Probably just like how Lord Ram would have preferred.

The only concession to the emperor, however, was that his standard block structure was larger than the others. Significantly larger.

Shiva and Nandi entered the royal private office to find Emperor Daksha sitting on a simple throne at the far end of the modesdy furnished room, flanked by a man and a woman.

Daksha, greeting Shiva with a formal namaste, said. ‘I hope your journey was comfortable.’

He looked too young to be an emperor of such a large country. Though he was marginally shorter than Shiva, the major difference between them was the musculature. While the strapping Shiva was powerfully built, Daksha’s body showed that it had not been strained by too much exercise. He wasn’t obese either. Just average. The same could be said about his wheatish complexioned face. Average sized, dark eyes flanked a straight nose. He wore his hair long like most Meluhan men and women. The head bore a majestic crown with the sun symbol of the Suryavanshis manifested in the centre through sparkling gem stones. An elegant dhoti, with an angvastram hung down the right shoulder and a large amount of functional jewellery, including two amulets on his right arm, complemented Daksha’s average appearance. His only distinguishing feature was his smile — which spread its innocent conviction all the way to his eyes. Emperor Daksha looked like a man who wore his royalty lightly.

‘Yes it was, your highness,’ replied Shiva. The infrastructure in your empire is wonderful. You are an extraordinary emperor.’

‘Thank you. But I only deserve reflected credit. The work is done by my people,’

‘You are too modest, your Highness.’

Smiling politely, Daksha asked, ‘May I introduce my most important aides?’ Without waiting for an answer, he pointed to the woman on his left, ‘This is my prime minister, Kanakhala. She takes care of all administrative, revenue and protocol matters.’

Kanakhala did a formal namaste to Shiva. Her head was shaved except for a tuft of smooth hair at the back which had been tied in a knot. She had a string called the janau tied across from her left shoulder down to the right side of her torso. She looked young like most Meluhans, but was a little overweight as was clearly evident from the excess flesh she bore between the white blouse and dhoti. She had a dark and incredibly smooth complexion and like all her countrymen, wore jewellery that was restrained and conservative. Shiva noticed that the second amulet on Kanakhala’s arm showed a pigeon. Not a very high chosen-tribe amongst the Brahmins. Shiva bent low and did a formal Namaste in reply.

Pointing to his right, Daksha said, ‘And this is my chief of the armed forces, General Parvateshwar. He looks after the army, navy, special forces, police etc’

Parvateshwar looked like a man that Shiva would think twice about taking on in a battle. He was taller than Shiva and had an immensely muscular physique that dominated the space around him. His curly and long hair had been combed fastidiously and fell neady from under his crown. His smooth, swarthy skin was marked by the proud signs of long years in battle. His body was hairless, in a rare departure from the normally hirsute Kshatriya men who took body hair to be a sign of machismo. Probably to make up for this deficiency, Parvateshwar maintained a thick and long moustache which curled upwards at the edges. His eyes reflected his uncompromisingly strong and righteous character. The second amulet on his arm showed Parvateshwar as a tiger, a very high chosen-tribe amongst the Kshatriyas. He nodded curdy at Shiva. No Namaste. No elaborate bow of his proud head. Shiva, however, smiled warmly and greeted Parvateshwar with a formal Namaste.

‘Please wait outside, Captain,’ advised Parvateshwar, looking at Nandi.

Before Nandi could respond, Shiva cut in. ‘My apologies. But is it alright if Nandi stays here with me? He has been my constant companion since I left my homeland and has become a dear and trusted friend.’

‘Of course he may,’ replied Daksha.

‘Your Highness, it is not appropriate for a Captain to be witness to this discussion,’ said Parvateshwar. ‘In any case, his service rules clearly state that he can only escort a guest into the emperor’s presence and not stay there while a matter of state is discussed.’

‘Oh relax Parvateshwar. You take your service rules too seriously sometimes.’ Turning to Shiva, Daksha continued, ‘If it is alright with you, may we see your neck now?’

Nandi slid behind Shiva to untie the cravat. Seeing the beads darned on the cravat to convey the impression that the throat was covered for religious reasons, Daksha smiled and whispered, ‘Good idea.’

As Nandi pulled Shiva’s cravat off, Daksha and Kanakhala came close to inspect Shiva’s throat in greater detail. Parvateshwar did not step forward but strained his neck slightly to get a better look. Daksha and Kanakhala seemed clearly stunned by what they saw.

The emperor felt the throat and whispered in awe, ‘The colour comes from the inside. It is not a dye. It is true and genuine.’

Daksha and Kanakhala glanced at each other, tears glistening in their astounded eyes. Kanakhala folded her hands into a namaste and began mumbling a chant under her breath. Daksha looked up at Shiva’s face, trying desperately to suppress the ecstasy that coursed through his insides. With a controlled smile, the Emperor of Meluha said, 1 hope we have not done anything to cause you any discomfort since your arrival in Meluha.’

Despite Daksha’s controlled reaction, Shiva could guess that both the emperor and his prime minister were taken aback by his blue throat.

Just how important is this bloody blue throat for the Meluhans?

‘Umm, none at all your Highness,’ replied Shiva as he tied the cravat back around his neck. ‘In fact, my tribe and I have been delighted by the hospitality that we have received here.’

‘I’m glad for that,’ smiled Daksha, bowing his head politely. ‘You may want to rest a litde bit and we could talk in more detail tomorrow. Would you like to shift your residence to the royal citadel? It is rumoured that the quarters here are a litde more comfortable.’

‘That is a very kind offer, your Highness.’

Daksha turned to Nandi and asked, ‘Captain, what did you say your name was?’

‘My name is Nandi, your Highness.’

‘You too are welcome to stay here. Make sure that you take good care of our honoured guest. Kanakhala, please make all the arrangements.’

‘Yes, your Highness.’

Kanakhala called in one of her aides, who escorted Shiva and Nandi out of the royal office.

As Shiva exited the room, Daksha went down on his haunches with great ceremony and touched his head to the ground on which Shiva had just stood. He mumbled a prayer sofdy and stood up again to look at Kanakhala with tears in his eyes. Kanakhala’s eyes, however, betrayed impatience and a touch of anger.

‘I didn’t understand, your Highness,’ glared Kanakhala. ‘The blue mark was genuine. Why did you not tell him?’

‘What did you expect me to do?’ cried a surprised Daksha. ‘This is his second day in Devagiri. You want me to just accost him and tell him that he is the Neelkanth, our saviour? That he has been sent to solve all our problems?’

‘Well, if he has a blue throat, then he is the Neelkanth, isn’t he? And if he is the Neelkanth, then he is our saviour. He has to accept his destiny.’