THE CURSE OF BRAHMA (35 page)

Ugra looked with satisfaction upon his latest batch of trained assassins. This was possibly the best lot amongst all the men he had trained so far for Bhargava. A few weeks had elapsed since the Dark Lord and Bhargava had visited the training arena, and their coming had provided a huge impetus to the enthusiasm of the new recruits. Seeing the Dark Lord instruct the fearsome chief of the Zataka Upanshughataks in the finer aspects of sword play, had made them even more enthusiastic about excelling in their training.

Ugra smiled with unbridled affection at Ghora, the boy who had grown to become a leader of men in a short time. It had been difficult at first. Ghora had too much kindness in his nature to become an assassin. But he was a natural hunter. Despite his youth and his disarming charm, he was now amongst the foremost warriors that Ugra had ever known. His prowess in the art of fighting exceeded even the best of the Zataka Upanshughataks. More importantly, however, he had shown an incredible talent for leading men. It was this particular trait, more than his fighting prowess, that convinced Ugra to announce Ghora as the commander of the assassin module being sent to Hastinapur. New recruits were being dispatched to the city of Hastinapur and the young boy would now lead these men when the time came.

Ghora’s unit got ready to leave. They would enter Mrityulok through Magadha and surreptitiously make their way to Hastinapur. Ghora spoke to his men, and made his way towards the man he had begun to view as his father.

‘Pranaam, Gurudev,’ he kneeled down in front of Ugra, who blessed him and in a rare display of public affection, hugged the young man. He looked closely at Ghora and sensed that something was bothering the boy.

‘You look troubled, son. What is the matter?’ he asked quietly.

Ghora shuffled his feet uncomfortably. He had passed all the tests with remarkable ease, and Ugra had been more than vocal about his potential and bright future. But there were questions that plagued him, made him get up in the middle of the night, drenched in sweat.

‘What is the matter with you?’ Ugra repeated his question, more forceful now.

‘Gurudev, why are we doing this?’ he asked in a strained voice. ‘Why do we want to kill innocent people in Mrityulok? What have they done to us?’

Ugra’s face tightened. Since he had begun to think of Ghora as his adopted son, he too had begun to question his purpose in life. He had frequently considered leaving with Ghora to move to a new place, away from Pataal Lok, and start a fresh life somewhere else. But the debt he owed to Bhargava precluded any other preferences he may have otherwise had about leading a different life.

He looked now at Ghora and spoke firmly. This time, the voice was that of the chief of the Zataka Upanshughataks, and not that of the adoring mentor. ‘It is not for us to question why,’ he said his voice heavy with regret. ‘Bhargava demands my loyalty and I demand yours. I have already offered Bhargava mine. Will you offer me yours?’

Ghora did not fail to sense Ugra’s pain as he forced himself to say the words to his favourite pupil. He hung his head, ashamed at having questioned his teacher. The greater part of his soul still recoiled from what he knew he had to do when he reached Hastinapur. But the other part of him that was mortgaged in loyalty to Ugra, made him nod his acquiescence to his teacher. ‘I will do what you have commanded me to do, or else I will not return with a head on my shoulders.’

He quickly walked back to his men, ready to leave the only land he had ever known as home.

arasandha shifted his body impatiently. He had been standing, gazing through a carefully concealed peephole that gave him an unrestricted view of Kansa’s bed chambers from his own room. The peephole had been built in such a way that it was virtually impossible for anyone in the guest room to notice. The acoustics of the adjacent room were architected in a manner that even the slightest whisper from the guest room could be heard in Jarasandha’s chamber, but sounds from his room would be completely inaudible in the guest section. This had been done to enable Jarasandha to spy on the activities and conversations of specific guests that came to Magadha. In this case, it was being used to keep a tab on Kansa’s movements, and this was not something that Jarasandha relished. It bothered him that he was making Kansa an unwitting player in his deal with the Dark Lord. But the stakes were too high. The Dark Lord had promised to make him, Jarasandha, the undisputed lord of all of Mrityulok if he helped him. Once he ascended that ladder over all the other powerful kings of Mrityulok, he intended to make Kansa his heir. This thought made him feel less guilty about what he was doing to his closest friend and brother-in-law.

The king of Magadha sighed. Power was such a strange experience. It didn’t matter how much of it you had, you always wanted more. He was already one of the most powerful kings in Mrityulok. Most of the rulers in Bharat and the other lands of Mrityulok bowed to him. But to be the Lord of all of Mrityulok! That was a powerful dream indeed; a dream that only the Dark Lord could help him achieve. And it would be his, if he supported the Dark Lord in his plans.

Jarasandha noticed Kansa move in his sleep in the other room. He was suddenly alert. It had begun! The Dark Lord had told him that he would be using the art of svapnasrsti on Kansa. Svapnasrsti was the ability to enter a person’s mind and create a dream that would seem so vivid that the person dreaming it would be haunted by the reality of it, even after waking up. Frequent doses of svapnasrsti administered to a person could make them lose sight of what was real and what was imagined. This had already happened with Banasura and Chanur. They were now completely in the power of the Dark Lord, not knowing most of the time whether they were taking their own decisions or being prompted by some powerful external force.

There was a sudden gasp from Kansa, and Jarasandha watched him writhe in agony on his bed. Kansa’s face reflected pain of such proportions that even the battle-hardened Jarasandha shuddered. And in that instant, he saw Kansa leap up from his bed, his hand clutching his heart. ‘He killed me Devki…your son killed me,’ he screamed in anguish, sobbing hysterically. His face reflected his betrayal and his torment.

Ugrasena completed writing the letter to Kansa. His quill hovered over the page, unsure how to end the note. He wanted to write ‘Your loving father’ at the end of the message, but he didn’t know how Kansa would react to it in his current frame of mind. Instead, he just wrote ‘Your father’ and hastily folded the letter in a scroll that would be carried by a messenger to his son in Magadha.

‘Hand this to my son when you reach Jarasandha’s court,’ Ugrasena instructed the messenger. Rabhu nodded in understanding and turned to leave.

‘And Rabhu…’ Ugrasena called after the messenger. ‘Hand it over only to the prince. No one else must know the contents.’

Rabhu nodded gravely and gave Ugrasena a final bow. The king’s words and tone left him in no doubt about the importance of keeping the message confidential. He would make sure it reached the right hands.

I have assembled a task force of fifty, My Lord!’ Airawat said in a matter-of-fact tone. ‘Another fifty will be ready in the next few days. These are the toughest men I could find in Madhuvan. Some of them are from the army, but majority are mercenaries who will fight anyone if the price is right.’ He saw Ugrasena’s cogitative expression and decided to explain.

‘The mercenaries may not have the same code of ethics as our army, My Lord. But they are fearless and their fighting tactics are unconventional. I believe we will require people like those to fight the asura assassins.’ Airawat waited for some reaction from his king, which was not long in coming.

‘But how predictable will the mercenaries be? And will they be amenable to being instructed?’ Ugrasena seemed to hesitate before continuing. ‘We can’t afford any chances when fighting with the asura insurgents, Airawat.’

Airawat had anticipated this argument. ‘My Lord, the mercenaries practice the same discipline as our army personnel; perhaps even higher. That won’t be an issue. And don’t forget, while the mercenary will do anything for a price, they too are born of the same land as we. The only thing they hold dearer than money is the love for their country. They will give their life for Madhuvan…for the safety and honour of all the lands of Mrityulok’ There was pride and conviction in Airawat’s voice.

Ugrasena nodded his assent. ‘That’s good then. What are the next steps?’

‘Special training for the task force has already commenced, My Lord. We should be ready in a month’s time.’ He paused, unsure of his next question.

Ugrasena, however, noticed his hesitation. Airawat had been too long with him for the king to miss these strategic pauses. ‘You wanted to ask me something, Airawat?’ he prodded gently.

‘Uh yes, My Lord…I was wondering…would Prince Kansa be joining us? Vasudev is held in awe by everyone, especially after he defeated Somdatta so decisively. But the men would be happier to be led by their own prince.’

Ugrasena looked hard at him. ‘And you, Airawat? Would you also be happier to be led by Kansa?’

Airawat looked away. He didn’t know what answer the king expected. Hence, he spoke from his heart. ‘My Lord, I am a soldier. I will follow any general as long as he is worthy of respect and has the welfare of the country close to his heart. Both Vasudev and Kansa meet these criteria. But the rest of the team…I think they would be more motivated if they were led by their own Prince. And the fact is that there is no general in this land who inspires the best in these men as Prince Kansa does.’

‘Hmm!’ Ugrasena mumbled softly. ‘Then for your sake and the sake of your men’s motivation, let us hope that Kansa returns to Madhuvan soon. I have written to him and if I know my son, he will be here soon.’ Ugrasena smiled at his cavalry commander.

Airawat’s face reflected his happiness at the news. Like most people, he hadn’t failed to notice the growing strain between the king and Prince Kansa in the recent past. But he was relieved that Ugrasena had called for his son. Airawat, too, felt confident that Kansa would return to lead the Madhuvan task force. And with the valiant Kansa leading them, they would break the back of the asura assassins.