eyes glinted. ‘What was that key? I have never been able to understand that. We tried for thirteen years using every spell, herb and ritual known to asura maya. How was it that you, a mongrel mixed-breed, were able to do it in moments? Were you somehow ordained by greater forces? If so, then why? Why you of all persons?’
‘What do I look like?’ she shot back. ‘A streetside astrologer? I don’t have all the answers. All I know is that when Rama and his companions killed the last of my tribe-brothers in the wilds of Janasthana, I felt compelled to take something belonging to him and return to Lanka. And I did. Then, when I was within reach of Ravana’s mindvoice, he bade me come to him and give me that thing of Rama I had brought back. And it turned out to be the very thing he needed to break the spell he was under. But don’t ask me the how or why of it. I don’t bother myself with such things the way you fools do. It’s enough to eat, mate and kill. The rest I leave to you wretched politicians!’
Mandodhari seemed unperturbed by the outburst. ‘You underestimate yourself, shapechanger. You are quite the politician yourself. Or you wouldn’t be here at all!’
Supanakha turned around to show the queen of Lanka her rump, raising her tail to make sure Mandodhari had a good look at her nether end. The hastily covered face and pinched nostrils were very satisfying to behold. ‘Shall I go on or would you like to continue speaking to my other, better half?’
Vibhisena waved hastily at her, as if showing a peace flag. ‘Cousin! Enough bickering. Go on with your narrative.’
Mandodhari regained her composure faster than Supanakha had expected. ‘What was the thing belonging to Rama that you brought back from Janasthana, which magically revived my husband?’
‘A trace of Rama’s blood,’ Supanakha purred. ‘I swallowed it and placed it in my second stomach, the one I use to store food for later use, the way a camel stores water in its hump in anticipation for the summer.’
‘We know about winter bellies, Supanakha,’ Mandodhari said, her expression one of distraction. She was digesting Supanakha’s revelation. ‘His blood, you say? That is fascinating. Why would Rama’s blood be the key to resurrecting Ravana?’
Vibhisena spoke up hesitantly. ‘It implies a deep connection between them. Something we have not understood fully thus far.’ In his usual ponderous way, he added, ‘Whatever the significance, I have no doubt that it was ordained thus by the devas themselves, for nothing happens without their knowledge and assent. For some good reason, they have linked the life of my brother to that of Rama Chandra of Ayodhya, and that must mean their fates are intertwined as well.’
‘There is no such thing as fate, Vibhishan,’ Mandodhari said impatiently. ‘Only karma. As we act, so shall we reap. You of all people should know that.’
‘What you say is true, and yet … ’ Vibhisena shook his head. ‘The more I study the history of my people, the more I wonder. The three tenets of dharma, karma and artha seem to have little bearing on the rakshasa races. I often wonder if even my long prayers and devotion will ever bear fruit and bring about the salvation of our kind.’
‘Perhaps you expect too much too soon,’ Mandodhari said, still distracted by her inner chain of thoughts. ‘Have faith.’
‘It is all I have,’ Vibhisena replied.
Supanakha growled, spitting to remind them of her presence. ‘If you want to talk this rotten-flesh talk, then I’m leaving.’
‘Go on then, Supanakha,’ Mandodhari said. ‘Tell us what your plan was, to avenge yourself on Rama. And why did my husband agree to go along with it? Because, I know my husband well enough to know that he would never undertake any step that did not profit him directly. What did he stand to gain by kidnapping Rama’s wife?’
Supanakha rolled her shoulders thoughtfully. ‘I don’t know, or particularly care,’ she admitted. ‘I demanded of him when he was still in that redstone block inside that cave in the earth that he would help avenge me on Rama and his brother, and in exchange for that I would give him the thing he said he needed to come alive again. And he agreed. I gave it no more thought.’
‘That’s obvious. So your plan was simply for him to go to the place where Rama was living in exile and kidnap his wife. Then what?’
‘Then we were to wait.’
‘Wait for what?’
‘For Rama and Lakshman to come to Lanka.’
‘To rescue his wife, you mean. And then what?’
‘And then we would kill them.’ Supanakha smacked her chops, relishing the very thought. ‘I would finally have my vengeance on them both for humiliating and scarring me and for killing fourteen thousand of my tribe-brothers.’
Mandodhari was looking at her with an odd expression.
Supanakha sniffed at her suspiciously. ‘What?’
‘Did you really think that Rama and his brother would come to Lanka alone? Knowing that this was the lair of the rakshasa race on the mortal realm?’
Supanakha squinted. ‘What else? He is in exile, he only has a few ragtag outlaws in his camp.’
‘Didn’t those same ragtag outlaws, led by Rama and his brother, make short shrift of your fourteen thousand tribe-brothers?’
Supanakha snarled, not liking Mandodhari’s insinuation or the reminder of all her dead cousins. ‘It took them thirteen years.
And they lost a lot of their number as well, in that last battle at Janasthana. Besides, this time they would have to come to our ground, so we would have the advantage.’ She grinned. ‘And there are many times more than fourteen thousand rakshasas in Lanka now, led by Ravana himself.’
Mandodhari shrugged. ‘That’s assuming that Rama doesn’t raise an army.’
Supanakha sneered. ‘An army?’
‘Yes. He is the crown prince of Ayodhya, after all. A king in waiting. He could have access to a huge mortal force in no time at all, could he not? One morning we may wake up and find a fleet of a thousand ships at our shores, and then who would have the advantage?’
Supanakha smiled, enjoying her power over this woman. ‘He will not go back to Ayodhya until his term of exile is ended. That is why it was so important to abduct Sita and force Rama’s hand now, before he went back to Aryavarta.’
Mandodhari raised her eyebrows. ‘Very impressive. So, assuming that he cannot raise a mortal army, he and his ragtag band of outlaws, a few dozen at best, will come to Lanka, be destroyed out of hand by Ravana and our immensely superior forces. And then what?’
‘Then I do what I will with both of them.’
‘While my husband does as he will with Rama’s wife, no doubt,’ Mandodhari said drily. ‘Yes, I see the bones of your plan. It is interesting and simple-minded enough to be workable. Although I would have expected something much more dramatic from my husband after all these millennia and so many great campaigns of warfare.’
‘And I would not wish to disappoint you.’
The words came from around them, and from nowhere. Then, like a ghost-form materialising out of s
heer mist, the ten-headed silhouette of Ravana appeared, then assumed solid physical form. Wind dervishes sprang up around him, uprooting plants and flowers, raising a small dust hurricane. He strode forward slowly, looking at each of them in turn. Supanakha slunk backwards, preparing to turn and flee, even though she knew that she could not escape Ravana’s sorcery. She was caught! She knew she should never have agreed to talk with these wretched ones.
‘Cousin,’ she gasped. ‘Master. She was the one who insisted I tell her everything. I—’
To her surprise, Ravana displayed beaming smiles across his rack of heads. ‘Do not fear, cousin. I am not angry with you. With any of you. Your curiosity is understandable. And I am here to invite you back to my chambers that I may explain the situation to you in greater detail. Despite what Supanakha thinks, she has told you nothing.’
Mandodhari eyed her husband sharply. ‘Nothing?’
For a moment, Supanakha thought Ravana would deny everything, would make her the villain of the whole piece. It would be in keeping with his new approach, using lies and wiles rather than brute force and violence.
But he surprised her completely.
‘Nothing important,’ Ravana said. ‘You still do not know the real story. That is why I have come to fetch you,’ he looked over Mandodhari’s shoulder at the partly hidden Vibhisena, ‘both of you.’ He glanced back at Supanakha. ‘You are welcome to join us as well, cousin. I have long since forgiven you for your trespass in the lady Sita’s quarters.’
‘You have?’ she asked suspiciously, hearing the uncertain croak in her voice.
Mandodhari said sharply, ‘After the way you humiliated me in the sabha hall, I have no wish to speak to you anywhere, my lord.’
‘That is why I came to you, instead of sending my minions to summon you. My dear, before you condemn me for your humiliation, remember that it was you who stormed in and attacked me before my entire assembly. Surely you could not expect me to treat you humbly and respectfully under those circumstances? I would have been the laughing stock of the kingdom. You got what you deserved.’
RAMAYANA Part 3_PRINCE AT WAR Page 14