‘It’s a massive port, Purvaka ji,’ said Shiva.

‘I can sense it, My Lord,’ smiled Purvaka. ‘I think these Brangas may probably have the capability to be as efficient as the Meluhans.’

‘I don’t think they care about efficiency, father,’ said Drapaku. ‘I sense that the bigger challenge for them is to simply stay alive.’

Just then a short, rotund Branga man, wearing an impossibly large array of gold jewellery, came rushing down the steps. He saw Parvateshwar and went down on his knees, bringing his head down to his feet. ‘My Lord, you have come! You have come! We are saved!’

Parvateshwar bent down to pick up the man sternly. ‘I am not the Neelkanth.’

The Branga man looked up, confused.

Parvateshwar pointed towards Shiva. ‘Bow down to the true Lord.’

The man rushed towards Shiva’s feet. ‘My apologies, My Lord. Please don’t punish Branga for my terrible mistake.’

‘Get up, my friend,’ smiled Shiva. ‘How could you recognise me when you had never seen me before?’

The Branga stood up, tears flooding his eyes. ‘Such humility, despite so much power. It could only be you, the great Mahadev.’

‘Don’t embarrass me. What is your name?’

‘I am Bappiraj, Prime Minister of Branga, My Lord. We have set up the welcoming party for you at ground level, where King Chandraketu awaits.’

‘Please take me to your king.’

Bappiraj proudly climbed the last step to the ground level, followed by Shiva. Bhagirath, Parvateshwar, Anandmayi, Ayurvati, Divodas, Drapaku, Purvaka, Nandi and Veerbhadra followed.

As soon as Shiva ascended, loud conch shells were blown by a posse of pandits. A large herd of elephants, decked in fine gold ornaments, standing a little further away, trumpeted loud enough to startle Purvaka. The splendidly-carved stone pavilion at the ground level had been sheathed in gold plates to honour the Mahadev. It seemed as though almost the entire population — 400,000 citizens — of Brangaridai had gathered to receive the Neelkanth. At the head was the poignant figure of King Chandraketu.

He was a man of medium height, with a bronzed complexion, high cheekbones and doe-eyes. King Chandraketu’s black hair was long like most Indians and had been neatly oiled and curled. He didn’t have the muscular physique one expected of a Kshatriya. His lanky frame was clothed in a simple cream dhoti and angvastram. Despite ruling a kingdom with legendary hordes of gold and fabulous wealth, Chandraketu did not have a smidgeon of gold on his body. His eyes had the look of a defeated man, struggling against fate.

Chandraketu went down on his knees, his head touching the ground and his hands spread forward, as did every other Branga present.

‘Ayushman bhav, Your Highness,’ said Shiva, blessing King Chandraketu with a long life.

Chandraketu looked up, still on his knees, his hands folded in a namaste, copious tears rolling down his eyes. ‘I know I will live long now, My Lord. And so will every Branga. For you have come!’

‘We must stop this senseless war,’ said Vasuki, looking around the Naga Rajya Sabha. Many heads nodded in agreement. He was the descendant of one of the celebrated kings of the Nagas in the past. His lineage earned him respect.

‘But the war is over,’ said the Queen. ‘Mount Mandar has been destroyed. The secret is with us.’

‘Then why are we sending the medicine to the Brangas?’ asked Nishad. ‘We don’t need them anymore. Helping them only gives reasons to our enemies to keep hostilities alive.’

‘Is that how Nagas will work from now on?’ asked the Queen. ‘Abandoning a friend when not needed?’

Suparna, whose face seemed to resemble that of a bird, spoke up. ‘I agree with the Queen. The Brangas were and are our allies. They are the only ones who supported us. We must help them.’

‘But we are Nagas,’ said Astik. ‘We have been punished for the sins of our previous births. We must accept our fate and live out our lives in penance. And we should advice the same to the Brangas.’

The Queen bit her lip. Karkotak looked at her intensely. He knew his Queen hated this defeatist attitude. But he also knew what Astik said was the majority opinion.

‘I agree,’ said Iravat, before looking at Suparna. ‘And I wouldn’t expect the people of Garuda to understand that. They are hungry for war all the time.’

That comment hurt. The people of Garuda, or Nagas with the face of birds, had been the enemies of the rest of the Nagas for long. They used to live in the fabled city of Nagapur, far to the east of Panchavati, but still within the Dandak forest. The great Lord of the People had brokered peace many years back and Suparna, their present leader, had joined the Rajya Sabha as a trusted aide of the Queen. Her people now lived in Panchavati.

The Queen spoke firmly. ‘That is uncalled for, Lord Iravat. Please don’t forget Lady Suparna has brought the people of Garuda into the joint Naga family. We are all siblings now. Anyone who insults Lady Suparna shall incur my wrath.’

Iravat immediately backtracked. The Queen’s anger was legendary.

Karkotak looked around with concern. Iravat had withdrawn but the discussion was going nowhere. Would they be able to continue sending the medicines to the Brangas as the Queen had promised? He looked at the Lord of the People, who rose to speak.

‘Lords and Ladies of the Sabha, please excuse me for the impertinence of speaking amongst you.’

Everybody turned to the Lord of the People. While he was the youngest member of the Rajya Sabha, he was also the most respected.

‘We are looking at this the wrong way. This is not about the war or our allies. This is about being true to the principles of Bhoomidevi.’

Everybody frowned. Bhoomidevi, a mysterious non-Naga lady who had come from the North in the ancient past and established the present way of life of the Nagas, was respected and honoured as a goddess. To question Bhoomidevi’s principles was sacrilegious.

‘One of her clear guidelines was that a Naga must repay in turn for everything that he receives. This is the only way to clear our karma of sins.’

Most Rajya Sabha members frowned. They didn’t understand where the Lord of the People was going with this. The Queen, Karkotak and Suparna, however, smiled softly.

‘I would encourage you to look inside your pouches and see how many gold coins in there have the stamp of King Chandraketu. At least three quarters of the gold in our kingdom has come from Branga. They have sent it as allied support. But let us recognise it for what it really is: Advance payment for the medicine.’

The Queen smiled at her nephew. It was his idea to tell King Chandraketu not to send plain gold ingots but coins bearing his stamp, to remind the Nagas of what they received from the Brangas.

‘By my simple calculations, we have received enough gold to supply medicines for the next thirty years. If we are to honour Bhoomidevi’s principles, I say we have no choice but to keep supplying the medicines to them.’

The Rajya Sabha had no choice. How could they question Bhoomidevi’s guidelines?

The motion was passed.

‘My Lord, how do we stop the plague?’ asked Chandraketu.

Shiva, Chandraketu, Bhagirath, Parvateshwar, Divodas and Bappiraj were in the king’s private chambers in the Brangaridai palace.