The Rise of Hastinapur (30 page)

‘But you got what you wished out of it,’ she spat out. ‘What did I get?’

Surya smiled. ‘Did I get what I wished for? Did you not cast the book off into the Yamuna?’ His smile widened, and it seemed as if the Celestial was now gradually assuming his natural form, now that no pretence was needed. ‘But you did not foil my plan as you think you did, Princess.That book only contains what the High Priests already know. There is much in their minds that the book does not have. You thought I was after the book? Ha! It was the High Priests I wanted.’

‘The High Priests?’ Pritha asked.‘They would never join you. They are patriots, they are students of the Mysteries!’

‘They are students of the Mysteries, yes, but they are not patriots. A student of a Mystery loves nothing more than the Mystery itself, my lady. I can tell you that looking you in the eye because I am a student of the Fire Mysteries, and believe me, nothing, no person, no world is dearer to me than my Mysteries.’

She heard Adhrigu’s voice in her ear as Surya said this, the thin, wistful longing for some more time that would allow him to complete studying it, so that he could put off writing in the book for a bit longer. Then she remembered the one hour that morning during which Surya spoke to Adhrigu behind the closed door of his room. Was it that hard to believe that given the right price, Adhrigu would give up everything and follow this strange young man back to his land, where he could probe his Mystery to his heart’s content? But what was the price? What could Surya offer the old man? Even as the answer came to her she heard Surya’s voice.

‘Put yourself in Adhrigu’s place, my lady. You are old, you cannot move, your breath is rough and your coughs are heavy and dry. You have no more than a year to live, your mendicants tell you. And then, in walks a Brahmin who promises you a long life in which you would have no king to answer to, no broken Magadhan black stones to fix, no priests to mentor, and no disease against which to grapple. You can devote all the time you have to the one thing that you love the most: the probing of your Mystery.

‘And when the time came, you can name your successor, and you can live through him forever, and thus you can gain immortality. You can live the life of a Celestial, Pritha. Would you not take that life if I were to offer it to you?’

Pritha now knew what Surya had told the old man to persuade him to give up the book. The book was never important; the book was never part of the plan. What she had to protect was Adhrigu, and she had allowed herself to be swayed by the book. Perhaps it was not yet too late, she thought frantically. Perhaps she could row back to Mathura and speak to Adhrigu, convince him that Mathura and Earth needed him more than the Celestials did. ‘I shall not give up,’ she said, her voice heavy. ‘I shall sail back to Mathura right now, I shall speak to Adhrigu. I am certain that if he knew – if he knew–’

‘If he knew what, my lady?’ said Surya sadly. ‘He already knows all about me. But you are free to go to Mathura if you wish, though you may find that the High Priest’s house is empty when you reach it.’

‘I do not trust you. If I leave now, I think I will find him.’

‘You are free to go. I do not own you, so I shall not stop you. But will you listen to me some more? Let me speak – after that, if you still feel that you must go to Mathura, do so, by all means.’

Do not agree, she told herself. This was just another ploy – thread after thread of sweet words would make you want to close your eyes and sleep in his arms. Just reject him and run for the boat!

But before she could gather the strength to walk away, he began to speak.

‘If I do not steal the black stone from Mathura, my lady, you shall never see your brother and sister again,’ he said, and immediately she felt herself drawn to his voice. ‘Magadha and Mathura will continue to be strong for generations, until the secret of the black stone becomes known to all kingdoms around North Country. And soon they shall fight and take over the whole land, Kamsa and Jarasandha, once they probe enough of the Mystery to make chariots fly on their own.’

‘Make chariots fly!’ she said in a whisper. ‘You lie!’

‘Do I?’ he said, stepping closer to her and taking her hand. ‘You were present on Nabha’s farm. You saw with your own eyes what the stone can do. In a few years, perhaps, no one in North Country would be able to touch Mathura, my lady, be it on water or on land!’ He pressed her hand. ‘How will you save your brother then?’

She looked into his eyes, blue eyes, which had begun to take on a strange oval shape.

‘Your destiny is to rule, my princess, not to serve.With a strong Mathura and Magadha, that is impossible. They shall take over Shurasena, then Kunti, and then Kuru and the rest of North Country too.’ He paused to look deeper into her eyes, melting her. ‘And after North Country is vanquished, they shall ascend the mountain of Meru, and they shall come after the Celestials.’

‘But you … aren’t you too strong for them?’

He smiled. ‘We are not, my lady. Even with our knowledge of the Mysteries, we shall not be able to withstand the might of a black stone-led army. Therefore I must take it away, for your good and ours.’

‘But, my brother…’

‘Your brother shall live,’ Surya said, ‘and so shall his queen. Without the Book of Mysteries and the High Priest, Mathura shall no longer be able to make new stones, nor will she able to mend the broken ones. Slowly, they will go back to the plough, and they will fill their boats with oarsmen. They have a lot of stones already made, so perhaps they shall be powerful for the next ten years maybe, but slowly, they will crack open.’

‘Ten years,’ she mumbled. ‘That is too long.’

His hands held her shoulders in a firm, tender grip. ‘Not too long,’ he said, ‘just long enough for you to foster Mathura’s future king.’

‘Mathura’s future king,’ she repeated.

‘That is so,’ said Surya. ‘When the decline comes to Mathura and the throne falls, Jarasandha will be ready with his army at the gates, and he shall want the land for himself. If he takes it, Magadha shall be the foremost power of North Country. You must prevent that. You must see to it that Mathura’s king is ready to take to the throne when Kamsa’s reign ends.’

‘I do not understand,’ said Pritha, holding his wrists tight with her hands.

‘That is the only way you will protect your brother and sister,’ said Surya, shaking her so that her eyes became alert once again.

‘Yes,’ she said, suddenly seeing. ‘Mathura’s future king ought to be saved.’

‘He shall be. Now what of you, my lady? What shall become of you?’

He looked at her with such love that she felt her head dissolve and hands drop as she leaned against his chest.

‘You shall rule the greatest kingdom in North Country, my dear,’ said Surya, rubbing her cheeks. ‘You shall be the High Queen of Hastinapur, the capital city that thrives northward of here. Like Mathura it is wedged in between the two Great Rivers, but the soil there is the richest that you shall find across the country, and its rulers, unlike Mathura’s, are just people.’

‘Who are they?’

‘You have heard of Devavrata, no doubt,’ he said, and Pritha thought a strange look came to Surya’s face when he said that name. ‘They call him Bhishma the terrible,’ he said, in the same solemn voice. ‘His brother’s sons, Pandu and Dhritarashtra, are marriageable now.’

‘But my lord,’ said Pritha, ‘all I want … all I ever wanted … was you!’

‘And you shall have me, Princess,’ said Surya, smiling kindly at her. ‘But you shall be queen of the Kuru kingdom, for in the future the Kurus shall rule the greatest kingdom of the age. Devavrata shall see to that. And I shall see to that too.’

‘I … I do not understand, my lord.’

‘You shall, soon,’ said Surya, and with a wave of his staff a blackness came over them, shielding them from the sounds of the river, the smells of the forest, so that she was aware only of his touch, of his smell, of his sight. He drew her into an embrace, and as she gave in to his arms, she found it within herself to ask a question.

‘Will I have your child?’ she asked.

And he replied, ‘Yes.’

FOURTEEN

S
he opened her eyes just as the sky turned from black to a dark shade of purple. Pain coursed through her, and brought with it a faint memory of the night before, when it had been so sharp that she had feared that she would die in the sage’s arms. She sat up, and saw Surya, naked, holding up his loincloth to the breeze. On seeing her awake, he dusted his cloth twice and came to sit in front of her, his hands resting on the balls of his knees.

‘You do not think I have erred, do you, my child?’ he said with a distant gaze in his eyes.

‘I do not yet know what to think, my lord,’ she replied, and knew it was true. All she was aware of now was the memory that her body held of his touch, the smell of his exhaled breath on her skin, his teeth marks on her nipples, her neck, her navel, her shins. Only after these signs of his desire had worn out would she be allowed to think; not just yet.

‘I ask you that question for I am not certain myself, Pritha. I have come down to Earth to steal Mathura’s secret, and I have done that, but I did not think that I would meet you, my dear, and that I would walk down this road with you.’ Her eyes must have shown her despair, because he raised his hand at her and shook his head. ‘No, my dear, I do not regret our love for one second, for who among the Meru people can claim to be fortunate enough to be slave to your desire? No, it is not that I worry about.’

Pritha waited, and for the first time that morning the breeze seemed to turn into something harsh, sending her hair flying into her eyes and making her eyes sting.

‘You shall bear my child,’ he said. ‘If it is a daughter, she will grow up to be a priestess, and if it is a son he shall be a warrior of note. I do not think that your blood will beget any less.’

He fell silent, the vacant look in his eyes getting hollower. She understood its meaning and said, ‘I shall not rear him.’

‘No, you shall not.’

‘If I am to become queen of Hastinapur, and if I am to marry into the line of the Kurus, they should not know that I have a son.’

‘No, they should not.’

‘You knew this yesterday too, did you not?’

‘I did.’

‘And yet you made love to me, my lord. Why give me a son that I cannot have?’

He smiled at her. ‘Pritha,’ he said, ‘giving up your son for fostering does not mean that you do not have him. Once you give birth to a child, he is yours as long as one of you dies. Every mother gives away his son to fostering to some place or the other; that is the way of the world. The Lady of the River who lives on top of the mountain too had to give away her son, and he now champions the throne of Hastinapur.’

Pritha had heard versions of this tale, one which she had thought was woven to keep alive the legend of the invincible warrior that was Bhishma. ‘Is it true, then, what they say of him, sire?’

‘It is, and if the Lady of the Great River, the foremost of maidens, could not escape the lot that is of all women, you shall not be saddened by it, either.’

‘Yes, my lord, but you must know why I must have this child. You foresee great changes in Hastinapur in my time as queen, do you not?’

‘The winds of change, my dear,’ he said, ‘have already blown over the land of the Kurus.In your time as queen, Hastinapur will rise to be the foremost kingdom in all of North Country. The weakening of Mathura will only aid that, and the son of Devaki and Vasudev shall stop the Magadhans from setting up a throne in Mathura, when he comes.’

‘So this son of mine – will he rule Hastinapur when it grows to power?’

Surya thought about it, and behind him the first crack of dawn appeared in the sky. ‘You shall have other sons too, Pritha, and they will be sired by a king, and they shall have a higher stake to the throne than will my child.’

‘Then why, my lord?’ asked Pritha, sitting up in sudden anger. ‘Why do you give me this son who shall do nothing but live the life of a commoner?’

Surya began to speak, but he seemed to stop himself with great effort. A lark came flying and perched itself on his shoulder, and Pritha saw in its black beak a pink wriggling worm. With a wave of the hand he sent it away, and as the bird took wing, a little part of the worm fell to the soil next to the sage and disappeared into the earth. Surya turned to her and shook his head. ‘I cannot tell you this, my lady. Perhaps with your great wisdom you shall see one day why I did this, but now, all I can tell you is that we are trying to shape our futures.’

‘Whose future to you speak of? The earthmen’s or that of the people of the Meru?’

‘Both,’ he said. ‘One is entwined with the other. We think that the establishment of Hastinapur as the greatest kingdom in North Country is good for both earthmen and the Meru people.’

‘But you still avert my question, sir!’ she said, feeling her fists curl up into balls. ‘Hastinapur shall become the foremost city in North Country whether I do or do not give birth to a child before my marriage. Why, then, did you play this game with me?’

Surya sighed. ‘Pritha,’ he said softly. ‘Shaping the future of a kingdom is not as simple as reading its past. There is but one past and one present, but each instant of the present faces a thousand possible futures.’