Immortals of Meluha (23 page)

Bhabravya looked at Shiva with admiration for the way this foreigner fought, not the blue throat of which he was unaware. He nodded politely. ‘It makes sense, foreigner.’

Bhabravya quickly formed the Arishtanemi soldiers into a tight perimeter and pulled the wounded within. Dead bodies were not touched. At least three Arishtanemi lost their lives while nine Chandravanshi bodies lay in the clearing. The last one had taken his own life since he was too wounded to escape. Better to meet one’s maker rather than fall alive in enemy hands and reveal secrets. Bhabravya ordered his soldiers to stay low and keep their shields in front for protection against any arrows. And they waited so till the rescue party arrived.

‘My God,’ cried an anxious Daksha as he hugged Sati tight.

The rescue party of five hundred soldiers had reached by the fourth hour of the second prahar. Daksha, Brahaspati and Kanakhala had accompanied the caravan despite Parvateshwar’s warnings of the risks. Releasing Sati from his grip, Daksha whispered as a small tear escaped his eyes, ‘You are not injured, are you?’

‘I am alright father,’ said Sati self-consciously. ‘Just a few cuts. Nothing serious.’

‘She fought very bravely,’ said Veerini, as she beamed with pride.

‘I think that is a mother’s bias,’ said Sati, as her serious expression was restored. Turning towards Shiva, she continued, ‘It was Shiva who saved the day, father. He figured out the real plan of the Chandravanshis and rallied everyone at the crucial moment. It was because of him that we beat them back.’

‘Oh, I think she’s too generous,’ said Shiva.

She’s impressed. Finally!!

‘She isn’t being generous at all, my Lord,’ said a visibly grateful Daksha. ‘You have started your magic already. We have actually beaten back a terrorist attack. You don’t know how significant this is for us!’

‘But it wasn’t a terrorist attack, your Highness’ said Shiva. ‘It was an attempt to kidnap the princess.’

‘Kidnap?’ asked Daksha.

‘That hooded man certainly wanted her alive and unharmed.’

‘What hooded man?!’ cried Daksha, alarmed.

‘That was the Naga, your Highness,’ said Shiva, surprised at Daksha’s hysterical response. ‘I have seen that man fight. He is an excellent warrior. A little slow in his movements, but excellent all the same. But while fighting Sati he was trying his best not to hurt her.’

The colour drained completely from Daksha’s face. Veerini glared at her husband with a strange mixture of fear and anger. The expressions on their faces made Shiva feel uncomfortable, as if he was intruding on a private family moment.

‘Father?’ asked a worried Sati. ‘Are you alright?’

Hearing no response from Daksha, Shiva turned to Sati and said, ‘Perhaps it’s best if you speak to your family alone. If you don’t mind, I will go check if Nandi and the other soldiers are alright.’

Parvateshwar was walking around his men, checking on the injured and ensuring that they received medical help, with Bhabravya two steps behind. He came up to the Chandravanshi who had been killed by Shiva while protecting Nandi. He roared in horror, ‘This man has been stabbed in the back!’

‘Yes, my Lord,’ said Bhabravya with his head bowed.

‘Who did this? Who broke the sacred rules of combat?’

‘I think it was the foreigner, my Lord. But I heard that he was trying to protect Captain Nandi who had been attacked by this Chandravanshi. And the Chandravanshi himself was not following the combat rules having attacked Nandi below the waist.’

Parvateshwar turned with a withering look at Bhabravya, causing him to cower in fear. ‘Rules are rules,’ he growled. ‘They are meant to be followed even if your enemy ignores them.’

‘Yes, my Lord.’

‘Go make sure that the dead get proper cremations. Including the Chandravanshis.’

‘My Lord?’ asked a surprised Bhabravya. ‘But they are terrorists.’

‘
They
may be terrorists,’ snarled Parvateshwar. ‘But we are Suryavanshis. We are the followers of Lord Ram. There are norms that we follow even towards our enemies. The Chandravanshis will get proper cremations. Is that clear?’

‘Yes, my Lord.’

‘Why do you call the foreigner “Your Lord”?’ asked an injured Arishtanemi lying next to Nandi.

Shiva had just departed after spending half an hour with Nandi and the other injured soldiers. If one saw the injured at this point, it would be impossible to believe that they had fought a battle just a few hours ago. They were talking jovially with each other. Some were ribbing their mates about how they had fallen for the red-herring at the beginning of the battle. In the Kshatriya way, to laugh in the face of death was the ultimate mark of a man.

‘Because he
is
my Lord,’ answered Nandi simply.

‘But he is a foreigner. A caste unmarked foreigner,’ said the Arishtanemi. ‘He is a brave warrior, no doubt. But there are so many brave warriors in Meluha. What makes him so special? And why does he spend so much time with the royal family?’

‘I can’t answer that, my friend. You will get to find out when the time is right.’

The Arishtanemi looked at Nandi quizzically. Then shook his head and smiled. He was a soldier. He bothered himself only with the here and now. Bigger questions did not dwell too long in his mind. ‘In any case, I think the time is right to tell you that you are a brave man, my friend. I saw you fight despite your injury. You don’t know the meaning of the word surrender. I would be proud to have you as my
bhraata!
’

That was a big statement from the Arishtanemi. The bhraata system that was followed in the Meluhan army meant that each soldier up to the rank of a captain was assigned a mate of equal rank. The two bhraatas would be like brothers who would always fight together and look out for each other. They would willingly fight the world for each other, would never love the same woman and would always tell each other the truth, no matter how bitter.

The Arishtanemi were elite soldiers of the empire. An Arishtanemi offered to be a bhraata only to his own kind. Nandi knew that he could never really be the Arishtanemi’s bhraata. He had to stay with the Lord. But the honour of being offered the brotherhood of an Arishtanemi was enough to bring tears to Nandi’s eyes.

‘Don’t get teary on me now,’ chorded the Arishtanemi, wrinkling his nose in amusement.

Nandi burst out in laughter as he slapped the Arishtanemi on his arm.

‘What is your name, my friend?’ asked Nandi.

‘Kaustav,’ replied the Arishtanemi. ‘Someday we shall batde the main Chandravanshi army together, my friend. And by the grace of Lord Ram, we will kill all those bastards!’

‘By Lord Agni, we will!’

‘It was interesting how you got into the Naga’s mind,’ said Brahaspati as he watched Shiva getting the gash on his torso cleaned and dressed.

Shiva had insisted that his injuries receive medical attention only after every other soldier’s wounds had been tended.

‘Well, I can’t really explain it,’ said Shiva. ‘How the Naga would think just seemed so obvious to me.’

‘Well, I can explain it!’

‘Really? What?’

‘The explanation is that you are the omnipotent “N”, whose name cannot be spoken!’ said Brahaspati, opening his eyes wide and conjuring his hands up like an ancient magician.

They burst out laughing, causing Shiva to rock back slightly. The military doctor gave Shiva a stern look, at which he immediately quietened down and let him finish tending to the wound. Having applied the Ayurvedic paste and covering it with the medicinal neem leaf, the doctor bandaged the wound with a cotton cloth.

‘You will need to change that every second day, foreigner,’ said the doctor pointing at the bandage. ‘The royal doctor in Devagiri will be able to do it for you. And don’t let this area get wet for a week. Also, avoid the Somras for this period since you will not be able to take a complete bath.’

‘Oh he doesn’t need the Somras,’ joked Brahaspati. ‘It’s already done all the damage it can on him.’

Shiva and Brahaspati collapsed into helpless laughter again as the doctor walked away, shaking his head in exasperation.

‘But seriously,’ said Brahaspati calming down. ‘Why would they attack you? You have not harmed anybody’

‘I don’t think the attack was on me. I think it was for Sati.’

‘Sati! Why Sati? That’s even more bizarre.’

‘It probably wasn’t specifically for Sati,’ said Shiva. ‘I think the target was the royal family. The primary target was probably the Emperor. Since he wasn’t there, they went for the secondary target, Sati. I think the aim was to kidnap a royal and use that person as leverage.’

Brahaspati did not respond. He seemed worried. Clasping his hands together and bringing them close to his face, he looked into the distance, deep in thought. Shiva reached into his pouch and pulled out his chillum, before carefully filling it with some dried marijuana. Brahaspati turned to look at his friend, unhappy at what he was doing.

‘I’ve never told you this before Shiva and I probably shouldn’t as, well... since you are a free man,’ said Brahaspati. ‘But I consider you my friend. And it is my duty to tell you the truth. I have seen some Egyptian merchants in Karachapa with this marijuana habit. It’s not good for you.’

‘You’re wrong, my friend,’ said Shiva, grinning broadly. ‘This is actually the best habit in the world.’

‘You probably don’t know, Shiva. This has many harmful side effects. And worst of all, it even harms your memory, causing untold damage to your ability to draw on past knowledge.’

Shiva’s face suddenly became uncharacteristically serious. He gazed back at Brahaspati with a melancholic smile. ‘That is exactly why it is good, my friend. No idiot who smokes this is scared of forgetting’

Shiva lit up his chillum, took a deep drag and continued, ‘They are scared of
not
forgetting.’

Brahaspati stared sharply at Shiva, wondering what terrible past could have prompted his friend to get addicted to the weed.