‘What’s the big deal if so many police officers died? It’s their job to protect us. And die for us. It isn’t as if they are doing this for free. What do we pay taxes for? Speaking of taxes, Lanka apparently has much lower tax rates …’
‘I think we should negotiate with the Lankans. Let’s vote on that …’
At the end of her tether, Sita had even asked Janak and Urmila to help her rouse the citizenry. Janak, respected as a saintly figure by the Mithilans, tried his best to urge them to fight. To no avail. Urmila, popular among the women, had no impact either.
Sita’s fists were clenched tight. She was about to launch into an angry tirade against the cowardly citizenry when she felt a hand on her shoulder. She turned around to find Samichi standing there.
Sita quickly pulled her aside. ‘Well, where are they?’
Samichi had been dispatched to find Vishwamitra or Arishtanemi. Sita refused to believe that the Malayaputras would abandon her at a time like this, especially when her city was threatened with annihilation. She was sure they knew she would die with her city. And she also knew that her survival mattered to them.
‘I have searched everywhere, Sita,’ said Samichi. ‘I can’t find them anywhere.’
Sita looked down and cursed under her breath.
Samichi swallowed hard. ‘Sita …’
Sita looked at her friend.
‘I know you don’t want to hear this, but we’re left with no choice. We must negotiate with the Lankans. If we can get Lord Raavan to …’
Sita’s eyes flared up in anger. ‘You will not say such things in my …’
Sita stopped mid-sentence as a loud sound was heard from the Bees Quarter.
There were some explosions from a section of the roof of the Bees Quarter, hidden from where the battle with the Lankans had taken place just a few hours ago. A few seconds later, a small missile flew up from the same section. It sped off in a mighty arc, moving farther and farther away in a few short seconds. Towards the city moat, where Sita knew the Lankans were camped.
Everyone in the market square was transfixed, their eyes glued in the same direction. But none had any idea of what had just happened. None, except Sita.
She immediately understood what the Malayaputras had been up to all night. What they had been preparing. What they had done.
The Asuraastra.
As the missile flew high above the moat-lake, there was a flash of a minor detonation. The Asuraastra hovered for an instant above the Lankan camp. And then exploded dramatically.
The spectators in Mithila saw a bright green flash of light emerge from the splintered missile. It burst with furious intensity, like a flash of lightning. Fragments of the exploded missile were seen falling down.
As they witnessed this terrifying scene play out in the sky, the ear-shattering sound of the main explosion shook the very walls of Mithila. Right up to the market square where the citizens had been debating themselves to paralysis a few moments back.
The Mithilans covered their ears in shock. Some began to pray for mercy.
An eerie silence fell on the gathering. Many cowering Mithilans looked around in dazed confusion.
But Sita knew Mithila had been saved. She also knew what would follow. Devastation had fallen on Raavan and his fellow Lankans. They would be paralysed. In a deep state of coma. For days, if not weeks. Some of them would even die.
But her city was safe. It had been saved.
After the reversal at the battle of the Bees Quarter, perhaps this had been the only way to stop Raavan’s hordes.
As relief coursed through her veins, she whispered softly, ‘Lord Rudra, bless the Malayaputras and Guru Vishwamitra.’
Then, like a bolt from the blue, her elation suddenly evaporated. Raw panic entered her heart.
Who had fired the Asuraastra?
She knew that an Asuraastra had to be fired from a substantial distance. And only an extremely capable archer could do so successfully. There were just three people in Mithila right now who could shoot an arrow from the distance required to ignite and launch an Asuraastra. Vishwamitra, Arishtanemi and …
Ram … Please … No … Lord Rudra, have mercy.
Sita began sprinting towards the Bees Quarter. Followed by Samichi and her bodyguards.
Chapter 24
Sita bounded up the stairway of the Bees Quarter, three steps at a time. A grim-faced Samichi followed close behind. She was up on the roof in no time. Even from the distance, she could see the devastation in the Lankan camp. Thousands lay prone on the ground. Deathly silent. Demonic clouds of green viscous gas had spread like a shroud over the paralysed Lankans.
There was not a whisper in the air. The humans had fallen silent. So had the animals. The birds had stopped chirping. The trees did not stir. Even the wind had died down. All in sheer terror of the fiendish weapon that had just been unleashed.
The only sound was a steady, dreadful hiss, like the battle-cry of a gigantic snake. It was the sound of the thick viscous green gas that continued to be emitted from the fragments of the exploded Asuraastra missile that had fallen to the ground.
Sita held her Rudraaksh pendant in fear. Lord Rudra, have mercy.
She saw Arishtanemi and the Malayaputras standing in a huddle. She ran up to them.
‘Who shot it?’ demanded Sita.
Arishtanemi merely bowed his head and stepped aside; and, Ram came into Sita’s view. Her husband was the only one holding a bow.
Vishwamitra had managed to pressure Ram into firing the Asuraastra. And thus, breaking Lord Rudra’s law.
Sita cursed loudly as she ran towards Ram.
Vishwamitra smiled as he saw her approach. ‘Sita, it is all taken care of! Raavan’s forces are destroyed. Mithila is safe!’
Sita glared at Vishwamitra, too furious for words.
She ran to her husband and embraced him. A shocked Ram dropped his bow. They had never embraced. Until now.
She held him tight. She could feel his heartbeat pick up speed. But his hands remained by his side. He did not embrace her back.
She pulled her head back and saw a solitary tear trickle down her husband’s face.
Guilt gnawed at her. She knew Ram had been forced to commit a sin. Forced due to his love for her. Forced due to his sense of duty, which compelled him to protect the innocent: The citizens of Mithila, even if they were selfish and cowardly.
She held Ram and looked deep into his empty eyes. Her face was creased with concern. ‘I am with you, Ram.’
Ram remained silent. But his expression had changed. His eyes didn’t have an empty look anymore. Instead they had a dreamy sparkle, as if he were lost in another world.
Oh Lord Rudra, give me the strength to help him. To help this magnificent man. Suffering because of me.
Sita continued to hold Ram in a tight embrace. ‘I am with you, Ram. We will handle this together.’
Ram closed his eyes. He wrapped his arms around his wife. He rested his head on her shoulder. She could hear him release a deep, long breath. Like he had found his refuge. His sanctuary.
Sita looked over her husband’s shoulder and glared at Vishwamitra. It was a fearsome look, like the wrathful fury of the Mother Goddess.