‘My Lady,’ said Veerbhadra. ‘Please listen to me...’
‘Bhadra,’ said Sati, using the name her husband did for his best friend. ‘I am going. I will return unharmed. And with a peace treaty.’
Chapter 42
Kanakhala’s Choice
The invitation for the peace conference had been accepted.
Kanakhala rushed to Daksha’s private office the minute she received a bird courier from Lothal. The door attendant tried to stop her, saying the Emperor had asked him not to let anyone enter.
Kanakhala brushed him aside. ‘That order would not have included me. He asked me to meet him as soon as I received this,’ said Kanakhala, pointing to a folded letter.
The door attendant moved aside and Kanakhala heard whispers as soon as she opened the door. Vidyunmali and Daksha were speaking softly with each other. She gently shut the door behind her.
‘Are you sure they are ready?’ asked Daksha.
‘Yes, My Lord. Swuth’s men have been practising in Naga attire. That fraud Neelkanth won’t know what hit him,’ said Vidyunmali. ‘The world will blame the terrorist Nagas for their beloved Neelkanth’s assassination.’
Daksha suddenly stopped him as he noticed a shocked Kanakhala rooted at the entrance. Vidyunmali drew his sword.
Daksha raised his hand. ‘Vidyunmali! Calm down. Prime Minister Kanakhala knows where her loyalties lie.’
‘Your Highness...’ whispered Kanakhala, her eyes wide with terror.
‘Kanakhala,’ said Daksha with eerie calm, walking up and placing his hands on her shoulders. ‘Sometimes an Emperor has got to do what has to be done.’
‘But we cannot break Lord Ram’s laws,’ said Kanakhala, her breathing quickening with nervousness.
‘Lord Ram’s laws on a peace conference apply to a king, not to his prime minister,’ said Daksha.
‘But...’
‘No buts,’ said Daksha. ‘Remember your oath. This is war time. You have to do whatever your Emperor asks of you. If you reveal his secrets without his permission, the punishment is death.’
‘But, Your Highness... This is wrong.’
‘What will be wrong is for you, Kanakhala, to break your vow.’
‘Your Highness,’ said Vidyunmali. ‘This is too risky. I think the Prime Minister should be...’
Daksha interrupted Vidyunmali. ‘We’re doing no such thing, Vidyunmali. If we don’t have her here to organise the conference, Shiva’s men will get suspicious the moment they arrive. It is, after all, the “Conference of Kanakhala”.’
Kanakhala was speechless with horror.
‘You have been loyal to me for decades, Kanakhala,’ said Daksha. ‘Remember your vows and you will live. You can continue to be prime minister. But if you break them, not only will you be given the death sentence, you will also be damned by the Parmatma.’
Kanakhala couldn’t utter a word. She knew that the prime ministerial oath also said that if she betrayed her liege, no funeral ceremonies would be conducted for her. According to ancient superstitions, this was a fate worse than death. Without funeral rituals, her soul would not be able to cross the mythical Vaitarni River to Pitralok, the land of one’s ancestors. The onward journey of her soul, either towards liberation or to return to earth in another body, would be interrupted. She would exist in the land of the living as a Pishach, a ghost.
‘Remember your vows and do your duty,’ said Daksha. ‘Focus on the conference.’
Kanakhala stood quietly on the terrace outside her home-office. She loved the sound of trickling water from the small fountain in the centre of the chamber. This sound was wafting gently towards her, all the way to the open balcony. It kept her mind focused and calm. She looked up; the sun was already on its way down.
She took a deep breath and looked towards the street. The soldiers weren’t even trying to hide. Kanakhala did not feel any anger towards the men who kept watch outside her house. They were good soldiers. They were simply following orders given to them by their commander.
Kanakhala knew it was pointless to try and send a message to Lothal and warn the Neelkanth. She was sure Vidyunmali would have positioned expert archers along the route to bring down any bird courier. Furthermore, it was very possible that the Neelkanth’s convoy had already left Lothal. Her only recourse was Parvateshwar. If Lord Bhrigu and he managed to reach Devagiri in time, this travesty that her Emperor and Brigadier Vidyunmali were planning could be stopped. But getting a message to Karachapa wouldn’t be easy.
Kanakhala looked at the small message in her hand. She had personally addressed it to the Neelkanth. She rolled the message tightly and slipped it into a small canister attached to a pigeon’s leg. She shut the canister, closed her eyes and whispered, ‘Forgive me, noble bird. Your sacrifice will aid a greater cause. Om Brahmaye Namah.’
Then she threw the bird into the air.
She could immediately sense the soldiers below go into a tizzy. She saw an archer emerging from the rooftop of a building some distance away. He quickly loaded an arrow on to his bow and shot at the pigeon, hitting the bird unerringly. The stricken pigeon dropped like a stone, with the arrow pierced through its body. The soldiers quickly scattered to find the pigeon. The message would be taken to Vidyunmali instantly. It would appear genuine since it was in Kanakhala’s handwriting and had been addressed to the Neelkanth.
Kanakhala looked towards the street once again. From the corner of her eye, she saw her servant slip quietly out of the side door, using the temporary distraction of the soldiers with the fallen bird. The servant would release a pigeon outside the city walls, a homing bird set for Karachapa. Kanakhala hoped Bhrigu and Parvateshwar would be able to arrive in Devagiri in time to stop this madness; to prevent this subversion of Lord Ram’s laws. Subsequently, the servant had been instructed to ride hard southwards, towards Lothal, and attempt to stop the Neelkanth and his peace negotiators from walking into a trap. Kanakhala had done all that she possibly could.
The Prime Minister sighed. She had broken her vow of loyalty to the Emperor, but she sought solace from an ancient scriptural verse: Dharma matih udgritah; dharma is that which is well judged by your mind; think deeply about dharma and your mind will tell you what is right.
In this case, it appeared to Kanakhala that breaking her vows was the right thing to do. For that was the only way to stop an even bigger crime from being committed. But she was no fool. She knew her punishment. She would not give Daksha that pleasure, though.
Kanakhala smiled sadly and walked back into her office. She stopped at her writing desk and picked up a bowl, which contained a clear, greenish medicine that had been prepared recently. She swallowed it quickly. It would numb her pain and make her feel drowsy; exactly what she needed. She ambled up to the fountain. The small pool at the base of the fountain was perfect; deep enough to keep her hand submerged. Clotting would be arrested if the wound was continually washed by flowing water.
She picked up the sharp ceremonial knife that she carried on her person. For one brief moment, she wondered whether she would roam the earth forever as a ghost, if her funeral ceremony was not conducted in accordance with the prescribed rituals. Then she shook her head and dismissed her fears.
Dharmo rakshati rakshitaha; dharma protects those who protect it.
She shut her eyes, balled her left hand into a fist and submerged it in the water. She then took a deep breath and whispered softly, ‘Jai Shri Ram.’
In a swift move, she slashed deep, slicing through the veins and arteries on her wrist. Blood burst out in a rapid flood. She rested her head on the side of the fountain and waited for death to take her away.
‘It doesn’t change the plans at all, Your Highness,’ said Vidyunmali.
A stunned Daksha was sitting in his private office, having just received word of Kanakhala’s suicide.
‘Your Highness,’ said Vidyunmali, when he didn’t get a response.
‘Yes...’ said Daksha, still reeling from shock, looking d
istracted.
‘Listen to me,’ said Vidyunmali. ‘We will go ahead with the plans as before. Swuth’s men are ready.’
‘Yes...’
‘Your Highness!’ said Vidyunmali loudly.
Daksha’s face suddenly showed some focus as he stared at Vidyunmali.
‘Did you hear me, Your Highness?’ asked Vidyunmali.
‘Yes.’
‘Everyone will be told that Kanakhala died in an accident. The peace conference will continue in her memory.’
‘Yes.’
‘Also, I have to go.’
‘What?’ Daksha seemed to panic.
‘I told you, Your Highness,’ said Vidyunmali patiently, as if he was talking to a child. ‘One of Kanakhala’s servants is missing. I fear he may have set out to warn the fraud Neelkanth. He has to be stopped. I’m going to ride out myself, towards the south, with a platoon.’
‘But how will I manage all this?’
‘You don’t have to do anything. Everything is under control. My soldiers will find a way to bring Princess Sati into the palace. Nobody else from her party will be allowed to accompany her. The moment she is with you, signal my man who will wait at your window. He will shoot a fire arrow high in the air, which will signal to Swuth’s assassins that the coast is clear. They will then quickly move in and kill the fraud Neelkanth. They will also leave a few of Shiva’s people alive so that they can testify that they were attacked by Nagas.’
Daksha still looked nervous.
Vidyunmali stepped up and spoke gently. ‘You don’t have to worry. I have planned everything in detail. There will be no mistakes made. All you have to do is signal my man when Princess Sati enters your room. That’s it.’
‘That’s it?’
‘Yes, that’s it. Now I really need to go, Your Highness. If Kanakhala’s man manages to reach the fraud Neelkanth, it will be the end of our plans.’
‘Of course. Go.’
‘Those sons of bitches!’ scowled Kali.
Jadav Rana, the ruler of Umbergaon had just rowed up to the Naga fleet in a fast cutter. His small kingdom lay to the south of the Narmada. The Nagas had helped him on many occasions. And, Jadav Rana was not an ungrateful man.
When the fishermen in his kingdom informed him of a large Meluhan fleet stationed in a hidden lagoon nearby, he had gone personally to investigate. Keeping himself concealed, Jadav had seen the massive fleet and immediately surmised that this had something to do with the war raging in the north between the Neelkanth’s forces and the Meluhans. He had also received news that the Nagas themselves were racing down the western coast, towards the mouth of the Narmada. He’d immediately got into a fast cutter to intercept the Nagas before they entered the river that marked the southern boundary of the Sapt Sindhu. He was convinced the Meluhans intended to take the Nagas by surprise and attack them from the rear.
‘Your Highness,’ said Jadav Rana. ‘I assumed the Meluhans would enter the Narmada after you and assault your rear guard. They could devastate your entire fleet before you even realised what had happened.’
‘I wouldn’t be surprised if they have a forward ambush planned for us as well,’ said Kartik.
‘We’ll attack them in their hidden lagoon,’ said Kali. ‘We’ll burn their ships down and hang their rotten carcasses on the coastal trees.’
Ganesh had remained silent till now. Something was amiss. ‘Your Highness, how many Meluhans are there?’
‘Fifty ships, Lord Ganesh,’ said Jadav Rana. ‘It’s a reasonably large force. But you have more than enough ships to take them on.’
‘I didn’t ask you about the ships, Your Highness,’ said Ganesh. ‘I asked how many men...’
Jadav Rana frowned. ‘I don’t know, Lord Ganesh.’ He then turned to his men. ‘Do you people have any idea?’
‘It’s difficult to be sure, My Lord, since they have largely remained on ship,’ said one of Jadav Rana’s lieutenants. ‘But judging by the amount of food they have been foraging, I don’t think there would be more than five thousand. You have many more men, Lord Ganesh. You can win very easily.’
Ganesh held his head. ‘Bhoomidevi, be merciful.’
A stunned Kali stared at Jadav Rana’s lieutenant. ‘Are you sure? Just five thousand?’
Jadav Rana was surprised. He didn’t understand why the Nagas looked so upset. Logically, they should have been happy. They outnumbered the Meluhans dramatically.
‘My men are well acquainted with these coasts, Your Highness,’ said Jadav Rana. ‘If they’re saying that the Meluhans number only five thousand, I would go with that number.’
‘We’ve been taken for a ride,’ said Ganesh. ‘There’s no attack planned on Panchavati. They were trying to divide our forces. And they succeeded.’
A worried Kartik looked at his elder brother. ‘They’re probably attacking Lothal even as we speak.’
‘And we took a hundred thousand men away from maa,’ said a distraught Ganesh.
Kali turned and yelled the order at her prime minister, Karkotak. ‘Turn around, now! We’re going back to Lothal! Double rowing till we get there! MOVE!’
Chapter 43
A Civil Revolt
Bhagirath and Brahaspati had come to the Lothal port, having been informed by an advance boat that Shiva’s ship would be arriving soon. They could now see Shiva’s merchant ship sailing in from the east, from the vantage position of the port walls. To the south, they could also see the naval contingent that had left under Kali’s command, steaming forward. All the ships would probably dock at Lothal at the same time.
Brahaspati took a sharp intake of breath as he saw a woman on the foredeck of Shiva’s ship.
Bhagirath couldn’t help notice the dramatic transformation in Brahaspati. He turned towards Shiva’s ship. They were still quite far, but he could make out the countenance of Shiva and Gopal. Standing next to them was a woman, an Indian-looking woman. But the Ayodhyan prince didn’t have the foggiest clue about her identity.
‘Who is she, Brahaspatiji?’ asked Bhagirath.
Brahaspati was crying. ‘Oh Lord Brahma! Oh Lord Brahma!’
‘Who is she?’
Brahaspati seemed to be delirious now. Delirious but happy! He turned around, rushing down the steps towards the docks. He was rambling in pure delight. ‘They let her go! Shiva freed her! Lord Ram be praised, he freed her!’
‘Isn’t that Shiva’s ship?’ said Kali, pointing ahead.
Kali, Ganesh and Kartik had rushed back to Lothal and were surprised to discover that there was no siege on the city at all. They saw the merchant ship just ahead, pulling into the circular port. Fifteen minutes later Kali’s ship docked at a berth as well. Shiva’s ship was anchored just ahead of theirs. As soon as they got off the gangway plank, they rushed towards Shiva. They could see that Bhagirath and Brahaspati had come to receive the Neelkanth and Gopal. A stunned Brahaspati had just embraced a woman. Both of them were crying profusely.
‘Shiva!’ shouted Kali from a distance, sprinting towards him.
Shiva turned and smiled at Kali. ‘I saw the Naga ships behind us. Where had you gone?’
‘We were led on a wild goose chase,’ said Kali. ‘We were led to believe that Panchavati was under attack.’
‘The Meluhan ships were a decoy?’ asked Bhagirath.
‘Yes, Prince Bhagirath,’ said Kartik. ‘The ships had only five thousand men. They had no intention of attacking Panchavati.’
‘That is good news,’ said Bhagirath.
‘Where’s Sati?’ asked Shiva, looking around.
‘There’s some good news regarding her as well,’ said Bhagirath.
‘Good news?’ asked Ganesh.
‘Yes, we may have found a solution to end the war,’ said Bhagirath.
‘We’ve come back with a solution as well,’ said Gopal, pointing to the large trunk that was being lowered carefully onto the docks from their ship.
Shiva looked again at an obviously delighted Brahaspati who was refusing to
let go of Tara. She was crying inconsolably, her head gently nestled against Brahaspati’s chest. They appeared like teenagers in the first heady flush of love.
‘Looks like there is good news all around,’ said Shiva, smiling.
‘How in the Holy Lake’s name can this be good news?’
Bhagirath maintained a nervous silence, fearful of Shiva’s wrath.
‘But, My Lord,’ said Chandraketu, ‘Lady Sati believed this was our best chance at peace. And it looks like Emperor Daksha himself wants it. If he signs a peace treaty, then the war is over. And we do not want to destroy Meluha, do we? All we want is the end of the Somras.’
‘I don’t trust that goat of a man,’ said Kali. ‘If he hurts my sister, I will burn his entire city to a cinder, with him in it.’
‘He won’t hurt her, Kali,’ said Shiva, shaking his head. ‘But I’m afraid that he may make her a prisoner and use that to negotiate with us.’
‘But, My Lord,’ said Chenardhwaj, ‘that is impossible. The rules governing a peace conference are very clear. Both parties are free to return, unharmed, if a solution or compromise is not found.’
‘What’s to stop my grandfather from not following the laws?’ asked Ganesh. ‘It will not be the first time he’s broken a law.’
‘My Lord,’ said a Vasudev pandit entering the chamber and addressing Gopal. ‘I have urgent news.’
‘I think we can talk later, Panditji,’ said Gopal.
‘No, My Lord,’ insisted the pandit in charge of the Lothal temple. ‘We must speak now.’
Gopal was surprised but he knew his Vasudev pandits did not panic unnecessarily. It had to be something important. He rose and walked up to the pandit.
‘Lord Ganesh,’ said Chenardhwaj, resuming his conversation with Ganesh. ‘The peace conference rules were laid down by Lord Ram himself. They are amongst the fundamental rules that can never be amended. They have to be rigorously followed, on pain of a punishment worse than death. Even a man like Emperor Daksha will never break these rules.’
‘I pray to the Parmatma that you are right, Chenardhwaj,’ snarled Kali.