The Rise of Hastinapur (43 page)

T
o Gandhari, the beautiful Princess and Queen of Gandhar, the Land of Gold, Bhishma, the Champion of Hastinapur’s throne, presents his salutations. I hope that all is well in the royal palace, and that your lands bear enough crop and your mines produce enough gold.

I have begun to notice over the last three months that the amount of trade that your kingdom does with my merchants has reduced remarkably. Indeed, it has now reached a point where my merchants have refused to come to Gandhar, for I am being told that you have set up stalls of your own to rival my people’s, and that you give away your items at prices that are near pittances. My traders have thus begun to seek other, greener pastures.

This saddens me. Gandhar and Hastinapur have such a long history in trading with each other, and you know that my kingdom relies on the gold arising out of sale of our items in Gandhar for a great many things. I have always thought that the prices my traders set on the goods that they sell are fair, and they have forever been eager to engage in trade on your terms, my lady. If you wanted them to cut down prices, all you needed to do was to ask.

But I think not that the issue here is that of price. If you have found a way to sell milk, tables, grain and fruit for nothing, then it must only mean one thing: that you have indeed found a way to produce these things for nothing – and that is impossible. There is a cost to producing everything, and that leaves me with two possible explanations to this recent turn of events: one, you have found a kingdom from which you can steal these items without their knowledge, much like Hastinapur did with Gandhar. And two, you found a city that would give these to you without charging a price for them.

If it is the first – though I do not think it is – then I must offer you my good wishes, along with a warning. You cannot steal indefinitely from the same person. Sooner or later they will check their pockets, and when they find them empty, they shall follow the trickle of coins and arrive at your doorstep. Be certain that you are prepared for that day, because it will come, like it did when you discovered us.

But with respect, I do not think you could be as diligent as that. I think it is more likely that you have found a city that would hand out all the goods to you – but then that raises a question in my mind: what do they want in return? And who could these mysterious helpers be? I have instructed my soldiers to keep a strident watch on you and your trade supplies; they have not reported anything, and yet your supplies are reaching you. One of my army chiefs said that it was as though the route has been shrouded by a divine mist, which neither sound nor light could penetrate.

I have seen that mist before, my lady, long back in my early youth, when I served the wise sages in the icy mountains up north. I created a route for the people that live on the Meru, weaving into it a mist of this very kind. I would not be able to find it now, of course, because in these middling years they must have probed the Mystery further, and they must have added to its secrets. But I know whither it comes. It comes from that race of men we – all of North Country – must be wary of in the extreme.

I have lived among them. I know them like I know my own people. I know what lies beneath the fair masks that they wear on their faces. I know what poison lurks under their fair skins and kind smiles. I have seen it. I have tasted it.

They do not wish for the good of Gandhar. They do not wish for the good of Hastinapur. The future of North Country does not matter to them. They wish just for the good of their own people – and perhaps in that respect they are not very different to you and I – but they do so with utter disregard for the well-being of anyone that do not live on the mountains. Today they have come to raise Gandhar up to Hastinapur’s level, no doubt hoping that we will go to war. Remember, Princess Gandhari, when two men fight, the beneficiary is often a third who watches from the side.

I know not what price they will demand of you when all this has come to an end, but I’m certain it shall not be to Gandhar’s benefit. They wish war upon your land and mine; I do not know why, but I’m sure that their intentions cannot be pure. I will ask you, therefore, to think of what you must do if you are to do good to the people of Gandhar. War cannot be good for them, my lady, no matter how hotly the fire of revenge burns in your heart. Cast off your friendship with the men of the north, for they will spit you out the moment you cease to be of use to them.

I thank you for your tributes; they have arrived faultlessly on the first day of every waning cycle of the moon thus far. I only hope that you have an ear for my word of advice. Let us go back to the trading arrangement we had before this, Your Majesty, and I shall instruct my traders that they will sell you the goods at prices you desire. I am very eager – for your sake and for the sake of all kingdoms of North Country – that you must sever this tie with the Meru people.

I await your reply with great eagerness.

To Bhishma, Prince and Champion of Hastinapur, Gandhari, the Queen of Gandhar, bows with respect.

You will not deny that your previous visit to our palace pushed Gandhar into a corner. When we tried emerging from Hastinapur’s shadow by charting trade routes with other kingdoms, you prevented them. You left us with only two choices: that of continuing to trade with Hastinapur, or improve our own industries such that they rival yours. The latter we could not do in a short time, the former we chose not to do because continuing to trade with you would have bled us further. The tribute already hurts us more than you can imagine.

So when the Meru people extended their hand of friendship, I took it. You may be right; their intentions may not be pure, but whose is? Shall I trust you, who have looted us from under our noses for twenty years? Shall I trust mine, which, as you rightly said, are blinded by the need for revenge? Between the three of us, Prince, I think the intentions of the Meru people are the purest; what that says about you and me and about North Country, I know not.

I know you still hold the power of unleashing unrest on Gandhar by telling our people about the missing gold in the vaults. But despite knowing of our new trade arrangement, you have chosen to keep your silence. You perhaps fear that if riots were to break out in Gandhar, we shall no longer be able to pay your tribute, and now that I have friends from the north, your victory over my kingdom is no longer assured. I think the entry of the northmen has evened this battle a little, and now I see you look behind your back and see the approaching corner, just like the one you pushed me into, a few moons ago.

You will no doubt reject that notion, and you will say that you do not wish to see my people die – as you do not wish to see any people die – and perhaps there is truth in that too, but regardless, I must thank you for your choice. The city of Gandhar owes you a debt for keeping her out of civil unrest and riots, though it would be nothing compared to what Hastinapur owes us.

Your tributes will keep arriving, sir, of that you need have no worry. Our mines have expanded, and we have employed more miners to meet your need. But I cannot accept your offer of going back to trading with Hastinapur. As you well know, the men of Meru give me everything I need without asking anything in return, and when you are on the receiving end, gifts are much, much more desirable than trades. What they will ask for me in return as price for this is not my concern, for right now, when I need it most, they have given me their hand. I shall gladly return the favour once Gandhar begins to see better times.

Whether my turn to them will be bad for Hastinapur, I do not know. But put yourself in my place for one moment, Son of Ganga, and tell me if you would not do the same. My first duty is to my people and to my friends. Doubtless that the price they extract from me will somehow plunge into Hastinapur’s spine, but that is none of my concern. They have done me good, and my father always said that of all great traits kings are said to possess, loyalty is the most precious.

The harvest festival is but a moon away, and Gandhar is abuzz with its preparations. We have a midsummer feast three moons after that, and we would like it if you could grace us with your presence for that occasion and partake of food at the same table as me and my brother, Shakuni.

I trust you understand my disagreement with you, my lord. May the gods bless Hastinapur.

ELEVEN

T
hroughout that winter, Gandhar’s air had carried a scent of lemon and a hint of fog. Even during middays, with the afternoon son beating down and the dry wind blowing against the glowing fires at the entrance of the mines, Gandhari could see dusty grey wisps flutter and dance forever in her peripheral vision, always vanishing when she focused her eyes. The nights had been chillier than usual, but the mines had stayed open. Ever since Kubera’s first visit to Gandhar six moons ago, the mines had stayed open throughout the night, and a file of men always seemed to either go in or out. The ones going in wore clear clothes and had a spring in their step; the ones coming out were washed in fine brown dust. She had heard once that miners took great care of the dust on their clothes, that after reaching home, they soaked their clothes in warm water in the hope that some grains of gold would have accidentally stuck to the fabric. She did not know if the tale was true, but when she narrated it to Shakuni he had laughed and said there was too less gold present in the earth to go around sticking to people’s clothes. She had not known what to make of that.

‘By the end of spring, my lady,’ said Adbudha, causing her to look away from the window at the gathering in front of her, ‘we shall have all the gold that you asked for at midsummer.’

Out of habit her eyes sought Kubera’s. On the first morning of every month since the mines had opened, Kubera had come to Gandhar and watched over the accounts kept by the noblemen at court. Of matters regarding Gandhar’s gold, he now knew better than she did.

His black lips spread in a smile, and the gold pendant on his chest gleamed in the fading light of the evening. He said to Chyavatana, ‘And the army?’

‘That will take slightly longer, my lord,’ replied Chyavatana. ‘I would think by midsummer we shall have all the elephants and footmen ready for battle.’

‘That will be how many elephants?’

‘Three hundred and forty-three, sir, to be precise, along with four hundred footmen.’

Kubera turned to Gandhari. ‘Our army will be ready too, by then; a hundred white elephants, fifty-six cavalrymen, forty archers and forty footmen.’

She raised her brow at him. ‘That does not sound like much of an army to me, sir.’

‘It does not, no. But their armours are tough, my lady, and their weapons are forged by Meru’s best blacksmiths. Rest assured that they shall last at least as long as your army does.’

Shakuni scratched his chin and said, ‘But we have not accumulated enough gold. Hastinapur has stolen four thousand
tulas
, and they have received a thousand in tribute this year. We have so far only mined two thousand. What about the remaining three?’

‘We do not need to mine it, Prince,’ said Kubera, and Gandhari warmed at the way he said ‘we’, as though he was one of them. The three men had at first regarded him with suspicion, but now even Shakuni spoke to him without that unkind tone of voice that he used when speaking to people that he disliked. ‘The fear of Hastinapur awakening unrest in people is now no longer present. If they say that the vaults are empty, we will show them that they are, in fact, full.’

‘But not all of our vaults are full.’

‘And we shall not show them the empty ones. Half of our vaults are full of gold, now. So if any of the people doubt that we do not have the gold we say we do, let them come and claim to see it. We will take them to one of our full vaults.’

‘Ah,’ said Shakuni, breaking into a half-grin, ‘like they did it with us.’

‘Yes,’ said Kubera. ‘But they had only one full vault. We have many, almost eight.’

‘So now we begin to plan on how to bring back our gold from those robbers!’

Gandhari said, ‘Do not agitate yourself, brother. The Kuru army is a strong one; they shall not surrender as easily as that.’