Vain and covetous and thirsty for attention, Seero insisted on keeping up her ostentatious lifestyle. The populace, dazzled and thrilled by their protector’s affluence and grandeur, looked up to her more enthusiastically than before. The members of the caste society felt slighted by these exhibitions of personal glory, but finding themselves helpless under the circumstances, maintained a grim and disapproving silence.

To her husband, Seero had ceased to be a wife. Prithusen tolerated her, because in her capacity as the granddaughter of the President, she still had a place in his schemes. His mind was now preoccupied with a stratagem, one conceived by his father, of again declaring a state of war and thereby securing for himself the position of the Supreme Commander and Absolute Ruler of Madra. To that end, he was only awaiting a suitable opportunity.

Rudradhir had changed considerably during the six years, four months and six days of his exile, and this change had been noticed by his relatives and the citizens of Sagal. The warm climate of Magadh had tanned his complexion. His father had died, and the responsibility as the head of the family had given him a new seriousness in appearance and behaviour. He spoke less now. He developed a more penetrating and mature insight into life. In Magadh he had seen the re-establishment of the power of the caste system, freed from the stranglehold of the Buddhists. He had also learnt how complex and violent the process of capturing power was. He had seen the grand Buddhist monasteries reduced to rubble and ashes. He had seen the caste system resurrected and brought back to its former glory under the leadership of Commander Pushya Mitra. Carrying the same burning flame of the Brahminic sacrificial fire in his heart, he had come back, and had taken a vow to spread it once again in Madra for the redemption of the caste system.

Rudradhir saw that the caste families, frustrated by subjection, had turned their backs on matters of state administration, and withdrawing behind the walls of their palaces, were now lost in isolation. He saw that Prestha, the magnate, had become the Chairman of the Council and was running the administration in the name of the President of the Republic, who was nothing better than a living corpse. Prestha, through his cunning diplomacy, was gradually depriving the twice-born Brahmin families and the caste society of their authority.

He addressed himself to the caste families in order to alert them: ‘It is suicidal to turn away from this struggle and be content with personal safety. He who loses himself in pleasure, loses the right to pleasure, which can only be won through struggle. The so-called republican principles are nothing but a conspiracy hatched by the effeminate Buddhists to trample upon the rights of the twice-born Brahmins. The twice-born Brahmin is a portion of the divine. The exercise of power is his attribute and obligation; to rule is his right. When fire ceases to perform its function, even the insects take pride in treading upon it. The Brahmin, bereft of authority, fails in his duty. The king and his subjects are two entirely different entities. The Sudra who wants equality with the Brahmin is a downright sinner, and he brings sin upon the head of the Brahmin too. Rama, supreme among mortals, and supreme upholder of the law, by punishing Shambuk the Sudra, set the precedent for propriety of conduct. The code of punishment is the mainstay of religion.’