The Aryavarta Chronicles Kurukshetra: Book 3 (21 page)

‘It is two and a half akshauhini strong, to be precise. You see, I do not bring you to a dishonourable defeat, or to surrender in shame. Nor do I lead you to war, Dharma. I bring you here to make peace on your terms. You, and only you, will decide whether we fight or not. You have my word – I will not counter your decision. But don’t ever question my honesty or my intentions again.’

Dharma refused to be cowed down. ‘Where did so many come from, Govinda?’ he asked, his brows furrowed. ‘Virat’s army were barely one akshauhini, but it has now swollen twofold and more, and I am sure you are to thank for it. Mercenaries? Killers for hire? Or just robbers and rapists to whom you’ve promised pardons? How can I not question you? How can I, in all integrity as Emperor, not ask where these soldiers come from?’

‘They come from the same place where I once came from,
Your Highness
. These are the farmers and stone-cutters of Matsya. The nation’s true might lies in its forges, in the strength of the men and women who work those fires, and in the strength of those who till its fields and craft and build stone. With them are those I count my brethren – the simple gwalas and farmers of Dwaraka.’

‘But… but how did these Yadus not go to Syoddhan?’

‘Ah! Every man in Dwaraka is a fighting man but not all are soldiers by profession. Most have other trades but will rally to a cause as a matter of personal choice, as will our women.’

A silence followed, a tense mixture of awe and reluctance. Eventually, Bhim said, ‘They are not enough. Syoddhan still outnumbers us two to one. They are not enough.’

‘You’ll have more soldiers in two days,’ Govinda said, without meeting his gaze. ‘About two akshauhini from Kashi and the forest realms of Panchala and Kosala. Some Nagas, too, amongst them, I expect, led by Iravan of the mountain lands. Shikandin did not want to make a promise he could not keep, but not once have I known him to fail, leave alone break his promises.’

‘But Kashi…? Don’t tell me that Sudakshin…’

‘Sudakshin fights for Syoddhan, as do his armies. But like the Queen Mother of Kashi, a large number of Sudakshin’s people, his vassal lords included, believe in virtues beyond vengeance. They fight for themselves, for something more…’ Govinda trailed off, but before any of the others could ask him to explain, he added, ‘And before you ask – Don’t worry! The Matsyans already bring arms and equipment to fit twice their numbers. The people of Kashi’s regions have weapons of their own make, too. As it stands, we have six akshauhini divisions and then some. It’s a far cry from the less-than-four we had just days ago and certainly is more respectable against Syoddhan’s seven. Dharma, you rallied kings and warriors to your cause, men bound to fight for you in the name of duty. These soldiers,’ he nodded to the approaching force, ‘are the people of Aryavarta, they are commoners, as you would call them, come to fight for simple things such as right and wrong.’

Dharma said, ‘Against the Grandsire, Acharya Dron, Asvattama… there are countless accomplished fighters in Syoddhan’s army. What is the point of pitting common folk against trained and tried warriors with astra-weapons?’

‘You told me that your duty required you not only to protect all that is good, but also to guard evil from itself. It is why you came this far, Dharma. Have you changed your mind?’

‘I haven’t changed my mind, Govinda. I just can’t help but apply it. Even a child can see that your so-called army is nothing but a mob of farmhands and fishermen.’

‘I think,’ Govinda said, smiling, ‘that you’ll find every farmhand and fisherman, each gwala, twice the soldier you’d expect him to be. You see, there is one more advantage this army of commoners has that I have yet to mention.’

‘Which is?’

‘Warriors and kings do battle for duty and ambition, even greed. But all there is to fight for in this new age is freedom, freedom from the shackles of duty, freedom from destiny and Divine Order, the hierarchy that allows an emperor to wager the lives of others with impunity – be it at battle or at dice. No, Dharma, these people have come to fight for themselves. This is revolution.’

27

VASUSENA RAN HIS EYES OVER EVERY DETAIL HE COULD MAKE OUT
of the gathering mass of soldiers in the distance, from his vantage point on top of one of the hills that bound the plains of Kurukshetra. His gaze moved to the distant outline of a group of men on another peak – no doubt Dharma and his men surveying the approaching force with glee. Then he turned away, shaking his head in resignation, but his lack of comment held a clear message for Syoddhan:
I told you so
.

Not too long ago, Vasusena had proposed that they enroll and train those who he claimed were warriors in the own right – the guardsmen who protected each village, who safeguarded harvests and kine, and the swift and deadly hunters who inhabited the forests of Aryavarta. Of course, he had admitted, the fact remained that most of these men were not Arya by birth, but mere commoners, at best Suta-children of Arya fathers and slave or servant mothers. He had, however, argued that the time had come to admit that military prowess was its own redemption, particularly when such skill could change the course of the conflict in the offing. His eloquence had been convincing, and his example conclusive. No one could serve as a better instance for what could happen if his proposal were put into action than Vasusena himself: the son of a charioteer, and now the king of Anga and a renowned warrior.

Despite his passionate arguments, the idea had been rejected. Vasusena had then turned from arguing on principle to suggesting his recommendations be implemented as a matter of prudence. In private, he had told Syoddhan, ‘It is the only way. Do not underestimate the enemy; do not underestimate Govinda Shauri. He is not above turning to mercenaries or joining hands with some foreign power for his own purposes. And in all fairness, it is not uncommon – Jayadrath, your brother-in-law, is known to employ hired killers. Govinda is not a fool, Syoddhan. He would not march towards Indr-prastha without a plan. That is, if Indr-prastha is his true target.’

In retrospect, it turned out that Vasusena had been right on both counts. Whether or not Govinda had intended to capture Indrprastha, it was clear that he had not been taken aback by Syoddhan’s strategy of meeting the enemy head-on at Kurukshetra. That, and now this. An army of commoners. Overnight, Dharma’s forces had doubled in number, and Vasusena knew it did not lack for capable leaders. The assessment made him feel more grim, and he finally gave words to his ire. ‘I told you so,’ he said out loud.

Syoddhan ignored the rebuke, instead turning his own questioning glance to Asvattama, who shrugged. ‘You asked me how many warriors; I told you how many warriors. To that number I hold.’

‘And if I were to ask you now: How many men? Or wait! How many fighters? Tell me that: how many fighters? I won’t have you telling me tomorrow that you did not count women, or young men, or those you considered inferior by virtue of your oversized sense of superiority.
How many fighters?
’

‘I’d say six akshauhini. I cannot be sure, because I do not know what numbers come in from the east. I make my estimates given the soldiers Sudakshin has already brought us…’

‘The same way you estimated the size of Virat’s forces?’ Vasusena sneered. ‘I told you we should have done what Govinda now has. We should have enlisted all able men, warriors or not!’

Asvattama hissed, ‘It was not I who opposed the idea, Vasusena. Nor was it I who feared that an army of commoners would be only too glad to carry a charioteer’s son to glory – even see him to the Imperial throne.’

‘Why you!’

‘Vathu, both of you!’ Syoddhan intervened. ‘I doubt neither of your loyalties. As for opposing the idea…both of you will remember that it was put to our entire Council of War. The Grandsire…’

Vasusena let out an instinctive snarl at the mention of Bhisma, which made Syoddhan visibly uncomfortable. ‘My friend, I…’ he began, and then turned to Asvattama for help.

Asvattama showed no hesitation. He said, in his usual scathing manner. ‘It is not what the world thinks you are that bothers the Grandsire, Vasusena. It is what a few of us know you to be that bothers him.’

‘And what am I, if not a charioteer’s son?’

The question left a lull. Vasusena sat down on a nearby boulder. Asvattama maintained his expression of snide amusement, but his eyes showed quiet sympathy. This time, it was he who pleaded silently for assistance.

Syoddhan moved forward to lay a hand on Vasusena’s shoulder. ‘It doesn’t matter to me, my friend. Nor does it matter to Asvattama. We stood by you the day these kings and nobles said you could not be a warrior, that you could not be Arya. And, yet, look who you are and where you are now…Your Highness. What the Grandsire fears is… worse. He fears we may lose our legitimacy, our moral ground if the truth about you became known.’

‘Is that what he told you? Bhisma?’

‘Yes.’

‘He does not tell you the whole truth.’

‘Which is?’

‘Ask him yourself. For my part, my loyalty to you is absolute, Syoddhan, but I will not fight as long as Bhisma leads us. I cannot fight under the leadership of one who questions my ability and my intent, not to mention my integrity. Forgive me, my friend. I may be a charioteer’s son to the world, but through you, through your words and deeds, I’ve learnt that honour counts for something. I cannot fight while Bhisma commands us.’ With that, Vasusena walked off, making his way down the hillside and towards their camp.

Syoddhan watched him as he walked away, and then turned to Asvattama. ‘Have him followed.’ he said.

‘But… No, Syoddhan. This is not the time for distrust. It will weaken you, weaken us. Vasusena has always been loyal to you…’

‘As have you? You vouch for his loyalty? You’ve never had enough of putting him down.’

‘Perhaps I’ve changed. War does that to a man.’

‘We are not yet at war.’

‘The prospect of war, then. And you know I am not the only one. Much as your grand-uncle hates Vasusena, he has allowed him to grow to be a force to reckon with. Not to mention that Vasusena is amongst your closest friends. Did you not wonder why? If the Grandsire had truly wanted Vasusena out of the way, would that have been impossible for him to achieve?

‘No. What you say is true. My grand-uncle believes that a man you don’t want as your enemy ought to become your friend at the least, and your brother in all but blood if that is possible. I have not disputed the principle because it served my ends…just as it served yours.’

Asvattama drew himself up to his full, staggering height. ‘If you wish me to speak my mind on this matter…’

‘I do!’

‘Then, look to those who tell you not to trust. Suspicion is a poison that slowly burns away the mind. Look to those who sow the seeds of suspicion in you, the ones who urge you to be cautious beyond need…’

‘Like you? You insist that I follow your advice, though it will send Devala away from the battlefield, from our side, at this crucial juncture? Do you really know what you’re suggesting, Asvattama?’

‘All I know is that it does not take my father’s instructions to be loyal to you. As for Devala…it is no petty task I ask you to send him on. If he is successful the entire course of events will turn in our favour.’

Syoddhan’s confused expression changed into a frown. He willed his face into evenness and said, as though it were unconnected to the matter at hand, ‘Have Vasusena followed, Asvattama. Don’t make me order you. It is not a situation both of us would enjoy. Go.’

Asvattama took a step in compliance, then another. Then he turned to Syoddhan, his implacable mask once again in place. ‘There’s very little that remains to be enjoyed from here on, Syoddhan. Don’t waste your commands on those who serve you out of free will.’ He walked away, following the path Vasusena had taken.

Alone on the crest of the hill, Syoddhan watched as their enemy’s mighty force approached.

28

THE SUN
’
S FIRST RAYS WERE A WARM GLOW ON THE HORIZON
. Vasusena smiled despite his worries. He always found the dawn soothing, reassuring, for he supposed that the otherwise impossible golden darkness was not unlike being inside a mother’s womb. In that instant he could forget that he stood on the edge of an enormous battlefield, on the banks of a river that shimmered red in a sign of things to come, for the day had just begun and anything was possible. Yet, the lightness in his heart lasted but briefly, for as the sun’s brightness breached the edge of the world, he was bathed in the harsh rays of reality, as always.

The first time he had heard of his father, his father by blood, not the loving man who had reared him, Vasusena had not undertood the true meaning of those veiled words. ‘A young man with the effulgence of the sun,’ had been the exact phrase. He did not fully remember who had spoken them, or where, for he had been a child, nor had they seemed to hold significance. After all, the kingdoms of the east, Anga included, lived by the sun, and revered and worshipped it as a deity. It was only when he had sought out the Bhargava clan of Firewrights to learn to wield arms with skill – an act of youthful rebellion – that he had heard those veiled words again, and so realized: his father had been a Firewright. But not even his teacher, Bhargava Rama, had been able to give him a clue to the final mystery of his birth, and over the years Vasusena had learnt to make his peace with not knowing the name of the woman who had borne him in her womb. Until now.

After all this time, the temptation had presented itself, and from an unexpected quarter.

‘Thank you for coming,’ Govinda’s voice was a timely intrusion on Vasusena’s thoughts. The Anga king grunted in response. Emotion, not reason, had brought him here.

‘I’ll be quick,’ Govinda continued. ‘Your father’s allegiance, if not his individual identity, is known to you. You must have often wondered how it remained possible for your mother to conceal your birth, your Firewright father notwithstanding. And it could well have occurred to you already that she was a noblewoman of some importance…’