“Father...” Suyodhana faltered. “The Grand Regent has resigned his position, as has Uncle Vidhura.”
“Resigned! How is it I know nothing of this?” Dhritarashtra turned to Gandhari, agitated and nervous. “Why has he resigned? No, I do not believe it.” He paused and bent his head in thought. ‘The old man is jealous. He thought he would always rule this country in my stead. He always sided with Pandu. Everyone sided with impotent Pandu. He could not even father sons and yet they sided with him and his bastard children! Pandavas! They are nothing but the sons of Kunti and Madri. I will show them what my sons are capable of!” Raising his head, Dhritarashtra tapped his cane on the floor and commanded imperiously, “Call Yuyutsu!”
‘Yuyutsu? Who was he?’ wondered Suyodhana. Puzzled, he looked at his mother. Her fingers had curled into fists but her face remained impassive.
Dhritarashtra walked up and down, leaning on his stick. He paused when he heard footsteps, sensing the newcomer’s presence even before he entered the room quietly. Suyodhana watched in surprise. The man was plump, had a prosperous paunch, and the hair on his head had started receding, giving a broad look to his forehead.
“Strange thing, but his face resembles yours, Suyodhana,” Karna whispered to his friend.
Dhritarashtra turned to his sons. “Suyodhana, Sushasana, this is your half-brother, Yuyutsu. He is my son. His mother is a Vaishya woman. I have kept this a secret, even from your mother. Now he has come here. Do you know how many ships he owns, how many camels and elephants make up his caravans, how many countries he has visited? I have fathered the greatest of Kshatriya sons and the best Vaishya son as well. I do not need divine intervention to have great sons.” Dhritarashtra laughed aloud.
Yuyutsu bent to touch Gandhari’s feet. She reached out her hand and blessed him with an instinctive gesture.
How many terrible secrets did his father hold, wondered Suyodhana as he watched the scene. Was this yet another rival for the throne?
“Prince, I am the eldest son of the family, older than even Yudhishtra,” Yuyutsu said with a sly smile.
Suyodhana’s eyes glittered with cold dislike. He did not trust the merchant’s easy familiarity, shifting eyes and hollow smile.
“I am just a humble merchant, a Vaishya, trying to make a living,” Yuyutsu continued unctuously.
“Well said, Yuyutsu,” Dhritarashtra said. “He could have had the throne for the asking, for he is my eldest son. If I place him at the fore, what argument would the supporters of the Pandavas have? But Yuyutsu knows his kula dharma and he will not claim the throne.”
“Father, I request permission to use the imperial army to attack Gandhara,” Suyodhana said, completely ignoring Yuyutsu.
“Go, my son. If you require it, seek Yuyutsu’s help. He has his own army to protect his merchant caravans, which are often five or six yojanas long. He has a lakh of men and a large cavalry at his disposal.”
Suyodhana looked away. The pangs of jealousy were unbearable. Another son! The eldest! A possible challenger... No! The throne was rightfully his, he would not surrender it to any merchant, or even to Yudhishtra. But a man with his own standing army, possessed of immense wealth, was dangerous, Suyodhana thought warily.
Yuyutsu smiled, as if reading the Kaurava Prince’s thoughts. Suyodhana bowed his head for his father’s blessings.
“When you conquer Gandhara, do not harm your uncle, no matter what he has done. Bring Shakuni here. He may be in the wrong, but he is the only man who has ever understood my pain. All the others conspired to aid Pandu’s sons,” Dhritarashtra said quietly.
Suyodhana moved to seek Gandhari’s blessing. He whispered to her, “Mother, why do you accept this sly merchant as your step-son?”
“As long as I live, no one but you, my son, will sit on Hastinapura’s throne after your father,” Gandhari murmured in his ear. Suyodhana kissed her on the forehead and turned, almost bumping into Yuyutsu close behind him. Had he heard Gandhari’s words?
The merchant smiled affably at the Prince. “If you require my support with money, men or arms, do not hesitate to approach me. I will do all I can to help.”
Had the wretched man stressed that last word, Suyodhana wondered for a fleeting moment. Without acknowledging the merchant’s words, he rushed out of the chamber, barking commands to his soldiers to have the imperial army assembled quickly.
Karna hurried home to inform his wife but was soon back, beaming with joy. He had become the father of a son. The Gods were smiling on him. He was impatient to go, excited at the thought of battle.
Ekalavya stood nearby, caressing the best horse in the stable and observing the flurry of activity.
The next morning, they were joined by Jayadratha and his men. The imperial army began its journey towards Gandhara. As Suyodhana sat on his horse, supervising the activity, a wayward thought nagged at him – he had not bid farewell to his wife and children. He had been too busy preparing for battle. It was painful talking to Bhanumati these days, her unceasing advice...
An immense caravan was seen approaching Hastinapura from the desert, stretching as far as the eye could see. It carried more wealth than anyone could imagine. For hours it kept marching past the army in the opposite direction. Yuyutsu’s merchant caravan finally entered the capital. As he rushed onwards, Suyodhana wondered whether he would even have a country to rule when he returned from the bleak heights of Gandhara.
*****
20 FISSURES
EKALAVYA’S DAGGER WAS INCHES from Shakuni’s eyes. It had not been easy but the wily Gandharan had finally succeeded in convincing his people to surrender to the imperial army after a sham resistance. Everything had gone according to plan. The deceit was complete, except for the man now waving his dagger before his eyes. Shakuni had not counted on the Nishada being in Suyodhana’s army.
“Dhanaveera Karna, please ask your friend...”
“Shut up, Mlecha!” Ekalavya pressed the tip of the dagger to Shakuni’s eyelid, drawing blood.
Where had this merciless Nishada sprouted from, wondered the master strategist.
“Kill him, Nishada, kill him!” Aswathama shouted.
“I won the Pandava country for you. I won you Indraprastha. I made them your slaves, Suyodhana,” Shakuni pleaded, his voice quavering in fear as part of his act.
“He will talk his way out of this,” Aswathama said bitterly. “Ask him where he has hidden Durjaya.”
“My dear nephew, please...” Shakuni bent over and screamed in real pain as Ekalavya kicked him in the groin. ‘Just wait till I get back at you, you untouchable vermin,’ he thought viciously.
“Ekalavya, leave him alone,” Karna commanded. Shakuni closed his eyes in relief.
“Suyodhana, ask him about Varanavata, about Durjaya,” Aswathama insisted.
“Nephew, hear me out,” Shakuni gasped. “I had nothing to do with Varanavata. It was Purochana.”
Aswathama darted forward and knocked Shakuni down. Karna stepped in and dragged the screaming Brahmin off the Gandharan. Shakuni hoped his people would keep calm and not react rashly. How long would they be able to stand by and watch their Prince grovelling before these cow-worshippers?
“King of Anga,” cried Shakuni, grabbing Karna’s feet, “have mercy! You won the South, you won Gandhara, there is no one your equal. Suyodhana will listen to what you say, please... “
Ekalavya knelt, his knees pressed on Shakuni’s spine. He pulled back Shakuni’s head by the hair, his dagger at the Gandhara Prince’s throat. Shakuni gulped in terror, clutching at Karna’s feet.
“Let him go, Nishada,” Karna barked.
“Are you ordering me?” Ekalavya glared at the Suta, pressing his dagger deeper.
“Let him go,” Suyodhana said.
Shakuni remained tense. The way the dagger was pressed to his throat, it seemed the Nishada might even defy the Crown Prince. Then the tension on his hair eased and the dagger moved away from his throat. Shakuni touched his forehead to Karna’s
feet. Karna lifted him up but turned away; he had never cared for the man.
Nevertheless, Shakuni folded his hands in seeming gratitude as Suyodhana came up to him. “Forgive your uncle, Suyodhana. I have always had your welfare in mind. I want you to sit on the throne of Hastinapura. I won the kingdom for you in the dice game and you repay me by sending your armies to ravish my land? Is that fair?”
“Don’t fall for it, Suyodhana,” Aswathama shouted from a distance.
‘The bloody Brahmin! If not for the ten warriors holding him back, he would have strangled me,’ thought Shakuni angrily. Any moment Suyodhana could change his mind. He should have killed Aswathama when he had had the chance.
Suyodhana wavered. Shakuni spoke his next piece. “Nephew, remember what your uncle has done for you. As soon as the game of dice was over, I thought the biggest threat to you was Durjaya - the devil was trying to destroy the country. I received information he had moved to Gandhara and I wanted to capture him for you. There was no time for goodbyes. I was in a hurry, and Athiratha, the respected father of His Highness Karna, was kind enough to saddle me a horse. I rushed here. But your impulsive Brahmin friend here followed me, thinking me to be a traitor. Can you imagine how painful that is for me after all that I have done for you, nephew?”
“Lying bastard!” Aswathama wriggled free from the men holding him and rushed towards Shakuni. He tried to punch the tall Gandharan but Suyodhana threw out an arm to stop his friend.
“It seems Aswathama is still angry with me. Poor Brahmin. I can understand his frustration. He was rotting in Hastinapura as an unimportant man and wanted to prove that he too is a warrior. He decided to attack my poor country and I had to save him from an avalanche. Why can he not accept there is no better warrior than Karna? Even this Nishada here would have become a great archer, had not Aswathama’s father cheated him of his destiny.” Shakuni paused and surveyed the effect of his words on the group of men. For the first time, Ekalavya looked shaken. Aswathama stood in stricken silence and Karna looked as if he wished he were somewhere else.
Shakuni was ready with his next move. “Gambling is a Kshatriya dharma. My only sin is that I loved my nephew more than myself. Suyodhana, do you not wish to ride back to Hastinapura with Durjaya in chains? Remember the death and destruction he wrought in Hastinapura. Do you not want him to pay for what he has done to your people?”
“Where is Durjaya?” Suyodhana said at last, weary to the bone.
Shakuni hurried off. He was no longer a supplicant begging for his life, he was the Prince of his people again. As he walked past, his soldiers stood with their heads bowed respectfully. Shakuni did not forget to pat each one as a gesture of gratitude.
The little group soon reached a cave where two soldiers stood guard. Shakuni gestured to them to bring out Durjaya. The guards emerged, dragging out the struggling man.
“Shakuni, you cheat! You betrayed me!” Durjaya screamed.
Suyodhana stepped forward, looking down in disgust at the grovelling man at his feet. He punched and kicked Durjaya till the thug lost consciousness. Shakuni smiled at his nephew’s unusual fury. When Suyodhana finally moved away, Shakuni followed, urging him to sit down on a nearby boulder. He took the precious stone he had shown Aswathama from the folds of his clothing and held it up for his nephew to see. The lustre of it startled Suyodhana and his eyes opened wide. Shakuni smiled.
“What is it?” Suyodhana asked in surprise.
“This is a small gift from your uncle for all the trouble he has caused - inadvertently of course!”
“I have no fancy for precious stones,” Suyodhana said, averting his eyes from the tempting beauty of the gem.
“I know, nephew, but you can always gift it to someone dear to you. Perhaps Karna, who has won you an empire, or to acknowledge the Nishada’s grit.”
“This stone is too precious.”
“I give it to you gladly, nephew.”
Suyodhana reluctantly took the stone in the palm of his hand. He could feel it burning his skin. He looked at Karna standing nearby. He knew Karna did not covet the stone, only his appreciation and friendship. The Nishada too, sat a little distance away with a derisive smile, chewing a blade of grass. He spat when Suyodhana looked at him in the face. He had no need of gems, only justice. Suyodhana knew he had rewarded them both. He had made Karna King of Anga and the Nishada King of the forest lands. The one person who had always stood by him without expecting anything in return, had been Aswathama. Suyodhana walked over to the Brahmin and took his hand in his own. Then he pressed the shining stone into the hard and calloused palm.
Shakuni looked at Karna, and then at the Nishada, and smiled.
*****
21 VICTORS AND THE
VANQUISHED
IT WAS A SECOND HOMECOMING for the Suta as the victorious army entered the capital city. People thronged to see the Kaurava army drag Durjaya through the streets in chains. Suyodhana and Karna threw fistfuls of coins into the crowd crazed with adulation. The streets shook with cries of Har Har Mahadeva! Yuyutsu, the richest man in the world, stood at the entrance of the palace, ready to welcome the victorious Prince and his warrior-friend. The merchant showered the heroes with exotic perfumes and flowers.
Bhishma waited for Suyodhana to come see him, but as the day and then the night passed, he was once again reminded of the bitter truth that he was no longer needed. He yearned for Vidhura’s company. He knew an era had ended and a new one had begun. He would have liked to advise Suyodhana to kill Durjaya, but the proud patriarch was unsure whether the Prince would respect his advice. He was no longer the Grand Regent, just a forgotten old man. Bhishma heard Karna’s voice in the palace garden and a pang of jealousy stabbed his heart. The more he fought it, the stronger it became. How did the Suta succeed in whatever he did?
***
Bhanumati waited in her chamber for her husband to come. She yearned for his touch, his comforting embrace, his smell, and for the serenity she had always felt when he held her close. Those were fading memories now, yet she cherished them. She had been hurt and angry when he had not even taken leave of her before departing for Gandhara, but anxiety had soon pushed back her anger. She had feared for his life. Whenever she heard the galloping of a horse on the Royal Highway, cold hands clutched at her heart. Praise be he had returned without injury.
Bhanumati rushed to the balcony, hoping to catch Suyodhana’s eye. She saw him riding in on a magnificent horse. He looked so happy in his own world – laughing, waving, throwing coins to the crowd and basking in the glory of victory. He did not look up. A smile would have been enough, even a tilt of the head, but it seemed that in Suyodhana’s world, no one existed except Karna and himself. Bhanumati gripped the railings of the balcony as her children jumped up and down in excitement at seeing their father. ‘Suyodhana, at least look at your children and give them a smile,’ she begged in her heart.
As if in answer to her prayers, a man in the Prince’s entourage waved to the children, his teeth a brilliant white against his dark face. It was Ekalavya, the Nishada whom her unpredictable husband had made a King. He was waving at her and the children. The audacity of the Nishada was galling. Who else would her husband befriend? Did he not care about the tongues wagging about his actions? She dragged the protesting children inside and closed the balcony door. She wanted to be alone.
Bhanumati did not know when she finally dozed off. She woke with a start and stretched out her hand, hoping to feel him near her. Already it was morning and she could hear the servants moving about outside. Why had he not come? Lakshmana stirred in her sleep and Bhanumati pulled up the coverlet her daughter had thrown off.
Had someone coughed outside? Bhanumati ran to open the door, her eyes alight with joyful expectation. A dark face stared back at her. She wanted to scream. How dared the Nishada come to pollute her space? How dared he come near the chambers of the Crown Prince?
But Ekalavya smiled and stepped back. Bhanumati stood beside the open door, uneasi
ly aware of the man’s presence outside her bedchamber. She was still searching for a suitable snub when Lakshmana woke, saw Ekalavya, and came running. The Nishada bowed low before the little Princess. To Bhanumati’s horror, her little daughter shrieked with joy and jumped into the dark man’s arms. Hearing the commotion, Lakshmana Kumara also awoke and joined in. Soon the three of them were rolling on the floor, laughing. Bhanumati wanted to prise them apart, call the guards and have the untouchable whipped, but she stood frozen, unable to move. She had suddenly seen a third eye burning like a coal in the centre of Ekalavya’s forehead. It was there and then it was gone, like an illusion. Yet she was certain she had seen it. The dark man was running with her children to the garden. Had she witnessed something beyond her understanding? Who was the Nishada, really?
***
In Drona’s home, Aswathama sat sulking. His father had not spoken a word to him since his return. It was almost as if Aswathama did not exist. Drona sat in meditation in his puja room. Aswathama whirled the copper tumbler his mother had placed near him with shaking hands, and a few drops of water from it splashed onto the floor.
Aswathama could not bear his father’s indifference a moment longer. “I have returned from Gandhara,” he said loudly and waited.
“Ask him where he got the precious stone he is wearing on his headcloth,” Drona said to Kripi. “Ask him why he has brought a stone of sin into this Brahmin’s home.”
Aswathama glared at his father. “It is a gift from my friend.”
Not looking at his son, Drona said to his wife, “Kripi, tell your son that it is loot from Gandhara. Tell him that a Brahmin should not soil his hands with such possessions. Any possession is sin for a Brahmin. Tell him that any attachment will lead to disaster and heartbreak.”
“Suyodhana gifted me the stone for my services.”