The Aryavarta Chronicles Kurukshetra: Book 3 by Krishna Udayasankar Read Free Book Online Page A

Dhritarasthra and some of the elders. Govinda too remained sitting. Syoddhan read it as the last show of defiance by a cornered man. He said, ‘You only make my decisions easier, for I see now that I must destroy you before you destroy all of Aryavarta and our way of life. On your head be it, Govinda. War. And I doubt future generations will applaud you for bringing it to us.’
    When Govinda spoke his voice seemed to ring through the hall. ‘Do you know why they call the single dot, the losing throw at dice, “kali”? Because the greatest force in the universe is Time. It’s greater than every probability, every wager, beyond the comprehension of skill. It’s inevitable, because it’s inexorable. It is time, Syoddhan, time for change.’ Grunting in an overt show of inconvenience, Govinda finally rose to his feet. He took his time to settle his robes into place, forcing the assembly to wait for his words. ‘As for our progeny cursing us for ushering in war,’ he said, ‘we’ll just have to wait and see, won’t we? Meanwhile, in the present, I do hope my friend down in your dungeons will be given the decent funeral she deserves. She was, after all, one of us.’
    Govinda walked out of the assembly, flanked by Yuyudhana and Kritavarman, Vidur following close behind. He had no doubt that the man for whom he had meant his last words had indeed heard them.
    The Secret Keeper watched the blazing pyre with regret and anger, though the second of the sentiments was not directed towards the deceased woman. She had, in his eyes, done nothing regrettable but show devotion and loyalty to the wrong man. The same man who had asked that she be given a proper funeral, as she deserved. It was, the Secret Keeper noted, a mistake on Govinda’s part. Even the lowliest prison menial who would not have thought twice about throwing Philista’s body on a pile of wood and setting it alight for no reason other than disposal and hygiene had since hesitated to remove her cadaver from the stinking dungeon in which she had been killed. When the matter had been raised to the overseer of the section, and then to the commandant of the dungeons, and from him to the palace guard, each one had refused to comply for fear that he would be seen as faithful to Govinda and thus, to the enemy.
    Finally, the Secret Keeper himself had come forward, that too in Syoddhan’s presence. After all, was it not Ghora Angirasa who had once said that the best place to hide a secret was in plain sight? As expected, the offer had been considered as motivated by compassion, not collusion, and no one had since batted an eyelid at the Secret Keeper’s actions.
    Perhaps Govinda had not made a mistake after all. He would have known that everyone would have refused to deal with Philista’s remains, leaving the Secret Keeper free to finally step in without raising suspicion. But why do so? Was it a sign that Govinda would not reveal his identity? Or did he mean to use the revelation later, as a final stroke that would turn the tide of events?
    Govinda led them all to war, of that the Secret Keeper had no doubt. It was precisely why he had chosen to part ways with the man he had once considered his most trusted friend and ally. Nothing, absolutely nothing, could compromise the task that had been left to his care, the great burden that could determine the very future of Aryavarta. Not even Govinda Shauri.

6
    ‘ READY, DARUKA ?’ GOVINDA STEPPED INTO THE STONY CLEARING where he had left Daruka, the carriage and the horses while he indulged himself in a swim in the cool, swirling waters of the Yamuna. It was these tempestuous waters that he had bathed and played in every day of his childhood as a village-dwelling cowherd, and to relive those moments after the morning’s events was a pleasant reprieve. ‘Daruka?’ Govinda called again, sleeking back his wet, grey-black hair. The horses were there, but were visibly restless and their nostrils were flared.
    As suspicion of