The Rise of Hastinapur (38 page)

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Authors: Sharath Komarraju

BOOK: The Rise of Hastinapur
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Sure enough, Shakuni came to his chair and sat down. He buried his fingers in his hair and stared at the floor. ‘Well?’ he said.

‘Well?’

‘When do we announce the imprisonment and execution of all the vault-keepers?’

‘You are certain, then, that we must hang them all?’

Shakuni slapped his thigh. ‘By the gods! I shall not like it if we hang them. I shall have them whipped to death. Their cries must travel all the way to Hastinapur, and they must bring their king running to us.’

‘He does come running to us. Then what do we do?’

‘Then we fight him, and we take back our gold!’

‘Do you suppose he shall just hand it to us if we ask for it nicely?’

‘He will not. He will fight for it, as he should. We do not have any time to think, sister – we must act!’

‘For you, to act means just one thing, Shakuni, and that is to draw your sword and go threatening people that you will slit their throats. Now vault-keepers may fear you and that thing you wear around your waist, but real warriors will not.’ She set aside her glass of milk on the table and felt anger rush through her, in waves. ‘What has Gandhar got, now? Do we have an army big enough to fight Hastinapur? Do we have the means to raise an army?’

‘We still have the mine.’

‘A mine that produces seven hundred
tulas
of gold in a year. Hastinapur has taken a hundred times that from us in the last twenty years.’

Shakuni slipped forward in his seat and looked at her. ‘We have beaten them once, my lady. We can beat them again.’

‘What do you think Hastinapur has been doing with our gold these last twenty years, Shakuni? Do you believe their army is the same size as it was all those years ago, when Idobhargava met them on Kamyaka’s wetlands?’ His face fell, and she softened against her wishes. After all, it was he who uncovered this. ‘I do not wish to yell at you, brother, but today we do not have the means to fight Hastinapur and win.’

His eyes flashed defiance. ‘We shall not know until we try.’

Gandhari kept her voice soft. ‘But what will it do to our own people, Shakuni? If we are to hang the vault-keepers in the town hall, what do you think will happen to the people of Gandhar? They will all wonder where their gold went. They will all wish to see their gold, like we did, and what will happen when we tell them that their gold is all lost?’

He did not say anything, but she saw a glimmer of understanding in his eyes.

‘They will turn against us, my boy,’ she said. ‘They will come and set fire to the palace. They will loot our treasury, and each man will kill his neighbour for his share of the gold. And what do you think will happen when it is all done? Hastinapur will march right into our city and set up their throne in the palace. They will not even have to fight. Do you not see that?’

Shakuni’s mouth settled into a grump. ‘Then what is to be done?’

Gandhari sighed. ‘Nothing. For all that we have lost, we still have one thing that is very precious. The people of Gandhar believe that their gold is in the vaults. As long as that belief stands, brother, they shall not come for their gold. They will hold their copper coins and think that they hold gold – for them, one copper coin equals to one in gold.’

‘I find your suggestion preposterous, dear sister!’ said Shakuni.‘They have looted all the gold out of our kingdom and you propose to do
nothing
?’

‘At least for now. The vault-keepers will report to the king of Hastinapur presently that we have come and seen the vaults. Very soon, the king of Hastinapur will know that we know our gold is no longer with us. I think he will pay us a visit, then.’

‘A visit?’ said Shakuni, his voice quivering in fury. ‘And are we to receive him as a guest?’

‘Indeed. What choice do we have?’ Gandhari sat back and crossed her legs. She picked up a sliced apple from her plate and bit into it, looking up at the painted figures on the ceiling. ‘How strange it is to
know
, Shakuni,’ she said wonderingly. ‘Yesterday we were the wealthiest Kingdom in North Country, and Hastinapur was but a vassal. Nothing has changed from yesterday to today, except our knowledge of the truth.’ She chewed on the piece fully, and swallowed it. ‘Nothing has changed, and yet everything has changed. In one day we have become Hastinapur’s slaves.’

When Gandhari first saw Bhishma, she admitted to herself a tiny jolt of surprise. She had heard tales regarding the foremost warrior of North Country, and she had expected him to be burly with arms the size of tree trunks, but here was a man who would – if his beard were shaved and if he were decked suitably – pass for a woman. The only marks of combat he wore were on his wrists in the form of pink straight lines. She recalled that Hastinapur was the land of archers who could shoot of either foot and either arm with equal skill. This man, they said, wielded the mace and hurled the spear too, but she could not picture him with those weapons. He had a small face and an easy, boyish smile. He walked lightly upon the carpet of rose petals that had been spread for him, and every few seconds he would brush off the white jasmines that would get stuck in his hair. He wore his hair long, right down to his shoulders. Gandhari suddenly realized that this man was almost thirty years older than she was, and yet he looked to be no more than a youth of twenty one.

She had asked the waiting-women to lead him straight to her chambers after he had freshened up, for the things she wished to speak to him had no place in an open court. She had Shakuni with her, of course, standing by her side, welcoming him, and on his side stood Chyavatana with his arms crossed in front of his mountain-like chest.

When Bhishma sat down in his seat, he bowed to Gandhari, and she found herself smiling and returning his bow. After all four of them were seated, she clapped her hands, emptying the room of attendants. ‘I trust you have eaten well, my lord,’ she said. ‘I have asked for goats from the mountains to be brought down just for your feasting.’

He nodded, with a hint of a smile upon his lips. ‘I did, indeed, like it very much, Your Highness. I have brought from Hastinapur some very fine gold and jewels.’ His eyes danced to Shakuni and back. ‘I am given to believe that the town of Gandhar could use some gold.’

She was shaken out of her admiration of him, and she was reminded of the true purpose of his visit. Her nostrils bristled, and her teeth dug into her lips. ‘Why, sir, you certainly are generous to give back part of what you have stolen. Is that the pact of honour these days among thieves?’

He shrugged, and in one swift motion of his hands, untied the cloak and set it aside. She saw that his shoulders were stiff and lean, the shoulders of an archer. ‘All of us are thieves, my lady. You steal gold from the bosom of Mother Earth, and we stole it from you.’

Beside her, Shakuni began to rise from his seat, and his hand went to the hilt of his sword, but she looked at Chyavatana, and he laid a heavy hand on the boy’s shoulder. What had Shakuni thought, that Bhishma would come and repent for having stolen their gold? Of course he would crow, like victors did and should. One day, on the day of her victory over him and his city, she would crow too. Not today, though.

Bhishma’s eyes followed Shakuni’s arm, but his pose of relaxation did not change. He wore tough leather footwear that was black with dust from the rocks. When he shook his feet, it dropped onto the floor and powdered the rose petals. He bent toward her, his elbow resting on the armrest and his hand covering his mouth. ‘I have come here not to fight, my lady, I am certain you know that.’ He glanced about himself. ‘I am not dressed for combat.’

‘I would like nothing better than to have you killed, my lord,’ she said, and saw his left eyebrow jump up, even as a smile spread on his lips. ‘But I know that you hold all the strings today, and I must dance as you ask me to.’

‘That is indeed true, but it need not be that way, my lady. I have come here not to fight you or to make you dance, but to ask for your hand in marriage to the royal house of Hastinapur.’

She began to laugh, because she was certain that Bhishma was jesting. But when his face remained calm, she stopped herself and turned to look at Shakuni. His face was twisted into the same knot of confusion. ‘Did I hear you right, sire?’ she said at length.

‘You did, my lady, yes,’ said Bhishma. ‘I do not believe in fighting, because it kills people and it helps no one. We have looted your wealth without your knowledge, but you will admit that we have done so without harming a single person’s life in Gandhar.’

‘You have stolen the wealth of five generations in twenty years, my lord.’

‘And if you agree to become queen of Hastinapur, that wealth shall be neither yours nor mine, but ours.’

‘You have quite a cheek on you, sire, if I may say so, for first taking all that is ours and now asking for my hand – for the hand of the queen of Gandhar – in return.’

‘Not in return,’ said Bhishma. ‘I shall not return your gold, but I shall take no more from it after you come to our house.’

She sat up in her seat. ‘Does that strike you as a fair trade?’

Bhishma smiled and shrugged. ‘There is no such thing as a fair trade, my lady. The battle of Kamyaka was not fair for the people of Hastinapur either.’

‘But it was you who came to our gates, you who cast the first stone.’

‘And we who lost the most men and the most wealth. It is not fair that we have to work for our gold, Your Highness, whereas you could dig it out of the ground and use it as money. Our milkmen, our merchants, our carpenters and weavers have to
work
to be paid in gold, and yet your men do nothing to get their share of gold. Is
that
fair?’

‘We were blessed with the mines,’ said Gandhari. ‘You were not.’

‘So you were. You were blessed with a mine, you did not earn it. And whatever you have not earned, can be stolen. Our scriptures say that, do they not?’

For one moment, Gandhari considered calling for the guards and ordering them to pin this man with spears. Oh, how sweet it would be to smack that smile off his face! How delightful it would be to stare into that angelic face after all life had been sucked out of it. She realized her hands were wound tight together, and her knuckles had gone pink with the marks of her fingertips. She counted up to five, and her anger withdrew, a little.

‘I shall not argue with you about whether you are right or wrong,’ she said. ‘What matters is only that it is done, and what was once our gold is now yours.’

‘That is so, yes,’ he said, never once letting his gaze waver.

‘I only ask you what you will do if I reject your offer of marriage.’

He looked away in the direction of the window, lips pursed, and then turned to her. ‘I wish you do not, madam, for the good of Gandhar.’

‘What are your terms if I do?’

‘If you do not wish to be queen of Hastinapur, then I demand that the city of Gandhar pay Hastinapur four hundred and fifty
tulas
of gold every year as tribute from here on.’ Shakuni got up to his feet and took two steps toward Bhishma, who considered him with a weary eye. ‘Sit down, Prince.You do not wish to fight me.’ Then, turning to Gandhari, he said, ‘We shall make that five hundred
tulas
, just so you remember to teach your little brother how to behave.’

‘And if I say no to that?’ she asked tonelessly, though she knew what the answer would be.

Bhishma leaned back in his seat and laughed, his blue eyes lighting up. ‘The only thing keeping Gandhar from revolt and unrest, my lady, is the belief of her people that her vaults are full of gold. But belief – it is such a weak string, is it not? So easy to cut.’

‘I understand,’ she said.

‘Indeed you do,’ he replied, and then his expression softened. ‘It does not have to be this way, my lady. Let us not fight. Let us bury our past and move forward, together.’

‘On my dead body!’ said Shakuni, his hand still on the hilt of his sword, though he did not advance past the steps toward their guest.

Gandhari said, ‘We shall pay the tribute you ask for, but I shall not become the queen of Hastinapur.’

Bhishma smiled and got to his feet. He clapped his hands to summon the attendants at the gate. When they came to him, he pointed to his cloak and they scampered to pick it up. ‘If you show me to my chambers,’ he said to the girls, ‘I shall retire for the night.’

SIX

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