PRINCE IN EXILE (124 page)

‘You said you had a key, what is it?’ Rama snapped out the words haltingly, one at a time. His hand shook so badly, he had to struggle to bring the arrow to bear again on Vali. He could not quite manage to aim it at the vanar’s throat though, that was now beyond his depleted abilities. As his hand wavered spastically, he sensed a flicker at the top left corner of his vision. ‘You offered me a proposition. Explain yourself now or die.’ 

Vali chuckled. ‘Die. Yes, of course. You came here to kill me, after all. And of course, after you hear my next words, you’re still free to do so.’ He looked up at Rama with a sudden, dangerous slyness. ‘The key? Why, I know Ravana personally, it was he who came to me in that cave and helped me kill Mayavi in exchange for a bargain. That is how I gained my knowledge of Brahman sorcery, although I never use it until the very last moment, to ensure success against my opponent. But here’s the thing you wish to know. When I came to know Ravana, I also came to learn—without his knowing—the secret of his only weakness,
the means by which he can be killed
.’ 

Vali took a deep breath and exhaled, to underline the significance of his revelation. ‘And the proposition? That should be obvious by now. Make with me the same alliance you made with Sugreeva. Kill my brother, and declare publicly your support for my rule of Kiskindha. And I will give you the vanar sena you desire. They will fight no better or worse than they would have if Sugreeva sat on the throne. But with that army, I will give you the secret that will ensure your victory. I will show you
how to kill Ravana
.’ 

Vali’s glittering eyes watched Rama’s face intently another moment. When there was no immediate response, the vanar leaned forward. ‘Make this alliance now and you will regain your lost mate.’ 

He added sibilantly: ‘
For Sita
’
s sake
.’ 

And he held out his paw, offering it to Rama even though there was still no less than three yards distance between them. To take that outstretched hand, Rama would have to lower his bow and go to Vali. 

The flicker recurred at the upper left edge of Rama’s vision, then suddenly resolved into a blurred shape, and then a form. Rama squeezed his eyes, trying to focus his vision. For a brief instant, the world swam and rippled, then the form materialised briefly over Vali’s right shoulder and hope lurched in Rama’s heart. Vali’s eyes, fixed on Rama, saw something, perhaps even a reflection of something in Rama’s pupils, and the vanar’s lips curled back, revealing razor-sharp yellow teeth as he began to sketch a sorcerous gesture. 

At that instant, Rama’s vision cleared just for a fraction of a second, and he thought he saw Vali clearly at last, for the first time since he had first entered the chamber and aimed at the vanar’s throat, and he tugged back the arrow to the limit of the cord and loosed. 

Angad roared with fury as he threw himself at Vali. Vali’s hand unleashed the sorcerous spell it was sketching, and it crackled and exploded in Angad’s face, deflecting his leap and throwing him aside. But in that instant, as Vali’s attention was directed away from Rama and his sorcerous spell lifted for the briefest of instants, Rama’s arrow left its cord, and, in the way of all arrows, once loosed, it could no longer be called back. 

Like harsh words spoken, like an epithet from the throat of a wronged man, like a curse issuing from the lips of an outraged saint, the arrow flew the brief distance—the very distance that Rama would have had to cover to take Vali’s hand and seal the alliance—and with a soft liquid noise, it found its mark and sank deeply into Vali’s throat at the moment he was most vulnerable, his attention focussed on Angad instead of Rama for that fatal moment. 

The vanar gagged on his own blood as the powerful artery in his throat was severed. His hands flew to his wound, clapping his own neck as blood gushed out and sprouted in thick ropes. His mouth opened wide but only a gurgling babble emerged, then a shower of blood and spittle. He sank to the ground, to the rich, luxuriant tigerskins and pantherfur laid out for his comfort, and, choking on his own blood, coughing up the last of his life-breath, Vali the Usurper died. 

TEN 

Rama stood on the edge of Mount Rishimukha, looking westward towards the redmist ranges. At his feet lay the great valley, green and gleaming in the morning sun. Lakshman came up to stand beside him. They stood together for a moment, exiled prince and his brother. The wind whipped their rough garments, tugged at their tightly wound hair, made their eyes tear. 

‘They are here,’ Lakshman said. ‘King Sugreeva has come himself, along with the others. They await you.’ 

Rama nodded and turned. He walked to the same clearing where he had first met the exiled vanar king. King Sugreeva sat in much the same place he had sat that first day, but the difference was dramatic. The reinstated king looked weary but happy, happier than one would have thought he could be. On his head he wore the ivory crown of Kiskindha. Beside him stood Prince Angad wearing his own crown, carved from the horns of a buffalo. His wounds were healing quickly, but the pent-up anger and frustration Rama had seen that first day had been replaced by a sense of deep contentment and something more,
could it be
…
love
? Yes, there was no other word that could describe the emotion that shone in his wet eyes. 

‘Lord Rama Chandra,’ Sugreeva said. ‘You have brought great happiness and joy to the vanars of our nation. I grieve for the brother who died, but I rejoice for the tyrant who had to fall in order for Kiskindha to regain its peace of mind and dignity of life. That would not be possible without you.’ 

‘King Sugreeva,’ Rama said formally. ‘I did only what I had promised.’ 

Sugreeva nodded gravely. ‘And now I will do as I promised.’ 

He looked up at Angad. Angad stepped forward and knelt before Rama. ‘My lord Rama,’ he said, the emotion in his voice unrestrained. ‘As I lay there wounded on the floor of the throne room, regaining consciousness slowly, I heard much of what Vali the Usurper spoke to you. I heard his offer to you, the power and knowledge he offered that could well make the difference between your regaining your lost wife or losing her forever. It took a great force of will to resist such an offer and keep your promise to my father.’ 

Rama fought back the anguish that threatened to overwhelm him. ‘To obey one’s dharma is the easy path, Angad. It is taking the other path that is the difficult way. I merely did as I had promised. I kept my bargain.’ He paused. ‘But more than that, I did what was right. Vali was an evil being. Perhaps once he had been no more than a rough and aggressive vanar too full of his own royal power to resist going astray. But the Vali I saw was no less than an asura. In fact,’ he finished quietly, ‘he even said as much to me. So I was also fulfilling my greater dharma as a Kshatriya, which is to strike out evil wherever I encounter it.’ 

‘Just so,’ Angad said. ‘When Hanuman came to us and told us those many times how great a soldier of dharma you were, we did not take him seriously. Now, we know that you are no less than a maha-yoddha. The ultimate champion of dharma this world has ever seen.’ 

Rama bowed his head. ‘You embarrass me with too much praise, Prince Angad. Please, rise. If we are to fight together, you cannot keep bowing to me thus. It will make it difficult to stand back to back in battle!’ 

Angad wiped the tears from his cheeks and smiled a vanar smile. ‘Modest you may be, Rama. But every vanar in Kiskindha knows your greatness now. Word of your great exploits on our behalf have travelled to every last being in our kingdom. You will have not just the loyalty of my soldiers but their fierce love as well. And as you must know by now, no other species loves or hates as passionately as vanars.’ 

Rama didn’t argue the point. He put a hand on Angad’s shoulder and said, ‘My friend, let me just say that I could not wish for a mortal army any more than the vanar sena you lead to follow me into battle against Ravana.’ 

‘Yes,’ Lakshman said. ‘I second my brother’s sentiments, my lords. Pray, may I ask when will the vanar sena of Kiskindha be prepared to leave? It is a long march to the sea and the sooner we depart, the sooner we can begin our attempt to rescue Sita.’ Rama did not mind Lakshman’s asking these questions. Lakshman was unable to conceal his own impatience as successfully as Rama, and they were both aching to be on their way. Every day spent here on the idyllic slopes of Rishimukha seemed a betrayal of Sita and a cruel extension of her suffering. 

These past few days—as they had waited here for the vanar nation to restore its former, rightful king, and for Sugreeva to put his reclaimed nation into order—had been a torture to both brothers. Each meal an arduous challenge, each night a writhing nest of serpentine thoughts. 

In response to Lakshman’s words, spoken politely yet with painful honesty, King Sugreeva gestured to Hanuman to come forward. The vanar came at once, walking straight and tall like a mortal. Rama had seen the way the vanar had changed since the fall of Vali. He had begun to display a pride and confidence he had lacked before. Hope had taken root in his heart and was flourishing. Rama had great hopes for this one. After all, it was no coincidence that had made him glimpse Hanuman watching him from the trees that day at Janasthana, after all the years that the vanar had successfully spied on them without being noticed. Their meeting was part of the great karmic pattern that was being played out. 

‘Hanuman,’ King Sugreeva said. ‘Angad. Vinata. Nila. Susena. Satabali.’ Each of the vanars whose names he called out came forward one by one, until they stood before Rama and Lakshman, bowing and joining their hands gracefully in greeting. 

‘Rama,’ Sugreeva said, rising from his seat. ‘These are the generals I have chosen to lead the armies of vanars. I am sending them forth throughout the world. While you accompany Angad and the army of Kiskindha southwards, they will go as fast as the wind and assemble the armies of our fellow vanar tribes. I have chosen them for their blood-links to each of the five major tribes. They will assemble those armies and join you at a prearranged point on your way south. Trust me, you will not have to wait even a day for them. When required, vanars can move as swiftly as the wind god himself, and these proud specimens of our race will neither stop to feed nor rest until they have brought you those great armies.’ 

Rama and Lakshman exchanged surprised glances. Rama spoke with genuine bewilderment. He had assumed that the vanar king had kept him waiting these past days in order to assemble the army of Kiskindha. He had had no clue of these other arrangements. ‘Lord Sugreeva, I do not follow. What are these five armies you speak of? Our pact was only for the army of Kiskindha.’ 

Sugreeva’s voice was fatherly, his eyes soft and benevolent. ‘Rama, a moment ago you just described how it was your dharmic duty to root out all evil. In the same manner, it has now become our duty to find your abducted wife and return her safely unto you. The demonlord of Lanka has long been a scourge to all righteous people who follow dharma and seek peace and love. By committing this heinous crime against a man as noble as yourself, he has earned the enmity of our entire kind. Not only ours, but other races as well. These five armies are only the vanar sena, Rama. There is more to come yet. Much more.’ 

‘My lord, I don’t understand.’ 

A vanar messenger arrived then, loping through the trees. The discussion was adjourned briefly as the messenger whispered briefly into the king’s ears. Sugreeva spoke a brief response aloud. ‘Very well, we will be done here in a moment. Tell them not to rest, time is of the essence. They will leave forthwith.’ 

Rama waited with barely restrained eagerness until the courier bowed and kissed his king’s paws in the traditional gestures, then left, loping back the way he had come as swiftly as he had arrived. Sugreeva stroked his chest fur for a moment in a gesture that was now familiar to Rama, contemplating something. Finally, he resumed. 

‘There is much more work to do, Rama. If you will bear with me, I think it best if you were to start on your way at once. I know how impatient your brother and you are to be gone, and have arranged things so that you may achieve your goal at the earliest. Please pardon my reluctance to explain further at this time. Suffice it to say that I am sending forth Hanuman on a sixth errand. I have no doubt that he will find success in that important mission but until he does, I prefer that you wait and see the result for yourself. Know only this, that by the time you reach the southern shores and are in sight of Lanka, you will have at your command one of the greatest armies ever assembled. And the most loyal.’ 

Rama clasped Sugreeva’s hands. ‘My lord. My friend. You exceed my expectations. I do not know how to thank you …’ 

‘Thank me by killing Ravana,’ Sugreeva said firmly. ‘Rid all worlds of that menace once and for all. And then, if it pleases you to pass this way again, on your way home to Ayodhya, I will be glad to welcome you, your wife, and your brother at Kiskindha in the royal manner you deserve. I fully understand your reluctance to stay with me and enjoy my hospitality after killing Vali. You have a mission of your own and cannot truly rest until it is accomplished. But once you have regained your wife—and I do not for an instant doubt that you will regain her, Rama—why, after that happy reunion, I look forward to showing you the wealth of vanar love and hospitality. It is a great thing you have done for us, Rama and Lakshman. And we would show you how widely you have altered the history of vanarkind with your courageous and self-effacing actions.’