Govinda (The Aryavarta Chronicles) (28 page)

‘Where are they?’

‘Why, Dwaraka is full of them. My father would gladly support them, but … I don’t think many of them would give up their newfound
respect so easily. They earn their own keep as administrators, port officials, medics. A few are soldiers too. Even those
who work as courtesans and attendants, some of them right here in our mansions – you can tell them by the way they carry themselves.
There’s a kind of pride, a simmering confidence they possess, if I can call at that. And you can always, always, tell them
by the way they look at my father … There’s a certain something in their eyes. Love, adoration … I don’t know what to call
it. I’ve seen the contentment, the power even, that they feel by trusting him completely – like they’ve solved one of life’s
greatest mysteries.

‘Everything we do – our scriptures, our notions of duty, all our history and our common sense, all of it tells us that there
is a greater truth that we aspire for, an understanding of some higher knowledge that will give us ultimate liberation. Somehow,
these women find that
in this complex relationship they have with my father. It’s like they become one with the world, they look at every living
creature with loving eyes and tender affection.’

Rukmavati felt tears well up in her eyes. She buried her face in Pradymna’s chest and tried not to cry, but he gently raised
her chin, forcing her to look up. Only then did she realize that he too was fighting back tears.

‘I never really understood, all these years …’ Pradymna said, his voice hoarse. ‘You know, he’d always joke and claim he had
no time for matters like falling in love, or marriage, because Dwaraka was everything to him. And that’s what I used to think,
too. I used to think that it’s the land of hope and freedom, that it was the only thing in life worth anything … Then I found
you, my love. Now, I understand the empty life my father has chosen for himself. Nothing is more precious to my father than
the people of these lands. Govinda Shauri cannot belong to any one person. He never could …’

‘
YOUR COUSIN DOESN’T LIKE GOVINDA, DOES HE?’ PANCHALI
ventured as she pulled irately at the gauzy veil she had worn to King Dhritarastra’s royal assembly at Hastina that morning,
forgetting the jewelled hair-pin that held it in place. Hissing at the slight pain she inflicted on herself, she walked over
to the burnished mirror to carefully remove both pin and veil. Turning around, she threw them onto the bed in exasperation.
Dharma came over to help her undo the heavy necklace that Dhristarastra had gifted her long ago. It was not an ornament she
liked too much, but to not wear it to the assembly would have bordered on an insult to the king. Panchali nodded her thanks
for the assistance as Dharma took off the necklace and placed it on the table.

‘Perhaps Govinda
was
being hasty – turning up with his men the way he did,’ Dharma said casually, in reply to her earlier question. ‘The girl
was, after all, spoken for by Shisupala. Having said that,’ he
added quickly as he caught Panchali glaring at him, ‘if the girl sought to marry Pradymna, the young man was duty-bound to
oblige her. As a father, Govinda has every right to be involved in the affair.’

‘This is about more than romance and hurt egos, Dharma. If the alliance between Chedi and Vidharbha had gone as planned then
Dwaraka would effectively have been cut off from central Aryavarta. Sooner or later, Shisupala and Jarasandha would have attacked
them and we wouldn’t have been able to go to their aid. Govinda has achieved what many considered impossible, and that too
without a war. Here, in the centre, the Kuru–Panchala alliance holds strong, while the Chedi–Vidharbha alliance has been foiled.
Shisupala and Syoddhan did not actually fight Govinda – don’t you realize what that means? Already, Jarasandha’s power has
been undermined. His most faithful followers have begun to think for themselves instead of blindly supporting him. Vasusena
will follow Syoddhan, and half the vassals to the Kashi kings are kinsmen to the Angas. It’s like a stack of clay pots – pull
one out from the bottom and they all come tumbling down.’

‘Then the Yadus are asking for war …’

‘War? Hardly,’ Panchali scoffed. ‘War was averted the moment we were married and the alliance between Panchala and Kuru was
cast in stone. Since then, Subadra’s marriage to Partha, the burning of Kandava, and your investiture as king have all served
to deflect war further, that too in a way the Emperor probably did not foresee at all. Why, Jarasandha has already drawn back
most of his troops and waits uneasily for Govinda’s next move. He seems to be on the defensive. If you think about it, it
also explains why Govinda was willing to give up the secret of the passage through the mountains – which is what, I suspect,
really irked Syoddhan.’

‘As it probably does many others,’ Dharma pointed out. He lay down on the bed with a tired sigh, and said, ‘Rukmi’s scouts
had no idea of its existence, even though one end of the passageway opens out on to their lands. It raises many questions,
including how the Yadus came to know of it or even whether they built it. The latter seems unlikely, though. Something like
that would take years, decades to
carve out and it certainly couldn’t be done surreptitiously. The only likely explanation I can think of is that the passage
must be a natural feature. The Yadus must have found it when they were exploring the area around Anarrta during the building
of Dwaraka. No one’s ever really bothered much with that region. In fact, the marshland and mountains were largely uninhabited
till Dwaraka was established.’

Panchali considered the argument as she walked around the room putting out all the lamps, save one. She drew a latticed iron
shutter over the last lit lamp before slipping into bed next to Dharma. ‘In that case,’ she said at length, continuing the
conversation, ‘Govinda is in an even more powerful position than I had thought. True, he had other motivations, like gaining
an alliance with Vidharbha and, of course, one supposes he loves his son. But he wouldn’t have given up what essentially seems
to be a strategic secret unless he was sure that his position was strong.’

‘In
that
case,’ Dharma pointedly said, ‘he’s made a tactical mistake. He is not strong. He still faces the risk of war, and this time
with all of Aryavarta. At the end of the day Jarasandha is the Emperor of Aryavarta and we owe him our allegiance. Even if
that means war against Dwaraka, against our friends …’

For an instant Panchali seemed lost in her thoughts. ‘The Emperor of Aryavarta … Hah! The power to create and destroy, to
turn kin against kin and friend against friend, in the hands of one man …’ she softly muttered. She yawned and stretched,
exhausted from her long day and their rather fast ride home from Hastina. And then she was asleep. She did not notice the
peculiar expression that flickered across Dharma’s face, nor that he lay awake for a long time afterwards.

The next morning, Dharma sent for Dwaipayana. The Vyasa arrived as soon as he could.

In these times, it took just a few days to travel through the Kuru kingdom. When Kandava was burnt, Takshaka Naga and his
people had migrated north to Kuru’s fields at the border of the kingdom. There they had used their skill in working rock and
stone to build
a passage that connected directly to the five rivers that patterned their way through the Sindhu and Gandhara kingdoms. Trade
with the Danavas and other nations to the west had boomed beyond expectation and it had soon become necessary to extend a
section of the Great Road from Hastina to Indr-prastha. Meanwhile work had begun on a wide, well-cobbled caravan trail from
the northern pass, running right through Western Kuru. It met the Great Road at Indr-prastha, making it much easier for foreign
travellers to enter central Aryavarta from the northern borders.

Despite such glory Dharma had one regret. He could never forget that his triumph rested on the achievements of others.

It had been Partha who burnt down Kandava, and Govinda who had returned with a treaty with the Naga king Takshaka, negotiated
and sealed. Govinda had also helped build the newly appointed army of Western Kuru, sending his war-hardy captain Daruka to
help train the forces. Even Panchali had played a part in the rising prosperity of the kingdom. She had suggested floating
barges on the River Yamuna to transport heavy goods and livestock south and east, to the other nations of Aryavarta. This
had prompted many a citizen of Aryavarta, even people from Eastern Kuru, to move and settle down in and around Indr-prastha
to ply their trade there. A large number of migrants had followed to offer the many services that a booming population required,
from entertainment to physical labour.

Indeed, Dharma was now monarch of a bustling, prosperous nation, one he ruled from his ethereal capital, which many said was
the most beautiful city in all of Aryavarta. Yet nothing here was of his making. Now he had an idea, a way to ensure that
he could indelibly etch his own mark on history.

He shared it with Dwaipayana the moment the two of them were alone.

Dharma then sat back, waiting anxiously for the scholar’s reaction. He was relieved when Dwaipayana smiled.

‘I’d hoped that you’d see the duty that lies before you soon enough, Dharma,’ Dwaipayana began, ‘and so you have. It gladdens
my heart to think that a worthy, truly noble man will reign over Aryavarta after all these years, and I wish with all my heart
that it will be a long, peaceful reign that lasts not only my lifetime as the Vyasa but also my son Suka’s. But, there is
more to becoming Emperor than just being crowned, my son. First, the kings of Aryavarta must accept you as their liege-lord.
Second, the noble scholar–priests must sanctify your ritual sacrifice and willingly perform your coronation. Above all, the
gods must accept your offering and consecrate you as Emperor. Perhaps the third is the easiest of all. In your heart, in the
depths of your conscience, do you believe that you deserve to rule? For then the gods can’t deny you the opportunity and,
for that matter, neither can we of the priesthood.’

‘Then it’s up to the kings of Aryavarta.’

‘Yes. You must get them to accept your dominion. You’ll have no problem with the Panchalas, thanks to your wife, and as for
the Kurus, I assure you that the Grandsire Bhisma and I will be happy to advise your uncle to support you. Your cousin Syoddhan
has many allies and they too can be made to accept you as Emperor. But there remains a fundamental problem. To solve it you’ll
need some help. You’ll need Govinda Shauri.’

Dharma regarded the Elder with open disappointment. ‘Govinda?’

‘Surely you know the old adage, that your greatest enemy’s enemy is your best friend …’

‘Jarasandha …’

‘Yes, Jarasandha. Dharma, make no mistake. Jarasandha is Emperor and as king of Western Kuru you owe him your allegiance.
For you to dethrone him and then declare yourself Emperor would be … unwise. The legitimacy of your actions should never be
compromised.’

Dharma frowned. ‘But ought I not to first establish myself as a conqueror? What better way to do that than to …?’

The Vyasa interrupted him with an impatient shake of his head. ‘Dharma, listen to me. Aryavarta doesn’t need civil war. Everyone
knows that. Even Jarasandha. As I said, I can get many of the kings – your uncle Dhritarastra and your cousin Syoddhan included
– to accept you as their Emperor, provided we don’t upset their reign, or their consciences. For both of these you need to
let Govinda bring down the Emperor for you. Let it play out as a personal affair between the two men, with you doing nothing
more than you would as a friend and cousin. I, too, won’t interfere, except perhaps to ensure discretion and smooth a few
ruffled egos once the deed is done. Then, when Aryavarta lies bereft of leadership due to Govinda Shauri’s actions, you will
step forward to bear this burden. Trust me, my son, on no account should you be the one to dethrone Jarasandha; at least,
not directly.’

‘But what’s to stop Govinda from making a bid for the empire? If he kills Jarasandha …’

‘Emperor? That cowherd? Hah!’ the Vyasa sneered. ‘Don’t worry, Govinda knows better than to lose the legitimacy he’s gained
over the years by risking the wrath of the Firstborn. Besides, he knows that if
he
wants to be Emperor it
will
take civil war. No one wants to avoid that more than he does. Get him to come here at once. He’ll be useful, you’ll see.’

Dharma flinched inwardly at Dwaipayana’s casual dismissal of Govinda, but forced himself to ignore it. Taking a deep breath,
he nodded his agreement. He felt uneasy, yet strangely relieved as he remembered what Panchali had said to him earlier about
the way Govinda had slowly, almost surreptitiously, deflected Jarasandha from conflict and placed him on the defensive. On
balance, though, Dharma had no doubt that Govinda was the right man for the task. This time he did not wait till the next
morning to send a message.

The messenger from Indr-prastha arrived at Dwaraka well past midnight and handed over his scroll to the captain on duty. Sealed
as it was with Dharma’s insignia, the scroll found its way to Balabadra’s hands without delay. The burly man cursed at being
woken up at the late hour; nevertheless, he opened the scroll. He perused it quickly
and went to look for Govinda. He found his brother out of his bed, standing on one of the many terraces of their mansion,
looking out pensively at the foamy night sea.

Govinda’s curly hair was dishevelled and he wore his robe as a makeshift wrap around his bare hips. ‘Don’t ask,’ he said as
Balabadra gave him a questioning look, wondering mischievously which woman had kept his brother up so late.

‘All right. I won’t.’ Balabadra held out the scroll. ‘Dharma’s invited you to Hastina. Any guesses?’

‘Only that we have some eventful and busy days ahead. It’s only a matter of time before the imperial conquest begins.’

‘
Conquest
? Govinda, do you realize what you’re saying? The first thing any would-be Emperor has to do is …’

‘Defeat Jarasandha, I know,’ Govinda replied. ‘That’s why Dharma wants me. Rather, that’s why Dwaipayana has advised him to
call for me. And the amusing thing about it is that the Vyasa will help me get rid of Jarasandha. He will help me every step
of the way.’

‘Are you sure? How do you …?’

‘Yes, I am. I’m pretty sure that Dwaipayana intends to see Dharma as Emperor of Aryavarta. What better way to rid himself
of Jarasandha without really seeming a traitor than to enlist me, Jarasandha’s lifelong enemy? Who can fault Dharma for my
deeds? Neither of us can really justify dethroning the Emperor of our own accord, but if we act together we just might succeed.
As they say, all is fairly done that’s done for duty and the empire. It’s not a bad plan, if you ask me.’

‘And I’ll wager it is exactly as you’d expected?’

‘More or less …’ Govinda cheekily admitted.

The two brothers exchanged glances and shared a robust laugh.

‘So,’ Balabadra said, ‘I see now where you’ve been leading us all this while. Here I’ve been wondering how to defend our people
against the inevitable, especially since everything that happened at Vidharbha. I should have known that you’d go one step
further and make plans to pounce straight at the enemy’s throat.’

‘You know we can never live peacefully as long Jarasandha remains
Emperor. Sooner or later, Agraja, he will strike us. He
will
attack Dwaraka. Can we really afford to wait and watch?’

‘But why such a complex plan?’

‘Because it isn’t just about killing Jarasandha. It’s about doing it with honour. You and I can’t get away with it; we’d only
be called selfish murderers. And it’s not us but Dwaraka that’ll be forced to pay the price,’ Govinda said. ‘Like it or not,
Jarasandha is Emperor. We need a very good reason to go against the man so many kings consider their liege-lord. This way,
complex though it is, we move against our enemy with Dwaipayana’s blessings. He’ll ensure that everyone’s conscience is mollified.’