The Aryavarta Chronicles Kaurava: Book 2 by Krishna Udayasankar

further of it and, focussed on the matter at hand. Tasks such as the one he was about to perform were precious, not only for the vital part they played in his plans but also for the sheer delight they provided.
    Careful not to let thoughts of impending pleasure distract him for too long, Sanjaya shifted closer to the respected teacher and counsellor standing by his side, the subtle move creating an air of confidentiality and trust. Dron was a much older man but still a fighter to be contended with. No one, Sanjaya included, would want to put the acharya to the test. As a result, he chose his next words with great care, ‘It might just be coincidence, Acharya. Just because your son had the wrong sympathies in his youth doesn’t mean he still does. He’s older now, and far wiser.’
    Dron shook his head, his eyes fixed on his son as the tall warrior exited the well-guarded stairway to Hastina’s dungeons. ‘What business did he have there, if not his own?’ he snapped.
    Sanjaya did not reply, and in the silence they heard a palace guard snapping to attention and greeting Asvattama, who in turn made a casual enquiry as to the security arrangements for the new prisoner. Muffled by the distance, their exact words were indiscernible but the general import of their conversation was obvious.
    ‘Why should he care, unless…?’ Dron allowed his imagination to suggest many conclusions, none of them palatable.
    ‘Acharya, for what it’s worth, the Vyasa – I mean, the former Vyasa – never did doubt your son or his loyalty. Neither have your benefactors, the Kurus, ever had cause to do so. Grandsire Bhisma knows that both of you have remained true to the Firstborn cause,’ Sanjaya said, careful to lower his voice further.
    ‘With all due respect to the former Vyasa and to the Grandsire, Sanjaya, I’ve known my son a lot longer than they have. I also know the tempestuous heart Asvattama hides behind that calm exterior. There are times when I think I should’ve slit his throat myself…’
    ‘Acharya, please! There’s no proof…’
    ‘My honour won’t take proof for an answer, Sanjaya. You’ve seen the sway Bhisma holds over King Dhrupad of Panchala simply because of what that fool son of his did. Am I to be reduced to the same state because my son is equally an imbecile? No!’
    Sanjaya made to speak, but realized that Asvattama’s conversation with the guard had ended and he was now walking away. He waited till the warrior was out of sight. Next to him, Dron let out a deep breath. Sanjaya placed a gentle hand on the older man’s forearm, the way he knew Dwaipayana was wont to. ‘Acharya, please…there are few men I admire more than you and your son. And I know that even now you see what needs to be done to protect him, to protect your honour. But can you truly believe that your enemies would think the same way? King Dhrupad is more important, more powerful now than he has ever been, thanks to his alliance with the house of Dharma Yudhisthir. Do you trust that he won’t manipulate the Emperor against you? One word of Asvattama’s mistakes, of what he did before he became king of Northern Panchala, and Dhrupad will claim just cause to hunt you and your son down like rabid wolves!’
    Dron turned, his dark eyes boring into Sanjaya. Gone was the anxiety of moments ago. It was as if he had suddenly remembered that he was royal preceptor to the Kuru kings, while Sanjaya was a lowly Suta, a half-born. ‘Say whatever it is you want to say, Sanjaya,’ he said coldly. ‘Don’t presume to advise me.’
    ‘My apologies, Acharya. I only wish to point out that Asvattama is indispensable to Syoddhan, just as you were and are indispensable to Grandsire Bhisma. If Syoddhan and his friends rise to be the moral restraint on Emperor Dharma’s reign, then Asvattama will be safe.’
    ‘Are these your words, Sanjaya, or the Vyasa’s?’
    ‘They are not Vyasa Markand’s – for these affairs are not his area of comfort or