“Well said.” Siddhartha exchanged a radiant smile with Bharata.
Bharata’s brown eyes turned to Sakhi. “Ma, I want to study in Taxila, too, and be just like Jivaka. Will you let me go?”
“You’re very young to go all the way to the Gandharan kingdom,” Jivaka said. “But maybe your mother will let you come when I visit the sick right here in Kapilavastu.”
“We could take you to the houses of healing,” the prince said. “I’m allowed to go that far from my prison.”
Bharata did not hear the sarcasm, which had not been directed at him. His face split into a grin of sheer joy. “When? Oh, Ma, can I go?”
“We’ll discuss it when the time comes,” Sakhi said. “In the meantime, Siddhartha, didn’t you promise Bharata a story?”
“I did indeed, the story of how King Yudhisthira brought his brothers back from the dead. Are you ready to hear it?”
Bharata nodded and sat down next to Arjuna, who sat by Sakhi and sucked his fingers as the last of his tears dried on his fat cheeks.
Siddhartha began the tale. “It was the very end of the long exile of the Pandava brothers.”
“Their names were Yudhisthira, Arjuna, and Bhima,” Bharata said, “and—”
“And Nakwa and Saheva,” Arjuna said without removing his fingers from his mouth.
“That’s right, Bhima. Nakula and Sahadeva,” Bharata finished. “Our names.”
“Just so,” Siddhartha said. “They had undertaken the task of finding the sacred bricks stolen from a holy Brahmin who needed them to build his fire altar. As they searched the forest, they became hungry and thirsty and stopped to rest in a glade. Sahadeva offered to go find water and food. He set off on an overgrown path that led him to a beautiful lake. ‘I will drink this clear water,’ he said, ‘then fill my waterskin and take it back to my brothers before I set out to hunt.’
“As he knelt to drink, a tall white crane who had been observing from a stand of reeds spoke to him. ‘Before you drink, young warrior, you must answer my questions, or the water will be as poison to you, and you will fall dead as soon as your lips touch it.’
“Sahadeva knew the dharma and followed it, like all five Pandava heroes. One must do whatever a holy one asks; that is why they were searching for the Brahmin’s stolen bricks. But nowhere in the dharma does it state that a Kshatriya must do whatever a crane asks, whether he is holy or not. So in his great thirst, Sahadeva ignored the crane and bent to quench his thirst. When his lips touched the water, he fell down dead on the shore.
“Now, when his twin brother did not return, Nakula stood up and bowed to Yudhisthira. ‘Brother,’ he said, ‘Sahadeva has always had a bad sense of direction. I will find him and return with food and drink as well.’ And so he set off, and he came upon the lake, and the crane spoke to him, saying, ‘Before you drink, young warrior, you must answer my questions or the water will be as poison to you, and you will fall dead as soon as your lips touch it.’ Nakula ignored the crane just as Sahadeva had, and suffered the same fate as soon as his lips touched the water.”
Bharata peered into the basket and gave the sleeping twins a worried look. “You must always follow the dharma, my brothers,” he said in a grave tone. A cold premonition touched Sakhi.
“When Nakula did not return,” Siddhartha continued, “Bhima jumped up. ‘Where are those young pups? We should have kept them on their leashes,’ he said.”
Little Bhima, who had been chewing on his wooden soldier and paying not the slightest attention to the story, looked up when he heard his name. “Bee-ma?”
“Not you!” Arjuna said. “You’re a baby. That Bhima was big. And strong. Wasn’t he?”
“Baby?” Bhima said, pointing at the basket where the twins slept in dappled sunlight.
“Babies.” Sakhi smiled and pushed her premonitions away.
“He was very strong. I’ll bet our little Bhima will be just as strong one day. But to get back to our tale… ‘I’ll go find them, and I’ll kill a deer for our supper,’ the Pandava prince told Yudhisthira and Arjuna. ‘Best gather some firewood, my brothers.’ Well, Bharata, you can guess what happened to him.”
“He didn’t listen to the crane, and he fell down dead, too!” Bharata said. He had forgotten his concern for his baby brothers, and his eyes danced with eagerness to get to his favorite part, where the crane asks Yudhisthira the questions. “And then Arjuna had to go, and he fell down dead, too, and then Yudhisthira—”
“Bharata,” Sakhi said. “Let Prince Siddhartha tell the tale.”
“Well, you are exactly right,” Siddhartha said. “Arjuna suffered the same fate as Sahadeva, Nakula, and Bhima. When he didn’t return, Yudhisthira set off in great trepidation, fearing that some demon haunted the forest and would keep them from their appointed task, and from returning to their kingdom when their exile ended. When he came upon the lake, his thirst burned in his throat. He wanted to throw himself into the cool, inviting waters, but when he rushed to the shore, he saw his brothers’ corpses and a crane standing in the reeds.
“Weeping, Yudhisthira put his hands together and bowed. ‘Namaste, O guardian of this beautiful lake,’ he said. ‘These are my four brothers dead on the shore. Can you tell me what demon has attacked and killed them? I must avenge their deaths.’
“The crane looked at him. ‘No demon, O best of the Pandavas, but their own failure to follow the dharma has killed each one of them.’
“Yudhisthira knelt before the crane. . ‘How do you know who I am?’
“The crane eyed him. ‘I am a wise sage who has taken the form of this crane. I know many things, and I knew your brothers were the Pandava princes when each came to this shore. I told each one of them that before they could drink, they must answer my questions or die when their lips touched water. None gave me the courtesy of a reply.’
“Yudhisthira bowed to the ground. ‘They were forgetful of duty and courtesy, but surely you know that they have lived good lives and performed many, many services for holy hermits and rishis that dwell in the Land of the Roseapple Tree. It seems a great injustice that they are punished so harshly, when they were near to perishing of thirst.’
“The crane fixed Yudhisthira with a yellow eye. ‘But you, the son of the god Yama, the Lord of Judgment, you refrained from drinking and addressed me with humility and respect. You have shown the restraint and courtesy that is a king’s dharma. If you will answer my questions, I will not only permit you to drink unharmed, but I will restore your impatient brothers to life.’
“Yudhisthira bowed again. ‘It shall be as you command, O crane.’”
Bharata had knelt when Siddhartha came to the part where King Yudhisthira knelt before the crane. “I will answer your questions,” he said, taking up the king’s part.
Siddhartha took the role of the crane. “Who is the best friend the gods can give a man?”
Sakhi held her breath.
“A good wife,” Bharata answered, holding himself very erect and speaking the familiar words with the confidence of a boy much older than six.
“What is as precious as the earth?”
“A mother.” Bharata gave Sakhi a quick smile.
“What is higher than heaven?”
“A father.” As Bharata answered the question, Siddhartha gave Sakhi an ironic smile. Everyone said things seemed better between him and his father these days, but to her it seemed everyone was wrong.
“What is quicker than the wind?”
“Thought,” Bharata exclaimed. “Now may I drink, wise crane?”
“Not so fast, O king.” Siddhartha wagged a finger. “I’m not finished with you. What is the most valuable possession?”
“Knowledge.”
“What is grief?”
Bharata paused. “Um. Ignorance?”
Siddhartha nodded.
“But I don’t know
why,” Bharata said. “What does it mean?”
“That when one knows the true nature of things, one need not suffer.”
“Oh.” Bharata nodded, but then his brow wrinkled again. “What is the true nature of things?”
Siddhartha laughed. “A good question. Maybe you will discover the answer, and then you can tell me.”
“I don’t understand lots of things.”
“Well, that’s the beginning of wisdom right there. Now, King Yudhisthira, you must stop asking questions and answer the crane.” They smiled at each other, and Siddhartha continued. “What brings the world into being?”
“Desire,” Sakhi’s little king called in response. Sakhi met Jivaka’s hungry eyes and quickly looked away.
“What is madness?”
“When you choose a lost and forgotten path.”
“Why do men revolt against the bonds that enslave them?”
Bharata wrinkled his forehead. “To—to find… ”
“To find freedom, in death or in life,” Siddhartha whispered loudly, putting a hand to his mouth.
“To find freedom in… in… even if you die finding it.”
Siddhartha nodded and continued. “What makes wealth when you cast it off?”
“Greed.”
“Who is the most difficult enemy to overcome?”
“The anger that’s inside you.”
“What is honesty?”
“To know you are the same as everything—animals, trees, everything.”
“How may peace be false?”
“When… ” Bharata frowned, then his face lit up. “When it’s from fear.”
“That’s right. When tyranny imposes it. What is the greatest wonder of the world, noble Yudhisthira?”
“Each day, death strikes down those around us, yet each of us thinks we will never die.” The words flowed from Bharata with surprising ease. All of a sudden Sakhi’s cold premonition returned. This child was too young to know what he was saying. Then Arjuna gave a low snore. Bhima giggled. Bharata looked angrily at them, but when he caught Sakhi’s eye his face softened. “They don’t understand, do they, Ma?”
Did he? Sakhi wondered. “They’re so young, darling.”
“Last question, Yudhisthira. What is true wealth?”
“Happiness that comes from following the dharma,” Bharata said in a gentle voice.
“The crane took its true form.” Siddhartha leaned toward Bharata, raising a finger. “Do you know who it was?”
“Yama Dharmaraja!”
“That’s right. The ruler of the dead and Lord of Judgment. ‘You have passed the test, my son,’ the god who was Yudisthira’s true father said. No sooner had he spoken than the princes Arjuna, Bhima, Sahadeva, and Nakula sprang to life.”
Dimi burst from the passageway just as Siddhartha finished.
“Mistress Sakhi! The army is in sight of the city gates!”
“But that can’t be,” she said. “I thought not until tomorrow… ” Her thoughts turned to Dhara. With her injury, it must have been a difficult journey.
Siddhartha jumped to his feet. “So fast. I’ll see Dhara!”
“It’s all over the market, my lord,” Dimi said. “The guards sighted King Suddhodana’s white elephant from the watchtower at the city gates. All the merchants are closing their stalls and Kapilavastu is lining the king’s way to welcome them. I had to fight the crowd to get back.”
The messenger had come not two days before with news of the victory at Kalamas. The Sakyan forces and Angulimala’s outlaw army had routed Prince Virudha’s battalions. The Kosalas suffered large losses, but Sakyan casualties were relatively few.
Most shocking to Sakhi was word of Angulimala’s appearance at the battle. She wondered how it had been for Dhara, seeing her former guru. Maybe Angulimala would come to Kapilavastu when the army returned, and Sakhi could thank her again for her act of mercy to Tilo. She had a suspicion, though, that since the yogi had resumed her outlaw life, she would not want to be reminded of her days as a seeker of truth.
Siddhartha looked at Bharata. “I must go to the gates and greet my father. Would you like to come along?”
Bharata’s eyes went wide.
“Me, too!” Arjuna said. “Me, too.”
“Certainly not!” Sakhi said. “It will be a mob down there.”
“The crowd will make way for me. Besides, my bodyguard is the size of a small regiment. They should be able to keep the boys safe.”
Sakhi laughed. Every time he visited with his retinue of armed men, they joked that Bhallika’s mansion was under siege.
Bhima began to cry, and Sakhi called for Mitu, who emerged from the shadowed passageway to the kitchen and took him in her arms. “What’s wrong, little one?” she said.
“Wanna go!” Bhima wailed.
“Of course you’re going,” Siddhartha said.
Sakhi was taken aback. “I should say not.”
“I’ll take Mitu,” Siddhartha said. “Then will you let Bhima come along?”
“But—” she began.
“Have your servants fetch your litter. Mitu can ride in it with Arjuna and Bhima. Bharata can ride in front of me on Kanthaka.”
A great hubbub followed as Siddhartha gave orders for several of the foot soldiers to carry the litter. The boys’ excited shrieks wafted back into the courtyard. The captain’s commands echoed against the walls. Soon the shrieks faded, along with the jingle of harnesses and the soldier’s shouts. The wet nurse called for Dimi, who looked miffed at having to stay behind. Together they carried the basket with the sleeping twins into the inner rooms.
Sakhi had assumed that Jivaka would go with the prince, but he remained seated. The remnants of guava and yogurt bowls were between them. They waited in silence for some time, glancing now and then at each other. When it seemed certain that Dimi must have forgotten the trays and fallen asleep in the kitchen, and the wet nurse was taking her nap with the twins, and the other servants must have abandoned the mansion to greet the returning army, Jivaka came to Sakhi’s side.
He laced his fingers in hers. They studied their entwined hands. Then he raised them to his lips and kissed them.
A hero’s welcome
The physicians said it was a clean break, easy to set, but that made it no less painful. Dhara took the poppy juice they offered and slept for a whole day.
When she woke the morning of the second day, a physician was already standing at her bedside. He offered more poppy juice, but she didn’t take it. Nalaka was right; a single dose of any sort of drug or intoxicant clouded the mind for days. She felt logy and stupid.
The physicians ordered her not to move. She didn’t want to; even the slightest shift jarred her arm. But it was difficult. She tried to still her mind and body, do some of Nalaka’s breathing exercises to lessen the pain. He clearly had never broken a bone.
Her jumbled thoughts wandered back to the battle. Her part in it was too short, but she could be proud of the way she’d led her troop in that first charge—except that she’d killed an enemy for the first time and was full of remorse, even shame. As soon as she was able, she would go to Bhela and request cleansing rites.
She felt estranged from Nalaka and Siddhartha. She set barriers to their minds. She didn’t want them to see the bloodlust that enabled her to take another’s life. Only those who had taken life would understand that it was better to kill than be killed. To defend a just cause was dharma.
Angulimala would understand. Dhara had heard that the outlaw queen and her forces had joined the battle. Dhara swung back and forth between a desperate need to see her and revulsion for the creature she had become.
The tent flap rose. For an instant, Dhara thought it might be Angulimala.
But no, it was only Satya who entered. He knelt by the couch, still shining with victory.
The besotted young warrior’s babbling grated on her nerves. She would have sent him away, but he was at least a distraction.
“And the banquet—why, the Kalamas rewarded us well. There were hundreds of gorgeous women—”
“And the outlaws?” She burst out. “Angulimala? What did she do during all this feasting?”
“Why, Angulimala left right after the battle,” he said. “The king looked none too pleased, I can tell you!”
This time, Dhara did not interrupt while he gossipped about the sparks that flew when the king’s aura met Angulimala’s.
If an enemy soldier had opened Dhara’s guts with a sword, it couldn’t hurt more than this. Angulimala had left without a word, without a sign, as if Dhara were not even present at the battle. Did she know? She must have.
Satya chattered on, while the sword kept twisting, twisting, inside Dhara.
General Sukesa came to her tent the third morning. “There’s a litter prepared for you, Princess.”
“No, I’ll take Swift.” To ride; that would help her forget that Angulimala had ignored her. She had just learned that Chandaka would accompany the army back to Kapilavastu while his troop took their Gandharan horses to back to King Bimbisara. It humiliated her that Chandaka’s first sight of her after all these years was sprawled face down after falling from her horse. She would show him she could ride like a warrior.
Sukesa crossed his arms over his protruding belly. “How do you plan to mount and dismount? What if he decides to take a little gallop?”
She frowned and shifted her arm, then stifled a groan. She saw spots dancing before her eyes. Ha. She might well faint and fall off Swift’s back again. More humiliation.
The Mountain Goddess Page 37