Victory City(94)
Pampa Kampana smiled. “Thank you,” she said. “But my time of desiring is over. Now everything I want is in my words, and the words are all I need.”
“Then, by all means,” said Tirumalamba Devi, “let’s get back to work.”
* * *
—
It was the rainy season when everything heated up. Early in the morning Aliya Rama Raya had breakfast with his wife in their private chambers in the Lotus Palace, in silence, listening to the deceptively cheerful sound of the falling rain, and saying nothing on account of the servers. When they had finished eating and drinking, Aliya walked around all their rooms and made sure there were no unwelcome ears listening, no loose-tongued flunkies or gossipy maids. Then at last he spoke.
“I can hardly talk to the man,” Aliya told Princess Tirumalamba Devi, “his level of thought is so crude. He thinks like he eats, which is to say, piggishly.”
The loose, tense power-sharing arrangement between Achyuta the brutish king and Aliya his devious rival was unsatisfactory to both men, and their dispute had dragged on down the years and pulled Bisnaga in two opposite directions, which was unsatisfactory to everyone.
Tirumalamba made a careful answer. “Madhava Acharya says he’s very godly, no?”
“Yes,” Aliya said, “but he understands nothing. We are good, they are bad, that’s the sum total of his religion. Underneath that, I think, he’s afraid of them. And now that there’s a new they rising in the north—these Mughals—he’s even more scared.”
“But we have them everywhere in Bisnaga,” Tirumalamba said. “We have their places of worship in many neighborhoods, and they live among us, and are our friends and neighbors, and our children play together, and we say we are Bisnagan first and godly second, isn’t it? We say that. Some of our senior generals are also them, na? And in the Five Sultanates, we are everywhere there also. Senior personages, shopkeepers, all. Even some wives in their palaces are we.”
“I have reached out in a friendly way to the Five Sultans,” Aliya told her. “Seems they are even more scared of the Mughals than Achyuta is, even though their god is the same. I try to explain to him, god is not the thing. Being able to rule ourselves is the thing. Not being conquered and obliterated, but being powerful and free, this is the subject, for the sultans as well as for us. But he only says, Kalyug, Kalyug, the Dark Age is upon us, the demons are coming, and we must pray to Lord Vishnu, who comes to save us from the miseries of the Dark. We must pray for his strength against them and crush them all. It’s like a four-year-old trying to understand the sacred books. ‘Crush them all’? It would be stupid to try even if it was possible. ‘Crush them all’ is like asking, please come now and crush me. I’m talking to the sultans nicely, to avoid all this talk of crushing-vushing.”
“What does he say about that? Your…‘talking-shalking’?”
“These days we don’t say much to each other. That’s also bad. So here’s my idea. I have invited the Five Sultans to Bisnaga as our guests, to mediate between Achyuta and me.”
“But, husband, excuse me, isn’t that a terrible idea? It makes us look so weak, na?”
“It makes Achyuta look weak,” Aliya replied, looking off into the distance and smiling an unamused smile. “Not necessarily the rest of us.”
“But what if, thinking the king is weak, they attack and take some of our territory?”
“Why, then, dear wife, it will prove to all of Bisnaga that the king is not up to the job, and a change may be required.”
“So this is your plan,” Tirumalamba Devi said, shaking her head. “I don’t know, husband. People already say about you that you’re too sly. This will just prove it, no?”
“The people will accept sly,” Aliya said, quietly, “if it is accompanied by capable.”
Tirumalamba saw that there was no point in further discussion. “Have you told the king?” she asked.
“I’m going to tell him now.”
“But he will never agree, isn’t it? So stupid he isn’t.”
“The sultans are already on their way,” Aliya said. “I have already given orders for a grand welcome, and a banquet. They arrive tomorrow.”
Tirumalamba Devi stood up and prepared for her day with Pampa Kampana at the mutt. “Sly isn’t a big enough word for you,” she said as she left. “Maybe sneaky also. Also calculating. Maybe also a little underhand. It’s not so much ‘Yes and No.’ It’s more like, he says ‘No,’ and you say, ‘Then watch out for your back.’?”
“Thank you,” Aliya Rama Raya said, and bowed slightly. “You can be a flatterer when you choose to be.” And he smiled, again, his thin little enigmatic smile.
“I’ll need an umbrella today,” she said, “and I’ll still get wet. You should get an umbrella too. The way you’re behaving, not just the rain but the whole sky could fall on your head.”
* * *
—
The state visit of the Five Sultans of the Deccan—rulers of Ahmadnagar, Berar, Bidar, Bijapur, and Golconda—didn’t last long, but brought about great changes. Old Adil Shah of Bijapur, heavily defeated by Krishnadevaraya at Raichur, arrived with a small army, and wore battle-stained military clothes. Even older Qutb Shah of Golconda brought an even bigger force, and arrayed himself in dazzling diamonds. Both of them gave the impression of men who needed a show of armed force to make them appear strong, and therefore they both looked weak. Hussain Shah of Ahmadnagar and Darya of Berar were unwell, and looked like men who knew they wouldn’t live long. Ali Barid of Bidar was the youngest, healthiest, and most confident of the five. He brought the smallest retinue, as if telling the rulers of Bisnaga, you wouldn’t dare.