THE CURSE OF BRAHMA (34 page)

He got up gingerly, still not able to believe that his feet were intact. Finally, he bowed to Ugra. ‘That was incredible, sir! I didn’t realize what was happening.’

Ugra smiled and gave Ghora a friendly slap on his back. ‘Now you know what you can do with this word, eh?’ he smiled broadly.

Before Ghora could reply, Ugra heard a grating voice from behind him, ‘That’s not the way to use this sword, my friend.’

Ugra turned around in fury, his face, a mask of rage. The friendly demeanour disappeared from his face, as if the light banter with Ghora had never happened. He was ready to duel and kill whoever had dared to challenge his skill with the sword, that too in front of his trainees.

He was surprised to see Bhargava standing there. But the man who had dared to challenge him was someone else. That person stood next to Bhargava, attired in black. Had it not been for Bhargava’s presence, and the fact that the person who had challenged him was accompanied by the man he most respected, Ugra would have attacked the challenger by now. As it was, he bowed respectfully to Bhargava. ‘My Lord, it is an honour to have you here,’ Ugra said, studiously ignoring Bhargava’s companion, the man who had dared to challenge him in front of his students.

Bhargava smiled benevolently, ‘I heard you were training a new batch of recruits. I thought it would be interesting to see how you transform a bunch of greenhorns into professional assassins.’

Ugra had an inscrutable look on his face. Much as he respected Bhargava, he was not happy that he had brought a stranger to his training camp. And he was still seething at the audacity of this stranger, who had challenged his skill in front of his men.
If he dares to question my abilities again, I will break his neck
, he thought savagely.

At exactly that moment, the stranger accompanying Bhargava spoke again, and this time his tone carried a hint of mockery. ‘As I was saying just now, that’s not how you use that particular sword, my friend.’

Ugra had had enough. His dark face took on a purple hue and his eyes looked as if they would pop out of their sockets any moment. ‘Why don’t you put your money where your mouth is, stranger,’ he snarled. ‘Let me show you how this sword is really used, then,’ Ugra almost spat out the words.

Bhargava tried to intervene. ‘Calm down, Ugra. My companion is just saying there could be a better way of using the sword. It’s his opinion. You don’t need to get upset about this, really.’

Ugra shook his head. He wasn’t in any mood to let this stranger get away so easily. Not after he had been fool enough to challenge him twice. ‘My Lord,’ he looked at Bhargava. ‘I demand that this man prove the truth of his words. He has challenged me in front of my men. Either he apologizes now or he should get ready to duel with me and prove that he knows how to use this sword better than I do.’

Before Bhargava could say anything else, the stranger cut in, ‘Ugra is right. Since I have questioned his skills, I should also prove the same.’

‘B-but he is the chief of the Zataka Upanshughataks…’ Bhargava started to say.

Ugra smiled.
Now this man is going to shit in his clothes. He obviously didn’t know who I was before he shot off his mouth
, he thought malevolently.

The stranger looked in Ugra’s direction. ‘Oh, I didn’t know who he is,’ he said softly.

Ugra’s smile grew wider.
Now he is going to apologize; the snooty bastard
, he mused to himself.

‘But now that I know who he is, it is even more important to teach him how to use that sword,’ the stranger completed his sentence.

Ugra gaped at him.
This man is a fool
, he thought viciously.
After he knows who I am, he is still being obnoxious. He won’t go home alive today
, he resolved in rage.

‘Prepare yourself!’ Ugra shouted at the stranger as he threw him one of the swords with the long blade, before grabbing one for himself. The stranger caught the sword thrown at him in one neat motion.

Ugra walked towards the shrouded figure taking his time, clearly enjoying the thought of what he was going to do to him. Then suddenly his face grew grim. He looked beyond his adversary at the figure of a bhuta creeping up silently behind the stranger. The bhuta had a curved knife in his hand and it was evident that he was going to try and slice the stranger’s neck from behind. As the bhuta crept closer to the stranger, Ugra recognized him as one of his Zataka Upanshughataks. He understood what the bhuta was trying to do. As part of their tribe’s rule, if any one of them was in danger from an enemy, the tribe would attack the enemy without asking any questions. Ugra realized that the bhuta must have seen the stranger carrying a weapon against him and thinking he was in danger was planning to take out the enemy from behind.

Ugra opened his mouth to stop the bhuta at the same time that it jumped towards the stranger, the curved knife held tightly in its hand. Ugra watched horrified. He didn’t want the stranger to die in this manner. He wanted to kill him after defeating him in fair battle.

What happened in the next instant horrified Ugra even more. The stranger turned around with a speed that was impossible to behold. He pointed the palm of his left hand in the direction of the bhuta. There was a sound like the clap of thunder and a blue light shot out of his hands and hit the bhuta in the centre of his chest. The bhuta’s body seemed suspended in mid air for a while, and then fell, dead even before it hit the ground.

There was complete silence for the next few minutes. The sun went down without anyone noticing. The five dozen new recruits who were being trained by Ugra huddled closer to each other. Bhargava looked at the stranger with an inscrutable expression, as if unsure of the latter’s next move. Ugra was still dazed. Bhutas were the most dangerous of the Pataal Lok monsters, and considered virtually indestructible. Yet the stranger had destroyed him as if he had been a mere child and not one of the deadliest assassins in the netherworld.

Ugra looked closely at the stranger. He wondered why the man kept his head and face covered with a cloak. He wanted to look into the eyes of the person who had just killed one of his tribesmen.

‘Who are you?’ he asked, his voice a mixture of rage and curiosity.

The stranger looked in his direction, his face still veiled. ‘They call me the Dark Lord!’ he said softly, his voice a hoarse rasp.

Ugra stared uncomprehendingly at the cloaked figure facing him.
This can’t be
, he thought to himself.
The Dark Lord actually exists!
All these years, the chief of the Zataka Upanshughataks had disdainfully rejected the legend of the Dark Lord as the fancy of easily awed men. He hadn’t thought that a man with the powers ascribed to him could exist in reality. Yet here was this cloaked figure who had demonstrated a small part of his powers in the ease with which he had destroyed the bhuta.

Ugra felt his heart beat faster with the knowledge that he had challenged this man to fight him.
If the bhuta hadn’t appeared when he did, I would be the one lying dead now
, he thought with a slight shudder. Ugra wasn’t afraid of any man. But the person standing in his presence was not a man. He was death incarnate. Disgusted at the fear threatening to paralyze him into inaction, Ugra vigorously shook his mane of matted hair; as if by that action he could also shake off the feeling of dread that was rapidly overpowering him.

‘So are we going to duel today or are we not?’ the Dark Lord asked in a genial tone.

Bhargava finally intervened. ‘But Amartya, this is the chief of the Zataka Upanshughataks. If you kill him, who is going to train the assassins to enter Mrityulok?’ Bhargava hesitated. What he had to say next was difficult for him. But he said it nonetheless, ‘And…and Ugra is my friend. I can’t have you kill him!’

Ugra’s heart warmed to Bhargava. He had always considered the old man his friend, ever since he had saved his life. But he had never thought that Bhargava may look upon him as anything more than a tool to train the assassins. Hearing Bhargava calling him his friend filled the big asura with a joy he had not known till now. He also realized now why Bhargava had told the Dark Lord that he was the chief of the Zataka Upanshughataks earlier. He had done it so that the cloaked figure would refrain from hurting him. Ugra mentally kicked himself.
And I thought Bhargava was trying to scare this man by telling him who I was. He was actually pleading with him not to kill me
, he reflected with embarrassment.

The cloaked figure was laughing; it was a hoarse laugh, but a laugh undoubtedly. ‘Who said I am going to kill Ugra? I just want to teach him how to use that damn sword.’

Ugra felt his anger rising again. It helped subdue the fear he felt in the Dark Lord’s presence. ‘It is easy to fight anyone when you use magic. Try fighting me without your tricks and I will show you how to use that sword.’

The cloaked figure chuckled. ‘This is not magic, son. It is pure Brahman energy; the very force that moves the universe.’ He paused, his veiled face lost in thought. ‘But you have a point. I will not use this with you. It wouldn’t be fair. I will fight you as a normal person, without the use of anything but my skill.’

Ugra relaxed. Irrespective of how powerful the Dark Lord was, Ugra had unshakeable faith in his own skills as a swordsman. He knew there was no one who could use a long blade like him. He got ready to duel. But the cloaked figure stopped him.

‘While I will fight you without using the force of Brahman energy, would you want me to use some magic to get your bhuta back to life?’ He chuckled again, while emphasizing the word ‘magic’, thinking to himself how anyone could confuse Brahman energy—the oldest form of power—with something as crude as magic.

Bhargava was astonished at Amartya’s light-hearted mood. He hadn’t heard him chuckle or joke in the past two hundred years, ever since he had known him.
Maybe getting him out of that bloody room of his is good for his mind
, he thought to himself.

Ugra and the other asuras watched dumbfounded as the Dark Lord pointed his index finger at the lifeless bhuta. A cloud of blue light enveloped the dead monster’s body and the incredible power of the Brahman energy could be felt by all present, even at that distance. The asuras looked on amazed, as the bhuta started showing the first indications of regaining life. It started with the faint almost imperceptible movements of his extremities, and then transformed into more visible signs of life creeping back into his form. The bhuta stirred and finally opened his eyes with a jolt. He looked around and saw the dazed eyes of other asuras staring at him. Gradually, he realized that he was sitting on the ground, and he jumped up with a scream. Bhutas dreaded any contact with the earth as overexposure to it could reduce their potency.

‘Welcome back, Nisata. You scared the living daylights out of me,’ Ugra said exultantly, hugging the bhuta. ‘I thought you were gone forever.’

Nisata gently extricated himself from his chief. He floated in the direction of the Dark Lord. Ugra tensed, concerned that the bhuta might again try and attack the cloaked man, and this time the Dark Lord may not be so merciful. But his anxiety was misplaced. To his utter amazement, Nisata prostrated himself in front of the Dark Lord. ‘Forgive me, My Lord, I thought you were going to hurt my chief. I didn’t know who you were.’ His nasal voice was full of respect for the man who had brought him back to life.

The Dark Lord motioned to Nisata to rise. He was aware from his initial days in Pataal Lok how painful it was for a bhuta to be in contact with the ground and he wanted to spare it any superfluous pain. ‘You were doing your duty, Nisata. I forgive you. Go now. Your chief and I have work to do!’

Nisata looked from the Dark Lord to Ugra, unsure what to do. Ugra nodded at him and the bhuta floated away into the darkness.

Ugra looked uncomfortably at the cloaked figure. He found it difficult to comprehend this man people called the Dark Lord. He had killed the kalakanja and sent him to the deepest recesses of hell, and yet just now, he had brought back to life the bhuta who had tried to kill him. The contradiction bothered him. But what perplexed him even more was that he was beginning to respect the man, perhaps even like him. Two things that were not easy for a man like Ugra to do.

‘Uh…I-I wanted to thank you for bringing the bhuta…uh, Nisata…back to life,’ Ugra mumbled in a low tone.

‘It’s quite okay. You don’t need to thank me for that. I took his praana and I gave it back to him. It is inconsequential. You can, however, thank me later for teaching you how to use that sword,’ the Dark Lord’s voice was mildly mocking again, but this time, Ugra didn’t find it within himself to react.

‘It would be an honour to learn from you, My Lord!’ he said softly.