RAMAYANA SERIES Part 4_KING OF DHARMA (67 page)

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Authors: AKB eBOOKS Ashok K. Banker

Tags: #Epic Fiction

BOOK: RAMAYANA SERIES Part 4_KING OF DHARMA
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Too late the officers gaped in disbelief and thought that perhaps they had given the wrong orders. Perhaps it was acceptable to retreat. After all, how could they fight such an enemy? And why fight it at all? The snakes of the Southwoods were not responsible for the abduction of the sacred horse! But their own orders, received from the chief of the King’s Guard, Captain Aarohan himself, had been crystal clear: No surrender, no retreat…on pain of death. 

So they stood their ground. A few soldiers were unable to stand and watch the writhing monstrosity slither towards them, like some enormous beast spread out across acres of forest ground, and they turned and ran. They were caught and despatched a mile or two back, by men of the king’s guard, deployed to ensure the obedience of the army. A few others attempted to climb trees, forgetting that many breeds of snakes live in trees. But the majority of the frontliners stayed where they were, weapons in hand and ready to use. And watched as a terrible slithering death approached them yard by twining yard. 

The line of snakes and the line of soldiers came closer together, until finally, they met, converged, and overlapped. 

TWO

Luv and Kush smiled grimly at each other as the sound of soldiers screaming came to them on the forest wind. Their first tactic had worked better than expected. They had known of the existence of the snake nest ever since they were very young: it was a legend in these parts of the forest. A great nest, larger than any ever known had always existed here near a grotto that led to a network of underground caverns. The nest itself only housed the few thousand snakes that still chose to remain in the open rocky basin at the mouth of the grotto. It was said there were tens of thousands, perhaps even hundreds of thousands inside the deep cavern. They constantly slithered up and down through the tunnels, presumably in search of food and water and sunlight, which as cold-blooded creatures, they required in order to stay alive. From the sounds of it, they had succeeded in disturbing a good number into leaving their subterranean home and traveling in search of safer climes. If those migrating serpents happened to come across several hundred armed soldiers and consider them an obstruction to their seeking of safety, well, too bad for the soldiers. 

It had been the work of moments to light a fire and throw the blazing debris down the other end of the great hole that joined up with the one at the back of that same grotto. They had not known how many snakes might be disturbed by the smoke and fire into climbing up and emerging into the open but any number would be sufficient to cause trouble in the enemy ranks. But even as they glanced down at the grotto from the top of the overhang—the only place safe enough to view the nest—they had been astonished at the sheer masses of writhing snakes that were emerging from the cave mouth. Thick sinuous green-black ropes of intertwined snakes fell in a constant stream, like a waterfall of serpents, to land on the leaf-strewn ground below, then work their way out of the nest and into the forest, snaking away at the heightened speed that their species resorted to only when faced by natural disaster or fire. They knew better than to follow the fleeing snakes to view what happened when they encountered the incoming soldiers: once let loose in the open jungle, panicked out of their minds, those snakes were an army unto themselves.  

As the screams of the soldiers continued, they climbed back down into the canyon through another route which avoided any caves or open holes which might be filled with more escaping snakes. Reaching the ground several moments later, they were greeted with sighs of relief by their Maatr and Nakhudi. 

“That was the most dangerous thing possible,” Maatr admonished. “What if those snakes had turned on you?”

Kush grinned. “We would have ordered them not to harm us by the authority of Emperor Rama Chandra of Ayodhya!”

“Yes!” Luv agreed. Both brothers laughed. 

Nakhudi glanced at Sita’s face when the boys mentioned Rama Chandra. “You boys shouldn’t speak so insolently of the King.”

“Emperor!” Luv corrected. “Why not? He’s nothing but a kshatriya corrupted by his lust for power.”

Nakhudi started to reply but Sita raised her hand. “Enough talk. That ploy with the snakes, clever though it was, won’t keep them back for long. This time they’ll come in force and when they do, it will take more than tactics to stop them.”

“It’s all right, Maatr,” Kush said. “We have a plan.”

Sita looked at each of them in turn, her face filled with some undefinable sadness. “I’m sure you do, my sons. But you will need all the help you can get. Just two of you alone, brave soldiers though you are, can’t keep back the entire Ayodhyan army.”

“Actually, Maatr,” Luv said, “in the right circumstances, it’s easier for a very small force to elude a very large army. In this part of the jungle, with this defensible position, knowing the terrain as we do, having made arrangements for such a contingency, we stand a better chance of survival than a regiment or an akshohini of defenders.”

“Yes, Maatr,” Kush added, deadly serious now. “You know this to be true. And so do you, Nakhudi.”

Nakhudi nodded slowly. “Aye, true it is. But I did not intend for you two to make this stand alone.”

Kush shrugged. “Nobody knows this terrain as well as we do. We have the advantage of being difficult to spot and quick to move. They will be expecting a much larger force, not just two defenders.” He spread his hands. “What do I have to say to convince you?”

“I’m convinced,” Sita said, struggling to rise to her feet. “Except that there will be more than just two of us defending.” She got to her feet and stood, swaying a moment, then her eyes rolled up in her head and she collapsed soundlessly. 

Nakhudi caught her without any effort and lowered her gently to the ground. After placing her comfortably on the ground she rose and looked at the boys. 

“She will be all right, but she has lost a great deal of blood. She needs rest and treatment.” 

The twins nodded, staring solemnly at her. “You must stay and care for her, Nakhudi. You do see the wisdom in that, don’t you? You must stay and protect all the survivors of the attack on the ashram.” Luv gestured at the band of wounded and exhausted brahmins and brahmacharyas clustered at the back of the box canyon. Rishi Dumma had taken charge of tending to the wounded and his bulky form was visible moving from pallet to pallet, doing the best he could to ease pain and suffering. 

Nakhudi sighed but nodded. “Yes, in the event that the Ayodhyan forces do track us down, I could hold them off at the mouth of the canyon. I will stay,” she finished shortly, not happy about it but not arguing either. 

“You will be safe here,” Kush added. “The only way the enemy can get in here is if they get past us. And they won’t.”

Nakhudi nodded slowly, passing a hand across her face which looked more weary than they had ever seen her before. “If they get past you, even her wounds won’t keep your mother down,” she said. She meant that if the enemy could enter the canyon it would mean Luv and Kush were dead and if that happened, Sita wouldn’t care to live another minute. “Nor I.”

They looked at her steadily. “We will return. Once the enemy leaves. Or surrenders.”

Nakhudi’s hand flew to her mouth involuntarily. “Surrenders!” she said. The word brought a smile to her face. The very idea! 

They neither laughed nor smiled. They had meant what they said. “Surrender is always an option for them,” they said. “Just not for us.”

That much was true. While she doubted that two young boys could bring the mighty Kosala empire to its knees in surrender, there was absolutely no doubt that the enemy would never rest now until they were all dead. It made her wonder if she was doing the right thing by letting the boys go out to fight this battle on their own. Every instinct screamed to her to order them to stay and go herself. But she knew that they were right for once. Somehow, this was their fight and they had every right to wage this war. Whatever the consequence. Even Guru Valmiki had given his assent earlier. 

“There comes a day in every child’s life when he or she must become a man or woman. For a kshatriya child, that is the day you become a kshatriya. Today is your day, boys. Go and do what you must.” 

They bowed to her, took her blessing. Then left at a run. She watched their lithe bodies go, wondering if she would ever see them alive again—or they she. 

***

Bejoo cringed at the sounds of the Ayodhyan soldiers screaming. The forest rang with their misery and fear. He and his men had been in mortal fear that the fleeing snakes might pass this way but mercifully there was water between his position and the Ayodhyan’s and the wave of serpent’s has passed them by with several hundred yards to spare. Even so, each time an Ayodhyan came stumbling to the water, lips blackened and eyes staring wildly, he cringed, praying to Shaneshwara that such a death never befall him. These were the stragglers who had been fortunate enough, if you could call them fortunate, to be bitten by snakes with slower-acting venom. Already consumed with fever and madness, they sought out water desperately. But no amount of water could save them. They would die slower and less painfully than their less fortunate comrades but die they would, whether it took minutes more or hours. He estimated that several hundred must have been bitten by the fleeing wave of snakes. The distant spiral of smoke had told him how the boys had caused the snakes to flee this way but he could not imagine venturing even close to a nest large enough to house so many deadly reptiles. No doubt about it: The sons of the Lady Vedavati were truly extraordinary in every way. 

Now, he waited in the woods across the stream as the sound of hooves announced the arrival of new troops. Metal glittered and flashed through the trees, catching the morning sunlight and from the looks and sound of it, he estimated that this was the main body of the King’s Guard he had seen earlier. A familiar lean face came into view, riding a huge stallion, and Bejoo recognized the villain who led this newly conscripted legion at once. Captain Aarohan. He had heard tales about the man that he had not paid much heed to at the time. As a simple grama-rakshkak, the politics of the army and city no longer concerned him overmuch. But now that he was involved again, the very sight of the man made his stomach churn. He knew now that the tales he had heard were probably true. The devastation at Valmiki Ashram confirmed it. What manner of monster would attack and slaughter innocent unarmed brahmacharyas, boys and women included, without provocation or cause? Had he been thirty years younger—fifteen even—and still in charge of his Vajra, he would have gladly led a lightning attack against that monster. The man deserved to have all the snakes in the Southwoods set upon him and left to die. 

He watched as Aarohan questioned the groaning and half-poisoned remnants of the first wave with growing impatience then outright anger. He heard the sound of the man’s raised voice and saw his whip curl out and lash men mercilessly as he vented his anger at the unexpected thwarting of the advance. Bejoo’s lips curled back grimly, not relishing the sight of army men being abused thus, but taking pleasure in Aarohan’s frustration. He was too far away to hear much of what was said but the overall gist was quite obvious. 

***

“What do you mean, retreat?” Aarohan snarled. He lashed out with his horse-whip again, leaving a welt rising on the cheek and neck of a sergeant in charge of one of the forward platoons. The man took the beating with stubborn resignation, either accustomed to such abuse under the new Empirical Army or simply too terrified to care. “Our orders are to flush out and destroy the rebels, whatever the cost!”

The sergeant spoke without looking up at the mounted officer. He knew better than to match gazes with the notorious new Captain, allegedly the right-hand man of Pradhan Mantri Jabali himself and already notorious by his nickname, Spike Hand Aarohan, owing to an incident in which the Captain had used a spiked handguard to beat a man until the very flesh was ripped off his face, rendering him unrecognizable even to his own family. “They have Nagas fighting for them. And who knows what other breed of Asuras. They are demons in human guise. We cannot fight such creatures.”

Aarohan stared at the man for a moment as if unable to absorb his words. Then he lashed out with greater ferocity than before, whipping the man mercilessly as he lost his temper. “FOOL! They were only snakes. They must have flushed them out of some pit. No doubt they bred the wretched reptiles for food. There are no asuras or Nagas left on earth, don’t you know that? This is the Treta Yuga not the ancient world!”

The sergeant collapsed wordlessly under the beating. He had been bitten mainly only non-venomous snakes but he had attempted to suck out the poison from the wounds of several of his men and in the process some venom had entered his bloodstream as well. Now, under the barrage from Aarohan, he suffered a fatal collapse and sprawled on the ground, body quivering, legs lurching, foam oozing from his open mouth. 

Several of the men under the sergeant’s command ran up to help him. “BACK!” shouted Aarohan, using his whip to warn them. He saw a spear clutched in one man’s hand and said, “Hand me that!” The man handed him the spear, looking dazed. 

Aarohan turned his horse around, rode the few yards back to where the sergeant lay in the throes of the venom-induced attack, and drove the spear down through the man’s throat. The sergeant died, gurgling and gasping. His men reared back in horror. 

Aarohan wrenched the spear out of the man’s throat and turned to point the bloody end at them. “The punishment for retreat is death! The penalty for failing in your mission is death! The danda for disobeying or questioning my orders is death! Do you understand?” 

They stared at him dumbly. Then belatedly shouted a ragged response: “Aye!” There was only fear and no respect in their tone but their response was clear. 

“Now, continue in your mission! Track down and find the rebels and kill them all. Spread the word down the lines. Search and kill all rebels! No retreat, no surrender.”

Then, to underline his point, he flung the spear at the crowd of dazed soldiers. It struck a foot-soldier in the belly, driving him back into the crowd. He collapsed, dying. His comrades started to bend to give him aid, then remembered that Aarohan was watching and straightened up again. They stared at him, then turned and began shuffling away, snatching up their weapons. Even the wounded and those who had injured themselves getting away from the snakes but had not been actually bitten scrambled to their feet and ran after their comrades. In moments, the clearing by the stream was empty except for the dead sergeant and other men who had collapsed from the slower-acting venom and were eking out their last moments. 

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