The Young King - I

The forest was thickly wooded, sunlight only finding its way through in places and then, diffused by the net of leaves above. However, the signs of spring were obvious even in the dark half light under the evergreen trees. Creepers grew here and there sprouting leaves of bright green and the undergrowth was a pastel of rich colour. The hunting party picked its way among the woods slowly, the sound of the horse hooves and human feet muffled by a carpet of thick grass and leaves. There were twelve of them, four on horseback, and the rest on foot. At the head of the party rode a young man clad in the fine robes of royalty and with him an older man of greying hair and beard. It was the younger one who had been hunting. The foot soldiers followed the couple, with spears in their hands and ropes tied around their waists. Two of them carried the carcass of a dead deer calf slung on a pole. It was fresh kill and the party would dine on venison that night. The hunt had lasted for four days now and the young king had been leading them deeper and deeper into the forest. This was his first hunt, not counting the solitary excursion with his father years ago. But back then, he had been a mere spectator.

                “... and I didn’t realize it at that time, but it was just a cub” the king was saying.

                “And so it was” said the grey-haired man who was his uncle.

                “Was Devapi as good a marksman as I am” enquired the king.

                His uncle chuckled. “Yes, as good if not better. But remember child, you are king now, not your brother. He is with the gods now and the forefathers.”

                Devapi was the eldest son of King Pratipa, the young king’s father. Although Shantanu had never seen him, he had grown up hearing about the virtues of his eldest brother. At the age of fourteen, Devapi had been strong, skilled and wise. The people had adored Pratipa who was good, just and god-fearing, but they had adored Devapi even more for not only had he possessed Pratipa’s mental abilities, but he was also physically adept, something that could not be said of Pratipa. Devapi had been an excellent marksman, accomplished with the sword and the mace, good at riding the horse and an outstanding wrestler. Maidens had been fawning over him and priests and soldiers had praised him as an able leader and eventually an able ruler. But Time had other ideas. He had been afflicted by a terrible skin-disease. Pratipa had tried to keep the knowledge of the disease secret. He had called physicians from far and wide, but the disease had no cure and by the time the boy was sixteen, his affliction was common knowledge at Hastinapura. Yet, he was loved by the people and Pratipa had planned to go ahead and crown him the king-in-waiting. He was opposed however, by the priests who claimed that the gods had ordained that one so afflicted could not take the throne. Pratipa had resisted at first, but he had been too god-fearing a man to oppose the priests and soon his resistance had weakened. Devapi himself had made matters easy on the old king. He had decided to renounce the material pleasures of the world and become an ascetic. That decision had broken Pratipa’s heart, but he had agreed.

                Pratipa had another son, Mridukesha. However, at birth Mridukesha had been promised to Shivi, his maternal grandfather. Shivi, the Vahlika had no children but Sunanda, who was Pratipa’s wife and to continue his line, he had asked to adopt Pratipa’s second-born. Mridukesha had grown up in the sandy, rocky hills of Vahlika far to the northwest, among his grandfather’s fierce tribe of horsemen. He was more a Vahlika than a Kuru, for although he continued to visit his father every year, every year Pratipa had seen him grow apart from the customs and cultures of the Kurus. After Devapi became an ascetic, Pratipa had tried to convince Shivi to let Mridukesha return to Hastinapura, but the boy himself had protested. He had grown to love the mountainous lands of Vahlika, the extremes of climates, the miles and miles of barren waste and the fierce warriors of the mountain clan. The Kuru lands with its humid weather, thick forests and sparkling rivers were alien to him, a second home at best. And so, Pratipa had prayed fervently to the gods for another son. Shantanu was born.

                Shantanu had grown up hearing stories of Devapi’s virtues and prowess. From his first words to his first faltering steps, from his first games in the great court of Hastinapura’s palace to his graduation from the gurukula on the outskirts of the city, he had been continuously compared to Devapi. He had taken the comparisons in good stead, pushing himself to be better than his peers, better, in his mind, than the ghost of his brother who was constantly with him. His parents had nervously watched him for signs of illness, but none appeared and he was soon named crown prince. Five months ago, his father had succumbed to the passage of Time and he had been crowned the king of the Kurus.

                The Kuru kings had all known to have a passion for hunting. Pratipa however, had been an exception and Shantanu had gone on a hunt only once with his father and that, when he was barely a child of eight. Sunetra, his uncle had accompanied them then as he was now, as they rode in search of a clearing to camp for the night.

Sunetra was the younger of his two uncles. Sunetra’s brother, Dharmanetra had been as pious and as peaceful a man as Pratipa himself. However, Sunetra unlike his other brothers had a bit of the old warrior in him and it was he that had trained Shantanu in archery and horse riding. Uncle and nephew were rather close to each other and Shantanu would always look to him in times of need for counsel.

                “Fire ahead” shouted one of the riders in the rear, pointing ahead somewhere to Shantanu’s right. Sure enough, Shantanu could see smoke in the distance from among the trees. There appeared to be a clearing of some sort where fires had been lit and the party rode towards it. Soon, they came out of the woods into a wide clearing clinging to the banks of the Ganga. The clearing was dotted with tents of various shapes and sizes and in the centre, burned three great fires. The party rode towards the scattered camp in a slow trot.