The Immortals of Meluha
Page 52

Parvateshwar, Ayurvati, Mastrak and Dhruvini carried Sati to one of the village houses with Shiva following closely Ayurvati’s other assistants had already begun cleaning the hut and setting the instruments for the surgery.
‘Wait outside, my Lord,’ said Ayurvati to Shiva, raising her hand.
Shiva wanted to follow Ayurvati into the hut, but Parvateshwar held him back by touching his shoulder. ‘Ayurvati is one of the best doctors in the world, Shiva. Let her do her job.’
Shiva turned to look at Parvateshwar, who was doing an admirable job of controlling his emotions. But it took one look in his eyes for Shiva to know that Parvateshwar was as afraid for Sati as he was. Probably more than he had been before Sati’s agnipariksha. Suddenly a thought hit Shiva. He turned and hurried to the closest Naga body. Bending quickly, he checked the right wrist. Finding nothing there, he turned and rushed to the other Naga dead body.
Meanwhile, Parvateshwar had rallied his disturbed mind enough to realise the important tasks that needed to be done. He called Vraka and ordered, ‘Place guards over the prisoners of war. Get doctors to attend to all the injured, including the Chandravanshis.’
‘The injured Chandravanshis have already taken their poison, my Lord,’ said Vraka. ‘You know they will never want to be caught alive.’
Parvateshwar looked at Vraka with a withering look, clearly saying that he wasn’t interested in the details and Vraka should get to the task at hand.
‘Yes, my Lord,’ said Vraka, acknowledging Parvateshwar’s silent order.
‘Arrange a perimeter for any counter-attack,’ continued Parvateshwar, his consciousness already drawn back to Sati’s condition in the house behind him. ‘And...’
Vraka looked up at Parvateshwar, surprised by his Lord’s hesitation. He had never seen his Lord hesitate before. But Vraka had the good sense to not say anything. He waited for his Lord to complete his statement.
‘And...’ continued Parvateshwar. ‘There should be some courier-pigeons still alive in the temple. Send a red coloured letter to Devagiri. To the Emperor. Tell him Princess Sati is seriously injured.’
Vraka looked up in disbelief. He had no news about Sati. But wisely, he did not say anything.
‘Tell the Emperor,’ continued Parvateshwar, ‘that she has been shot by an agnibaan.’
‘O Lord Indra!’ blurted Vraka unable to control his shocked dismay.
‘Do it now, Brigadier!’ snarled Parvateshwar.
‘Yes, my Lord,’ said Vraka with a weak salute.
Shiva meanwhile had already checked the wrists of four of the Nagas. None of them wore the leather bracelet with the serpent aum that Shiva had come to recognise. He reached the last one. The one who had shot Sati. The wretched one who Shiva had hacked. Shiva kicked the Naga’s torso with intense hatred before trying to find his right arm. It took him some time to find the severed limb. Locating it, he raised the remnants of the robe to check the wrist. There was no leather bracelet. It wasn’t him.
Shiva came back to the hut to find Parvateshwar seated on a stool outside. Krittika was standing beside the hut entrance, sobbing uncontrollably. Veerbhadra was holding her gently comforting her. A distraught Nandi stood at Veerbhadra’s side, his face stunned into a blank expression. Parvateshwar looked up at Shiva and pointed to the empty stool next to him with a weak smile. He was making brave attempts to appear under control. Shiva sat down slowly and looked into the distance, waiting for Ayurvati to come out.
‘We have removed the arrow, my Lord,’ said Ayurvati.
Shiva and Parvateshwar were standing in the hut, looking at an unconscious Sati. Nobody else was allowed in. Ayurvati had clearly said that Sati did not need the risk of increased infection. And nobody dared argue with the formidable Ayurvati on medical matters. Mastrak and Dhruvini had already fanned out to support the other medical officers treating the injured Suryavanshi soldiers.
Shiva turned to the right of the bed to see the bloodied tong that had been used to stretch Sati’s innards to pull the arrow out. That tong would never be used again. It had been infected with the agnibaan poison. No amount of heat or chemicals would make the instrument sterile and safe again. Next to the tong lay the offending arrow, wrapped in neem leaves, where it would stay for one full day, before being buried deep in a dry grave to ensure it would not cause any more harm.
Shiva looked at Ayurvati, his eyes moist, unable to find the strength to ask the question that raged in his heart.
‘I will not lie to you, my Lord,’ said Ayurvati, in the detached manner that doctors will themselves into, to find the strength in traumatic circumstances. ‘It doesn’t look good. Nobody in history has survived an agnibaan which has penetrated one of the vital organs. The poison will start causing an intense fever in some time, which will result in the failing of one organ after another.’
Shiva looked down at Sati and then up pleadingly. Ayurvati fought hard to rein in her tears and keep her composure. She couldn’t afford to lose control. She had many lives to save in the next few hours.
‘I am sorry, my Lord,’ said Ayurvati. ‘But there really is no cure. We can only give some medicines to make her end easier.’
Shiva glared angrily at Ayurvati. ‘We are not giving up! Is that clear?’
Ayurvati looked at the ground, unable to meet Shiva’s eye.
‘If the fever is kept under control, then her organs will not be damaged, right?’ asked Shiva, as a glimmer of hope entered his being.
Ayurvati looked up and said, ‘Yes, my Lord. But that is not a final solution. The fever caused by an agnibaan can only be delayed, not broken. If we try and control the fever, it will come back even stronger once the medicines are stopped.’
‘Then we will control the fever forever!’ cried Shiva. ‘I will sit by her side all my life if needed. The fever will not rise.’
Ayurvati was about to say something to Shiva, but thought better of it and kept silent. She would come back to Shiva in a few hours. She knew that Sati could not be saved. It was impossible. Precious time was being wasted in this futile discussion. Time that could be used to save other lives.
‘Alright, my Lord,’ said Ayurvati, quickly administering the medicines to Sati to keep her fever down. ‘This should keep her fever down for a few hours.’
She looked up at Parvateshwar standing at the back for an instant. Parvateshwar knew that keeping the fever down would only lengthen Sati’s agony. But he too felt the glimmer of hope that Shiva felt.
Turning back towards Shiva, Ayurvati said, ‘My Lord, you too are injured. Let me dress your wounds and I’ll leave.’
‘I am alright,’ said Shiva, not taking his eyes off Sati for an instant.
‘No, you are not, my Lord,’ said Ayurvati firmly. ‘Your wounds are deep. If they catch an infection, then it could be life threatening.’
Shiva did not answer. He just kept looking at Sati and waved his hand dismissively.
‘Shiva!’ shouted Ayurvati. Shiva looked up at her. ‘You cannot help Sati if you yourself become unwell!’
The harsh tone had the desired effect. While Shiva did not move from his place, he let Ayurvati dress his wounds. Ayurvati then quickly tended to Parvateshwar’s wounds and left the hut.
Shiva looked at the prahar lamp in the hut. It had been three hours since Ayurvati had removed the arrow. Parvateshwar had left the hut to look after the other injured and make the preparations for setting up camp, since the convoy was going to stay in Koonj for some time. That was Parvateshwar’s way. If he was confronted with an ugly situation that he could do nothing about, he did not wallow in his misery. He would drown himself in his work so that he did not have to think about the crisis.