chapter 2

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Thirty-three years earlier, Port of Karachapa, Western Sea, India

'Lord Parshu Ram, be merciful,' whispered Dashrath, the forty-year-old king of Kosala,

the overlord kingdom of the Sapt Sindhu.

The emperor of the Sapt Sindhu had marched right across his sprawling empire from

Ayodhya, its capital, to finally arrive at the western coast. Some rebellious traders

sorely needed a lesson in royal justice. The combative Dashrath had built on the

powerful empire he had inherited from his father Aja. Rulers from various parts of India

had either been deposed or made to pay tribute and accept his suzerainty, thus making

Dashrath the Chakravarti Samrat, or the Universal Emperor.

'Yes, My Lord,' said Mrigasya, the general of Dashrath's army. 'This is not the only

village that has been laid to waste. The enemy has destroyed all the villages in a fifty-

kilometre radius from where we stand. The wells have been poisoned with the carcasses

of dead animals. Crops have been burned down ruthlessly. The entire countryside has

been ravaged.'

'Scorched earth policy…' said Ashwapati, the king of Kekaya, a loyal ally of

Dashrath, and the father of the emperor's second and favourite wife, Kaikeyi.

'Yes,' said another king. 'We cannot feed our army of five hundred thousand soldiers

here. Our supply lines are already stretched.'

'How the hell did that barbarian trader Kubaer acquire the intellect for military

strategy?' asked Dashrath.

Dashrath could scarcely conceal his Kshatriyan disdain for the trading class, the

Vaishyas. For the Sapt Sindhu royalty, wealth was the conqueror's right when acquired

as the spoils of war, but inappropriate when earned through mere profiteering. The

Vaishyas' 'lack of class' invited scorn. They were subjected to heavy regulation and a

draconian system of licences and controls. The children of the Sapt Sindhu aristocracy

were encouraged to become warriors or intellectuals, not traders. Resultantly, the

trading class in these kingdoms was depleted over the years. With not enough money

pouring in from wars, the royal coffers quickly emptied.

Ever sensing an opportunity to profit, Kubaer, the trader king of the island of Lanka,

offered his services and expertise to carry out trading activities for all the Sapt Sindhu

kingdoms. The then king of Ayodhya, Aja, granted the monopoly to Kubaer in return for a

huge annual compensation, which was then distributed to each subordinate kingdom

within the Sapt Sindhu Empire. Ayodhya's power soared for it became the source of

funds for other kingdoms within the empire. And yet, they could continue to hold on to

their old contempt towards trade. Recently, however, Kubaer had unilaterally reduced

the commissions that Dashrath rightfully believed were Ayodhya's due. This

impertinence of a mere trader certainly deserved punishment. Dashrath directed hisvassal kings to merge their troops with his own, and led them to Karachapa to remind

Kubaer of his place in the power hierarchy.

'Apparently, My Lord,'said Mrigasya, 'it is not Kubaer who is calling the shots.'

'Then who is?' asked Dashrath.

'We do not know much about him. I have heard that he is no more than thirty years of

age. He joined Kubaer some years ago as the head of his trading security force. Over

time, he recruited more people and transformed the unit into a proper army. I believe he

is the one who convinced Kubaer to rebel against us.'

'I'm not surprised,' said Ashwapati. 'I can't imagine that obese and indolent Kubaer

having the nerve to challenge the power of the Sapt Sindhu!'

'Who is this man?' asked Dashrath. 'Where is he from?'

'We really don't know much about him, My Lord,'said Mrigasya.

'Do you at least know his name?'

'Yes, we do. His name is Raavan.'

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Nilanjana, the royal physician, rushed down the hallway of the palace of Ayodhya. She

had received an urgent summons late in the evening from the personal staff of Queen

Kaushalya, the first wife of King Dashrath.

The gentle and restrained Kaushalya, the daughter of the king of South Kosala, had

been married to Dashrath for more than fifteen years now. Her inability to provide the

emperor with an heir had been a source of constant dismay to her. Frustrated by the

absence of a successor, Dashrath had finally married Kaikeyi, the tall, fair and

statuesque princess of the powerful western Indian kingdom of Kekaya, which was ruled

by his close ally Ashwapati. That too was of no avail. He finally married Sumitra, the

steely but unobtrusive princess of the holy city of Kashi, the city that housed the spirit of

Lord Rudra and was famous for non-violence. Even so, the great Emperor Dashrath

remained without an heir.

No wonder then that when Kaushalya finally became pregnant, it was an occasion

marked by both joy and trepidation. The queen was understandably desperate to ensure

that the child was delivered safely. Her entire staff, most of whom were loyal retainers

from her father's household, understood the political implications of the birth of an heir.

Abundant caution was the norm. This was not the first time that Nilanjana had been

summoned, many a times over frivolous reasons and false alarms. However, since the

doctor too was from Queen Kaushalya's parental home, her loyalty forbade any overt

signs of irritability.

This time, though, it appeared to be the real thing. The queen had gone into labour.

Even as she ran, Nilanjana's lips fervently appealed to Lord Parshu Ram for a smooth

delivery, and yes, a male child.

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'I order you to restore our commission to the very fair nine-tenths of your profits and, in

return, I assure you I will let you live,' growled Dashrath.

In keeping with the rules of engagement, Dashrath had sent a messenger in advance toKubaer for a negotiated settlement as a last resort. The adversaries had decided to meet

in person on neutral ground. The chosen site was a beach midway between Dashrath's

military camp and the Karachapa fort. Dashrath was accompanied by Ashwapati,

Mrigasya, and a bodyguard platoon of twenty soldiers. Kubaer had arrived along with

his army's general, Raavan, and twenty bodyguards.

The Sapt Sindhu warriors could scarcely conceal their contempt as the obese Kubaer

had waddled laboriously into the tent. A round, cherubic face with thinning hair was

balanced on the humongous body of the seventy-year-old fabulously wealthy trader from

Lanka. His smooth complexion and fair skin belied his age. He wore a bright green dhoti

and pink angvastram and was bedecked with extravagant jewellery. A life of excess

which, when added to his girth and effeminate manner, summed up in the mind of

Dashrath what Kubaer was: the classic effete Vaishya.

Dashrath restrained his thoughts as they struggled to escape through words. Does this

ridiculous peacock actually think he can take me on?!

'Your Highness…' said Kubaer nervously, 'I think it might be a little difficult to keep

the commissions fixed at that level. Our costs have gone up and the trading margins are

not what they—'

'Don't try your disgusting negotiating tactics with me!' barked Dashrath as he banged

his hand on the table for effect. 'I am not a trader! I am an emperor! Civilised people

understand the difference.'

It had not escaped Dashrath's notice that Kubaer seemed ill at ease. Perhaps the trader

had not intended for events to reach this stage. The massive troop movement to

Karachapa had evidently unnerved him. Dashrath presumed that a few harsh words

would effectively dissuade Kubaer from persisting with his foolhardy quest. After

which, to be fair, he had decided that he would let Kubaer keep an extra two percent.

Dashrath understood that, sometimes, a little magnanimity quelled discontent.

Dashrath leaned forward as he lowered his voice to a menacing whisper. 'I can be

merciful. I can forgive mistakes. But you really need to stop this nonsense and do as I

say.'

With a nervous gulp, Kubaer glanced at the impassive Raavan who sat to his right.

Even sitting, Raavan's great height and rippling musculature was intimidating. His

battle-worn, swarthy skin was pock-marked, probably by a childhood disease. A thick

beard valiantly attempted to cover his ugly marks while a handlebar moustache set off

his menacing features. His attire was unremarkable though, consisting of a white dhoti

and a cream angvastram. His headgear was singular, with two threatening six-inch-long

horns reaching out from the top on either side.

Kubaer helplessly turned back to Dashrath as his general remained deathly still. 'But

Your Highness, we are facing many problems and our invested capital is—'

'You are trying my patience now, Kubaer!' growled Dashrath as he ignored Raavan

and focused his attention on the chief trader. 'You are irritating the emperor of the Sapt

Sindhu!'

'But My Lord…''Look, if you do not continue to pay our rightful commissions, believe me you will all

be dead by this time tomorrow. I will first defeat your miserable army, then travel all the

way to that cursed island of yours and burn your city to the ground.'

'But there are problems with our ships and labour costs have—'

'I don't care about your problems!' shouted Dashrath, his legendary temper at boiling

point now.

'You will, after tomorrow,'said Raavan softly.

Dashrath swung sharply towards Raavan, riled that Kubaer's deputy had had the

audacity to interrupt the conversation. 'How dare you speak out of—'

'How dare you, Dashrath?' asked Raavan, an octave higher this time.

Dashrath, Ashwapati and Mrigasya sat in stunned silence, shocked that the mere head

of a protection force had had the temerity to address the emperor of the Sapt Sindhu by

his name.

'How dare you imagine that you can even come close to defeating an army that I lead?'

asked Raavan with an eerie sense of calm.

Dashrath stood up angrily and his chair went flying back with a loud clutter. He thrust

his finger in Raavan's direction. 'I'll be looking for you on the battlefield tomorrow, you

upstart!'

Slowly and menacingly, Raavan rose from his chair, all the while his closed right fist

covering a pendant that hung from a gold chain around his neck. As Raavan's fist

unclenched, Dashrath was horrified by what he saw. The pendant was actually the bones

of two human fingers — the phalanges of which were carefully fastened with gold links.

Clenching this macabre souvenir again, Raavan appeared to derive enormous power

from it.

Dashrath stared in disbelief. He had heard of demons that drank blood and wine from

the skulls of their enemies and even kept their body parts as trophies. But here was a

warrior who wore the relics of his enemy! Who is this monster?

'I assure you, I'll be waiting,'said Raavan, with a hint of wry humour lacing his voice,

as he watched Dashrath gape at him with horror. 'I look forward to drinking your blood.'

Raavan turned around and strode out of the tent. Kubaer hurriedly wobbled out behind

him, followed by the Lankan bodyguards.

Dashrath's anger bubbled over. 'Tomorrow we annihilate these scum. But no one will

touch that man,' he growled pointing towards the retreating figure of Raavan. 'He will be

killed by me! Only me!'

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Dashrath was bristling with fury even as the day drew to a close. 'I will personally chop

up his body and throw it to the dogs!' he shouted.

Kaikeyi sat impassively as her seething husband paced up and down the royal tent of

the Ayodhya camp. She always accompanied him on his military campaigns.

'How dare he speak to me like that?'

Kaikeyi scrutinised Dashrath languidly. He was tall, dark and handsome, the

quintessential Kshatriya. A well-manicured moustache only added to his attractiveness.Though muscular and strong, age had begun to take its toll on his well-built physique.

Stray streaks of white in his hair were accompanied by a faint hint of a sag in the

muscles. Even the Somras, the mysterious anti-ageing drink reserved for the royals by

their sages, had not been able to adequately counter a lifetime of ceaseless warring and

hard drinking.

'I am the emperor of the Sapt Sindhu!' shouted Dashrath, striking his chest with

unconcealed rage. 'How dare he?'

Even though alone with her husband, Kaikeyi maintained the demure demeanour

normally reserved for her public interactions with him. She had never seen him so angry.

'My love,' said Kaikeyi, 'save the anger for tomorrow. Have your dinner. You will

need your strength for the battle that lies ahead.'

'Does that outcaste mercenary even have a clue as to who he has challenged? I have

never lost a battle in my life!' Dashrath continued as though Kaikeyi hadn't spoken.

'And you will win tomorrow as well.'

Dashrath turned towards Kaikeyi. 'Yes, I will win tomorrow. Then I will cut him to

pieces and feed his corpse to mongrel dogs and gutter pigs!'

'Of course you will, my love. You have determined that already.'

Dashrath snorted angrily and turned around, ready to storm out of the tent. But Kaikeyi

could no longer contain herself.

'Dashrath!'she said harshly.

Dashrath stopped in his tracks. His favourite wife used that tone with him only when

necessary. Kaikeyi walked up to him, held his hand and led him to the dinner table. She

held his shoulders and roughly pushed him into the chair. Then she tore a piece of the

roti, scooped up some vegetables and meat with it, and offered it to him. 'You cannot

defeat that demon tomorrow if you don't eat and sleep tonight,'she barely whispered.

Dashrath opened his mouth. Kaikeyi stuffed the morsel of food into it.