The Aryavarta Chronicles Kurukshetra: Book 3 (30 page)

‘So, an eventful day…’ Dharma began. ‘But we’ve held our own well. Good work, Partha…’

Govinda said nothing, but an irate Partha stormed out of the tent. A hushed exchange took place outside, followed by the crunch of gravel as Partha walked away, Yuyudhana with him.

In a belligerent tone, Dharma asked Govinda, ‘That speech you gave Partha yesterday… I’ve been wondering, what was it you told him?’

‘I thought you caught most of it. After all, you agreed with him that we ought to fight on.’

‘I caught you saying that we could win, or so I thought. And if Partha, the best warrior amongst us agrees with that estimation, so do I. To surrender when victory is imminent would be dishonourable! Indeed, I thought you said something along those lines…I heard you speak of duty and reason and compassion…did I not?’

‘You did. What I said was…’

‘Never mind… Just go calm Partha down. I would not be surprised if, sooner or later, Syoddhan came asking for peace on our terms. They know now we are not cowards, nor is our courage to be overcome by numbers. Soon, they will also understand the power of righteousness. It won’t be long…’ Dharma concluded. With a meaningful glance at Govinda, he began removing his unblemished armour.

Govinda understood what Dharma wanted and why. He came forward to help, as if he were little more than a common attendant.

Panchali finally turned to them. She got to her feet and addressed Dharma, now in his clean and immaculately white robes. ‘If there’s nothing else Dharma, I’m tired. I think I’ll go to my tent now.’

‘Stay, Panchali,’ Dharma ordered, with a meaningful smile. ‘Stay here with me tonight.’

Panchali mutely complied, making her way to stand by Dharma’s bed. She could not bring herself to meet Govinda’s eyes as he wished her and Dharma a good night and left. She suspected that Govinda was grateful for that.

3

SEVEN DAYS LATER SYODDHAN
’
S SURRENDER WAS NOWHERE IN
sight; neither was his defeat. Dharma’s optimism, however, remained strong.

Govinda walked into the Command Tent at the end of the eighth day of battle to find Dharma in the middle of discussing battle plans for the next morning. Nearly every person who was allowed to be present at the meeting, from the silent spectator Dhaumya to the wide-eyed Kshatradharman, was there. Dhrstyadymn hovered near Dharma, glowering at his brother-in-law, clearly not pleased with the proceedings.

‘…the elephants,’ Dharma was saying. He continued, his tone filled with approval, ‘Bhim, you fought bravely today. The sight of you standing there as those elephants rushed at you – By Rudra, I cannot get it out of my mind. But, valour aside, such risks are unnecessary. It’s too dangerous to face elephants that way. Leave them to the archers and spearmen.’

‘But,’ Bhim protested, ‘that was exactly the problem. Bhagadatta’s elephants are well-trained and well protected in their armour. Our arrows and spears only wound them and infuriate them further. Men were being lost to their tusks and under their feet – our men. Every single day, the elephants have broken through the head of our formation.’

‘But that is the point! That is our strategy! While Bhagadatta and Bhisma are distracted with trying to break through the front, we are able to counter them from the flanks. Look…’

Dharma moved to the large table and shuffled through the maps and parchments laid out on it. Pulling out one of them, he turned to the others. ‘Four days ago, if you remember, Bhisma deployed his forces in the eagle formation. He led the attack himself, as the beak, so to say, supported by Asvattama and Kritavarman as the bird’s eyes. Others provided a further line of support – the head. But where was Syoddhan? He formed part of the bird’s back. The back, can you imagine! It doesn’t get more defensive than that. We could have won the war that day. Unfortunately, Commander Dhrstyadymn here, along with our dear brother Partha, decided that the appropriate counter formation was the half-moon.’

Dhrstyadymn said, ‘It was either that or another eagle formation.

We could have also formed a garuda-bird and let the two enemy lines break on each other…’

‘Yes! Yes! Exactly.’

‘But for that, Dharma, we’d have needed our best warriors centre and front. On your command, Partha, Bhim, Yuyudhana, myself – we were all in the middle array or in the flanks. I had no choice but to call back the Matsya and Kashi infantry from the lead and let our chariot-warriors and best archers take over from the sides. Hence, the half-moon formation. You will note that when Bhisma realized the half-moon could not be broken, he had no choice but to realign his troops in the defensive makara-crocodile formation. He and the other key commanders of Syoddhan’s forces held the frontline, snapping at anyone who approached, like a crocodile with great teeth, and allowing his armies to fall back. Our half-moon, on the other hand, was quickly realigned into an aggressive syena-bird. Our commanders came together from the flanks to form a new frontline that met Bhisma directly. It was the three of us – Bhim, Shikandin and I who led that attack and I know it won’t be one that the Grandsire, Asvattama and the others will dare forget!’

A cheer erupted from Bhim and was taken up by some of the others in the tent before it died down under Dharma’s withering stare.

Dharma tut-tutted, the condescending gesture making Dhrstyadymn grit his teeth. ‘
You
will note that Bhim was hurt as a result of that foolhardy attack. It is the unexpected that gives us the edge, Commander. And the unexpected requires planned sacrifices, not mindless valour. If your attack was truly unforgettable, Syoddhan’s offer of surrender should have been before us right now, as I had planned. Doesn’t that tell you that your strategy, though quite a spectacle to watch, was not at all effective?’

A voice so far unheard in the Command Tent said, ‘Forgive me, Your Highness, but how is loss of life effective?’ Uttamaujas, his cheeks reddening under everyone’s gaze, added, ‘I ask so that I may learn, and not to question your wisdom…’

Dharma glared briefly at an unperturbed Shikandin and turned back to the young inquisitor. ‘What loss of life do you speak of, young man?’

‘If I may…’ Uttamaujas took the parchment Dharma had been using out of his hand. He then laid it out on the table and began making his own markings on it as he spoke. ‘The instance you have just spoken of was an exception and, in your view, an ineffective exception. For the most part, we have followed your orders to the last detail and arranged our armies in the formations you have commanded. For example, the krauncha-crane formation on the second day of battle. Your Highness, I cannot help but notice that most of those formations had my people and the Matsyans at the frontline.’ ‘This is a war, Uttamaujas,’ Dharma said, with strained patience, ‘and in wars it is typical for the infantry to lead the attack.’

‘True. But only in the event of head-on assaults, as I have been told. If your intent is, as you said, to strategically deploy our forces, then… Also, the day before, Commander Dhrstyadymn’s unique use of the makara-crocodile array as an offensive and not as a defence formation left the enemy with no choice but to form a defensive makara of their own. It worked well for us, to the point that Acharya Dron was severely incapacitated. The Commander was near-unstoppable, till you ordered us to reform into the suchivyuha or needle formation…’

‘Are you saying you are a better military strategist than I am, boy?’ Dharma flared.

‘He is saying,’ Chief Virat said, ‘that the Needle would have been an effective move had we continued to keep Commander Dhrstyadymn and the others in the lead. Instead, you had them pulled back and put our infantry in the vanguard of the formation. Look what that led to… Doesn’t it show how the enemy reads you as not aggressive in the least, that they used a simple maze formation yesterday? And instead of surrounding the maze and breaking through it, you ordered a diamond formation to hold the line… My daughter was at the lead of the array with our men when Bhagadatta’s elephants began trampling them down. If Shikandin hadn’t broken formation to go to their aid, Uttara –
your daughter-in-law
– would be dead!’

Dharma was stunned. He looked from Virat to Uttara, then back to Virat again. ‘What was she doing there?’ he asked.

‘Not all unit commanders believe in leading from the back.’ The retort came, unexpectedly, from Sadev.

‘Agraja, the Chief is right,’ Nakul added. ‘Right now, Syoddhan is fighting this war a lot better than we are. And I don’t mean just the fact that his side uses astra-weapons. For all our attempts at strategy, he is not without his plans either. He has ordered all his other commanders to protect Bhisma, while the Grandsire decimates our armies, unchecked. Each Firewright arrow Bhisma fires brings down hundreds of men! Add to that the trouble from Bhagadatta’s elephants…’

Dharma protested, ‘Our strength is hardly depleted! Look, we’re all here!’

‘Really?’ Virat took up the argument again. ‘Eight days, and my numbers are less than a third of what we began with. Do you know how many dead Matsyans that is? You’ve walked right into Syoddhan’s trap, Dharma. You’re still confident because your precious commanders and kinsmen are around you, but what about the soldiers who have died waging your war? Syoddhan and Bhisma see what you don’t – that those men are your true strength, and you are wasting their lives. Once they are dead, it will take but one well-aimed arrow from Bhisma to bring your elite group of warriors down, and then it’ll be over. We have got to defeat Bhisma before he kills us all. Give the orders, else…’

Dharma gasped. ‘What is this? Mutiny? Rebellion? If you lot would rather go throw yourself at Syoddhan’s feet, go now! The fault is mine for…’

‘My apologies, Your Highness.’ At a sign from Shikandin, Uttamaujas went down on one knee before Dharma. ‘I did not mean to question your judgement. But I fear for my people, and Chief Virat’s, as well as the herdsmen of Kashi and the farmers of the southern nations…’ He bit his lip, trying to make himself complete the apology. ‘But…but I must ask these questions, so that I may answer those who in turn ask them of me. I was in the lead with my men today, when we used the sringataka-horned formation to break the enemy’s ocean array. Just one skilled archer of Yuyudhana’s or Partha’s competence, not to mention the use of astra-weapons, would have saved countless lives. The enemy was picking us off at their leisure, from a distance, as we rushed forward again and again to break their lines. Good soldiers died today before they had broken a sweat or struck a blow. They died in vain, running around like mad men, because they had been told to do so. We had no chance…’

‘Why you…’ An enraged Yudhamanyu grabbed Uttamaujas by his arm and lifted him to his feet. ‘How dare you, you forest-monkey? How dare you speak to Emperor Dharma this way? And what do you know of battle or honour, or dying in vain!’ He spat, accurately, on Uttamaujas’s foot.

‘Yudhamanyu!’ Both Shikandin and Dhrstyadymn raised their voices at once.

Yudhamanyu looked from one to the other. ‘You…’ he pointed to Shikandin. ‘You are nothing to me. Nothing. But you, Uncle Dhrstyadymn, I thought you’d…’ He shook his head, and with renewed wrath flew at Uttamaujas, landing a punch directly to his face.

Uttamaujas fell backwards from the impact, but had the presence of mind to grab Yudhamanyu and drag him down. The two rolled on the floor, trading blows and abuses, leaving everyone else at a loss for what to do. Dhrupad, their grandfather, drew his sword, the scrape of metal driving Dhrstyadymn and Panchali to protectively leap forward. They tried to separate the two brawling lads, but neither would listen. Shikandin retreated to a corner, arms crossed on his chest, well aware that his intervention would just make matter worse.

‘Enough!’ The voice rang above the tumult, something in its tone bringing them all, including the fighting men, to a stop. Abhimanyu made his way into the tent, his eyes fixed on Yudhamanyu and Uttamaujas. A petrified Kshatradharman was clinging to him. Without taking his eyes off the two brawlers, Abhimanyu took a dagger out from his waistband and held it out to the boy. ‘Kshatradharman! Your brother is in danger. Take this weapon to him, so that he can strike back.’

The young boy eagerly took the dagger. He ran ahead a few steps but came to a stop as confusion spread over on his innocent face. He turned back to Abhimanyu and whispered, as though fearful to speak, ‘Which one?’

‘What?’ Abhimanyu persisted. ‘I didn’t hear you.’

Again the boy whispered. ‘Which one? Which of my two brothers do you want me to take this to?’

Abhimanyu walked up to stand next to the trembling boy. ‘Well, which one of them do you like better?’

‘Sometimes I like Uttamaujas. He plays with me and tells me stories. But sometimes I like Yudhamanyu. He lets me pet his horse and teaches me about swords and riding…but only when no one can see us. I like them both.’

‘But they are fighting. So whose side are you on, Kshatradharman?’

The child stared at the dagger he was holding till tears welled up in his eyes. Finally, he confessed. ‘I don’t know why they are fighting. They are not enemies. The enemy is there…across the battlefield.’ He buried his face in Abhimanyu’s chest, his innocent courage spent.

Abhimanyu patted the boy on the back and took the dagger from him. A relieved Kshatradharman retreated, running immediately to Shikandin. Abhimanyu sheathed the weapon, and strode over to where Uttamaujas and Yudhamanyu still lay on the ground. He hauled them both up to a standing position.

‘That child,’ Abhimanyu said, ‘that boy…your brother…has more sense and decency that you two grown louts! Shame on you! Have you, for a moment, thought of anyone or anything beyond yourselves and your injured pride? You, Yudhamanyu, you think your father betrayed your mother? Have you bothered to ask your father what the truth is, or why he did what he did? Don’t you think that, like you, he too wished for a life beyond being a prince, a ceremonial, political toy? Why can’t you give him a fraction of the consideration you think you deserve? And you, Uttamaujas. Stop behaving as though every nobleman is out to get you and your people. Am I not one of “your people”? Will you not fight with me? I’ve not looked back once when you’ve been in my rearguard; tell me, was that a mistake? By Hara, you two disgust me!’