The Eighth God is Man

Varunapriya (Part 2)

Vajradandaka who was still in the learning phase knew better than to form judgments too easily. He remembered grandfather once said, 'Those who look from the outside do see clearly, yet they do not know what it is like inside. From the outside, they can see and tell that the water is murky, but is it possible for them to tell what it feels to swim in this water? Can they tell the water's depth?'

"Not everyone is like that…" the boy shrugged it off, his mind wandering, "Besides, even if they lick my boots, so what? I'm going to be the second most powerful person in the country soon! Who knows? Maybe father-Indra will retire after this campaign in the west, and big brother will take the throne! That would be so cool. At that time, he he, I can attend court every day and sit on the high seat under the throne, not some lame cushion at the edge of the steps."

Surprised, Varunapriya exclaimed. She pinched her little brother's ear harshly, "Dad, retiring? Where did you get this idea from? You jackass, is that a kind of thing you can say casually? Are you so thirsty for power that you decided to have such renegade thoughts even!"

"Hisss…! Elder sister, don't pinch me so harshly. I'm sorry. I'm sorry, okay?!"

"Hmmph! You're sorry. Do you think sorry works? I will rip off your ear if you don't explain why you're having such thoughts."

"It's…Hiss, gently! Hiss…It's nothing. It's just something that happened yesterday…It's the reason why I didn't go attend tea time with the courtiers today…and…and…" he stuttered in his childish staccato, "I just said it, okay? I wasn't thinking, and I certainly didn't mean it!"

In the main palace, there is a huge courtyard with tea and light entertainment every evening for people of the court and other nobles to socialize and relax. Only once in a week or during special days and festivals does this tea time stretch all the way into the evening where large scale entertainment happens. Normally, this hour was meant for the officials to rehash the day's matters and discuss state issues in a relaxed environment. The little prince has a habit of 'going to play' at this main courtyard every afternoon.

"A royal prince is supposed to 'think'!" she twisted his ear sharply, evoking a painful 'ow!' from the boy. "If you don't think, who's going to think? The man who milks the cows in the Goshala**?"

(**A barn for cows)

The poor little prince tried many different positions to get away from the pain, coiling to and fro on his knees like a snake dancing to the flute. "I won't. I won't. I won't say things like that without thinking again. Elder sister, don't punish me!"

"Hmmph! You boy, consider this your final warning. A prince's mouth can only produce pearls, not bullshit," the round-faced little girl said angrily, with her hands on her waist like some mature Devi.

"If something happens out there in the battlefield that father-Indra has to retire early because of it, I will certainly hold you accountable! I won't forgive you so easily that time. I won't forgive you at all."

Vajradandaka's heart skipped a beat. He had forgotten that his father was braving the frontlines, fighting barbarians at this very moment, and spoken carelessly.

Seeing her little brother's despondent face, the small princess realised she might have been a bit over overboard with her threats. She quickly rubbed his head and asked happily, "Alright, tell me what happened? Why didn't you go to the main palace today?"

The small face of the prince became even more withdrawn when she asked.

"Fine, fine! Don't say, don't say," the little girl hurriedly comforted her brother, putting her arms around his neck softly like when she first came. "But at least, you can talk to me about the frontlines? Talk to me about the war…"

When she said that, the peevishness on the little prince's face vanished and a sharp look came about instead. He didn't pay attention to her, but instead looked on ahead towards the Hill Tower Palace in the distance which is the tallest place in the royal enclosure. The tall flag flying above this observatory style palace is visible from as far as Solitary Wind Palace! It is the first thing that enters the eyes of anyone travelling to the capital, a beacon of Rthadhra, a proud symbol of the teeming capital.

"This war…" the little prince said slowly, his eyes narrowed and serious, "it's not so simple." He looked unwilling to talk further.

It was previously assumed that the western nomads were merely those desert nomads that come from beyond the hinterlands every five to ten years. These tribes were typically uncultured and brutish. Their fair skin was usually roasted into unpleasant blotchy brown shades due to exposure to sun, their fingernails were full of dirt and their clothes smelled terribly as they had little access to water, and therefore hygiene. Despite living in hot conditions, they wore bulky clothes. There were two reasons for that. One was to display wealth and the second was because, as desert nomads, they needed to carry their belongings on their backs and they needed bulky clothes for winter. Despite the heat and suffocation they endure, these people were very strong. To prepare for extreme weather conditions like peak summer and peak winter, they would raid civilizations close to them sometimes. They do not come every year and they leave as soon as they have raided enough, but whenever they do come, the dryland nations experience disaster. These barbarous enemies who do not stop at anything and do not fear death were every soldier's bane. Although the soldiers of western drylands weren't made of soft cotton, they still live protected and prosperous lives for the most part. They too experience extreme weather conditions, but these were semi-arid and even sub-humid climes that hardly compare to the desert. And who trains in hot weather anyway? Usually, the hottest and coldest times of the year were festive periods where even soldiers were off celebrating. Having brought up in conditions like this, the savagery and mindless violence of the barbarians quickly change the morale in the battlefield when these barbarians come! The bloodlust of these nomads that live day to day with strength being the only qualification to rule and cruelty being its cousin, is not something the dryland soldiers can replicate.

The dryland soldiers have better weapons, better techniques, better formations. But once morale is lost, everything is lost. Courage and unshakable will are the two things that decide the difference between life and death in war. This was the reason why it was a delicate period whenever the barbarians come. They are not invincible. They will naturally be driven out sooner or later. But to keep the soldier's morale up during this time is not something an average general could do. The upper council of Rtadhara was not sure if even the eldest prince and heir apparent himself was up to the task, which was ultimately the reason why the king had to go.

"Oh?" Varuna asked flippantly, "How is it not simple?"

Vajradandaka frowned slightly, his gaze fixated on that flag, observing the fragility in its tall existence. According to what the dryland nations knew of the barbarians, these group of tribes did have some rudimentary form of worship in which they believe in a strange god the Aryans have no experience of. Sometimes, after they leave cities these barbarians occupied during raids, objects of worship looking like large monoliths have been found. Whatever their beliefs were, the only thing known about their style of worship was fanaticism and self-sacrifice. These qualities of their cultures only served to make them a tighter group, giving the dryland nations even more of an assurance that these barbarians will never set their eyes towards conquest. This has been the understanding for over two centuries of time since they first appeared in the western drylands.

However, recent intel from the battlefield suggested that this time, the barbarians gave their god a name. They called it Rudra.

It is a simple matter of naming, but a frightening phenomenon where Aryan civilization is concerned. It means that the barbarians now possess their claim to divine sanction!

Earlier, had they conquered one of the kingdoms in the western drylands, even a minor one, all the other nations would've turned against them whether or not the royal bloodline of that kingdom was still alive. The people would not have submitted to their rule for generations. It was because their race simply did not have the sanction to lay claim to this land! That featureless monolith they worshipped was not recognised as divine in the Aryan pantheon of gods. As such their king will not be recognised as a form of god, or even one who has the blessing of god in order to rule the people.

But now, if they conquer these lands, the other kings can't oppose them on the grounds of them being heathen tribes. Besides, there was also that Brahmin powerhouse who was standing by them to consider. The one that named their god Rudra!

One can infer it is not the job of just any other Brahmin. This man should be having quite the foothold in devotional and intellectual communities to go ahead and name a heathen god with an Aryan name.