Abhaya, page 10
I know Your Majesty will not consider it below yourself to accept a humble gift from your old friend. As a token of our continued friendship, I send you four horses of the highest breed from Trigarta, a cartload of the new harvest as a sign of prosperity, javelins from the best of forges of Matsya befitting your valour and a trident as my offering to the Lord Mahakala.
With prayers to Mother Anagheshwari for your well-being and that of your empire.
Dharmasena nodded to himself, stamped the letter and handed it to the messenger who had been patiently waiting in the corner.
“Don’t be surprised if the letter does not reach the king at all.” He smiled at the messenger. “But do ensure that the prince of Avanti receives these gifts.”
As he remembered his promise, the king of Anagha sent for his chariot to visit the temple of Anagheshwari at the north-eastern corner of the city. But before he could board the chariot, he saw the priest hurrying towards him.
“Bhudeva Katyayana!”
“Annadata, they have taken my daughter!”
“What! Who?”
Katyayana could not speak. He was out of breath and hysterical with distress. Dharmasena led him inside, sat him down and offered him a glass of water. When the priest had finally calmed down, he said. “Now tell me, Bhudeva. What happened?”
“I had warned you about the Shaktas, Prabho. I had warned the princess. I had warned the prince!” Katyayana’s voice broke and his frame shook.
“Send for Abhaya,” Dharmasena told the guard without turning and then spoke to the priest. “When did this happen, Acharya?”
Katyayana buried his head in his hands. “Pingala came to me this morning to clarify something about the vrata that your daughter had asked about. Some things needed to be purchased from the market and she never returned! The Shaktas are missing since last night.”
“I am sure Pingala is with Abhaya,” Dharmasena said, hoping he was true.
“Janaka.”
Abhaya faced both men with a question to which she did not have the answer. “Pingala did not return since morning.” The sight of shock and displeasure in Dharmasena’s eyes froze her limbs.
“Why did she have to go to the market herself to purchase anything? Couldn’t you send one of your maids or the guards?” Dharmasena’s temper was at its tipping point.
“Nothing was missing in our granary!” Abhaya exclaimed. “When I went to the kitchen, I was told that everything was available. She lied!”
Katyayana’s eyes widened in shock. “She lied?”
“Why did she leave the palace by herself?” Dharmasena’s angry eyes pierced Abhaya.
“Janaka, I could not have her shadowed that way. It took me more than three days to have her open her mouth!”
She stared at Dharmasena’s hand that had risen to forbid any further explanations. His clenched jaw and the vein she could see throbbing in his forehead made her heart miss a beat. It was the first time she had faced her father’s wrath this way.
Dharmasena turned to Katyayana. “They should not have gone far. I shall send for the soldiers right away!”
Katyayana shook his head. “I speak with no ill will but the Vamacharis meant no good. Today it was my daughter. God forbid but tomorrow it may be yours.” He stood up to leave.
Dharmasena stopped him by his arm. Much to Abhaya’s shock, he dropped onto his knees in front of the priest.
Abhaya too sank to the ground, more because the strength in her legs deserted her. Katyayana bent, caught Dharmasena by the shoulder and helped him rise. “You got it wrong, I am not cursing you. I, Katyayana of the Bhargava gotra, am your purohita, the well-wisher of this city and your family. Any ill that befalls the city and your family would have to first pass over my corpse.” He sighed, collected his shawl from the seat and left.
“Janaka, Pingala left out of her own accord. I beg you, do not send soldiers to pursue her!” She shrank back, seeing Dharmasena’s hand rise violently this time. He stopped himself midway and hit it against the pillar with all his strength, pain erupting on his face.
“Janaka!”
“Later.”
She sank to the ground, finding her limbs desert her will. She did not know how long she sat there until Vikrama’s comforting arms went around her.
Chapter Fourteen
“This is the first time he thinks you let him down,” Vikrama said jokingly, trying to lighten his sister’s mood.
Abhaya shook her head. “Bhrata, you know it was beyond my control!” she protested. “Did he have to fall at Katyayana’s feet just to show me that I let him down?” She had spent a sleepless night and all of Vikrama’s efforts to cheer her went in vain.
“Calm down. Father was just disturbed at Katyayana’s state,” he reasoned.
“Then he should have heard me out!”
“I told you it is the first time he feels let down by you. And people don’t handle things well when that happens.” The light humour did not sit well with Abhaya and she turned away. He sighed and sat down by her side. “Bhagini, I have decided to pursue their trail.”
Abhaya looked up. “You’re joking!” But his face told her he wasn’t. “Why Bhrata? If she left by herself, we have no right to pursue her and force her to come back!”
“I am not going to force her to come back.” Vikrama glared at her, upset at her assumption. “Abhaya, I have my motive too.” He looked away. “You know my mother left my late father before the king adopted me. She too left with some Vamachara Shaktas.”
Abhaya continued to look at him and he could read the question in her mind. “I spoke to Katyayana to find more about them. He says they are from the south of the Vindhyas towards the western shores. I remember that my mother went that way too.”
“Do you expect to find your mother there now?” Abhaya asked, unimpressed.
“I can at least try.”
“Why would you want to find the woman who abandoned you?”
“Don’t I have the right to ask her why?” Vikram retorted. “Besides, I think Katyayana is right in saying that those Shaktas mean no good. A true practitioner of any religion does not try to influence a juvenile mind. They did just that in whisking Pingala away. The girl did not know what she was doing.”
Abhaya looked unconvinced. He held her shoulders and turned her to face him. “Abhaya, they will come for you. I should stop them before they do that.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. I shall not go with them if they ever come for me. Are you happy?”
“You refuse to get it, don’t you?”
“Have you been taking some hallucinogen? Why on this earth would they come for me?”
Vikrama said nothing. How could he say that he had dreamt about it—that the Shaktas were carrying Abhaya away into the night? He had never told anyone about his dreams, the dreams he had begun seeing when he was just a boy, soon after his mother left him in Dharmasena’s care. There was the disturbing recurring dream in which his mother grew wings and flew away, laughing at his inability to follow her. And then there was the dream about Abhaya, who was just an infant then. He had dreamt that a serpent had coiled itself around the toddler Abhaya and, a year later, the dream had come true. In the past month or so, he was tormented by his mother’s voice in his dreams, exhorting him to protect his sister. The day Katyayana told him about the Shaktas, he dreamt of his mother pushing Abhaya down a cliff amidst mountains that he did not recognise. In the dream, he remembered running to the edge of the cliff only to find her being carried away by women and men taking the name of the goddess they worshipped. Pingala’s disappearance, his instincts told him, was a prelude to something disastrous that would affect Abhaya. But he knew Abhaya would never believe him. He did not know what to believe himself but the beliefs ingrained in him as a child told him that the gods sometimes send warnings about the future in oblique ways. His mother, wherever she was, held the key to understanding what was to come. Of that, he was sure.
“You want to leave us, don’t you?” Abhaya said accusingly.
“I am helpless you feel so, Bhagini.”
“Janaka shall not let you go!” Abhaya clutched his arm.
“He has already given his permission, this morning.” Vikrama smiled as he squeezed her hand.
“Let go of his hand, Vatse,” Dharmasena said softly, entering the room.
“Janaka!” Abhaya exclaimed. “How can you let him go?!”
Dharmasena smiled at them and put his hand on Vikrama’s shoulder. “Have confidence in the ties that bind us, Abhaya. Don’t stop him. This is important to him. And I know he shall come back to us even if his mother tries to stop him.”
Abhaya’s grip loosened. Her eyes sought Vikrama’s and, for a moment, he saw again the five-year-old who had tugged at his hand and heart, years ago, making the bitterness of every other troublesome relationship melt away. “Forgive me if I pained you, Bhrata.”
Vikrama shook his head and laughed, running his fingers through her hair, affectionately. “I’m sure you’ll enjoy the respite from the ‘cruel’ training sessions.”
“I’ll train enough to beat you when you return,” Abhaya said. “Let me sharpen your sword for you.”
“I have a new one for him,” Dharmasena intervened, holding up the shining steel blade, enjoying the momentary gleam in the eyes of both his children on seeing the new weapon. Children remain children, he smiled to himself.
They watched him from the terrace, the lone rider leaving the fortress of Anagha behind and disappearing into the horizon.
“Was it wise to let him go, Janaka?” Abhaya asked.
Dharmasena nodded. “I should have done this earlier, Abhaya. This was the first time he took the initiative instead of being a pliant implementer of others’ orders.”
“You are the first father who complains of his children being too obedient,” Abhaya quipped, smiling.
“Not that I would ever accuse you of it, Abhaya,” Dharmasena said, his eyes twinkling. “You never seek an opinion from either of us when you go ahead and do something.”
“What did I do now?” Abhaya looked away, knowing there was truth in his words. “Whatever I did, Janaka, would you not have done the same if you were in my place?”
“That works as an admission more than anything else.”
“I am not the one to lie to you. Neither have you been one to make me lie to you, Janaka. Ask me about anything and I’ll explain my actions. If I ever did something without your knowledge, it was only to save you a diplomatic dilemma.”
“No Abhaya, intentions aren’t where I seek to confront you. I did a lot of things without my father’s knowledge too, when I was young, Vatse. He was confident about my intentions and he was sure that he could step in if things got out of control. But the intrigues we faced then were much simpler than those we face today.”
Abhaya sat down, knowing this conversation would not be short or easy. On the other hand, she also welcomed the lightening of the burden she bore about everything she had done without Dharmasena’s knowledge, from helping Mitravinda elope with Krishna to seeking Krishna’s help on the recent trade agreements. Finally, she said, “So what bothers you now, Janaka? Let me share those concerns too.”
He shook his head. “Watch the people you trust, Vatse. They seem to be too big to have an honest stake in your well-being.”
“Who do you mean, Janaka?”
Dharmasena avoided her gaze, debating within himself. As a father, it was a hard choice to make between protecting his daughter and giving her the freedom to make her own decisions and learn her lessons. As long as her fearless honesty remained, he knew that he had little to worry about. “Abhaya, I shall not let my biases affect your judgement. My friendship with the king of Avanti was based on my experience. It cannot continue with you and Anuvinda. You are obviously looking for allies who are worthy of your friendship. I cannot choose these friends for you. I can only tell you to be conscious of whom you trust and what their motives are. An enemy’s enemy can be a friend only as long as both enmities stay,” he paused and smiled to himself. The conversation was turning into a sermon. Abhaya nodded seriously. “You know the rest, Vatse. All this aside, do talk to Katyayana once. He has been forgiving. But we need to get to the bottom of this abduction. Apart from Vikrama’s investigation, we shall send out more soldiers too in search of Pingala.”
Chapter Fifteen
Dwaraka
The waves hitting the rocky shore of Dwaraka did little to drown the festive commotion in the mansion that was home to the Shoora household. Festivity was not uncommon in the family but a visit by a newly-wed daughter was extra special. Subhadra’s visit to Dwaraka was a short one but tactical too, as those in the know of the correspondence between her brother Krishna Vaasudeva and her marital family understood. The new venture that her brother-in-law, King Yudhishthira of Indraprastha, the eldest of the Pandava brothers, was pondering could potentially redefine the entire political structure of Bharatavarsha. The brothers had sought Krishna’s advice at every small and big juncture of their lives. Their rise to power was achieved after successfully overcoming a series of near-fatal problems, which the populace of Bharatavarsha felt had been engineered by their paternal cousins, the Kauravas. This time, Yudhishthira was thinking of conducting a Rajasuya, the ultimate imperial conquest that would unite the disunited janapadas and bind them in a single code of conduct. It would begin with a Digvijaya, a conquest in all four directions. The kings from every kingdom they passed would either have to consent to the overlordship of the one performing the Rajasuya or face war. Finally, it would culminate in an elaborate ceremonial yajna, to which all the subordinate kings would be invited to attend and negotiate the new political structure.
“It is a well-thought-out plan,” remarked Krishna, looking up from the map of Bharatavarsha that lay before him, with the campaign strategy marked. Yudhishthira’s four brothers would lead the conquest in each of the four directions. The accompanying scroll detailed resources, finances, the counsel of the rishis, the considered speculation about the potential reactions of allies and detractors and so on. This kind of information could not have been entrusted to an ordinary messenger. Nor could one of the Pandavas have come bearing it without attracting unwanted attention. Subhadra’s visit to her parental home, on the other hand, would not raise suspicions. It had been a good idea to send the plans through her. Krishna looked across the table at his sister, who sat doing a final scrutiny of the plan. He smiled at her intent expression. Subhadra shared Krishna’s dusky complexion and strong jawline. The women of the palace had been teasing her that her skin had paled after her wedding and that she was becoming a northerner now that she was the favoured bride of the famed warrior Arjuna. Even the way she wore her hair had changed; she now wove up her plaited hair into a spiralled bun held in place with ornamental pins and a gem-studded chudamani.
“Are you ready for the journey?” she asked now, interrupting his thoughts.
“Does the journey ever stop, Bhagini?” he said with a smile.
“You seem too thoughtful. Is there something else that needs to be straightened out?”
“How did you guess?”
“Unlike those women you’ve wedded, I can read your eyes beyond that smile of yours. I can tell when you are preoccupied even when your forehead is placid without a slight frown. I can feel your jaw tightening even when you manage to retain the colour of your cheeks,” Subhadra teased. “And let me tell you, Bhrata, even your wives consult me when they are unable to conclude what you feel about something.”
“And do you give your brother away?” Krishna asked, letting his jaw drop in mock horror.
Subhadra raised her eyebrows and pretended to consider revealing more. She laughed at his anticipation. “Do you think your little sister will give you away?”
“So you deceive my innocent wives who depend on you?”
Subhadra had expected this trap and was prepared for it. “I do whatever I can to stop them from throwing you out of their beds! Now, let us start early. We can’t afford to let the horses gallop.” She stroked the gentle bulge of her belly in an unconscious reminder of her early months of pregnancy.
Before long, a chariot set off from the seaside fortress of Dwaraka and took to the highway leading to the northern part of Bharatavarsha; it was followed by a minimal guard. Patrol teams, a collective effort by the different rulers of Saurashtra, had kept the highway safe for travellers, and even royals who traversed this route did not feel the need for an increased guard. Krishna noted with satisfaction that this initiative was also supported by allies like Matsya and Kunti and that their journey to Indraprastha would be safe.
“Can I?” Subhadra reached for the reins. “It has been long since I have held the reins.”
Krishna obliged and flexed his arm in relief.
At this pace, we will barely cross Saurashtra before dusk.
“We could stop at Anagha for the night,” Subhadra suggested, reading his thoughts.
“We might need to. We need to let the king know of the new developments. The military support we promised them might be hampered for the interim. That is, if everything goes according to the plan. These developments would make Avanti insecure. They would be amongst the first to oppose the Rajasuya. Their next step would be to cut Saurashtra away from the rest of Bharatavarsha, hampering Dwaraka’s aid to Indraprastha and likewise. Being the fortress that oversees the junction of three crucial highways, Anagha would be the first target for their defensive expansion.”
Subhadra nodded but continued to look at him askance. Adjusting her hold on the reins, she kept the horses at a steady trot. “Is there any other way to alert them without detailing our quest at this juncture?” She added quickly, “Not that I don’t trust them. But others have the right to know about the campaign first.”
Krishna changed the subject. “So, how does it feel to be the youngest wife of a man whom every maiden across Bharatavarsha dreams about?”
Subhadra looked at Krishna. Behind the twinkle in his eyes and the smile on his lips, she saw concern. She handed back the reins and stretched herself.
