‘Higher range, my Lord?’ asked Parvateshwar, pre-empting Shiva’s words. Shiva nodded in reply.

  Meanwhile the Suryavanshi and Chandravanshi cavalries were engaged in fierce combat on the eastern and western ends of the batdefield. The Chandravanshis knew they had to break through. A few more minutes of the Suryavanshi archers’ assault and the batde would be all but lost. They fought desperately, like wounded tigers. Swords cut through flesh and bone. Spears pierced body armour. Soldiers, with limbs hanging half-severed, continued to battle away. Horses, with their riders missing, attacked as if their own kves depended on it. The Chandravanshis were throwing all their might into breaking through the line that protected the archers. But to their misfortune, they had run into the fiercest brigadiers amongst the Suryavanshis. Mayashrenik and Vidyunmali fought ferociously, holding the mammoth Chandravanshi force at bay.

  The archers meanwhile had begun their onslaught on the third legion of the Chandravanshis. Their legions were bleeding to death or deserting in great numbers. Some of them, however, grimly and courageously, held on. When their shields were not strong enough to block the arrows, they used the bodies of their dead comrades. But they held the line.

  ‘Do we stop now and charge, my Lord?’ asked Parvateshwar.

  ‘No. I want the third legion devastated as well. Let it go on for a few more minutes.’

  ‘Yes, my Lord. We should also let half the archers raise their range a bit more. We can get the weaker sections in the fourth legion as well. If their lines are also broken, confusion would rein right into the heart of their troops.’

  ‘You are right, Parvateshwar. Let’s do that.’

  Meanwhile, the Chandravanshi cavalry on the western flank, sensing the hopelessness of their charge, began to retreat. Some Arishtanemi riders moved to give chase but Vidyunmali stopped them. As the Chandravanshis retreated, Vidyunmali ordered his troops to wait at their present positions, lest the Chandravanshis launch a counter-attack. Seeing their enemy ride rapidly back to their lines, Vidyunmali ordered a withdrawal to their initial position on the flank of the bow formation.

  The Chandravanshis facing Mayashrenik, however, were made of sterner stuff. Despite taking severe casualties, they fought grimly, refusing to retreat. Mayashrenik and his men fought fiercely, holding their enemy. Suddenly, the hail of arrows stopped. The archers had been ordered to stand down. Now that their mission was accomplished without their intervention, the Chandravanshi brigadier ordered a retreat of his cavalry. Mayashrenik, in turn, withdrew his troops quickly to his earlier position to prepare for the main charge, which he knew was just a few moments away.

  ‘General, shall we?’ asked Shiva, nodding towards the left flank.

  ‘Yes, my Lord,’ replied Parvateshwar.

  As Parvateshwar turned to mount his horse, Shiva called out, ‘Parvateshwar?’

  ‘Yes, my Lord.’

  ‘Race you to the last line of the Chandravanshis!’

  Parvateshwar raised his eyebrows in surprise, smiling broadly. ‘I will win, my Lord.’

  ‘We’ll see,’ grinned Shiva, his eyes narrowed in a playful challenge.

  Parvateshwar rapidly mounted his horse and rode to his command on the left. Shiva, followed by Vraka, Nandi and Veerbhadra rode to the right. Prasanjit geared his tortoise corps in the centre for the attack.

  ‘Meluhans!’ roared Shiva, dismounting smoothly. ‘They lie in front of you! Waiting to be slaughtered! It ends today! Evil ends today!’

  ‘Har Har Mahadev!’ bellowed the soldiers as the Meluhan conch shell, announcing the Suryavanshi attack, was blown.

  With an ear-shattering yell, the infantry charged towards the Chandravanshis. The tortoise corps moved in their slow, yet unyielding pace towards the Chandravanshi centre. The sides of the bow formation moved quicker than the centre. The cavalry cantered along the flanks, protecting the infantry from an enemy charge. Courageous remnants of the third and fourth legions of the Chandravanshis meanwhile were rapidly reforming their lines to face the Suryavanshi onslaught. But the mass of dead bodies of their fallen comrades did not allow them the space needed to form their traditional Chaturanga formation, which could have allowed some lateral movement. They were huddled together in a tight but thin line before the Suryavanshis were upon them.

  The battle was going almost exactly as per plan for the Suryavanshis. By the time they reached the Chandravanshi line, they were in a tight, faintly curved line of trained and vicious soldiers, with their flanking line of light infantry being slightly behind the level of the slower moving tortoise corps at the centre. The unstoppable tortoise corps tore ruthlessly into the Chandravanshi centre. The shields provided protection for the corps against the best Chandravanshi swordsmen, while their trishuls ripped through the Swadweepans. The Chandravanshis had but two choices. Either fall to the trishul, or be pushed towards the sides where the Suryavanshis were now bearing down hard on them. As the centre of the Chandravanshi army broke under the unrelenting assault, the Suryavanshi flanks tore through their sides.

  Shiva was leading his flank ferociously into the Chandravanshis, decimating all in front of him. To his surprise, he found the enemy lines thinning. Letting his fellow soldiers charge ahead of him, he rose to his full height to observe the movements. He was shocked to see the Chandravanshi line opposing him, moving towards the centre. They were attacking the only exposed flank of the tortoise corps, their right side, which could not be protected by shields. Someone in the Chandravanshi army was using his brains. If any of the tortoises broke, the Chandravanshis would swarm through the centre in a tight line, devastating the Suryavanshis.

  ‘Meluhans!’ roared Shiva. ‘Follow me!’

  Shiva’s flag bearer raised his pennant. The soldiers followed. The Neelkanth charged into the sides of the Chandravanshi lines bearing down on the tortoises. Caught in a pincer attack between the trishuls and the charge from Shiva’s flank, the spirit of the Chandravanshis finally broke.

  What was a mighty Chandravanshi army was now reduced to independent stragglers fighting valiantly for a losing cause. Shiva and Parvateshwar led their respective sides to complete the job. The victory was absolute. The Chandravanshi army had been comprehensively routed.

  CHAPTER 24

  A Stunning Revelation

  Sati rushed out of her tent, followed by Krittika and Ayurvati.

  ‘A little slowly, Sati,’ cried Ayurvati, running to keep up. ‘In your condition…’

  Sati turned and grinned back at Ayurvati, but did not reduce her pace. She sprinted to the royal tent where she had been informed Shiva and Parvateshwar had reached after the declaration of victory. Nandi and Veerbhadra stood guard at the entrance. They moved aside to let Sati in, but barred Ayurvati and Krittika.

  ‘I am sorry, Lady Ayurvati,’ said Nandi apologetically, his head bowed. ‘I have strict instructions not to let anybody in.’

  ‘Why?’ asked a surprised Ayurvati.

  ‘I don’t know, my Lady. I am very sorry’

  ‘That’s alright,’ said Ayurvati. ‘You’re only doing your job.’

  Veerbhadra looked at Krittika. ‘I’m sorry darling.’

  ‘Please don’t call me that in public,’ whispered Krittika, embarrassed.

  Sati pulled the curtain aside and entered the tent.

  ‘I don’t know, my Lord,’ said Parvateshwar. ‘It doesn’t make sense.’

  Sati was surprised at Parvateshwar calling Shiva ‘My Lord’.

  But her joy at seeing Shiva safe brushed these thoughts aside. ‘Shiva!’

  ‘Sati?’ mumbled Shiva, turning towards her.

  Sati froze. He didn’t smile when he saw her. He didn’t have the flush of victory on his face. He hadn’t even got his wounds dressed.

  ‘What’s wrong?’ asked Sati.

  Shiva stared at her. His expression worried her deeply. She turned towards Parvateshwar. He looked at her for an instant with an obviously forced smile. The way he usually smiled when he tried to shield her from som
e bad news. ‘What is it, Pitratulya?’

  Parvateshwar looked at Shiva, who spoke at last. ‘Something about this war troubles us.’

  ‘What could trouble you?’ asked a surprised Sati. ‘You have delivered the greatest victory ever to the Suryavanshis. This defeat of the Chandravanshis is even more comprehensive than what my grandfather achieved. You should be proud!’

  ‘I didn’t see any Nagas with the Chandravanshis,’ said Shiva.

  ‘The Nagas weren’t there?’ asked Sati. ‘That doesn’t make sense.’

  ‘Yes,’ said Shiva, his eyes carrying a hint of foreboding. ‘If they are so thick with the Chandravanshis, then they would have been there in the battlefield. If they were being used by the Chandravanshis against us, then their skills would have been even more useful in the battle. But where were they?’

  ‘Maybe they’ve fallen out with each other,’ suggested Sati.

  ‘I don’t think so,’ said Parvateshwar. ‘This war was triggered by their joint attack on Mandar! Why would they not be here?’

  ‘Shiva, I am sure you’ll figure it out,’ said Sati. ‘Don’t trouble yourself.’

  ‘Dammit Sati!’ yelled Shiva. ‘I can’t figure it out! That’s why I am worried!’

  A startled Sati stepped back. His uncharacteristic vehemence stunned her. He wasn’t like this. Shiva realised what he had done. He immediately reached his bloodied hand out. ‘I’m sorry Sati. It’s just that I…’

  The conversation was interrupted as Daksha, accompanied by an aide, raised the curtain and swaggered into the room.

  ‘My Lord!’ cried Daksha as he hugged Shiva tight.

  Shiva flinched. His wounds hurt. Daksha immediately stepped back.

  ‘I’m so sorry, my Lord,’ said Daksha. Turning to his aide he continued, ‘Why is Ayurvati outside? Bring her in. Let her tend to the Lord’s wounds.’

  ‘No wait,’ said Shiva to the aide. ‘I had said I didn’t want to be disturbed. There is always time to address the wounds later.’ Shiva turned towards Daksha. ‘Your Highness, I need to speak about something…’

  ‘My Lord, if you will allow me first,’ said Daksha, as enthusiastic as a little boy who had just been given a long denied sweet. ‘I wanted to thank you for what you have done for me. For Meluha. We have done what even my father couldn’t! This is an absolute victory!’

  Shiva and Parvateshwar looked briefly at each other before Daksha garnered their attention again.

  ‘Emperor Dilipa is being brought here even as we speak,’ said Daksha.

  ‘What?’ asked Parvateshwar taken aback. ‘But we had sent some of our soldiers to their camp just a little while back. They couldn’t possibly have arrested him so soon.’

  ‘No Parvateshwar,’ said Daksha. ‘I had sent my personal guards much earlier. We could tell from the viewing platform that the Chandravanshis had already lost by the time the Lord and you began the third charge. That is the benefit of the perspective you get from a distance. I was worried that Dilipa might escape like the coward he is. So I sent off my personal guards to arrest him.’

  ‘But, your Highness,’ said Parvateshwar, ‘shouldn’t we discuss the terms of surrender before we bring him in? What are we going to offer?’

  ‘Offer?’ asked Daksha, his eyes twinkling with the euphoria of triumph. ‘Frankly, we don’t really need to offer anything considering how he was routed. He is being brought here as a common criminal. However, we will show him how kind Meluha can be. We will make him such an offer that his next seven generations will be singing our praises!’

  Before a surprised Shiva could ask what exactly Daksha had in mind, the crier of the Royal Guard announced the presence of Dilipa outside the tent. Accompanying him was his son, Crown Prince Bhagirath.

  ‘Just a minute, Kaustav,’ said Daksha, as he went into a tizzy, organising the room exactly as he would like it. He sat down on a chair placed in the centre of the room. Daksha requested Shiva to sit to his right. As Shiva sat, Sati turned to leave the tent. Shiva reached out to hold her hand. She turned, saw his need and walked behind his seat to sit down on a chair there. Parvateshwar sat to the Emperor’s left.

  Daksha then called out loudly, ‘Let him in.’

  Shiva was anxious to see the face of evil. Despite his misgivings about the absence of the Nagas, he genuinely believed he had fought a righteous war on the right side. Only seeing the defeated face of the evil king of the Chandravanshis would complete the victory.

  Dilipa walked in. Shiva straightened up in surprise. Dilipa was nothing like what he expected. He had the appearance of an old man, a sight rare in Meluha due to the Somras. Despite his age, Dilipa had a rakishly handsome bearing. He was of medium height, had dark skin and a slightly muscular build. His clothes were radically different from the sober Meluhan fare. A bright pink dhoti, gleaming violet angvastram and a profusion of gold jewellery adorning most parts of his body, combined to give him the look of a dandy. His face had the crowfeet of a life lived well. A trimmed salt and pepper beard, accompanied by thick white hair under his extravagandy coloured crown, completed the effete look while adding an intellectual air.

  ‘Where’s the Crown Prince Bhagirath?’ asked Daksha.

  ‘I have asked him to wait outside since he can be a little hotheaded,’ said Dilipa. He looked only at Daksha, refusing to acknowledge the presence of the others in the room. ‘Don’t you Meluhans have any custom of offering a seat to your guests?’

  ‘You are not a guest, Emperor Dilipa,’ said Daksha. ‘You are a prisoner.’

  ‘Yes. Yes. I know. Can’t you get a joke?’ asked Dilipa superciliously. ‘So what is it that you people want this time?’

  Daksha stared at Dilipa quizzically.

  ‘You have already stolen the Yamuna waters a hundred years back,’ continued Dilipa. ‘What else do you want?’

  Shiva turned in surprise towards Daksha.

  ‘We did not steal the Yamuna waters,’ yelled Daksha angrily.

  ‘They were ours and we took them back!’

  ‘Yes whatever,’ dismissed Dilipa with a wave of his hand.

  ‘What are your demands this time?’

  Shiva was astonished at how the conversation was going. They had just defeated this evil man. He should be repentant. But here he was, being condescending and self-righteous.

  Daksha looked at Dilipa with wide eyes and a kindly smile. ‘I don’t want to take anything. Instead, I want to give you something.’

  Dilipa raised his eyebrows warily. ‘Give us something?’

  ‘Yes, I intend to give you the benefit of our way of life.’

  Dilipa continued to stare at Daksha with suspicion.

  ‘We are going to bring you up to our superior way of life,’ continued Daksha, his eyes marvelling at his own generosity. ‘We are going to reform you.’

  Dilipa said with half a snigger, ‘Reform us?’

  ‘Yes. My general, Parvateshwar, will run your empire from now on as Viceroy of Swadweep. You will continue to be the titular head. Parvateshwar will ensure that your corrupt people are brought in line with the Meluhan way of life. We will live together as brothers now.’

  Parvateshwar turned towards Daksha, stunned. He did not expect to be despatched to Swadweep.

  Dilipa appeared to have difficulty in controlling his laughter. ‘You actually think your straight-laced men can run Swadweep? My people are mercurial. They are not going to listen to your moralising!’

  ‘Oh, they will,’ sneered Daksha. ‘They will listen to everything we say. Because you don’t know where the actual voice comes from.’

  ‘Really? Where does it come from? Do enlighten me.’

  Daksha motioned towards Shiva and said, ‘Look who sits with us.’

  Dilipa turned to Daksha’s right and asked incredulously, ‘Who’s he? What in Lord Indra’s name is so special about him?’

  Shiva squirmed, feeling increasingly uncomfortable.

  Daksha spoke a little louder. ‘Look at his throat, Oh king of t
he Chandravanshis.’

  Dilipa looked again with the same arrogance towards Shiva. Despite the dried smattering of blood and gore, the blue throat blazed. Suddenly, Dilipa’s haughty smile disappeared. He looked shocked. He tried to say something, but he was at a loss of words.

  ‘Yes, oh corrupt Chandravanshi,’ scoffed Daksha, moving his hands for dramatic effect. ‘We have the Neelkanth.’

  Dilipa’s eyes had the dazed look of a child who had just discovered that the hand that brutally knifed his back belonged to his beloved father. Shiva’s heart was disturbed with increased apprehension. This was not the way this meeting was supposed to occur.

  Daksha continued his hectoring. ‘The Neelkanth has sworn to destroy the evil Chandravanshi way of life. You HAVE to listen.’

  A bewildered Dilipa stared at Shiva for what seemed like an eternity. At long last, he recovered enough to softly whisper, ‘Whatever you say.’

  Before Daksha could bluster further, Dilipa turned and staggered towards the tent curtain. At the exit, he turned around to look at Shiva once again. Shiva swore that he could see a few tears in those proud, haughty eyes.

  As soon as Dilipa left the tent, Daksha got up and hugged Shiva, lightly, so as to not hurt the Neelkanth. ‘My Lord, did you see the look on his face. It was precious!’

  Turning towards Parvateshwar, he continued, ‘Parvateshwar, Dilipa is broken. You will have no trouble controlling the Swadweepans and bringing them around to our way of life. We will go down in history as the men who found a permanent solution to this problem!’

  Shiva wasn’t paying attention. His troubled heart desperately searched for answers. How could a struggle that appeared so righteous, just a few hours back, now suddenly appear wrong? He turned towards Sati, forlorn. She gently touched his shoulder.