Chapter 21 — Rescue plans
Year 63, Kali yuga
Present day
Malasāra landed a little ways from the camp, and let Ripunjaya off his back. He quickly transformed into his hunter guise. “Like I said, finding them would be easy. And, I shall say that I happened to chance upon you on the riverbank, by some divine means. Play along, boy.”
Ripunjaya nodded, and began to walk towards the camp, Malasāra behind him. Sounds of men filtered through the trees. Ripunjaya brushed aside low branches, following the voices. Suddenly he came face to face with the tip of a spear, and stopped short.
Holding the spear was a slim young man, his face covered in dark clay and torso in thick leaves. Ripunjaya put his hands up, and slowly turned around. Three other men in similar clay-smeared faces surrounded them. He recognised none of them.
“We come in peace, soldier. We look for Mārthāndan.”
The men narrowed their eyes at the mention of their leader, and one of them spoke up. “Who are you, hunter?”
“A dear friend of his.” Malasāra replied. He lowered his hands. “Hasten, soldier, we are in much hurry.”
The man removed his spear from Ripunjaya’s throat. He nodded at one of the men, and the soldier began to walk to the camp, still glancing back now and then. They stood in silence, with the soldiers not taking their eyes off Malasāra and Ripunjaya.
“Ripunjaya! Malasāra!” a loud voice called out. Mārthāndan strode into view, surprise and relief writ large on his face. “You are alive! My heart grows warm at your sight!” He pulled Ripunjaya into a tight embrace. “Tell me! What happened? How did you survive? How did you find your way here?” Mārthāndan shook Ripunjaya by his shoulders. He turned to Malasāra. “Brother! You turn up yet again! Did you rescue him? How did you find him?” He beamed, his joy was sincere.
Ripunjaya smiled weakly back, and turned to Malasāra for answers. Malasāra looked up at the sky and raised both his hands, eyes closed. “The Supreme Lord Sivan plays yet more fascinating games with us. I was tracking a troublesome leopard that was taking goats from the farms in the nearby villages. It had been a few days, and it had managed to avoid all the traps I had laid for it. I headed deep into the forests to try and lure the beast out, but I found no leopard, but instead I came across a lone doe, with no sign of its herd. I decided to hunt it for its fine pelt. I started towards it, but it did not seem to want to run away. It calmly looked at me, and started to walk away, and kept looking back in my direction now and then. I decided to follow it, and it eventually came to a river, and on the bank—the doe disappeared, but whom should I find but our dear old Ripunjaya!”
“Y—yes! I do not remember what had happened...I recall falling into the river, and I woke up to Malasāra pulling me out of the water.”
“And not a scar! Thank the Gods!” Mārthāndan looked up and down at Ripunjaya. “Were you hurt, son?”
“Nothing but minor bruises.”
“The world grows stranger still! Sivan himself must have sent that divine doe! Maybe it is not yet the age of Kali!” exclaimed Mārthāndan.
“What of the army? What happened at the battlefield?” asked Ripunjaya, eager to change the topic.
Mārthāndan brushed his great moustache. “After you were washed away by the great river, I was about to jump into the water after you. But the soldiers needed me more than you. I couldn’t abandon all my men there on the field to rescue you. It was a hard choice, but the right one. I rallied the ones who were alive, and the remaining horses, and by some divine miracle, we made it to the hills.”
“How many of us are here?” asked Ripunjaya.
Mārthāndan hung his head in dejection. His voice shook. “We lost half in the skirmish, and more on the way here. We have but ninety men in this camp. Only two dozen of the ūsippadai, and the remaining are Vagaimāran’s men.”
“Did he also make it here?”
“Indeed. He leads a small mission as we speak, to scout the capital. He has a larger camp with his trusted men, further up the hill. Come, come!” Mārthāndan gestured, and began striding back into the camp. “How did you find us?” he asked, turning back briefly.
“I could track a mouse through tall grass, brother.” Malasāra replied. “Panicked men hacking through a dense forest I could with my eyes shut.”
“Didn’t their army follow us here?” asked Ripunjaya.
“No. The hilly terrain makes it difficult for a large unwieldy army to pursue us. If Semmaḷvarāyan wants our heads, he will send a smaller, more agile force. But we are hidden and safe, at least for now. They would have to find us first.”
“What is our course of action now?”
Mārthāndan closed his hand into a fist. “We have to retake the palace. And send that vile Semmaḷvarāyan to hell.”
How lightly men speak of Hell, Malasāra mused. “And how do you plan to do that?”
“Come with me.” Mārthāndan replied. They walked deeper into the camp. Shoddy tents made from branches and plantain leaves were put up around a small clearing. A few men poked their heads out, many of them injured and covered in cloth bandages. They continued to the far end of the camp, where a small group of men were gathered, discussing in hushed tones. A few turned, and one of them jumped up. “Ripunjaya!” the man cried, and came running towards them. “You are alive!”
“Ilarāya!” Ripunjaya embraced the captain. “And you as well!”
“By the benevolence of Skandan.” Ilarāyan shook his head. “Many of our comrades did not share our fortunes.”
They joined the knot of men, who stood over a crude drawing of the Karkōttai palace in the sand. Vagaimāran stood at the other end of the circle, and noticed Ripunjaya. “Aha! The boy lives!” he exclaimed. “Mārthāndan was the picture of woe at your apparent drowning. How did you survive, do tell!”
“I—” Ripunjaya froze. Lying is not easy.
Malasāra interjected. “By the grace of Siva. And his good karma.” he smirked inwardly. Ripunjaya smiled weakly.
Vagaimāran narrowed his brows. “And who might you be, hunter?”
“A friend from the past.” replied Malasāra, nodding at Mārthāndan.
“Friends we certainly do need.” Vagaimāran nodded, and turned back to his men. “The new moon is a few days away, it will be dark and cloudy tonight. Go prepare, men.”
The captains left, save Ilarāyan. Ripunjaya turned to Mārthāndan. “What are we planning?”
“Tonight, we save the royal family. We must retrieve Kumudhan, Vēndhān and the princess Vaḷli. I am sure Semmaḷvarāyan would use them as pawns in whatever designs he has planned, rescuing them will relieve him of those options.” Mārthāndan stood, scratched his chin, staring absently at the ground.
“Only a rescue?”
“Yes. We cannot retake the palace, we do not have enough men. The bulk of our army is spread across the land in our campaigns. They would take weeks to return, and time is something we cannot afford.”
“Semmaḷvarāyan did pick an excellent time to attack.” Ilarāyan said.
“Indeed. That is what is worrying—the timing could mean that Thiruvāsagan truly did help Semmaḷvarāyan. But that matters not—we go tonight, and bring the royal family to safety. We have one of my men working in the palace kitchens, Kuppan. We were able to send word to him of our plans, he will let us into the palace at an hour after midnight.” Mārthāndan then turned to Malasāra. “Ah, Malā, you still are a hunter, yes?” laughed Mārthāndan. “Ilarāyan could use your help with snaring some game, we need to feed the men.”
Malasāra nodded, and walked away at a brisk pace with Ilarāyan.
“And you, come with me.” Mārthāndan and Ripunjaya walked to a small tent that was a bit larger and set a little further aside from the rest. They entered, and Mārthāndan pointed to a small mattress made of coarse coir and leaves. “Get some rest here. We have a long night ahead of us. I shall come wake you when it is time.” Mārthāndan embraced Ripunjaya. “Glad to see you still alive, son.”
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