KRISHNA CORIOLIS#4: Lord of Mathura (29 page)

BOOK: KRISHNA CORIOLIS#4: Lord of Mathura
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And the moment of vulnerability passed. 

 

And then both were back in the fray. 

 

Balarama was furious at being struck unawares by Mustika and struck back with his open palm, literally slapping the giant. Because of the considerable difference in their respective heights, he could not slap the giant’s face or shoulders or back. Instead, his slaps landed on Mustika’s backside. He slapped giant again and again and again, relentlessly, intending to show that his open hand alone was sufficient to fight this opponent. 

 

Krishna in turn was angry that he had almost let himself be bested in that moment of vulnerability. As a result, he struck out with a single kick at Sala’s head. Krishna’s foot struck Sala’s forehead. In fact, only the tips of two of Krishna’s toes struck Sala’s head. 

 

They were sufficient to decapitate Sala. 

 

The crown of Sala’s head was smashed to a pulp and torn from his head and body. It splattered across the dust of the field. 

 

Sala’s body stood swaying for a moment. Then collapsed like a sala tree chopped at the trunk. It fell, spewing brains and blood into the dirt.

 

Balarama’s slaps shattered Mustika’s thighbone, hip, ribs, legs. 

 

The giant roared with pain and fell to his knees. 

 

Balarama continued slapping him relentlessly. 

 

Mustika’s shoulders were shattered, his collarbone broken, his chest punctured and reduced to a pulp. 

 

Then Balarama slapped his jaw, smashing the legendary Crooked Jaw to smithereens. 

 

That was the end of Crooked Jaw Mustika. 

 

Both Krishna and Balarama turned and looked at the remaining opponents. 

 

Tosalaka was directly ahead of Krishna, in the next rectangle. Krishna charged at him. 

 

Kuta was confronting Balarama and filled with foolish fury. He saw Balarama charging and charged back at him. 

 

All four fighters met in an explosive collision on the field. 

 

Balarama struck Kuta with his left fist, a single blow. It tore through Kuta’s body, shattering the petrified flesh to pieces. Kuta’s corpse sprawled on the ground. 

 

Krishna caught hold of Tosalaka by the waist in a wrestler’s hug, moved his hands so one was gripping Tosalaka’s upper body and the other hand Tosalaka’s lower body, and literally tore the man into two halves. 

 

Densified by the unnatural power, Tosalaka’s body broke rather than tore. Krishna threw both pieces aside disdainfully. 

 

Then he looked at the rest of the fighters on the field. 

 

One by one, each of them turned and looked at one another, unable to believe what they had just witnessed. 

 

Some looked to Kamsa, others to Jarasandha. 

 

But there was no help to be had from either one. 

 

They made their decision instantly. They decided they would rather be labelled cowards for the rest of their lives than die right here and now. 

 

They turned and ran, heavy feet pounding thunderously as they left the field. 

 

They sounded and looked like a herd of baby elephants fleeing from a pair of angry lions. 

 

In moments, only the dust of their passing remained to mark where they had stood. 

 

Slowly, the dust cleared. 

 

Only Krishna and Balarama remained on the field now. 

 

And Kamsa. 

18

 

 

Balarama
looked at the wrestlers running away from the field and laughed. ‘I thought they were fighters. It seems they are runners as well, bhai.’

 

Krishna grinned. ‘So it seems. Who would have thought elephants could run that fast!’ 

 

Both brothers laughed, relieved at their narrow escape as well pleased as their victory. Hearing their laughter and seeing their change of mood, the crowd began tittering as well. The tittering spread across the field until it burst forth as full-blown laughter. Even the supporters of Kamsa laughed, embarrassed at how easily two stripling cowherd boys had defeated Kamsa’s greatest champions. 

 

Far too many had watched these same champions strut arrogantly on the field of play as well as the field of battle, killing and maiming indiscriminately. They took satisfaction now in watching the arrogant champions themselves killed and maimed. 

 

As one, the crowd rose to its feet, cheering the winners and shouting and celebrating. Assuming the tournament was at an end, the royal musicians began playing a merry tune which in turn led the crowd to dancing. Court dancers, groomed to come on the side field and dance for the audience’s pleasure the instant the game was over, came out and danced, adding to the festive mood. 

 

The news of Krishna’s and Balarama’s success spread throughout the city. But those who waited in the streets, like the Vrishni contingent, did not rise to their feet and dance and celebrate. Not yet. 

 

The Usurper was still alive. The Childslayer. The Demon King of Mathura. 

 

Kamsa still stood on the field, very much alive, seething with rage and impotent fury. 

 

As the dancers danced around him and the musicians played, he roared. At once, his aides passed on his commands, and in another instant the music stopped, the dancing ceased and everyone resumed their seats nervously, for nobody dared ignore Kamsa himself. Not so long as he lived. 

 

‘Enough!’ Kamsa thundered. ‘Enough of this despicable spectacle.’

 

He stepped forward. ‘Seize those two murderers. They have violated the law of the land. I want them arrested and executed within the hour.’

 

He waited for the Imperial Army to do as he commanded. But no soldiers came forward. Nobody saluted or barked orders, following through on his command. 

 

Instead, General Bana stepped forward, almost casually. ‘Apologies, my Lord,’ Bana said, loudly enough to be heard and for his words to be passed on to those too distant to hear them direclty. ‘But the Imperial Army has chosen to join the movement to restore the rightful King to his throne. King Ugrasena, your father.’

 

Kamsa raised both fists in anger. Had Bana been close enough to strike, he would have smashed Bana to pulp with a single blow for his impudence. ‘I demand that Ugrasena be executed at once as well. He is clearly siding with these rebels against the Empire!’

 

Akrura stepped forward, showing himself. ‘Ugrasena has no part in this. We the citizens of the land support his cause of our own accord. It is we who wish that he be released and restored to the throne as is his right.’

 

Kamsa pointed an accusing finger at Akrura. ‘You traitor. I will see to you afterwards. Right now, I will show you what it means to oppose the might of Kamsa and the Magadhan Empire.’ 

 

Kamsa turned to face the royal pavilion. ‘Emperor Jarasandha,’ he called out. ‘My father-in-law and father in truth, I ask that you unleash your Mohini Fauj upon the ungrateful citizenry of Mathura to teach them a lesson. Even my own Army has turned against me, clearly seduced by this Vrishni rebellion. Wipe them all out! Kill every last Vrishni man, woman and child. Exterminate the clan from this earth. Do all this and Mathura is your’s, a part of your great Magadhan Empire!’

 

Jarasandha rose from his seat and turned to go. All his aides and advisors followed him without so much as a backward glance at Kamsa. 

 

Kamsa’s face crumpled. ‘Father!’ he cried. ‘Where are you going? I have need of you! Please stay. Help me quell this rebellion. We shall achieve all your plans!’

 

Jarasandha’s chariot, clearly readied and kept waiting for just this moment, came briskly to a halt before the royal pavilion. The Magadhan paused and glanced scornfully at his son-in-law. ‘Mathura’s troubles are not Magadha’s troubles. You have made your bed here. Now lie in it.’

 

Kamsa’s face showed that he had never expected such treatment, not in a thousand years of imagining. ‘But you want Mathura! I know you do! It is the jewel in the crown of your empire. You said so yourself only last night.’

 

Jarasandha nodded. ‘So it shall be. And I shall have it. But in my own way, at my own time. Soon. Very soon. But first, I shall leave you to sort out your internal political disagreements on your own. My daughters, your wives, have already been sent ahead to their summer palace. They shall await you there, in case you are still able to come visit them after this issue is resolved. If not, then I shall return soon enough to continue my plans with Mathura.’

 

Jarasandha mounted the chariot. Kamsa lost all sense of dignity. He ran after the chariot, crying out. ‘But I am your son-in-law. You love me as a son!’

 

‘And now, I leave you to stand on your own two feet, my son,’ Jarasandha said. Then with one sharp crack of his whip, he spurred his horses forward, and raced the chariot away, leaving Mathura through the deserted army cantonments, the only route not crowded by citizens and militia and Imperial Mathuran troops who were all on duty throughout the city today. 

 

Kamsa watched Jarasandha leave and even in the shape of his back, Krishna saw his uncle’s entire strength leave him.

 

By the time Kamsa turned, he was already a broken man.

 

But he was a broken man with the power of a supermortal and the strength and fury of a rakshasa. 

 


YOU,
’ he cried out in a voice that boiled the air like thunder. ‘
YOU ARE THE SOURCE OF ALL THAT AILS ME…PRESERVER OF MORTALKIND. SO YOU ARE A GOD INCARNATE. NOW LET US SEE IF YOU CAN FACE A VERITABLE GOD AMONG ASURAS.

 

And as all Mathura watched with horrified astonishment, Kamsa began to grow larger, larger, and still larger. Until he once again stood with his head high among the clouds, bigger than he had ever been before in his early transformations as a rakshasa. But still as dense and powerful as he had learned to make himself with the help of Jarasandha’s potions and Putana’s Haihaiya poison. 

 


COME NOW, VISHNU
,’ he roared as he raised his foot and stamped down hard upon the royal pavilion, crushing every last one of his own entourage without caring if they were still loyal to him or not. ‘
LET US SEE IF YOU CAN FULFILL YOUR PROPHECY BEFORE I FINISH DESTROYING MATHURA AND KILLING EVERY LAST YADAVA IN THE CITY!

19

 

 

MATHURA
was in chaos. Kamsa towered above the city, enlarged to such an enormous size, his head could barely be seen from the ground. He stamped about the cantonment area, smashing and killing everyone he could reach. For some reason, his anger was directed at his own supporters and followers—perhaps because of their betrayal. 

 

‘Bhai,’ Balarama said, ‘We should move the people to safety before he turns his attention to them. I shall do it.’

 

Krishna turned to thank Balarama for taking the initiative without argument but Balarama was already racing to the pavilion, shouting instructions. Krishna knew there was not much more he could do there. His presence was better put to use against that tower of destruction on its rampage. 

 

He needed no more than an instant to think the situation through. Kamsa’s enlargement had come as a surprise, but not a shock. After all, Krishna had known that his uncle had once possessed the ability to expand and reduce his size. He had also known that Kamsa had acquired the ability to use the same power to make his body denser while remaining the same size. Somehow, Kamsa had found a way to combine both in secret and had waited until this day to reveal his full ability. 

 

If he lived up to his word, as he would no doubt, all of Mathura could be destroyed by his rampaging. The only way to avoid further casualties was to remove him from Mathura. And in order to do that, Krishna would have to make him take this fight elsewhere. Which left only one place to go. 

 

Krishna flew up, rising up in the sky until he hovered high enough to be noticed by Kamsa. Then, using his power to project his own voice, he addressed his uncle. 

 

‘Uncle Kamsa!’ 

 

Kamsa had just finished pounding most of the court’s nobility and aristocracy to bloody pulp. Krishna had no sympathy for the rich and overbearing overlords who had aided and abetted Kamsa in his reign of atrocities and abuse all these many years, but it was still sickening to see people trampled thus mercilessly. Tearing apart a supermortal wrestling champion in a bout was one thing. This, on the other hand, was simple murder. 

 

Kamsa turned at the sound of Krishna’s voice. He grinned down at the tiny figure hovering in mid air. 

 


MY NEPHEW! DID I SURPRISE YOU? YOU DIDN’T KNOW ABOUT MY ABILITY TO DO THIS, DID YOU? HOW SURPRISING. IT SEEMS THE GREAT DELIVERER IS NOT OMNISCIENT AFTER ALL!

 

Krishna ignored the taunt. ‘Uncle. I shall give you one final chance to surrender and live. Only because of our blood relation. Yield now and I shall have you arrested and imprisoned for life. It is more than you deserve and you know it.’

 

Kamsa chuckled. With his enormous size, it sounded like echoes of a thousand waterfalls crashing down cascades after the monsoons, echoing off a deep ravine’s walls. 

 

‘LIFE IMPRISONMENT? WHY BOTHER. LET’S SETTLE THIS RIGHT HERE AND NOW. IT’S ABOUT TIME. I’VE BEEN WANTING TO FACE YOU, VISHNU, EVER SINCE MY MOTHER RAISED ME ON STORIES OF YOU TAKING REBIRTH TO DESTROY EVIL ON EARTH. MY MOTHER WAS THE SISTER OF THE GREAT LORD RAVANA, DID YOU KNOW THAT? THAT WAS WHEN MY NAME WAS KALA-NEMI, AND YOUR’S WAS RAMA CHANDRA. I ALSO REGRETTED THE FACT THAT WE NEVER GOT TO CONFRONT ONE ANOTHER FACE TO FACE. FINALLY, I HAVE MY CHANCE AND I INTEND TO MAKE THE BEST OF IT. COME ON, FACE ME NOW. OR STAND ASIDE AND WATCH ME DESTROY YOUR PRECIOUS CITY AND PEOPLE!’

BOOK: KRISHNA CORIOLIS#4: Lord of Mathura
6.79Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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