THE CURSE OF BRAHMA Page 25

  Rabhu cowered in fear. Words refused to come out of his mouth and he was barely able to nod his head in understanding.

  ‘Now get out of my sight,’ Jarasandha snarled.

  As Rabhu hastily turned to leave, Jarasandha called after him, ‘And remember my friend…Ugrasena might forgive your betrayal if you tell him what happened. But I will find you out from the deepest corner of Mrityulok and cut you into a thousand pieces if you betray me!’

  Rabhu nodded and rushed out of the palace, the scroll containing the letter clutched in his hand. He wanted to put as much distance between him and Magadha as was possible.

  ‘You gave the letter to Kansa?’ Ugrasena questioned Rabhu when they were alone in the King’s personal chambers.

  ‘Yes, My Lord. I personally handed it over to the prince,’ Rabhu hoped his voice sounded firm. Despite the long ride from Magadha, the dread of Jarasandha was still starkly vivid in his mind.

  ‘Hmm!’ Ugrasena murmured to himself. ‘And how did the prince look? Did he seem well?’

  Rabhu wondered what reply he should give. ‘He seemed well enough, My Lord.’ He seemed to hesitate. ‘He read the letter and then asked me to wait while he wrote a reply for you.’

  Ugrasena did not seem to notice that the messenger’s voice quivered unnaturally as he spoke the last sentence. Nor did he observe the shifting of his feet or the other symptoms that should have told him something was wrong. He was excited that Kansa had sent him a reply and was eager to dismiss the messenger and read the letter in peace.

  ‘Thank you, Rabhu. You have served me well in this,’ Ugrasena said and took off his necklace and handed it as a gift to the messenger. ‘Go rest now; you must be exhausted!’

  Rabhu accepted the gift quietly. It was far more valuable than the few gold coins he had sold his soul for, to Jarasandha. But it wasn’t the value of the gift that made him question his principles, perhaps for the first time in his life. Even in the excitement of receiving the letter he thought his son had sent him, Ugrasena had still shown consideration for Rabhu. Very few people would do that…and definitely not a king! Rabhu thought to himself. Oh God, what have I done? He castigated himself for having betrayed his king.

  For a brief moment, he hesitated at the door. He wanted to confess to Ugrasena his betrayal. He wanted to tell the king that the letter he was holding in his hands was not from the prince but most likely a forgery done by Jarasandha. But in that instant, he recalled with trepidation the final words of Jarasandha—‘Ugrasena might forgive your betrayal if you tell him what happened. But I will find you out from the deepest corner of Mrityulok and cut you into a thousand pieces if you betray me!’ And with the memory of that warning threatening to suffocate him, he found he just didn’t have enough courage to tell the truth to Ugrasena. He bowed to the king and left the room. The last thing he saw was Ugrasena lovingly extracting the letter from the scroll and beginning to read…

  Pitashree,

  As I go through your letter, I am struck by a few things, and I wonder how I did not realize the extent of your selfishness even when I left home.

  You claim you loved me since I was a child, but you also stress the fact that I am not your son by blood. Furthermore, you appear to be burdened by too much sadness that in taking care of me, you couldn’t give enough love to your other children—those sons and daughters that were born to you of your own blood!

  However, what strikes me most about your letter is that you didn’t call me back because of some newfound love for me, but because you want me to return to fight a bunch of asura assassins.

  It’s interesting that you don’t want any of your blood children to fight these so-called deadly invaders; possibly because you do not want to risk their precious lives, whereas it is easy to risk mine.

  At the end of your letter, I observe that you do not call your son back, but the commander-in-chief of the Madhuvan army.

  My answer therefore to you is this—ask one of your precious children to protect your motherland; assuming that any of those weaklings can actually lift a sword to defend even themselves. Maybe then you will realize that there is no Madhuvan without Kansa.

  I wish you and your children the best in what you need to do.

  Kansa

  Ugrasena stifled a moan as he finished reading the letter for the second time. He couldn’t believe Kansa had sent this reply to him in response to the loving letter he had written. He has twisted everything I wrote, Ugrasena thought with anguish. He read the letter a third time. And slowly but perceptibly his grief turned to anger as he read and re-read the provocative words etched on paper. The royal rage mounted as he read the last line—‘I wish you and your children the best in what you need to do.’ In one sentence, Kansa had estranged himself from the entire family.

  Ugrasena took a deep breath. His mind was made. He took a sheet of royal stationery and began to write a brief reply for Kansa.

  ‘You called me, My Lord?’ Airawat stood at attention as he entered Ugrasena’s chambers.

  ‘Yes,’ Ugrasena replied in a tired voice. ‘I want you to leave for Bateshwar immediately. Tell Prince Vasudev that I want him to come to Madhuvan at once.’

  Ugrasena paused. He knew his next words would be especially tough on Airawat. ‘Tell Vasudev he will be leading the Madhuvan task force against the asura assassins.’

  Airawat blanched. ‘But, My Lord…Prince Kansa?’

  ‘The prince will not be returning to Madhuvan for some time Airawat,’ Ugrasena said quietly.

  Airawat stared uncomprehendingly at his king. ‘Won’t be returning to Madhuvan? But how is that possible? Haven’t you told him the danger we are in?’ Airawat’s voice rose unintentionally as he strove to understand the meaning behind Ugrasena’s words.

  ‘I have told him everything. He has still decided to forsake his family…and his country,’ Ugrasena snapped uncharacteristically.

  Airawat bent his head in grief. He had not had any doubt that Kansa would return to Madhuvan as soon as he knew what was happening here. But it seemed the prince ascribed more value to his rift with his father than he did to his love for the motherland. ‘When do you want me to leave for Bateshwar?’ he said in a monotone.

  ‘Right away!’ Ugrasena commanded. ‘And send Rabhu to me. He needs to carry a letter back to Kansa today itself.’

  Airawat nodded and left the room. He couldn’t believe Kansa had forsaken them in their hour of greatest peril. He hoped this was not a portent of worse things to happen in the future.

  Ugrasena watched the retreating figure of Airawat. He rolled the letter for Kansa and inserted it in the royal scroll. He hoped Rabhu felt rested enough to make another trip to Magadha, today itself.

  Rabhu handed over the latest letter from Ugrasena to Jarasandha. He was half-dead from the exhaustion of making another trip to Magadha, without a break; Ugrasena had insisted that he leave immediately with the letter.

  Jarasandha took the letter from Rabhu’s hand. He extended his hand to give the messenger a purse laden with gold coins as payment for his services. Rabhu did not make any move to accept the reward.

  ‘What’s the matter with you, you scoundrel?’ Jarasandha roared in anger. ‘This payment isn’t enough for you now? Being greedy are we?’ he snarled threateningly.

  Rabhu shook his head. He felt strangely detached from the situation. It was a moment of truth for him. All these years, he had been selling out vital information to Jarasandha and the king of Magadha terrified him, like he did everybody else. But right now, Rabhu did not feel afraid of anyone, not even Jarasandha. He hadn’t felt this way when he was riding back to Magadha with Ugrasena’s latest letter in his possession. He had simply thought this was the last time he would serve Jarasandha. But now that he was face to face with the king of Magadha, he felt a strength he had never known before. He knew he could have pleaded exhaustion and requested Ugrasena to send someone else with this letter. But there was a high possibility that whoever else Ugrasena would have sent
to Magadha might have also been in Jarasandha’s pay.

  ‘You have given me enough in the past, My Lord,’ Rabhu said softly. ‘You don’t need to pay me for this service.’

  Jarasandha looked disbelievingly at Rabhu. Birds don’t change their feathers, he mused to himself. Why is this man not accepting compensation for this job? He shook his head in consternation. But he decided to keep a close watch over the messenger while he was in Magadha.

  ‘I am not going to offer you this money again,’ he said gruffly. ‘Have you changed your mind?’ Rabhu shook his head. ‘No, My Lord. As I said earlier, I don’t want any payment for this.’

  ‘Get out of my sight then and wait till I summon you,’ Jarasandha snapped impatiently. He wanted to read the letter quickly to see what it contained; and to gauge whether he would need to call Upadha to forge yet another letter for Ugrasena on Kansa’s behalf.

  Rabhu bowed to Jarasandha and left for the waiting quarters reserved for messengers, presumably to linger for Jarasandha’s summons till the king was ready to call him again. But he had no intention to wait there. He wanted to look for Kansa to tell him the truth of Jarasandha’s betrayal. He realized Jarasandha would kill him for this, but the feeling of detachment he had been experiencing lately seemed to keep the panic at bay.

  Jarasandha hastily pulled out the letter from the scroll. He couldn’t wait to read Ugrasena’s response to the forged note he had sent on behalf of Kansa. His face lit up as he read the letter from Madhuvan. I won’t even need to alter this, he thought with malevolent glee. The reply Ugrasena had sent for Kansa would sever the father-son relationship completely.

  He carefully placed the letter back into its scroll and resealed the lid. Then, humming a tune under his breath, he went in search of Kansa. He couldn’t wait to see his brother-in-law’s reaction to the letter.

  Airawat gaped in admiration as he reached the outskirts of the Kingdom of Bateshwar. The last village he crossed ended half a yojana (four miles) before the main city started. The road leading from this village up to the gates of Bateshwar was cobbled and was extremely narrow. Airawat guessed the width of the road was no more than one-and-a-half gavuta (nine feet). Normally, the road leading up to any city’s gate was almost always broad and expansive, in order to give visitors a sense of largeness. The military commander in Airawat understood however, why Bateshwar had purposely kept this road so narrow. Any enemy attempting to attack the main city would find it hard to bring the full force of their army into the city at one time.

  The road was so narrow that it would make it impossible for more than four cavalrymen to ride alongside. And the cobbled road would render it difficult for the horses to move fast. The horses and their riders would make ridiculously easy targets for Bateshwar soldiers mounted on top of the city gates.

  The gates themselves were a sight to behold. They stood at a majestic height of ten gavutas (sixty feet) and were intricately carved with figures of Shiva and Vishnu in various martial postures. The depth of the gates was almost half a gavuta and they were made of saag wood, considered even tougher than iron. It would have been impossible for any battering ram to break through this barrier to the city. Airawat wondered what mechanism Bateshwar had in place to operate the opening and shutting of such massive gates. He made a mental note to check this before he left the city. As he rode closer to the gates, he noticed the guards standing at the entrance grow perceptibly alert. Their hands were placed lightly on the handle of their swords even though they kept them sheathed. Airawat had to consciously restrain himself from reaching for his own sword. The atmosphere at the gates seemed charged with tension. A large man, presumably the captain of the guards, approached him even before Airawat had dismounted.

  ‘Identify yourself before you dismount, traveller.’ The captain was polite but there was a taut note in his voice that bordered on curtness.

  Airawat felt the first stirrings of irritation. He wanted to meet Vasudev and return to Madhuvan as soon as he could. The excess security and the barely concealed curtness of the captain made him impatient. He took out his passport and personal ID papers identifying him as the cavalry commander of Madhuvan and handed it over to the captain.

  The captain’s eyebrows shot up as he saw the documents. When he spoke, his voice was gentler than it had been earlier, ‘My name is Hitarth, and I am captain of the guards. I apologize for holding you up, Commander Airawat. But I will need to have these documents verified before I can allow you to enter. Also, I will need to know the purpose of your visit to Bateshwar.’

  It was Airawat’s turn to raise his eyebrows. He felt his instincts go on high alert. It was customary for documents of even senior visiting officers to be checked at the city gates of any kingdom, but the security officers would do that after they had at least allowed the visiting officer to dismount and sit in the waiting room. This kind of behaviour was unprecedented. But Airawat was a man who respected processes, and if this was how things happened at Bateshwar, he would play along. He wondered, however, what had happened to warrant such tight security.

  ‘I have come to meet Prince Vasudev on a matter of great urgency,’ Airawat said quietly. ‘You can verify this directly with the prince, Captain Hitarth. Meanwhile, I will wait here till you check my documents.’

  Captain Hitarth gave a smart salute to Airawat and turned back towards the entrance gate. Airawat saw him pass his documents to someone on the other side of the city gateway, through a small opening. ‘Run this through the lab for me, and make it double quick,’ he snapped the instructions to a guard on the inner side of the city walls.

  ‘Give me a few minutes, sir,’ a voice replied from the other side.

  Airawat looked in surprise at the source of the voice. He couldn’t fathom how the voice could be heard so clearly on this side, through the thick wooden partition. He looked closely at the gates. He was able to see a small box perched at shoulder level, just above the opening where the captain had passed the documents to the other side. It seemed like a contraption through which guards on either side of the city walls could communicate with each other. Ingenious, reflected Airawat to himself.

  Captain Hitarth paced impatiently as he waited for Airawat’s documents to be verified by the lab on the other side. There was a crackling sound from the box mounted on the gate and the voice of the guard from the other side could be heard clearly, ‘The documents are fine captain.’ In the next instant, the papers were returned through the same opening.

  Captain Hitarth whispered something through the box that Airawat couldn’t hear. Before he could figure out what was happening, the mammoth gates of Bateshwar started to open. The captain mounted his own horse and moved in Airawat’s direction. ‘Once again, my apology for holding you up, Commander Airawat, but it was necessary to do the verification.’

  Airawat nodded absent-mindedly. All he wanted now was to meet Vasudev and convey Ugrasena’s message to him.

  ‘Follow me, commander. The Prince is with the commander-in-chief right now. He has asked for you to be taken to him immediately.’ About time! Airawat mumbled to himself, as he goaded his horse to keep pace with the captain of the guards.

  Airawat couldn’t help being impressed by the architecture of the city. Bateshwar was different from any other city he had seen in bharat, or any other land in Mrityulok. The capital city seemed to have been built at three levels.

  At the lowermost level, there were the pit-dwellings. These were constructed at a depth of eight gavutas (forty-eight feet) below ground level and extended over the entire breadth of the city. It was like having a second city under the main one. Pit-dwellings had houses that were kept vacant during peace time but could be used to shelter women and children in the unfortunate event of an enemy breaching the city walls. They were akin to a veritable city with their own roads and provisions for medical treatment and emergency supplies. Architects and city planners had constructed air ducts at vantage points to allow a constant supply of fresh air into the pits. The pit-
dwellings had not been used since they were built, as the city walls had never been breached. The city council, however, ensured that the lower level of the capital city was kept clean and tested for efficacy in the event of an unforeseen emergency.

  The ground level of the city comprised the lion’s share of the population. The drainage systems were the same as in other kingdoms of Bharat. The only difference was that there was not a single sewer or drain that was left uncovered. A row of immaculately pruned hedges extended on all sides of the expansive streets. Flowers of different varieties adorned the sidewalks. What was interesting was that all houses seemed to have been built almost similarly. The basic architecture remained the same, even if some houses were bigger than the rest. A majority of the population, including the traders, the workmen and the warriors, resided at this level within the city.

  As Airawat’s mount cantered behind the captain of the guards, the cavalry commander of Madhuvan couldn’t help noticing a steep road leading up a hill. This was the road Captain Hitarth chose to take as Airawat followed close on his heels. It was impossible to see what lay on top of the hill as the road veered every now and then. After a ride that lasted for a few minutes, the climb gradually became gentler and more linear. Airawat almost stopped in his tracks as his gaze fell on the scene in front of him. The third level of the city was constructed on top of the hill. Even before they reached the pinnacle, he noticed heavily fortified encampments on the sides of the knoll. Even though it was impossible to see inside the encampments, he guessed they were occupied by hundreds of armed soldiers. Gradually, the fortified encampments gave way to larger, more aesthetic dwellings which Airawat guessed were the residences of the ministers and senior officials of the court. These too were fortified, but despite the natural security provided by the architecture, each of these residences had a group of soldiers stationed outside for good measure. In most cases, there were two to three platoons outside each residence.