AJAYA - RISE OF KALI (Book 2) (24 page)

“She is asking who you are,” Karna said, looking away, his mind a tangle of conflicting emotions.

“I am Suyodhana, notoriously known as Duryodhana,” the Crown Prince replied.

An uneasy silence fell. A few women who had come out of their huts to see what was happening, pulled their children back inside. The men, too, hurried back to their huts, fear writ large on their faces.

The old woman looked deep into Suyodhana’s eyes. She turned to the fleeing villagers and raised her voice. “They told us lies. This Kshatriya has treated us as human beings. For us, this man is
dharma.”

The villagers returned slowly to form a circle around Suyodhana and his friends. As the animated discussion and arguments grew louder around them, Suyodhana asked Karna what the ruckus was all about.

“They wish to build a temple in your honour,” Karna said unsteadily, “and worship you.”

“What?” Suyodhana laughed aloud. “Worship me? Are they mad?”

But Karna could see his friend was pleased. Suyodhana made a token protest and said they should build a Shiva temple instead, but it was evident he was relishing the thought of having a temple dedicated to him. Was every rebellious act by him an unconscious attempt to be known as a good man?

Aswathama offered the toddy to Karna, his eyes shining with challenge. As he lifted the pot to his mouth, Karna felt he would gag from the pungent smell. His entire struggle to be accepted as a Kshatriya would come to naught if news of this spread. What he had struggled for his whole life would mean nothing if he lost his caste and became an untouchable. What a fall... even for a Suta! Closing his eyes, he took a sip. The toddy tasted sweet in his mouth. As he traced its scorching trail to his stomach, the sound of the crowd receded into the distance. By Guru Parashurama’s definition, Karna was no longer a Kshatriya, or even a Suta. He had lost his caste. Strangely, he felt free. It did not matter. The only thing that counted was the firmness of Suyodhana’s hand on his shoulder.

Around him, the villagers had come to an agreement. A temple was to be built. A cool breeze wafted in from the brackish backwaters and Karna relished the caress of the setting sun. He wished Suyodhana’s adventure to the South would end and he would be spared further embarrassment. As if in answer to his prayers, a messenger came rushing to meet the Crown Prince. They were summoned back to Hastinapura immediately. A disastrous event had taken place.

*****

25
   
T
HE
P
ROPOSAL

WHEN THE CROWN PRINCE KEPT HIS WORD
and made Jayadratha Grand Regent until he returned from the South, his brother-in-law had felt smug. He had brought Sushala and his son, Suratha, with him to Hastinapura. The boy was twelve but showed no talent for arms. Sushala yearned to see her son become a great warrior but Jayadratha, with a father’s insight, did not harbour much hope of his son growing to be a warrior-ruler. He knew that unless he himself did something to please Suyodhana and extract a larger territory to rule than the small vassal state of Sindhudesa, his dynasty would remain insignificant among the great kingdoms of Bharatavarsha.

Jayadratha had been born after many years of prayer. But by then his father had become too world weary to undertake adventures of expansion. By the time Jayadratha attained manhood, the expanding Hastinapura empire had swallowed Sindhudesa among others and their exalted dynasty, which traced its lineage to Lord Vishnu himself, had become rulers of an insignificant vassal state under Bhishma. Jayadratha gained some importance by marrying the only Princess of the Kuru dynasty, but the feeling of unworthiness never left him. Sushala, with her constant comparison of the riches of her father to the insignificance of Sindhudesa, did nothing to help assuage his wounded pride. But if he made the right moves he might be able to persuade Suyodhana to hand over to him the neighbouring vassal kingdoms. And who knew what the future held? Perhaps his boy would have grown up to surprise him. If the war between the cousins took place one day and the empire weakened, he could perhaps turn things around. Hastinapura as a vassal state of Sindhudesa was a refreshing thought.

Despite his dreams of grandeur, Jayadratha was not a popular King among his subjects. His father, now almost eighty years old, had carefully spread the rumour of a boon he had received from Lord Shiva himself when he had relinquished the throne in favour of his son – If anyone killed Jayadratha, the moment his head touched the earth, his killer would die. The Sutas of Sindhu added spice to the story and soon the superstitious population began believing that if Jayadratha was killed and his head hit the ground, his killer’s head would explode into a thousand pieces. It was one of the things that prevented a coup in Sindhudesa. Jayadratha in his turn spread the story of a boon he had obtained – that no Pandava other than Arjuna could defeat him.

It had been three days since he had taken over as Grand Regent but he had not had the inclination to visit Bhishma, who had adorned the revered position for so many years. The chamber of the Grand Regent was much grander than his own royal chambers in Sindh, thought Jayadratha bitterly as he viewed the luxurious appointments of the room – the twelve-foot-high oil lamp made of silver, with the exquisite carving of a peacock, had glistening emeralds for eyes; the visitors’ chairs carved in ivory made his throne in Sindhudesa look like a child’s playroom furniture; the curtains glistened with gold lace; the carpet stretched in luxurious smoothness; the fragrance of exotic oils and scents that permeated the air – it all made him mad with jealousy and anger. No wonder Sushala made unfavourable comparisons about Sindhudesa.

‘All this is looted wealth,’ Jayadratha told himself. How he wished it all belonged to him, but he knew he was no match for Hastinapura. However, if he could please Suyodhana, he could get lucky. He had six months to prove himself. He was a man in a hurry. He tried to think of a plan that would call on Suyodhana’s famed generosity, but nothing came to his disturbed mind.

A guard came in and bowed to the new Grand Regent. He said the Prince of Gandhara sought permission to see him. Ah, Shakuni! Jayadratha’s mind leapt with pride. Though he despised the Gandharan, it fed his ego to be thus waited on by one who ruled a much vaster and richer territory than Sindhudesa. Jayadratha had Shakuni wait until the palace gong sounded the passing of the next
prahar
before permitting him to enter. He did not speak for some time, pretending to be busy reading various palm leaves and barking instructions, as Shakuni stood with head bowed in deep reverence. When he was satisfied he had shown Shakuni his place, Jayadratha offered him a seat. Shakuni declined, saying that vassal Kings never sat before the Grand Regent of Hastinapura. Pleased, Jayadratha persuaded Shakuni to sit down.

“Not that I cherish this added responsibility, Shakuni, but I have my hands full with ruling Sindh. But we must help Suyodhana.”

“Oh, I know it is a great burden that you carry, revered Sindhu Raja, but no one deserves to sit in this chair more than you. It is not like olden times when vassal Kings had to beg and crawl before a mean old man. Now we have someone who understands our problems. The Kings of Magadha, Mithila and others, were expressing relief that you have taken over. It is not that Suyodhana is not generous, but the post of Grand Regent has remained vacant after Lord Bhishma relinquished it and you know my nephew is always partial to that Suta. Anga gets the best of everything.”

“I will be just and impartial as long as I hold the post.”

“I know that and I came to pay my respects. By the way, would your Excellency care to have me report to you on the movements of the Pandavas, if it will not burden your busy schedule? I was in charge of the espionage network of Hastinapura and...”

“Oh, certainly. What are they doing now?” Jayadratha sat forward, trying to keep his eagerness from showing on his face.

“In fact, they have gone in search of secret weapons and alliances, leaving Draupadi behind. Only Guru Dhaumya and a few of his disciples remain with her.”

“What of her five sons?”

“The Pandavas have taken the boys with them.”

An idea started forming in Jayadratha’s head. Draupadi was alone in the forest. He had attended Draupadi’s
swayamvara,
but had not even had the chance to try his skill. He was so insignificant a King that the Magadhan who had announced each of the Kings had hardly said a word about him. Karna had been in love with her. Jayadratha had joined Suyodhana and Aswathama in making fun of Karna and his feelings for Draupadi. He had thought the Suta would win her, but she had insulted him instead and a fight had broken out. Finally she had married Arjuna, and then his four brothers as well. In his heart, Jayadratha had always lusted over Draupadi’s beauty. A woman who married five men could not be said to be chaste. Her audacity in her laughing at Suyodhana and insulting Karna made her even more appealing to Jayadratha. They had not insulted her enough in the Sabha on the day of the dice game.

Shakuni read the thoughts flashing over Jayadratha’s face like an open book. “Your Majesty, I do not know whether I am crossing a line by saying this, but a great King like you should have married Draupadi, and not those poor and broken Pandavas. Princess Draupadi deserved better.”

Jayadratha stared at Shakuni, his eyes narrowed. His mind was in turmoil.

“I am sure she would be willing to listen to your offer.”

The burning in his loins found voice in his mind. What if he asked her to satisfy him? If she resisted, he could take her somewhere, perhaps to Sindh, and keep her in his harem. It would not be the first time a King had taken the woman he wanted, nor would it be the last. Perhaps she would even agree to be his wife, or he could bargain with the Pandavas for her release. He was sure Suyodhana hated her and would support him in any scheme that shamed the Pandavas. Now that he had the imperial army under his control, the Pandavas would not dare question him. And if Suyodhana behaved irrationally, well, it was he who had control of the imperial army.

“Can you take me to the
ashram?”
Jayadratha said, his hands quivering with nervous tension.

“Allow me the honour of making the arrangements, Maharajan.”

The foreigner bowed and hurried out. Maharajan – it pleased Jayadratha to be addressed so. He ran his fingers over the rounded carvings of the handrests of his chair. Draupadi... at last.

***

Shakuni hurried to his chamber. The man waiting outside bowed. The Gandharan pulled out a small bag that jingled with coins and dropped it into the extended hands of the man.

“Hurry,” Shakuni said, “search for the Pandavas and tell them at the right moment what Jayadratha did to Draupadi.”

The man bowed and walked out. Shakuni watched him walk past the main gate of the palace and smiled. He had rolled the dice and could hardly wait for the result.

***

“Shall I wring his neck, brother?” Bhima asked Yudhishtra as he tightened his grip on Jayadratha’s neck.

Jayadratha’s eyes bulged and his fingers clawed at the mud in which he lay face downward. Bhima towered over him, his knees pressing painfully into Jayadratha’s back.

Draupadi laughed scornfully. “Oh, not so quickly.”

Yudhishtra stood looking at the face of the man who had dared grab Draupadi’s hands while she was bathing. When a distraught tribal had told them, gasping and panting, that Jayadratha had abducted Draupadi, he had not believed it. Jayadratha was their cousin Sushala’s husband; whatever their differences with Suyodhana, all the Pandavas were fond of their little sister. Bhima had not waited for permission before rushing off with his other brothers. Yudhishtra had been forced to join them. He did not want to face Draupadi’s accusations in case the tribal’s story was true.

“I am sorry. Let me go now...” Jayadratha pleaded, every sign of arrogance and hauteur having long fled.

Draupadi laughed. The shrill sound frightened the birds in the trees. Why did she laugh in that way, wondered Yudhishtra, as he remembered the proud but demure Princess they had taken home to Kunti. Jayadratha groaned again as Bhima pressed on his spine.

“It is better we cut off his head.” Arjuna pulled out his sword and walked over to where Jayadratha lay grovelling in the mud.

“No. Free him,” Yudhishtra said quietly, knowing the others would vociferously disagree with him.

“Free him?” Draupadi’s eyebrows arched in mocking surprise. “Oh, that is how the men of the Kuru dynasty deal with men who misbehave with their women. I had forgotten that it runs in the family. Pitamaha abducted women for...”

“Enough!” Yudhishtra said, his voice like iron. “Not another word from you about Pitamaha or anyone else, Draupadi!”

“Of course, I am a woman and not allowed to speak. They strip me in the Sabha and you all quote scriptures and remain silent. This villain tries to abduct me and you let him go free because he is your dear cousin’s husband. But I should feel honoured to be the bride of the Kurus, who consider women Goddesses.”