《A tapestry of allegiance》


 Prologue I

    Mahananda Great Hall, Northern Vardhana.


    The air was heavy with the scent of sweat, the murmurs and anticipation of the crowd leaving the great hall with no room for peace. Though the war had finally subsided, the fear it had sown continued to linger. The fear of another attack, of another betrayal. None of the southern powers alone could match the mainland''s behemoths of steel and flame. They were loud, rough and destructive, far from what the farmers and traders of the Peninsula knew.


    The kings rejoiced at the end of chaos, but the people demanded for more. A treaty, a change in the system of blood and massacre. The Kings had rallied the common folk for decades, spilled their blood and claimed victory for themselves. They had committed atrocities in the name of honour, pride and conquest with nothing spared but nameless freedom to the soldiers that got martyred.


    Thus laid two choices in front of them from their masses¡ª agreement to the treaty for unity and peace or ruthless mutiny.


    The Vardhana king seated on his throne, slumped back in exhaustion. His scars were still bright red, some healing while others oozing infected pus. He was reluctant for the summit to take place in his Kingdom, but being the prime leader of the troops against the mainland¡¯s forces, he refused being dragged to another¡¯s Kingdom to sign a peace treaty.


    Peace. Something so fragile yet sought after by the strongest of devils. Him and his ancestors had themselves been the one to pursue it, failing miserably and sacrificing hundreds. But after twenty years of his reign, he had started feeling the chains he had gotten entangled with during his relentless pursuit. He renounced it as soon as he declared to have been enlightened with a new purpose, and embraced a life of bloodshed rather than of silk and luxury. Honour, he called it, was his goal and not peace. But it came with its costs too, for no dream can be achieved without sacrifice.


    His calloused fingers tamed his flowing beard, brushing through meticulously and untangling any messes, but his eyes held a distant haze, murmurs enveloping his ears but not deciphering any. He was the oldest of them all, the wisest by his own claims, but his words were rather taken as threats than wisdom by the people. So he had decided to stay silent for now. The Vardhanas had fought for too long and now was the time for some rest. He thus sat on his throne, unmoving and unflinching at the chaos unfolding.


    ¡° Peace has been sought after for decades, and the people are at the ends of their wits. The treaty is simple, as inked down verbatim by the learned scholars of the Peninsula, upon the ceaseless pursuit for safety by the common folk¡± the mediator announced to the people present, filling the halls with their murmurs and doubts. ¡° The basis of the treaty is as simple as it gets¡ª none of the major powers of the Peninsula, viz. The Vardhana, The Chalukya, The Suryakshi and The Kautilya are allowed to wage war on each other. And if any one of the Kingdoms breaks the treaty, they shall be met by the force of the other three as a united font. The powers together, with no internal conflicts dividing the Peninsular Quadrumvirate, will serve as a great shield against the mainland¡¯s assaults¡±.


    Hums of agreement filled the court, the galleries seeing an overwhelming support to the treaty. A slight reluctance spread among the dignitaries present, but they too couldn¡¯t help but appreciate the cause. Especially when they had suffered losses in the wars led by Vardhanas too. The treaty had come at a time when the battle had already been won, and the Kings couldn¡¯t grasp a better time to put forth a shield as such from Vardhana¡¯s increasing military prowess.The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.


    The Vardhana Kingdom had dealt with major blows of the mainland Kingdom¡¯s pursuit to the Peninsula for years, and had to ask for aid from its neighbouring monarchs. The other Kingdoms in response had put no concession in sending their own soldiers as a token of contribution, hoping to leverage such acts as benevolent precaution whenever Vardhana would decide to move its focus towards them instead of its enemies up north.


    The discussions and doubts took the sun from its zenith to the horizon, the chill of evening slowly creeping into the halls. The servants scurried by the creeping darkness to light the lamps, while the common folk shivered by the cold floors and unlit galleries. But no one dared to leave, they had to see the treaty signed in front of their eyes ensuring the start of a new era of peace.


    The Vardhana King yawned once the commotion settled down. It had been hours since he had been seated at the prime throne of the court. Even distracted, his mind was sharp enough in his fifties to realise that the meeting was coming to an end. His eyes refocused onto the silver plate carrying a feather quill and ink pot. Only one for all the signatures. No place for mistakes, nor foul play.


    His gaze by reflex went to the slave, scrawny, weak and balding. He had never seen the slave, but it wasn¡¯t just his face that looked new. The Vardhana court was known to be one of the most efficient, and none of the slaves had the time to carry hopes and dreams. Their hands worked like wheels, their work imbibed within them as if they were destined for nothing else. Even the sweepers worked with the efficiency of military troops, their eyes focused on the task and their bodies waiting to be punished for even a breath spared without a cause. But in this slave, the king saw what he had never expected¡ª a raised head. He looked eye to eye with the King, challenging him to pick up the quill and sign the treaty.


    A chill ran through the warrior King, a defiance scaring him in a way a blade has never. His hand reached out for the quill, his signature being the first of many on the treaty.


    The treaty of Peace, ¡°Sarvadharma¡± as the common folk had named it.


    The reluctant King signed it, and waited for the mediator to place the treaty in front of the next King, hailing from Suryakshi. The ink was yet to dry, but the Suryakshi king signed the treaty in a blink of an eye. He wasn¡¯t going to be an antagonist to the people¡¯s cause, not like the rest of the Kings. He took pride in his justice, in his name and legacy. Moreover, there were reparations to be made, to the soldiers he had sold off to Vardhana to win the war and manage the weeping widows and orphans. He had to motivate them again to serve the nation, build more bodies to use and sacrifice in the name of the nation.


    Next the treaty slid towards the leaders of Chakukya, the herald of deities and divinity. The pioneers of the treaty. They had every intention to sign the treaty, it kept them safe from the warmonger Kingdom of Vardhana and the justice blinded Suryakshi. They had a religion to expand and a land to till, to sow the seeds of their influence. Their multiple signatures demanded more time, but it didn¡¯t matter to the last King, ruler of Kautilya.


    He waited patiently, and let the minor Kings put their approval before taking the treaty into his own hands. He had made it a point to reread the treaty, even though it had been spelled and explained by the mediator thoroughly, and only after being satisfied with its contents, he placed his signature at the end.


    Thirty four signatures were collected that evening, and by dawn all of those thirty four had left Vardhana, for their own safety. A glaring truth was apparent to all, even the common folk who had pushed for the treaty¡ª it was only a matter of time till it got broken. A Sangram, the learned scholars had termed it, where the chaos would reach its peak and the treaty would be as bare as a carcass. And much to everyone¡¯s shared knowledge, they could only suffice that Vardhanas would be the harbinger of such chaos yet again.


    The Kautilyas left to their western coast, the Chalukyas to their central Kingdom of vast forests, while Suryakshis returned to their eastern Ghats, determined in keeping Vardhanas in check from the shadows. Kings ruled one after the other, and the tensions seemed to dilute with the passage of time. But the Sangram awaited its call.

 Prologue (II)

    Oak forest of Kharagshikar, Suryakshi.


    "How many?" Ahankara stepped into the mud, the border of her red saree embroidered with gold getting stained, a look not seemingly for a Queen. But she wasn''t one, not just a Queen. She was the ruler of the land, and she was responsible for the massacre that got carried out when she wasn''t looking.


    "We don''t know Your Majesty" the soldier kept his head bowed, shooting sharp glances at the cowering working flanking him. It was their duty to round up the bodies of those killed, be it the tribals or the Kharag guards.


    Ahankara kept her gaze forward, reaching till where the thicket was cleared by the constant run through of carriages that carried timber. The Oak forest was a livelihood for all the four major kingdoms of the Peninsula, and Suryakshi was privileged to harbour majority of its share. But the Kingdom had been greedy to Ahankara''s dismay.


    She touched a broken trunk reaching just above her frame, struck down by lightning it seemed. The rugged edges were not the work of any human. Humans loved to achieve perfection, smooth edges, to hide the cruelty and violence that cut down the trees.


    "I hadn''t asked for something impossible have I, Sir Jirat" Ahankara''s voice became a guttural threat, something that every administrator and soldier preferred to avoid, " I didn''t ask for you to categorise the deaths, to tell me how many died from the massacre and how many from the thunderstorm. How many were tribals and how many were soldiers. I haven''t even asked for an overwhelming response against the violence and yet! All you respond with is useless apologies."


    The soldier and workers shifted in their place, waiting for a punishment to be stated out for them.


    ¡°If I don''t have the data by tomorrow evening, you all shall be given to the mercy of the Commander¡± she howled, not waiting to listen to their mewling voice, begging for any other punishment.


    Ahankara walked slowly into the forest, the towering oak trees had left enough space for the ground to grow soggy after the continuous rain for the past week. She knew the data would be difficult to collect, but time was not her friend currently. She needed to pass a decree quickly, before the land got swept up in the civil war between the princes.


    Prince Chahak and Prince Swapna, both incredibly competent to rule the land of Suryakshi but equally arrogant to not share it. Ahankara knew the current massacre was just one of the many that would continue if both were let to come to a conclusion with violence.


    ¡°Which one of them allowed this?¡± Ahankara asked her right hand woman, her headmaid, who scurried beside her everywhere she was asked to. Though not a courtier, she held more information than what those men with gold rings and hookahs in their hands could gather. Such was the power of gossip.


    ¡°The people say.. it was Prince Chahak¡± Aruna whispered close to Ahankara, not letting the entourage of a dozen guards following them hear her. ¡°But.. there was some other commotion too¡­ almost two months ago. They carried the name of the princess.¡±


    ¡°Vasudha?¡± Ahankara¡¯s eyes went wide for a second. ¡°That can''t be, she''s a newlywed bride¡±.


    ¡°But people say.. she was seen in Manohar.. that too without her husband¡±.


    That was surely weird. Ahankara knew Vasudha¡¯s appearance was difficult to confuse with any commoner. Blessed with a pale skin like the mainland¡¯s beauties, she held no resemblance to her father or her mother. That was also why she was married off to the nobleman at the young age of 15, just as she bled for the first time. And for such a young girl to be seen in Manohar district, so close to the Oak forests of Kharagshikar meant foul play.


    ¡°And what else do they say?¡± Ahankara needed more pieces to form the whole picture.


    ¡°The people say a lot of things, Your Majesty,¡± Aruna¡¯s sleazy tongue became sharp, ¡°but they may distract you from what''s important. I only tell you what might be of interest, but if you wish to know more, I should warn you against it.¡±


    Ahankara scoffed at the old maid¡¯s words. She had never come across a worker bold enough to cross her. But that only made her believe the old maid¡¯s words more. There was nothing more rewarding than spilling information to the Queen. But the old maid seemed to not tattletale useless information to secure her dignity. I may be born a poor Your Majesty, but my skills will speak for itself when the rich come bargaining for my advice.


    ¡°Do they say something about me?¡± Ahankara asked, wanting to veer the conversation to something less intriguing for the piqued ears around them. The names of warring princes were to be spoken in hushed tones, lest people came to know where your allegiance lied.


    ¡°The same old tales Your Majesty¡± Aruna sighed through her broken teeth while staggering to keep up with the Queen¡¯s youthful pace. ¡°But people say.. you might be fighting a war by yourself¡±.


    Ahankara furrowed her eyes, ¡° I don''t think so Aruna¡±.


    ¡°But people say..¡± Aruna put her hand on Ahankara¡¯s signalling her to stop in order to catch her breath, ¡°Prince Vyaghra is growing up without an anchor¡±.


    Ahankara didn''t need to know about the gossip regarding her son. How much she had dreamt of the gossip to be about the valour of her son when he was growing in her womb, but the heavens had decided to bless her with nothing but ill-luck. Vyaghra, her little tiger, was a son prophesied with a dark future. And the prophecy had spread like wildfire amongst the masses in a blink of an eye. All because her co-wife, late Queen Chandramukhi, didn''t want a competitor for her two sons, who were enemies well enough for each other.


    ¡°Vyaghra is growing up a playful, mischievous child, I am well aware¡± Ahankara snatched back her arm from Aruna¡¯s grip and resumed walking into the thicker part of the forest, untouched by the assault of lightning. She listened to all the advice that Aruna had to impart, but a childless widow like the old woman wasn''t someone from whom Ahankara wanted to take lessons for parenting.


    The older woman had asked for Vyaghra to be sent to the Lords council for education, enrolling him in gurukul way before the age of 8, to thwart any kind of rumors. Afterall, to badmouth a disciple of the Lords would be held contemptuous against Suryakshi customs.


    But Ahankara didn''t want to part ways with her child. He was a lively boy, curious about every little thing around him. Coincidentally, his childish nature attracted his other three half-siblings, making them care for him like his own blood. Vasudha especially, had been the closest to him before she was sent off to northern Suryakshi with her thirty year old groom. Vyaghra had cried all night long that day. Ahankara had felt guilty for his tears, but Vasudha needed to leave the palace.


    ¡°Stay here¡± Ahankara ordered the guards. ¡°You too Aruna¡±.


    ¡°Your Majesty the forest is filled with wild animals¡± the head guard requested, ¡°please let a few of us accompany you¡±.


    Ahankara sighed, looking forward towards the vines that had started covering the muddy ground. The forest threshold of Kharag residence was near. Outside it was the territory of the tribals, and they shot trespassers without much consideration. They were protected by Suryakshi law after all, a bill that Ahankara herself fought to pass through the council. Unauthorized usage: this narrative is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings.


    ¡°Shyam, Baldev¡± she beckoned at the two men flanking the head guard. They had been stationed as Queensguard since the day she had stepped into the palace. ¡°Only they will be following. Rest of you go and look over the proceedings. Do not let any of the officers toil away the precious time. We might be teetering at the edge of Sangram if we overlook this chaos.¡±


    ¡°Yes, Your Majesty¡± everyone bowed and then left, except the two guards wearing a green sash to represent their loyalty to the Queen. Keeping six feet of distance, they followed the young Queen whose eyes seemed to perk up at the pursuit of an abyss that trailed into the thicket.


    ¡° Do any of you hear it?¡± She asked the two as they cupped their ears to listen better. ¡°it''s a conch shell¡±.


    ¡°Very light¡± Shyam concluded, ¡°as if.. being stuffed away¡±.


    ¡°From a cave probably¡± Baldev stated, ¡°there are a few by the cliff¡±.


    ¡°It isn''t a war declaration I hope¡± Ahankara asked, for the two guards would know better about the details of warfare.


    ¡°No¡± they said in unison, but Shyam quickly let Baldev take the lead, ¡°even if someone attacks it would be guerilla warfare. You wouldn''t need a conch shell to announce the attack Your Majesty¡±.


    Ahankara nodded. But then what could it be? Was someone doing any ritualistic praying in the middle of the day?


    ¡°Maybe someone is calling out for help¡± Shyam suggested, ¡°the Oak tribes are known to use horns for signals¡±.


    But they were also known for traps. Just like every other inhabitation, trying to keep outsiders away from their territory.


    ¡°The storm must have left many destitute. There isn''t much manpower or else I would have suggested rescuing them. The Lords wouldn''t extend help to tribal areas after all¡±. Ahankara pondered over the possibilities. She needed to check out the signal by herself.


    ¡°It''s okay Your Majesty, we will protect you¡±Baldev stomped his puffed up chest, the armour plate giving out a reverbing clang. Shyam followed his superior which made Ahankara laugh. She knew they would protect her till their last breath. In return, you protect the world.


    ***


    ¡°Anusha!¡± Ahankara had been asking for her daughter to wake up from her slumber for the fifth time, but to no avail. Anusha had loved sleeping till noon since she had returned from the kanyakul a week ago. She hated waking up before sunrise during the 8 years of her schooling.


    ¡°Maa please, just a bit more¡± Anusha mewled while wrapping herself around the lap pillow that she had brought with her in the camp.


    Ahankara couldn''t believe how little Anusha understood their situation. But she was also relieved, for it meant her daughter was living a content life. Unlike her brother.


    ¡°Listen young woman, I am going to ask the soldiers to bring down the tent and you''ll be left scavenging for proper clothes in front of them. Would you prefer that?¡± Ahankara''s threat worked perfectly as her daughter sprung up her mattress and ran towards the neatly folded clothes in her undershirt.


    ¡°Brother isn''t going away anywhere maa! Why are we hurrying so much!¡± Anusha whined as she struggled to bind the threads of her garments.


    Ahankara''s heart squeezed at the words. Vyaghra was surely not going away anywhere, but he didn''t seem to wish to come back either.


    ¡°Because we aren''t supposed to disturb the other students of Gurukul, Anusha¡± Ahankara asked for the maids to come in and pack all the belongings to their respective trunks. Travelling was a humongous task for noble women who were to carry things that ensured their skin remained soft and admirable. ¡°We will reach there after the students have left for their morning prayer, and leave before they can return¡±.


    ¡°But wouldn''t it matter more if we reached there while they were present? If their discipline is to be tested, wouldn''t it make more sense to see if they can keep themselves composed in the presence of the Queen?¡±


    Ahankara had no doubt that Anusha was a wandering fool in her previous life, putting people in all sorts of dilemmas with her words. But still, her questions never failed to leave her amused and sometimes annoyed.


    ¡°We are not to test anything. They are children and not yet part of the formal society. We shouldn''t expect them to act like adults.¡± Ahankara chided Anusha, ¡°On the other hand, you are a grown woman who is getting closer to the age of marriage. And yet you sleep like a dead log. Don''t you know mother-in-laws admonish such kinds of brides?¡±


    Ahankara smiled as she saw her sixteen year old daughter stop midway with brushing out her unruly hair. She knew well Anusha hated the idea of leaving home. She also knew that Anusha would remain in the palace even if she wished to marry someone. Afterall, she was her only daughter, and she wouldn''t let another one of her children be snatched away.


    ¡°Maa!¡± Anusha huffed, and quickly got over with her grooming so that Ahankara won''t breathe down her neck longer. The entourage accompanying them had a significant journey yet, reaching the gurukul through the darkness of early dawn.


    ***


    Ahankara wondered if her body was already taken to the pyre. She wondered if her eyes had gotten so blind that she couldn''t see the flames engulfing her. But hearing Anusha¡¯s voice, begging to the heavens to save her mother made Ahankara realise she was still clinging on to life. But not for long.


    ¡°Please Lord Pulastya¡­ please do something¡± Anusha¡¯s voice had become hoarse, Ahankara could tell. Probably from all the screaming back in the forest. And then beside her through the days that had passed.


    Anusha¡­ my child.. don''t cry. Not in front of these treacherous bastards. She wanted to admonish her daughter for her foolishness. For showing such blatant weakness and naviety. But her throat wouldn''t make a single sound. She couldn''t even feel her tongue. The only thing she could feel was the agonising heat in her chest, gnawing away at her heart and lungs.


    ¡°Nothing can be done Princess¡± The elder Lord spoke, ¡° she is on her last breaths¡±.


    A lie. And a truth.


    Something could be done. They could plunge a dagger through her heart to stop her agony. Decide her last breath once and for all. But they wouldn''t. They wanted her to have an excruciating death, deserving of what they labelled as a witch.


    Anusha¡¯s weeping gradually came to a halt, her fists tightened against the bedsheet soiled with Ahankara¡¯s sweat and excreta.


    Did Anusha know how badly the Queen of Suryakshi was treated on her deathbed? How she was denied any maid, for the poison she had been attacked with was ¡®unknown¡¯. How the last three days went by with Lords noting down the gradual progression of the poison, not even trying to find an antidote for it as it burned every cell of their Queen.


    Probably not.


    Ahankara didn''t know where Anusha was for the past three days. She was alone in the royal chamber with the Lords, who inspite of being eunuchs had her stripped naked in the name of medicine and science. Men and their lust, be it for a woman¡¯s body or humiliation; Ahankara could never win against it, even after 18 years of her rule.


    ¡°Call Prince Vyaghra¡± Ahankara was amazed how she could still hear Anusha¡¯s voice so clearly. Her ears had always been sharp, and were the last to leave her side. Just how Shyam and Baldev had been true to their words, her own skills had also served her loyally.


    ¡°We had tried Your Highness¡± a maid answered, ¡°he hadn''t spoken a word¡±.


    ¡°What about Lord Vajra?¡±


    ¡°He has declined any visits until..¡±


    ¡°Until what? Speak up!¡± Anusha shouted.


    ¡°Until you are jailed and put on trial, Your Highness¡±.


    A silence engulfed the room. Ahankara wondered if her ears had also left their duty. But the sudden clinging bangles of the maids cleaning her days old soiled clothes and mattresses made her realise a grave decision was being made.


    ¡°So be it¡± Anusha¡¯s voice left in a defeated breath.


    No.


    ¡°My mother needs her son beside her. He''s her heir, her blood, her little tiger. I am sure, she''s already fed up with my whining¡±.


    No.


    Anusha stood up the mattress as it dipped in the pressure, sending painful ripples to Ahankara. But she could only focus on Anusha¡¯s words.


    ¡°But I will only leave once Prince Vyaghra is seen out of his chamber and in front of mother''s room.¡±


    No. Don''t leave me again with these men. You are my blood. You are my heir.. my legacy. Vyaghra- who is he? Whose is this name? Who am I?


    Ahankara had struggled hard to cling onto life, to stay alive till she was sure of Anusha¡¯s survival. The poison arrows, shot through the darkness of Amavasya, were heading straight for Anusha after all. For whom were they? Ahankara knew she would never know the answer. But she wished to the heavens where her soul was drifting to, that it wasn''t her blood that grew up to be a monster.