Shakuni laughed, slapping his thighs. Suyodhana watched them both in silence.
Outside the room, Vidhura shook his head in despair. He was aware of the rumours about Kunti, but he had never judged people by his own moral standards. For him, morality was a personal thing and what Kunti and her husband had done was irrelevant. The thought had never entered Vidhura's mind that Yudhishtra had a claim to the throne of Hastinapura. He was the son of the younger Prince, Pandu. Suyodhana was the eldest son of the reigning ruler, Dhritarashtra. It was accepted that Suyodhana would succeed his father. When Shakuni said that Yudhishtra could not claim the throne because he was a bastard, it had hit Vidhura like a bolt. Why had he been oblivious to the palace intrigue thickening around him? This meant more trouble. He had not paid attention to people like Drona and the Priests and the nobles close to Kunti, who aired their wishes openly regarding Yudhishtra succeeding Dhritarashtra. Now all the unrelated conversations and innocuous comments made by certain nobles; the elaborate courtesy shown by Yudhishtra to all the Priests; and other minor things, which he had attached no importance to earlier, fell into a pattern. Someone powerful and intelligent was moving his pieces with skill. Was Parashurama controlling the strings of this dangerous game? Immersed in his thoughts, Vidhura almost missed Aswathama entering Suyodhana's chamber. He hoped the son of Drona had not seen him.
Aswathama was met with loud exclamations of jubilation and surprise by his friends. But Shakuni frowned when he saw Drona's son. He had not accounted for Aswathama being present and cursed under his breath. Time was running out. He did not have a choice, so he pressed on. Keeping a wary eye on Aswathama, Shakuni said, "Suyodhana, next time Bhima calls you the son of the blind King, you know how to answer back."
Suyodhana remained silent but Sushasana chuckled. "Uncle, my brother is afraid of Bhima's brute strength. Every time either of us has fought him, he has trounced us."
Suyodhana's eyes flashed in anger but Shakuni smiled. Aswathama remained impassive but his eyes bored into Shakuni. "Son, I know you are not strong enough to challenge Bhima. But there are other methods of getting rid of him." He lowered his voice to a whisper. "A few years ago, I told you how we got rid of our enemies in Gandhara. When your opponent is strong, it is not valour that will win the battle, but intelligence." Suyodhana looked startled.
Listening to the conspiracy being hatched by the Gandhara Prince, Vidhura was tempted to enter the room and break up the party. But he needed to know how Suyodhana would react. Suyodhana paced the room, his head down, clenching and unclenching his fists.
Finally, Suyodhana raised his head and met his friend's eyes. Aswathama shook his head imperceptibly and Suyodhana acknowledged it with a nod. "Uncle Shakuni, I cannot agree to such tactics. I am a Kshatriya, a warrior. I may not be an expert with my sword or bow, but that is my fault and I am striving hard to improve my skills. My Guru's open dislike has not made my learning easy. I feel my confidence draining away the moment I see Bhima. I hate the way he and his brothers treat us and others weaker than themselves. But I cannot agree to any unfair means to defeat them. One day, with hard work and practice, I will become a better warrior than Bhima. Until then, Lord Shankara has willed that I must endure Bhima's tyranny. I consider it a prod from the Lord to strive harder. Please do not tell me to poison my cousin, however evil he may be."
Vidhura breathed a sigh of relief. He heard Shakuni arguing with Suyodhana and decided that the time for intervention had arrived. He entered and stood in the doorway, his hands crossed over his chest. Suyodhana and Sushasana looked startled to see Vidhura in their room. If Shakuni and Aswathama were shocked as well, their faces did not betray it. A small smile played at the corners of Shakuni's mouth, while Aswathama simply acknowledged Vidhura's presence with a formal folding of his hands and a bow. Vidhura accepted the greeting with a nod of his head and moved towards the Crown Prince. "May I know what this party is for?"
But it was Shakuni who answered. "When we decide to have low-castes at our parties, we shall send you an invitation."
"We can discuss that with the Grand Regent at the Court tomorrow. Perhaps Lord Bhishma can throw some light on the propriety of a Shudra joining a party of nobles plotting murder," Vidhura answered without looking at Shakuni. His eyes bored into Suyodhana, who stared at his own feet.
"Get out of this place to where you belong. This is the chamber of the Crown Prince of Hastinapura. Do not pollute this place," Shakuni said, moving closer to Vidhura.
Vidhura calmly turned towards Shakuni and said, "I think that is my line to you, Mlecha - get out of my country to where you belong. This is the chamber of the Crown Prince of Hastinapura. Do not pollute this holy land with your presence."
Shakuni looked at Suyodhana and Sushasana, but they would not meet his eyes, so he smiled at Vidhura and said, "Sir, it was just a joke. Why take it so seriously? Pardon us. We did not mean anything by it."
Aswathama laughed aloud and then stopped as Vidhura glared at him. Shakuni walked away without another word. A deafening silence ensued. None of those who remained in the room observed Shakuni carrying away a white silk shawl belonging to Suyodhana. The young Prince was fond of soft silk and was known to wear beautiful, white shawls. Vidhura felt pity stir in his heart for the Crown Prince. He wanted to put a comforting arm around Suyodhana's broad shoulders, but decided against it. He remembered Shakuni's taunt about his low status and something pulled him back from touching the Prince. He was also a little peeved that none of these high-born boys had bothered to defend him against Shakuni's bigotry. "You should be ashamed..." he began.
Aswathama interrupted him. "Sir, there is nothing for us to be ashamed of. Suyodhana answered Shakuni with nobility. He has been true to his heart and said that he will not stoop to treachery, even though the Pandavas have been harassing the entire Kaurava clan since anyone can remember. If someone has to be ashamed, it should be the Pandava brothers and the coterie of Priests and god men who are determined to ruin this country for their petty gains. Everybody in the street knows that the Pandavas should have no place in this palace. They are as alien to this place as you or I. You owe your position to your abilities and I to the Prince's friendship. But the Pandavas owe their places only to the contrived manipulations of a few Priests and a cunning mother."
Vidhura did not reply. Nobody spoke. A night bird kept calling at regular intervals from the garden. Its forlorn cry helped only to thicken the uneasy silence. Finally, Vidhura said, "Suyodhana, we will meet Lord Bhishma tomorrow. It is not to accuse you of anything but I think some advice from the Grand Regent will help. I would like all three of you to be present at Lord Bhishma's receiving chamber in the morning."
Aswathama tried to protest but Suyodhana stopped him with a gesture. "Uncle Vidhura, I will be there and so will these two. It is always a pleasure to listen to Lord Bhishma." Suyodhana bowed to his uncle.
A rush of affection for the Prince overwhelmed the Prime Minister of the Kurus and his hand touched Suyodhana's bowed head in benediction. Vidhura caught Aswathama's look of surprise and blushed. Hiding his embarrassment, he said in a gruff voice, "Young men, the night is passing and sleep will do us all good. Good night."
Vidhura left Suyodhana's chamber and stood alone in the corridor for a long time. He was afraid for the Prince. He was afraid that the nobility of character he displayed now would wither away in time. The pressure on Suyodhana was going to be tremendous. Inch by inch, the conservatives were gaining space and it was going to be a long-drawn war. The enigmatic enemy, Parashurama, was a master strategist and his invisible grip on society was tightening.
The night bird that had been calling in the palace garden sounded close to the palace now. Its mate answered from somewhere nearby. It might have been a cry of passion but the sound stoked the sleeping fears in Vidhura's mind. He had a premonition that evil awaited in the dark, ready to pounce on him. The bird's cry was an omen. He shivered and looked around to see if anything was amiss. The night was dark and
cloudy. The lamps that created islands of gentle light in the sea of shadows had begun to splutter and die. Vidhura was a worried man. His concerns were weaving a tangle in his mind. He could not see anything out of place nor could his ears pick up any unusual sounds. 'Perhaps I am getting old, or as Bhishma is fond of saying, the pressure of work is getting on my nerves,' Vidhura thought, sighing in weariness. 'Today also, work is going to keep me away from home. When will I get some time to spend with my family? My sons will be waiting for me, yet this is my fate, to toil hard and feel guilty for not spending enough time with them.' He sighed to himself, trying to push away the image of his wife and two little sons. Immersed in thought, he turned left and walked along the long, pillared corridor that ran around the palace. Had he turned right instead of left that night, the history of India would perhaps have been different.
***
It took another hour for Aswathama to leave for his home, located more than fifteen minutes' walk from the main palace. Sushasana too, lingered before retiring to his own chamber. A few moments later, the shadow of a thick stone pillar split and a fat man stepped into the dim pool of light thrown by a flickering torch. He had a surprisingly thin face for such a bulky body and was almost bald. The pockmarked face had trapped a frown five decades before and had held onto it firmly ever since. His shoes of soft leather did not make any sound as he walked in the opposite direction to Vidhura. He was careful not to step into the small islands of light thrown by the torches at intervals along the corridor or make any noise to awaken the dozing guards. He belonged to the world of shadows.
He paused near one of the smaller rooms in the west wing of the palace. He did not have to wait for long. The door quietly opened and the Prince of Gandhara peered out. With a curt nod, Shakuni invited the fat man in. There was an oil lamp and a few palm leaf manuscripts strewn on a small table in the corner. Shakuni took a leaf from the pile and handed it over to the man. "Purochana..." Shakuni's voice was muffled but he stopped short when he saw the expression on the fat man's face. He realised his mistake. Names were prohibited in this deadly game of espionage and intrigue. 'What the hell,' he thought, 'Purochana is only a paid servant and I am the master.' But as Shakuni gazed into Purochana's cold eyes, he felt a chill. 'I have to be more careful in future,' he thought.
"That Brahmin boy and Sushasana, showed no signs of retiring for the night and were hanging around in the Prince's chamber," Purochana said as he took the palm script from Shakuni's hand. Though a scowl was a permanent feature of the fat man's face, when he finished reading the message, the trace of a smile appeared on his lips. The message was for Takshaka and simply said: The package will be delivered tonight.
"Tell him to strictly follow my instructions and not get greedy and hatch some stupid plans."
"He will not take orders from you, foreigner," Purochana said, distaste making his voice hard.
"The hell he will not! If he takes my money, he will do what I say."
"Let us hope so." Purochana gave a curt bow and disappeared into his world of shadows. He would have to go past the guards at the gates and it was already late. Men slept deeply in the first three hours after midnight and already the first hour had passed. He had only a few hours before sunrise to make his escape, cross the river, meet Kaliya, and deliver his message, take a bath, and get to office as Inspector of City Hygiene. The Nagas had to be ready when Shakuni delivered his 'package'. Though the plot had been hatched months before, the exact date had not been fixed. Shakuni had waited for the time to be right and today the fruit had ripened. The fight between Bhima and Suyodhana had turned ugly and the big Pandava had easily roughed up Suyodhana.
A few minutes after Purochana left, Shakuni opened his cupboard and took out a bottle of wine. It was an exquisite vintage from Gandhara, prized by the nobility. He also took out a small wooden box and tucked it into the folds of his waistcloth. He peered out to see whether anyone stirred outside. Except for the howling of a dog and the drone of crickets, all was silent. Shakuni was wearing the white silk shawl he had taken from Suyodhana earlier. He walked quickly towards the north wing of the palace, where he knew Bhima slept. He banged on the door thrice before a red-eyed Bhima opened it.
"What the hell..." the words died on Bhima's lips when he saw the bottle Shakuni dangled before his eyes.
"Please come in..." Bhima said, compelled by the contents of the bottle in his uncle's hand.
"Not in this stuffy room. Such exquisite wine is to be enjoyed in the open air. Come, let us go to the ghats and enjoy this beauty from Gandhara."
"The ghats at this hour?" Bhima looked into the darkness beyond the window with apprehension. It was an odd time to go near the river. All the superstitious fears he had accumulated over the years screamed in his mind.
"Why? Are you afraid of the dark?" Shakuni said with a smile, reading Bhima's thoughts with uncanny accuracy.
Shakuni's words stung Bhima. "Am I a child to be afraid of the dark? Come, let us go," he said, hurrying out of his room.
Shakuni followed, a smile on his lips.
***
Suyodhana did not see anything unusual in class the next morning. He did notice Bhima's absence but his cousin had been irregular of late. If Drona minded such unauthorized absences, he never showed it. It would have been another matter if he or his brothers had attempted any such thing, thought Suyodhana. By evening, there was still no trace of Bhima. Gradually, anxiety gripped the Pandavas. Suyodhana also wondered where the idiot had disappeared. Perhaps he was lying stoned somewhere. This simple and most plausible explanation was offered by Sushasana. Aswathama did not say anything but looked worried. By evening, Suyodhana found a strange alteration in the way people looked at him. The search for Bhima had become more frantic and soldiers had begun checking the whole city for the missing Pandava Prince.
On the morning of the second day, the Chief of the Royal Guards woke Suyodhana. He did not bow or look him in the eye. Curtly, he said, "Prince, you are arrested on suspicion of murder and the Court has ordered your presence."
"Murder... what murder...?" Suyodhana tried to protest. When he saw the steely eyes of Vidhura behind the Chief of Guards, he knew argument would be futile.
The guards walked the Crown Prince through the glistening corridors of the palace and across courtyards verdant with blooming flowers. Suyodhana felt shamed by the hundreds of eyes that peered at him from as many windows. He wondered what crime he had committed. He was soon to know. He was to be tried for the murder of Bhima.
*
*
*
12 THE TRIAL
WHEN THE GUARDS ENTERED WITH SUYODHANA, the whole court buzzed with angry murmurs. King Dhritarashtra looked pale and anxious while Queen Gandhari's face seemed set in stone. Suyodhana saw only hostile looks all around. He felt anger building in him. What was this about? Being tried for murder? Who murdered whom? Then it struck him. They must have found Bhima dead and he was the prime suspect because of their infamous rivalry. He tried to recollect what he had said to Shakuni two days ago. He looked around and saw the bitter hatred that burned in his cousins' eyes. Arjuna was glowering with rage. 'If it was not for the presence of Bhishma and the other elders, he would take his revenge on me without pausing to ask any questions,' thought Suyodhana.
Kunti stood up and said gravely. "He killed my son. Is there no justice in this country? A poor widow cannot live in your kingdom peacefully. My son was always so sweet, so loving. Just because Prince Suyodhana could not get the better of him in a straight fight, he has resorted to vile methods. My son is dead. My Bhima is dead. Lord Bhishma... do you not see this injustice? Why did Suyodhana... no, he is Duryodhana... kill him? He was so innocent, my son Bhima..."
"Kunti, we will find your son. He is not dead. He is just missing. We do not have any proof that he has been killed. Please control your emotions..."
Kunti interrupted Bhishma's calming words. "Pitamaha, it is my son who is dead and if I appear emotional, please bear wit
h me. Please grant us justice and punish the guilty."
Dhaumya, the young Brahmin, stood up. "We should not deny justice to a widow. The curse of a widow is powerful and she has lost her son. Duryodhana has murdered Bhima. When we already know the character of a person, we need not wait for any proof to punish him. Lack of proof should not be a reason for a murderer to escape. Instead, we should look at his past conduct. Duryodhana has always been wayward and stubborn. His Guru will vouch for this."
"Dhaumya," Bhishma said in a voice of ice, "you will address the Prince with courtesy in Court. There is no need to use derogatory nicknames to refer to Prince Suyodhana."
"He is Duryodhana," Dhaumya countered angrily.
From the ranks of the Priests and Kunti's sycophants, the chant arose in unison, "Shame on Duryodhana. Duryodhana... Duryodhana..."
Suyodhana stood in the middle of the Court, his heart sinking with the weight of shame, for something he had not done. He wondered what he had done to cause so many people to hate him. True, he had not conformed to their ridiculous ideas of purity of birth and such nonsense but he had never thought they would hate him for just having a different point of view.