The Oath of The Vayuputras (70 page)
Kartik fell silent.
Gopal sighed as he looked at Kali, Ganesh and Kartik. There was too much anger. He couldn’t figure out a way to save the Somras scientists from Ganesh and Kali’s rage. But at least he had managed to take the conversation away from the dangerous talk of using the
Pashupatiastra
. And maybe there was still hope that, over the next few hours, he would convince the Neelkanth’s family of the necessity of saving the Somras scientists.
Shiva had been sitting quietly in the icy tomb, holding Sati’s body. His eyes were sunken and expressionless, with no light of hope in them, with no reason to even exist. The blackish-red blotch on his brow was visibly throbbing; he was shivering due to the cold. A single droplet of fluid had escaped from Sati’s good eye, now closed, and ran down her face like a tear. There was an unearthly silence in the room, except for the soft hissing of the cold air being pumped in at regular intervals. A sudden sharp noise startled Shiva, perhaps from the bulls harnessed to the Meluhan cooling system.
He looked around with cold, emotionless eyes. There was nobody in the chamber. He looked down at his dead wife. He pulled her body close and kissed her gently on her forehead. Then he carefully placed her back on the ice.
Caressing her face tenderly, Shiva whispered, ‘Stay here, Sati. I’ll be back soon.’
Shiva jumped off the ice tower and walked up to the door of the inner chamber. As soon as he opened it, Ayurvati stood up. Accompanied by her medical team, she had been tending to Nandi and the other soldiers for the last twenty-four hours.
‘My Lord,’ said Ayurvati, her eyes red and swollen from accumulated misery and lack of sleep.
Shiva ignored her and continued walking. Ayurvati looked at Shiva with foreboding and terror. She had never seen the Neelkanth’s eyes look so hard and remote. He looked like he had gone beyond rage; beyond ruthlessness; beyond insanity.
Shiva opened the main door. He heard voices to his right. He turned to see his commanders in deep discussion. Tara was the first to notice him.
‘Lord Neelkanth,’ said Tara, immediately rising to her feet.
Shiva stared at her blankly for a few seconds, then took a deep breath and spoke evenly. ‘Tara, the
Pashupatiastra
trunk is in my ship. Bring it here.’
A panic-stricken Gopal rushed towards Shiva. He knew that Shiva hadn’t eaten in twenty-four hours. He hadn’t slept. He had been sitting on top of an inhumanly cold tower. Grief had practically unhinged him. He knew the Neelkanth wasn’t himself. ‘My friend... Listen to me. Don’t make a decision like this in haste.’
Shiva looked at Gopal, his face frozen.
‘I know you are angry, Neelkanth. But don’t do this. I know your good heart. You will repent it.’
Shiva turned around to walk back into the conference building. Gopal reached out and held Shiva’s arm, trying to pull him back.
‘Shiva,’ pleaded Gopal, ‘you’ve given your word to the Vayuputras. You’ve given your word to your uncle, Lord Mithra.’
Shiva gripped Gopal’s hand tightly and removed it from his arm.
‘Shiva, the power of this weapon is terrible and unpredictable,’ pleaded Gopal, grasping at any argument to stop this tragedy. ‘Even if the
Pashupatiastra’s
destruction is restricted to the inner circle, any attempt to destroy all three platforms of Devagiri will widen this circle. It will not just destroy Devagiri, it will also destroy all of us. Do you really want to kill your entire army, your family and your friends?’
‘Tell them to leave.’
Shiva’s voice was soft, barely audible. His eyes remained remote and unfocused, staring into space. Gopal paused for a moment, watching Shiva with a glimmer of hope. ‘Should I tell our people to leave? With the
Pashupatiastra
?’
Shiva did not move. There was no reaction on his face. ‘No. Tell the people of this city to leave. All except those who have protected or made the Somras, and those directly responsible for Sati’s death. For when I am done, there will be no more Daksha. There will be no more Somras. There will be no more Evil. It will be as if this place, this Evil, never existed. Nothing will live here, nothing will grow here, and no two stones will be left standing upon each other to show that there ever was a Devagiri. It all ends now.’
Gopal was grateful that at least the innocent people of Devagiri would be saved. But what about Lord Rudra’s law banning the use of
daivi astras
?
‘Shiva, the
Pashupatiastra
...’ whispered Gopal with hope.
Shiva stared at Gopal unemotionally and spoke in a voice that was eerily composed. ‘I will burn down this entire world.’
Gopal stared at Shiva with foreboding. The Neelkanth turned around and walked back into the building, to his Sati.
Tara rose.
‘Where are you going?’ whispered Brahaspati.
‘To get the
Pashupatiastra
,’ answered Tara softly.
‘You cannot! It will destroy us all!’
‘No, it won’t. These weapons can be triangulated in such a way that the devastation will remain confined within the city. We will not be affected if we remain more than five kilometres away.’
Tara began to walk away.
Brahaspati pulled her back and whispered urgently, ‘What are you doing? You know this is wrong. I feel for Shiva, but the
Pashupatiastra
...’
Tara stared at Brahaspati without a hint of doubt in her eyes. ‘Lord Ram’s sacred laws have been shamelessly broken. The Neelkanth deserves his vengeance.’
‘Of course, he does,’ said Brahaspati, meeting her gaze without flinching. ‘But not with the
Pashupatiastra
.’
‘Don’t you feel his pain? What kind of friend are you?’
‘Tara, I had once considered doing something wrong. I had wanted to assassinate a man who was to duel Sati. Shiva stopped me. He stopped me from taking a sin upon my soul. If I have to be a true friend to him, I have to stop him from tarnishing his soul. I can’t let him use the
Pashupatiastra
.’
‘His soul is already dead, Brahaspati. It’s lying on top of that ice tower,’ said Tara.
‘I know, but...’
Tara pulled her hand away from Brahaspati. ‘You expect him to fight in accordance with the laws when his enemies have not. They have taken everything from him, his life, his soul, his entire reason for existence. He deserves his vengeance.’
Shiva’s army had been divided into three groups, led by Bhagirath, Chandraketu and Maatali. Each group was stationed outside the gates of the three platforms of Devagiri. Maatali’s troops blocked the Svarna platform, Chandraketu’s forces guarded the exit from the Rajat platform and Bhagirath’s troops were at the steps of the Tamra platform. Shiva’s instructions had been followed. Ignoring Kali’s protests, Shiva’s forces informed those within the city that they would be allowed to leave, all except those Kshatriyas who had fought to protect the Somras and those Brahmins who had worked to create the Somras. Daksha and his personal bodyguards, including Vidyunmali, had also been specifically excluded from the amnesty. An evacuation had begun. What amazed the Chandravanshis among Shiva’s troops was the number of citizens who chose to stay on and die with Devagiri.
There were many who came in a disciplined line to the city gates, said a dignified goodbye to their families and walked silently back to their homes to await death. There was no acrimony; no fighting at the gates or attempts to save the city. Not even melodramatic farewells.
Gopal and Kartik had stationed themselves at the Tamra platform, along with Bhagirath’s troops. The soldiers on this side were primarily Brangas. A tired Bhagirath, having just supervised the construction of the perimeter barricades, rejoined them.
The Ayodhyan prince nodded towards the odd movements of citizens at the gate, half of them leaving and the other half returning to the city. ‘What’s going on here?’
Kartik dropped his eyes and said nothing, while Gopal’s eyes welled up.
‘It is becoming a movement amongst the Meluhans,’ said the chief of the Vasudevs. ‘An act of honour. A cause that demands your life. Stay and die with your city. Have your soul purified by allowing yourself to be killed by the Neelkanth...’ He stopped himself, obviously overcome with emotion.
Bhagirath raised his eyebrows. ‘What do you mean?’
Gopal gestured towards the crowd, where yet another woman had said goodbye to a couple, before calmly turning back towards the city. ‘See for yourself,’ he said.
Bhagirath paused for a moment, brows knitted, to study Gopal’s face before turning back to the woman.
‘Excuse me, madam,’ Bhagirath called out to her, and she stopped, turning to face him. ‘Why are you returning to the city? Why are you not evacuating with the others?’
The folds of her
angvastram
wafted gently in the breeze around her. She had a kind face with dark, quiet eyes and a soft voice. She spoke calmly, as if she was discussing the weather. ‘I am a Meluhan. To be Meluhan is not about the country you live in – it is about how you live, what you believe in. What is the purpose of a long life, if not to strive for something higher? Lord Ram’s most sacred law has been broken. We have fallen. All that we are has already been destroyed. What can we now hope to strive for in this life, if this is our karma?’
Bhagirath couldn’t believe his ears.
The Meluhan woman continued. ‘I believe in the Neelkanth. I have waited for him for so many years, worshipped him. And this is what Meluha has done to him. To our Princess – the most exemplary Meluhan of us all, who lived every breath of her life strictly according to Lord Ram’s code. This is what Meluha has done to our Laws that make us who we are.’ She was quiet for a moment, her eyes searching his. ‘I am guilty. I took the Somras. I followed the Emperor and, through my complacency and silence, was party to everything that conspired to bring this about. If this is Meluha’s evil, then it is my evil too. My karma. I will pay my debt to the Neelkanth this day, and pray that it may allow me to be reborn with a little less sin upon my soul.’
Bhagirath was stunned. What logic was this? She inclined her head in a half nod towards him, and again began walking with perfect composure back into the city.
Gopal’s voice came from behind him. ‘I know. They all say the same thing. I am Meluhan. The Law has been broken. It is my karma.’
They stood in silence together and watched the woman go.
‘Prince Bhagirath.’ The two of them started slightly, pulled out of their silent contemplation.
‘Yes, Kartik?’ said Bhagirath, turning to face him.
‘I want you to call General Parvateshwar.’
‘I have already sent in a messenger to get Anandmayi,’ said Bhagirath. ‘But neither she nor her husband has come as yet. She will not leave without Parvateshwar. I’m still trying to convince the both of them.’
‘Tell them,’ said Gopal, ‘Lord Kartik and I have invited them here. We need to talk about something that is important for India’s future.’
Bhagirath frowned. He knew that what Gopal and Kartik were suggesting was the only way to get his sister and her husband out of Devagiri, tenuous though it may be.
‘I will go into the city myself,’ said Bhagirath.
‘And, Prince Bhagirath...’ Gopal hesitated.
‘I understand, Pandit
ji
. I will not breathe a word of this to anyone.’
They stood in silence together, looking at a city that would no longer exist tomorrow.
‘Excuse me,’ said a voice. They turned around to see a small group of Meluhans.
‘Yes?’ asked Kartik.
‘We left the city this morning but have changed our minds now. We would like to stay. May we go back in?’
Gopal stared at them in disbelief, and Bhagirath dropped his eyes, praying that he would be able to convince his sister to leave.