He sought out Sita, seeking her as if she might be a barely visible flash of moonlight, a glimpse of gold hidden in the dust, an arrow-wound obscured by seeping blood, a fragment of cloud torn to shreds by the wind …
The evening drew on, night fell, the lights of the city blazed with their tantalising rainbow-tinted hues, and the oyster of Lanka opened fully to his potent senses, as he searched on relentlessly, resisting a thousand temptations, passing over countless distractions, overcoming a hundred unwanted thoughts and desires and urges inspired by the things he saw heard and done.
By the time the moon was fully risen over the city, a luminous pearl floating over the oyster from which it had escaped, he had searched all of the conceivable places within the city without finding any trace of Sita. Traversing the wall to circumscribe the mountain, he had used his empowered senses to scan virtually every possible place where Sita might have been imprisoned. His choices were not infinite: Ravana would hardly have kept her upon an open terrace or even in any of the numerous mansions or buildings. She would almost certainly be under heavy guard, a prisoner. And not just a prisoner in a city gaol; she would be imprisoned close to where Ravana himself resided and ruled. Which left only his royal palace. But which of those magnificent mansions was the palace? He saw many important-looking structures, each vying with the rest for claim to being the city’s most luxurious, most elegant showcase of wealth and prosperity and power. Yet none was significantly larger than the rest. Back in Kiskindha, the king’s tree-palace was several times as large as any of the others. He expected it to be much the same. He had scoured all the palaces and mansions and estates of Lanka, which left only one likely spot.
His gaze rose to the towering white structure that dominated and dwarfed the rest of the city. The tower tapered gradually as it rose. In the cloudless night, the moonlight reflected off the length of the tower for as far up as he could see—and he could see a hundred miles high, or farther, if he so desired. He could not estimate exactly how tall the peak was, indeed, each time he tried to follow its length with his eyes, his gaze seemed to slip. It was like counting the rings on the stump of a very ancient redwood tree. As you got closer to the centre, the rings were so tightly banded, if you lost your concentration for even a fraction of a moment, you had to start all over. Except that here, he was not losing concentration; it was as if the tower itself were changing height. But how could that be? He reminded himself that this was Lanka. And that phenomenon was itself proof that the white tower was undoubtedly the personal domain of Ravana. The more he examined it and probed it and tried to look within its milky opalescence, the more it resisted his scrutiny. He could not sense any distinctive smell from it, nor hear a single sound from within its moon-white walls. Most oddly, there seemed to be no one coming or going, nor any sign of an ingress. Not so much as a doorway or a window along its entire miles-long length, let alone a gateway and ramp. If it was a palace, it was the strangest he had ever heard of. Yet he had nowhere else left to look. Unlikely as it seemed, he must explore the possibility that Sita might be within that edifice. Since he could not scout it out from here, he must enter the city and breach the tower. The hour was already late.
He was about to reduce himself to the size of a gnat, after debating that subterfuge was the most effective disguise until he located his goal, when the apparition appeared.
SIX
At first he thought her to be a mist blowing from the direction of the sea. Then, as the cloud of mist approached closer, it coalesced to a more solid form. Taking the shape of a mortal woman in flowing robes. Yet she was no mortal, that was evident. She floated upon the air itself, as high as the top of the wall on which he crouched. Ethereal and angelic, she had an aura of celestial beauty that enraptured him at first sight. A devi, perhaps. At the very least, a gandharva or apsara descended from the heavenly realms.
He was on his guard at once, had in fact never lowered his guard since entering Lanka. But as he probed her with his empowered senses, he was surpised to find that she bore a scent of something quite the opposite of violence or aggression: affection perhaps? Attraction, even? He thought that unlikely. But as he sniffed once more to confirm his doubt, he thought that the scent she exuded faintly was surely closer to desire than danger. In any case, one thing was certain—she meant him no harm.
She spoke. And he received another not-unpleasant shock.
He felt her voice rather than heard it. It was not like the mindspeech of Jambavan. The timbre of her voice did not reach his ears at all, nor did it sound within the chamber of his thought-cage; instead it rippled across the ether separating them, like invisible waves of vibration that washed across his person, and entered delicately through the pores of his skin, making even the tiniest hair on the back of his hands and neck quiver, flowing across the entire expanse of his mostly bare body. It was a voice that found and penetrated into the most secret, unguarded places within his person, soothing, reassuring … arousing.
~~Who is this who dares to transgress my borders uninvited? Identify yourself, intruder.~~
He had to struggle to regain a semblance of control. Her ‘speaking’ had disarmed and disoriented him. Exerting his will, he joined his palms together in a respectful greeting. It felt the proper thing to do. ‘My lady, I am Hanuman, servant to Lord Rama of Ayodhya, presently in exile. May I know your good name?’
~~I am Lanka,~~ she said, as if that cryptic announcement was identification enough. ~~What is it you seek here? Why do you creep across my ramparts thus under cover of darkness? And before that, why did you fly across the ocean and tunnel your way through my caverns like an iron worm? From your surreptitious actions and unfamiliar visage, I fear you mean my denizens no good.~~
‘When you say you are Lanka, do you mean that you are … ’ he hesitated, ‘ … the spirit of this land? The governing spirit of Lanka itself?’
~~What else would I mean?~~ she said with a flicker of impatience. She gestured imperiously at the island at large. ~~This is my home, my body, my flesh and blood. I take great pride in myself and in the welfare of my denizens. It is no different from the maternal care that Prithvi Maa herself lavishes upon the denizens of the mortal realm. You have violated the sanctity of my care by stealing into this land. Speak! What is your purpose in coming here?~~
‘My lady, I will not lie to you. You say you are to the island of Lanka as Mother Nature is to the earth itself. I believe and respect you. As I said before, I serve Lord Rama. His virtuous wife Sita, who is a paragon of dharma, has been kidnapped and carried here by the rakshasa lord Ravana. I have come to seek her out and rescue her.’
~~You?~~ She looked him up and down with amazement. ~~A mere vanar?~~
He did not take offence. She could hardly be expected to know him. ‘I am armed with the weapons of faith, my lady. My lord Rama is no ordinary mortal. If he entrusted me with this important task, I must have some qualities that bear consideration.’
She floated a little higher, above the wall on which he crouched. He turned his head to follow her. She floated above and behind him, circumscribing three quarters of a circle, then descended slowly to land on the top of the wall, as gently as a feather touching the ground on a windless day. He was enchanted by her grace and her manner. Clearly accustomed to giving orders, she bore an air of great nobility and elegance. She was commanding without being dominating or superior.
Her voice wafted more gently across him as she spoke again. It thrilled the pores of his skin, like a soft perfumed summer breeze carried across a blossoming grove.
~~Indeed you must,~~ she said quietly. ~~For you have come thus far already. It is a long way from the mainland to my shores. And I witnessed the ease with which you broke your way through my subterranean bedrock. No doubt, you are no ordinary vanar.~~
A strange ripple of pleasure passed through him at her reluctant but honest praise. ‘I apologise if I have caused injury or insult to you, my lady. Such was not my intention. I seek only to find my mistress
Sita and carry her home.’
She examined him silently, her face limned by moonlight. He thought he had rarely seen such a beautiful visage in his life. Even after scanning lakhs of stunningly beautiful rakshasis this past hour, she possessed an ethereal allure that affected him strangely, deeply. ~~You believe it will be that simple? Just find her and you can take her away, back to your lord Rama? Do you expect no resistance from the king of rakshasas?~~
He hesitated.
She caught his self-doubt and smiled wistfully. ~~I see you are uncertain of my loyalties. You assume that since I care for the land of Lanka, that I must be allied with the lord of this land. That assumption would be ill-founded.~~
His heart pounded suddenly. ‘My lady, you said yourself that you care for the denizens of Lanka.’
~~Whomever they might be, young vanar. It is not given to the land to choose its occupants. I merely provide and care for them. As long as I am cared for as well in return, it matters little whether they are rakshasas, other asura, mortals, devas … or vanars even.~~
He gestured at the gardens to his right and the city to his left, without taking his eyes off her. ‘You are wise to be so open-minded. For I see that your land is very well cared for. Truth be told, my lady, I have not seen such beauty in my entire life. Never did I imagine that Lanka would be such a beauteous and spellbinding spot on earth. Yet now that I am here, I cannot deny the evidence of my own senses.’
She beamed with pleasure. ~~It pleases me that you appreciate my beauty. Yes, Ravana and his people have cared well for me. And I have reciprocated by supporting their efforts. If they plant a garden, I see to it that it flourishes rapidly and stays in bloom a long while.~~ A shadow passed across her face. ~~Yet it was not always thus. Only a short time ago, a scant decade or so by mortal counting … ~~ She shook her head. ~~But let us not speak of things that were and are no more. You are here for a purpose, serving your lord Rama, you say. And you wonder if I am allied with his enemy, Lord Ravana. Have I understood you correctly thus far?~~
‘Perfectly.’ He adored the way the moonlight fell upon her cheekbones and the nape of her neck. And her tall graceful movements were a wonder to behold.
~~Then let me set your mind at rest. I house Lord Ravana and his legions. As long as he cares for me, I care for him. The land and her people are ever intertwined. Yet tomorrow, if Ravana abuses my love and trust, I will respond in kind as well. Just as a field when overworked becomes fallow and infertile and requires a season of rest, so also a land must be allowed time to recover. Ravana respects me because he fears me. I hold the key to the secret of his immortality.~~
‘You—?’ His eyes opened wide at this news. ‘My lady, but that means you possess power over his life and—’
She raised a hand, cutting him off in mid-sentence. ~~I say this not to offer you the means to his destruction, young vanar. For that would be dishonest and unfaithful on my part. The knowledge I possess is for me alone, it is not to be shared. I say this only to impress upon you that the lord of Lanka and I have an inviolable understanding. He does not violate my domain, and I stay loyal to him. Anything you say to me will not reach his ears. Why else do you think I stand here alone before you? Had I been allied with Ravana, a thousand rakshasas would already have apprehended you by now.~~
He did not try to argue the point. ‘I understand, my lady. You are independent of Ravana’s influence. I see that now. You asked me if I expect no resistance from Ravana’s forces. Indeed, I expect nothing but resistance. If there is anything I do not expect, it is mercy. If discovered and apprehended, he will surely seek nothing less than my death by the most painful means. But those are not things that concern me overmuch. I am fixed only upon my single purpose: to find out and retrieve my lost mistress. May I assume that since we are allies now, you will not hinder me in my quest?’
She arched her eyebrows. Again, like all her other gestures and actions, he found this greatly pleasing to watch. ~~You leap too far, vanar. How did we progress from a simple question to becoming allies?~~
He shrugged. ‘You said you are not allied with Ravana … ’
~~Yet it does not follow that I should therefore be allied with his enemy Rama.~~
‘Mayhap. But Rama’s is the just cause. He was wrongfully exiled and persecuted, in large part because of Ravana’s machinations. By abducting the lady Sita and bringing her here, he has transgressed the most inviolate laws of dharma. I do not ask you to aid me in any way. I am confident I will find the lady Sita on my own. When you interrupted me moments earlier, I was about to change my form and enter the city to seek her out. I ask only that you permit me to proceed without obstruction.’
She gave him a peculiar searching look. ~~If you are willing to confront the power of Ravana himself, why do you fear the obstruction of a single island-spirit? Perhaps you think you can outwit me as you did the sea serpent Sarasa, or the mountain Mainika?~~
He was impressed at her knowledge. And noted the tart tone that accompanied this comment—she was a little offended at his assumption that she could be so easily subdued, but she was also unsure of the full extent of his powers. ‘Perhaps I could, my lady. But I do not wish to. Because you are not my enemy, nor have you done anything that gives me reason to attack or offend you,’ he said seriously. ‘If you seek to obstruct me, then I have no choice but to battle you. But if possible, I would rather have you as a friend and ally.’
She smiled a slow smile that lit fires within his heart. ~~I have no cause to obstruct you, young vanar. Nor to do battle with you. If anything, I would like to accompany you secretly and see how you go about this bold and adventurous mission. Never before have I known any spy to infiltrate the heart of Ravana’s kingdom and steal out something the lord of rakshasas possesses. I would see how you attempt to accomplish this ambitious task.~~
He hesitated only a fraction of a second before nodding. ‘So be it, my lady. I assume that you possess the power to change your bhes-bhav?’
She smiled and held out her hand. It melted away to become a waterfall of mercury, flowing down into the night.
He nodded. ‘I expected no less. Let us change into less obtrusive forms and enter the city, then. Time is of the essence and I must not fail in my mission.’
She reformed her hand, returning it to the semblance of a mortal hand, perfect and smooth as the surface of newly set butter. ~~Come, then. Let me see how a mere vanar, unarmed and alone, fares in the land of rakshasas.’ She held the hand out to him ~~Let us go to the city, my new friend.~~
He thrilled at the feeling of her pronouncement of his name, and of those three simple words. My new friend. He had only just met her and already he wished he could be more than just her friend.
SEVEN
After a brief conference, the lady Lanka suggested they would be least obtrusive if they were clad and shaped as rich rakshasa nobility. Since there were many disparate races among the rakshasa species, Hanuman chose one that was least unnerving to mortal eyes, to reduce the shock caused to the lady Sita when he finally found her. It was a moment’s work to fly to the city’s outermost limits, where the marg from the wall became a cobbled avenue. Moments later, a male rakshasa and a female rakshasi clad in rich shimmering robes strode up that same avenue. The rakshasa was a tall, well-built specimen, with stippled skin a sickly milk-white in colour, eyes as blue as the summer sky on a cloudless day, and hair as yellow as ripe corn. She was similarly built, but with lighter eyes, almost greyish-blue, and hair so dark it bordered on reddish. Catching sight of their reflections on a polished gold pillar proclaiming the name of the avenue in some indecipherable rakshasa script, he thought they made the ugliest creatures imaginable. But they were far less unappealing than the variety of other rakshasa forms in Lanka and so he put aside his distaste.
If nothing else, they seemed to make a handsome couple, fitting well into their surroundings, as several pairs and trios of eyes turned their way as they passed. More than one look was overtly inviting. This was
the land of hedonistic pleasure, after all. The lady Lanka insisted on taking his arm as they walked, holding it so close to herself that he could feel her breathe. But he did not protest, wanting to give no sign that he was not a Lankan.
She whispered continually into his ear as they walked through the city, pointing out people and places and explaining this or that. He gleaned a great deal of useful information, and as he grew absorbed in his task, he began to relax and found himself enjoying even the musky rakshasi perfume that she had assumed as part of her disguise, and the gentle tones of her voice. She used normal speech to avoid being observed, and while he knew she was speaking a rakshasi tongue—a dialect appropriate to the race they had disguised themselves as—she had enabled him to understand every word. He understood the many dialects spoken around him as well, and began to store much useful information and knowledge of the kingdom of rakshasas to report back to Rama. But after long precious moments had passed and he could still discern no clue as to where Sita might be, he began to grow restless. She sensed his impatience and paused before a tavern-like place into and out of which a constant stream of rakshasas came and went, each opening of the door releasing a fresh torrent of drunken laughter and raucous rakshasa music and sounds of dancing and carousing and brawling. Not to mention the stench of soma, honey wine, and several other kinds of inebriating drinks that he had no knowledge of. She informed him that it was a ‘pleasure-house’, a place where rakshasas frolicked in warm baths and relaxed their inhibitions. She attempted to coax him into going in with her, to partake of some of the ‘pleasures of Lanka’. He was shocked to find himself actually taking a step or two in the direction of the tavern. When he stopped, resisting her insistent tugging, she grew briefly petulant. She attempted to cajole and coax him so desperately that a small uneasy alarum began sounding within his mind’s space.
RAMAYANA Part 3_PRINCE AT WAR Page 32