The Oath of the Vayuputras

  ‘Then that is the decision of Meluha.’

  ‘But the people have already read this...’

  ‘I want you to put up a notice stating that this proclamation is fraudulent. It cannot have been made by the true Neelkanth, for he would never go against the greatest invention of Lord Brahma, the Somras.’

  ‘But is that true, Your Highness?’

  Daksha’s eyes narrowed, his temper barely in check. ‘Kanakhala, just do what I tell you to do. Or I will appoint someone else as prime minister.’

  Kanakhala brought her hands together in a formal but icy Namaste, and turned to leave. She couldn’t resist a final parting shot, though. ‘What if there are other notices like this?’

  Daksha looked up. ‘Send bird couriers across the empire. If they see such a notice anywhere, it must be pulled down and replaced with what I have asked you to put up instead. This notice is bogus, do you understand?’

  ‘Yes, Your Highness,’ said Kanakhala.

  As she closed the door behind her, Daksha angrily flung the tablet on the floor. ‘Mine is the only practical way to stop this. Maharishi Bhrigu has to listen to me.’

  Chapter 20

  The Fire Song

  Gopal was shown into Shiva’s private chamber the moment he arrived. He joined Shiva and Sati in the balcony and seated himself in an empty chair beside them.

  ‘What news do you have, Panditji?’ asked Shiva.

  It had been a week since Shiva’s proclamation banning the Somras had been released simultaneously across Meluha and Swadweep. He was hoping that the people would follow his edict.

  ‘My pandits across the country have sent in their reports.’

  ‘And?’

  ‘The reactions in Meluha are very different from those in Swadweep.’

  ‘I expected that.’

  ‘It appears that the Swadweepan public has embraced the proclamation. It feeds into their bias against Meluha. It is seen as yet another instance of the Meluhans unfairly conspiring to stay ahead of the rest. And remember, none of them use the Somras anyway. So it’s no real sacrifice for them.’

  ‘But how have the kings reacted?’ asked Sati. ‘They are the ones in control of the armies.’

  ‘It’s too early to say, Satiji,’ said Gopal. ‘But I do know that all the kings across Swadweep are in intense consultations with their advisors even as we speak.’

  ‘But,’ said Shiva, ‘the Meluhans have rejected my proclamation, haven’t they?’

  Gopal took a deep breath. ‘It’s not so simple. My pandits tell me that the Meluhan public seemed genuinely disturbed by your proclamation initially. There were serious discussions in city squares and a lot of them believed that they needed to follow their Neelkanth’s words.’

  ‘Then what happened?’

  ‘The Meluhan state is supremely efficient, my friend. The notices were taken down within the first three days, at least in all the major cities. They were replaced by a Meluhan royal order stating that they had been put up by a fraud Neelkanth.’

  ‘And the people believed it?’

  ‘The Meluhans have learnt to trust their government completely over many generations, Shiva,’ said Sati. ‘They will always believe everything that their government tells them.’

  ‘Also,’ said Gopal, ‘you have been missing from Meluha for many years, my friend. There are some who are genuinely beginning to wonder if the Neelkanth has forgotten Meluha.’

  Shiva shook his head. ‘It looks like a war is inevitable.’

  ‘Daksha, and more importantly Lord Bhrigu, will ensure that,’ said Gopal. ‘But at least our message has reached most Meluhans. Hopefully some of them will start asking questions.’

  Shiva looked at the ships of the Brangas, Vasudevs and the Nagas anchored on the Ganga. ‘We set sail in two days.’

  ‘No, no!’ Shiva shook his head in dismay. ‘You’ve got it all wrong!’

  Light and shadows from the bonfire danced on the faces of Brahaspati, Veerbhadra, Nandi and Parshuram as they looked at Shiva, suitably chastened. It was a moonless night and a cold wind swept in from the river. The Ganga’s waters shimmered in the reflected light of the torches from the Branga fleet.

  In keeping with ancient tradition, the Gunas sang paeans to the five holy elements ahead of major war campaigns, to invoke their protection and as a mark of manhood in the face of danger. The friends of the great Guna, Shiva, had gathered to honour this custom. For they would set sail at the crack of dawn tomorrow.

  Shiva passed his chillum to Parshuram and decided to teach his friends the fine art of singing.

  ‘The real trick is in here,’ said Shiva, pointing towards his diaphragm.

  ‘I thought it was in here,’ said Veerbhadra playfully, pointing to his throat.

  Shiva shook his head. ‘Bhadra! The vocal chords are basically a wind instrument. Your skill depends on the control over your breath, which means, essentially, the lungs. And lungs can be regulated through the diaphragm. Try to sing from here and you will find that you can project and modulate your voice with much greater ease.’

  Nandi sang a note and then asked, ‘Am I doing it right, My Lord?’

  ‘Yes,’ said Shiva, looking at Nandi’s immense stomach. ‘If you can feel the pressure of your diaphragm on your stomach, then you’re doing it right. The other thing is to know when to take a breath. If you time it right, you will not have to struggle towards the end of the line. And if you don’t struggle, then you will be able to finish your tune without having to rush through the last few notes at the end.’

  Brahaspati, Parshuram and Nandi listened with rapt attention.

  Veerbhadra however, was sarcastically nodding, his eyes mirthful. He didn’t much care for tuneful singing. ‘Shiva, you’re taking it too seriously! It’s the thought that counts. So long as I sing it with my heart, I don’t think anybody should object even if I murder the song!’

  Parshuram waved his hand at Veerbhadra before turning to Shiva. ‘My Lord, why don’t you sing and show us how it’s done?’

  As everyone pinned their eyes upon him, Shiva looked up at the sky, rubbed his cold neck and cleared his throat.

  ‘Enough of the theatrics,’ said Veerbhadra. ‘Start singing now.’

  Shiva slapped Veerbhadra playfully on his arm.

  ‘All right now,’ said Shiva with a genial grin. ‘Silence!’

  Veerbhadra light-heartedly put his finger on his lips as Brahaspati glared at him. Veerbhadra reached out, took the chillum from Parshuram, and inhaled deeply.

  Shiva closed his eyes and went within himself. A sonorous hum emerged from within his very being, as he hit the perfect note right away. A lilting melody of words followed and the enraptured audience understood their significance. It was the prayer of a warrior to agni or fire, imploring it for a blessing. The warrior would repay this honour by feeding his enemies in combat to the hungry flames of a cremation pyre. The listeners intrinsically understood that Shiva’s prakriti was closest to fire rather than the other four elements, each of which had Guna war songs dedicated to them.

  It was a short song but the audience was spellbound. Shiva ended his performance to a robust round of applause.

  ‘You still have it in you,’ smiled Veerbhadra. ‘That cold throat hasn’t thrown your voice off.’

  Shiva smiled and took the chillum from Veerbhadra. He was about to take a drag when he heard someone cough softly near the entrance of the terrace. All the friends turned to find Sati standing there.

  Shiva put the chillum down as he smiled. ‘Did we wake you?’

  Sati laughed as she walked up to Shiva. ‘You were loud enough to awaken the entire city! But the song was so beautiful that I didn’t mind being woken up.’

  Sati took a seat next to Shiva as everyone laughed.

  Shiva smiled. ‘It’s a song from back home. It steels a warrior’s heart for battle.’

  ‘I think the singing was more beautiful than the song,’ said Sati.

  ‘Yeah, right!’ said
Shiva.

  ‘Why don’t you try to sing it, My Lady?’ asked Nandi.

  ‘No, no,’ said Sati. ‘Of course not.’

  ‘Why not?’ asked Veerbhadra.

  ‘I would love to hear you sing, my child,’ said Brahaspati.

  ‘Come on,’ pleaded Shiva.

  ‘All right,’ said a smiling Sati. ‘I’ll try.’

  Shiva picked up the chillum and offered it to Sati. She shook her head.

  Sati had been playing close attention to Shiva’s singing. The song, its melody and lyrics, had already been committed to memory. Sati closed her eyes, drew in a deep breath and entrusted herself to the music. The song began on a very low octave. She reproduced his earlier performance precisely, allowing the words to flow out in a flood when needed and letting them hang delicately when required. She quickened her breathing as she approached the end and took the notes higher and higher into a crescendo where the song finished in a flourish. Even the bonfire seemed to respond to the call of the elemental fire song from Sati.

  ‘Wow!’ exclaimed Shiva, embracing her as she finished. ‘I didn’t know you could sing so beautifully.’

  Sati blushed. ‘Was it really that good?’

  ‘My Lady!’ said a stunned Veerbhadra. ‘It was fantastic. I always thought that Shiva was the best singer in the universe. But you are even better than him.’

  ‘Of course not,’ said Sati.

  ‘Of course, yes,’ said Shiva. ‘It almost seemed like you had pulled all the surrounding fire into yourself.’

  ‘And I shall keep it within me,’ said Sati. ‘We’re going to be fighting the war of our lives. We need all the fire that we can get!’

  Ganesh and Kartik had been housed in the private chambers of King Maatali of Vaishali. They were accompanied by the Ayodhyan prince Bhagirath and the Branga king Chandraketu. Their information was that Magadh was not preparing a blockade to stop their ships from sailing to Ayodhya. But the Magadhan army had been put on alert and training sessions had been doubled. Either this was a precautionary step taken by Surapadman or the Magadhans planned on attacking them once they had exhausted themselves against the Ayodhyans.

  ‘We cannot afford to lose either men or ships as we pass Magadh,’ said Ganesh. ‘We’ve got to be prepared for the worst.’

  ‘The way I see it,’ said Bhagirath, pointing to the river map on the table, ‘their primary catapults will be in the main fort on the west bank of the Sarayu. They have a small battlement on the east side as well, from where they can load catapults and throw fire barrels at us, but considering the size of this battlement, I don’t think that the range will be long. So my suggestion is that we sail our ships closer to the eastern bank of the Sarayu.’

  ‘But not too close though!’ said Chandraketu.

  ‘Of course,’ said Bhagirath. ‘We don’t want to be the casualties of the smaller catapults from the east either.’

  ‘Also, we can make sure that we don’t just depend on our sails but also have our oarsmen in position to row the ships rapidly,’ said the Vaishali king, Maatali.

  ‘But no matter which side of the river we sail and how quickly we row, we will still lose people if they decide to attack,’ said Ganesh. ‘Remember, we are on ships, so we cannot get our men to disembark fast enough to retaliate.’

  ‘Why don’t we increase their risks?’ asked Kartik.

  ‘How?’ asked Ganesh.

  ‘Have half the soldiers from every ship go ashore before Magadh. We could get them to march on the eastern banks alongside our ships. The reduced load will make our ships move faster. Also, the Magadhan battlement on the eastern bank would know there is a massive contingent of enemy soldiers marching just outside their walls. They would have to think twice before doing anything stupid.’

  ‘I like the idea,’ said Bhagirath.

  ‘I’ve thought of something even simpler,’ said Chandraketu.

  Ganesh looked at the Branga king.

  ‘The Magadh royalty is amongst the poorest in Swadweep,’ said Chandraketu. ‘It’s a powerful kingdom but King Mahendra has lost a considerable part of his fortune owing to both his son Ugrasen’s as well as his own gambling addiction.’

  ‘Do you want to bribe them?’ asked Bhagirath.

  ‘Why not?’

  ‘For one, we would need massive amounts of money. A few thousand gold coins will not suffice. We won’t be negotiating with some army officers but the royalty itself.’

  ‘Will one million gold coins be enough?’

  Bhagirath was stunned. ‘One million?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Just to make it through unharmed?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Lord Rudra, be praised. That will be nearly six months of tax collections for the Magadhan royalty.’

  ‘Exactly. I’ll dispatch Divodas to Magadh with half the amount in the first ship. The other half can be handed over once our last ship has passed by safely.’

  ‘But they could use this wealth to buy weapons,’ said Kartik.

  ‘They will not be able to do that quickly enough,’ said Chandraketu. ‘And what they do with the money after the war is over is not my concern.’

  ‘Can you really afford to give away so much gold, Your Highness?’ asked Ganesh.

  Chandraketu smiled. ‘We have more than enough, Lord Ganesh. But it means nothing to us. I would give away all the gold that we have to stop the Somras.’

  ‘All right,’ said Ganesh. ‘I see no reason why it won’t work.’

  Chapter 21

  Siege of Ayodhya

  The cool northerly wind was a welcome relief for Shiva as he sat on the deck of the lead ship with Gopal, Sati and Kali clustered around him. As the fifty-six vessel armada made steady progress upriver, he knew that in just a few weeks they would reach close to the headwaters of the Chambal from where the soldiers would disembark and march to the Narmada.

  ‘Panditji, do your ships that wait for us at the Narmada have the additional capacity to carry the fifty-five thousand soldiers who accompany us?’ asked Kali.

  ‘Yes, Your Highness,’ said Gopal. ‘Our ships have been specially designed to handle this additional load since we knew that we would not be able to use the ships we’re currently on.’

  ‘Judging by the maps we’ve seen,’ said Sati, ‘we should reach Lothal in three months, right Panditji?’

  ‘Yes, Satiji,’ said Gopal. ‘If the winds favour us, we may even make it earlier.’

  ‘Have you received word from the Lothal governor, Kali?’ asked Shiva.

  ‘My ambassador will be waiting with the information at the Narmada,’ answered Kali. ‘Trust me, we will gain easy entry into Lothal. But don’t expect a huge addition of troops into our army. Lothal doesn’t have more than two or three thousand soldiers.’

  ‘We don’t really need their soldiers,’ said Shiva. ‘We have enough troops of our own. Along with the Vasudev army that waits for us at the Narmada, your own Naga army and this Branga force, we have more than a hundred thousand men. That’s equal to the strength of the Meluhan army.’

  ‘We can easily defeat them,’ said Kali.

  ‘I do not intend to attack,’ said Shiva.

  ‘I think you should.’

  ‘All we need to do is destroy the Somras manufacturing facility, Kali.’

  ‘But you have the Nagas with you. You shouldn’t be afraid of a direct confrontation.’

  ‘I’m not afraid. I just don’t see the sense in it. It will distract us from our main purpose – the destruction of the Somras. We do not want to destroy Meluha. Don’t forget that.’

  ‘I’ll count on you to remind me of that every time I forget,’ said Kali.

  Shiva smiled and shook his head.

  The voyage up the Sarayu had been surprisingly uneventful. The Magadhans did not attack Ganesh’s ships. The massive convoy was so long that the guards on the Magadhan towers spent an entire day watching ships go by.

  A little over a week later, Ganesh ordered his ships to wei
gh anchor. Kartik, Bhagirath, Chandraketu and Ganesh got into a small boat and rowed ashore. The forest had been cleared up to a fair distance. Divodas, the leader of the Branga immigrants in Kashi, waited there along with twenty men.

  Ganesh jumped off as soon as the boat beached, and waded through the shallow water to the river bank. The others followed. He touched his head to the ground as he reached the shore. He looked deep into the forest, remembering a time long ago when he had hidden behind the trees and observed his mother. ‘Kartik, this is the Bal-Atibal Kund. This is where Saptrishi Vishwamitra taught Lord Ram his legendary skills.’

  Kartik’s eyes were wide open in awe. He bent down and touched the ground with his hand and whispered, ‘Jai Shri Ram.’

  The others around him repeated it. ‘Jai Shri Ram.’

  ‘Kartik,’ said Ganesh, ‘this ground was blessed by Saptrishi Vishwamitra and Lord Ram. But its greatness has been forgotten by many. We may have to redeem the honour of this land with blood.’

  Kartik took a moment to understand. ‘Do you think Surapadman might chase us?’

  Ganesh smiled. ‘He will chase us. Trust me. I see the siege of Ayodhya as a bait to draw Surapadman out of Magadh. Once he is out, we will destroy his army and capture his city. We’ll be able to stop Ayodhyan ships easily with Magadh blockading the Ganga. And the battle to decide the fate of Magadh should be fought here. For this is where I would like you to attack him.’

  ‘I would have thought that Surapadman would prevail on his father.’

  ‘He is a clever man, Kartik. From what I have understood, his instinct was to support us but in the face of so much opposition, he will do what is now in his best interest. And he does have much to gain. He will win the favour of his father and his countrymen by taking revenge for his brother’s death. He will come as the saviour for Ayodhya, albeit a little late so that Ayodhya is weakened. And who knows, he may even capture the sons of the Neelkanth... Wouldn’t that make him a strong ally of Bhrigu?’ asked Ganesh with an ironic smile. ‘Yes, brother, he will attack and he will learn that clever men should always listen to their instincts.’

  Kartik took a deep breath and looked up at the sky before turning back to Ganesh with resolve writ large in his eyes. ‘We will turn the river red with blood, dada.’