The Aryavarta Chronicles Kurukshetra: Book 3 (48 page)

‘So, all we have to do is lay down our weapons? And cover our heads and eyes? Hu!’ Dharma exclaimed. ‘Are you sure, Govinda? This sounds stupid. Hardly like a strategy to repel a feared astra-weapon.’

‘I’m sure, Dharma. Absolutely sure. You see, Ghora Angirasa did not discover this weapon alone. He had a student…’ Govinda waited, letting the implications sink in.

Fear and revulsion flickered across some of the faces but was dispelled with practised politeness. The anger, however, stayed. Govinda met their enraged gazes without flinching. ‘I will not justify its discovery. Nor will I apologize for it. If you can bring yourselves to, consider for a moment the circumstances of its creation. Imagine living in terror of footsteps at the door of your hut, of soldiers with heavy iron weapons who would drag you out in the middle of the night, rape men and women alike in a bid to extract information and, at the end of it all, burn alive those they wished to condemn as Firewrights…’

Partha said, ‘So you wanted to find a way to defend yourselves and so… well, I must admit it is as brilliant as it is brutal. I suspect that the dust is not attracted to Wright-metal at all, is it? It wouldn’t affect you at all, but it would decimate your enemy.’

Govinda was taken aback. Then he sighed, accepting the bloody accolade. ‘I deserve that, I suppose. But if you can still find it in your heart to believe it, Partha, the idea of the Narayana-astra was not to decimate the enemy; it was to protect the defenceless. Not those who sought power on the back of Wright-weapons and science, nor those whose reason had given way to their dogmatic beliefs, their mindless rivalry with the Firstborn. It was to protect those who were victims, simple victims – the innocent villagers of Surasena, Panchala, Kashi… All the realms that now pride themselves on living in consonance with Divine Order.’

Clearing his throat, Govinda added, ‘I do not claim to be a good man; certainly not a man beyond making mistakes. But that does not, cannot, stop me from calling to question the atrocities of others. Firewright, Firstborn, I don’t care anymore. All I want is to end this war, to win it. And if you want the same, then this is what you must do. Tomorrow, on the battlefield, throw down your weapons and step away from them. Avoid all armour. If you feel your eyes begin to burn, lay yourself out on the ground and cover your face and head with your hands. What doesn’t fall to the ground will eventually be blown away…’

Dharma was still doubtful. ‘As simple as that?’

‘As simple as that. And that, Your Highness, is exactly what makes the Narayana-astra so dangerous.’

‘It’s not worth it,’ Dharma argued, as some the others nodded in agreement. ‘Dishonour is worse than death. To throw our weapons down, to lie in silent submission… We’d become laughing stocks, Govinda. Truly, I’d rather bear the torment of the astra, I’d rather bear death.’

Govinda smiled, tired. ‘We called it the Narayana-astra for a reason, Dharma. Now, I am weary beyond mention and need to get back to my tent to lie in submission for the night.’ With that he walked out of the Command Tent.

Dharma watched him leave, then turned to the others. ‘Well?’

Nakul shrugged. ‘Narayana… interesting play on words, if you think about it. Nara-ayana or resting man. Trust Govinda to come up with a cheeky name.’

‘I think,’ Panchali ventured, ‘that it’s more than a cheeky name. When have you known Govinda to speak in plain terms?’

Sadev said, ‘You’re right, Panchali. And in that lies the solution to your problem, Dharma. The riddle or challenge, if you will. I think I begin to understand what Govinda keeps saying about means and ends…’

‘Which is?’ Dharma said.

‘If the ends justify the means, as you claim they do, then where is the dishonour in feigning or mimicking surrender in order to win this particular encounter? Why bother with what you describe as dishonourable, when it can help achieve our ends? Do you see?’

‘But what you’re saying justifies my argument. The ends do justify the means, do they not?’

‘And what is it you must give up to use these means, Agraja?’

‘Honour? A sense of self? But surely these are trappings, mere illusions…oh!’ Dharma paused as he saw the riddle within the riddle, the greatness of the cosmos mirrored in the mundane. ‘The divinity within humanity…’ he muttered one of Govinda’s oft-repeated phrases under his breath, trying to make sense of it all.

‘And so,’ Sadev concluded, ‘the cowherd named his weapon after the Supreme Being himself. He couldn’t be more irreverent…or persuasive.’

‘All this philosophy is fine,’ Dhrstyadymn interrupted. ‘But I still need Dharma to decide. If Asvattama uses the Narayana-astra again, tomorrow, what is it that we are to do?’

Dharma thought long and hard. Panchali watched him, seeing doubt and certainty alternate in the shifting colours of his eyes. Whatever his flaws, Dharma’s intelligence and learning were not in doubt and, despite his adamant nature, his love for the truth forced him to always accept it when he could be brought to see that he was wrong. She reached out, laying her fingers on his arm. He turned to her, his expression one that she had not seen in a long while, not since the past days of friendship and companionable affection that had once been at the core of their relationship. Happiness fluttered within her, along with a glimmer of hope. She smiled and gently pressed his arm before removing her hand. Her touch seemed to help Dharma arrive at his decision.

‘Very well. If Asvattama uses the astra, we shall throw down our weapons. We shall,’ Dharma allowed himself a smile, ‘all bow to the spirit of the Creator within us.’

Syoddhan clutched at his sides, laughing hard, so hard that tears rolled down his cheeks. Dussasan was howling and slapping his thigh with glee. All around them, men jeered and celebrated at the sight of Dharma’s army prone on the ground in what appeared to be surrender.

‘You’ve done it, Asvattama!’ Syoddhan grabbed hold of the warrior and shook him, delight apparent in his voice. ‘Look at them! Look at them! You’ve done it!’

But Asvattama was far from happy.

‘What…?’ Syoddhan asked, confused.

‘He knows. Govinda knows how to defend against it. Puuya! The weapon is useless now.’

‘Then cast it again! Come now, Asvattama, with you on our side, victory is inevitable. Cast the weapon again. They’ve already been forced to rub their noses in the dirt. Dishonour has been meted out. Only death is left and that too we shall send their way. Go on!’

Asvattama’s eyes glowed golden-brown. He said nothing, but raised his right hand. Syoddhan stared, revolted. The skin had burnt off Asvattama’s hand, revealing not just the red, bloody flesh but also the white bone underneath. With his other hand, Asvattama held out the wooden box Dron had given him, offering it to Syoddhan. Syoddhan immediately recoiled. Asvattama smirked, cold and wrathful. He threw the box into the nearby river and stalked off.

Syoddhan turned back to the battlefield. Already, the mirth and celebration around him was beginning to dim as Dharma and his men picked themselves off the ground and got set to do battle again.

‘What happened? What happened?’ Dussasan asked, in a stupid daze.

‘Nothing. We fight.’

Vasusena understood too well what weighed on Syoddhan’s mind. ‘Indeed,’ he said, snarling. ‘We fight. And they will die. Come, Dussasan! Let’s cheer your brother up with some blood. We won’t let Dharma and his brothers forget that they licked mud right in front of us, at our feet. It’s a fine start to the day, and I’ll make sure it ends well!’

With mighty cries, the two men made their horses rear up in challenge and headed straight for Dharma.

29

‘
THE REASON WHY
,’
VASUSENA EXPLAINED TO THOSE GATHERED
in Syoddhan’s Command Tent, ‘the Bramha-astra is used in duels but not so much in wars despite its reputation as the deadliest astra ever, is that the toxin needs to penetrate the skin and enter the opponent’s bloodstream for it to induce fearful hallucinations. It can still be effectively used on the battlefield – often a few terrified, maddened men are all it takes to cause confusion, force the enemy to turn on their own. But weapons such as these…’ he pointed to the array of gleaming Wright-metal spread out on the table before him, ‘these are more like the Agneya-astra that Bhisma used. They are more suited to widespread damage and use in a war.’

‘They are also reprehensible,’ said Shalya, King of Madra. ‘To kill thousands at a single go… What chance does the enemy have to mount an effective defence? It is dishonourable, nothing less.’

‘You didn’t think so when the Grandsire fought with weapons such as these. Yet he is a hero, a scion of your race and I…’

‘Vasusena, please…’ Syoddhan tried to calm his friend down.

Shalya continued to frown his disapproval. ‘Those weapons,’ he hissed, ‘were sanctified. Dwaipayana himself blessed them, he believed that the Grandsire was the best custodian of all Wright-weapons, for in his hands they could be put to good use, in defence of righteousness.’

‘And when Asvattama invoked that demon from hell, whatever it was…? That dust-weapon? Who sanctified that?’

Asvattama drawled, taunting as always, ‘It needed no sanctification. I am Angirasa by birth, and a scholar by birth and training. Above all, I am Arya, and that too one who is loyal to the Firstborn. That is enough.’

‘How convenient for you…’

‘How would you know…Suta!’

Speechless with acrimony, Vasusena glared at Asvattama.

Syoddhan looked from one to the other, not sure which of his friends to placate.

Before he could speak, Shalya sighed and began to explain as though to a child, ‘If I were to put it bluntly, Vasusena, Dwaipayana gave Bhisma and a few others the authority to use those weapons so as to ensure that no scoundrel who aspired to rule or pretended to be Arya would hold us hostage to power. I think the Vyasa meant for men like you to be in the second category, not the first. As a matter of fact, that is the very system, the principle of Divine Order that we struggle to defend. It is that principle that makes me act wholeheartedly for Syoddhan instead of against him. Duty and Divine Order are greater than avuncular affections. Not once during this war have I hesitated to attack any of Dharma’s soldiers, including my own nephews. I want to know that counts for something; I want to know that there is a value to the larger principle that I fight for.’

Vasusena’s mind drifted to his unexpected meeting with Govinda on the eve of the final muster. He longed to tell Syoddhan, to explain to him what it was that Govinda truly wanted. But neither the present company nor the dour look on Syoddhan’s face suggested that his confession would be welcome. ‘All right, then,’ he declared. ‘Ask them. Ask your precious Firstborn what they want of us in this situation. I thought you fought for their way of life; on your head be it to stand in their way.’

‘And what do you care for the Firstborn and what they want?’

‘I care for my friend. I care for Syoddhan and what he wants. And if he believes that his honour lies in fighting for Divine Order, then so be it. He, in turn, knows what I wanted, but it is now too late for that.’.

‘Be that as it may,’ Asvattama intervened, ‘Dwaipayana is not here. Nor is Suka…’

‘Tell them to come,’ Vasusena suddenly flared up again. ‘I dare them to come here and look out on the battlefield, at the burning pyres and the piles of cadavers that await their turn. I dare them to come and see the result of their righteous battle.’

‘You sound confused, Vasusena,’ Dussasan said. ‘I hope your loyalties are clear.’

‘Vathu, Dussasan!’ Syoddhan finally spoke. ‘Kinsman or not, the next one to question Vasusena’s loyalty is a dead man.’

‘I stand with Syoddhan,’ Asvattama declared. ‘The matter before us is one of strategy, not of loyalty and trust. In my opinion, the matter is also a simple one. We have, through the efforts and discipline of Vasusena, weapons fashioned by the Bhargava Angirasas themselves. It would be a pity to let these gifts, these astras sanctified by the great Bhargava Rama – the same Firewright, if you remember King Shalya, who once trained the Grandsire Bhisma in the use of astras – go to nought.’

Shalya said, ‘What do you propose then?’

‘In the proper hands, these weapons…’

Vasusena interrupted. ‘Proper hands? Do you mean your hands, Asvattama? Is your lust for fame, for recognition as the greatest warrior, so strong that you…’

‘Why you…’ Asvattama bristled.

‘Quiet, both of you!’ Syoddhan commanded. He waited a while, considering both the men before him. He seemed to share silent words with Asvattama, after which he turned to Vasusena. ‘Will you lead our armies, my friend? Now that Acharya Dron has fallen, will you command the men?’

‘But…I…’ Vasusena was pleased but equally taken aback. He glanced at Asvattama, who nodded in agreement. Drawing in the reassurance with a deep breath Vasusena said, ‘Yes, Syoddhan. I will lead them. And I will bring you victory or die trying.’

Syoddhan clapped a proud hand on Vasusena’s back. Then he turned to the others. ‘As for the decision before us – on my head be it. On my head be it all, this bloodshed and death, these terrible deeds. Use your weapons as you best deem fit, Vasusena. For good or bad, history shall say it was I who began this war, not you, not anyone else. I see no point in trying to engage Dharma or his brothers in a conversation anymore. If there is any hope for redemption, it lies in our victory. Give it all you’ve got.’

Vasusena felt his heart brim with affection and respect for the man he considered his dearest friend. It overshadowed the strains of hesitation he felt, and the possibilities of fraternal affection he had briefly entertained disappeared. He said, resolute, ‘As you command, Your Highness. It shall be as you command. The strategy I propose is a simple one, not unlike what we have been doing all along. First, I will use astra-weapons to kill what measly divisions still remain in Dharma’s service. Once that is done, and there is no more room for formations, no place for them to hide their leaders, including Dharma Yudhisthir, I shall hunt down those who remain, one by one.’