‘I don’t see them stepping out of the safety of their fort,’ said Shiva. ‘The army that I will lead will have a hundred and fifty thousand soldiers who have just destroyed the mighty Magadhans; the Meluhans will not attack us with only seventy-five thousand soldiers. Sati’s army will have a hundred thousand, and don’t forget, she will also have the Vasudev elephants. So you see, even our separate armies are capable of taking on the Meluhans on an open field. General Parvateshwar has a calm head on his strong shoulders. He will know that it’s better for them to remain in the safety of their fort, rather than marching out and attacking us.’

‘But I get your point, Kali,’ said Sati. ‘If I reach early, I will encamp some ten kilometres south of Devagiri. There is a large hill on the banks of the Saraswati which can serve as a superb defensive position since it will give us the advantage of height. I will set up a Chakravyuh formation with our Vasudev elephants as the first line of defence. It will be almost impossible to break through.’

‘I know that hill,’ said Shiva to Sati. ‘That is exactly where I will camp as well if I happen to reach before you do.’

‘Perfect.’

‘There is no respite from the speed, is there, My Lord?’

Shiva and Parshuram stood on the deck of his lead ship, battling to keep their eyes open against the onslaught of the wind upon a speedily moving object.

The fleet was racing up the Saraswati, skeletally staffed as it was, with just two thousand soldiers, not giving any opportunity for the Meluhans to launch small strikes. While none of the cities on the Saraswati were prepared for naval warfare – since the Meluhans never expected such an attack – Shiva had decided to not tempt fate. The Meluhans were not wanting in honour and courage. As an additional precaution, he had also inducted many of the courageous Naga soldiers into his navy. Kali, the Queen of the Nagas, was travelling in the rearguard ship of the convoy.

Shiva smiled. ‘No Parshuram, there will be no respite. Speed is of the essence.’

In keeping with Shiva’s orders, there had been no breaks in the rowing. Four teams had been set up on gruelling six-hour shifts. The timekeepers, beating on the drums to set the rhythm for the rowers, maintained it at battle-ramming speed. Shiva did not want to trust the unpredictable winds with determining how fast they moved. In the interest of fairness, Shiva had also added his own name to the roster for rowing duties. His six hours of rowing for the day were to come up soon.

‘It’s a beautiful river, My Lord,’ said Parshuram. ‘It’s sad that we may have to kill it.’

‘What do you mean?’