‘I’m sorry Major. I meant no disrespect.’

‘I can’t let you go back unless you give me a good reason.’

‘Why would I need a reason to enter my own country?’

‘This is not your country anymore. You chose to abandon it. Kashi is your land. Go back there.’

‘Major Uma, you know I had no choice. You know the risks to the life of my child in Branga.’

‘You think those who live in Branga don’t? You think we don’t love our children? Yet we choose to live in our own land. You suffer the consequences of your choice.’

Divodas realised this was getting nowhere. ‘I have to meet the King on a matter of national importance.’

Uma narrowed her eyes. ‘Really? I guess the King has some important business dealings with Kashi, right?’

Divodas breathed in deeply. ‘Major Uma, it is very important that I meet the King. You must trust me.’

‘Unless you are carrying the Queen of the Nagas herself on one of your ships, I can’t see anything important enough to let you through!’

‘I’m carrying someone far more important than the Queen of the Nagas.’

‘Kashi has really improved your sense of humour, Divodas,’ sneered Uma. ‘I suggest you turn back and shine your supreme light somewhere else.’

The snide pun on Kashi’s name convinced Divodas that he was facing a changed Uma. An angry and bitter Uma, incapable of listening to reason. He had no choice. He had to get the Neelkanth. He knew Uma used to believe in the legend.

‘I’ll come back with the person who is more important than the Queen of the Nagas herself,’ said Divodas, turning to leave.

The small cutter had just docked at the Branga office. Divodas alit first. Followed by Shiva, Parvateshwar, Bhagirath, Drapaku and Purvaka.

Uma, standing outside her office, sighed. ‘You really don’t give up, do you?’

‘This is very important, Major Uma,’ said Divodas.

Uma recognised Bhagirath. ‘Is this the person? You think I should break the rules for the Prince of Ayodhya?’

‘He is the Prince of Swadweep, Major Uma. Don’t forget that. We send tribute to Ayodhya.’

‘So you are more loyal to Ayodhya as well now? How many times will you abandon Branga?’

‘Major, in the name of Ayodhya, I respectfully ask you to let us pass,’ said Bhagirath, trying hard not to lose his temper. He knew the Neelkanth did not want any bloodshed.

‘Our terms of the Ashwamedh treaty were very clear, Prince. We send you a tribute annually. And Ayodhya never enters Branga. We have maintained our part of the agreement. The orders to me are to help you maintain your part of the bargain.’

Shiva stepped forward. ‘If I may...’

Uma was at the end of her patience. She stepped forward and pushed Shiva. ‘Get out of here.’

‘UMA!’ Divodas pulled out his sword.

Bhagirath, Parvateshwar, Drapaku and Purvaka too drew out their swords instantly.

‘I will kill your entire family for this blasphemy,’ swore Drapaku.

‘Wait!’ said Shiva, his arms spread wide, stopping his men.

Shiva turned towards Uma. She was staring at him, shocked. The angvastram that he had wrapped around his body for warmth had come undone, revealing his neel kanth, the prophesied blue throat. The Branga soldiers around Uma immediately went down on their knees, heads bowed in respect, tears flooding their eyes. Uma continued to stare, her mouth half open.

Shiva cleared his throat. ‘I really need to pass through, Major Uma. May I request your cooperation?’

Uma’s face turned mottled red. ‘Where the hell have you been?’

Shiva frowned.

Uma bent forward, tears in her eyes, banging her small fists on Shiva’s well-honed chest. ‘Where the hell have you been? We have been waiting! We have been suffering! Where the hell have you been?’

Shiva tried to hold Uma, to comfort her. But she sank down holding Shiva’s leg, wailing. ‘Where the hell have you been?’

A concerned Divodas turned to another Branga friend also posted at the border. His friend whispered, ‘Last month, Major Uma lost her only child to the plague. Her husband and she had conceived after years of trying. She was devastated.’

Divodas looked at Uma with empathy, understanding her angst. He couldn’t even begin to imagine what would happen to him if he lost his baby.

Shiva, who had heard the entire conversation, squatted. He cradled Uma in the shelter of his arms, as though trying to give her his strength.

‘Why didn’t you come earlier?’ Uma kept crying, inconsolable.

Chapter 11

The Mystery of the
Eastern Palace

Sati was resting on the sandbank in the middle of the Ganga. She kept low to avoid being seen from the Eastern palace. Her brown clothes, an effective camouflage.

She kept her breathing steady, rejuvenating her tired muscles. Reaching back, she again checked the hold on her sword and shield. It was secure on her back. She didn’t want it slipping out into the Ganga, leaving her defenceless when she entered the palace.

Reaching to her side, she pulled out a small pouch. She ate the fruit inside quickly. Once done, she tucked the empty pouch back. Then slipped quietly back into the Ganga.

A little while later Sati crept gradually onto the eastern banks. Far from the well guarded ghats of the palace, where the King’s boats had been anchored, was a concealed drain. It was impossible to see from anywhere in Kashi or the Ganga. But the elevation of the palace that was Sati’s quarters for the duration of her visit to the city, the only building of that height in Kashi, allowed her to chance upon it. She crept slowly into the foliage, suspecting the channel was behind it.

She quietly slipped into the drain, swimming with powerful strokes towards the palace. The drain was surprisingly clean. Not too many people in the palace perhaps. Closer to the palace wall, the drain disappeared underground. Sati dived underwater. Metal bars protected the drain opening near the palace premises. Sati pulled out a file from her pouch and started cutting away at the bar. She only went up for air when her lungs started burning for oxygen. She dived back and continued filing the rusty, old metal bars. With only five trips up for air, Sati was able to cut through two of the rods, space enough for her to slip through.

Sati emerged along the western wall of the palace to find herself in a breathtaking garden. The area was completely deserted. Perhaps nobody expected an intruder from this end. While the ground was covered with lush green grass, flowers and trees appeared to have been allowed to go wild, giving the garden the appearance of a barely restrained forest. Picturesque and natural.

Sati hurried through the garden, careful not to step on any dried twigs. She reached a side entrance and walked in.

The eeriness of the palace was starting to get her. There was no sound. No servants toiling away. No sounds of royalty making merry. No sounds of birds in the garden. Nothing. It was like she had stepped into a vacuum.

She hurried through the corridors. Not finding anyone to obstruct or challenge her, she went through the luxurious palace, which looked like it had never been lived in!

Suddenly she heard the soft sounds of laughter. She crept in that direction.

The corridor opened into the main courtyard. Sati hid behind a pillar. She could see King Athithigva sitting in the centre on a throne. Standing next to him were his wife and son. Three ancient-looking attendants, who Sati had never seen before, stood next to them, holding puja thalis with all the necessary accoutrements for a rakhi ceremony, including the sacred thread itself.