‘But, Your Highness,’ said Shiva with polite firmness, shifting his bandaged shoulder slightly to relieve the soreness. ‘I don’t think they are evil. I understand now that my mission is different.’

Dilipa, sitting to the left of Daksha, was thrilled. Shiva’s words were a balm to his soul. Sati and Parvateshwar, to Shiva’s right, were quiet. Nandi and Veerbhadra stood further away, on guard but listening in avidly. The only one as angry as Daksha was Bhagirath, the crown prince of Ayodhya.

‘We don’t need a certificate from a foreign barbarian to tell us what is obvious! We are not evil!’ said Bhagirath.

‘Quiet,’ hissed Dilipa. ‘You will not insult the Neelkanth.’

Turning towards Shiva with folded hands, Dilipa continued, ‘Forgive my impetuous son, My Lord. He speaks before he thinks. You said your mission is different. How can Ayodhya help?’

Shiva stared at a visibly chafing Bhagirath before turning towards Dilipa. ‘How do I find the Nagas?’

Startled and scared, Dilipa touched his Rudra pendant for protection as Daksha looked up sharply.

‘My Lord, they are pure evil,’ said Daksha. ‘Why do you want to find them?’

‘You have answered your own question, Your Highness,’ said Shiva. He turned towards Dilipa. ‘I don’t believe you are allied with the Nagas. But there are some in your empire who are. I want to know how to reach those people.’

‘My Lord,’ said Dilipa, swallowing hard. ‘It is rumoured that the King of Branga consorts with the dark forces. He would be able to answer your questions. But the entry of any foreign person, including us, is banned in that strange but very rich kingdom. Sometimes, I actually think the Brangas pay tribute to my empire only to keep us from entering their land, not because they are scared of being defeated by us in battle.’

‘You have another king in your empire? How is that possible?’ asked a surprised Shiva.

‘We aren’t like the obsessive Suryavanshis. We don’t insist on everyone following one single law. Every kingdom has the right to its own king, its own rules and its own way of life. They pay Ayodhya a tribute because we defeated them in battle through the great Ashwamedh yagna.’

‘Horse sacrifice?’

‘Yes, My Lord,’ continued Dilipa. ‘The sacrificial horse travels freely through any kingdom in the land. If a king stops the horse, we battle, defeat and annexe that territory. If they don’t stop the horse, then the kingdom becomes our colony and pays us tribute, but is still allowed to have its own laws. So we are more like a confederacy of aligned kings rather than a fanatical empire like Meluha.’

‘Mind your words, you impudent fool,’ ranted Daksha. ‘Your confederacy seems a lot like extortion to me. They pay you tribute because if they don’t, you will attack their lands and plunder them. Where is the Royal Dharma in that? In Meluha, being an emperor does not just give you the right to receive tribute, but it also confers the responsibility to work for the good of all the empire’s subjects.’

‘And who decides what is good for your subjects? You? By what right? People should be allowed to do whatever they wish.’

‘Then there will be chaos,’ shouted Daksha. ‘Your stupidity is even more apparent than your immoral values!’

‘Enough!’ asserted Shiva, struggling to tame his irritation. ‘Will both your Highnesses please desist?’

Daksha looked at Shiva in surprised anger. Seeing a much more confident Shiva, not just accepting, but living his role as the Neelkanth. Daksha’s heart sank. He knew that fulfilling his father’s dream of a member of their family being Emperor of all India, and bringing the Suryavanshi way of life to all its citizens, was becoming increasingly remote. He could defeat the Swadweepans in battle due to his army’s superior tactics and technology, but he did not have enough soldiers to control the conquered land. For that, he needed the faith that the Swadweepans had in the Neelkanth. If the Neelkanth didn’t go along with his way of thinking, his plans were bound to fail.

‘Why do you say that the Brangas are allied with the Nagas?’ asked Shiva.

‘I can’t say for sure, My Lord,’ said Dilipa. ‘But I am going on the rumours that one has heard from traders in Kashi. It is the only kingdom in Swadweep that the Brangas deign to trade with. Furthermore, there are many refugees from Branga settled in Kashi.’

‘Refugees?’ asked Shiva. ‘What are they fleeing from? You said Branga was a rich land.’

‘There are rumours of a great plague that has struck Branga repeatedly. But I’m not quite certain. Very few people can be certain about what goes on in Branga! But the King of Kashi would certainly have better answers. Should I summon him here, My Lord?’

‘No,’ said Shiva, unsure whether this was another wild goose chase or whether the Brangas actually had something to do with the Nagas.

Sati suddenly piped up as a thought struck her and turned towards Dilipa. Her voice was nasal due to the bandage on her nose. ‘Forgive me, Your Highness. But where exactly is Branga?’

‘It is far to the East, Princess Sati, where our revered river Ganga meets their holy river which comes in from the northeast, Brahmaputra.’

Shiva started as he realised something. He turned to Sati, smiling. Sati smiled back.

They aren’t lines! They are rivers!

Shiva reached into his pouch and pulled out the coin he had recovered from the Naga and showed it to Dilipa. ‘Is this a Branga coin, Your Highness?’

‘Yes, My Lord!’ answered a surprised Dilipa. ‘That is King Chandraketu on one side and a river map of their land on the other. But these coins are rare. The Brangas never send tribute in coins, only in gold ingots.’

Dilipa was about to ask where Shiva got the coin from, but was cut off by the Neelkanth.

‘How quickly can we leave for Kashi?’

‘Mmmm, this is good,’ smiled Shiva, handing the chillum to Veerbhadra.

‘I know,’ smiled Veerbhadra. ‘The grass is much better here than in Meluha. The Chandravanshis certainly know how to savour the finer things in life.’

Shiva smiled. The marijuana was working its magic on him. The two friends were on a small hill outside Ayodhya, enjoying the evening breeze. The view was stunning.

The gentle slope of the grassy hill descended into a sparsely forested plain, which ended in a sheer cliff at a far distance. The tempestuous Sarayu, which had cut through the cliff over many millennia, flowed down south, rumbling passionately. The sun setting gently beyond the horizon completed the dramatic beauty of the tranquil moment.

‘I guess the Emperor of Meluha is finally happy,’ smiled Veerbhadra, handing the chillum back to Shiva.

Shiva winked at Veerbhadra before taking a deep drag. He knew Daksha was unhappy about his changed stance on the Chandravanshis. And as he himself did not want any distractions while searching for the Nagas, he had hit upon an ingenious compromise to give Daksha a sense of victory and yet keep Dilipa happy as well.

Shiva had decreed that Daksha would henceforth be known as Emperor of India. His name would not only be taken first during prayers at the royal court at Devagiri, but also at Ayodhya. Dilipa, in turn, would be known as Emperor of Swadweep within the Chandravanshi areas, and the ‘brother of the Emperor’ in Meluha. His name would be taken after Daksha’s in court prayers in both Devagiri and Ayodhya. Dilipa’s kingdom would pay a nominal tribute of a hundred thousand gold coins to Meluha, which Daksha had pronounced would be donated to the Ramjanmabhoomi temple in Ayodhya.