‘Actually, this is your city, My Lord,’ said Athithigva with a low bow.

Shiva frowned.

‘Lord Rudra had spent most of his time in Kashi, calling it his adopted home,’ explained Athithigva. ‘After his departure to his birth land to the West, the Kashi royal family conducted a puja at Assi Ghat, effectively making Lord Rudra and his successors our true kings for eternity. My family, while being different from the royal family that conducted that puja, honours the promise to this day. We only function as the caretakers of the birthright of Lord Rudra’s successors.’

Shiva was getting increasingly uncomfortable.

‘Now that Lord Rudra’s successor is here, it is time for him to ascend the throne of Kashi,’ continued Athithigva. ‘It will be my honour to serve you, My Lord.’

Shiva almost choked on a combination of surprise and exasperation.

These people are all mad! Well intentioned, but mad!

‘I have no intentions of becoming a King, Your Highness,’ smiled Shiva. ‘I certainly don’t think of myself as worthy of being called Lord Rudra’s successor. You are a good king and I suggest you continue to serve your people.’

‘But, My Lord...’

‘I have a few requests though, Your Highness,’ interrupted Shiva. He did not want to continue the discussion on his royal antecedents.

‘Anything, My Lord.’

‘Firstly, my wife and I would like our child to be born here. May we impose on your hospitality for this duration?’

‘My Lord, my entire palace is yours. Lady Sati and you can stay here for all time to come.’

Shiva smiled slightly. ‘No, I don’t think we will stay that long. Also, I want to meet the leader of the Brangas in your city.’

‘His name is Divodas, My Lord. I will certainly summon him to your presence. Speaking to anyone else from that unfortunate tribe is useless. Divodas is the only one sensible or capable enough to interact with others. I believe he is out on a trading trip and should be returning by tonight. I’ll ensure that he is called here at the earliest.’

‘Wonderful.’

‘The crowd out there looks like it is slipping out of control, Drapaku,’ pointed Parvateshwar.

Parvateshwar was with Bhagirath, Drapaku and Tratya, the Kashi police chief, upon a raised platform on the Sacred Avenue. It almost seemed like all of Kashi’s 200,000 citizens had descended there to catch a glimpse of the Neelkanth. And the Kashi police appeared woefully ill-trained to manage the crowd. They were polite to a fault, which usually worked with the courteous Kashi citizens. But on an occasion like this, when every person was desperate to jump up front and touch the Lord, the firm hand of the Suryavanshis was called for.

‘I’ll take care of it, General,’ said Drapaku as he bounded off the platform to issue instructions to Nandi waiting at the bottom.

‘But he must not raise his hand,’ said Tratya.

‘He’ll behave as required by the situation, Tratya,’ said Parvateshwar, irritated.

Nandi, on hearing Drapaku’s orders, was off with his platoon. Drapaku, using the hook on his amputated left hand, pulled himself back onto the platform with surprising agility.

‘It’s done, General,’ said Drapaku. ‘That crowd will be pushed back.’

Parvateshwar nodded and turned to look at Shiva and his party. Shiva, holding Sati’s hand, walked slowly with a broad smile, acknowledging almost every single person who screamed out his name. Krittika, Sati’s companion, paced slightly behind Sati while Athithigva, beaming with the commitment of a true devotee, marched silently, with his family and ministers in tow.

‘Chief Tratya,’ shouted a panicked Kashi policeman bounding up the platform.

Tratya looked down. ‘Yes, Kaavas?’

‘A riot is breaking out in the Branga quarter!’

‘Tell me exactly what happened.’

‘They have killed a peacock once again. But this time they were caught red-handed by some of their neighbours, who are swearing retribution for this sin.’

‘I’m not surprised! I don’t know why His Highness insists on keeping those uncivilised dolts in our city. It was only a matter of time before some citizens lost their patience and did something.’

‘What happened?’ asked Parvateshwar.

‘It’s the Brangas. They know that killing peacocks is banned in Kashi as they were Lord Rudra’s favourite amongst the birds. There is a widespread belief that they sacrifice the bird in some bizarre ceremonies in their colony. Now they have been caught red-handed and are going to be taught a lesson.’

‘Why don’t you send some of your men there to break up the riot?’

Tratya looked at Parvateshwar strangely. ‘You won’t understand some things. We accept every community from India in Kashi. All of them live peacefully, making this great city their home. But the Brangas purposely want to infuriate every one of us. This riot is actually a bad path to a good end. Just let it happen.’

Parvateshwar was shocked at the words of the same police chief who had been propagating the virtues of non-violence just a while back. ‘If they have committed a crime, they should be punished by your courts. Your citizens do not have the right to riot and hurt innocent people who may have had nothing to do with the killing of the bird.’

‘It doesn’t matter if some of them were innocent. It’s a small price to pay if it rids the city of the Brangas and their evil ways. I cannot and will not do anything on this.’

‘If you won’t do anything, I will,’ warned Parvateshwar.

Tratya looked at Parvateshwar in exasperation and turned back to look at the Neelkanth’s entourage. Parvateshwar stared hard at Tratya. It took only a moment for him to make up his mind.

‘Drapaku, you have the command,’ said Parvateshwar. ‘Make sure the crowd breaks as soon as the Lord is in the Vishwanath temple. Prince Bhagirath, will you accompany me? I would need some help as I don’t know Chandravanshi customs.’

‘It will be my honour, General,’ said Bhagirath.

‘This is not your job,’ said Tratya, raising his voice for the first time in the day. ‘You have no right to interfere in our internal affairs.’

‘He has every right,’ interjected Bhagirath, with the arrogance that only a royal can possess. ‘Have you forgotten Lord Ram’s words? Standing by and doing nothing while a sin is committed is as bad as committing the sin yourself. You should be thanking the General for doing your job.’

Parvateshwar and Bhagirath quickly stepped down from the platform along with Kaavas, ordered Veerbhadra to follow them with a hundred men and rushed towards the Branga quarters.

‘This is tough and tricky,’ said Bhagirath.

They were in front of the Branga quarters. The legendary hoards of gold brought in by the refugees from the East had transformed this particularly congested part of the city into spacious residences. Brangas lived in a lavishly designed and intricately carved multi-storey building, the tallest in all of Kashi, save for the Vishwanath temple and the royal palaces. The building was surrounded on all sides by a large garden, strangely enough both lusciously landscaped and conservatively symmetrical, much like the one at the Narsimha temple in Magadh. A board at its entrance proudly proclaimed the loyalty of its residents: ‘May Lord Rudra bless the most divine land of Branga.’