The Oath of the Vayuputras
Page 72

‘Still alive? What do you mean?’
‘She was badly injured, Shiva. She personally led the cavalry against the rampaging elephants and Meluha’s own horsemen. Nandi and Veerbhadra managed to pull her to safety. She was unconscious by the time she reached the ship. Unfortunately, the man I talked to didn’t have any further information.’
Shiva made his decision immediately. He knew that his naval formation would only be able to sail as quickly as the slowest ship. He couldn’t wait that long.
‘Ganesh, I’m taking the fastest ship and sailing down south. I have to find your mother’s ship. Kali, Kartik and you will remain with the fleet. Avoid all battles, sail as quickly as you can and meet me at Mrittikavati.’
Ganesh and Kartik stood mute, sick with worry about their mother.
‘She’s alive,’ said Shiva, holding his sons’ shoulders. ‘I know she’s alive. She cannot die without me.’
Shiva’s ship had raced down the Saraswati and caught up with Sati’s retreating fleet. He had clambered aboard his wife’s ship to discover that his Sati was out of danger now, but still bed-ridden. However, this relief was accompanied by some terrible news received from a Vasudev pandit. Reports of the devastation of Sati’s army in Devagiri had given the Meluhan prisoners of war in Mrittikavati the courage to challenge their citizen captors. They had broken out of their prison and taken control of the city. Three thousand citizens, loyal to the Neelkanth, had died in the process. Shiva had no choice but to avoid Mrittikavati for now, as it was no longer safe for his army. He decided to sail down another distributary of the Saraswati and then retreat to Lothal. Orders had been conveyed through a Vasudev pandit to Ganesh’s army as well.
For the moment though, Shiva remained on Sati’s ship as it sailed down the Saraswati. Having checked on the naval movements with the captain, Shiva descended to Sati’s cabin.
Ayurvati sat by her bedside, applying soothing herbs on Sati’s burnt face. Quickly and efficiently, she tied a bandage of neem leaves. ‘This will ensure that your wound doesn’t get infected.’
Sati nodded politely. ‘Thank you, Ayurvatiji.’
‘Also,’ continued Ayurvati, thinking Sati may be concerned about the ugly mark which covered nearly a quarter of her face, ‘don’t worry about the scar. Whenever you are ready, I will perform a cosmetic surgery to smoothen out your skin.’
Sati nodded, her lips pursed tight.
Ayurvati looked at Shiva and then back at Sati. ‘Take care, my child.’
‘Thank you once again, Ayurvatiji,’ said Sati, unable to smile due to the scar tissue forming on her face.
Ayurvati quickly walked out of the cabin. Shiva went down on his knees and held her hand.
‘I’m sorry, Shiva. I failed you.’
‘Please stop saying that again and again,’ said Shiva. ‘I’ve been told about the way our elephants reacted to the burning chilli; it’s a miracle that you managed to save as many of our people as you did.’
‘You are just being kind because I’m your wife. We have lost our elephant corps and most of our cavalry. This is a disaster.’
‘Why are you so hard on yourself? What happened at Devagiri was not your fault. We’d lost our elephant corps the moment the Meluhans discovered that the smoke from burning chillies sends them into a state of panic.’
‘But I should have withdrawn earlier.’
‘You withdrew as soon as you saw the effect on the elephants. You had no choice but to go in with the cavalry, otherwise our soldiers would have got massacred. Practically our entire army is still intact. You did a great job to ensure that we didn’t suffer even higher casualties.’
Sati looked away unhappily, still feeling terribly guilty.
Shiva touched her forehead gently. ‘Sweetheart, listen to me...’
‘Leave me alone for a while, Shiva.’
‘Sati...’
‘Shiva, please... please leave me alone.’
Shiva kissed Sati gently. ‘It’s not your fault. There are usually enough tragedies in life that we are genuinely responsible for. Feel guilty about them, for sure. But there is no point in burdening your heart with guilt over events that are not your fault.’
Sati turned to Shiva with a tortured expression. ‘And what about you, Shiva? Do you really think a six-year-old child could have done anything to save that woman at Kailash?’
It was Shiva’s turn to be silent.
‘The honest answer is, no,’ said Sati. ‘And yet you carry that guilt, don’t you? Why? Because you expected more from yourself.’
Shiva’s eyes welled up with the agony of that childhood memory. There wasn’t a day in his life when he didn’t silently apologise to that woman he hadn’t been able to save; the woman he hadn’t even tried to save.
‘I expected more from myself as well,’ said Sati, her eyes moist.
They empathised with each other in a silent embrace.
Shiva and Sati’s convoy of ships had just reached the last navigable point on this distributary of the Saraswati. From here on, the river was too shallow for the ships. Even farther, the Saraswati ran dry on land itself, unable to push through to the sea.
Shiva had avoided the distributary which led to Mrittikavati. He was on the southern-most part of the inland mouth of the Saraswati. From here on, his army would march to the frontier stronghold of Lothal. Leaving the empty ships behind was fraught with risk. It was only a matter of time before the Meluhans would get to know about it. Shiva would, in effect, be handing over twenty-five well-fitted military ships back to the Meluhans, which would allow them to move their army up and down the Saraswati with frightening speed. The decision was obvious. The ships had to be destroyed.
Once his entire army had disembarked and the caravan that would march on to Lothal had been readied, Shiva gave orders for the ships to be burned. Fortunately there had been a break in the rains which had arrived early this year, allowing the fire to consume the ships quickly.
Shiva stood observing the massive flames. He didn’t hear Gopal and Chenardhwaj as they stepped up to him.
‘Lord Agni consumes things rapidly,’ said Gopal.
Shiva looked at Gopal before turning back to the burning ships. ‘We have no choice, Panditji.’
‘No, we don’t.’
‘What do you suggest we do, Panditji?’ asked Shiva.
‘The rainy season is here,’ said Gopal. ‘It will be difficult to mount a campaign to attack Devagiri any time soon. Even if we could, without the advantage of our cavalry it is unlikely that we will be able to conquer a well-designed citadel like Devagiri.’
‘But it will be difficult for them to attack us in Lothal as well,’ said Shiva. ‘Lothal, in fact, is better designed for defence than even Devagiri.’
‘True,’ said Gopal. ‘So it is a stalemate. Which suits the Meluhans just fine since all they will have to do is wait for the Ayodhyan forces to reach Meluha. They could be here in as little as six months.’
Silently, Shiva gazed at the burning ships, contemplating this unhappy turn of events.
Chenardhwaj spoke up. ‘I have a suggestion, My Lord.’
Shiva turned to Chenardhwaj with a frown.
‘We can draw up a crack force of Nagas and my troops,’ said Chenardhwaj. ‘The commandos will attack the Somras factory stealthily. It will be a suicide mission, but we will destroy it.’