The Secret of the Nagas
Page 37

‘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 lived 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.’