Shatru Sesham: Sequel of Baahubali ✔️

Chapter Eighty-Four

All the chambers in the palace of Mahishmati had their fireplaces burning brightly throughout the long nights to keep its royal inmates warm. However, Subahu always hated these big, open, brightly-lit chambers with their big, burning fireplaces. They suffocated him. He sought solace in dark and cool places. They echoed the chill and lovelessness he felt within himself.

The events of the day had unsettled Subahu. He had mechanically gone through his duties. Narasimha seemed detached from him throughout the day. There was no disrespect or rebellion either in word or action. But even more unsettling was the fact that if he delved deep enough to introspect himself, he felt the same way towards Narasimha- detached.

He limped through the winding corridors of the palace. Death would have been a better solution than this kind of life. He wouldn't have lived to see and feel himself smaller in his own son's eyes. He wouldn't have lived to see himself smaller than his own son.

Subahu met Narasimha in the corridor. He also appeared to be rambling around just like him. His face was also dark and clouded. He bowed to his father. He joined his father, walking behind him as Subahu led the way. They walked across several blocks of the palace in silence. There seemed to be too much and too little to say on both sides.

The guards, attendants and maids bowed as they passed by. They reached the end of the new wing of the palace. The old wing of the palace was not in use. It had been damaged years ago and was never rebuilt. The two guards who were manning that part of the palace informed this to Subahu.

Subahu curtly nodded his head. He knew it of course. The guards and Narasimha assumed that this would make him turn back. But contrary to their expectations, Subahu limped in. Narasimha and the guards also followed him.

One of the guards held up his torch to improve the visibility. Several stones had fallen out from the walls. Dried blood, ashes and soot stained the walls. One guard dragged the other by his sleeve, "This part of the palace was blasted when it fell, wasn't it?"

The other guard gravely assented to this before following Subahu. Wooden planks and old, rusty weapons were scattered all over. Several old paintings lay in a corner. The guard who held the torch remarked, "The paintings of the previous kings were dumped here."

Subahu was much ahead of the others. One painting in particular had caught his attention. He moved towards it to catch a closer and deeper glimpse of it. He was thrown aback by what he saw. Though not exact, the resemblance was striking. The others had not got to that point and his back was partially shielding the painting from being seen by the others.

Rats scurried hither and thither in their fright at being disturbed by these nocturnal intruders. One of them, slithered over the legs of the guard who was holding the torch. He dropped the torch in his hand leaving all four of them in pitch darkness. Looking concerned, Narasimha asked, "Are you okay, father? We can come back in the morning if you want."

Subahu hastily shook his head, "No, it was nothing." He said to the guards, "I will be increasing the security cover in this part of the palace. See that no one trespasses."

He bid goodnight to Narasimha. He did not go back to his personal chamber. Instead he sought the audience of the queen mother, Kamaroopi. Relations between both of them had never been very great. Of late, they had soured. They hardly spoke to each other these days.

Kamaroopi sat in front of Subahu. A long pause succeeded. She yawned and tapped her feet impatiently against the checkered carpet. The blinds and curtains of her room had already been drawn. She said, "Are you planning to say something?"

"How much do family resemblances pass on to the next generation?"

Kamaroopi's jaw dropped. Whatever it was, she was certainly not expecting this question. She sighed, "If it is about you and your father, you have inherited almost all his features. Eyes, nose, chin, lips, even his turn of countenance. Only your skin color and hair resemble my side of the family. That is the reason why I could never bring myself to love you even though I tried my best. Every time I saw my tormentor in you."

Subahu shook his head, "No, it was not that. I should have been more precise. How probable is it that a nephew resembles his uncle?"

Kamaroopi raked her brains, "Are you talking about Narasimha and Vijayamarthanda? God forbid! Our boy is nothing like that coward."

"I wasn't talking about Eiravati's side. From my side. Is it actually possible?"

"Technically speaking, a nephew could resemble his uncle. Though I should say such instances are pretty rare", Kamaroopi replied.

"I wish you good night, mother", he said. He slowly walked out leaving Kamaroopi highly confused.

After leaving mother's chamber, Subahu decided that he would spend the night with his queen consort, Maharani Eiravati, in her chamber. She happily welcomed him, "I am so happy you thought of spending the night with me."

As both of them settled down to sleep, Subahu casually asked her, "I was just thinking. Who do you think our son resembles? It can't be your late brother. I have always assumed that it must be your late father, my love. Isn't it so?"

Eiravati fumbled for her words, "Of course, my Lord. Narasimha resembles my father."

Subahu wiped the beads of sweat on her forehead, "Is the chamber too warm for your comfort, my dear? I thought so too."

Eiravati averted her eyes from his penetrating gaze, "No, my Lord."

She turned aside and shut her eyes. She fidgeted this way and that trying to forget the conversation she just had with Subahu. He did not sleep throughout whole night. He continued to watch Eiravati and her behavior throughout the night.

The next morning, when Eiravati woke up, she found that Subahu was already gone. She recollected the conversation she had with her husband the previous night. His behavior towards her had been very strange. When Trinethrini joined her after her breakfast, she expressed her doubts and fears to her friend and companion, "Last night was very strange."

"What happened now?" Trinethrini asked.

"I saw something in Subahu's eyes that I have never seen before", she confessed. "It seemed as though he was baiting me to confess something."

"What was this something?"

Eiravati revealed, "I think he has guessed that I lied about Narasimha."

Trinethrini's face became serious, "Your husband is a dangerous man."

"What do you suggest? Should I confess that I found Narsimha on the banks of Mandakini?"

"Wait. Let me think first", Trinethrini said. "This situation is like playing with fire. But it looks like you don't have any other option. Your husband can't prove anything unless you confess this way or that. If you confess the truth to him, he will kill you."

"He loves me, Trinethrini. Will he not forgive me if I tell him the truth."

"A man like him loves or hates with every fibre of his being, Eira. If you tell him that you betrayed his trust, he will kill you. It is not just you. What about Narasimha? This involves the safety of his life too. You must never breathe to a single soul about the truth", Trinethrini spoke in hushed tones.