TWO
The conches boom again. Bheeshma shuts his eyes and drifts away on a vision of another world. The Kaurava army whirls into battle: a great wheel of men. The Pandavas’ krauncha swoops to stop its spinning advance. Sahadeva, who has sworn to kill Shakuni, meets him in a duel. Storming up at the head of the Pandava force today, Dhrishtadyumna confronts Drona before any other Kaurava warrior can intervene. Duryodhana’s brother Vivimsati rides straight at Bheema, but he does not take him unawares. With a roar Bheema charges Vivimsati, killing his horses, shattering his chariot and the Kaurava flees on foot.
Bhoorisravas faces Shikhandi. To Shikhandi, this is the first day of a new life: nothing remains of Amba’s steaming memories, of her single obsession. Serenity sits on the Panchala prince’s heart; son of a great father that he is, he gives Bhoorisravas a scorching fight, turning the heads of the soldiers around them.
Some way off, black Ghatotkacha and pale green-eyed Alambusa are locked in a battle of sorcery. They fight with maya, crying chillingly at each other in the tongue of wild rakshasas: dark curses that no one else can understand. The Avanti brothers Vinda and Anuvinda meet Chekitana in a fervid duel. Blood flies in the day’s young sun and the spotless sky echoes with the screams of those cut down. After ten days of war, a skin of dry blood covers Kurukshetra and fresh crimson splashes brightly on to this russet patina.
Virata is the first Pandava warrior to face Karna in battle. Holding their breath, the Kaurava soldiers watch to see if their new hero is indeed the archer they have heard he is. He exceeds all their expectations. His hands are like light, his aim is unerring and he is more fluent than Arjuna. It seems he only looks at an enemy and arrows flare from his bow by themselves. A deep roar of excitement rises from the Kaurava ranks.
Yet, another kshatriya eclipses even Karna: Abhimanyu. He hunts like a gandharva on Kurukshe-tra and no one can stand before him. Breaking easily through the rim of the shakata vyuha, he kills a hundred Kaurava soldiers. Duryodhana’s warrior, the king Paurava, surprises Abhimanyu from a flank, smashing his bow. Abhimanyu draws his sword and leaps down from his chariot. Seizing Pau-rava by his hair, Arjuna’s son lifts him into the air and flings him down to the ground.
Sword in hand, Jayadratha comes to challenge Abhimanyu. The prince is eager to show off his sword skills. On the ground between their two chariots, they hew at each other, their weapons ringing together in an efflorescence of sparks. Jayadratha is a fine swordsman; but though he has twice Abhi-manyu’s bulk, the slender prince beats him back with dazzling speed. He breaks Jayadratha’s blade, that king runs back to his chariot.
Word spreads of Abhimanyu’s havoc. Back in his chariot, the prince picks up his bow again and a rash of arrows leaps from it. One Kaurava warrior matches Abhimanyu shaft for shaft: Shalya harries him. They fight a blinding duel. Shalya invokes an astra; burning with secret fires, the missile flames at Abhimanyu. Arjuna’s son catches it in his hands! In a wink Abhimanyu fits it to his bowstring and shoots it back at Shalya. The astra explodes, killing Shalya’s sarathy, consuming his chariot and flinging him out.
Unhurt, but dazed and furious, Shalya seizes up a mace and runs at Abhimanyu. The slight youth cannot hope to match the massive Shalya with this weapon. Yet, honor demands that he fight. As Abhimanyu hefts his own gada, another kshatriya arrives between Shalya and him, roaring a challenge. It is Bheema, swinging his mace. Shalya turns away from Abhimanyu to the equal opponent.
Like a tiger and an elephant, they circle each other. The soldiers around them step back to give them room. Shalya and Bheema battle like beasts out of a mythic wilderness. Their maces clash like earthquakes and storms of blue sparks fly around them and they look like trees covered by fireflies at twilight. For an hour, they fight, exhilaratingly. Neither gives an inch, smashing out wildly and, also, with superb control. Until, with the loudest roar of the day, Bheema crashes such a blow on Shalya’s mace that the king’s weapon ignites in his hands. Bheema’s next blow takes Shalya on his head. Shalya’s knees buckle. Out of nowhere, Kritavarman appears, sweeps the fallen kshatriya into his chariot and flits away.
Lusty cheering breaks out among the Pandava soldiers. The moral victory has been theirs and Shalya has escaped death by a whisker. Karna’s son Vrishasena takes the field with his father today and he is a sudden comet appeared on Kurukshetra. Nakula’s son, Satanika, faces Vrishasena; he can hardly match Karna’s ferocious boy. Seeing him in mortal danger, Draupadi’s other sons come flying to their brother’s rescue. Like five sunflares, they attack Vrishasena, beating him back. Then, Aswatthama appears at his side and together, those two hold the Pandavaputras at bay. But how graceful the five are, how handsome!
This eleventh day, the Kauravas have lost many more soldiers than the Pandavas. No Bheeshma holds up Pandu’s sons any more and Bheema, Abhimanyu, Satyaki, Dhrishtadyumna and Arjuna devastate the enemy. To stop them, somehow, to turn the tide on his first day as Senapati of Hasti-napura’s army, Drona thinks he must take Yudhishtira captive. He sees the eldest Pandava fighting on his own, with Arjuna nowhere near him. Drona cries to his sarathy, “Ride at the white parasol! Go like the wind.”
They fly at Yudhishtira’s chariot. Drona’s bow streams five fires and no enemy soldier dares stand before him. In a moment, they are upon Yudhishtira. The Pandava turns to fight, but he is hardly a match for Drona with surprise on his side. The Acharya breaks his bow. He rides at Yudhishtira’s chariot; but Dhrishtadyumna, who misses nothing, flashes between them. Arrows fly like locusts between the chariots. With wonderful skill and some fear as well, Dhrishtadyumna contains Drona as a shore the sea.
Shikhandi and Uttamaujas are at hand. Drona beats them back in the frenzy that takes him. Draupadi’s sons try to intervene, but they cannot stand even a few moments against the raging Acharya. He is possessed. His students see him like this for the first time: truly terrible. Dhrishtadyumna sees the peril to Yudhishtira and fights desperately well. But he and his warriors are being pushed back, inexorably, farther and farther from the Pandava king.
The Pandava soldiers panic. Someone cries, “The war is lost. No one can stop Drona, he will take Yudhishtira today!”
Drona’s chariot comes nearer and Yudhishtira waits helplessly to be killed or taken by his master. Suddenly, a cry splits the arrow-thick air; the rumble of a great chariot drowns every other noise. Pale gandharva horses seem to fly above the ground, their reins held taut in the dark hands of an Avatara. The shimmering chariot appears out of the dusk and at the last moment, darts between Yudhishtira and Drona. In its wake, it leaves a thousand dead; so, in the gloom, it seems like some uncanny ship fording a lake of blood. Arjuna falls on Drona like an army.
In Arjuna’s mind turbulent images rise: first, of a day when a stranger fetched a little vita out of an old well for some young princes; then, of Bheeshma fallen just yesterday; and finally another day, fourteen years ago, when he and his brothers lost everything. How could his Acharya be an accomplice to such treachery? After all that had happened, how could he now stoop to this? In that moment, Arjuna loses a reverence he has nurtured over a lifetime. Drona had been bought with position and he falls in his sishya’s eyes. Blind with anger and even more with grief, Arjuna flies at his master who taught him so much of what he knows. Drona cannot face him. The Pandava shames his guru on Kurukshetra, driving him off like some common soldier. The Acharya’s opportunity to take Yudhishtira is lost; worse, he knows he has lost Arjuna’s respect.
The sun sets in sorrow over the field of the dead. Conches sound to call the armies back to their camps. Though Drona has fought as never before, the eleventh day also belongs to the Pandavas, if narrowly.