the life of an outcast.’
‘I DON’T NEED YOUR PROTECTION! I CANNOT BE SAVED!’ shouted Sati, before
storming out of the room.
Shiva glared at her retreating form in irritation. ‘What the hell is it with this woman?!’
‘She’s right Shiva,’ advised Brahaspati. ‘Don’t go there.’
‘You agree with her on this vikarma business? Answer with your heart, Brahaspati. Don’t
you think it is unfair?’
‘I wasn’t talking about that. I was talking about Sati.’
Shiva continued to glare at Brahaspati defiantly. Everything in his mind, body and soul told
him that he should pursue Sati. That his life would be meaningless without her. That his soul’s
existence would be incomplete without her.
‘Don’t go there, my friend,’ reiterated Brahaspati.
The caravan left the river city of Kotdwaar on a royal barge led and followed by two large
boats of equal size and grandeur as the royal vessel. Typical of the Meluhan security system,
the additional boats were to confuse any attacker about which boat the royal family may be on.
The entire royal party was in the second boat. Each of the three large boats was manned by a
brigade of soldiers. Additionally, there were five small and quick cutter boats on both sides of
the royal convoy, keeping pace and protecting the sides in case of an ambush.
‘When the monsoon is not active, my Lord,’ said Ayurvati, ‘the rivers are the best way to
travel. Though we have good roads connecting all major cities, it cannot match the rivers in
terms of speed and safety.’
Shiva smiled at Ayurvati politely. He was not in the frame of mind for much conversation.
Sati had not spoken to Shiva since that fateful day at Kotdwaar when he had refused to
undergo a shudhikaran.
The royal barge stopped at many cities along the river. The routine seemed much the same.
Extreme exuberance would manifest itself in each city on the arrival of the Neelkanth.
It was a kind of reaction unnatural in Meluha. But then, a Neelkanth didn’t grace the land
every day.
‘Why?’ asked Shiva of Brahaspati, after many days of keeping quiet about the disquiet in his
troubled heart.
‘Why what?’
‘You know what I am talking about, Brahaspati,’ said Shiva, narrowing his eyes in irritation.
‘She genuinely believes that she deserves to be a vikarma,’ answered Brahaspati with a sad
smile.
‘Why?’
‘Perhaps because of the manner in which she became a vikarma.’
‘How did it happen?’
‘It happened during her earlier marriage.’
‘What! Sati was married?!’
’Yes. That was around ninety years back. It was a political marriage with one of the noble
families of the empire. Her husband’s name was Chandandhwaj. She got pregnant and went to