The conqueror, p.5
The Conqueror, page 5
‘I had given instructions to my generals to tell the men not to defile the women of the palace. As for your family, I believe they’ve escaped the palace precincts. My men had been given strict orders not to harm you or them. Perhaps your family believed otherwise. I assure you, if they are found, they will be returned to the palace without harm. Now stand up and face me peacefully.’
The guards hauled me up and released me, but they remained by my side.
Virajendra continued speaking in his matter-of-fact way.
‘Our ships are already raiding the port of Barus as we speak. We will sail back within ten days. Of that you have my word.’
‘Is this all really necessary?’ I asked. ‘Send me back to my land.
We will discuss terms. I promise they will be favourable.’
‘My lord, I cannot discuss terms with you. There is a process to this. I advise you to be patient.’ He turned away from me and towards his general, who had been waiting for some time to show him some charts.
As they became busy discussing the destruction of my city, I was escorted back to the chamber. I sat on the mattress and weighed my options.
Why on earth did they want to discuss terms with me in Chola Nadu? Perhaps because I had no standing there and could not rally troops as I could here. Or perhaps, as young Virajendra himself said, he really was not equipped to discuss terms, though as a prince he should have been. A poor prince, indeed, I thought to myself with no little satisfaction. I was discussing matters with my Daatus when I was nearly half his age.
Who was left in the kingdom to fight for it? The Srivijaya have been ruled by queens in the past and our land has had the yoke of its destiny guided by feminine hands too. It is not like this in every empire. In many lands west of Srivijaya, women are not given access to the world of men. They are kept under lock and key, like the Srivijaya keep their gold, and are protected by armed eunuchs. I couldn’t be sure if my own queen would fight for the kingdom. I felt a momentary stab of anger at her and the princess. Why couldn’t they have stayed back and fought for the kingdom, which was as much theirs as it was mine? I realized my thoughts were fast becoming irrational and felt a great weariness and a reluctance to deal with the world. I closed my eyes and let my worries drift away like smoke after a dead fire.
I slept like a log for a few hours and when I woke up, I saw a large tray placed at the foot of my bed; it contained a bowl of sour rice gruel – what you call kanjika – along with small fried black gram cakes called vataka s. I learned later that these were the staple of your seamen. There was also a soup of parched rice, pomegranate, coconut and, of course, ginger. Two coconuts full of juice leaned against each other on the tray.
The guard from the morning continued to stand passively near the door of the chamber. I bit into the vataka and could feel the taste of ginger, pepper and aniseed ripple on my tongue. A blob of mango pickle was placed on the plate and I swiped a few fingers of rice gruel on it, smearing it across the plate. I ate a meagre quantity. My mind did not care for my belly at the moment, but recognized the need to keep it quiet.
The guard was looking at me. ‘Here, have a coconut,’ I said, and threw the coconut from the tray at his chest. He spun around and caught it with one hand and threw it back at me without wasting a motion.
‘I’ve already had my fill, my lord.’
‘So have mine. It’s a command. You wouldn’t want to offend a guest, would you?’ I said lightly and tossed it back at him.
He looked unsure.
‘Just have it. Otherwise I’ll tell Lord Virajendra of the unspeakable cruelty being meted out to me by my bodyguard.’
I smiled at him, and he pouted.
‘What’s your name?’
He did not reply. Instead, he used a knife at his side to cut open the coconut and dig into its flesh.
‘A man without a name. How do you ever get on? What does your wife call you when she gets angry? You do have a wife, don’t you? A big strapping man like you.’
He carved a large piece of flesh from the coconut and put it in his mouth, chewing it thoughtfully.
‘Refreshing, isn’t it? If you don’t give me a name, do you mind if I give you one?’
There was no reply.
‘Splendid. Give me a little while. A name is a serious thing. A matter of earnest consideration. I took nearly a week to decide my own daughter’s.’
A picture of my daughter, the princess, flitted through my head and distracted me for a moment.
He continued to look mutely at me.
‘This is going to be a very long trip if only one of us is going to talk.’
When this did not elicit a response from him, I lay down and closed my eyes; eventually, after an hour, I went back to sleep.
The whole day, and the next one, was spent alone with the silent guard. I asked him whether anyone would come to get me. When I got no response, I once again threatened to jump out of the window. He said nothing but continued to regard me impassively.
Another idea struck me. I took a deep breath and began shouting for help in the loudest voice I could muster. The sound was hidden by the ocean rhythm and the sound of oars splashing the water. My voice did not escape the lower deck upon which my chamber was situated but it rattled the guard who looked around and put up his arm to shush me.
I shouted again and again; he looked around helplessly. Finally, the door behind him opened and two men barged in. One of them was Brahmarayar.
‘What is the matter?’ he asked, puzzled.
‘This is fine hospitality you show the Maharajah of Srivijaya. You leave me alone with a mute guard and a few scraps of food and believe your duties as host are over?’
Brahmarayar looked disbelievingly at me. He opened his mouth and closed it and finally spoke after a few moments.
‘Perhaps you are right, my lord. Won’t you come with me? Let me show you our ship.’
We walked through a long narrow alleyway and came to the centre of the deck where a staircase stood, leading to the upper deck. I could hear the trumpets of elephants and the snorts of horses again as we passed by. Brahmarayar gestured for me to ascend the steps. He then barked out an order and an old sailor wearing a loincloth and a head scarf came up to him. He was dark as night and took out a device the size of my palm and gave it to Brahmarayar.
It was a compass. I had seen many of these before. We even used them at Srivijaya, though they were more ornamental than anything. I had not seen one like the one Brahmarayar held in his hand. It was a small square metal plate with several Tamil markings on it. Upon it was transfixed a wooden tiger that was carved in the middle of a charge. The tiger turned around and round and then came to rest with it face pointing towards the south – towards Suvarnadwipa.
‘Like it? It’s a special Chola compass, made by our mariners in our lands.’
‘The Song have one with a turtle.’
‘True,’ He said with the hint of a smile. ‘The Song call it the “South Governor” or sīnán. We’ve only begun to use it over the past hundred years. Some of our ships have fire throwers. Also Song creations. You’ll find much of the Song in our vessels.’
‘I guess the Song are a greater empire.’
The smile evaporated off his face and he looked away, but before he could say anything, Virajendra came up to us.
‘Stretching your legs, eh? Good! A little exercise is quite necessary on these long voyages.’
‘I wouldn’t know,’ I replied coldly. ‘I’ve never had to visit any land beyond my own.’
Virajendra ignored me and continued to speak. ‘I always find sea voyages very inconvenient. And yet, that’s all father believes I’m capable of.’
The general looked aghast. ‘Don’t say that, my prince!’
‘Well, it’s true. Rajadhiraja is the regent. He was appointed as soon as father was crowned. Rajendradeva is the governor of our Northern and Eastern territories, which leaves the ocean for me. Chola Samudram! I’ve fought the barbarians of Eelam, crushed the tribes of Manakkavaram with its islands strewn like pepper grains on the sea, and now this.’
‘Your father has great faith in your seafaring capabilities, my prince.’
He shrugged and looked out at the sea.
The prince adjusted the cloth that covered his torso but kept his left shoulder free. All the Chola noblemen and senior generals draped cloth around their body. The cloth was made of fine Tamil cotton with an elaborate trim. They wore short dhotis that extended up to the knee. The boatmen were naked except for loinclothes. Some of them wore head scarves to protect against the heat, a marked difference from the soldiers who wore jackets and short dhotis.
‘I saw your army this morning. They are significantly better equipped than your navy. The Srivijaya equip both the army and the navy the same way.’ I spoke loudly, hoping to find the ears of the troops and build resentment among them.
Virajendra laughed. ‘Your eyes deceive you, my lord. Our navy is young. We’re not seafaring people. The first invasions outside where the land ends in Chola Nadu were conducted by my grandfather. You have him to thank for trade as well.’
‘Our sailors are paid in gold coins. Solid coins for their work. They have homes and land. They enjoy the best of Jambudwipa, the Arab lands and China. They take our camphor, gold, silver and wood and trade it with your civilization and make more money than even some kings have seen in their lifetimes,’ I continued.
Virajendra squinted at me in the sun.
‘You paint a beautiful mural, my lord. But don’t try to deceive my men. They work for the greater glory of the Chola empire. They work for the privilege of calling themselves conquerors of lands their ancestors had not even heard about. They are not mere tradesmen like the Srivijaya, who have forgotten how to fight because their arms are weighed with gold…and porcelain.’
He spat the word ‘porcelain’, almost disgusted at its delicateness.
The men around him laughed at me. I looked him in the eye briefly and walked away, down to the lower deck. Brahmarayar followed me and did not say anything. He left me outside my chamber, bowed slightly and went back to the upper deck. I spent the rest of the evening in a silent rage inside my chamber with the guard for mute company. Soon after, with nothing left to be done, I fell asleep again.
In the morning, I was awoken and summoned to the top deck. Was my little outburst going to be my death?
What? Yes, I know I’m alive here talking to you, but allow a man the flourishes of his story.
At that moment, I really thought I would be thrown off the ship in the middle of the ocean, perhaps with an iron weight manacled to my legs so that I sank deep inside its heart and became a feast for the fishes. My legs shook a little; I have no shame in admitting it. They always do when I go to war. Why should it be any different when I die? Let others think it is a form of fear. I believe it is a form of release. The fear gets shaken out of my body before I go into battle like the large snakes that you call aanai conda – elephant killers – that shed their skin and are reborn into a new mould.
I walked up slowly, determined to die like a king of the mountain as my ancestors had been. Virajendra greeted me with a smile.
‘You’re just in time, my lord.’
I looked ahead and saw a port.
It was Kadaram. I had seen the silhouettes of its buildings and the curves of its beaches invite me to its shores like a long lost lover far too many times not to recognize it.
‘The kadatuan of Kadaram is ahead. They have heard of our invasion by the looks of it.’
I could see Srivijaya ships in the port – large ones with catapults mounted on them. Behind them were smaller ones with archers and marines that could weave through the water and cause havoc. I won’t bore you with the technical details, scribe. You, who have probably never seen the ocean in your life. Know this, the large ships carried catapults to bombard the smaller ones or lay siege to the fort. They would mostly stay back, away from the range of arrows or stones pelted at them from the docks or city walls. The smaller ships contained marines and sailors who would try to board enemy ships and take control of them. In a naval battle, as in a land one, the one with the most ships left at the end wins.
The Chola ships were larger but fewer since smaller ships wee unable to sail across the ocean. The Srivijaya ships were smaller. I could make out that many of the river boats had also been assembled for the battle. We had never encountered a navy like yours before then. Our navy was built to protect our coasts and our rivers, so our naval ships, unlike some of our trading vessels, did not need to be big enough to sail across the ocean, but small and manoeuvrable. I saw Srivijaya marines assembled on the ships, their weapons shining in the daylight.
I am not normally sentimental. The throne offers little room for any emotion other than paranoia, but the sight of my navy often brings out romanticism of the worst kind in me. There they stood, their bodies taut and strong, fed by the rice of my land, their hands holding her steel in her defence. The ships rose proudly above the water, a floating chain of wood and iron that secured my lands.
Man for man we probably outnumbered the Cholas, though in my estimation, one of ours was worth three Tamils in the water. Our marines were equipped with the best equipment available in China including firethrowers that would shoot fire out at ships and burn their occupants. The only deficiency, as I saw it, was Tamil steel, which was valued by both the Arabs and the Chinese. Tamil metallurgy is perhaps one of the few things the world covets. The Arabs say that ‘Hinduwani’ steel is the best in the world. They even introduced it to the weapon smiths of Damascus – the capital of the world when it comes to weapons – who create the very blades of hell from it. The Persians even coined a phrase after it – ‘to give an Indian answer’, meaning to cut with an Indian blade. That and the cotton you make at Uraiyur – as thin as a cloud – is perhaps the only reason your civilization still survives.
But let’s get back to my story. We have no flab, as they say, when it comes to time.
Our attack crafts were light and quick and headed towards the Chola vessels. The smaller attack crafts of the Cholas greeted them while the larger ships followed at their languid pace.
Catapults flung stones from the city walls, and they exploded into the water near the attack crafts that were just joining the battle. The flagship upon which we stood held back, and parallel to it ran three other large ships. Men were spilling out onto the upper deck dressed in red jackets and dhotis. The sails were stiffened and the pace of the oars slowed as we nearly came to a halt in the waters.
Virajendra looked on at the battle that was just beginning. Brahmarayar was nowhere to be seen.
‘I’ll tell you what,’ he announced magnanimously, ‘the greatest seafaring nation in the world is facing down the Chola empire. If your Srivijaya forces defeat us today, we will leave your lands, and I will relinquish all claims to your kingdom. A boat from my royal galley will take you to the port of Kadaram and leave you in your kingdom. We will return as supplicants next time without mention of your capture. This is my word as Prince of the Chola empire.’
My spirits lifted. On land, coupled with the element of surprise, the Chola army could defeat us. In the ocean, it was another matter altogether. The Srivijaya navy would cut them to pieces.
The Cholas had arranged themselves in three parts. The first was the attack group that was made up of only small- and medium-sized crafts. The second group contained a group of thirisadai ships that included the flagship. The third group included more small- and medium-sized craft – a retreat group of sorts.
I watched as the attack crafts began shooting a sea of arrows at each other. Grappling hooks flew across the water and pulled vessels closer to each other. Their men jumped aboard each vessel, their swords in hand or flat between their teeth. Some men fell between the ships to be lost forever in the infinite waters.
Virajendra was listening to an old man dressed in a pristine white dhoti, upper cloth and a jewelled turban who held a map and explained the formation of the ships. I thought for a moment if there was any way I could weaken their cause. A quick distraction? Something that diverts their attention from the battlefield? I could snatch the map and throw it away and hope they didn’t have another. Perhaps I could push Virajendra off the ship. I took a step closer to him and immediately two guards came between us, blocking my passage. I grinned wryly at them and looked back at the battle that was unfolding.
I could jump into the ocean and swim to the shore. The swim would be fatal for these ground huggers who only felt secure when they had mud between their toes. Srivijaya, on the other hand, were taught to treat the ocean as a second home. We spent more than half our lives in it, our ships tumbling and playing across its surface, like an infant in his mother’s arms. I weighed my chances and decided against it. The risk was too great. A stray catapult stone or a sheath of flame gone awry could easily be the end of me.
So I stood, and hoped the battle would be done soon. I was reasonably confident of our ability to hammer the Cholas, not least because they were outnumbered by our ships, nearly three to one, by what I could see. More importantly, the sea was our element. It was a battleground that decidedly favoured us.
The battle raged on and the Cholas struggled gamely against our ships that were faster and more brutal in their attacks. Soon, the Chola ships were breaking formation and the ones in the front were already heading back.
‘Retreating? Already?’ I asked softly of the guards who stood in front of me. They were too well-trained to respond. Once the battle was over, and Virajendra came as a supplicant, I would buy some of these troops as mercenaries for Srivijaya.
The Chola attack craft retreated to the line of thirisadai ships even as the Srivijaya ships surged towards them like eagles picking off snakes. The attack crafts fanned out and away from each other in their desperation to head back into open sea.
The thirisadai ships were virtually stranded as the Srivijaya ships bent their sails to propel their ships faster towards their prey. I would have done the same thing. Strike as they retreat, and strike so hard that they never think of coming back. My ships steered towards their ships that were fanning away rapidly, but not fast enough. Some Srivijaya ships broke off and headed towards the thirisadai – another move of which I approved. The largest ships carried the leaders. To destroy them would be to destroy the navy.
