Vishwamitra cast Lakshman a withering look before addressing Ram. Someone has to be the adult here and do what must be done.'

Ram frowned.

Come with me,' said Vishwamitra.

In a hidden section of the roof of the Bees Quarter, far from the scene of the Lankan attack, Ram finally confronted what the Malayaputras had been busy with all night: the Asuraastra.

A simple weapon to configure, it had still taken a long time to set up. Vishwamitra and his Malayaputras had worked through the night, in minimal light. The missile and its launch stand were finally a.s.sembled and ready. The stand was a little taller than Lakshman and was made of wood. The outer body of the missile was made of lead. Its components, along with the core material that had been mined at the Ganga ashram, had been brought along by Vishwamitra and his party to Mithila. The core material was now loaded in the detonation chamber.

The missile was ready but Ram was unsure.

He looked across the outer wall.

The Lankans were hard at work, clearing the forest. They were building something.

What are those people doing at the far end of the forest line?' asked Lakshman.

Look closely,' said Vishwamitra.

A group of Lankans were working with planks fashioned from the trees that had been cut. At first Lakshman thought they were building boats, but a careful examination proved him wrong. They were linking these planks into giant rectangular shields with st.u.r.dy handles on the sides as well as at the base end. Each shield was capable of protecting twenty men, if they were lined up two abreast.

Tortoise shields,' said Ram.

Yes,' said Vishwamitra. They will return once they build enough of these. They will break the outer wall without any resistance from us; why scale it? They will move towards our inner wall, protected by their tortoise shields. Successive waves of attacks will breach our walls. You know what will be done to the city. Even the rats will not be spared.'

Ram stood quietly. He knew that Vishwamitra was right. They could see that fifteen or twenty of these ma.s.sive shields were already ready. The Lankans had worked at a prodigious pace. An attack was imminent, probably as early as tonight. Mithila would certainly not be ready.

You need to understand that firing the Asuraastra is the only solution available,' said Vishwamitra. Fire it right now, when they're still not ready, and are farthest away from the city. Once they launch the attack and breach the outer wall, we will not be able to do even this, without risking Mithila; the detonation would be too close.'

Ram stared at the Lankans.

This is the only way!

Why don't you fire the weapon, Guruji?' asked Lakshman, sarcasm dripping from his voice.

I am a Malayaputra; the leader of the Malayaputras,' said Vishwamitra. The Vayuputras and the Malayaputras work in partnership, just as the Vishnus and the Mahadevs did over millennia. I cannot break the Vayuputra law.'

But my brother choosing to do so is okay?'

You can also choose to die. That option is always available,' Vishwamitra said caustically. Then he turned and spoke to Ram directly, So, what will it be, Ram?'

Ram turned around and looked in the direction of the Mithila palace, where Sita was probably trying desperately to convince her reluctant citizens to fight.

Vishwamitra stepped close to the prince of Ayodhya. Ram, Raavan will probably torture and kill every single person in this city. The lives of a hundred thousand Mithilans are at stake. Your wife's life is at stake. Will you, as a husband, protect your wife or not? Will you take a sin upon your soul for the good of others? What does your dharma say?'

I will do it for Sita.

We will warn them first,' said Ram. Give them a chance to retreat. I have been told that even the Asuras followed this protocol before firing any daivi astra.'

Fine.'

And if they don't heed our warning,' said Ram, his fingers wrapping themselves around his Rudraaksh pendant, as if for strength, then I will fire the Asuraastra.'

Vishwamitra smiled with satisfaction, as though Ram's compliance was a trophy he had just earned.

The giant bear-man moved among the men, checking the tortoise shields. He heard the arrow a second before it slammed into the plank of wood close to his feet. He looked up in surprise.

Who in Mithila can fire an arrow that could travel this distance with such unerring accuracy?

He stared at the walls. All he could make out were two very tall men standing close to the inner wall, and a third, a trifle shorter. The third man held a bow; he seemed to be staring directly at him.

The bear-man immediately stepped forward to examine the arrow that had buried itself into the tortoise shield. It had a piece of parchment tied around its shaft. He yanked it out and untied the note.

You actually believe they will do this, k.u.mbhakarna?' asked Raavan, snorting with disgust as he threw the note away.

Dada,' said the bear-man, his voice booming even at its lowest amplitude, due to his ma.s.sive vocal chords. If they fire an Asuraastra, it could be-'

They don't have an Asuraastra,' interrupted Raavan. They're bluffing.'

But Dada, the Malayaputras do have-'

Vishwamitra is bluffing, k.u.mbhakarna!'

k.u.mbhakarna fell silent.

They haven't retreated an inch,' said Vishwamitra, with urgency. We need to fire the weapon.'

By the end of the third hour of the second prahar, the sun had risen high enough to afford good visibility. Three hours earlier, Ram had shot the warning message to the Lankans. It had clearly made no impact.

The Malayaputras had already rolled the missile tower to the section of the rooftop that faced the main body of the Lankan troops.

We gave them a warning of one hour,' continued Vishwamitra. We have waited for three. They probably think we are bluffing by now.'

Lakshman looked at Vishwamitra. Don't you think we should check with Sita Bhabhi, first? She had clearly said that-'

Vishwamitra suddenly interrupted Lakshman. Look!'

Lakshman and Ram immediately turned in the direction Vishwamitra had pointed.

Are they boarding their boats?' asked Ram.

They could be testing them,' said Lakshman, hoping against hope. In which case, we still have some time.'

Do you think we should take that chance, Ram?' asked Vishwamitra.

Ram did not move a muscle.

We need to fire now!' said Vishwamitra, forcefully.

Ram lifted his bow from his shoulders, brought it close to his ear, and plucked the bowstring. Perfect.

Bravo!' said Vishwamitra.

Lakshman glared at the maharishi. He touched his brother's shoulder. Dada...'

Ram turned around and began walking away. Everyone followed him. Most daivi astras were fired from a distance by shooting a flaming arrow into a target on the launch pad. This protected the people igniting the weapon from getting incinerated in the initial launch explosion of the missile. Only a skilled archer could fire an arrow from a great distance and hit a target that was no larger than a fruit.

Vishwamitra halted Ram when they reached a distance of over five hundred metres from the Asuraastra stand. That's enough, Prince of Ayodhya.'

Arishtanemi handed him an arrow. Ram sniffed its tip; it had been coated with a combustible paste. He examined the fletching and was momentarily surprised. Arishtanemi had, clearly, used one of Ram's own arrows. He didn't stop to think too deeply if Arishtanemi had learnt Ram's secret of the spinning arrow. This was not the time. He nodded to Arishtanemi and faced the missile launch tower.

Dada...' murmured Lakshman. He was visibly distressed at what he knew would take an immense toll on his law-abiding brother.

Step back, Lakshman,' said Ram, as he flexed forward to stretch his back. Lakshman, Vishwamitra and Arishtanemi moved away. Ram slowed down his breathing without forcing the process; it reduced his heart rate in tandem. He stared at the missile launch tower as his mind drowned out the sounds around him. He squeezed his eyes as the rhythm of time slowed down, as if to keep pace with his heart beats; everything around him seemed to shift into slow motion. A crow flew over the Asuraastra tower, flapping its wings as it attempted to fly higher. Ram followed the movement of the crow's wings. It seemed to require less effort for the bird to gain height; it had wind beneath its wings.

Ram's mind processed this new information: the wind was blowing leftwards close to the tower. He flicked his thumb on the arrow tip and the flames burst through. He shifted his hand to hold the arrow by its fletching. He nocked it on the bowstring, allowing the shaft to rest between his left thumb and forefinger as his hand gripped the bow firmly. Ram tipped the bow slightly upwards, factoring in the parabolic movement that the arrow would need. Arishtanemi knew this was unorthodox; the angle of the arrow was a lot lower than he would have kept. But he was also aware of Ram's immense talent with the bow and arrow; and, of course, of the brilliant design of the arrow fletching. He did not say a word.

Ram took aim and focused on the target; it was a pineapple-sized red square, over five hundred metres away. The waving windsock next to the target was within his concentration zone; all else faded into nothingness. The sock had been pointing left, but it suddenly drooped completely. The wind had stopped.

Ram pulled the string back in that instant, but held steady. His forearm was at a slight angle upwards from the ground, his elbow aligned with the arrow, the weight of the bow transferred to the back muscle. His forearm was rigid, the bowstring touching his lips. The bow was stretched to its maximum capacity, the flaming arrowhead now touching his left hand. The windsock remained slumped. Ram released the arrow, flicking the fletching as he did, making the arrow spin rapidly as it sped forward. The spin made it face less wind resistance. Arishtanemi savoured the archery skill on display; it was almost poetic. This was why Ram could fire the arrow at a lower height despite the distance. The parabola was sharper as the arrow moved at a faster pace, the spin maintaining its fearsome speed as it tore through the air.

k.u.mbhakarna saw the flaming arrow being released by the archer. His instincts kicked in as he turned around, screaming loudly. Dada!'

He charged towards his brother; Raavan stood at the ma.s.sive door of the Pushpak Vimaan.

The arrow slammed into the small red square on the Asuraastra tower, pushing it backwards instantly. The fire from the arrow was captured in a receptacle behind the red square, and then it spread rapidly into the fuel chamber that powered the missile. In a flash, the initial launch explosions of the Asuraastra were heard. A few seconds later, heavy flames gathered near the base of the missile and then rose, steadily picking up pace.

k.u.mbhakarna threw his weight on his brother, who went flying backwards into the Pushpak Vimaan.

The Asuraastra flew in a mighty arc, covering the distance across the walls of Mithila in a few short seconds. None on the roof of the Mithila Bees Quarter could tear their eyes away from the spectacle. As the missile flew high above the moat-lake, there was a small, almost inaudible explosion, like that of a fire cracker meant for a child.

Lakshman's awe was quickly replaced by disappointment. He frowned. That's it? Is that the famed Asuraastra?'

Vishwamitra answered laconically. Cover your ears.'

k.u.mbhakarna, meanwhile, rose from the floor of the Pushpak Vimaan even as Raavan lay sprawled inside. He rushed to the door and hit the metallic b.u.t.ton on the sidewall with his full body weight. The door of the Pushpak Vimaan began to slide as the bear-man watched, straining his muscles as if to lend it speed.

The Asuraastra hovered above the Lankans and exploded with an ear-shattering boom that shook the very walls of Mithila. Many Lankan soldiers felt their eardrums burst, sucking the air from their mouths. But this was only a prelude to the devastation that would follow.

Even as an eerie silence followed the explosion, the spectators on the Mithila rooftop saw a bright green flash of light emerge from where the missile had splintered. It burst with furious intensity as it hit the Lankans below like a flash of lightning. They stayed rooted, stunned into a temporary paralytic immobility. Fragments of the exploded missile showered on them mercilessly.

k.u.mbhakarna saw the flash of green light as the door of the Pushpak Vimaan slid shut. Even as the door sealed and locked automatically, saving those inside the flying vehicle from any further damage by the Asuraastra, k.u.mbhakarna collapsed, unconscious. Raavan rushed to his younger brother, screaming loudly.

By the great Lord Rudra,' whispered Lakshman, cold fear having gripped his heart. He looked at his brother, similarly staggered by what he was witnessing.

It's not over,' warned Vishwamitra.

A dreadful hissing sound became suddenly audible, like the battle-cry of a gigantic snake. Simultaneously, the fragments of the Asuraastra missile that had fallen to the ground emitted demonic clouds of green gas, which spread like a shroud over the stupefied Lankans.

What is that?' asked Ram.

That gas,' said Vishwamitra, is the Asuraastra.'

The deathly, thick gas gently enveloped the Lankans. It would put them in a coma that would last for days, if not weeks. It would possibly kill some of them. But there were no screams, no cries for mercy. None made an attempt to escape. They simply lay on the ground, motionless, waiting for the fiendish Asuraastra to push them into oblivion. The only sound in the otherwise grim silence was the hiss...

Ram touched his Rudraaksh pendant, his heart benumbed.

An agonising fifteen minutes later, Vishwamitra turned to Ram. It's done.'

Sita bounded up the stairway of the Bees Quarter, three steps at a time. She had been pa.s.sionately conversing with the citizens of Mithila in the market square when she heard the explosion and saw the sudden flash in the sky. She had immediately known that the Asuraastra had been fired. She knew she had to rush back.

She first encountered Arishtanemi and the Malayaputras, standing in a huddle, away from Vishwamitra, Ram and Lakshman. A grim-faced Samichi followed Sita.

Who shot it?' demanded Sita.

Arishtanemi just stepped aside, and Ram came into Sita's view, the only one holding a bow.

Sita cursed loudly as she ran towards her husband; she knew that he must be shattered. Ram, with his moral clarity and obsession with the law, would have been hurting inside at the sin he had been forced to commit. Forced by his sense of duty towards his wife and her people.

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 to say anything. She ran right up to her husband and embraced him. A shocked Ram dropped his bow. He had never been embraced by Sita. He knew that she was trying to comfort him. Yet, as he held his hands to the side, his heartbeat started picking up. The emotional overload drained him of energy as he felt a solitary tear trickle down his face.

Sita pulled her head back as she held Ram and looked deep into his empty eyes. Her face was creased with concern. I am with you, Ram.'

Ram remained silent. Strangely, a long-forgotten image entered his mind: of the arya concept of Emperor Prithu; Prithvi, the earth, had been named after him. Prithu had spoken of the ideal human archetype of the aryaputra, a gentleman', and the aryaputri, a lady', a prototypical human partnership of two strong individuals, who didn't compete for exact equality but were complementary, completing each other. Two souls that were dependent on each other, giving each other purpose; two halves of a whole.

Ram felt like an aryaputra, being held, being supported, by his lady.

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. Paradise.

Sita looked over her husband's shoulder and glared at Vishwamitra. It was a fearsome look, like the wrathful fury of the Mother G.o.ddess.

Vishwamitra glared right back, unrepentant.

A loud sound disturbed them all. They looked beyond the walls of Mithila. Raavan's Pushpak Vimaan was sputtering to life. Its giant rotor blades had begun to spin. Within moments they picked up speed and the flying vehicle rose from the earth, hovering just a few feet above the ground. Then, with a great burst of sound and energy, it soared into the sky; away from Mithila, and the devastation of the Asuraastra.

Chapter 26.