THE MAHABHARATA: A Modern Rendering, Vol 2 (50 page)

Yudhishtira stands defenseless on the ground and Drona darts at him like a striking cobra. The Pandava has landed on his feet and some of his soldiers rush forward to protect him. Drona shoots a shaft of sleep at them and they all fall in a swoon. Like a tiger a lamb, Drona stalks Yudhishtira; he is hardly five chariot-lengths away and there is an outcry from the Pandava army. Then Satyaki flits between the brahmana and his quarry. The Yadava covers Drona in a dazzle of arrows. He flies at Yudhishtira, sweeps him into his chariot and rides away. Drona’s roars echo around him.

A thousand duels rage across Kurukshetra. One of the Kekaya brothers, Brihadkshatra, battles a Kaurava ally called Kshemadhurti. Both are splendid archers. They fight long and evenly, until Kshe-madhurti breaks past Bhihadkshatra’s defenses and draws first blood. Next moment, the Kekaya cuts Kshemadhurti’s head from his neck.

A Trigarta called Viradhanva fights as if to avenge himself today on the Pandava army for all his brothers and soldiers Arjuna killed yesterday. Viradhanva kills a thousand men, before Dhrishtaketu, lord of the Chedis, rides up to challenge him. Another intense duel begins. Finally, Dhrishtaketu casts a whistling javelin at the Trigarta. It nails him to his flagstaff.

Once more, Satyaki, Nakula and Sahadeva are at the van of the Pandava army and no one can stop them. Yudhishtira’s legions forge ahead. Drona comes again to hunt the Pandava king and again Satyaki intervenes brilliantly. Realizing he cannot reach Yudhishtira without beating the Yadava, Drona engages Satyaki in a duel. But Satyaki is young and exceptional and the brahmana can make no headway against him.

The battle between the lord of Sala and Draupadi’s five princes rages on, an interminable contention: the war between the mind and senses. But in the end, Sala cannot stand against those mercurial youths. Sahadeva’s son shoots him through the throat and Sala falls.

Bheema fights Alambusa briefly, but the rakshasa cannot face the son of the wind. He melts away with maya and kills a hundred Pandava soldiers. More than anything, Alambusa terrifies Yudhish-tira’s legions because he anoints himself in the gore of those he kills. He eats their flesh, quaffs their blood and drapes himself with their entrails. He makes himself truly horrific and even the Kaurava soldiers shrink from him. But Ghatotkacha has long been stalking Alambusa and now he arrives, sleek as a dark panther, to confront him. Rakshasa and rakshasa fight. Fangs and talons flash, blood spraying from them. The pair no longer uses maya, or any weapon except their own bodies. They fight hand to hand, with sinister hisses and cries that make the other soldiers turn to watch, their hair standing on end. It is a long battle; both rakshasas are determined only one of them will live.

Yudhishtira cries to Nakula near him, “How like Bheema Ghatotkacha looks! How like him he fights. Aren’t you reminded of when Bheema and Hidimba fought in the vana?”

Alambusa cries, “Rakshasa, you fight for the wrong army and you will die!”

“Not at your hands, Rakshasa,” replies Ghatotkacha and, in a blur, seizes his foe. He lifts him high above his head just as his father might have. The strength of his grandsire Vayu in his arms, he flings Alambusa down again, explosively, so his limbs fly off his trunk and his fiendish head, the scream on its white lips cut off.

A roar goes up from the Pandava army. Fear rips through Drona’s legions. Alambusa came out of the jungle to fight for Duryodhana, so he could avenge his friend Baka. Now, Bheema’s son has killed him and he lies like a mountain riven on Kurukshetra.

Yudhishtira rushes up to embrace Ghatotkacha and a glowing Bheema does, as well. It is then that they hear Krishna’s Panchajanya booming across Kurukshetra, again and again, as if he was in dire distress. The thunder of the Gandiva is drowned and Krishna does this on purpose. He knows they will need help to reach Jayadratha before sunset and he knows Arjuna will refuse to call for any, if he asks him. Yudhishtira hears the Panchajanya resound, lonely across two vyuhas. He hears Kaurava conches blaring in response. But he does not hear the Devadatta or the Gandiva. Panic grips Yudhish-tira. He is certain Arjuna is in trouble and Krishna is calling for help.

His heart pounding, Yudhishtira rides to Satyaki. He cries to the Yadava, “Krishna calls for help, Arjuna is in danger. Fly to your guru, Satyaki, he needs you!”

Satyaki says, “Arjuna needs no one’s help against these Kauravas. I have no worry for him, but for you. An hour ago, the Acharya almost had you, Yudhishtira. It would be foolish to tempt fate again. Drona by himself is more dangerous than all the others together. My place is here at your chariot-wheel, with Bheema and Dhrishtadyumna.”

Yudhishtira will not listen. “All that is true. But Satyaki, I am certain Arjuna has desperate need of you. Bheema and Dhrishtadyumna, Draupadi’s sons, the Kekayas, Ghatotkacha, Drupada, Shikhandi, Nakula, Sahadeva, Dhrishtaketu, Kuntibhoja and all my army protect me. They will keep me safe from Drona. But only you can pierce the Kaurava legions quickly enough to help my brother. Fly Satyaki, I beg you, don’t hesitate!”

Satyaki cannot bear to think that he did not rush to Arjuna’s side, when he most needed him; any more than he can bear to leave Yudhishtira at Drona’s mercy. He would never forgive himself, if either Pandava came to harm. But there is no denying the truth of what Yudhsihtira says: Arjuna fights alone and time presses him more urgently.

Satyaki makes up his mind. “I hate to leave you, my lord, but I will ride to Arjuna. The Kaurava army roars like the sea under a full moon and I long to be at them. I need more weapons and my horses must drink before I go. It is a long way to the suchimukha.”

Yudhishtira gives orders for Satyaki’s horses to be tended quickly; and for his chariot to be stocked with every weapon he might need. Satyaki must cross two vyuhas. The first Arjuna had razed; but the padma vyuha is still formidable and Drona stands guard over it again. Satyaki has fought a long, hard day already. He has fought two enervating duels with the Acharya: once when he rescued Dhrishtadyumna and then when he snatched Yudhishtira from Drona’s clutches. The Yadava decides he needs a brief rest himself; though, his heart sings at the thought of breaking through the Kaurava army, to watch his master’s moment of glory when he kills Jayadratha.

Satyaki rides back to the Pandava camp, where he pours cold water over himself, changes his battle-dress and drinks a jar of black bees’ honey to invigorate himself. All this takes hardly any time and the kshatriya is ready for his mission. His chariot is brought back to him, its panels bristling with weapons, the horses refreshed, for they too have been bathed. Satyaki’s sarathy is Daruka’s brother; and above his chariot, the banner of a golden lion flutters proudly. Wearing a garland of wild flowers, a vanamala blessed with puja, Satyaki mounts his ratha: and he looks quite like his cousin, the Dark One himself, as he prepares to set out. The sun is plummeting, every moment.

Yudhishtira sends Bheema some way with Satyaki. Like two maruts, they forge through the ruins of the shakata vyuha. Seeing Drona loom in their path, Satyaki stops his chariot. He says to Bheema, “When he sees me go, the brahmana will come for Yudhishtira again. Guard your brother well, Bheema, there is more danger here than at the heart of the lotus.”

“Yudhishtira will be safe. Fly now, my friend, the sun won’t wait for you or me!”

They embrace briefly. Then Satyaki’s chariot flashes away and Bheema stands gazing after him, as the wind blows the Yadava’s long hair behind him.

At Yudhishtira’s side, Dhrishtadyumna says, “The omens of earth and sky favor us. Satyaki will cover himself in glory. But let us prepare ourselves for the Acharya.”

EIGHTEEN
TERRIBLE SATYAKI 

Satyaki, the whirlwind, blasts through the remains of the shakata vyuha. The Kaurava soldiers attack him in fury, but he blows them away: blood flying everywhere and screams ringing, as the Yadava storms on. In a few moments, at the edge of the padma vyuha, a smiling Drona confronts Satyaki. Satyaki has no choice but to fight. Shaft for shaft he matches the canny brahmana and it seems that neither will prevail.

Drona knows what Satyaki has come for and is happy to frustrate his mission. He cries, “Your guru escaped me like a coward when we fought. He folded his hands, made a pradakshina round my chariot and fled. But you won’t escape with your life, unless you mean to be a coward as well.”

It is as if Arjuna has spoken to his pupil through his master’s lips. Satyaki laughs aloud, he roars back at Drona, “A sishya must follow his guru. If Arjuna was a coward before you, O Drona, I am happy to be one as well!”

Satyaki makes a pradakshina around the Acharya’s chariot and flashes away into the padma vyuha. As they skim along, the Yadava cries to his sarathy, “Ahead is Baahlika’s army. Beyond him is the lord of Dravida and beside him Karna’s legion from Anga. Ride at Karna and the Dravida king. Look how Drona races after us. Go like the wind. The sun drops quickly, we must reach Arjuna as soon as we can.

Satyaki, with Drona after him, roars through the Dravida king’s legions and Karna’s, in a furrow of blood. How much like the guru his sishya is: the same swiftness of hand, the same unruffled smile, as if he has all the time in the world to arrive where he is going. Kritavarman sets himself in Satyaki’s path. Satyaki does not acknowledge a Yadava before him; he fights his cousin like any enemy. Krita-varman is familiar with Satyaki’s style and draws blood. For a moment, Satyaki staggers in his chariot. Then he casts a javelin at Kritavarman’s sarathy, so he falls out of his seat. Kritavarman’s horses bolt and it is a while before he can seize the reins and bring them under control. By then Satyaki has gone, out of reach.

Kritavarman lets the advancing Pandava army feel his anger. He smashes their formation, scattering the likes of Bheema, Shikhandi and Dhrishtadyumna.

Satyaki ploughs on. He has crossed two great rivers on his way to his master: Drona, the first and Kritavarman, the second. On flares the Yadava like fire through a dry forest. Jalasandha’s legion of elephants appears in his path and, quick as wishing, Kurukshetra is strewn with grey hillocks tinted scarlet. The field looks as if Bheema is abroad. Roaring to see his beasts slain, Jalasandha himself charges Satyaki. He strikes the Yadava in the arm with a light lance and next moment, breaks his bow. Every encounter saps Satyaki’s waning strength. He has neither the time nor the stamina for a prolonged duel. The Vrishni seizes up another bow. Two arrows cut away Jalasandha’s arms at the shoulders and the third strikes off his head.

Quicker than ever, flies Satyaki, racing the sun to the horizon. But Drona has almost caught up with him and from another direction Duryodhana, also, with a force of his brothers. Already, the Yadava serves the purpose Krishna intended for him: he draws some Kaurava warriors away from Arjuna. Duryodhana surprises the young Yadava. He breaks three bows one after the other in his hands and strikes him with a dozen arrows. Undaunted, Satyaki fights on with second wind, as if he has just begun the day. But he knows his strength will soon give out; he fights as if each shaft he looses might be his last. He kills Duryodhana’s horses and the Kaurava has to flee on foot.

Kritavarman, who has just dispersed the Pandava army, charges his cousin again. As he comes, he strikes Satyaki’s sarathy with two serpentine narachas and Daruka’s brother falls unconscious. Saty-aki’s horses rear; but he leaps up onto the chariot-head, seizes the reins in his bow-hand and fights on. Kritavarman’s sarathy is wounded and his horses. Satyaki pierces his armor with a naracha of his own and his cousin faints.

No sooner is Kritavarman quelled, than Drona flashes up to bar Satyaki’s way. But an inspired Satyaki strikes down Drona’s sarathy. When the brahmana takes up the reins himself, Satyaki’s charioteer has recovered. Seizing the advantage, Satyaki strikes Drona’s horses with slim darts, which hardly wound them but bring excruciating pain. Whinnying in frenzy, the animals bolt. Drona cannot hold them and they hurtle all over Kurukshetra, until the agony in their blood subsides and gradually they grow calm. By then, Satyaki is far away. Drona returns to the lip of the padma vyuha in the dim hope that perhaps, on this bleak day, he may still capture Yudhishtira.

A river in spate, Satyaki rushes on through the Kaurava army and no one can stop him. Those like the gifted archer Sudarshana, who dare try, lie twitching in death’s spasms and are soon still. The Kaurava army begins to make way for Satyaki, as if they know that to try to resist him is to die. Among kshatriyas, the Yadava has killed Jalasandha and Sudarshana; and he has put Duryodhana, Drona and Kritavarman to flight. As for the common soldiers he has killed, there is no count of them, but at least ten thousand men. Mlecchas of Kasi he has slaughtered, Nishadas, Tankanas, Kalingas, Magadhas, Kekayas, Kambhojas, Yavanas and Vasatis.

Looking so very much like his master, Satyaki tears on: deeper and deeper into the Kaurava vyuha. His horses are white, like Arjuna’s and he stands just like his guru in his chariot, entirely at his ease. The Yavanas try to block his way, but he smashes through them disdainfully. On he flares and ahead of him, he sees a legion of Kauravas mustered just to bring him down. At the head of the force, resplendent in Brahma’s golden mail, is Duryodhana, with his brothers around him.

His eyes shining, Satyaki cries to his sarathy, “Look! An army just to stop us. Ride at them; let me repay some of the debt I owe Arjuna. Let Duryodhana know that Satyaki is Krishna’s cousin and Arjuna’s sishya and that he is invincible!”

True to his word, in a short, one-sided battle, he destroys Duryodhana’s legion. He kills Duryodhana’s sarathy and stings the Kaurava’s horses so they also bolt as Drona’s had. With Duryodhana routed, his army runs from the dreadful Yadava and he has a clear path before him again. Throwing back his head, the Vrishni roars his triumph to heaven, as he scorches on toward Arjuna.