Scion of Ikshvaku (32 page)

Kaushalya, still unsure of the influence that Kaikeyi exercised over Dashrath, had remained careful in her dealings with her husband. She wasn’t sure how long she would remain Dashrath’s favourite queen. To her, he was still ‘His Majesty’. But this kid-glove treatment only agitated Dashrath further.

‘In Lord Parshu Ram’s name, Kaushalya, stop mollycoddling me and knock some sense into your son,’ screamed Dashrath. ‘What do you think will happen if he is gone for fourteen years? Do you think the nobles will just wait around patiently for his return?’

‘Ram,’ said Kaushalya. ‘Your father is right. Nobody has asked for you to be punished. The Vayuputras have not made any demands.’

‘They will,’ said Ram in a steady voice. ‘It’s only a matter of time.’

‘But we don’t have to listen to them. We do not follow their laws!’

‘If I expect others to follow the law, then so should I.’

‘Are you trying to be suicidal, Ram?’ asked Dashrath, his face flushed, his hands trembling in anger.

‘I am only following the law, Father.’

‘Can’t you see what my health is like? I will be gone soon. If you are not here, Bharat will become king. And, if you are out of the Sapt Sindhu for fourteen years, by the time you return Bharat will have consolidated his rule. You will not even get a village to govern.’

‘Firstly, Father, if you pronounce Bharat crown prince when I am gone, then it is his right to become king. And I think Bharat will make a good ruler. Ayodhya will not suffer. But if you continue with me as the crown prince even while I’m in exile, I am sure that Bharat will give back the throne to me when I return. I trust him completely.’

Dashrath laughed harshly. ‘You actually think it will be Bharat ruling Ayodhya once you’re gone?
No!
It will be his mother. And Kaikeyi will have you killed in exile, son.’

‘I will not allow myself to be killed, Father. But if I am killed, maybe that is what fate has in store for me.’

Dashrath banged his fist on his head, his frustration ringing loudly through the angry grunt he let out.

‘Father, my mind is made up,’ said Ram with finality. ‘But if I leave without your permission, it will be an insult to you; and an insult to Ayodhya. How can a crown prince disobey the king’s orders? That’s why I am asking you to please banish me.’

Dashrath turned to Kaushalya, throwing up his hands in frustration.

‘This is going to happen, Father, whether you like it or not,’ said Ram. ‘Your banishing me will keep Ayodhya’s honour intact. So, please do it.’

Dashrath’s shoulders drooped in resignation. ‘At least agree with my other suggestion.’

Ram stood resolute, but with an apologetic expression on his face.
No
.

‘But Ram, if you marry a princess from a powerful kingdom, then you will have a strong ally when you return to claim your inheritance. Kekaya will never side with you. Ashwapati is Kaikeyi’s father after all. But if you marry a princess from another powerful kingdom, then—’

‘My apologies for interrupting you, Father. But I have always maintained that I will marry only one woman. And I have. I will not insult her by marrying another.’

Dashrath stared at him helplessly.

Ram felt he needed to clarify further. ‘And if my wife dies, I will mourn her for the rest of my life. But I will never ever marry again.’

Kaushalya finally lost her temper. ‘What do you mean by that, Ram? Are you trying to imply that your own father will get your wife killed?’

‘I didn’t say that, Mother,’ said Ram, calmly.

‘Ram, please understand,’ pleaded Dashrath, desperately trying to keep his temper in check. ‘She is the princess of Mithila, a minor kingdom. She will not prove to be of any use in the struggle you will face ahead.’

Ram stiffened, but kept his voice polite. ‘She is my wife, Father. Please speak of her with respect.’

‘She is a lovely girl, Ram,’ said Dashrath. ‘I have been observing her for the last few days. She is a good wife. She will keep you happy. And you can remain married to her. But if you marry another princess, then—’

‘Forgive me, Father. But no.’

‘Dammit!’ screamed Dashrath. ‘Get out of here before I burst a blood vessel!’

‘Yes, Father,’ said Ram, and calmly turned to leave.

‘And you are not leaving this city without my order!’ yelled Dashrath at Ram’s retreating form.

Ram looked back, his face inscrutable. With deliberate movements, he bowed his head, folded his hands into a namaste, and said, ‘May all the Gods of our great land continue to bless you, Father.’ And then, with equal lack of haste, he turned and walked out.

Dashrath glared at Kaushalya, rage pouring out of his eyes. His wife cowered with an apologetic expression on her face, as though she had somehow failed him in this show of will by Ram.

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Chapter 27
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On returning to his section of the palace, Ram was told that his wife was out, visiting the royal garden. He decided to join her, and found her in conversation with Bharat. Just like everyone else, his brother had initially been shocked when he heard about Ram’s marriage to an adopted princess from a small kingdom. However, within a short span of time, Bharat had grown to respect Sita, her intelligence and strength of character. The two had spent a lot of time with each other, finding a deep sense of appreciation for the qualities they discovered in the other.

‘…Which is why I think freedom is the most important attribute of life,
Bhabhi
,’ said Bharat.

‘More important than the law?’ asked Sita.

‘Yes. I believe there should be as few laws as possible; enough just to provide a framework within which human creativity can express itself in all its glory. Freedom is the natural way of life.’

Sita laughed softly. ‘And what does your elder brother have to say about your views?’

Ram walked up to them from behind and placed his hands on his wife’s shoulders. ‘His elder brother thinks that Bharat is a dangerous influence!’

Bharat burst out laughing as he rose to embrace his brother. ‘
Dada
…’

‘Should I be thanking you for entertaining your
bhabhi
with your libertarian views?!’

Bharat smiled as he shrugged. ‘At least I won’t convert the citizens of Ayodhya into a bunch of bores!’

Ram laughed and said, tongue in cheek, ‘That’s good then!’

Bharat’s expression instantly transformed and became sombre. ‘Father is not going to let you go,
Dada
. Even
you
know that. You’re not going anywhere.’

‘Father doesn’t have a choice. And neither do you. You will rule Ayodhya. And you will rule it well.’

‘I will not ascend the throne this way,’ said Bharat, shaking his head. ‘No, I will not.’

Ram knew that there was nothing he could say that would ease Bharat’s pain.

‘
Dada
, why are you insisting on this?’ asked Bharat.

‘It’s the law, Bharat,’ said Ram. ‘I fired a
daivi astra
.’

‘The hell with the law,
Dada
! Do you actually think your leaving will be in the best interests of Ayodhya? Imagine what the two of us can achieve together; your emphasis on rules and mine on freedom and creativity. Do you think either you or I can be as effective alone?’

Ram shook his head. ‘I’ll be back in fourteen years, Bharat. Even you just conceded that rules have a significant place in a society. How can I convince others to follow the law if I don’t do so myself? The law must apply equally and fairly to every single person. It is as simple as that.’ Then Ram stared directly into Bharat’s eyes. ‘Even if it helps a heinous criminal escape death, the law should not be broken.’

Bharat stared right back, his expression inscrutable.

Sita, sensing that the brothers were talking about something else and that things were getting decidedly uncomfortable, rose from the bench and said to Ram, ‘You have a meeting with General Mrigasya.’

‘I don’t mean to be rude, but are you sure that your wife should be here?’ asked Mrigasya, the general of the Ayodhyan army.

Ram and Sita had received the general in their private office.

‘There are no secrets between us,’ said Ram. ‘In any case, I would tell her what has been discussed. She may as well hear it directly from you.’

Mrigasya cast an enigmatic look at Sita, and let out a long breath before addressing Ram. ‘You can be emperor right away.’

The king of Ayodhya automatically became the emperor of the Sapt Sindhu; this had been the privilege of the Suryavanshi clan that ruled Kosala, since the days of Raghu. Mrigasya was offering to smoothen the path for Ram to ascend the throne of Ayodhya.

Sita was stunned, but kept her face deadpan. Ram frowned.

Mrigasya misunderstood what was going through Ram’s mind. He assumed that Ram was wondering why the general would help him, when one of his officials had been penalised on the orders of the prince, for what Mrigasya thought was a minor crime of land-grabbing.

‘I am willing to forget what you did to me,’ said Mrigasya, ‘if you are willing to remember what I am doing for you right now.’

Ram remained silent.

‘Look, Prince Ram,’ continued Mrigasya, ‘the people love you for your police reforms. There is the matter of Dhenuka, for which you became unpopular for a while, but that has been forgotten in the glow of your victory over Raavan in Mithila. In fact, you may not know this, but you have become popular among the common people across India, not just Kosala. Nobody is hated more in the Sapt Sindhu than Raavan, and you defeated him. I can bring the nobles of Ayodhya to your side. Most of the major kingdoms in the Sapt Sindhu will swing towards the eventual winner. The only one we need to worry about is Kekaya and the kingdoms under its influence. But even those kingdoms, the descendants of King Anu, have differences among themselves that we could easily exploit. In short, what I’m telling you is that the throne is yours for the taking.’

‘What about the law?’ asked Ram.

Mrigasya looked baffled, like someone had spoken in an unknown language. ‘The law?’

‘I have fired the
Asuraastra
and I have to serve my sentence.’

Mrigasya laughed. ‘Who will dare punish the future emperor of the Sapt Sindhu?’

‘Maybe the present emperor of the Sapt Sindhu?’

‘Emperor Dashrath wants you to ascend the throne. Trust me. He will not send you off on some ludicrous exile.’

Ram’s expression did not change but Sita could sense that her husband was getting deeply irritated as he closed his eyes.

‘Prince?’ asked Mrigasya.

Ram ran his hand across his face. His fingers rested on his chin as he opened his eyes and stared into Mrigasya’s; he whispered, ‘My father is an honourable man. He is a descendant of Ikshvaku. He will do the honourable thing; as will I.’

‘Prince, I don’t think you understand—’

Ram interrupted Mrigasya. ‘I don’t think
you
understand, General Mrigasya. I am a descendant of Ikshvaku. I am a descendant of Raghu. My family would rather die than bring disrepute to our clan’s honour.’

‘Those are mere words…’

‘No. It is a code; a code that we live by.’

Mrigasya leaned forward, adopting a manner as if he was speaking to a child not familiar with the ways of the world. ‘Listen to me, Prince Ram. I have seen a lot more of this world than you have. Honour is for the textbooks. In the real world…’

‘I think we are done, General,’ said Ram, rising with a polite namaste.

‘What?’ asked Kaikeyi. ‘Are you sure?’

Manthara had rushed to Kaikeyi’s chamber, secure in the knowledge that neither Dashrath nor any of his personal staff would be present. Kaikeyi’s staff was not a concern; originally from her parental home in Kekaya, they were fiercely loyal to her. Seating herself beside the queen, she nevertheless exercised abundant caution and commanded the queen’s maids to leave the room, ordering them to shut the door on their way out.

‘I wouldn’t be here if I wasn’t sure,’ said Manthara, as she shifted in her chair to ease the discomfort to her back. The royal furniture was a travesty compared to the well-designed, ergonomic furniture in Manthara’s opulent home. ‘Money opens all mouths; everyone has a price. The emperor is all set to announce in court tomorrow that Ram will be king in his stead, and that he will take
Vanvaas
in the forests.
Vanvaas
with all his queens, I might add. You too may have to live in some jungle hut, from now on.’

Kaikeyi scowled at her, as she gritted her teeth.

‘Gritting your teeth will only wear out the enamel,’ said Manthara. ‘If you think you should do something more practical, then today is the day. The time is right now. You will never get an opportunity like this again.’

Kaikeyi was annoyed at Manthara’s tone; her demeanour had changed from the day she had given her that money to carry out her vengeance. But she needed the powerful trader for now, so she exercised restraint. ‘What do you suggest?’

‘You once mentioned the promise that Dashrath made to you after you saved him at the Battle of Karachapa.’

Kaikeyi leaned back in her chair as she remembered the long-forgotten promise, a debt she never really believed she would need to collect. She had saved his life in that disastrous battle with Raavan, losing a finger and getting seriously injured herself. When Dashrath had regained consciousness, he had, in his gratitude, made an open-ended promise to Kaikeyi that he would honour any two wishes she made, anytime in life. ‘The two boons! I can ask for anything!’

‘And he has to honour it.
Raghukul reet sadaa chali aayi, praan jaaye par vachan naa jaaye
.’

Manthara had recited the motto of the Suryavanshi clan that ruled Ayodhya; or at least, what had been their motto since the days of the great Emperor Raghu. It translated as: The clan of Raghu has always followed a tradition; they would much rather die than dishonour their word.

‘He cannot say no…’ whispered Kaikeyi, a glint in her eye.

Manthara nodded.

‘Ram should be banished for fourteen years,’ said Kaikeyi. ‘I’ll tell him to say publicly that he is doing so to punish him according to the rules of Lord Rudra.’

‘Very wise. That will make the public accept it. Ram is popular with the people now, but nobody will want to break Lord Rudra’s rule.’

‘And he has to declare Bharat the crown prince.’

‘Perfect! Two boons; the solution to all problems.’

‘Yes…’

As she rode over the bridge that spanned the Grand Canal, Sita looked around to check that she was not being followed. She had covered her face and upper body with a long
angvastram
, as if protecting herself from the cold, late evening breeze.

The road stretched into the distance, heading east towards lands that Kosala controlled directly. A few metres ahead, she looked back again, and steered the reins to the left, off the road. She rode into the jungle and immediately made a clicking sound, making her horse break into a swift gallop. She had to cover an hour’s distance in just half the time.