Nasteya Page 20

  Nasteya stood there, his eyes incandescent with anger and despair, his eyelids shaking, his jaws stiffened, his fingers curled to form a fist and he was unseeingly gawking towards the horizon. I had never seen Nasteya so angry before. And his strange quietness made me worried.

  ‘Control it, Nasteya, control it.’ I said in my head. But his anger was evident. I knew what he was thinking. And I prayed that he wouldn’t do it.

  ‘I’ll go there as a slave,’ Nasteya murmured.

  ‘Wait... When?’ I asked. He stared at me and then once again towards the horizon and started to walk briskly.

  ‘Nasteya,’ I called him from behind, ‘Stop! Wait! Don’t rush into anything.’ He just wouldn’t listen. Vedang and I followed him. ‘Nasteya, stop! You cannot do this in a hurry. Calm down and think about it,’ Vedang yelled while Nasteya walked swiftly. ‘Do something,’ Vedang whispered to me as he followed Nasteya.

  ‘Nasteya! Stop! We don’t have a plan yet,’ I spoke as we chased him. He didn’t respond. I had seen Nasteya’s anger. But this wasn’t just anger. It was his desperation, his vulnerability. He didn’t want to feel helpless any more. He wanted to do something about it. Now that I also knew that vengeance was just nothing more than a cause to draw Nasteya towards something bigger and that people’s lives were in jeopardy, the seriousness of the situation seemed magnified manifold. But the enemy was not to be undervalued. A plan was obligatory. I held Nasteya firmly by the arm and he stopped at once.

  ‘Was a plan fruitful in Mehrgarh?’ Nasteya said to me, ‘Sometimes you don’t need plans.’

  ‘What about Eshana, Ayaan and the others?’ I said.

  ‘They cannot go,’ Nasteya said plainly.

  ‘What about me?’ I asked. Nasteya stood silent. His visage reflected his state of mind. His anger hadn’t abated a bit. And then he said, ‘Let... me... go.’ He pushed my hand away and started walking.

  ‘I have to go with him. I’ll try to talk,’ I said to Vedang in a hurry. ‘Go back to Eshana and others and be with them. Don’t let them panic. Everything will be alright.’

  THIRTY-TWO

  REVENGE, RAGE AND FATE

  Eighteen sleepless, silent, melancholy nights passed. We sailed towards the island of Naksos. That night I had followed Nasteya. He didn’t stop me. He didn’t speak. He didn’t sleep. It was just me speaking, trying to convince him. For eighteen days his mind dealt with those unsettling memories of Saarah’s fall. It added to his fury. For eighteen days he kept thinking of how foreboding destiny had been to him. For eighteen days I had to choose all my words sensibly, something I had not done ever before. I feared Nasteya for the first time. I feared the person he had become. All I could manage to convince him was for his meals. He was always thinking or may be planning, I didn’t know.

  What would we do? What would we say? What if they caught us? We didn’t even have our swords, armour or anything to defend ourselves. We moved towards certain and inevitable trouble. I didn’t even pray; it would be of no use. I was with Nasteya, like always. I no longer feared the possible outcome. If this was how it was supposed to be, then I was ready for everything. It was I who had said that I’d either live to fulfil this purpose or die trying. A time came when I was no longer bothered. Fate had been unpredictably strange to us. But I wasn’t expecting any surprises any more. I surrendered myself to our fate. I stopped thinking. I was ready.

  The cloudy morning of the thirtieth day brought us in front of the island of Naksos. The embattled wall encircling the island was visible. No vegetation around the island could be seen. It was all dark and dirty with skeletons of dead birds, fish and animals lying on the rocks. There were no seagulls or any other birds in its vicinity. It was eerie. The Daivyas noticed our boat near the shore and came over to inspect it. Quiet as we were— and defenceless too—they believed we were sent for slavery. We entered the island through a gate in the wall. The land underneath our feet was blackish brown, full of cracks, which made it evident that it had been barren for years. Visibility was reduced by dense fog. We walked with five Daivyas escorting us. Tied to rings etched into the embattlement, some wolf-like animals were snarling, whimpering and howling. We walked through a narrow footway across a trench.

  The view of the trench was more like an abandoned mine. It looked like something bad had happened there. There was another trench, a wider one. Miserable-looking men and women worked in that trench, digging something out of the earth’s bosom. Whips and scorns and fear of death drove those half-dead people. Cruelty was at its peak. Nasteya was noticing it all, every single detail. He could hardly bear the sight. Those slaves glanced at us from below, pitying us for having shared same fate as theirs, little did they know what this man was about to do. Though the sights were agonising, I was noticing everything and making a map in my mind. We passed through a total of twelve such trenches, each one wider than the previous one. Few of them had cabins and caves where the slaves spent nights or rested when possible. And then there was a wide stretch of open land right before a sky-scraping cubicle building. It was made of rock, all black and ominous. The time to see our enemy had come. We knew it was the devil’s abode.

  A Daivya started beating a huge drum. A big gate opened with a creak. One of the Daivyas shouted something in a foreign language. Nasteya was stiff and quiet, his anger now enough to engulf the entire universe. I wasn’t scared at all. Actually, I wasn’t feeling anything, neither terror nor apprehension. I was just present there, accompanying my friend to an oblivious outcome. A line of Daivyas walked out through the gate. They bent down on their knees and hands in a circular formation. A dark figure stepped out. Visibly larger than anyone there, cloaked in a dark robe with a ribcage serving as an armour, this hooded giant was none other than Daivatma—our enemy.

  He stepped on the backs of the Daivyas underneath. He gestured for us to walk up to him. Fumes of vapour came out of the cracks in his ominous attire. The face was all dark and invisible. Truly evil, a nightmare, he was. But Nasteya walked towards him, his eyes fixed at Daivatma’s hooded head. His enemy stood before him—my enemy as well. All that we lost, all that we went through, the reason stood before us in the shape of a devil. Nasteya was in the kind of fury which could make even the Gods tremble. I waited for him to act. It was probably the first time somebody had looked at Daivatma so fearlessly. He had to respond. The White Demons stood amazed as well.

  ‘So much of dare for so common a slave,’ a vibrating, low-pitched, dead-toned, growling voice came from Daivatma. My eyes were scanning every bit of that devil. And it was then that I saw that a blade hung at the side if his waist with his hand on the hilt. It didn’t take me more than a blink of an eye to realise that it was the Kushya’s sword. I wondered if Nasteya had already noticed the same. But his eyes were still fixed at Daivatma’s hooded head.

  ‘No realm teaches their men to look straight at me,’ Daivatma spoke. The more Nasteya listened his voice, the more his blood boiled.

  ‘My realm has taught me not to fear any devil,’ Nasteya spoke, his voice plain and clear. A Daivya stepped forth drawing out his sword. Daivatma signalled him to stop.

  ‘I have seen such realms to their end,’ Daivatma said; his comment pinched us. Nasteya clenched his fists.

  ‘There is no greater bravery in victory against the unprepared,’ Nasteya commented. Daivatma pushed his hood away, revealing his face, rotten as it looked. His skin was dark and rough with crevices here and there.

  His eyes all black and red. Worms crawled in his slimy hair. It was horrible, truly horrible. The man inside him was dead; it was the devil that had overtaken him over centuries of malicious experimentation and it showed.

  Daivatma bent over and kicked Nasteya in his chest with such a force that he fell at a distance. The blow displayed Daivatma’s evil strength. The Daivyas looked amused and cheered. I ran to Nasteya while he tried to edge up on his elbows. The blow had made Nasteya’s robe slip down from his shoulder, revealing the mark that made him special.
Daivatma walked up to us and noticed the mark at Nasteya’s bare chest and shoulder, looked straight into Nasteya’s eyes and growled, ‘Who are you?’

  I wasn’t aware of what Nasteya would do now that he had seen the mark. Clearly, we were in trouble already. Moreover, I was ready for anything, even death. Though we would not be able to fulfil the purpose we set out for and that such a death wouldn’t be glorious, I was satisfied by what we had already done on this entire journey. At least we wouldn’t die without answers. We wouldn’t die as common men. We would have our names and tales in Mehrgarh’s history. We would be remembered in folk songs. This made me ready. But the man I was with wasn’t just a man. Nasteya took advantage of his quickness and drew out Kushya’s sword as he simultaneously kicked Daivatma away. Nasteya’s blow was as potent as Daivatma’s. The expression of amusement on the faces of the Daivyas died away. His move was out of the blue. He pointed the sword at Daivatma and stood in a defensive stance. All the Daivyas drew their swords out. They didn’t see it coming.

  ‘You are the one,’ Daivatma grinned. Why did he grin? ‘I knew you’d come. I awaited you.’

  ‘You awaited death,’ Nasteya said in anger. Nasteya lifted the sword high in the air. And then, nothing happened. It puzzled us. Daivatma let out an evil laugh.

  ‘I’m not that stupid,’ he said. ‘I knew you’d come for the sword. So there was no need for me to hunt you down. Now that you’ve come and you fell for this ever ready trap, you will die. I will finish Yima’s blood line.’ He turned to a Daivya and said, ‘Bring Kushya’s sword.’

  The one Nasteya held was a fake sword. And now we were in trouble.

  ‘What now?’ I asked him.

  ‘Run towards the trenches,’ he said plainly and fearlessly.

  There wasn’t a hint of worry on his face. We started to run. Running was pointless I thought. A hundred Daivyas began to chase us.

  ‘Let him run, but don’t let him off the island. He dies today. I will kill him.’ We heard Daivatma speak these words. A few Daivyas blocked our way. Tossing them away with just a few blows, Nasteya threw a blade towards me. We ran faster. We passed through the bridge over the trench. There was no slave or Daivya in it. The bridge wasn’t wide enough, so it slowed down the chasing Daivyas. We sprang like deer. Soon, we were on the bridge of the second trench. I realised Nasteya would try to take advantage of these narrow bridges. As we stepped on the bridge, Nasteya said, ‘Dive down and kill those supervising Daivyas. I’ll hold them back here.’ I jumped down and drew attention of almost all the slaves working there. Since only a handful of Daivyas supervised the work of the slaves in the trench, I thought it wouldn’t be hard for me to kill them. Nasteya stood facing those approaching demons. I fought the ones that came at me. The slaves were taken aback. In not more than three rows, the Daivyas attacked Nasteya. He fought like a God. The slaves were spectators to this sudden chaos. They were amazed to see Nasteya piling up corpses of those demons falling into the trench. It was something they had never seen before. They couldn’t understand what was happening. Nasteya roared. His sword tasted blood. A hundred Daivyas couldn’t move him an inch backwards. It was anger that gushed through his veins. It was hatred that powered his sword. It was vengeance that shrouded his entire self. He held the last Daivya from his hair and roared in his face. He pushed his sword through the Daivya’s gut and roared again. He flipped him in the air and slashed him in two parts. As both the parts fell in the trench, Nasteya stood there, breathing heavily and blood dripping down the tip of the blade. All slaves stood on silence, gaping at this man who just fought like a God of war.

  Nasteya rushed down, ‘Do you use explosives in mining? Where are they?’ he shouted to all. But everybody was gaping at him in both surprise and admiration. And then a weary old man came up to us and said, ‘They’re down that mine.’

  ‘Get them and plant them on the bridges. Bring them down. Take everyone and run towards the southern entrance. Those who know how to wield a sword go and free the slaves in other trenches. Do not fear these Daivyas.’ Nasteya’s orders were loud and clear. All slaves could see the seriousness in his eyes, the courage in his voice and the might in his words.

  ‘Who are you, my child?’ the old man asked with a sense of calmness that had returned to his face after decades.

  ‘He is from Yima’s bloodline, he is your saviour, he is Nasteya,’ I announced loudly and pushed Nasteya’s cloak off, revealing the mark that made all slaves drop their jaws in shock. They needed an inspiration. The old man’s eyes widened and glinted, he stepped back and murmured, ‘The legend is true... He has come.’

  A lady burst into tears and fell on her knees. ‘He has come, our saviour has come.’ These words echoed through the trench and reached the ears of hundreds of slaves in no time. The old man’s eyes shed a stream of uncontrollable tears, probably because he too would have waited for decades hoping that someday the legend would come true. Nasteya’s anger was still at its peak. But he gently held the old man by his shoulders and said, ‘Go now, go and be free.’ We neither had any army nor a plan. Taking down all bridges could only slow down the enemy. Yet Nasteya sounded so self-assured.

  The bridges were brought down one after another. A sudden revolt filled all slaves with anger and Nasteya’s mere presence gave them confidence and motivated them. One after another the trenches were being opened and more and more slaves joined the revolt. Even the ones with little strength exhibited an extraordinary display of anger against Daivyas. It was just Nasteya’s existence that gave them hope. And when they saw him fight like an enraged God, it gave them energy that nothing else could. Daivatma chased us with an army of Daivyas, but our idea had worked. Those fallen bridges had given us enough time. I saw a little light now that thousands of slaves were with us within hours. But I couldn’t forget that Daivatma possessed Kushya’s sword. By evening, we passed through the last trench and made for the gate at the shore. What we saw next made us stop at once. In front of the embattled wall a thousand Daivyas stood in a line, from the left to the right. It was going to be impossible to fight them all. They had their swords and spears ready. The slaves stood worried. Silence prevailed. The Daivyas would strike any moment. And then came a faint muffled sound of a series of blasts. Something made everyone look into the sky beyond the wall. Large spherical masses of fire ascended from the sky and hit the wall along its entire parameter. The wall fell on the Daivyas, crushing them. Many more were run over by those fireballs and burnt alive. It was unexpected and surprising. I looked at Nasteya while he stared hard beyond the settling dust and dying flames, towards the sea. I narrowed my eyes to get a better vision. Numerous ships sailed towards the island. On the front deck of the first ship, we saw Babak, Savaan, Vedang, Ayaan and Eshana. Those were Persian battleships. What master plan of destiny had just unfolded?

  The ships docked. The pirates came running towards us, Babak in front.

  ‘How did you...?’ I was so amazed that I couldn’t even complete.

  ‘This is mankind’s only chance. Pirates aren’t demons, we’re men as well,’ Babak exclaimed. Nasteya didn’t say a word. Babak bowed to him.

  ‘Take everyone to the ship, now,’ Nasteya ordered.

  Eshana and Ayaan ran towards us. Eshana was about to embrace Nasteya, but restrained herself. Nasteya’s face was as impassive as before. All feared this enraged man, even the beloved.

  While all slaves boarded the ships, a handful of pirates stood with Nasteya as he stared in the direction of approaching danger. I instructed Savaan to take Eshana and Ayaan back to the ship. Eshana didn’t want to go.

  ‘Nasteya doesn’t want you to stay. It’s unsafe,’ I said. ‘Please! For Ayaan’s sake.’ Half reluctantly, Eshana and Ayaan walked away. But Savaan stayed. He drew his sword out and looked at Nasteya. Nasteya nodded in approval. Such a rare sight, of a brave Savaan, was surprising. We heard rhythmic hoofs. The ground started to tremble.

  ‘They have come. Be prepared,’ Babak said loudly.
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br />   Through the mist we could see thousands of Daivyas assembling in open land in front of the last trench, many still emerging from beyond the trench. Their army extended from the extreme left to the extreme right of the trench, both the extremes hidden in dense mist. In front of all was Daivatma riding some kind of brutal beast that resembled a bull with long and curled horns. They were not in hundreds or thousands, they were in millions. It was like all evil had gathered in no time. It was like Daivyas had emerged from below the ground or had fallen from the sky. It was certain death that we faced, a gloomy end.

  ‘Get into the ships with all slaves. Go!’ Nasteya’s order to the pirates was loud and clear. He turned to me and said, ‘Vasu, go with them. This is my war.’

  ‘This is our war. I won’t go,’ I replied stubbornly. ‘No! You have to go. You do not deserve to die. None of you. Just take those slaves to their freedom,’ Nasteya said plainly. He was still clung to this hope that at least the slaves would be freed. Such an army was a threat for even the escaping ships. To me, all our attempts seemed futile, now that the enemy’s real strength was in front of us.

  ‘I haven’t come this far you to abandon you at the very last moment,’ I said adamantly.

  ‘We are pirates. We’ll either rob the devil’s soul or perish in the attempt,’ Babak replied.

  ‘Savaan...’ and before Nasteya could complete, Savaan said, ‘I won’t go, brother. I won’t.’ Nasteya gave up. He knew that the men who accompanied him were brave enough to die fighting for his cause. He knew that living with him was what kept me going and that dying with him would be my salvation. He knew that we were ready to embrace death.