‘No!’ protested Veerini in a harsh tone that Sati had never heard her mother use. ‘Sati is not going anywhere. I am not going to allow you to put our daughter’s life in danger. She is staying with me in Devagiri.’

‘Veerini, don’t be silly,’ said Daksha calmly. ‘You really think that anything would happen to Sati if the Lord Neelkanth was around. She is at the safest when she is with the Lord.’

‘She is not going. And that is final!’ glared Veerini in a firm voice, clutching Sati’s hand tighdy.

Daksha turned towards Shiva, ignoring Veerini. ‘Don’t worry, my Lord. I will have all the arrangements made. Parvateshwar and Sati will also travel with you. You will just have to restrain Sati sometimes.’

Shiva frowned. So did Sati.

Daksha smiled genially. ‘My darling daughter has the tendency to be a litde too brave at times. like this one time, when she was just a child, she had jumped in all by herself, with nothing but her short sword, to save an old woman being attacked by a pack of wild dogs. She nearly got herself killed for her pains. It was one of the worst days of my life. I think it is the same impulsiveness which worries Veerini as well.’

Shiva looked at Sati. There was no expression on her face.

‘That’s why,’ continued Daksha, ‘I am suggesting that you keep her restrained. Then there should be no problem.’

Shiva glanced again at Sati. He felt a surge of admiration coupled with the boundless love he felt for her.

She did what I couldn’t do.

The next morning, Shiva found himself seated next to Daksha in the Meluhan royal court. The magnificence of the court left him wonderstruck. Since this was a public building, the usual Meluhan reticence and understated designs had been bypassed. It was built next to the Great Public Bath. While the platform had been constructed of the standard kiln-bricks, the structure itself, including the floor, was made of teak wood — easily carved and shaped, yet strong. Brawny wooden pillars had been laid into set grooves on the platform. The pillars had been extravagantly sculpted with celestial figures like apsaras, devas and rishis — celestial nymphs, gods and sages — amongst others. An ornately carved wooden roof that had been inlaid with gold and silver designs crowned the top of the pillars. Pennants of the holy blue colour and royal red colour hung from the ceiling. Each niche on the walls had paintings depicting the life of Lord Ram. But Shiva had little time to admire the glorious architecture of the court.

Daksha’s expectations would be apparent in his speech and were causing him considerable discomfort.

‘As many of you may have heard,’ announced Daksha, ‘there was another terrorist attack yesterday. The Chandravanshis tried to harm the royal family on the road from Mount Mandar to Devagiri.’

Murmurs of dismay filled the court. The question troubling everyone was how the Chandravanshis had discovered the route to Mount Mandar. Shiva meanwhile kept reminding himself that this wasn’t a terrorist attack. It was just a kidnap attempt.

‘The Chandravanshis had planned their attack with great deception,’ said Daksha, drowning out the murmurs with his booming voice.

The talented architects of the court had designed the structure in a manner that any voice spoken from the royal platform resonated across the entire hall. ‘But we beat them back. For the first time in decades, we beat back a cowardly terrorist attack.’

An exultant roar went up in the court at this announcement. They had beaten back open military assaults from the Chandravanshis before. But until this day, the Meluhans had found no answer to the dreaded terrorist strikes. For the terrorists usually launched surprise attacks on non-military locations and fled before the Suryavanshi soldiers could arrive.

Raising his hand to quieten the crowd, Daksha continued, ‘We beat them back because the time for truth to triumph has finally arrived! We beat them back because we were led by Father Manu’s messenger! We beat them back because our time for justice has come!’

The murmurs grew louder. Had the Neelkanth finally arrived? Everyone had heard the rumours. But nobody believed them. There had been too many false declarations in the past.

Daksha raised his hand. He waited for just enough time for the anticipation to build up. And then jubilantly bellowed, ‘Yes! The rumours are true. Our saviour has come! The Neelkanth has come!’

Shiva winced at being put on display on the royal platform with his cravat removed. The Meluhan elite thronged around him, their varying statements buzzing in Shiva’s ears.

‘We had heard the rumours, my Lord. But we never believed them to be true.’

‘We have nothing to fear anymore, my Lord. The days of evil are numbered!’

‘Where are you from, my Lord?’

‘Mount Kailash? Where is that, my Lord? I would like to take a pilgrimage there.’

Answering these repeated questions and being confronted by the blind faith of these people disturbed Shiva. The moment he had a chance, he requested Daksha for permission to leave the court.

A few hours later, Shiva sat in the quiet comfort of his chamber, considering what had happened at the court. The cravat was back around his neck.

‘By the Holy Lake, can I really deliver these people from their troubles?’

‘What did you say, my Lord?’ asked Nandi, who was sitting patiently at a distance.

‘The faith of your people makes me anxious,’ said Shiva, loud enough for Nandi to hear. ‘If there was a one-on-one battie, I could take on any enemy to protect your people. But I am no leader. And I am certainly not a “destroyer of evil”.’

‘I am sure that you can lead us to victory against anyone, my Lord. You beat them back on the road to Devagiri.’

‘That wasn’t a genuine victory,’ said Shiva dismissively. ‘They were a small platoon, aiming to kidnap and not to kill. If we face a well organised and large army, whose aim is to kill, the situation may be very different. If you ask me, it appears that Meluha is against some formidable and ruthless enemies. Your country doesn’t need faith in just one man. That is not the answer. Your people need to adapt to the changing times. Maybe you are too innocent in your way of life to actually take on such a cold-blooded enemy. A new system is needed. I am not some god who will magically solve your problems.’

‘You are right, my Lord,’ said Nandi, with all the conviction of a simple, lucky man not troubled by too many thoughts. ‘A new system is required, and I obviously don’t know what this new system should be. But I do understand one thing. More than a thousand years back, we faced a similar situation and Lord Ram came and taught us a better way. I am sure that, similarly, you will lead us to a superior path.’

‘I am no Lord Ram, Nandi!’

How can this fool even compare me to Lord Ram, the Maryada Purushottam, the Ideal Man?

‘You are better than Lord Ram, my Lord,’ said Nandi.

‘Stop this nonsense, Nandi! What have I done to even be compared with Lord Ram? Let alone be considered better?’

‘But you will do deeds that will place you above him, my Lord.’ ‘Just shut up!’

The preparations for Shiva’s tour of the empire were in full swing. Shiva, however, still found time for Sati’s dance lessons every afternoon. They were developing a quiet friendship. But Shiva agonised over the fact that while she showed respect, there was no softening of emotions in her or expression of feelings.