The Oath of the Vayuputras: Shiva Trilogy 3

Chapter 26

Battle of Mrittikavati

The exhausted scout stumbled into the military tent, barely able to conceal his anxiety. Shiva jerked his head up from the map he’d been poring over, as the soldier managed a hasty salute. ‘What?’

Shot like an arrow, Shiva’s voice made Kali, Sati, Gopal and Chenardhwaj look up too, worry creasing their faces. Shiva’s army had marched in quickly from Lothal and was just a day away from Mrittikavati.

‘My Lord, I have bad news.’

‘Give me the facts. Don’t jump to conclusions.’

‘Mrittikavati is much better defended now than it had been earlier. Brigadier Vidyunmali sailed into the city a few days back. Apparently, he was on his way to Lothal to strengthen Meluha’s defences at the border. Clearly, Emperor Daksha has no idea as yet that Lothal has pledged loyalty to you, My Lord.’

‘How many men does Vidyunmali have?’ asked Chenardhwaj.

‘Around twenty thousand, My Lord. Added to which are the five thousand soldiers already stationed at Mrittikavati.’

‘We’re still at a substantial advantage in terms of numbers, My Lord,’ said Chenardhwaj. ‘But Mrittikavati’s defences can make even twenty-five thousand men seem like a lot.’

Shiva shook his head. ‘I don’t think that should be a problem. It doesn’t matter how many soldiers they have. We just want to commandeer their ships, not conquer their city. If Vidyunmali has sailed with twenty thousand soldiers, his transport ships would also be in the Mrittikavati port, right? So there are even more ships for us to capture.’

Kali smiled. ‘That’s true!’

‘Prepare to march to Mrittikavati,’ said Shiva. ‘We attack in two days.’



Shiva could see the panic-stricken people rush back into the city as the warning conches were blown repeatedly from the ramparts of Mrittikavati. The unexpected appearance of a massive enemy force had shocked the Meluhans.

Atop his horse at a vantage point on the hill, Shiva could clearly see the city of Mrittikavati and its port. Like most Meluhan cities, it had also been built on a massive platform a kilometre away from the Saraswati, as a protection against floods. But it was the port, obviously built on the banks of the great river, which fascinated Shiva.

The circular harbour was massive, with the waters of the Saraswati going into it through a narrow opening. A semi-circular dock was separated by a pool of water from the outer ring of the port. A dome-covered inner dock protected the various repair yards. Ships were anchored along the outer side of the inner dock and the inner side of the outer pier. This ingenious design could hold nearly fifty ships in a relatively small space. The expanse of water between the two parallel circles of ships allowed for free movement of the vessels. The ships could move fairly quickly within the harbour in a single file. Being relatively small, the harbour gate afforded the entry or exit of only one ship at a time. But considering that ships could tail each other in the circular channel within the port, the narrow gate did not affect the speed at which the ships could enter or leave the port. However, it did allow for effective defence against enemy ships. The gate was shut and Shiva could see the numerous points across the harbour walls from where a defence could be mounted.

Shiva smiled. Typically foolproof Meluhan planning.

Kali leaned across to Shiva. ‘The fortified pathway between the city and the port may be a weakness.’

‘Yes,’ said Sati. ‘Let’s attack from there. If we succeed in making them feel vulnerable, they will be forced to shut the gates of the city that lead to this pathway, and pull their soldiers within. The city and the port are not next to each other, which means they will have to sacrifice one or the other if the pathway walls are breached. I would imagine they would compromise and give up the port.’

Shiva looked at Sati. ‘Vidyunmali is aggressive. He doesn’t like to make compromises. Once he realises that we are after their ships and not the city itself, he may take a gamble. He may choose to step out of the city and mount a rearguard assault on our attacking forces. That may appear like a sensible choice to him. He may think that he can rout us on the pathway, thus saving both the port and the city. I hope he makes that mistake.’



Shiva rode up and down the line of his all-inclusive army, consisting of Brangas, Vasudevs, Nagas and some Suryavanshis from Lothal. Sati and Kali were on horseback, leading their sections of the army. The soldiers were ready but knew that the Meluhans were well fortified.

‘Soldiers!’ roared Shiva. ‘Mahadevs! Hear me!’

Silence descended on the men.

‘We’re told a great man walked this earth a thousand years ago. Lord Ram, Maryada Purushottam, the most celebrated amongst the kings. But we know the truth! He was more than a man! He was a God!’

The soldiers listened in pin-drop silence.

‘These people,’ said Shiva, pointing to the Meluhans stationed on the fort walls of Mrittikavati, ‘only remember his name. They don’t remember his words. But I remember the words of Lord Ram. I remember he had said: “If you have to choose between my people and dharma, choose dharma! If you have to choose between my family and dharma, choose dharma! Even if you have to choose between me and dharma, always choose dharma!”’

‘Dharma!’ bellowed the army in one voice.

‘The Meluhans have chosen Evil,’ bellowed Shiva. ‘We choose dharma!’

‘Dharma!’

‘They have chosen death! We choose victory!’

‘Victory!’

‘They have chosen the Somras!’ roared Shiva. ‘We choose Lord Ram!’

‘Jai Shri Ram!’ shouted Sati.

‘Jai Shri Ram!’ Kali joined the war cry.

‘Jai Shri Ram!’ shouted all the soldiers.

‘Jai Shri Ram!’

‘Jai Shri Ram!’

The familiar cry from the Neelkanth’s army reverberated within the walls of Mrittikavati; it was a cry that usually charged the Meluhans. But this time it infused fear.

Shiva turned to Kali, surrounded by the roars of his warriors, and nodded at her. A small cold smile curved Kali’s lips and she nodded in return, her eyes glittering, and swung her sword so it flashed in the sun. Then she raised a single hand to the soldiers behind her, and a wave of silence rolled out across the army until all that could be heard was the wind snapping at the banners flying above their heads. She signalled again and the men tensed and readied their weapons. Then she raised one sword, pointed towards the sky, and with a blood-curdling scream, brought her blade forward to unleash a roaring tide of men at the walls.



Shiva keenly observed the battle raging in a narrow section of the fortified pathway. Kali was engaged in making repeated assaults with the Vasudev elephants and makeshift catapults, concentrating all resources on breaching one small section. A small number of exceptionally brave Naga soldiers fought against daunting odds as the Meluhans shot arrows and poured boiling oil from the battlements that lined the pathway. Famed for their superhuman courage, the Nagas were ideal for this battle of attrition. Small breaches began opening up on the pathway walls; Shiva’s soldiers would soon be able to block the city’s access to its port. This triggered the reaction that Shiva expected from Vidyunmali. The main gates of Mrittikavati were thrown open and the Meluhans marched out, arranged in a formation that they had learnt from Shiva himself.

The Meluhan soldiers had formed themselves into squares of twenty by twenty men. Each soldier covered the left half of his body with his shield and the right half of the soldier to the left of him. The soldier behind used his shield as a lid to cover himself and the soldier in front. Each warrior used the space between his own shield and the one next to him to hold out his long spear. This formation provided the defence of a tortoise but could also be used as a devastatingly offensive battering ram with long spears bearing in on the enemy.

However, the tortoise had one weakness that was known to the creator of the formation himself: Shiva. This chink in the armour was at its rear; if attacked from behind, there was little that the soldiers could do. They were weighed down with heavy spears which pointed ahead. It was difficult to turn around quickly. Furthermore, there was no shield protection at the back of the formation. So if an enemy were to get behind, he could attack the soldiers and rout them completely.

Shiva turned towards Sati with a smile. ‘Vidyunmali is so predictable.’

Sati nodded. ‘To formation?’

‘To formation,’ agreed Shiva.

Sati immediately turned her horse and rode out to the right, quickly extending the line of the army under her command towards the pathway wall. She steadily put herself between the Meluhan tortoises emerging from the city gates, and Kali’s brave Nagas who were attacking the fortified pathway behind her. Her task was to first fight hard and then begin retreating slowly, giving the Meluhans a false sense of imminent victory, keeping them marching forward. It would be a tough battle which would lead to heavy casualties, as she would be right in front of the unstoppable tortoise formations. As the Meluhans moved ahead, space would open up behind them, allowing Shiva to ride out with his cavalry and attack them from the rear.

Shiva, meanwhile, rode towards the elephant corps and the cavalry on the left.

‘Steady!’ Shiva ordered the Vasudev brigadier in command of the elephant corps.

Shiva had to move quickly. But he also had to move at the right time. If he charged too early, Vidyunmali would smell the trap.

As Veerbhadra saw the Meluhan tortoise charge into Sati’s army, he turned to Shiva, worried. ‘The task is too difficult for Sati. We should…’

‘Stay focused, Bhadra,’ said Shiva. ‘She knows what she is doing.’

The tortoise formations were bearing down hard on Sati and her soldiers. In the best traditions of Suryavanshi warfare, Sati led from the front. She could see the wall of shields moving steadily towards her at a slow, jostling run, a forest of spears bristling out of every crevice. The sun bounced off the polished metal with every thudding step they took. She breathed out slowly and urged her horse forward into a smooth canter, then a gallop as she held herself just out of the saddle, poised and still, waiting for her moment.

Closer and closer she came to the formation, eyes searching for a gap. For a moment a shield shifted slightly out of alignment as they ran, exposing the neck of a soldier. Without shifting in her seat, Sati drew a knife from her sheath and flung it with deadly accuracy, striking home and felling the soldier in midstep.

The tortoise was almost upon her. She pulled hard on the reins, her horse rearing up as she tried to turn backwards. She felt a sharp pain in her shoulder and heard her horse neigh desperately as it faltered beneath her. Gasping in pain from the spear thrust, she tried to kick free from her dying mount as it came to its knees. She looked up to see which soldier had stabbed her, but could not make out which pair of eyes, peering over their shields, held the spear that was buried in her shoulder. The spear was thrust deeper, and she cried out, half in pain and half in anger, her eyes watering. She swung her sword violently, hacking the spear in two, as she rolled off the horse and onto her feet.

A few arrows sped past Sati’s shoulders, striking more soldiers in the tortoise through the gap she had just created. For a moment, the Meluhan charge slowed and faltered, the shield line crumbling in slightly as replacement soldiers struggled to come forward and seal the breach. Admirably though, the Meluhans were back in formation quickly and resumed their charge. Sati stepped back a pace and in the same movement, almost like they were in lock-step, her army stepped back as well, imperceptibly, as they fought on bravely. They kept withdrawing gradually, as though being mowed down by the unstoppable tortoise corps. Just a few more minutes of steady retreat by Sati’s men and the Meluhans would have marched forward far enough for Shiva to ride out behind them and destroy their formations.

Shiva observed the battle raging in the distance. His eyes fell on the Meluhan chariots on the side of the tortoise formations, providing protection to their flanks. Each chariot had a charioteer to steer the horses and a warrior to engage in combat. The two-man team allowed for frightening speed and brutal force. These chariots could stall the impending charge of Shiva’s cavalry.

‘I want your elephants to take out those chariots. Now,’ he ordered the Vasudev brigadier.

The Vasudev brigadier turned to his mahouts, quickly relaying the orders.

The elephants raced out at a fearsome pace, making the ground rumble with their charge. The Meluhan warriors on the chariots confidently observed the elephants approach. They immediately relieved their charioteers of the reins of their horses, who in turn pulled out drums stored for just such an occasion. The Meluhans still remembered the battles against Chandravanshi elephants. Loud noises from drums always disturbed the giant animals, making them run amuck, often crushing their own army. But these beasts had been trained by the Vasudevs to tolerate sudden loud sounds. Much to the shock of the Meluhan charioteers, the elephants continued their charge.

Seeing their tactic fail, they immediately abandoned the drums and took up the reins of their horses. The warriors pulled out their spears and readied themselves for battle. The Meluhan chariots moved quickly as the Vasudev elephants drew near, weaving around the pachyderms as they charged, throwing their spears at the giant beasts, hoping to injure or at least slow them down. But the elephants were prepared. There were massive metallic balls tied to their trunks. The elephants swung their trunks expertly, smashing the metallic balls into the bodies of the horses and the charioteers. Some of the Meluhans were fortunate enough to die instantly, but others had the balls smash through their bones, leaving them alive to suffer in agony. And as if this wasn’t bad enough, a second surprise was in store for the Meluhan charioteers. All of a sudden, fire spewed out of the elephant howdahs!

The Vasudevs had fitted their elephants with machines designed by their engineers. Two Vasudev soldiers kept pushing the levers, shooting out an almost continuous stream of flames which burned all in its path. The few unfortunate Meluhan chariots that did not get burned were stamped out of existence under massive elephant feet. The chariot corps of the Meluhans was no match for the Vasudev elephants.

Shiva drew his sword and held it high. He turned to his cavalry, and shouted over the din, ‘Ride hard into the rear of those formations! Charge into them! Destroy them!’

Even as Shiva’s cavalry thundered out, Sati was playing her part perfectly. Her soldiers had been progressively stepping back, drawing the Meluhans farther and farther away into the open, exposing a massive breach between the rear of their tortoise formations and the fort walls. To maintain the credibility of the tactic and keep the Meluhans engaged in battle, Sati’s soldiers were not running away in haste but continuing to fight, taking many casualties in the process. Sati herself had also been seriously injured, having been struck on both the shoulder and thigh. But she battled on. She knew she couldn’t afford to fail. Her forces’ success in their task was crucial to their overall victory.

Shiva’s cavalry rode hard, in a great arc around the main battlefront. He could see the Vasudev elephants and the Meluhan chariots clashing on his right. Practically decimated, the chariots could not ride out to meet the new threat from the cavalry. Shiva rode fast, unchallenged, till he reached the unprotected rear of the Meluhan tortoise formations.

‘Jai Shri Ram!’ thundered Shiva.

‘Har Har Mahadev!’ bellowed his cavalry, kicking their horses hard.

Shiva’s three thousand strong cavalry charged into the Meluhans. Locked into their formation as they faced the opposite side, weighed down by immensely heavy spears, they were unable to turn around. Shiva’s mounted soldiers cut through the Meluhan tortoise corps, hacking away with their long swords. Within moments of this brutal attack, the Meluhan formations started breaking. Some soldiers surrendered while others simply ran away. By the time Vidyunmali, who was fighting at the head of his army, received the news of the decimation of his troops towards his rear, it was already too late. The Meluhans had been outflanked and defeated.