Ganesh nodded. ‘That is a good idea.’

‘Thank the Lord, I didn’t do anything rash that I would have regretted later,’ said Sati.

Shiva was sitting on a long chair in the balcony of their chambers. Sati was on his lap, her head leaning against his muscular chest, her eyes swollen red. From the heights of the Kashi palace, the Sacred Avenue and the Vishwanath temple were clearly visible. Beyond them flowed the mighty Ganga.

‘Your anger was justified, my darling.’

Sati looked up at her husband, breathing slowly. ‘Aren’t you angry? He actually tried to kill you.’

Shiva stared into his wife’s eyes as he ran his hand across her face. ‘My anger towards your father is because of what he did to you, not what he tried to do to me.’

‘But how dare Vidyunmali draw his sword upon you?’ whispered Sati. ‘Thank God, Ganesh...’

Sati stopped, afraid that her taking Ganesh’s name would ruin this moment.

Shiva gave her a gentle squeeze. ‘He’s your son.’

Sati kept quiet, body stiff, feeling the intense pain that Shiva felt at Brahaspati’s loss.

Shiva held Sati’s face and looked straight into her eyes. ‘No matter how hard I try, I cannot hate a part of your soul.’

Sati sighed as fresh tears escaped silently from her eyes. She held Shiva tight. Shiva did not want to spoil the moment as he held onto his wife. One thing continued to puzzle him. Who’s Bhrigu?

‘The Emperor had got Chandandhwaj killed?’ asked a shocked Parvateshwar.

‘Yes, General,’ said Veerbhadra.

Parvateshwar, numb with shock, looked at Anandmayi and Bhagirath. Then back at Veerbhadra. ‘Where is His Highness now?’

‘He’s on his way back to Meluha, My Lord,’ said Veerbhadra.

Parvateshwar held his head. His Emperor had brought dishonour to Meluha, his motherland. He couldn’t even imagine the pain this revelation must have caused to the woman he had always looked upon as the daughter he had never had. ‘Where is Sati?’

‘She’s with Shiva, My Lord.’

Anandmayi looked at Parvateshwar with a smile. At least some good had come out of this sordid episode.

The Meluhan royal ship cruised slowly up the Ganga, four ships sailing around it in the standard Suryavanshi defensive naval protocol. Daksha’s entourage was on its way home, a day away from Kashi.

Mayashrenik was in the lead boat, maintaining a steady pace. He was still shaken by the incidents at Kashi. He hoped his Emperor Daksha and the Neelkanth would reconcile their differences. He wished to avoid the terrible fate of having to choose between his loyalty to his country and his devotion to his God.

Vidyunmali was in-charge of security on Daksha’s ship. He wanted to safeguard against any assassination attempt upon his Emperor by the followers of the Neelkanth. Even though it seemed unlikely, he wanted to take all the possible precautions.

Veerini sat in the royal chambers of the central ship, next to a window, watching the Ganga lap against the ship. She sensed that she had lost all her children now. She turned in anger towards her husband.

Daksha was lying on the bed, eyes forlorn, a lost look on his face. It wasn’t the first time he had faced and been overpowered by such terrible circumstances.

Veerini shook her head and turned to look out again.

If only he had listened to me.

Veerini remembered that incident so clearly it was as if it had happened just yesterday. Almost every day, she wondered how her life would have been if things had turned out differently.

It had happened more than a hundred years ago. Sati had just returned from the Maika gurukul, a headstrong, idealistic girl of sixteen. In keeping with her character, she had jumped in to save an immigrant woman from a vicious pack of wild dogs. Parvateshwar and Daksha had rushed in to her rescue. While they had managed to push back the dogs, Daksha had been seriously injured.

Veerini had accompanied Daksha to the ayuralay where the doctors could examine her husband. The most worrying injury was on his left leg, where a dog had ripped out some flesh, cutting through a major blood vessel. The loss of blood had made Daksha lose consciousness.

When he had opened his eyes after a few hours, Daksha’s first thought was of his young daughter. ‘Sati?’

‘She’s with Parvateshwar,’ said Veerini, as she came closer to her husband and held his hand. ‘Don’t worry about her.’

‘I screamed at her. I didn’t mean to.’

‘I know. She was only doing her duty. She did the right thing, trying to protect that woman. I’ll tell her that...’

‘No. No. I still think she shouldn’t have risked her life for that woman. I didn’t mean to scream at her, that’s all.’

Veerini’s eyes narrowed to slits. Her husband couldn’t be any less Suryavanshi. She was about to say something when the door opened and Brahmanayak walked in.

Brahmanayak, Daksha’s father and ruler of Meluha, was a tall, imposing figure. Long black hair, a well manicured beard, a practically hairless body, a sober crown and understated white clothes could not camouflage the indomitable spirit of the man. He set impossible standards for all those around him with his own great deeds. He was not just respected, but also feared in all of Meluha. Obsessive about the honour and respect that his empire should garner, his son’s lack of courage and character was a source of anger and dismay for him.

Veerini immediately arose and stepped back quietly. Brahmanayak never spoke to her unless to give orders. Behind Brahmanayak was the kindly doctor who had stitched up Daksha’s leg after the severe mauling it had received.

Brahmanayak, in a matter of fact manner, lifted the sheet to look at his son’s leg. There was a bandage of neem leaves tied around it.

The doctor smiled genially. ‘Your Highness, your son will be back on his feet in a week or two. I have been very careful. The scars will be minimal.’

Daksha looked for a brief instant at his father. Then, with his chest puffed up, he whispered, ‘No doctor. Scars are the pride of any Kshatriya.’

Brahmanayak snorted. ‘What would you know about being a Kshatriya?’

Daksha fell silent. Veerini began seething with anger.

‘You let some dogs do this to you?’ asked Brahmanayak, contemptuously. ‘I am the laughing stock of Meluha. Perhaps even the world. My son cannot even kill a dog all by himself.’

Daksha kept staring at his father.

To prevent a further escalation of hostility and to safeguard the patient’s mental health, the doctor cut in, ‘Your Highness, I need to discuss something with you. May we talk outside?’

Brahmanayak nodded. ‘I haven’t finished,’ he said, turning to Daksha, before walking out of the chamber.

A livid Veerini stepped up to her husband, who was crying now. ‘How long are you going to tolerate this?’

Daksha suddenly turned ferocious. ‘He’s my father! Speak of him with respect.’

‘He does not care about you, Daksha,’ said Veerini. ‘All that he cares about is his legacy. You don’t even want to be King. So what are we doing here?’

‘My duty. I have to stay by his side. I am his son.’

‘He doesn’t think so. You are only someone who would carry forward his name, his legacy. That’s all.’