The Secret of the Nagas

by Amish Tripathi

  Shiva did not have an answer.

  Divodas spoke up. ‘But, Your Highness, I think that the Nagas have cast this spell on us. The plague is their creation. Fight it we must. But to battle it properly, we have to attack the source. Panchavati, the city of the Nagas.’

  ‘Divodas, even if I agree with you, we cannot forget that what keeps us alive is their medicine. Until the plague is stopped we cannot survive without the Nagas.’

  ‘But they are your enemies, Your Highness,’ said Bhagirath. ‘How can you not seek vengeance for the plague they have wrought upon you?’

  ‘I’m fighting everyday to keep my people alive, Prince Bhagirath. Vengeance is a luxury I cannot afford.’

  ‘It’s not about vengeance. It is about justice,’ said Parvateshwar.

  ‘No General,’ said Chandraketu. ‘It is not about vengeance or justice. It is only about one thing: Keeping my people alive. I am not a fool. I do know that if I give you the route to Panchavati, the Lord will attack it with a massive army. The Nagas will be destroyed. Along with them, their medicine too, thus demolishing the only means to Branga’s survival. Unless you can guarantee me another supply source, I cannot tell you where Panchavati lies.’

  Shiva stared hard at Chandraketu. Though he didn’t like what he was hearing, he knew what the Branga King said was right. He had no choice.

  Chandraketu folded his hands together, as though pleading, ‘My Lord, you are my leader, my God, my saviour. I believe in your legend. I know you will set everything right. However, while my people may forget the details, I remember the tales of Lord Rudra. I remember that legends take time to fulfil their promise. And time is the only thing my people don’t have.’

  Shiva sighed. ‘You are right, Your Highness. I cannot guarantee supply of the medicines right now. And until I can, I have no right to demand this sacrifice of you.’

  Divodas started to say something, but Shiva silenced him with a wave.

  ‘I will take your leave, Your Highness,’ said Shiva. ‘I need to think.’

  Chandraketu fell at Shiva’s feet. ‘Please don’t be angry with me, My Lord. I have no choice.’

  Shiva pulled Chandraketu up to his feet. ‘I know.’

  As Shiva turned to leave, his eyes fell upon the Naga Queen’s letter. He stiffened as he saw the seal at the bottom. It was an Aum symbol. But not the standard one. At the meeting point of the top and bottom curve of the Aum were two serpent heads. The third curve, surging out to the East, ended in a sharp serpent head, with its fork tongue struck out threateningly.

  Shiva growled softly, ‘Is this the Naga Queen’s seal?’

  ‘Yes, My Lord,’ said Chandraketu.

  ‘Can any Naga man use this seal?’

  ‘No, My Lord. Only the Queen can use it.’

  ‘Tell me the truth. Does any man use this seal?’

  ‘No, My Lord. Nobody.’

  ‘That is not true, Your Highness.’

  ‘My Lord from what I know...’ Suddenly Chandraketu stopped. ‘Of course, the Lord of the People also uses this seal. He is the only one in the history of the Nagas, besides the ruler, who has been allowed to do so.’

  Shiva snarled. ‘The Lord of the People? What is his name?’

  ‘I don’t know, My Lord.’

  Shiva narrowed his eyes.

  ‘I swear on my people, My Lord,’ said Chandraketu. ‘I don’t know. All I know is that his formal title is the Lord of the People.’

  ‘My Lord,’ said Bhagirath. ‘We have to insist with King Chandraketu.’

  Bhagirath, Parvateshwar and Divodas were sitting in Shiva’s private chambers in the Brangaridai palace.

  ‘I agree, My Lord,’ said Divodas.

  ‘No,’ said Shiva. ‘Chandraketu has a point. We have to guarantee the supply of the Naga medicine before we attack Panchavati.’

  ‘But that is impossible, My Lord,’ said Parvateshwar. ‘Only the Nagas have the medicine. The only way we can get the medicine is if we control the Naga territories. And how can we attack and control the Naga territories if the Branga king does not tell us where Panchavati is?’

  Shiva turned to Divodas. ‘There must be another way to get the Naga medicine.’

  ‘There is a very bizarre one, My Lord,’ said Divodas.

  ‘What?’

  ‘But it’s the worst possible way, My Lord.’

  ‘Let me be the judge of that. What is the way?’

  ‘There is a bandit in the forests beyond the Madhumati river.’

  ‘Madhumati?’

  ‘Also a distributary of the Branga, My Lord. To our West.’

  ‘I see.’

  ‘It is rumoured that this bandit knows how to make the Naga medicine. Apparently, he does it with the help of a secret plant he sources from beyond the Mahanadi river, which lies to the South–west.’

  ‘So why doesn’t this bandit sell it? After all a bandit should be interested in money.’

  ‘He is a strange bandit, My Lord. It is rumoured that he was born a Brahmin, but has long given up the path of knowledge for violence. Most of us believe he has serious psychological problems. He refuses to make money. He has a pathological hatred for Kshatriyas and kills any warrior who ventures into his territory, even if the poor Kshatriya had just lost his way. And, he refuses to share the Naga medicine with anyone, even for untold amounts of gold, using it only for his gang of criminals.’

  Shiva frowned. ‘How bizarre.’

  ‘He is a monster, My Lord. Even worse than the Nagas. It is rumoured that he even beheaded his own mother.’

  ‘My God!’

  ‘Yes, My Lord. How do you reason with a madman like that?’

  ‘Is there any other way to get to the Naga medicine?’

  ‘I don’t think so.’

  ‘Then our choice is made. We must capture that bandit.’

  ‘What is the name of this bandit, Divodas?’ asked Bhagirath.

  ‘Parshuram.’

  ‘Parshuram!’ cried Parvateshwar in shock. ‘That is the name of the sixth Lord Vishnu who lived thousands of years ago.’

  ‘I know, General,’ said Divodas. ‘But trust me. This bandit does not have any of the qualities of the great sixth Lord Vishnu.’

  Chapter 13

  Man-eaters of Icchawar

  ‘Maharishi Bhrigu! Here?’ asked a surprised Dilipa.

  All the nobles in India knew that Bhrigu was the raj guru, the royal sage of Meluha and strongly backed the Suryavanshi royalty. His sudden appearance in Ayodhya, therefore, had Dilipa bewildered. But it was also a rare honour, for Bhrigu had never ever visited Dilipa’s capital before.

  ‘Yes, My Lord,’ said the Swadweepan Prime Minister, Siamantak.

  Dilipa immediately rushed to the chambers Siamantak had housed the great sage in. Bhrigu’s room, as expected, had been kept cold, severe and damp, just like his Himalayan abode.

  Dilipa immediately fell at Bhrigu’s feet. ‘My Lord Bhrigu, in my city, my palace. What an honour!’

  Bhrigu smiled, speaking softly, ‘The honour is mine, great Emperor. You are the light of India.’

  Dilipa raised his eyebrows, even more surprised. ‘What can I do for you, Guruji?’

  Bhrigu stared hard at Dilipa. ‘I personally need nothing, Your Highness. Everything in the world is maya, an illusion. The ultimate truth one has to realise is that we actually need nothing. Because to possess an illusion is as good as possessing nothing.’

  Dilipa smiled, not quite understanding what Bhrigu said, but too terrified of disagreeing with the powerful Brahmin.

  ‘How is your health now?’ asked Bhrigu.

  Dilipa wiped his lips with a damp cotton cloth, absorbing the medicine his royal doctor had applied on it. The Emperor of Swadweep had coughed some blood the previous morning. His doctors had told him that he had but a few months to live. ‘Nothing is a secret from you, My Lord.’

  Bhrigu nodded, not saying anything.

  Dilipa smiled bravely. ‘I have no regrets, My Lord. I have live
d a full life. I am content.’

  ‘True. How is your son, by the way?’

  Dilipa narrowed his eyes. There was no point in lying. This was Maharishi Bhrigu, considered by many to be a Saptrishi Uttradhikari, a successor to the seven sages. ‘Looks like he will not have to kill me. Fate will do his work for him. Anyway, who can fight destiny?’

  Bhrigu bent forward. ‘Fate controls only the weak, Your Highness. The strong mould the providence they want.’

  Dilipa frowned. ‘What are you saying, Guruji?’

  ‘How long would you like to live?’

  ‘Is it in my hands?’

  ‘No. In mine.’

  Dilipa laughed softly. ‘The Somras will have no impact, My Lord. I have smuggled in large amounts from Meluha. I have found out the hard way that it cannot cure diseases.’

  ‘The Somras was the greatest invention of the Saptrishis, Your Highness. But it wasn’t the only one.’

  ‘You mean to say that...’

  ‘Yes.’

  Dilipa edged back. Breathing quicker. ‘And, in return?’

  ‘Just remember your debt.’

  ‘If you give me this blessing, Guruji, I will be forever indebted to you.’

  ‘Not to me,’ said Bhrigu. ‘Remain indebted to India. And, I shall remind you when the time comes for you to serve your country.’

  Dilipa nodded.

  A few days later, a single ship bearing Shiva, Bhagirath, Parvateshwar, Anandmayi, Divodas, Drapaku, Purvaka, Nandi and Veerbhadra set off up the Padma. With them were around five hundred men, half the brigade that had set off from Kashi. Only the Suryavanshis. Shiva needed disciplined warriors to take on the fearsome bandit and his gang. He suspected that too large an army might hinder his attempt at drawing the brigand out. Four vessels and the five hundred Chandravanshis had been left behind to savour Brangaridai hospitality.

  Of course, Ayurvati was also on the ship. Her medical skills were certainly needed, especially since Divodas had warned of a bloody confrontation.

  After a few days of sailing, the ship reached the part of the Branga river where the Madhumati broke off. They swept down the Madhumati, the western-most edge of the Branga country and its most sparsely populated areas. The land became more wild, with dense forests on both banks.

  ‘A perfect place for a bandit,’ said Shiva.

  ‘Yes, My Lord,’ nodded Drapaku. ‘This land is close enough to civilisation to mount raids. And yet, dense and impenetrable enough to hide quickly. I can imagine why the Brangas have had trouble arresting this man.’

  ‘We need him alive, Drapaku. We need the conduit to the Naga medicine.’

  ‘I know, My Lord. General Parvateshwar has already issued those instructions to us.’

  Shiva nodded. The dolphins were dancing upon the waters. Birds chirped in the dense sundari trees. A large tiger lounged lazily along one bank. It was a picturesque scene of natural bounty, every animal enjoying the gifts of the Brahmaputra and Ganga.

  ‘It is a beautiful land, My Lord,’ said Drapaku.

  Shiva didn’t answer. He continued to stare hard at the banks.

  ‘My Lord,’ said Drapaku. ‘Did you see something?’

  ‘We’re being watched. I can feel it. We’re being watched.’

  Ever since her trespass into the Eastern palace, Sati’s relationship with Athithigva had deepened considerably, almost to a filial level. Shared secrets have a way of creating bonds. Sati had remained true to her word, not whispering to a soul about Maya. Not even to Krittika.

  Athithigva routinely sought Sati’s advice on matters of state, however inconsequential. Sati’s counsel was always wise, bringing some order and control to the Chandravanshi penchant for unbridled freedom and chaos.

  The problem this time around, however, was a knotty one.

  ‘How can just three lions cause so much chaos?’ asked Sati.

  Athithigva had just told her about the most recent plea for help from the villagers of Icchawar. They had been living under a mortal threat of man-eating lions for many months. Representations had been coming to Kashi for a long time. Kashi had in turn requested Ayodhya, as the overlord of Swadweep, to come to its aid. Chandravanshi bureaucrats had so far been arguing over the terms of the Ashwamedh treaty; the main stalemate being on how the vow of protection made by Ayodhya did not cover animal attacks. Kashi, of course, had no warrior of note to lead them against even a few lions.

  ‘What do we do, My Lady?’

  ‘But you had sent a platoon of Kashi police a month back, right?’

  ‘Yes, My Lady,’ said Athithigva. ‘They tried their best, having devised a brilliant plan to trap the lions, using the villagers to create commotion with their drums in order to drive the lions to a well-covered ditch with giant spikes in it. But to their surprise, most of the lions seemed to have escaped and attacked a school where the village children had been huddled for safe-keeping.’

  Sati suppressed a gasp of shock.

  Athithigva, with tears in his eyes, whispered, ‘Five children were killed.’

  ‘Lord Ram be merciful,’ whispered Sati.

  ‘The beasts didn’t even drag the children’s bodies away. Maybe they wanted vengeance for the single lion killed when he fell into the trap.’

  ‘They are not humans, Your Highness,’ said Sati, irritated. ‘They do not feel anger or the need for vengeance. Animals kill for only two reasons: hunger or self-defence.’

  But why would they kill and then leave the bodies there?

  ‘Is there more to this than meets the eye?’ asked Sati.

  ‘I don’t know, My Lady. I’m not sure.’

  ‘Where are your men?’

  ‘They are still in Icchawar. But the villagers are preventing them from mounting any more traps. They are saying that their own lives are in greater danger when the lions are lured. They want my police to venture into the jungle and hunt the lions down.’

  ‘Which they don’t want to do?’

  ‘It’s not that they don’t want to, My Lady. They don’t know how to. They’re citizens of Kashi. We don’t hunt.’

  Sati sighed.

  ‘But they are willing to fight,’ said Athithigva.

  ‘I’ll go,’ said Sati.

  ‘Of course not, My Lady,’ said Athithigva. ‘That’s not what I wanted from you. I only wanted you to send word to Emperor Dilipa for help. He cannot refuse you.’

  ‘That would take forever, Your Highness. I know how the Swadweepan bureaucracy works. And your people will keep dying. I’ll go. Assign two platoons of the Kashi police to travel with me.’

  Sixty soldiers, forty travelling with me and another twenty already in Icchawar. That should do.

  Athithigva did not want Sati to venture into the forest. He had come to love her as his sister. ‘My Lady, I can’t bear to see anything...’

  ‘Nothing will happen to me,’ interrupted Sati. ‘Now assign two Kashi platoons. Sixty men ought to be enough against two lions. I want the joint platoon led by that man who helped General Parvateshwar protect the Brangas. His name was Kaavas, right?’

  Athithigva nodded. ‘My Lady, please don’t think I’m unsure about your abilities... But you are like a sister to me. I cannot allow you to put yourself in danger like this. I don’t think you should go.’

  ‘And I think I must go. Innocents are being killed. Lord Ram would not allow me to stay here. Either I can leave Kashi alone, or with forty soldiers. Which option would you prefer?’

  The ship was sailing slowly along the Madhumati. There had been no attack from Parshuram. No devil boats to set Shiva’s ship on fire. No arrows to injure the lookouts. Nothing.

  Parvateshwar and Anandmayi were standing against the balustrade at the stern of the ship, staring at the reflection of the sun rising gently in the sluggish Madhumati.

  ‘The Lord is right,’ said Parvateshwar. ‘They are watching us. I can feel it. It irritates me.’

  ‘Really?’ smiled Anandmayi. ‘I have had people staring at me all my
life. It’s never irritated me!’

  Parvateshwar turned to Anandmayi as if trying to explain his point. Then, as he understood the pun, he smiled.

  ‘By Lord Indra!’ exclaimed Anandmayi. ‘I got you to smile! What an achievement!’

  Parvateshwar smiled even more broadly. ‘Yes, well, I was only talking about why the bandits were not attacking...’

  ‘Now don’t spoil the moment,’ said Anandmayi. She slapped Parvateshwar’s wrist with the back of her hand. ‘You know you look very nice when you smile. You should do so more often.’

  Parvateshwar blushed.

  ‘And you look even better when you blush,’ laughed Anandmayi.

  Parvateshwar blushed even deeper. ‘Your Highness...’

  ‘Anandmayi.’

  ‘Sorry?’

  ‘Call me Anandmayi.’

  ‘How can I?’

  ‘Very simple. Just say Anandmayi.’

  Parvateshwar kept quiet.

  ‘Why can’t you call me Anandmayi?’

  ‘I can’t, Your Highness. It is not correct.’

  Anandmayi sighed. ‘Tell me Parvateshwar. Who exactly defines what is correct?’

  Parvateshwar frowned. ‘Lord Ram’s laws.’

  ‘And, what was Lord Ram’s fundamental law on punishment for a crime?’

  ‘Not even one innocent man should be punished. Not even one criminal must get away.’

  ‘Then you are breaking his laws.’

  Parvateshwar frowned. ‘How so?’

  ‘By punishing an innocent person for a crime she didn’t commit.’

  Parvateshwar continued to frown.

  ‘Many noblemen committed a crime by breaking Lord Ram’s law two hundred and fifty years ago. They got away with the crime. Nobody punished them. And, look at me. I had nothing to do with that crime. I wasn’t even born then. And yet, you are punishing me today for it.’

  ‘I am not punishing you, Your Highness. How can I?’

  ‘Yes, you are. You know you are. I know how you feel. I am not blind. Don’t pretend to be deliberately stupid. It’s insulting.’

  ‘Your Highness...’

  ‘What would Lord Ram have told you to do?’ interrupted Anandmayi.