RAMAYANA SERIES Part 4_KING OF DHARMA (49 page)

SIXTEEN

Bharat exchanged a glance with Shatrugan before looking up at Rama. “Ayodhya-naresh, Kosala-narad,” he said formally yet in as friendly a tone as possible. “I believe I speak for both Shatrugan and myself when I assert that Mathura and Gandahar are both sworn allies to Ayodhya. The question of transgression does not arise. We have nothing but goodwill towards the Kosala nation and its capital city. Not to mention the fact that we are both loyal sons of Ayodhya and patriots to the core.”

Even as he spoke he was aware of the hostile looks directed at both himself and Shatrugan, as well as the presence of swords and daggers among the members of the War Council. But weapons are forbidden by law in the sabha hall! It has been so since the days of Manu and the ignoble uprising. The event that had precipitated the imposition of the law had occurred during the reign of Manu the Lawmaker, an illustrious ancestor of their’s who was legendary for his creation of the famous Laws of Manu, a code of conduct that did not find favour with all who served under him, particularly those whom the Laws sought to muzzle, contrain, or otherwise restrain. That had led to an uprising of the court nobles on one occasion, and a bloody fight in the sabha hall – this very sabha hall – and the subsequent imposition of the rule that weapons would henceforth be forbidden within the sabha hall, an offense punishable by immediate and lifelong banishment from all court affairs. The event came to be called the Ignoble Uprising and the rule had stuck. Until now. Bharat wondered grimly how many other changes Rama and his War Council and state advisors had brought about, and which other time-honoured traditions had been overthrown as summarily as this one. 

Rama accepted a goblet of some manner of drink from a serving man – a serving man, not girl, which was another unusual change, Bharat noted. He seriously doubted the use of men in place of women to serve the liege had anything to do with equalitarianism. More likely it was for other more military reasons; the fact that the serving man had the body and manner of a trained soldier and carried a discreetly worn short sword did not escape him either. 

Rama sipped briefly from the goblet before speaking. “Your past actions have no relevance. All that matters is your present transgression against the state. Do you accept or deny that you have acted against the best interests of Ayodhya?”

Bharat frowned while still trying to keep his voice polite and expression friendly. “My Lord Rama, how can past actions have no relevance? They have every bearing upon a man’s motives and present actions. Every living breath expended by either of us has been in the service of Ayodhya. Besides, we have not even been informed what these allegations against us may be. How can we accept or deny them then?”

Rather than reply, Rama continued to sip his drink while his eyes remained on Bharat. Instead it was Bhadra who spoke up in the irritatingly laconic tone that had always sounded to Bharat as if he was sneering at everything and everyone. 

“You are impudent to even question the sunwood throne thus. The rajya sabha has already heard the charges against you and found them meritorious. There is no obligation to inform you of the details. In fact, the only reason why Lord Rama is permitting you this appearance is on account of your past services to Ayodhya. The Council itself has already found its verdict and the vote is against you. All that remains now is to announce the danda imposed on you two.”

Years of kingship and numerous diplomatic parleys and negotiations with a variety of other powerful people had tempered Bharat’s youthful temper considerably. While he might never become legendary as a diplomat or politician, he was justifiably proud of the fact that unlike most Arya kings and lords, he had learned to wield his tongue rather than his sword to convince those who disagreed with him. But hearing Bhadra speak now, completely out of turn and against all protocol, that too in a tone that dripped with irony and utter disrespect for Bharat’s lineage, made him want to cry to hell with diplomacy and fling himself at the hefty Advisor. Who in the name of Ravana’s butt is this fool anyway? When we were kids, and he tried to tag along with us, Rama was the one who used to have least sympathy for him. A spoilt snot-nosed rich noble’s brat who inherited too much family fortune and power at too young an age. And now he sits by Rama’s right hand and speaks for him? Outrageous! 

He felt Shatrugan’s calloused palm on his shoulder and warm breath on the side of his neck. “Sabar, bhraatr,” whispered his brother. Patience, brother. 

The watchful eyes and alert hands poised over pommels and hilt-guards surrounding them underscored the merit of Shatrugan’s advice. Besides, he had no desire to start a blood-battle with the adminstrators of his own family throne, no matter how strongly he might disagree with their methods. 

It still took an effort for him to reply in a level tone. “With due respect, Lord Bhadra, I believe my brother and I have every right to know the allegations made against us and to be given a fair chance to speak for ourselves. Where I do agree with you is that the sabha is not obliged to inform us of these allegations. The accuser must personally face us in open court,” he gestured at the virtually deserted hall to indicate that it by no means satisfied the definition of an open court, “and speak his accusations in our presence. The question of the Council finding a verdict against us does not arise, since the process of justice has not yet been carried out under Ayodhyan Law, let alone Arya law.” Again, he emphasized ‘Ayodhyan’ to highlight the fact that while Arya law might be interpreted variously by different tribes and nations, Ayodhya was legendary for its justice and fairness – if Bhadra, whose lineage came from a particularly brutal bloodstained grama with a history of resorting to violence in order to amass its lands and wealth, regarded that emphasis as a reminder that his own family did not have the best record for abiding by the Law, well so be it. He was rewarded by seeing the man’s eyes narrow at that emphasis. 

Bhadra moved his mouth as if to speak, but Bharat held up his hand and continued: “Besides, it was my impression that Lord Rama had addressed me. Is it now acceptable protocol for a mere nobleman to interrupt when kings are in formal dialogue?”

That one struck home hard. Bharat saw Bhadra’s eyes widen, and his nostrils flare alongwith his anger. Bhadra’s own temper was notorious. Even as a boy he had been in the ugly habit of beating his dogs and horses to death when they did not obey his commands to the letter. Bharat now saw a flash of that same boyhood cruelty rise to the fore as the Advisor took a step forward, hand reaching for the hilt of his sword. Come on then, make a move against me, and we’ll see who gets the danda then. 

Rama’s hand rose. Bhadra stopped short, although his eyes burned now with a hot rage that Bharat had seen too often before to mistake for anything less than a death-wish. He marked in his mind as a reminder of the exact moment when the Advisor had first become his mortal enemy. 

“Enough.” Rama placed the goblet on a tray beside the sunwood throne. “This is a waste of valuable time. The Council has far more vital matters to discuss today.” 

He looked at someone beyond the edge of the circle of Counsellors and Ministers and made a gesture that Bharat could not catch. Someone flitted away into the shadows in response, off to do Rama’s bidding. Rama turned his eyes back to Bharat, a faint trace of a smile evident now. “Lord Bharat, your concern for Ayodhya Law – as against Arya  Law,” he said, showing that he had caught the nuance as well as the implied insult to Bhadra’s own family background, “is commendable. However, you are not facing a lok sabha. This is a rajya sabha. Hence there is no requirement of an open public court. We are in a time of war. This is a War Council seated here today. We operate under rule of martial law now, and all decisions and judgements are summary and immediate and not subject to the usual process of public hearings and trials.”

Bharat’s heart sank as he realized what this meant and what Rama was leading up to. Rama read his reaction and smiled coldly before continuing. 

“I see you follow my meaning now. Under martial law, the War Council in conjunction with the rajya sabha,” Rama indicated both the circle of Counsellors as well as the usual roster of ministers, “are empowered to consider any act of transgression or treason against the state in private and arrive at private judgement. Only the danda need be announced publicly, and it is that part of the process for which you are summoned here today.” 

Rama gestured again and Bharat glanced back to see a group of figures coming forward from the shadows, apparently just brought into the sabha hall on Rama’s summons. He was more than a little shocked to see the Queens Kausalya and Sumitra, as well as a few other elder statesmen and stateswomen of the court. From the puzzled faces, he knew that the ‘witnesses’ had not been told anything either. 

Rama gestured to the small group who were now standing in the light of the mashaals, blinking and looking curiously at Bharat and Shatrugan as they tried to understand what what going on. “Here are the witnesses as required by law, and in their presence I shall now pronounce your danda. Bharat and Shatrugan. For transgressions against the state of Kosala and the throne of Ayodhya, you are both stripped of your kingships and all other possessions and placed under house arrest within the bounds of the Royal Palace with immediate effect and for an indefinite period of time. This sentence is now pronounced by me, Rama Chandra of Ayodhya, under the auspices of Ayodhyan martial law. I ask that the War Council seconds it.”

“So seconded,” said Bhadra eagerly, his teeth glinting whitely in the light of a mashaal. He locked eyes with Bharat, lip curling in that familiar sneer of triumph.

“The Sabha of Ministers confirms it,” Pradhan Mantri Jabali said aloud. 

Rama nodded. “The motion is carried. Have the accused taken into custody at once.”

SEVENTEEN

“Wait!” cried a woman’s voice. 

Had it been anyone else, Shatrugan knew the plea would have fallen on deaf ears. But it was Kausalya-maa who cried out. First Queen of Ayodhya by Dasaratha’s side, then Queen Regent during those long years of exile, and now Queen Mother to the seated King. For the past ten years, she had played no active role in the administration and governance of Ayodhya—had in fact been relieved and happy to surrender all responsibility to Rama—but the knowledge of her power and stature remained, as did the overwhelming affection the people, the court, even the armed forces felt towards her. Many considered her an avatar of the goddess, and while associations of royalty with divinity were common across Aryavarta, in Kausalya-maa’s case, they were believed more fervently and by greater numbers than was usual. 

The soldiers who had encircled Bharat and he in a ring of spears and were about to shepherd them out the sabha hall halted at once. Shatrugan saw them glance at each other uneasily. That single uneasy glance told him more than an hour of questioning would have revealed. They know things are not right here. They don’t like it. But they have no choice but to follow orders. 

He saw his clan-mother step forward, out of the group that had been summoned at this unearthly hour to serve as witnesses in this sorry excuse for a trial. She walked through the circle of seated Ministers and Counsellors, towards the royal dais itself. Pradhan Mantri Jabali stood in her way, looking down his hawk nose at her imperiously. She met his hawk gaze with an eagle stare of her own, and he visibly blanched and shuffled aside. Like most politicians who advocated war and invasion and signed the death warrants of countless young bodies sent out to do violence on unseen enemies in distant lands, Jabali was a coward at heart. Shatrugan bitterly wished Sumantra were still here among them, with his quiet grace and wisdom. But this was what they had to work with, the likes of Jabali and Bhadra. This was Ayodhya today. 

Bhadra made a move as if to block Kausalya’s path too, and from the insolent expression on his face, Shatrugan knew he would not cow down as easily as Jabali had done. The Advisor was no coward, he was something far worse: a man who took pleasure in harming others through brute violence but clever enough to disguise it as in a warrior’s willingness for combat. Shatrugan would not put it past him to lay a hand on Kausalya too. 

But Rama spoke then, in a voice so quiet, it was clearly intended only for Bhadra. “She may speak.”

Bhadra hesitated, then stepped back to his position to the right of the throne. He folded his arms across his muscled chest, biceps bulging and anga-vastra tightening around them, as he watched Kausalya approach. 

She walked to the foot of the dais, up the steps, and right up to the sunwood throne itself. Shatrugan saw several Counsellors and Ministers turn their heads to speak with one another, without taking their eyes off her for an instant. It was against protocol to approach a sitting liege thus, without being expressly ordered or given permission. But Rama had said “She may speak,” and he seemed unperturbed by her approach. 

She stopped one step below the throne, maintaining a little more than a sword’s length distance between Rama and herself—though of course, she wore no sword at all—and remained over two heads lower than his eyeline. Thus, she maintained the decorum of the court and throne, still looking up to her liege and keeping safe distance, yet using the unusual position to assert her own stature and power. Now that is a brilliant politician, Shatrugan thought, resisting the urge to flash a grin. And not one playing to advance her career either; everything that Kausalya-maa did, she did for the common good. Nothing more or less. Nobody else in the whole world would dare to approach the King of Ayodhya thusly, yet after all, nobody else in the whole world could claim to have borne the King of Ayodhya for nine months in her own womb either. For all its recent emphasis on masculine muscle, Arya civilization was after all, a matriarchial civilization. For as the cheeky old commonspeak saying went: “Lineage is father’s privilege. But only the mother can say who is truly whose!” 

Kausalya spoke words to Rama then. She did so quietly enough and rapidly enough that nobody, least of all those standing as far away as Shatrugan and Bharat were, could catch her words. No doubt Bhadra could hear her quiet well, being as close to Rama as he was, and it was by watching his face as well as Rama’s own features, that Shatrugan had some semblance of understanding what Kausalya might have said. 

Bhadra’s face turned white with anger almost at once, then red with frustration as she continued speaking and Rama continued listening without reaction or response, then finally it turned purple with impotent rage by the time she finished, reached out, laid a hand gentle on Rama’s knees, stretching out to touch it, then stepped back, dismounting the steps as gracefully as she had mounted them and without once needing to glance down or backwards. She reached the foot of the dais, adjusted her garment to ensure her head was properly covered as court protocol required, and waited quietly. 

Bhadra stepped towards the throne, his adam’s apple bobbing furiously in his throat. He opened his mouth to speak, but before he could get a word out, Rama raised a hand, causing Bhadra to stop, and gestured him back with a faintly admonishing gesture. Bhadra stepped back and stayed quiet, but it was evident that the amount of self-control those two simple acts required cost the Advisor dearly. He knew better than to glare at Kausalya the way he had glared at Bharat earlier: hot-headed as he might be, Bhadra was shrewd enough to display enough outward control to have gotten this far. But he’s not going to take this lying down either, Shatrugan thought grimly. Whatever Kausalya-maa said to Rama, it must have been really effective. 

As if agreeing, Rama lowered the same hand he had raised to stop Bhadra and pointed it at Bharat and Shatrugan. 

“Release them.”

Pradhan Mantri Jabali sputtered in protest: “My Lord!”

Rama gestured Jabali to silence. “Queen Mother Kausalya, in her capacity as Elder Maatr of the dynasty, has proposed an alternative danda for the two transgressors. As Samrat of the assembly, I have considered her proposal and deemed it acceptable. Therefore, instead of placing Lords Bharat and Shatrugan under house arrest, I am entrusting them with a task. If they oversee the completion of the task successfully, they shall be deemed to have proven their fealty to the Kosala nation and the sunwood throne beyond doubt. But should they fail in this task or waiver in any manner, their danda shall be increased to the maximum penalty under law. Namely, summary execution.”

Shatrugan swallowed. What in the name of Devi had just happened? Was this supposed to be a reprieve or an escalation? He glanced at Bharat and saw the same thought reflected in his eyes: Two princes of Ayodhya, threatened with execution for transgressions against Ayodhya? Surely their father—nay, all their ancestors—must be fuming in the afterlife!

But then he looked at Kausalya and saw something very different in her face. She looked grim too, but she also looked relieved, as if she had achieved her goal. Their eyes met and she inclined her head very slightly, just enough to reassure him. 

Without wholly understanding what had just happened and what lay ahead, Shatrugan nevertheless felt better than he had just moments earlier. He trusted Kausalya-maa. With his life if need be. Whatever she had wrought for his and Bharat’s sake, it would be right. 

Before anyone else could say another word, a familiar furred shape flew in through the same window through which he had exitted not long before. Hanuman walked up to the foot of the dais bowed deeply and said, “My Lord Rama, they are arrayed as you commanded. Awaiting your inspection.” 

Rama nodded and rose from the throne. At once, everyone present who was also seated rose as well. Rama walked down the steps of the dais. Following in his wake, the rest of the entourage went with him, Bharat and Shatrugan as well.