‘Why do you want to die as a mercenary, you fool?’ said a fellow sitting next to him, slapping him on the thigh. ‘Why don’t you just run away? Hundreds have saved their lives that way. Go away to the Republic of Katha. The feudatory chiefs don’t rule there. There, all men are equal and free.’

‘How can I run away?’ the youth replied despondently. ‘What will happen to my devoted wife, to my little boys? The priest says that the person who doesn’t obey his master will be born a dog in his next birth and will again be forced to serve his master. Haven’t I suffered enough in this life that I should wreck my next birth too?’

Licking the drops of cheap pungent wine from his lips, Marish said from among the crowd, ‘Stupid man, have you seen the next world? Has your master seen it? This belief itself makes a slave of you. You acknowledge the authority of your master over you; this is what binds you to slavery. You seek safety by running away from danger and in that lies your weakness. Danger will dog your footsteps wherever you go. Conquer danger. To be vanquished is, in itself, a sin. You will suffer the consequences the very next moment. You are a free agent. To feel the breath of freedom is life itself. The one who admits defeat is already dead, even though his body may be living. Cast off fear. Fight for life. Death is the end of fear. Live in a spirited way. Don’t be a coward!’ Marish put the wine bowl to his lips again, took a gulp and handed the bowl to the frightened youth.

Shaking off from his neck the arm of the whimpering swordsmith, Shandeya addressed Marish, ‘For whom shall we go to war? For whom shall we lay down our lives? For the glory of the feudatory chief Sarvarth? For the religious sacrifice of Acharya Pravardhan? For the Buddhist Dharma Rakshit? It’s all the same to us. He who, by reason of his past actions has to serve others, can serve anyone and everyone.’

‘You too are a fool,’ said Marish, licking his wine-soaked lips. ‘You think that you’ve been born to serve others, that you are destined only to serve. You were not born to serve as a tool for the satisfaction of other people’s interests. For that there are animals. Fight for yourselves. The feudatory chief and the Acharya fight for themselves. You too should fight for yourselves—for your food, for your clothing, for your wine, for the woman you take into your arms and who gives you joy, for the child in whom you see the perpetuation of your life. Die you must, but at least die for the right to live. One who allows himself to be used by others is a lump of dead flesh, worse than an animal. Under a feudatory chief you are only partly human; try to be a human being. In despair and out of sheer laziness, don’t accept the position of animals. Kendras is barbarous. He is greedy for the wealth which is the essence of your life. Powerful is the man who kills, weak is the man who fears,’ Marish said, getting up and walking off.