Mahabharat: Shiva's Last Variable

(A/N):

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As Devaratha departed, the battlefield gradually descended into an uneasy silence.

The dense mist that had shrouded Malikavana throughout the day’s fighting slowly began to disperse.

Like a curtain being drawn back after the conclusion of a grand performance, the fog drifted away with the evening breeze, its purpose fulfilled until dawn summoned it once again.

Only then did the true face of the battlefield reveal itself.

The once lush plains of Malikavana had become almost unrecognizable.

Deep craters scarred the earth where Astras had collided.

Entire stretches of forest had been reduced to charred ruins, while countless trenches carved by swords, axes and divine weapons crisscrossed the land like open wounds.

Broken chariots lay overturned across the battlefield, shattered weapons were scattered everywhere, and the banners of both armies fluttered weakly amidst the lingering smoke.

The price of the first day’s battle had been severe.

Both armies had suffered casualties.

Human warriors who had marched into battle at sunrise now lay beside Rakshasa soldiers who would never rise again.

The battlefield made no distinction between victor and vanquished.

Yet...

Anyone with even the slightest understanding of warfare could reach the same conclusion.

The first day belonged to the allied kingdoms.

Although they too had paid in blood, the Rakshasas had suffered considerably heavier losses.

Disciplined formations, coordinated command and the presence of warriors like Hanuman,

Devaratha and Ashwatthama had prevented Pushpasura’s overwhelming numbers from achieving the breakthrough they had expected.

For the opening day of the war...

Humanity held the advantage.

But it was only an advantage.

Not victory.

The Rakshasa army still possessed numbers great enough to darken the horizon itself.

Even after the losses they had suffered, fresh battalions continued arriving from the depths of Malikavana, replacing those that had fallen.

Their greatest strength had never been individual warriors.

It was their seemingly endless numbers.

Moreover, while two of Pushpasura’s Twelve Battle Generals had been decisively defeated and another had narrowly escaped execution only because of Pushpasura’s intervention, nine more still remained.

The war had only just begun.

"...."

Night had completely fallen by the time the commanders assembled within the main command pavilion of the Pushkarniya Kingdom.

The enormous tent was brightly illuminated by rows of oil lamps, their steady flames casting long shadows across the gathered leaders.

"...."

"...."

"...."

At the center stood a massive circular wooden table upon which craftsmen had recreated the entire battlefield of Malikavana in remarkable detail.

Hills, rivers, forests and defensive positions had all been carefully carved into its surface.

Small wooden pieces representing both armies were arranged across the map.

Each piece marked the location of a regiment, cavalry division, elephant corps or elite unit, allowing every commander to visualize the day’s events.

Surrounding the table stood the architects of humanity’s defense.

Devaratha.

Hanuman.

Ashwatthama.

Shakuni.

King Padmanabha Varma.

The Crown Prince.

Along with the generals and commanders responsible for the various divisions spread across the battlefield.

The atmosphere was solemn.

No one celebrated the day’s success.

Every man present understood that a single favorable day meant little in a war expected to last a hundred days.

King Padmanabha slowly shifted several wooden pieces before speaking.

"Our losses..."

His voice remained calm despite the exhaustion visible on his face.

"...while regrettable, remain within acceptable limits."

He moved another group of markers representing the Rakshasa army.

"The enemy, however, has lost considerably more."

One of the veteran generals nodded.

-Nod!

"Their first assault failed to break any of our defensive lines. Several of their elite battalions were forced into retreat after suffering heavy casualties."

Another commander pointed toward the western sector.

"We also managed to neutralize two of Pushpasura’s Twelve Battle Generals today."

Ashwatthama folded his arms.

"And a third would have fallen had Pushpasura not intervened."

Several commanders nodded in agreement.

Yet despite these achievements...

No one smiled.

Hanuman was the first to voice what everyone already knew.

"We cannot allow today’s success to cloud our judgment."

Every eye turned toward the immortal Vanara.

"The Rakshasas still possess an overwhelming numerical advantage."

His finger gently tapped the section of the map occupied by Pushpasura’s forces.

"They can afford losses that would cripple any ordinary kingdom. We cannot."

Silence settled over the tent.

"...."

"...."

"...."

Hanuman then turned toward Devaratha.

His usually cheerful face had become unusually serious.

"Tomorrow..."

He paused briefly.

"...Pushpasura will personally enter the battlefield from the very beginning."

Everyone around the table understood what that meant.

Unlike today, when Pushpasura had only appeared toward sunset, tomorrow he would have an entire day to unleash his strength.

Hanuman continued,

"Your responsibility can prevent him from tearing through our army. No other warrior here can occupy him for long."

His gaze met Devaratha’s.

"You must engage Pushpasura tomorrow."

"And..."

His expression hardened.

"...you must continue doing so for the next ninety-nine days."

The weight of those words settled upon the commanders like a mountain.

To battle the King of the Rakshasas every single day for nearly a hundred days was a burden that would crush almost anyone.

Devaratha, however, remained composed.

He simply inclined his head toward King Padmanabha.

"You have my word."

His voice carried quiet certainty.

"As long as I stand... Pushpasura will find me waiting before him."

King Padmanabha’s tense expression eased slightly.

There were few promises in the world that inspired greater confidence than one given by the King of Trivenivrata.

Afterward, Devaratha shifted his attention toward another familiar face seated beside the king.

Shakuni.

Not merely his brother-in-law...

But also the Mahamantri of Trivenivrata and one of the finest military strategists in Aryavarta.

Throughout the day’s battle, Shakuni, King Padmanabha and the Crown Prince had remained behind the front lines,

Directing reinforcements and ensuring that the defensive formations never collapsed under the Rakshasa assault.

Their contribution had been just as vital as those fighting on the front.

"What is your assessment?"

Devaratha asked.

Shakuni studied the battlefield model for several moments before finally raising his head.

His voice was calm.

Measured.

Completely devoid of emotion.

"We have assumed throughout today that the Rakshasas would honor the ancient code of war."

Several commanders nodded.

Shakuni’s eyes, however, remained fixed upon the wooden pieces representing the enemy.

"That assumption may prove dangerous."

The atmosphere inside the pavilion immediately grew heavier.

"The Rakshasas grow stronger after nightfall."

He slowly folded his hands behind his back.

"If tomorrow’s battle turns against them..."

His eyes narrowed.

"...there is no guarantee Pushpasura will continue respecting the very traditions he seeks to destroy."

Several commanders exchanged uneasy glances.

"He may abandon all pretense of honor and order a night assault."

Those words instantly silenced the pavilion.

A night attack.

Against sleeping soldiers.

It was something no righteous king would ever consider.

But Pushpasura was neither righteous...

Nor bound by Dharma.

"If that happens,"

Shakuni continued with a serious tone,

"our casualties will not merely increase."

He looked around the table, ensuring every commander understood the gravity of his warning.

"They will become catastrophic."

"The camps must never be allowed to lower their guard."

He pointed toward the rear encampments marked upon the map.

"Double the sentries."

"Rotate the guards regularly so fatigue never becomes a weakness."

"Increase the patrols between every camp."

"And establish signal fires throughout the perimeter. The moment even a single Rakshasa is sighted, every commander must be informed before the enemy penetrates our defenses."

He paused before delivering his final conclusion.

"If we are caught unprepared while our men sleep... the losses we suffer in a single night could erase every advantage we gained today."

Not a single commander disagreed.

The first day had taught them that they could match the Rakshasas in open battle.

The first night...

Would determine whether they were wise enough to survive the war.

The discussion gradually moved away from the battlefield itself.

King Padmanabha gently shifted several wooden markers away from the center of the war map before replacing them with smaller carved symbols representing supply caravans, food depots and logistical routes connecting the allied encampments.

It was a far less glorious subject than battles between kings and divine Astras.

Yet every commander present understood a simple truth.

Wars were not won by swords alone.

They were won by the ability to keep those swords in the hands of soldiers who were well-fed, well-equipped and capable of fighting another day.

One of the royal scribes unrolled a lengthy scroll and began reading the latest reports.

"Our grain reserves remain stable."

"The preserved meat and dried fruits are sufficient."

"Medicinal herbs continue arriving from the southern settlements without interruption."

"The wells remain uncontaminated."

He lowered the scroll before looking toward King Padmanabha.

"At the current rate of consumption, both the army and the civilians sheltered beneath the Temple of Pushkarniya possess more than enough provisions to sustain themselves for the duration originally estimated."

A quiet murmur of relief spread through the pavilion.

For the first time that evening, some of the commanders allowed themselves to relax slightly.

Food had always been one of the greatest concerns before the campaign began.

Fortunately, earlier of preparation by the allied kingdoms had prevented that problem from becoming reality.

King Padmanabha nodded thoughtfully.

"So long as the supply lines remain uninterrupted, our men will never have to fight on an empty stomach."

"That alone is worth half a victory."

Several generals nodded in agreement.

Just then, one of the veteran commanders serving under King Padmanabha slowly rose from his seat.

The old warrior bowed respectfully before speaking.

"Your Majesty... I wish to make a request."

King Padmanabha gestured for him to continue.

The general stepped closer to the battlefield table before placing a finger upon a location well behind the front lines.

Not the military camps. Not the supply wagons.

But the great temple.

More specifically...

The hidden chambers beneath it.

"The civilians sheltering beneath the temple are well protected."

He paused briefly.

"But that is precisely why I believe its security must be strengthened even further."

Several commanders frowned in confusion.

The general continued.

"Those underground chambers do not merely house women, children and the elderly."

His finger slowly traced another marking upon the map.

"They also contain the majority of our strategic reserves."

"Our grain."

"Our medicine."

"Our spare weapons."

"Our arrows."

"Our armor."

"The reserve fodder for our horses."

"The materials needed to repair damaged chariots."

One by one, every commander around the table realized the implication.

The hidden sanctuary beneath the temple was no longer simply a refuge.

It had become the heart of the allied war effort.

"If the Rakshasas somehow discover its location..."

The veteran’s expression grew grim.

"...they need not even conquer it."

Silence settled over the pavilion.

"They could simply burn our provisions."

"Poison our stored water."

"Destroy our medicines."

"Or collapse the underground chambers altogether."

His words hung heavily in the air.

"The consequences... would be beyond our ability to recover from."

He looked toward every commander gathered around the table.

"A hungry soldier cannot wield a sword for long."

"A wounded soldier without medicine becomes another casualty."

"A broken chariot without spare parts never returns to the battlefield."

Finally, his gaze rested upon King Padmanabha.

"If our enemy succeeds in destroying those reserves..."

He spoke slowly, ensuring every word carried its full weight.

"...we will lose far more than food. We will lose our ability to sustain this war."

"Even if our warriors continue winning battles... our army itself will slowly begin to starve."

The pavilion fell completely silent.

"...."

"...."

"...."

No one questioned his reasoning.

On the battlefield, victory belonged to the stronger warrior.

But beyond the battlefield...

Wars were sustained by grain, water, medicine and discipline.

Without those...

Even the greatest army would eventually collapse under its own weight.

King Padmanabha remained thoughtful for several moments before slowly nodding.

"A wise concern."

He looked toward the assembled commanders.

"The temple’s underground sanctuary is no longer merely a place of refuge."

"It is now the lifeline of this alliance."

His gaze shifted toward Shakuni.

"Mahamantri, what measures do you recommend?"

Since his own mahamantri his brother had betrayed him he asked Shakuni who fought with him on day 1.

Every commander turned toward the strategist, knowing that whatever precautions they decided upon tonight could determine whether their armies would still have the strength to fight when the hundredth sunrise finally arrived.

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(Author note:)

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