‘Brahaspati was a fool!’ said Bhrigu, his voice rising. ‘Even worse, maybe he was a traitor to the cause.’

Daksha kept quiet. As always, he was afraid of Bhrigu’s temper.

Bhrigu calmed down. ‘I can’t believe I even considered giving my disciple Tara to him in marriage. The poor girl’s life would have been destroyed.’

‘Where is Tara, Your Highness? I hope she is safe and happy.’

‘She is safe. I have kept her in the land of Lord Rudra. Some of them remain true to me. As for happiness...,’ Bhrigu shook his head wearily.

‘She still loves him?’

‘Stupidly so. Even though he is no more.’

‘No point in talking about Brahaspati,’ said Daksha. ‘Thank you so much for your permission, My Lord. From the deepest corner of my heart, thank you.’

Bhrigu nodded, bending lower and whispering, ‘Remain careful, Your Highness. The war is not over. Don’t think that you are the only one who can use the Neelkanth.’

Chapter 7

Birth Pangs

Shiva stood at the edge of the Dasashwamedh Ghat in a royal enclosure. On his side stood Their Highnesses Dilipa and Athithigva, with other key members of the nobility behind them. The citizens of Kashi stood away from the enclosure. They were not over excited. They had got used to the constant attention that came the way of their city since the Neelkanth had made it his temporary home.

It was a busy day for Kashi’s diplomatic staff. Dilipa had arrived just that morning. The standard protocols for the Emperor of Swadweep had been followed, right down to the single white flag at the royal enclosure with the Chandravanshi crescent moon darned on it. Now, they were waiting for Daksha, the Emperor of India.

The protocol had been tricky. But they had finally decided to have a red Suryavanshi flag placed at the highest point of the enclosure. After all, the Lord Neelkanth had declared Daksha the Emperor of all of India. Bowing to the sensitivities of Dilipa, Kashi protocol officers had also placed a Chandravanshi flag in the enclosure at a slightly lower height as compared to the Suryavanshi flag.

Shiva, of course, did not really care about the ceremonies. He was more interested in the workers busy at the temporary shipyard across the river, where the Brangas, led by Divodas himself, had been furiously working away for the last three months. Given the superstition about not living on the eastern side of the Ganga’s meander, it was naturally the safest place for the Brangas to do their job. They had been constructing special ships that could sail through the great Gates of Branga, massive barriers across the main river access to their land. Shiva couldn’t imagine how barricades could be built in a river as broad as the Ganga. But Divodas had said that these special ships would be required. Shiva remembered telling a sceptical Athithigva, who had opposed this move of the Brangas: ‘Just because you can’t imagine it, doesn’t mean it doesn’t exist.’ But Athithigva had refused the usage of the royal palace and grounds on the eastern bank as a shipyard. So the Brangas worked on a dangerous, recently dried stretch of the riverbank.

Divodas had begun work the very next day after promising the Neelkanth that he would accompany him to Branga.

Divodas has been true to his word. He is a good man.

The sound of Daksha’s ship finally docking at the ghat brought Shiva back from his thoughts. He saw the rope pulley lowering the walkway. Daksha, without caring for royal protocol, immediately bounded onto the walkway and almost ran to Shiva. He bowed low and spoke breathlessly. ‘Is it a boy, My Lord?’

Shiva stood up to welcome the Emperor of India, did a formal namaste and spoke with a smile. ‘We still don’t know Your Highness. She is not due till tomorrow.’

‘Oh wonderful. I have not been late then! I was very scared that I would miss this joyous day.’

Shiva laughed out loud. It was difficult to say who was more excited — the father or the grandfather!

‘Such a delight to meet you again, Purvakaji,’ said Shiva, rising from his chair and bending down to touch the blind man’s feet. The suffix ji was a form of respect.

Purvaka, Drapaku’s blind father, was the same Vikarma whose blessings Shiva had sought at Kotdwaar in Meluha a few years ago. Kotdwaar residents had been stunned by the Neelkanth’s public rejection of the Vikarma law. Leave alone finding the touch of a Vikarma polluting, Shiva had actually sought to be blessed by one.

Purvaka had come along in Emperor Daksha’s convoy to Kashi. He immediately stepped back, as though sensing what Shiva was about to do. ‘No, My Lord. You are the Neelkanth. How can I allow you to touch my feet?’

‘Why not, Purvakaji?’ asked Shiva

‘But My Lord, how can you touch my father’s feet?’ said Drapaku. ‘You are the Mahadev.’

‘Isn’t it my choice as to whose feet I touch?’ asked Shiva.

Turning back to Purvaka, Shiva continued, ‘You are elder to me. You cannot deny me the right to seek your blessings. So please do so quickly. My back is hurting from bending for so long.’

Purvaka laughed, placing his hand on Shiva’s head. ‘Nobody can refuse you, great one. Ayushman bhav.’

Shiva rose, satisfied with the blessing for a long life. ‘So you intend to spend your time with your son now?’

‘Yes, My Lord.’

‘But we would be going on a dangerous voyage. Are you sure?’

‘I was a warrior too once, My Lord. I still have the strength. I can kill any Naga who stands in front of me!’

Shiva smiled, turning towards Drapaku, his eyebrows raised. Drapaku smiled back, signalling with his hand that he would protect his father.

‘My boy, don’t think I cannot sense what you are saying,’ said Purvaka. ‘I may be blind, but you learnt to wield the sword holding my hands. I will protect myself. And, you as well.’

Both Shiva and Drapaku burst out laughing. Shiva was delighted to see that the diffident Purvaka he had met at Kotdwaar, a man who had suppressed his natural valour in a defeatist manner against the assaults of fate, was rediscovering his old fire.

‘Forget about your son,’ said Shiva, ‘I would be delighted to have you as my bodyguard!’

‘I am scared, Shiva.’

Sati was sitting on her bed in their chamber. Shiva had just entered the room with a plateful of food. Much to the horror of the royal cook, the Neelkanth had insisted on cooking for his wife himself.

Pretending to be hurt, Shiva said, ‘My cooking isn’t that bad!’

Sati burst out laughing. ‘That’s not what I meant!’

Shiva came closer and smiled. Setting the plate aside on the table, he caressed her face. ‘I know. I have insisted on Ayurvati overseeing the delivery. She is the best doctor in the world. Nothing will go wrong.’

‘But what if this child too is stillborn? What if my past life’s sins affect our poor child?’

‘There are no past life sins, Sati! There is only this life. That is the only reality. Everything else is a theory. Believe the theory that gives you peace and reject the one that causes you pain. Why believe in a theory if it causes you unhappiness? You have done all you can to take care of your child and yourself. Now have faith.’

Sati kept quiet, her eyes still mirroring the foreboding she felt inside.

Shiva ran his hand along Sati’s face again. ‘My darling, trust me. Your worrying is not going to help. Just think positive and happy thoughts. That is the best you can do for our child. And leave the rest to fate. In any case, fate has ensured that you will lose your bet tomorrow.’