EIGHTEEN
Satyaki, the whirlwind, blasts through the remains of the shakata vyuha. The Kaurava soldiers attack him in fury, but he blows them away: blood flying everywhere and screams ringing, as the Yadava storms on. In a few moments, at the edge of the padma vyuha, a smiling Drona confronts Satyaki. Satyaki has no choice but to fight. Shaft for shaft he matches the canny brahmana and it seems that neither will prevail.
Drona knows what Satyaki has come for and is happy to frustrate his mission. He cries, “Your guru escaped me like a coward when we fought. He folded his hands, made a pradakshina round my chariot and fled. But you won’t escape with your life, unless you mean to be a coward as well.”
It is as if Arjuna has spoken to his pupil through his master’s lips. Satyaki laughs aloud, he roars back at Drona, “A sishya must follow his guru. If Arjuna was a coward before you, O Drona, I am happy to be one as well!”
Satyaki makes a pradakshina around the Acharya’s chariot and flashes away into the padma vyuha. As they skim along, the Yadava cries to his sarathy, “Ahead is Baahlika’s army. Beyond him is the lord of Dravida and beside him Karna’s legion from Anga. Ride at Karna and the Dravida king. Look how Drona races after us. Go like the wind. The sun drops quickly, we must reach Arjuna as soon as we can.
Satyaki, with Drona after him, roars through the Dravida king’s legions and Karna’s, in a furrow of blood. How much like the guru his sishya is: the same swiftness of hand, the same unruffled smile, as if he has all the time in the world to arrive where he is going. Kritavarman sets himself in Satyaki’s path. Satyaki does not acknowledge a Yadava before him; he fights his cousin like any enemy. Krita-varman is familiar with Satyaki’s style and draws blood. For a moment, Satyaki staggers in his chariot. Then he casts a javelin at Kritavarman’s sarathy, so he falls out of his seat. Kritavarman’s horses bolt and it is a while before he can seize the reins and bring them under control. By then Satyaki has gone, out of reach.
Kritavarman lets the advancing Pandava army feel his anger. He smashes their formation, scattering the likes of Bheema, Shikhandi and Dhrishtadyumna.
Satyaki ploughs on. He has crossed two great rivers on his way to his master: Drona, the first and Kritavarman, the second. On flares the Yadava like fire through a dry forest. Jalasandha’s legion of elephants appears in his path and, quick as wishing, Kurukshetra is strewn with grey hillocks tinted scarlet. The field looks as if Bheema is abroad. Roaring to see his beasts slain, Jalasandha himself charges Satyaki. He strikes the Yadava in the arm with a light lance and next moment, breaks his bow. Every encounter saps Satyaki’s waning strength. He has neither the time nor the stamina for a prolonged duel. The Vrishni seizes up another bow. Two arrows cut away Jalasandha’s arms at the shoulders and the third strikes off his head.
Quicker than ever, flies Satyaki, racing the sun to the horizon. But Drona has almost caught up with him and from another direction Duryodhana, also, with a force of his brothers. Already, the Yadava serves the purpose Krishna intended for him: he draws some Kaurava warriors away from Arjuna. Duryodhana surprises the young Yadava. He breaks three bows one after the other in his hands and strikes him with a dozen arrows. Undaunted, Satyaki fights on with second wind, as if he has just begun the day. But he knows his strength will soon give out; he fights as if each shaft he looses might be his last. He kills Duryodhana’s horses and the Kaurava has to flee on foot.
Kritavarman, who has just dispersed the Pandava army, charges his cousin again. As he comes, he strikes Satyaki’s sarathy with two serpentine narachas and Daruka’s brother falls unconscious. Saty-aki’s horses rear; but he leaps up onto the chariot-head, seizes the reins in his bow-hand and fights on. Kritavarman’s sarathy is wounded and his horses. Satyaki pierces his armor with a naracha of his own and his cousin faints.
No sooner is Kritavarman quelled, than Drona flashes up to bar Satyaki’s way. But an inspired Satyaki strikes down Drona’s sarathy. When the brahmana takes up the reins himself, Satyaki’s charioteer has recovered. Seizing the advantage, Satyaki strikes Drona’s horses with slim darts, which hardly wound them but bring excruciating pain. Whinnying in frenzy, the animals bolt. Drona cannot hold them and they hurtle all over Kurukshetra, until the agony in their blood subsides and gradually they grow calm. By then, Satyaki is far away. Drona returns to the lip of the padma vyuha in the dim hope that perhaps, on this bleak day, he may still capture Yudhishtira.
A river in spate, Satyaki rushes on through the Kaurava army and no one can stop him. Those like the gifted archer Sudarshana, who dare try, lie twitching in death’s spasms and are soon still. The Kaurava army begins to make way for Satyaki, as if they know that to try to resist him is to die. Among kshatriyas, the Yadava has killed Jalasandha and Sudarshana; and he has put Duryodhana, Drona and Kritavarman to flight. As for the common soldiers he has killed, there is no count of them, but at least ten thousand men. Mlecchas of Kasi he has slaughtered, Nishadas, Tankanas, Kalingas, Magadhas, Kekayas, Kambhojas, Yavanas and Vasatis.
Looking so very much like his master, Satyaki tears on: deeper and deeper into the Kaurava vyuha. His horses are white, like Arjuna’s and he stands just like his guru in his chariot, entirely at his ease. The Yavanas try to block his way, but he smashes through them disdainfully. On he flares and ahead of him, he sees a legion of Kauravas mustered just to bring him down. At the head of the force, resplendent in Brahma’s golden mail, is Duryodhana, with his brothers around him.
His eyes shining, Satyaki cries to his sarathy, “Look! An army just to stop us. Ride at them; let me repay some of the debt I owe Arjuna. Let Duryodhana know that Satyaki is Krishna’s cousin and Arjuna’s sishya and that he is invincible!”
True to his word, in a short, one-sided battle, he destroys Duryodhana’s legion. He kills Duryodhana’s sarathy and stings the Kaurava’s horses so they also bolt as Drona’s had. With Duryodhana routed, his army runs from the dreadful Yadava and he has a clear path before him again. Throwing back his head, the Vrishni roars his triumph to heaven, as he scorches on toward Arjuna.