Rama noted that the tide was coming in and that the tidemark was several yards further up the sharply sloping beach. Once it was in fully, there would barely be room left to stand here on this narrow strip of a beach. He issued orders to speed up the crossing, then turned to look at the land upon which they had arrived.
Enormous blackstone cliffs rose in sheer, daunting lines above the narrow strip of beach. They ran in either direction as far as his eyes could see.
He turned to look at Vibhisena, who stood beside him and Lakshman. The vanar and bear generals were seeing to the disembarkment of the troops, but King Sugreeva came up to join them in their conference at Rama’s request. Jambavan was still on the bridge making sure that there were no laggards and that the troops did not panic once the sun went down, which would be in a short while.
‘These are the cliffs you named Palisades?’ Rama asked Vibhisena.
‘Indeed they are, Rama. They are so named for they are great natural walls of defence guarding Lanka from intruders upon this coast.’ He added slowly, ‘Although there have never been intruders upon this or any other coast of Lanka before.’
Rama indicated the narrow beach, running to either side of the cliffs. ‘How far inland could we travel along the beach?’
Vibhisena’s forehead creased with thought. ‘Perhaps less than a mile either way. But that would be at low tide,’ he glanced around, ‘which is now. After the tide rises, it would engulf most of this sandy strip.’
It was as Rama had feared. He exchanged a glance with Lakshman, who understood the problem without needing it spelled out. ‘We need to get as many of our troops as possible off this beach before the tide turns,’ Lakshman said. ‘As it is, there’s barely room to accommodate a few tens of thousands here, and even they would have to be packed together like too many teeth in a small mouth.’
Everybody glanced around. The disembarkment was proceeding at a brisk pace now, vanars and bears leaping off the last greyback into the shallows by the scores, raising a great ruckus in their excitement. Already, this portion of the beach was growing over-crowded. Several of the new arrivals were stopping once they reached the dry sand, looking around in bemusement at the dreaded place they had feared so long in their dreams and tales. Several vanars and bears milled around Rama and his cohorts, looking dazed and disoriented now that the long-desired crossing was finally over. Someone jostled Vibhisena accidentally.
Rama wasted no time. ‘Lakshman, tell the chiefs to send the troops up the beach on either side, to make room for new arrivals. Fan out as far as possible. Keep runners ready to carry messages and keep the lines of communication working efficiently.’
Lakshman was already off and issuing the orders even before the words were out of Rama’s mouth. He passed on the instructions to Prince Angad, who had disembarked a moment earlier and was standing in knee deep water, shouting orders to the rank and file. Angad listened briefly to Lakshman’s orders, nodded once briskly, then began shouting new commands to the chiefs who were arriving. Lakshman rejoined Rama and the others up the beach.
‘There is no other way around the Palisades, then?’ asked Rama.
Vibhisena shook his head slowly. ‘That is why all quays and docks on Lanka are built further south.’ He frowned, looking at the line of greybacks stretching back to the horizon in the fading sunlight. ‘Perhaps if your bridge could be extended around the periphery of the island … A few miles upland and there are many good landing points where you can have direct access to the inland routes.’ He sucked in a breath. ‘Of course, my brother’s forces would certainly be guarding those points, but nevertheless … ’
Rama looked at Hanuman who was waiting just behind him for his instructions. ‘My friend, you understand the language of the greybacks. Would you inquire of them if they could do as our rakshasa friend suggests?’
Hanuman shook his head regretfully. ‘Rama, they have already told me they have risked much to bring us so close to land. You see, there are sharp reefs below the water here, and they are already injuring themselves holding the line until our forces disembark. To go further upland along the coast would mean certain injury, even death to many of their numbers. Even so, they would not hesitate to sacrifice their lives, but there is another problem. Every available greyback in this part of the world has been conscripted to form the bridge to Lanka. There are none to spare to extend it further upland.’
Lakshman looked at Hanuman thoughtfully. ‘What if we have the greybacks at the mainland end of the line come up here and form the extension? Surely our people have come far enough up the bridge to leave a few score greybacks free at the other end?’
Hanuman cocked his head, listening to the greybacks lowing mournfully in the fading light. ‘They have discussed that option as well, my lord Lakshman. The time required for those greybacks to swim all the way here and then re-form into a new line might not suit our purpose. It would take until morning at least. And even then, they say it would be treacherous going, for the tides are fierce this close to Lanka, and are particularly bad at this time of year. The greybacks forming such an extension to the bridge would have to move constantly to keep themselves from being thrown against the reefs.’ He paused, listening to the greybacks before going on. ‘The risk would be great to us as well. Were even a single greyback to be pushed out of line by a riptide or undercurrent, it would cause scores of our troops to drown.’ He listened awhile more before shaking his head decisively. ‘They have sent a scout to investigate and she answers saying that the tides are too savage to enable such an undertaking. It would be suicidal to risk it. Perhaps a few weeks hence, when the summer tides turn once more … ’ He dismissed the rest with a shrug of his powerful shoulders. ‘Nay, my lords. It cannot be done that way. The greybacks have done as much as they can to aid us. We must find some other means of getting our troops inland.’
Rama was silent for a long moment, thinking. The cacophony from around them continued as clan chiefs yelled and bellowed at their troops to form lines and march post-haste up the beach. Several platoons went sprinting across the sandy strip, disappearing out of sight around the curve of the cliffs. Rama followed them, keeping his gaze fixed on the cliffs, then raising it to the top of the Palisades.
He sighed and pointed with his chin. ‘Then that is the only way.’
Lakshman nodded. ‘We shall have to send them up the cliffs.’
King Sugreeva sucked in his breath. ‘It will not be an easy ascent. There is no sign of any shrubbery to cling to. Vanars are accustomed to climbing steep hills if they have something to clutch at, but these are sheer stone cliffs, moistened by the spray of the ocean.’ He licked his thick vanar lips. ‘Everything on this coast is already liberally coated with the moisture and salt we taste on our faces. It will make the ascent very treacherous.’
Rama nodded. ‘You are right, my friend, but we have no other choice. If we go around by the beach, then when the tide comes up, we shall be stranded on those sharp wet rocks until the tide goes out again.’ He pointed to the craggy black monstrosities that clung to the bottom of the cliffs like teeth at the base of a gaping black maw. ‘And there are too many of us to be accommodated that way.’ He gestured back at the lines upon lines of vanars and bears now streaming onto the shore. ‘We can hardly expect the bulk of our forces to wait on the greybacks, either. It will be hard enough to keep their footing out there once darkness falls. Nay. We must climb the cliffs, difficult though it may be. And we must start doing so now, before too many of us are ashore. Lakshman, call Angad.’
Lakshman put his fingers to his mouth and issued a sharp, piercing whistle. He called out a single word, ‘Angadiya!’ A messenger vanar waiting nearby issued a shrill cheeka in response and scampered to call the prince who was only a few dozen yards away.
Prince Angad came up, breathless from shouting commands at the troops and their chiefs. ‘We are making good progress, my lord Rama. By the middle watch of the night we should have all our troops ashore.’
/> ‘Very good, Prince,’ Rama said. ‘But now we have another great challenge facing us.’
‘Angad, my son,’ Sugreeva said with his customary sorrowful expression. ‘It appears we shall have to climb these stone walls.’
Angad looked up sharply at the cliffs. ‘Those?’
‘Yes, those,’ said Lakshman laconically. ‘Can your vanars do it?’
Angad looked at Lakshman, then at Rama, then at the scores of troops splashing into the shallows and up the beach. ‘My vanars? Surely. But can your bears do it?’
Lakshman folded his arms across his chest and looked questioningly at Rama. ‘A good point. Can the bears climb those cliffs?’
Rama thought about it briefly. ‘There’s only one way to find out.’
***
Supanakha peered cautiously out of the narrow mouth of the cave, high on the face of the cliff overlooking the northern shore of Lanka. She looked out at a sight every bit as amazing as she had expected. At first, it appeared much like the sorcerous image projected on the wall of Ravana’s chambers.
A great line of immense grey sea beasts extended from the shore of Lanka out to the farthest horizon … all the way to the mainland. The living bridge of floating sea beasts was covered with tens of thousands of vanars and bears, all marching—nay, running really—with the efficient brisk pace of a military juggernaut on the move. From her point of view, some three hundred feet above the ground, it was a formidable sight. Line upon line of furry vanars and burly bears scampered, sprinted, jogged, and ran, bellowing, shouting, cheekaing, grunting, chuffing, and otherwise venting their enthusiasm as they made their way across the ocean. And here, at the shore of Lanka, they were leaping off the end of the last sea beast, splashing through the shallow water—vanars splashing!—and making their way up the narrow strip of sandy beach, from where they were dispatched in neat squads up the beach, disappearing out of her narrow range of vision. It took her a moment to understand that they were being directed away to make space for their fellows who were arriving after them. She wondered how they intended to get inland though: there was no ingress to be had further up the beach. The entire north coast of Lanka was lined by these Palisade cliffs. She knew that from bitter personal experience; it was not that long ago that she too had made the same ocean crossing to reach Lanka. And she had had no bridge of sea beasts to keep her dry.
She marvelled at Rama’s ability to command such an extraordinary army, as well as his ingenuity in conceiving of such a means to cross the ocean. How had he accomplished such a task? Did he know the lord of the sea beasts, then? She would have to ask Ravana how Rama had done it—or then again, perhaps it would be best not to ask. Despite his apparent good humour when addressing his clan chiefs earlier, she could not fathom how Ravana could find this latest accomplishment of Rama’s amusing. She watched as the lines of bears and vanars continued to arrive, a seemingly endless parade of eager soldiers ready to fight for Rama and his cause, filling up the narrow beach until it seemed there would be no more room to stand. The sun was almost down now, and she wondered how they would cope with the darkness. It was astonishing enough to see vanars crossing the vast body of water, let alone organising themselves into such an efficient army. She did not think they posed any threat to Lanka’s rakshasa hordes—although those bears looked fairly threatening, especially the large darker-pelted ones that were arriving now, grunting and bellowing loudly—but there were so many of them! How large was Rama’s army anyway? A million? Two million? More? It was hard to tell for sure, with the bulk of them still spread across the ocean along that long line of sea beasts, but there were certainly enough to mount a formidable invasion. Perhaps this would be a war worth the fighting after all, then. She flicked her tail in glee.
She was looking for Rama himself, searching for his familiar form amongst the furry crowds below when she happened upon a small cluster of creatures standing right below on the beach, pointing up the cliff, in her very direction. She cringed, thinking they had spotted her, and prepared to retreat hastily into the cavern. But then she realised that they were pointing at the cliffs, not at her. They had not even spotted the cave’s mouth. In this slanting evening light, they were unlikely to spot it unless they climbed within a few yards’ reach of it. She had been lucky to spot it herself when she had landed on the same shore, months earlier.
She looked closely at the group pointing at the cliffs, and with a frisson of sensual pleasure, she recognised Rama’s beautiful visage among them. Ah. Her prince. He had grown leaner, more rugged and craggy than when she had seen him last in person, at the battle of Janasthana. His body, never given to softness, had grown harder, more sharply defined, like a sculpture chiselled minutely to the very limit of the artist’s abilities. Surely no further improvement was possible now. He was a beautiful, lithe, savagely muscled fighting machine. Her Rama. The mortal she still longed to possess with every fibre of her being.
She sighed softly, feeling the warmth of her own breath upon her front paws. It was futile to dwell thus on past desires, lost lusts. But she could not help the feelings that the very sight of Rama evoked in her. It was all she could do not to clamber down the cliffside and bound up to him, to embrace him in her limbs, feeling his hard, masculine strength against her furry pelt, entwine herself around his torso and—
Rama was coming towards the cliff.
She snapped herself out of her daydream and watched as the mortal for whom she had lusted so long and so hopelessly came to the foot of the very cliff upon which she was standing, concealed, and, with a last brief word to his companions, began climbing the sheer rock face.
TWO
‘My lord.’
Rama paused at the sound of Hanuman’s voice. Standing at the foot of the cliff, looking up in preparation before starting his climb, he glanced around. The vanar was walking towards him up the sandy slope of the upper beach. ‘Yes, my friend?’
‘My lord, there is an easier and speedier way to breach these cliffs.’
Rama turned to face him fully. ‘How?’
Hanuman bent low, prostrated himself, and touched Rama’s feet. ‘With your ashirwaad, my lord.’
‘You always have my blessings, Hanuman. Rise and show me this solution you propose.’
Hanuman regained his feet, inhaled a deep breath, then began to expand himself. As with the earlier times, it was no less amazing a sight to behold. The vanar’s body appeared to magnify rapidly, growing evenly and proportionately. In seconds, he was the height of a tall tree, then a hundred feet. He stepped aside to avoid inconveniencing Rama and the others on the beach as his feet grew to the size of large boulders. He continued to grow until very shortly he was as tall as the cliff itself—and then even taller.
When he was half as tall again as the top of the cliff, he paused, ceasing to grow, and moved forward very carefully, taking great pains not to touch any of his comrades or masters on the beach far below. Bending over the cliff, he placed his hands firmly on the edge, taking a hold of it, then pressed down hard. The muscles in his shoulders and back and arms began to bulge and stand out in clear relief, each corded group individually distinguishable. Rama saw that this immense strain was not due to any great expenditure of effort on his part; rather, it was due to his desire not to cause any sudden avalanches which would endanger those below. The crowds thronging the beach raised a great roar of excitement as Hanuman began to work the edge of the cliff. They grew silent in awe as they watched the gigantic vanar strain and sweat, using his powerful hands to mould the very rock of which the cliff was composed. The troops still on the bridge began calling out from the ocean, for Hanuman must have been visible from miles away. Then they grew silent too as the sounds of rocks cracking and bursting travelled on the balmy evening breeze that was blowing from the south-west. Rama could see the dust of shattered rocks rise in a small cloud, but Hanuman’s immense body obscured most of what he was doing. He saw the vanar’s right knee rise as he placed it against the cliff, the way a man
might press his knee upon a mattress or a load to keep it in place. The vanar’s powerful back muscles tensed and bulged as he worked his will upon the Palisade cliffs. Glancing to one side, Rama saw the rakshasa Vibhisena staring open-mouthed at the sight. Even the others, familiar by now with their vanar compatriot’s magical ability, watched in awe.
After several moments, Hanuman issued a great sigh of satisfaction and moved aside, allowing them a clearer view of the cliff face. Or what had been the cliff face only moments ago. Now, where a sheer wall of black rock had risen to obstruct their way, a sloping passage had been formed, rising from the beach at a steep but perfectly negotiable gradient, no less than a rough ramp leading to the top.
As the massed soldiers took in the implications of what their fellow vanar had wrought with his bare hands and brute strength, a great roar of approval rose up from their combined throats. Rama joined in with his own voice, raising his hands and cheering Hanuman’s achievement.
Hanuman bowed low before his lord, reaching out to touch Rama’s feet. His enormous fingers embedded themselves a full yard deep into the sand at Rama’s feet, creating a veritable pit. Rama had to step back to keep his balance. The tips of the fingers that sought out his feet were each the size of an oak trunk. He touched the fingers with his own hands, feeling the way an ant must feel when faced with an elephant. ‘Bless you always, my soul-friend. Once again, you earn your own shakti through the greatness of your karma.’
RAMAYANA Part 3_PRINCE AT WAR Page 57