CHAPTER 43

“WHO IS THE BIKSHU?”

Even the Emperor’s sharp command to tell him the whereabouts of the bikshu could not quite keep Gundodharan from shivering from the scare of the poisoned dagger.

“I – I locked him inside the temple’s madaippalli, Sire,” he stammered.

“Excellent. We should be on our way, then. Come, lead us to the village,” answered the Emperor.

“Sire, must we?” observed Sathrugnan, his voice filled with worry. “Our work here is done, after all. Gundodharan can take care of the bikshu the way he should be. We would do better to be on our way.”

“Not really, Sathrugna. Something else needs to be done, something that is far more important than just halting the Vathapi invasion,” the Emperor countered. “Imprisoning the traitor Dhurvineedhan was no great task – but capturing Naganandhi is. If we accomplish this, we would have almost won the war.”

“If that was truly the case, Sire, why wait so long to capture him? We could have done this at Aayanar’s home!”

“There were certain tasks that I needed accomplished; it was necessary for the bikshu to have his freedom all this while. Leaving him out and about anymore would lead to disaster.”

“Sire, consign the bikshu to us; Gundodharan and I will take care of him. Please leave right away. Kannabiraan awaits your arrival, with your chariot on the opposite shore.”

“I am afraid not, Sathrugna. This is a task of such delicacy that I dare not entrust it even to your capable hands,” said the Emperor. “Gundodhara, lead the way!”

Sathrugnan said no more. The trio made their way swiftly across the boulder-strewn landscape; by the time dawn broke over the heavens, they had breached Mandapapattu’s boundaries, and touched upon the temple walls. Jumping inside the sacred precincts was an easy task, and they approached the madaippalli without difficulty.

It was with some pride that Gundodharan walked to the door, and unlocked it. The three men entered the room – to find it empty.

They looked into every corner, but found nothing. When they directed their gazes upwards, they found a few strategically placed tiles removed from the roof. Obviously, this was how the bikshu had made his escape.

“I suspected as much,” commented Mahendra Pallavar. “Now do you see why I did not trust you with the task of imprisoning the bikshu?”

“Did you listen to the Emperor’s words, Gundodhara? You’ve brought down unimaginable disgrace on the heads of all Pallava Spies,” Sathrugnan voiced his displeasure.

“Master, I shall make sure that I atone for it, completely. Please entrust the snake-handled dagger to me. The bikshu ought to still be within the village. Should I not find him within the space of a day and thrust this dagger in his treacherous heart, I shall plunge it into myself, and end my life!” vowed Gundodharan.

Even as Sathrugnan made as if to hand the knife to Gundodharan, Mahendra Pallavar intervened, and took possession of it.

“Kindly do not make such silly pledges in the future, Gundodhara,” the Emperor admonished. “You could not possibly plunge this dagger into the bikshu. His body is as hard as vajram – all you would accomplish is perhaps denting it. And if, by some miracle, you did thrust it into him, it would have no effect. The poison in this blade is incapable of affecting him.”

“But – how could that possibly be, Sire?” queried Sathrugnan. “Is the bikshu a magician, perhaps? Is it possible that even you have begun to believe in such tricks?”

“Magic and sleight-of-hand? Absolutely not. But poison cannot counter, poison, can it? The blood that runs in the bikshu’s veins is tainted with venom. That great man has spent years ingesting so many poisonous herbs, that his very body is now a fatal object!”

“Ayyo, how horrible!” exclaimed Sathrugnan.

“The moment the bikshu arrives at any place, poisonous snakes will slither away in fear, at his mere presence.”

“I have seen such things too,” Gundodharan shuddered. “Only now do I know the reason for it!”

“Do you remember the terrible, snake-infested cave we found on the banks of the Kedila River, Sathrugna?”

“Indeed, Sire, how could I forget?”

“Did you ever discover its secret?”

“I tried very hard, Sire – but no, I could not.”

“I shall unveil its terrible motive. Should it prove impossible to take the city by force, its purpose would be to release poison into Kanchi’s drinking-water canals.”

“Good god – such vengeance, such fury!” said Sathrugnan, clearly horrified. “And all this in the name of Lord Buddha, who is graciousness personified. I can scarcely believe it!”

“Unbelievable, yes – but then, the bikshu is not really one, is he? The monk merely happens to be an excellent spy, wearing saffron-clothes and using Buddhist sangams for his own nefarious purposes.”

“And yet, you ordered us not to kill such a rogue, a traitor who would stop at nothing to achieve his ends.”

“No purpose would be served in killing him. If we could imprison him, however – ah, he would prove to be an excellent bargaining tool, in our war against Pulikesi.”

“Sire, who is the bikshu?” asked Sathrugnan.

“I have my suspicions, but more I cannot tell you – not until I can confirm certain facts for myself. Sathrugna, you and your disciple have done a great many things for this Empire – but what I am about to trust you to do, is far greater than what you have ever accomplished. Should you carry out my instructions to the letter, we shall emerge victorious. What do you say?”

“Your wish is our command, Your Majesty. We shall be honoured to do so.” 

Dawn spread her bright, sunlit fingers over the skies. Panneer flowers, blossoming on the tree branches, unfurled their soft petals, their delicate perfume filling the air.

The moon, thus far a golden orb, had lost his brilliance, and assumed the hue of a white, translucent lotus, and was sinking fast to the west.

In the light of an early sun, and a fresh, pleasant morning, Mahendra Pallavar sat down on the steps of the temple madaippalli, and bade Sathrugnan and Gundodharan take their places beside him.

He began to describe his plans for them – and the spies gave all their attention to him.