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I
Kumaravarma ran as fast his legs could carry him. He stumbled as his bleeding knee caught the edge of a tree stump, but he did not stop. The guards were close behind him and he needed to get to Baahubali.
An arrow came whizzing from behind. Kumaravarma dodged it. Seconds later, a volley of arrows was fired at him. Now, he was no fighter. He did not know how to destroy arrows at a close range with his sword. His only option was to keep running.
But how? His injuries were making that impossible.
Against his will and better judgement, he slowed down. His feet refused to budge, and his ears detected the sound of hooves getting closer.
He closed his eyes. This was it. He was going to die.
And no one would be able to warn Baahubali of the danger he and his family were in.
But Kumaravarma was not going to go down without a fight. He twisted around on his sprained ankle and faced the hordes coming at him, like a warrior.
“Come on, you bastards,” he shouted. “Aaaaaarrrrrghhhhh.”
But just then, he was pushed aside as a dark silhouette took over the fight. Kumaravarma blinked and saw who had come to his aid.
It was Baahubali.
He dodged the arrows and destroyed the spears, but he did not injure a single soldier.
“I don’t wish to hurt you,” he yelled. “Move back and you can leave here unharmed. Why are you doing this?”
His words went unheard as a big, burly swordsman charged at him and struck him hard on the head with his shield.
Baahubali fell down, dazed after taking such a blow to the head. Taking advantage of his momentary disorientation, several soldiers attacked him at once.
“No,” Kumaravarma shouted and jumped into the fray.
Without worrying about who he was slashing at, he cut through the swarm of fighters to get to Baahubali, whose unarmored torso was covered in gashes by this point. In his finest moment yet as a warrior, Kumaravarma managed to grab a shield from a soldier and pull Baahubali away before he could be hurt anymore. They jumped for cover behind a brambly tree stump.
“Thank you, Kumara,” Baahu gasped as he tried to catch his breath. “We need to get out of here.”
“You need to get out of here,” Kumaravarma corrected him. “Bhallaladeva and his father are trying to kill you and Devasena.”
“No way,” Baahubali’s voice was thick with disbelief.
“Trust me, I saw it with my own eyes. I was there as they conspired. I… I… They almost used me to trap you.”
“Then we cannot waste time. Let us leave now.”
But just as they turned to make their way to the village, the chief of the army staff, Gagangupta sprinted towards them with his men and blocked their path.
“Stop,” he commanded. “There is an arrest warrant on your name. Come with us quietly and there will be no need for violence.”
Baahubali’s hand tightened on the hilt of his dagger. He pulled Kumaravarma safely behind himself.
“I cannot do that,” he said. “It’s best if you just let us go.”
“That is not possible, Baahubali,” Gagangupta answered. “These are the orders of the king. You and this Kuntalan guest have committed an act of high treason, aided and abetted by Katappa.”
“Katappa?” Baahubali couldn’t believe his ears.
“Yes. Katappa. He has already been taken into custody. He is to be executed publicly after your trial.”
The disgraced prince of Mahishmati was finally beaten. His mama was in danger. He closed his eyes and took a moment to think before responding.
“I… I just… give me a second,” he said and allowed himself to drop to his knees. Kumaravarma scrambled to his aid. He looked frightened and bewildered by this turn of events as well. “Katappa? I… That doesn’t…. Baahu, Baahu are you…”
But Baahubali cut him off before he could complete that thought. “Kumara, you need to get away,” he whispered urgently. “I have to go help Katappa.”
“I can’t leave you here and go.”
“But that is the only way. These soldiers will not allow us to pass. And even if we outrun them, they will call for reinforcements. Devasena’s condition is delicate. Think about her.”
“But she will kill me for leaving you behind.”
“No, she won’t. Take her and run away to a safe place.”
“Safe place? But where?”
“Devasena knows. She will guide you.”
“She does? Are you sure?”
“Yes, we had discussed this weeks ago. Take her and leave. I will create a distraction.”
With that, Baahubali leapt to his feet and lunged at Gagangupta. Even though he hadn’t had a chance to wield any sort of weapon in weeks, he was far more lethal than usual. The life of his wife and child depended on how much time he could borrow for Kumaravarma to get away.
“Protect the chief,” one of the soldiers yelled and everyone rushed towards Baahubali./p>
The ensuing chaos allowed Kumara to make his escape. Baahu, who had kept an eye and an ear out for his brother-in-law, breathed a sigh of relief when he finally managed to get away.
He continued to dodge the onslaught of arrows and swords for the next several minutes while also wounding a number of his attackers. He hated causing harm to anyone, especially the loyal soldiers of Mahishmati—but tough times called for tough actions.
It was necessary to give them a strong fight in order to keep them too engaged to chase after Kumaravarma.
But this elaborate maneuver could not be extended infinitely. Ultimately, he allowed himself to slacken and gave the soldiers an opening.
Gagangupta realized what his old mentor was up to but stayed quiet. One of the younger soldiers clubbed Baahubali on the head and knocked him out.
Back in the palace, Sivagami Devi paced back and forth in Bhallaladeva’s wrecked inner chambers. Corpses of slain guards, shards of broken glass, fragments of charred furnishings, and splatters of blood surrounded her as the sight of her son’s bloodied face swam in front of her eyes.
Baahubali had dared to conspire against the current king! He had finally proven himself to be the ultimate traitor.
A part of her wanted to summon Katappa and ask him to execute Baahubali without a trial. But a saner part of her knew that would lead to civil war. She knew the people loved him. And Bhalla, with his temperamental, often boorish ways, had done little to win the love of the people.
No. The best way to deal with the situation was a public trial. But before that, he would have to confess to his crimes in private. Only then, his sentencing would be carried out in public. If she could have had her way, she would have opted for a public confession and a public trial.
But confessions could get ugly. The people already saw him as some sort of a martyr. She did not want to give him a platform to further solidify his ‘poor noble prince’ image in their minds. After his sentencing, his pregnant wife would have to be exiled from Mahishmati and all its vassal kingdoms too. Kumaravarma, the poltroon, would also be given the death sentence. Oh, Baahubali! His evil designs would destroy so many people.
How had everyone not seen through him all these years? How had she, Sivagami, not recognized the darkness in the child she had raised as her own. Her hands trembled as she again picked up the parchment roll upon which she had given the orders to arrest Baahubali and his accomplices.
She did not like what she was being forced to do but her job as the queen mother sometimes required her to take rather difficult decisions.
A few minutes later, Gagangupta came to her with his report.
“We have Baahubali in custody, Rajmata,” he said and bowed with his fist over his heart. “But… but the Kuntalan escaped with Devasena.”
“What?” Sivagami thundered. “And you let them get away? How could you commit such a blunder?”
“Our soldiers are looking for them. Meanwhile, we are preparing the captive for questioning. Surely, he knows where his allies might have gone. What are your further orders from here on?”
Sivagami’s lips twisted in disgust at the implication of the soldier’s words. ‘Questioning’ was nothing but a civilized euphemism for torture.
She did not like the idea of torturing Baahubali for information. But again, he had brought it upon himself. And as the rajmata, she could not give in to her lingering maternal instinct.
“Hmmm, that’s our only course of action,” she finally said. “Begin the questioning. If he does not reveal information within the next hour, ask Katappa to take over. And inform me if that happens.”
“Ka… ka… Katappa?” Gagangupta sputtered. “But, Rajmata, wouldn’t… Isn’t Katappa very close to Baahubali. Will he be able to interrogate him properly? And isn’t it cruel to even expect this of him?”
“Katappa is one of our best interrogators. Between him and the dandanayak, they have cracked some of the toughest criminals in the history of Mahishmati. Baahubali knows far too much about our kingdom, its security apparatus, its economy, and its weaknesses. If he has shared them with his Kuntalan allies, we could be in grave danger. We don’t know who they might offer this information to. As much as I hate the thought of subjecting Baahubali to something so harsh, I, and you, and everyone who fights to protect the kingdom, need to steel our hearts until we have dealt with the danger.”
Dejected but convinced, Gagangupta bowed and left.
His feet carried him to the cold basement where Baahubali’s unconscious form was hanging chained to the ceiling.
“Rouse him,” he ordered. A guard poured a bucket of cold water on the captive.
Baahubali woke up with a start.
“Huh… huh… whe…what….” His eyes were bloodshot and his voice was a raw, scratchy croak.
“Baahubali.” Gagangupta addressed him. “Kumaravarma and Devasena have escaped. We know you are aware of their whereabouts. If you answer us clearly, we will not hurt you. Tell us, where did they go.”
Baahu smiled a small, resigned smile of acceptance. He was never going to reveal that. His captors knew that too.
“I don’t know where they went,” he answered.
“Don’t lie to us,” this time, the interrogator’s tone was soft. “Baahubali, I have known you for years. I have loved and respected you since you were a mere boy. I don’t want to cause you pain. Just tell me what we need to know. Please. I promise we will simply bring them back here. They will not be harmed. They will have a fair trial. And if they are able to prove their innocence, they will walk free. You don’t want your pregnant wife to be a fugitive in her final trimester, do you? Think about your unborn child.”
“I am touched, Gagan Garu,” Baahu exclaimed. “Why, your concern for me almost sounds real. Perhaps, it even is. But don’t tell me about fair trials. My wife will not stand before the court in chains again. For the last time, I do not know where she went.”
“You leave us no choice then.”
“Go ahead. Do what you must.”
Gagangupta took off his armor and his turban in preparation for the unsavory task he was about to perform.
Baahubali closed his eyes and clenched his teeth shut. This was just another battle. And this time, his silence would be his sword.
*****
Sivagami was sitting in her study, reading a dharmasutra pertaining to the surviving minor children of disinherited and deceased sons. She had full faith in the abilities of her security staff. Even though Baahubali was strong, they would get the information out of him. By morning, Devasena would be captured and brought to Mahishmati.
She would face punishment, of course. But what would happen to her unborn child? That was the question.
Just then, Gagangupta came to see the queen mother.
Sivagami took in his appearance. There were specks of blood on his tunic. She swallowed roughly at what it meant.
“Rajmata,” he began. “We have summoned Katappa to continue the interrogation. Our spies have turned up with no reported sightings or even grapevine rumors so far. Baahubali is our last hope. You… you said you wished to be informed of any further developments.” With those words, he lowered his eyes.
Sivagami got up from her seat. “I will come with you to the interrogation chamber.”
Gagangupta balked at the thought of the rajmata seeing the torn-up form of her disowned son. “That, may not be wise, milady,” he tried to dissuade her.
“Gagangupta, you will not tell me what is wise or what isn’t. It would be better if you simply followed orders.”
The soldier was suitably chastised by the queen mother’s acidic response. “My apologies,” he said and stepped back.
Sivagami motioned him to follow her.
By the time they reached the interrogation chamber, Katappa was already there. His hands were shaking and the whip kept slipping from his fingers. His unfocused eyes were awash with shed and unshed tears. But the worst part of this gory picture was the naked agony on Baahubali’s face as he realized the depth of his former family’s betrayal.
Katappa was in no danger. It had all been an elaborate ruse to capture him and bring him to the palace.
“Why?” his bloodied lips managed to ask.
Katappa could not answer.
“Baahubali,” Sivagami drew his attention to herself. “Katappa does the bidding of the throne. I ordered him to have you arrested. You have no other option but to tell us where you have sent your wife and that other Kuntalan.”
Baahubali smiled through his blood-stained teeth.
“Ma, it is good to see you again.”
“Answer what has been asked,” Sivagami’s control was stretched thin. The sight of gruesome injuries on Baahubali’s legs, back, and torso threatened to overwhelm her. But her voice remained rock steady.
“I don’t know where Devasena went.”
“Katappa,” Sivagami ordered the slave.
Still shaking like a leaf, he raised the whip and brought it down on Baahu’s unprotected belly.
The sheer force of the hit caused their victim to convulse like a fish out of water. A long weeping gash appeared next to the several others that had already been laid upon his overtaxed body. Blood from each wound ran down his legs and stained the grimy stone floor red.
“This will stop if you cooperate, Baahu,” Katappa all but wept. “You can’t carry on like this.”
“Then kill me, mama,” Baahubali’s voice was calm and soft. “Kill me and be done with it.”
“Why the need to die so soon, brother?” Bhallaladeva’s sneering voice came from the doorway.
“What are you doing here, Bhalla?” Sivagami asked. “The king is not required to attend interrogations.”
“Sorry, mother,” he responded. “But since the victim in this case happens to be the king, I thought I have the right to face my perpetrator and confront him one on one.”
“I did not try to kill you, Bhalla,” Baahu said. “But you do know what really happened, don’t you?” His eyes bored into his brother’s.
“I don’t know what you are talking about, you traitor. You will say anything to save yourself, won’t you?” Without giving Baahubali a chance to respond, he pulled his fist back and delivered a set of brutal punches to his lower abdomen. Unable to double over as the wind was knocked out of him, Baahubali dissolved into a violent coughing fit. Unmindful of his own vast strength and his captive's deteriorated condition, Bhalla struck him square in the face and broke his nose and right cheekbone.
"Bhalla," Sivagami shouted. "The king must not give in to baser instincts. I will not tolerate gratuitous violence from you."
"My apologies, Queen Mother," Bhalla said, but his ill-disguised amusement suggested otherwise.
He then turned to Katappa. “The trial will be held tomorrow afternoon. Irrespective of whether you find the whereabouts of Devasena, I want his written confession by early morning.”
He left and a few minutes later, Sivagami saw herself out as well. The truth was that she indeed could not handle the torture of her… of her… of her son.
And yet, life, in its cruelest twist yet, had brought them here—where the sound of the whip’s unforgiving swing did not stop her footsteps while the thud of the strike forced another laceration upon her child’s flesh.
*****
It was rather late at night. Katappa’s barely furnished quarters were cold. There was no firewood in the hearth. And he kept his window open. The shaking of his hands had not subsided yet. He tried to take a meager amount of comfort in the fact that like his poor, beloved Baahu, he too was enduring the cold.
However, unlike Baahu, he wasn’t bleeding all over. He wasn’t thirsting for a tiny sip of water that had been denied to him.
“Mama, ma…ma…” Baahu’s words were slurred and thick with the weight of his suffering. “Water, please. Water.”
“You can have water once you tell us where Devasena is,” Gagangupta snapped.
“I told you… I… I… don’t know. Please. Water.”
“No answer? No water.”
The next strike did not even make him twitch. At last, he had fainted.
Katappa sighed in relief.
That memory made his gorge rise.
It was true he was a slave. It was true he was bound to the throne. It was true he was obliged to obey the rajmata in everything she said.
But it was also true that her orders had been to arrest and interrogate the captive.
She had said nothing about not letting him escape. She had said nothing about not aiding his escape. She had also said nothing about answering for the prisoner in the unlikely case that he, Katappa, might be privy to the information being sought out.
Katappa waited for the third prahara of the night to begin.
For the first, and perhaps, the last time in his life, he would answer to his conscience.
It felt good to be human for once. It felt good to be more human than slave.
II
The soft glow of the lamp also felt harsh as he tried to open his eyes.
“Baahu?” the woman’s gentle voiced called out. “Are you awake?”
“Unghh,” He tried to answer but his throat refused to make a coherent sound.
“It’s okay,” her voice sounded nearer now. A moment later, his head was on a soft surface, which, he deduced was her lap. “I am so glad you are here. Thank God for Jaidev’s presence of mind. Thank God for Katappa’s love for you.” She gently raised his head a little and helped him drink water from a small cup.
Baahubali was grateful for the water. His scratched, raw throat was soothed by the coolness of the pure, clean liquid. But he was confused by his wife's words. Katappa? Jaidev? And… where was he?
“Deva, where… where are we?” he managed to ask. It took some effort but he squinted against the light and opened his eyes fully so he could see her properly.
“We are on the island of Kala Khanjar,” she said. “When Kumaravarma came and told me you had been arrested, I immediately contacted Rohini akka. Her husband brought us here without delay. On hearing what had happened, Jaidev knew at once that you were in great danger and that our only hope to save you would be to break you out before you were sentenced. It was fortunate that Katappa mama came to the same conclusion and sent a message to Jaidev. I must say, all those adventures from your youth have given you many friends and well-wishers in unlikely places. Not that I’m complaining.”
“You are safe then,” Baahu murmured. “That’s the important thing.”
Devasena bent down to kiss him on the forehead. “I am safe. But they hurt you, my love. I… I can’t believe how horribly they damaged you in the few short hours they had you.”
“Mahishmati is no longer the kingdom I once knew.”
“Perhaps, it has always been this way. Perhaps, you were the misfit there. Maybe that’s why the fates have brought you here.”
“Maybe.”
Devasena shifted a little and brushed the hair from his eyes. “I also have something else to tell you.”
“What, my love?”
“You are now a father. Congratulations.”
“What? Oh… oh, right. I can’t feel the curve of your belly against my head.”
“I was wondering when you would ask about that. But since you are injured, I guess your senses are a bit sluggish.”
“I should be ashamed. How could I have missed this?”
“It’s okay. The baby is here. That’s what matters.”
“Where was the baby born? Here or back in Mahishmati? What have you named him? Please tell me you haven't named him Bahadur after your pet bull.”
Devasena laughed. “Actually, the baby’s name is Mahendra. He was born on the ship that brought us here. I can tell you one other thing. Labor pains are not fun, especially when they come with a side of sea sickness. I swear I am never having sex again.”
“Wha… why? I thought you said I was good in bed.”
“Oh, you are,” she smirked. “Better than good, even. But It’s the aftermath of the sex that I am not a fan of. I can’t have another baby. Just, no.”
“Well, how about kisses then,” Baahubali rolled over and tried to sit up.
“Easy there, tiger,” Devasena cautioned him. “You have plenty of stitches all over that can come undone if you aren’t careful.”
“I just want to see my son.” There was such an ocean of longing and exhilaration in that statement that she couldn’t say no.
“I bet your son wants to see you too.”
She stood up and crossed the room to the crib where her baby was sleeping peacefully.
She was about to lift him out when Baahu stopped her. “Won’t he wake up if you take him out?”
“He might,” she agreed. “But that is okay. Babies fall asleep rather quickly when they are so little. The midwife said I should anyway be feeding him every other hour. I think we can wake him up for that too.”
“No, please,” Baahu requested. “Just let me see him for a moment. All of him. His face. Let me memorize him. Then you can pick him up.”
She smiled and waited for her husband to make the short but somewhat difficult trek across the room to get to the cradle. The effects of torture were far more visible now that he was awake. The tremor in his voice, the wobble in his legs, the stiff and unnatural bent of his neck, the dark bruises on his face, the swelling around his cheeks, and the blood soaking through the bandages underneath his clothing—it was all a stark reminder of how close she had come to losing him.
But her inner turmoil was soothed by the relaxed contours of his face as he finally took his moment to look at his son, his first flesh-and-blood connection in a world that had failed him in fundamental ways. His eyes glowed with awe, joy, and gratitude as happy tears rolled down his cheeks.
Noiseless sobs shook his frame and Devasena gathered him into her arms. His tears soaked the fabric of her blouse but she didn't mind. It bothered her to see her gentle, brave husband in such pain. It killed her to see what his own family had done to him. But like a true warrior's wife, she knew to keep a lid on her own feelings when he needed the comfort of her warmth and love.
“Shhhhh,” she cooed as she held him close and gently massaged the back of his head. “Shhhhh, it’s okay, my love. It’s okay. You can cry. But everything is alright. We are safe. And you are a father. You are a father. We are so lucky.”
She repeated this litany softly in his ears as he gave in to the swell of emotions that had been straining against his survival instinct for weeks.
It was almost midnight when he allowed her to let go of him.
“I really do need to feed the baby now,” she chuckled. “Otherwise, he will cry too. And he won’t be polite and dignified about it like his father.”
Baahubali laughed.
“Yes, we should feed the baby before he starts crying. We don’t want to wake everyone up.”
As if on cue, the infant stirred in his crib. “Eh… ech… eh.” Devasena’s ears perked up.
“That’s it. If he doesn’t get a nipple to suck on now, we will be at the receiving end of a very long, very hard bawling session.”
She gently lifted the baby out of the crib and placed him on her lap. As was custom, she drew the drape of her saari over her bosom as the baby suckled.
Baahubali sat in front of her and reverently drank in this image of maternal bliss.
“What? Do I have something on my nose?” she asked. “Why are you staring at me like that?”
“Nothing. I can’t believe how glorious you are. I think I just fell in love with you all over again.”
“You’re an idiot,” she said.
“Yes, I am,” he agreed. “But I am your idiot.”
“That you are! My perfect, loveable, noble idiot. I wouldn’t change you for anything.”
The next half hour was a sanctuary of tranquil peace for the exhausted couple who had been through so much in such a short space of time.
Once the child was done nursing, Devasena asked Baahubali if he would like to hold him.
“But… but he is so small. What if I drop him?”
“You and I both know you would sooner wrestle with a rhino than drop your child.”
Baahu held out his arms awkwardly as his wife placed the baby in them. “Go on, bring your elbows close to your chest. Hold the baby naturally. Trust me, you have the instinct.”
He did as he was told. A lopsided, grateful smile played at his lips as the little bundle of joy that was his son, smiled at him.
“Did you see that?” Baahu turned to Devasena, excitement shining on his face. “He… he just smiled at me. He… he likes me.”
Devasena grinned at her giant fluffball’s enthusiasm.
“He doesn’t just like you, Baahu; he loves you,” she said. “But, um, when babies smile at such a young age, it often just means they are passing gas.”
“Who said that?” Now Baahu’s tone was confrontational.
“The midwife said so.”
“Nonsense. The midwife doesn’t know anything. Our son smiled at me, specifically at me. And don’t argue with me about it.”
“Okay, okay, whatever helps you sleep well at night.”
“Hey, what’s that supposed to mean.”
“It means exactly what I said,” Devasena kept an impressively straight face. “Whatever helps you sleep well at night.”
As much as Baahubali enjoyed bantering with his wife, he chose not to continue it. He was too enamored by his son’s perfection to care about his wife’s harmless teasing.
He knew that the quiet charm of this peaceful night wouldn’t last. Mahishmati would start looking for him again. He and his family would never be able to return home. But he refused to lose hope this night. Time and time again, life had showed him that he was meant to survive, no matter what card was dealt to him.
Besides, the Gods were on his side.
His child was a blessing from the heavens. And a blessing as beautiful as this, could only the harbinger of a new beginning.