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Authors: Amish Tripathi

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BOOK: Scion of Ikshvaku
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The Malayaputra turned to Ram. ‘I warned him… You warned him… He just ran into…’

Ram closed his eyes and shook his head in frustration. ‘Put this poor fool out of his misery.’

Arishtanemi looked at the Asura lying prone at his feet. He went down on one knee. He bent close, so that his expression was visible only to the Asura, and sneered slightly before he carried out Ram’s order.

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Chapter 17
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Ram signalled for the party to halt once again.

‘These people are beyond all limits of incompetence,’ said Lakshman, as he steered his horse close to his brother.

Ram, Lakshman and Arishtanemi looked into the distance, at what appeared to be the Asura camp. They had barricaded themselves for a veritable siege, but it was not exactly a sterling example of military genius. The entire camp was surrounded by high wooden palisade fencing, held together with hemp rope. Whereas this provided an adequate defence against arrows, spears and other missiles, a good fire would wreak havoc with this barricade. A stream flowing by the camp had been left unfenced. It was too deep for warriors to wade through on foot, but mounted soldiers could easily ride across.

‘I’m sure they imagine that the unguarded opening at the stream will serve as bait for the unsuspecting,’ laughed Arishtanemi.

As if expecting the enemy cavalry to attempt an attack by riding across the shallow stream, the Asuras had dug a small trench on the far side, just short of the bank, which had been crudely camouflaged. Asura archers, hidden within the trench, could rain a shower of arrows on enemy riders once they were mid-stream. In theory, it was an effective military tactic. The execution, however, was shoddy and amateurish.

A dull splash had sounded from the ground nearby alerting Ram to the possibility of the trench. Owing to its proximity to the stream, water had seeped through, making the trench slippery; it had not been adequately waterproofed. A soldier must have slipped.

In what seemed like another stroke of amateur brilliance, the Asuras had built a
machan
atop a tree, seemingly overlooking the trench. The
machan
had been built with the same idea in mind, to man it with archers who would fire at enemy soldiers crossing the stream. However, the
machan
was empty. This gave Ram an easy solution to the matter of the Asura soldiers hidden in the trench.

Ram crooned gently in the horse’s ear; as the animal became still, he reached for an arrow, nocked it in one fluid movement and took aim.

‘The arrow cannot curve in flight and fall into the trench with force, prince,’ objected Arishtanemi. ‘They are positioned deep in the ground. You cannot hit them this time.’

As Ram adjusted for the wind, he whispered, ‘I’m not aiming for the trench, Arishtanemi
ji
.’

He pulled the string back and released the missile as he flicked the fletching, making the arrow spin furiously as it sped forward. The missile hit the main rope that tethered the
machan,
slashing it cleanly. As the rope snapped, the logs came loose and thundered down, many falling right into the trench.

‘Brilliant!’ Arishtanemi laughed.

These were logs with which a
machan
had been built: good enough to injure, not to kill. Frantic shouts emanated from the trench.

Lakshman looked at Ram. ‘Should we—’

‘No,’ he interrupted Lakshman. ‘We’ll wait and watch. I don’t want to trigger a battle. I hope to take them alive.’

A faint smile played on Arishtanemi’s lips.

Yells of distress and anger continued to emerge from the trench. Perhaps the Asuras were clearing the logs that had landed on them. Soon enough, an Asura popped up, followed by others who dragged themselves out. The tallest, obviously the leader, surveyed his men. He turned around defiantly and stared at his opponents.

‘That is Subahu,’ offered Arishtanemi. ‘Tadaka’s son and their military chief.’

Subahu’s left arm had been dislocated by a fallen log, but the rest of him appeared unharmed. He pulled out his sword; it took some effort to do so, for his left arm was disabled with the injury, and he was unable to hold his scabbard. He held his sword aloft and roared in defiance. His soldiers followed his cue.

Ram was thoroughly bemused now. He did not know whether to laugh at, or applaud, this foolhardy heroism that bordered on unheard-of stupidity.

‘Oh, for Lord Parshu Ram’s sake,’ groaned Lakshman. ‘Are these people mad? Can’t they see that we have fifty mounted soldiers on our side?’


Satyam Ekam!
’ bellowed Subahu.


Satyam Ekam!
’ shouted the other Asuras.

Ram was astonished that the Asuras still persisted with what seemed like foolishness, despite what Guru Vishwamitra had said. He turned around and was annoyed at what he saw. ‘Lakshman, where is the Ayodhya standard? Why haven’t you raised it?’

‘What?’ asked Lakshman. He quickly looked back and realised that the soldiers behind him had raised the banner of the Malayaputras. The mission had been tasked by Vishwamitra, after all.

‘Do it now!’ shouted Ram, not taking his eyes off the Asuras, who appeared to be preparing to charge.

Lakshman pulled out the flag lying folded in the bag attached to the horse saddle. He unfurled it and held high the standard under which the Ayodhyans marched to battle. It was a white cloth with a red circular sun in the centre, its rays streaming out in all directions. At the bottom of the standard, suffused in the brightness of the rays of the sun, was a magnificent tiger appearing to leap out.

‘Charge!’ shouted Subahu.


Satyam Ekam!
’ cried the Asuras as they took off.

Ram raised a balled fist and shouted aloud, ‘
Ayodhyatah Vijetaarah!

It was the war cry of the Ayodhyans.
The conquerors from the unconquerable city!

Lakshman held the standard high and roared. ‘
Ayodhyatah Vijetaarah!

The Asuras stopped in their tracks as they gaped at the two princes and the Ayodhya flag. They had come to a halt a mere fifty feet from where Ram’s horse stood still.

Subahu edged forward slowly, holding his sword low, non-threateningly.

‘Are you from Ayodhya?’ asked Subahu, as he reached close enough to be heard.

‘I am the crown prince of Ayodhya,’ said Ram. ‘Surrender and I swear by the honour of Ayodhya, you will not be harmed.’

Subahu’s sword fell from his suddenly limp hand as he went down on his knees. As did the other Asuras. Some of them were whispering to each other. But it was loud enough to reach Ram’s ears.

‘Shukracharya…’

‘Ayodhya…’

‘The voice of
Ekam
…’

Ram, Lakshman and the Malayaputras were ceremoniously led into the Asura camp. The fourteen Asura soldiers were received by Tadaka; the women quickly got down to tending to the injuries of their men, who had been disarmed by the Malayaputras.

The hosts and the guests eventually settled down in the central square. After a quick round of meagre refreshments, Ram addressed the Malayaputra military chief. ‘Arishtanemi
ji
, please leave me alone with the Asuras.’

‘Why?’ asked Arishtanemi.

‘I would like to speak with them alone.’

Lakshman objected vehemently. ‘
Dada
, when I said that we shouldn’t attack these people, I didn’t mean that they are good and we should talk to them. I just meant that it is beneath us to attack these morons. Now that they have surrendered, we’re done with them. Let’s leave them to the Malayaputras and return to Ayodhya.’

‘Lakshman,’ said Ram. ‘I said I would like to speak with them.’

‘What will you talk about,
Dada
?’ persisted Lakshman, beyond caring that he was within earshot of the Asuras. ‘These people are savages. They are animals. They are the remnants of those who survived the wrath of Lord Rudra. Don’t waste your time on them.’

Ram’s breathing slowed down as his body stiffened imperceptibly. His face acquired an expression of forbidding calm. Lakshman immediately recognised it for what it was: a sign of deep anger welling up beneath the still waters of his brother’s essentially cool personality. He also knew that this anger was coupled with unrelenting stubbornness. He threw up his hands in a gesture of frustrated surrender.

Arishtanemi shrugged. ‘All right, you can talk to them. But it is not advisable that you do it in our absence.’

‘I have taken note of your advice. Thank you! But I trust them,’ said Ram.

Tadaka and Subahu heard Ram’s words. It took them by surprise because they had been considered the enemy for so long.

Arishtanemi gave in. However, he also made sure the Asuras heard him loud and clear. ‘Fine, we’ll move away. But we will be battle-ready, mounted on horseback. At the slightest sign of trouble, we’ll ride in and kill them all.’

As Arishtanemi turned to leave, Ram repeated his directive, this time to his protective brother. ‘I would like to speak to them
alone
, Lakshman.’

‘I’m not leaving you alone with them,
Dada
.’

‘Lakshman…’

‘I am not leaving you alone,
Dada
!’

‘Listen, brother, I need…’

Lakshman raised his voice. ‘I am not leaving you alone,
Dada
!’

‘All right,’ said Ram, giving in.

Arishtanemi and the Malayaputra warriors lined up at the border of the camp with the stream behind them, mounted on horses, ready to ride to Ram and Lakshman’s rescue at the first hint of trouble. The brothers were seated on a raised platform in the central square, with the Asuras gathered around them. Subahu wore an arm sling; he sat in front, beside his mother, Tadaka.

‘You are committing slow suicide,’ said Ram.

‘We are only following our law,’ said Tadaka.

Ram frowned. ‘What do you intend to achieve by continually attacking the Malayaputras?’

‘We hope to save them. If they come to our side, reject their false beliefs and listen to the call of the
Ekam
, they will save their own souls.’

‘So, you think you are saving them by persistently harassing them, interfering in their rituals, and even trying to kill them.’

‘Yes,’ said Tadaka, making it obvious that her strange logic was irrefutable to her. ‘And, really, it is not we who are trying to save the Malayaputras. It is, in fact, the True One, the
Ekam
himself! We are mere instruments.’

‘But if the
Ekam
is on your side, how come the Malayaputras have been thriving for centuries? How do you explain that the people of the Sapt Sindhu, almost all of whom reject your interpretation of the
Ekam
, have been dominant for so long? Why haven’t you Asuras conquered India once again? Why isn’t the
Ekam
helping you?’

‘The Lord is testing us. We haven’t been sufficiently true to his path.’

‘Testing you?’ asked Ram. ‘Is the
Ekam
making the Asuras lose every single major battle they have fought for centuries, for millennia actually, just so he can test you?’

Tadaka did not respond.

‘Have you considered that he may not be testing you at all?’ asked Ram. ‘Maybe he is trying to teach you something? Maybe he is trying to tell you that you have to change with the times? Didn’t Shukracharya himself say that if a tactic has led to failure, then persisting with it unquestioningly, in the wild hope of a different outcome, is nothing short of insanity?’

‘But how can we live by the rules of these disgusting, decadent Devas who worship everything in theory but nothing in practice?’ asked Tadaka.

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