Abhaya, page 19
“You don’t like it here, do you?”
“I just feel suffocated.”
“Is there anything at all that can hold you back?”
“Captivity. Imprisonment will, at least, give me the satisfaction of being physically helpless, but…” Abhaya stopped, as Krishna’s finger pressed against her lips.
“Careful what you wish for,” he said, his eyes twinkling.
“So, you would bind me and hold me prisoner?” Abhaya returned, with a smile.
“A tempting idea,” Krishna said before growing serious. “By all means, explore and seek your purpose, Dhaarmaseni. But I want you to promise me something. Will you reach out to me if things go out of your control?”
“I shall. We both have few choices.”
“In situations forcing you to choose between life and death, will you choose life over death, instead of sacrificing yourself in the name of bravery?”
“That makes it two promises.”
“Stay here until Subhadra’s child arrives. She might need your help after that too.”
“She will need my help amidst scores of women who know what it is to give birth to a child ... that sounds very believable. Why don’t you admit that you are trying to put off my departure?”
Krishna raised his hands in admission. “Trying isn’t a crime, is it?”
“Listen to me, Vaasudeva. I shall not disappoint you or her. But you need to trust me.”
With a smile, Krishna rose and turned to leave. Abhaya was taken aback at the abrupt departure.
“Wait,” she exclaimed but, when he turned back, she realised, to her embarrassment, that she had nothing to say.
She rose as well in a bid to buy time. “Tell my new ‘elder sister’ not to talk of my wedding,” she said in mock anger. “If she cares about me, shouldn’t she try to find out if I like someone in the first place?”
Abhaya avoided his eyes and gazed down at the floor. She could picture his faint smile and the arch of his brows, and it made her heart race.
“And will you not tell me who it is?”
Abhaya tried to slow her breathing. “Not now. Later.”
“Let me try and guess.” Krishna stepped closer, his brows coming together. “What’s new in you? You’ve started to practise sword fighting and you are learning about battle formations from Subhadra. Is it safe to guess that you are trying to lure a warrior?”
“How intelligent! If I had taken to reading in my boredom, would you guess that I was trying to lure a rishi instead?”
“I think I know who it is!” Krishna exclaimed, dismissing her taunt. “His name is…”
“No!” Abhaya shouted, her finger sealing his lips. “It’ll kill me if you say the wrong name!”
“Pardon me!” Krishna laughed, his fingers squeezing his earlobes. “I shan’t guess if you don’t want me to.”
“You will know but only when the time is ripe.”
“That’s my line!”
“Well, do get used to hearing it from others then.” Abhaya’s eyes pleaded with him. “I want to tell you, Krishna. I cannot lie to you and insult our friendship. But I need time to brace myself. Let me be prepared to face the consequences of speaking the truth. I mean, no offence, but I would hate to threaten suicide if I were to be rejected. That is not love.”
“Mahadeva forbid, if he has the nerve to reject you, do you mean to say you want him to live in peace after that?”
His attempts to lighten the conversation did not bring a smile to her lips. She nodded in complete sincerity. The smile that bloomed on his lips filled her heart.
“Go now,” she said.
Krishna bowed his head to hide the lump in his throat. He walked out to the corridor. Walking back to his quarters, he could see her sinking into the seat. He could see her fight her tears and swallow hard. He could still see her tossing in her bed as sleep evaded her.
In his mind, he heard the voice of the formless woman who always kept him company in the solitary depths of his soul.
How could you come away like that?
Krishna smiled to himself. Time, my love, is not yet ripe.
“You are hopeless; it is high time I stepped in.”
“I never regret your stepping in.”
“This time, it might be a long pursuit.”
“I can only follow your lead!”
Chapter Thirty
Near Gomantaka
It was a week since Vikrama had left the mountain settlement of Gomantaka. Shyeni’s casual rejection clawed at his heart, making him wander aimlessly for the first couple of days. The clues about the Shakta settlement that he had gotten from the Garudas had proved only partly useful. When he reached the location, he found it deserted. There was a pile of half-burnt firewood and a thatched hut in which he found a bed and some pots. Whoever had left the place, Vikrama felt, had done so in a hurry. He wondered why.
There was a stain on the wooden cot. Blood. Upon examining it closely, he estimated it to be not more than a day old. Which means they were here as late as this morning. Walking out, something caught his eye—a metallic medallion that lay on the ground.
The Avanti signet! What has this got to do with the Shaktas?
Vikrama saw the marks of horse hooves. They made a trail out of the settlement. Mounting his steed, he followed it, all kinds of questions and new suspicions arising in his mind. He rode for a good couple of hours deeper into the wilderness, further away from the shore. The howl of a wild animal was audible at a distance. Wherever the trail was leading him to, he concluded, it was not towards any janapada, but away from civilisation.
At long last, he was rewarded with the sound of the neighing of what seemed to be two horses.
That makes it just two soldiers of Avanti. Dismounting, he tied his horse to a tree and walked towards the sounds. He heard a sudden shout and sprinted in the direction, drawing his sword.
He reached a hill and followed its perimeter to the entrance of a cave where he saw a soldier of Avanti drive his spear towards a rustic youth. Instinct took over and Vikrama attacked the soldier, saving the stranger from certain death in the nick of time.
“What is going on here?”
Everything happened in a flash. Men and women armed with crude weapons swooped down from the trees and surrounded them. Undaunted, Vikrama fended off three attackers with his sword, one wielding a pitchfork and the other two, axes. His attackers could not figure out that he was using their brute strength against them with his calculated dodging. Another joined the cumulative attack. From the corner of his eye, he saw three more of them disarm one of the soldiers of Avanti. Vikrama stood against a large boulder, holding his sword in a deadlock against two of the forest warriors wielding axes.
A scream escaped an Avanti soldier just before his head was severed. Vikrama pushed against his opponents with superhuman effort and freed himself. A javelin pierced the other soldier’s heart and emerged out of his back. His agonised cry rent the air as he fell. Vikrama’s eyes met those of the soldier’s killers.
Shaktas!
The woman in her early fifties gazed at him, frowning as she pulled out her javelin from the dead soldier’s body. The group closed in on him.
Then, the boy he had saved, shouted, “This one saved me!”
Vikrama looked at him and frowned. He looked familiar. The next moment, Vikrama grabbed the nearest opponent, tripping him over the other two holding him back and, in a trice, he caught the youth. “Weren’t you one of those who whisked our Pingala out of Anagha?!”
He held his sword at the Shakta’s neck and ordered the others back.
The Shakta trembled in his grip. “Spare me! I did not kill her.”
“She was killed?!”
“By these Avanti people! Not by me. I swear in the name of the Goddess!”
“Leave him!” the woman ordered.
“Leave this despicable creature who lures away innocent girls and can’t save them?” Vikrama sneered, rage rendering his tone unusually coarse.
Another Shakta tried to attack him from his blind side. But Vikrama whirled around and kicked him in the belly.
“If not for the promise I made to my father, I would have killed every last one of you!”
The spear in the woman’s hand lowered when she caught sight of the serpent tattoo on his hand. She looked at him intently and walked up to him.
“It is you?”
Vikrama’s grip tightened on the hilt of his sword till it cut into his palm. Then, he let the weapon clatter to the ground.
The Shaktas watched in surprise as the lone intruder dropped to his knees.
“Manikandhara!”
For the first time in many years, they saw Kadambari, her eyes moist as she stood in front of her son.
“He adopted you? As his son? Are you a prince now?” Kadambari brushed Vikrama’s hair. They had moved back to the original settlement by the next morning, sensing that the threat from the soldiers of Avanti had ended.
Vikrama’s hand rose to shake hers away but stopped midway and clenched itself into a fist.
“Such anger, Vatsa? All because I chose to pursue a life of my choice?” Kadambari’s tone turned bitter.
“You had all the right to throw me away. But did you have to resort to luring innocent girls away, Amba?”
“I know whom you are talking about. I did not lure that poor girl, Manikandhara. It was that idiot student of mine who made that terrible mistake,” she paused before asking, “Vatsa, who is Abhaya?”
“Don’t even dare to take her name! You will have to pass through me to get your hands on her!”
“Enough!” Kadambari snapped, startling Vikrama. “You can blame me for abandoning you, Manikandhara, but don’t you dare accuse me of underhanded designs!” The growl in her tone made him step back.
“Abhaya is my sister.”
“And the secret tunnel, Anagheshwari…”
“How do you know that?!” Vikrama caught her by both arms. “That was a secret known only to my father, my sister, myself and our priest Katyayana.”
“That girl, Pingala, knew it too.” Kadambari sat on the wooden log that served as her seat, thinking. “And I gather that she was tortured to the point of death by these soldiers of Avanti for this information.”
“What!” Vikrama’s eyes widened. The horror was palpable in his voice. “That could be the end of … Amba, why did your students have to help the soldiers of Avanti?”
Kadambari fell into thought, not letting Vikrama’s accusation affect her. In her mind, the pieces came together to form an image that made her shudder. “Listen to me, Manikandhara, something is being planned. I can tell you what I know and you should also listen to what I have deduced from all that I have heard.”
She continued, “Regrettably, it was one of my group that lured this Pingala. Some months ago, another group of Shaktas visited us. They requested us to accompany them to Ujjayini where they wanted to worship Goddess Mahakali. I could not go but sent some of my students along. The boys did not come back for a long time. I assumed they had decided not to return. But about a fortnight ago, one of them brought this injured girl in a stolen horse cart. I came to know that she was lured from her home by him and the members of the other group to Ujjayini, from where soldiers took her away. This boy suspected foul play and broke into their quarters. He saw them torturing the poor girl for information. What child of fifteen can withstand such pain, Manikandhara?”
Vikrama bent his head in sorrow. If only they had managed to stop Pingala from leaving Anagha. “Amba, I want to speak to that boy too.”
Kadambari nodded. “Just remember that he is as horrified as you and me. He learnt his lesson to not mingle with soldiers at a high cost. But before you leave, Manikandhara, I must warn you there are evil ones among your janapada folks, among their kings, who don’t think twice about kidnapping and torturing innocent defenceless girls. There are those among the Shaktas who are no less evil. They want to disrupt civilisation and enslave people in the name of religion. These two forces, I fear, have come together, Manikandhara. If you can, Vatsa, do something to stop them. Both are enemies of what we know as humanity. They don’t mean well.”
“Is there something more, Amba?” Vikrama prodded in a gentler voice. He could not say if Kadambari was merely speculating or if she knew something that had led her to make this prophecy.
“I am trying to piece it all together now, Manikandhara. It was a couple of years after I left you at Anagha. I had practised the rituals of Shakta order and taken the religion to my heart. Meeting my guru, Vamanatha, was the best thing that could have happened to me. It was an idyllic, blissful life of spiritual elevation until he received an invitation from this place called Kamarupa. Kamarupa is in the kingdom of…” Kadambari pointed towards the east.
“Pragjyotisha. Did you go there? And come back?” Vikrama asked, awed at the long journey she had undertaken.
“What I took for a temple of Shakti worship turned out to be something else, Vatsa. It was…”
Vikrama was listening intently and he moved closer to her and sat on the floor at her feet.
“We went there and met other Shakta practitioners too. The first half of the day was a joyful experience, meeting so many of our kind. I even contemplated staying there forever. It wasn’t until I heard the lord of Kamarupa, Bhauma, address our gathering that I began to feel uncomfortable.”
“How is that related to Pingala’s death?” Vikrama protested, glancing outside. Every moment of delay increased the probability of Anagha’s walls being breached.
“You can make up for the lost time in the course of your journey. I am not whiling away time in pointless tales!” Kadambari hissed. She then resumed. “Bhauma went ahead to declare some woman as the mahayogini or mahadevi of Kamarupa who was supposedly the medium of the Supreme Goddess. He also went on to denounce other gods and deities worshipped across this land. That, Manikandhara, is not what Shakta philosophy and religion stand for. My guru and I were distressed and had planned to leave the place when Bhauma killed him! Hiding behind a pillar, I saw that power-hungry monster strangling Guru Vamanatha!”
Vikrama made a move to rise to his feet. Kadambari pressed his shoulder, her sharp gaze puzzling him. His lips parted to say something and then he shook his head.
“That Bhauma is up to something sinister. He was instigating the Shakta cult to turn against the ways of Aryas across Bharatavarsha. Manikandhara, he was using and subverting the religion to control people.”
“And you continue to stick to this cult of barbarians, monsters and murderers!” Vikrama snapped. “Your cursed religion, Amba, has destroyed my family. It now threatens to destroy those who opened their hearts to your unfortunate son.” He rose to his feet and strode out of the hut. Saving Anagha was his priority, not theories about what had happened in an obscure temple years before. At the threshold, he paused. “Amba, were you harmed at Kamarupa?”
“I am alive, Manikandhara,” came the cold answer. “Even in this ‘cult of barbarians and murderers’, there exist some true men, like they do in your world of Aryas.” A vague memory of her confrontation with Mura came back to her. Kadambari could not help feeling grateful to the senapati of Kamarupa who had helped her escape despite his loyalties.
Vikrama swallowed hard and turned around, feeling guilty that his insensitivity had hurt Kadambari. “Amba, come back with me. Give your home another chance. That man who abused you is no more and you have nothing to fear there.” After a pause, he added, “My father, the king of Anagha, considers you his sister. He would be delighted to welcome you home.”
“Those were his words you were speaking then,” Kadambari sighed.
Vikrama stepped back into the hut, a genuine regret showing in his eyes. Kadambari raised her hand.
“Go now, Vikramasena, your father and sister need you now.” Kadambari’s voice betrayed no trace of emotion. “I shall come when you need me.”
Chapter Thirty-One
Indraprastha
“He left? When?” Abhaya sighed, toying with the dagger Subhadra had given her.
“At dawn,” Subhadra sighed. “The news reached us in the middle of the night.” She settled on the couch with a maid’s help. The maids, Abhaya noticed, had been staying close to Subhadra all week. She was never left alone. Visits from other family members had increased too. The birth of her child was expected any day. Abhaya bit her lip, reminding herself to not say anything that would agitate the soon-to-be mother.
“It’s just that it’s all very sudden,” Abhaya said. “He remembered to leave this for me.” She held the dagger up and examined it in the light. The rays of the sun glinted off its razor edge. “And yet, he never stopped to tell me that Dwaraka has been attacked by that king of Chedi!”
She swallowed hard to ease the constriction in her throat and asked, “When did this happen? What happened? Krishna brought most of the Yadava army with him here. Most of your family are still there at Dwaraka. Are they alright? How about your sisters-in-law?” She was seized with worry about Mitravinda.
Subhadra shook her head. “I don’t know. But this isn’t new, Abhaya. Hopefully, they left by the sea route and have met our armies on the western front. Krishna was confident about their escape. We should get to know more in about a fortnight.”
Abhaya sighed and leaned back, her face expressionless. At last, she said, “He dared to elicit promises from me that I would ask for his help if I ever got into trouble but did not consider me worth sharing any of his!”
“Abhaya!” Subhadra leaned forward to gently grip her shoulder. For a moment, Abhaya’s eyes shut tight, her jaw clenched and her lips quivered. Then, with an effort, she schooled her face into a stoic mask. Subhadra shook her head. “I have seen Mitravinda despair in this way at times.”
“What?”
“If it makes you feel any better, my sisters-in-law have gone through the same emotions you’re feeling now.”
“I can empathise!” Abhaya burst out. “You just can’t tell where you stand with him! What do I mean to him, Subhadra? What does he think of me? There are times when ... but now, he just goes off and...”
