The other vassal lords nearby also looked toward Ripudhaman in surprise.
Ripudhaman's smile widened. "Defeating Karna is difficult for us. Perhaps impossible. But why should we defeat him ourselves?"
Keshivarma's expression slowly changed as he began to understand.
"Once he is gone," Ripudhaman continued, "the Governor of Anga remains. So does the royal army. And neither possesses the power that Karna possesses." He gestured toward the vessel in Keshivarma's hands. "With the Bala-rasa, we can defeat them."
Keshivarma's eyes narrowed. "The problem does not disappear. As soon as we capture Anga, Karna will come flying straight back to us. He will take away the throne as easily as he took down those Asuras today."
Ripudhaman's smile did not disappear. "That is why I asked you to perform this yajna."
Keshivarma looked at him.
"Why do you think I asked you to invoke the blessings of Lord Varuna instead of going directly to Devraj Indra?"
Keshivarma said nothing.
"Because we will do the same thing again after you are crowned King of Anga. But that time, we will perform the yajna in the name of Indradev."
Keshivarma's eyes widened. "Indra's protection?"
Ripudhaman nodded. "Exactly. Once you are crowned, we perform the yajna again, this time seeking Indradev's protection over Anga and its new king. With the protection of Devraj himself, neither Karna nor even the combined armies of Magadha and Hastinapura will be able to simply take Anga away from you. Just as a strong wall protects a city only after the foundation has first been laid, so too must we first secure the throne before we seek the shield of heaven."
Keshivarma stared at Ripudhaman. The uncertainty that had filled his face only moments earlier slowly disappeared. Hope returned to his eyes, then admiration.
"You truly thought of everything."
Ripudhaman merely smiled. "We cannot defeat Karna by matching his strength. Therefore, we must defeat the circumstances around him."
Keshivarma looked once more at the vessel in his hands. This time the Bala-rasa no longer seemed like merely a temporary gift. It had become the first piece of a much larger plan.
Neither man noticed the irony of their confidence. They were making plans around a king who had spent his entire life surviving circumstances far more dangerous than anything they had yet imagined. And Karna knew nothing of the conversation taking place behind him.
High above Anga, the divine chariot continued its journey toward Champa. The seven celestial horses moved effortlessly through the sky, while Karna stood upon the chariot, his thoughts occupied by the events of the day. The attack of Somasura, the blessing of Varuna, the strange divine mace now resting beside him, and the condition of the yajna all passed through his mind as he travelled.
He was unaware of the conspiracy taking shape in Mancherial. He did not know that Keshivarma and Ripudhaman were already planning a future war. For now, his attention remained upon Anga and the responsibilities awaiting him in Champa.
Yet as the chariot crossed over the landscape, Karna suddenly noticed something below. A river. He looked downward. Near the riverbank, a man was kneeling upon the ground, carefully shaping what appeared to be a Shivalinga from the earth. The man worked with great concentration, repeatedly smoothing the surface with his hands and adding small amounts of wet clay to the form.
Karna's chariot continued forward. He was about to pass over the place when something caught his attention. The nearly completed Shivalinga suddenly cracked. The structure leaned to one side, then collapsed completely.
Karna's eyes narrowed. He immediately pulled upon the reins. The seven divine horses slowed. The chariot descended toward the riverbank.
Karna stepped down from the chariot and walked toward the man. The man was still staring at the broken Shivalinga, his hands motionless over the fallen pieces. Karna stopped nearby. For some reason, he had felt compelled to stop. He looked at the broken Shivalinga, then at the man. Something about the scene told him that this was not merely an ordinary accident.
He walked along the riverbank for a short distance until he reached the place where the man sat beside the broken form. The poor man had lowered his head, his shoulders slumped with disappointment as he looked at the pieces of earth scattered before him. He slowly shook his head, as though he had already accepted that whatever he was trying to accomplish was simply beyond him.
Karna approached him. "Is there any problem, Mahodaya? Can I help you?"
The man looked up. For a moment he simply stared at Karna, clearly surprised by the presence of such a well-dressed and dignified stranger standing before him. He hurriedly rose to his feet and folded his hands.
"Rajan."
Karna gave him a gentle nod.
The man hesitated before speaking. "I am a helpless man who lives nearby, in Gomuki village. I was cursed by an ascetic because of a mistake I committed, and I have been paying for it for a very long time. I was told that I must form a Shivalinga and perform Abhishekam before Mahadeva, but no matter what I do, I cannot complete the Shivalinga." His eyes moved toward the broken form. "It keeps collapsing. Perhaps even Mahadeva is angry with me."
Karna smiled. "Mahadeva is perhaps the most generous being in the entire universe, Mahodaya. Even in His anger, there is love. If you have truly realized your mistake and are approaching Him with sincerity, I do not believe He would turn away from you. Just as a father does not abandon a child who returns with a repentant heart, so too does Mahadeva receive those who come to Him with pure intention."
The man's expression softened slightly.
"Anyway," Karna continued, "I can at least help you make the Shivalinga."
The man stared at him. "You?" He looked at Karna's clothes and bearing, still unable to reconcile what he was seeing. "Rajan, you look like a king. You will help someone like me?"
Karna smiled. "Why not? In front of Mahadeva, what is a king and what is a commoner? Before Him, everyone is the same."
Without giving the matter any further importance, Karna lowered himself to the ground and sat beside the broken Shivalinga. He paid no attention to whether his simple dhoti would become covered in dirt. The man continued looking at him in disbelief.
Karna gestured toward the river. "How about you bring some water from the river?"
The man nodded and picked up his pot. He was about to leave when Karna stopped him.
"Before filling the pot, first pray to the River Goddess and ask for Her blessing. Only then fill the vessel."
The man stared at Karna for a moment. Then he nodded respectfully. "Yes, Rajan."
He walked toward the river. Karna watched him leave before turning his attention to the ground. He picked up a handful of the earth and allowed it to fall slowly between his fingers.
"The sand is too soft. No wonder it did not work."
Karna pushed the loose earth aside and walked toward another section of the riverbank. He crouched near the waterline and gathered sand from there instead. This sand was slightly wet, compact, and clean, having remained mostly undisturbed beneath the constant movement of the river.
"This will hold."
He gathered enough and carried it back to the place where the man had been sitting. By then the man had already returned with the water.
Karna motioned for him to sit. "Let us begin."