Birth is completely unimportant. It is just a means of entry into this world of action, into this karmabhoomi. Karma is all that matters. And your karma is divine.'

Sita smiled. Ram was about to say something when the attendant came rushing in with the salt. Ram added some to his food and resumed eating as the attendant retreated from the room.

You were saying something,' said Sita.

Yes,' said Ram, I think that...'

Ram was interrupted again, this time by the doorkeeper announcing loudly, The chief of the Malayaputras, the Saptrishi Uttradhikari, the protector of the way of the Vishnus, Maharishi Vishwamitra.'

Sita frowned and looked at Ram. Ram shrugged, clearly conveying he did not know what this visit was about.

Ram and Sita rose as Vishwamitra entered the room, followed by Arishtanemi. Sita gestured to her attendant to get some washing bowls for Ram and herself.

We have a problem,' said Vishwamitra, not feeling the need to exchange pleasantries.

What happened, Guruji?' asked Ram.

Raavan is mobilising for an attack.'

Ram frowned. But he doesn't have an army. What's he going to do with ten thousand bodyguards? He can't hold a city of even Mithila's size with that number. All he'll achieve is getting his men killed in battle.'

Raavan is not a logical man,' proffered Vishwamitra. His ego is hurt. He may lose his bodyguard corps, but he will wreak havoc on Mithila.'

Ram looked at Sita, who shook her head with irritation and addressed Vishwamitra. Why in Lord Rudra's name was that demon invited for the swayamvar? I know it was not my father.'

Vishwamitra took a deep breath as his eyes softened. That's water under the bridge, Sita. The question is, what are we going to do now?'

What is your plan, Guruji?'

I have with me some important material that was mined at my ashram by the Ganga. I needed it to conduct a few science experiments at Agastyakootam. This was why I had visited my ashram.'

Agastyakootam was the capital of the Malayaputras, deep in the south of India, beyond the Narmada River. In fact, it was very close to Lanka itself.

Science experiments?' asked Ram.

Yes, experiments with the daivi astras.'

Sita drew a sharp breath for she knew the power and ferocity of the divine weapons. Guruji, are you suggesting that we use daivi astras?'

Vishwamitra nodded in confirmation as Ram spoke up. But that will destroy Mithila as well.'

No, it won't. This is not a traditional daivi astra. What I have is the Asuraastra.'

Isn't that a biological weapon?' asked Ram, deeply troubled now.

Yes. Poisonous gas and a blast wave from the Asuraastra will incapacitate the Lankans, paralysing them for days on end. We can easily imprison them in that state and end this problem.'

Just paralyse, Guruji?' asked Ram. I have learnt that, in large quant.i.ties, the Asuraastra can kill as well.'

Vishwamitra knew that only one man could have possibly taught this to Ram. None of the other daivi astra experts had ever met this young man. He was immediately irritated. Do you have any better ideas?'

Ram fell silent.

But what about Lord Rudra's law?' asked Sita.

Lord Rudra, the previous Mahadev who was the Destroyer of Evil, had banned the unauthorised use of daivi astras many centuries ago. Practically everyone obeyed this diktat from the fearsome Lord Rudra. Those who broke the law he had decreed would be punished with banishment for fourteen years. Breaking the law for the second time would be punishable by death.

I don't think that law applies to the use of the Asuraastra,' said Vishwamitra. It is not a weapon of ma.s.s destruction, just ma.s.s incapacitation.'

Sita narrowed her eyes. Clearly, she wasn't convinced. I disagree. A daivi astra is a daivi astra. We cannot use it without the authorisation of the Vayuputras, Lord Rudra's tribe. I am a Lord Rudra devotee. I will not break his law.'

Do you want to surrender, then?'

Of course not! We will fight!'

Vishwamitra laughed derisively. Fight, is it? And who, please explain, will fight Raavan's hordes? The namby-pamby intellectuals of Mithila? What is the plan? Debate the Lankans to death?'

We have our police force,' said Sita quietly.

They're not trained or equipped to fight the troops of Raavan.'

We are not fighting his troops. We are fighting his bodyguard platoons. My police force is enough for them.'

They are not. And you know that.'

We will not use the daivi astras, Guruji,' said Sita firmly, her face hardening.

Ram spoke up. Samichi's police force is not alone. Lakshman and I are here, and so are the Malayaputras. We're inside the fort, we have the double walls; we have the lake surrounding the city. We can hold Mithila. We can fight.'

Vishwamitra turned to Ram with a sneer. Nonsense! We are vastly outnumbered. The double walls...' He snorted with disgust. It seems clever. But how long do you think it will take a warrior of Raavan's calibre to figure out a strategy that works around that obstacle?'

We will not use the daivi astras, Guruji,' said Sita, raising her voice. Now, if you will excuse me, I have a battle to prepare for.'

It was late at night; the fourth hour of the fourth prahar. Ram and Sita had been joined by Lakshman and Samichi on top of the Bees Quarter, close to the inner wall edge. The entire Bees Quarter complex had been evacuated as a precautionary step. The pontoon bridge that spanned the moat-lake had been destroyed.

Mithila had a force of four thousand policemen and policewomen, enough to maintain law and order for the hundred thousand citizens of the small kingdom. Notwithstanding the strategic advantage of the double walls, would they be able to thwart an attack from the Lankan bodyguards of Raavan? They were outnumbered five to two.

Ram and Sita had abandoned any plans of securing the outer wall. They wanted Raavan and his soldiers to scale it and launch an a.s.sault on the inner walls; the Lankans would, then, be trapped between the two walls, which the Mithilan arrows would convert into a killing field. They expected a volley of arrows from the other side, in preparation for which the police had been asked to carry their wooden shields, normally used for crowd control within Mithila. Lakshman had taught them some basic manoeuvres with which they could protect themselves from the arrows.

Where are the Malayaputras?' Lakshman asked Ram.

The Malayaputras had, much to Ram's surprise, not come to the battle-front. Ram whispered, I think it's just us.'

Lakshman shook his head and spat. Cowards.'

Look!' said Samichi.

Sita and Lakshman looked in the direction that Samichi had pointed. Ram, on the other hand, was drawn to something else: a hint of nervousness in Samichi's voice. Unlike Sita, she appeared troubled. Perhaps she was not as brave as Sita believed her to be. Ram turned his attention to the enemy.

Torches lined the other side of the moat-lake that surrounded the outer wall of Mithila. Raavan's bodyguards had worked feverishly through the evening, chopping down trees from the forest and building rowboats to carry them across the lake.

Even as they watched, the Lankans began to push their boats into the moat-lake. The a.s.sault on Mithila was being launched.

It's time,' said Sita.

Yes,' said Ram. We have maybe another half hour before they hit our outer wall.'

Conch sh.e.l.ls resounded through the night, by now recognised as the signature sound of Raavan and his men. As they watched in the light of the flickering flames of torches, the Lankans propped giant ladders against the outer walls of Mithila.

They are here,' said Ram. Messages were relayed quickly down the line to the Mithila police-soldiers. Ram expected a shower of arrows now from Raavan's archers. The Lankans would fire their arrows only as long as their soldiers were outside the outer wall. The shooting would stop the moment the Lankans climbed over. The archers would not risk hitting their own men.

A loud whoosh, like the sudden onrush of a gale, heralded the release of the arrows.

Shields!' shouted Sita.

The Mithilans immediately raised their shields, ready for the Lankan arrows that were about to rain down on them. But Ram was perturbed. Something about the sound troubled him. It was much stronger than the sound of a thousand arrows being fired. It sounded like something much bigger. He was right.

Huge missiles rammed through the Mithilan defences with ma.s.sive force. Desperate cries of agony mixed with sickening thuds as shields were ripped through and many in the Mithilan ranks were brought down in a flash.

What is that?' screamed Lakshman, hiding behind his shield.

Ram's wooden shield snapped into two pieces as a missile tore through it like a knife through b.u.t.ter. It missed him by a hair's breadth. Ram looked at the fallen missile.

Spears!

Their wooden shields were a protection against arrows, not large spears.

How in Lord Rudra's name are they throwing spears over this distance? It's impossible!

The first volley was over and Ram knew they had but a few minutes of respite before the next. He looked around him.

Lord Rudra, be merciful...'

The destruction was severe. At least a quarter of the Mithilans were either dead or severely injured, impaled on ma.s.sive spears that had brutally ripped through their shields and bodies.

Ram looked at Sita as he commanded, Another volley will be fired any moment! Into the houses!'

Into the houses!' shouted Sita.

Into the houses!' repeated the lieutenants, as everybody ran towards the doors, lifted them and jumped in. It was one of the most disorganised retreats ever seen, but it was effective. In a few minutes, practically every surviving Mithilan police-soldier had jumped to safety within the houses. As the doors closed, the volley of spears resumed on the roofs of the Bees Quarter. A few stragglers were killed as the rest made it to safety; for now.

Lakshman did not say anything as he looked at Ram. But his eyes sent out a clear message. This is a disaster.

What now?' Ram asked Sita. Raavan's soldiers must be scaling the outer walls. They will be upon us soon. There's no one to stop them.'

Sita was breathing hard, her eyes flitting like that of a cornered tigress, anger bursting through every pore. Samichi stood behind her princess, helplessly rubbing her forehead.

Sita?' prompted Ram.

Sita's eyes suddenly opened wide. The windows!'

What?' asked Samichi, surprised by her prime minister.

Sita immediately gathered her lieutenants around her. She ordered them to get the surviving Mithilans to break the wood-panel-sealed windows of the houses in the Bees Quarter; the ones that shared the inner wall, or opened into the narrow gaps between some of the houses; like the one they were in. Their window overlooked the ground between the two fort walls. Arrows would be fired at the charging Lankans, after all.

Brilliant!' shouted Lakshman, as he rushed to a barricaded window. He pulled back his arm, flexed his muscles, and punched hard at the wood, smashing the barricade with one mighty blow.

All the houses in this section of the Bees Quarter were internally connected through corridors. The message travelled rapidly. Within moments, the Mithilans smashed open the sealed windows and fired arrows at the Lankans, caught between the outer and inner wall. The Lankans had expected no resistance. They were effectively caught off-guard and arrows shredded through their lines. The losses were heavy. The Mithilans fired arrows without respite, killing as many of the Lankans as they could, slowing the charge dramatically.

Suddenly, the conch sh.e.l.ls sounded; but this time, they played a different tune. The Lankans immediately turned and ran, retreating as rapidly as they had arrived.

A loud cheer went up from the Mithilan quarters. They had beaten back the first attack.

Ram, Sita and Lakshman stood on the roof of the Bees Quarter as dawn broke through. The gentle rays of the sun threw into poignant contrast the harsh devastation of the Lankan spears. The damage was heart-rending.

Sita stared at the mutilated bodies of the Mithilans strewn all around her: heads hanging by a sinew to bodies, some with their guts spilled out, many simply impaled on spears, having bled to death. At least a thousand of my soldiers...'

We too have hit them hard, Bhabhi,' said Lakshman to his sister-in-law. There are at least a thousand dead Lankans lying between the inner and the outer wall.'

Sita looked at Lakshman, her usually limpid eyes now br.i.m.m.i.n.g with tears. Yes, but they have nine thousand left. We have only three thousand.'

Ram surveyed the Lankan camp on the other side of the moat-lake. Hospital-tents had been set up to tend to the injured. Many Lankans, though, were furiously at work: hacking trees and pushing the forest line farther with mathematical precision. Clearly they did not intend to retreat.

They will be better prepared next time,' said Ram. If they manage to scale the inner wall ... it's over.'

Sita placed her hand on Ram's shoulder and sighed as she stared at the ground. Ram found himself being momentarily distracted by her nearness. He looked at Sita's hand on his shoulder, then closed his eyes. He had to focus, teach his mind to re-learn the art of mastering his emotions.

Sita turned around and looked towards her city. Her eyes rested on the steeple of the ma.s.sive temple dedicated to Lord Rudra, which loomed beyond the garden of the Bees Quarter. Fierce determination blazed from her eyes, resolve pouring steel into her veins. It's not over yet. I'll call upon the citizens to join me. Even if my people stand here with kitchen knives, we will outnumber the Lankan sc.u.m ten to one. We can fight them.'

Ram could not bring himself to share her confidence.

Sita nodded, like she had made up her mind, and rushed away, signalling other Mithilans to follow her.

Chapter 25.

Where have you been, Guruji?' asked Ram, in a polite voice that belied the fury that defined his stony face and rigid body.

Vishwamitra had finally arrived in the fifth hour of the first prahar. The early morning light sharply outlined the frenetic activity in the Lankan camp. Sita was still trying to rally a citizen-army. Arishtanemi stood at a distance, strangely choosing to remain out of earshot.

Where were the Malayaputra cowards, actually?' growled Lakshman, who did not feel the need for any attempt at politeness.