‘Kanakhala, let’s say we do approach the Meluhans directly,’ said Parvateshwar. ‘We will have to convince our countrymen to voluntarily choose to end their life much before it normally would have. And we will have nothing to give them in return. Convincing people to do this is not an easy task, even with those as duty-bound and honourable as the Meluhans. It will take time. The Neelkanth, however, is not patient when it comes to the Somras. He wants its use to end right now. The only way he can do that is to attack the epicentre.’

‘Which is Meluha...’

‘Exactly. Right now our task is to protect our country. You know Lord Ram’s laws state very clearly that our primary duty is towards our country. He had said that even if it comes to choosing between Lord Ram and Meluha, we should choose Meluha.’

‘Who would have imagined that it would actually come down to such a choice, Parvateshwar? That we would need to choose between our God and our country?’

Parvateshwar smiled sadly. ‘My duty to my country is above all others, Kanakhala.’

Kanakhala ran her hand over her bald pate and touched the knotted tuft of hair at the back of her head, trying to draw strength from it. ‘What kind of challenge is fate throwing at us?’

‘It’s a stupid idea, Your Highness,’ said Bhrigu. ‘Your problem is that you do not look beyond the next three months when you dream up your strategies.’

Daksha had been sitting expectantly at the maharishi’s feet, eagerly awaiting his response. For he had just unfolded to Bhrigu his ‘brilliant’ scheme to avoid the war altogether.

An unmoved Bhrigu then leaned towards him from his stone bed. ‘We’re not fighting with the Neelkanth, but the devotion that he inspires in your people. Making him a martyr will turn your people against you, and inevitably, the Somras.’

Daksha expressed acknowledgement. ‘You’re right, My Lord. Had we succeeded in killing him in Panchavati, the people would have blamed the Nagas. That failure was most unfortunate.’

‘Also, Your Highness, while it is not unethical to attack an unprepared enemy, there are some codes that just cannot be broken, even in times of war, like killing a peace ambassador or even a messenger.’

‘Of course, My Lord,’ said a distracted Daksha. His mind, in fact, was already working on refining his plan.

‘Are you listening, Your Highness?’ asked an irritated Bhrigu.

A chastened Daksha looked up immediately. ‘Of course I am, My Lord.’

Bhrigu sighed and waved his hand, dismissing him from his chamber.

Parvateshwar strode into his house and nodded towards the attendant even as he ran up the steps that skirted the central courtyard. As he approached the first floor, he seemed to remember something and stepped back towards the landing overlooking the central courtyard.

‘Rati!’

‘Yes, My Lord?’ answered the attendant.