Jhooleshwar escorted the Neelkanth on an excursion to the Western Sea on his very first day in Karachapa. Shiva had never seen the sea and was fascinated by the near infinite expanse of water. He spent many hours at the port where Jhooleshwar proudly expounded on the various types of ships and vessels manufactured at the shipyard attached to the Karachapa port. Brahaspati accompanied them to the port to check on the imports due for him from the Mesopotamian merchants.

At the evening state dinner organised for Shiva, Jhooleshwar proudly announced that a jagna, a ceremonial fire sacrifice, was being organised the next day in honour of the Neelkanth, under the auspices of Lord Varun and the legendary Ashwini Kumar twins. The Ashwini Kumar twins were celebrated ancient seafarers who had navigated ocean routes from Meluha to Mesopotamia and beyond. Their maps, guidance and stories were a source of inspiration and learning for this city of seamen.

After dinner, Shiva visited the chambers where Sati and Krittika were housed.

‘I was wondering,’ said Shiva, still careful with Sati since she had gone back to being formal with him, ‘will you be coming to the yagna tomorrow?’

‘I am very sorry, Lord Neelkanth,’ said Sati courteously. ‘But it may not be possible for me to attend the ceremony. I am not allowed to attend such yagnas.’

Shiva was about to say that nobody would question her since she would be attending with the Neelkanth. But he thought better of it. ‘Perhaps we could have a dance practise tomorrow? I cannot remember the last time we had a dance session.’

‘That would be nice. I have not had the benefit of your instruction in a long time,’ said Sati.

Shiva nodded unhappily at Sati — the freeze in their relationship tormented him. Bidding goodbye, he turned to leave.

Krittika glanced at Sati, shaking her head imperceptibly.

CHAPTER 15

Trial by Fire

The little boy hurried through a dusty goat trail, trying to avoid the sharp stones, bundling into his fur coat. The dense, wet forest encroached on the path menacingly. It was difficult to see beyond the trees lining the narrow path. The boy was sure that there were terrible monsters lurking in the dense foliage, waiting to pounce on him if he slowed down. His village was but a few hours away. The sun was fast setting behind the mountains. Monsters love the darkness — he had heard his mother and grandmother say repeatedly when he was being difficult. He would have liked being accompanied by an elder, as monsters didn’t trouble the elders.

His heart skipped a beat as he heard a strange heaving sound. He immediately drew out his short sword, suspecting an attack from behind. His friends had heard many stories about the monsters of the forests. The cowards never attackedfrom the front.

He stood still straining to determine the direction of the sound. It had a peculiar repetitive rhythm and seemed vaguely familiar. He felt as though he had heard it before. The heaving was now accompanied by a heavy grunting male voice. This was not a monster! The boy felt excitement run through his body. He had heard his friends whisper in giggles about it, but never seen the act himself. This was his chancel

He crept slowly into the foliage, his sword dangling by his side. He did not have to go too far when he came upon the source of the sound. It came from a small clearing. He bid behind a tree trunk and peeped.

It was a couple. They seemed to be in a hurry. They had not even disrobed completely. The man was extraordinarily hairy — almost like a bear. The boy could see just his back from this angle. He had a frontal view of the woman. She was astonishingly beautiful. Her wavy hair, long and lustrous. The partly torn blouse revealed a firm breast, with deep red welts due to the brutal intercourse. Her skirt had been ripped and revealed exquisite long legs. The boy was excited beyond imagination. Wait till his best friend Bhadra heard of this!

As he enjoyed the show, his disquiet grew. Something seemed amiss. The man was in the throes of passion while the woman lay passive — almost dead. Her hands lay lifeless by her side. Her mouth was tightly shut. She was not whispering encouragements to her lover. Were those tears of ecstasy rolling down her cheeks’? Or was she being forced? But how could that be? The man’s knife lay within the woman’s reach. She could have picked up the blade and stabbed him if she wanted.

The boy shook his head. He tried to silence his conscience. ‘Just shut up. Ijet me look.’

And then came the moment that would haunt him for the rest of his life. The woman’s eyes suddenly fell upon him.

‘HELP!’ she cried out, ‘Please help!’

The startled boy fell back, dropping his sword. The hairy monster turned to see who the woman was calling. The boy quickly picked up his sword and fled, ignoring the searing pain on his frost-bitten foot as he ran. He was terrified at the thought that the man was chasing him. He could hear the man’s heavy breathing.

The boy leapt onto the goat trail and sped towards his village. He could still hear the heavy breathing. It was drawing closer every second. The boy suddenly swerved to his left, pivoted and slashed back with his sword.

There was nobody there. No sound of heavy breathing. The only sound was the haunting plea of a distraught woman.

‘Help! Please help!’

The little boy looked back. That poor woman.

‘Go back! Help her!’ cried his inner voice.

He hesitated for a moment. Then turned and fled towards his village.

NO! GO BACK! HELP HER!

Shiva woke up sweating, his heart pounding madly. He instinctively turned around, wanting desperately to go back to that dreadful day. To redeem himself. But there would be no redemption. The woman’s terrified face came flooding back. He shut his eyes. But how do you shut your eyes to an image branded on your mind?

He pulled his knees up and rested his head on them. Then he did the only thing that helped. He cried.

The yagna platform had been set up at the central square of the Dwitiya platform. For Karachapa, it was not the usual austere affair typical of Meluha. The frontier city had decorated the area with bright colours that vied for attention. The platform itself had been painted in a bright golden hue. Colourfully decorated poles, festooned with flowers, held aloft a shamiana, a cloth canopy. Red and blue pennants, with the Suryavanshi symbol painted on, hung proudly from many poles. The entire atmosphere was that of pomp and show.

Jhooleshwar received Shiva at the head of the platform and guided him to his ritual seat at the yagna. At the governor's repeated requests, Shiva had removed his cravat for the duration of the ceremony. Parvateshwar and Brahaspati sat to the right of the Neelkanth while Jhooleshwar and Ayurvati sat to his left. Nandi and Veerbhadra had also been invited to sit behind Shiva. Though this was unorthodox, Jhooleshwar had acceded to the Neelkanth’s request. Jhooleshwar governed a cosmopolitan border city and believed that many of the strict Meluhan laws could be bent slightly for the sake of expediency. His liberal attitude had made Karachapa a magnet for people from a wide variety of races and a hub for the exchange of goods, services and ideas.

Shiva looked towards Sati’s balcony, which overlooked the central square in the distance. Though Sati was not allowed to step on the platform while the yagna was being conducted, she could look on at the proceedings from the safe distance of her chambers. Shiva noticed her standing behind the balcony curtain, with Krittika by her side, observing the proceedings.

As was the custom before such a yagna, the pandit stood up and asked formally, ‘If anybody here has any objection to this yagna, please speak now. Or forever hold your peace.’