Crown of Serpents
Sierra Storm
Copyright © 2024 by Sierra Storm.
All rights reserved. Published by Pen and Glory Press, LLC.
No portion of this book may be reproduced in any form without written permission from the publisher or author, except as permitted by U.S. copyright law.
Central cover graphic designed on Midjourney.
1. Chapter One
2. Chapter Two
3. Chapter Three
4. Chapter Four
5. Chapter Five
6. Chapter Six
7. Chapter Seven
8. Chapter Eight
9. Chapter Nine
10. Chapter Ten
11. Chapter Eleven
12. Chapter Twelve
13. Chapter Thirteen
14. Chapter Fourteen
15. Chapter Fifteen
16. Chapter Sixteen
17. Chapter Seventeen
18. Chapter Eighteen
19. Chapter Nineteen
20. Chapter Twenty
21. Chapter Twenty-One
22. Chapter Twenty-Two
23. Chapter Twenty-Three
24. Chapter Twenty-Four
25. Chapter Twenty-Five
26. Chapter Twenty-Six
27. Chapter Twenty-Seven
28. Chapter Twenty-Eight
About The Author
Chapter One
IT IS ALWAYS IMPORTANT to remember one’s origin, and mine was grounded in the mud.
Mud might as well have been our family crest. Mud was pliable, dark, unpredictable. That was what we aspired to be. Mud was permanent, too. It outlasted everything it touched. My oldest sister, Sthenno, always told me to think of mud whenever I felt lost or afraid.
Ever since my earliest memories, whenever I tried to get my grounding, I thought about mud and traced a mental path back to my home and my family and myself. And right now, “home” was in a dark, muddy cave in the land of Eternal Night. “Family” was me and my two sisters and the constant stench of fish and sweat they exuded.
And “myself” was...
I didn’t know, and at that point, all the other thoughts in my brain ground to a halt. It didn’t matter what I was or who I was. Knowing
the truth wouldn’t change my reality. And my reality was this: I was a monster, a snake-headed gorgon named Medusa. I’d been alive and then dead and was now alive again with no memory of who had brought me back or how. And ever since I came back, I’d felt different, like I’d put on someone else’s shoes by mistake and had gotten stuck wearing them.
My sisters were away for now. Thank goodness. Sthenno was the largest of us and the oldest, and she delegated our work and made the judgments. Euryale was the middle child and did everything Sthenno willed. I was the youngest, and in the old days, that meant I was left out of their adventures. Now I felt more involved than I wanted to be.
Second to mud on my hierarchy of the universe came stone. Not rock like the carbonated walls of our cave—smooth stone, carved stone.
I was looking at stone right now. Any stranger wading into our murky backyard would think that he stood in the middle of a forest of pale gray formations. Then he would see the features, and then— no, there was never any then after that. We killed explorers before they had a chance to ask questions.
Diefirst,askquestionslater, as I could imagine Sthenno moralizing if the issue ever came up.
I was a gorgon. That was my proper identity. That was the only real identity I could claim for myself, and I should have known better than to disdain it. Even if I lived in a cave and my sisters were snake-crazed monstrosities, I did have a home and family. I had a
friend, too, a wayward nymph named Onyx who was acting as my nursemaid for the duration of my recovery from being dead.
Onyx was with me now, in fact. Even I couldn’t see her easily in the dark. She moved about like a wraith in a black robe, placing her finger under the chin of an adventurer who had frozen himself in my gaze.
“You haven’t been kissed in a long time,” she said to the statue, leaning forward seductively and not even noticing me. “What was your name? I’ll bet even the gods were jealous of you at some point. Actually, I guarantee it. That’s how bad things happen, you know. You mortals take one step too far and get carried away in your pride, in your growing technologies and abilities.”
She spoke every word like she was seducing him, actively trying to make love to the petrified man while relating to him the story of his own destruction.
I drew near and watched in silence. “Are you going to kiss him already, or what?”
Onyx was a virgin nymph, but no one would have guessed it. Her fall happened after Artemis had asked her to be one of her companions, and she made up a story on the fly about being in love with a fisherman near our own shores. When Artemis had asked further questions, Onyx had run down here and asked for help from me and my sisters. Artemis never followed, and Onyx proceeded to move in. She said Poseidon had given her protection against our usually fatal spell and she enjoyed the privacy of the deep.
Now she straightened and twisted her hair into an improvised braid. “Don’t be silly. Anything more than flirtation is a waste of
time.”
“I wanted to know if I should be concerned,” I said. “What’s his name?”
“He looks like an Agathon, don’t you think?” she asked. “Or an Agron, or something with an A.”
“Apollo?”
She slapped a hand over her mouth in mischievous delight. “You’re doing spanking today, I see. Have you had anything to eat?”
I tensed. Ever since I’d been brought back, several weeks or months ago, I hadn’t been able to kill anything. Even the snakes in my head had been more docile than ever. And not killing meant not eating. Also unemployment a topic I would rather not think about. “I came to ask you about that, actually. Where’s breakfast?”
Onyx wiped her hands in the air dramatically. “Eaten. Mine, at least.”
“Onyx…”
“I’m not your maid. You’ve been up and about just fine the past few days, and I’m pretty certain that if you’re hungry, you can find something to eat yourself.”
“I’m not ready yet.”
“Maybe if you lie down and open your mouth, a spider will crawl inside,” she said with a sneaky grin. “Come on. To the river.” Onyx moved away from the statue unceremoniously.
I followed her to the river that ran through our property. We had an island of our own. It was always dark here, even in the middle of the day. No one knew why. The gods liked it better that way. I imagined that we lived in a cave deep underground, but sometimes I
could see the constellations glittering overhead on a moonless night. We weren’t under a cave. We were under a curse.
The water around our island, including the stream that cut through the middle, was dark and muddy and always smelled like seaweed and rot. It was good for two things only. One was the constant flow of fish and eels it brought in. The second was to wash off the stench of fish and body odor when used for bathing and replace it with an earthier scent. I hadn’t taken a single bath since my resurrection. My natural odor made the bile build up in my throat, and I wondered if I had become delicate.
True gentility lingered beyond my reach. There were only a few who were allowed actual delicacy and refinement. There were the Olympians on their marble thrones with clouds floating around them. Then there were the wealthier mortals, who had built palaces of their own and lived in a similar state to the Olympians, with marble columns and entertainment and an array of fresh wines to drink.
Then came the lesser gods, the demigods, the traders and sailors living off of smaller fortunes, the commoners with boiled water and hunted meat, the peasants with their smokestacks, the destitute, the cursed, and then us: the monsters. We were not allowed delicacy.
Onyx pinched her nose together before submerging herself in the frigid water ahead of me. I didn’t need to submerge myself. I could see down here far better than she could, and even now I spied a few wiggling life forms exploring my waist and legs from where I stood.
When she resurfaced, her right hand was holding a wriggling brown eel little more than an elver. “Fresh as we’re going to get it,”
she said proudly, releasing her nose at last. “Here, take it.”
I swallowed. “An eel? What happened to carp?”
“I guess they’re not in season. Unless you’d rather take a look,” she said.
The eel had eyes. All the fish we got from our river had eyes, but in this moment it was like I was seeing them for the first time. They were stupid eyes, animal eyes without any intelligence behind them. But they were alive and frightened, and when I looked at them something pinched me from the inside.
Onyx held the wiggling thing in front of me. It was small, little more than the length of a finger, but it had too much life in it for me.
“I’m sorry,” I stammered. “I can’t do it. Could you kill it for me?”
“What’s wrong? You’re strong enough to snap it,” she said.
“It’s wiggling,” I said. “It just looks like it’s suffering right now, and I...”
“And you woke up with a conscience this morning like a good little girl,” Onyx chided. She snapped the eel under the head. Then she ripped the eel in half unceremoniously and gave it to me. “Forget it. We don’t want you to be good. We want you to be strong. Remind me not to be so nice to you later.”
I accepted the bottom half without comment and looked at the pale meat inside. Thisfeltwrong.Thisfeltsowrong.WhydidIhate thissomuch?I wrinkled my nose. “Does this smell all right to you?”
“Smells like eel.”
“No, I think there’s something else.... Maybe he ate something?”
“It’s a ‘he’ now?” asked Onyx.
“I just don’t feel like eel. Maybe mackerel, or carp, or something else.”
“Squid?”
“Sure.”
“Eat the eel and I’ll get you one.”
One of these days I’d have to kill Onyx if only to keep her from torturing me like this. I had never understood how I possibly could have had a stronger sense of right and wrong than she did. Right now she took a bite from the middle of her half, and I almost retched watching.
Was this my life now? Forget the “now.” This was always my life. This had always been my life. This would always continue to be my life until the end—either the end of the world or the end of me.
Onyx took another bite. I nibbled the meat from my eel half and dropped the rest behind my shoulder when she wasn’t looking. Onyx liked to suck when she ate. She reveled in the disgustingness of our lives down here and now let the juice drain down her chin like she wanted to bathe herself in a pool of eel fluid.
When she finished, she dropped her half of the corpse into the water. “Are you full?”
My empty stomach chose that moment to rumble. “Yes. Stuffed. Couldn’t eat more if I wanted to.” At least the last part was honest. “You know, I’m thinking of going out there. Stretching my legs and finding a beach somewhere. You know, the kind of beach with white sand and white shells and children playing under the white sun... and just sitting out there. For hours. That would be so fun, wouldn’t it?”
“After turning everyone to stone?” Her eyes glittered with her own devious plan.
“No,” I said. “I’d cover myself up, you see. Wear a hat to hide my eyes so that no one would look into them by accident.”
“What would you do when they saw you, though?” asked Onyx. “You’d look like a scraggly swamp creature compared to those people. And smell like a whale. And the snakes would get curious, and they’d probably want to kill you on sight anyway because clearly, you’re not a lonely woman on the path to visit estranged family. You’d have to look like me if you wanted to go anywhere.”
It was true. Onyx was one of the most beautiful individuals I’d ever seen. She had slick, blue-black hair that fell in a natural A-line around her shoulders, full breasts, round silver eyes and lips that, when she wasn’t thinking anything in particular, fell into a sensuous pout. It was no wonder men were warned against falling in love with nymphs.
“I don’t suppose I could carve your face off and wear it as a mask,” I suggested.
“I don’t see why you don’t just appreciate what we have here,” she said, stepping deeper into the river. “Mystery. Privacy. And all the hunks a pair of girls like us could ever hope for.” She waved her hand around the statues. “There’s a lot of power in a place like this. We can do anything we like and get away with it. There aren’t any rules down here, and I find the freedom exhilarating.”
I didn’t respond to her right away. Instead I looked at the statues all frozen in horror. I heard the way they’d screamed when my sisters and I had turned them to stone. And I imagined what would
happen if one of them had decided to wake up just then, to spring back to life and find himself here in a cave of blackness with all these others and me.
This was where my imagination took a wrong turn. I should have pictured myself intimidating the heroes, fighting them and freezing them back. I should have imagined my ultimate victory over them.
But apparently, the practical side of my brain was still petrified. I returned to a favorite daydream of mine and pictured one of the statues coming back to life, an attractive prince with dark hair. He would be frightened, and I, like any gorgon worth her salt, would close in on him and tell him that it was all over. Then he would lower his sword. He wouldn’t look at me. If I was going to kill him, I would need to do it the old-fashioned way. And I would tell him that I didn’t need to kill him. That maybe we could talk first, and he could tell me about life in the more civilized parts of the world.
After that, we’d sit together over a mackerel dinner and he’d show me how to build a fire and cook the meat before eating it.
I needed to give him a name if I wanted to imagine anything further. I glanced at him again and ran through my list of preferred names. Timothaeus. Timothaeus with curly dark hair and a strong, jutting chin, who would tell me that he was never afraid of me and wanted to take me back to his own palace in Argos.
I formed the name on my lips slowly, staring at the figure I’d used for my mental model. I could almost see the life returning to him this moment.
“Medusa?”
Onyx had moved some steps in front of me and now stood on the drier mud on the shore. I picked up the hem of my raggy, stainridden linen robe and followed her out. “Sorry, I was just thinking.”
“What about?”
I turned my head to look back at Timothaeus. “About those men. You don’t suppose that any of them could come back to life, do you? The same way I did?”
“Oh, I wouldn’t worry about that,” said Onyx. “I’m pretty sure your divine rescuer wanted to bring you back and none of the others.”
“You’re right,” I said. But that was another problem. No one knew who my rescuer was. After my last foe, a hero named Perseus, had frozen me with a mirror, he had severed my head and carried it with him back to his palace. Someone had stolen my head back, patched it onto my body, and then resurrected me as easily as repairing a cracked piece of pottery.
No one knew who brought me back. Clearly it was one of the gods, or one of their equals. No one else would have had the power to reverse my own magic, which I had always considered permanent. I woke up here on this very shore and crawled into the cave where I lived, and my sisters carried me to bed instantly.
That would have been the end of it if I hadn’t been so bent on finding an interpretation. I wanted to think that it was a sign, that I had a guardian out there, that someone was watching me from a distance and cheering me on, and that in the end of it all, I’d be able to rise from these depths and find my real purpose in life.
I was still following behind Onyx. If I didn’t say something soon, she’d pry further. And I couldn’t open up to her about my actual
concerns as it was. “What’s on your mind?” I asked.
She hugged her arms in a slight shiver. “Your sisters,” she said. “They’re coming back. If you’re there to greet them, they might be nicer to you than usual.”
She stepped aside to let me enter. She was right, of course. I could smell their sweat and the rot in their breath as they approached, even if they were too far gone to see or hear. And if they found me out here, they’d try to engage me in something I’d sooner forget.
Chapter Two
I WORE ONLY ONE outfit, a single linen robe that had originally been dusty blue in color. At least that’s what I assumed. I hadn’t seen it new. I’d plucked it off an unlucky shipwreck victim a couple years ago and had worn it every day since.
Like me, the robe had been turned to stone when I had stared into the mirror. Now I felt like I was bonded to it somehow, despite the unraveled hems and the dramatic brown and red stains from my daily encounters with mud and blood.
My robe was losing its shape. The threads holding it together had surrendered their efforts to nature, and I’d never tried putting a belt around my waist to keep it in place.
Now, while I waited for my sisters to return from their escapade to the shore, I looked down at my waist and pinched the linen closer together. I wasn’t that ugly, was I?
Onyx forgot herself during her arguments. She didn’t consider that I didn’t see myself as a hideous monster, despite the obvious facts of
my existence. Often I thought of Onyx and myself as half-sisters or something, sharers in a similar fate. She might have been the more beautiful one, the more tragic one, but she and I were alike in spirit.
When she stated how I’d look like a swamp creature compared to the villagers, I’d ignored it at the time. But now the words resurfaced and made me shiver. The image lingered like a rotting corpse in the back corner of my brain, and I wasn’t sure how to proceed.
“All that hassle and not even a meal,” a booming female voice said from outside the cave.
“Except the rats. Let’s not forget about the rats,” said its shrill companion. “Unless it eats them. Do you think it could eat rats, Sthenno?”
My sisters.
I froze in place and let my robe drop from my hands. I needed to look busy for when they came in, so I glanced around for a quick task to occupy myself with.
We had a single room in here, a dark chamber lit by one torch that was always under the threat of blowing out with a spare breeze. The three of us shared a single bed, a large mattress stuffed with a medley of hay and seaweed and whatever else we could find. It was sticky from spilled food and the juices of meals eaten on its surface long ago. There was a large pot and the promise of a soup in the future. Euryale used the pot for something once, a concoction or potion to help with a toothache, and she had never cleaned it out.
On the matted and partly dried mud that made up the floor, my eyes lit on a few scattered fish bones for meals. I bent over and
started to collect them, picking up the bones one by one and stopping now and then to wipe my hands on my dress and stretch to ease the tension in my lower back.
“And there you are, Medusa! Out of bed, I see. Your strength returns.”
I straightened to face my sister Sthenno. She was twice my size in both height and girth, with green-black snakes growing from her scalp and a simple sheet tied around her chest for clothes. Behind her trailed in Euryale, who brought in a puddle of mud that was muddier than our mud floor. Euryale held an unidentified fish in her hands, dead but uneaten. I remembered that I was still hungry.
“So, what have you been up to?” asked Sthenno. She liked to start her sentences with “so” sometimes, and the habit grated on me. “Eating alone today?”
She was looking at the fish bones in my hand.
“No,” I said. “I saw them on the floor and thought I’d clean them up. Toss them into the river.”
I knew at once that the truth was a mistake. My sisters looked at each other and more than one snake hissed at the sentiment. It was amazing that we could look at each other—that our petrifying gazes hadn’t frozen us long ago. Even though we couldn’t look at our own reflections without turning ourselves into stone, we had companionship.
Euryale giggled. Despite being older than me, Euryale was smaller. Well, shorter by a good inch or two. She was rounder than either of us, and her squat stature had a way of making her appear a slightly
different species. “Cleaning, is it?” she asked. “And whose idea was that? Our resident nymph, Onyx?”
My cheeks stung with the sudden attention. “I’ve been inside a lot lately,” I said. “Since I’ve come back. And the filth here is getting to me. Do we need it to be this messy?”
“We’re gorgons. We don’t clean,” said Euryale. The way she pronounced our station made me wince. GOR-gons, like she wanted to emphasize everything terrible about us that she could. The gore. The grossness. The terror people felt when they encountered us. Worse, she pulled her lips up when she pronounced the s at the end to hiss, possibly in an imitation of her snakes. This action exposed her two front teeth between her fangs and the gap between them. Sometimes I was glad that people who saw us never lived to tell the tale. I couldn’t look that terrible, could I? Like them? I could feel my own fangs poking over my lower lip, and in that moment I hated what I was. “We could clean if we wanted to,” I said. “Cleanliness has nothing to do with who we are.”
Euryale snorted.
Sthenno crossed her arms and adopted the pose of an Olympian matriarch. She would look very good with gray hair right now, and a posse of half-divine spawn standing at attention to carry out her next command. “So you have some loose energy rattling around in your skeleton and decide to do some redecorating in our absence, is that it?” she asked.
“Guilty,” I said.
Sthenno extended her hand, and I surrendered the fish bones. She dropped them on the floor. Well, not dropped them so much as she
scattered them. She sowed them like she expected them to take root and grow into full fish if we left them there long enough. This was her way of telling me she did not want me to pick them back up later. “And now you’re making excuses? I know what you need. You need a day out in the sun.”
I blinked in wonder. Had I heard her right?
I said nothing at first because I wasn’t sure if I had understood her in context. I fantasized about my daydreamed beach and sitting there on the clean white sands under a cloudless sky. Then I pictured Sthenno sitting next to me lecturing on the beauty of the murky depths in front of us, and Euryale automatically agreeing with everything she said while sucking on a spare fish bone. The dream faded.
“What do you mean?” I asked.
“We found a prize on our expedition and brought it back home,” she said. “A flying horse. Flying, with the wings of a dove. Go see for yourself—either this creature means something to the gods, or he’s the genetic misfit of the century.”
“A horse? You captured a horse?” I moved to the entrance of the cave automatically. There it was, a majestic stallion who raised his head in my presence. The animal didn’t glow, but he was the wrong shade of ghostly white for a place this dark. I restrained myself from jumping and spooking him.
At first, I saw nothing unusual about the horse except for his color. He was beautiful, and seeing him trapped down here made me shiver. He must have come from an ever-flowering pasture. He must have eaten the golden apples of the gods.
I extended my hand. “Hey, there. It’s all right. I’m not going to hurt you.”
The horse snorted and whinnied, raising his giant wings high over his head.
I covered my mouth with my hands. This wasn’t a horse—not in the conventional sense. He was intelligent. Like us. He could see right through me, and the fact that I hadn’t turned a sentient creature into stone meant that he was protected by a stronger force than me or my sisters. I turned and ran back inside, where my sisters gathered around our cave opening in eagerness to see my reaction.
“What do you think?” asked Euryale. “It’s a plump one, isn’t it?”
I wet my lips before speaking. “What is that? What are we doing with that horse?”
“Someone abandoned him out there,” said Sthenno. “I figured we would appreciate him more.”
“Appreciate him? He belongs to someone,” I said.
“I told Sthenno to bring him back,” said Euryale. “He’ll make good leverage someday, don’t you think? Whenever his master appears? Someone out there misses him.”
Sthenno cleared her throat. “The horse can wait, but I thought you might like to see it. Medusa, Eury and I found some new traps near Senapo.” said Sthenno. “Now that you’re up on your feet, you need to jump back into the action as soon as you can.”
I knew what she was asking for now and I didn’t want to give it. I hated this. I hated having to rebel like this, having to say no. I’d hoped until now that after my recovery, Sthenno and Euryale could
have their own lives and I could have mine just as soon as I’d figured out what mine was. “You want me to go steal for you?”
“And take care of anyone who catches you in the act,” she said.
She clacked her fingernails together when she spoke. Sthenno’s hands were longer than mine or Euryale’s, and her knuckles stuck out enough to give each of them a separate shape. Her nails were long as well and looked more like claws than common nails. “You can take one of them. I don’t care which. If you want, I could send Eury over to flip one of their boats. You can take the first one to fall, and as far as everyone else will know, he never got back up to begin with. An innocent drowning. It’s not about morality. It’s about following the course of nature.”
Sometimes I felt that the weight of Sthenno’s role got to her head. She saw herself as a guardian, as a protector of the way things should rightfully be. A goddess in her own right. And nothing was more important to her than her crusade of enforcement.
I tapped my chest delicately. “Do you think I even care about the morality?”
“You’re the one who asked about stealing,” she said, and her fat nostrils flared to become even fatter. “I know you thinkyou’ve been subtle, but we all know you’re not the same sister we lost back there. You’ve gotten soft. Only half alive, as it were. And if we do nothing to harden you up, you’ll mope down here until the end of the world, and what end could torture you worse than that?”
Euryale stepped to the side. She was chewing on a bite she’d taken from the side of her fish. “The skin’s rubbery,” she said. “I hate when
that happens. What do you think, Sthenno?” She held the fish forward like an offering.
Sthenno took the animal without even looking at our sister and took a bite out of it, and then she handed it to me. “So we all know you’re hungry,” she said. “You’ve eaten nothing but seaweed the past few weeks, and your skin sags off your bones because of it. A little rubber and blubber will do you good.”
My stomach crawled at the sight. I took the still unidentified fish and nibbled at a whiter part of the meat until they relaxed. Then I handed it back to Euryale. “Here. You finish it. I tasted nothing suspicious.”
Euryale stepped away with her prize, sucking and smacking her lips between bites.
Now Sthenno and I stood alone together. “I think you’re right that I need to get out there more,” I told my older sister. “And I plan to do that. But not just now, or for one or two quick errands. I’ve decided I’m going to move away.”
I didn’t know what made me say those words. Until that moment, I hadn’t planned anything at all. I balanced myself on the balls of my feet and watched the eerie glare in Sthenno’s eyes as she considered the statement. There was something back there, a dark and terrifying force, the magic that had turned countless men to stone. That had brought me to stone as well. I was more sensitive to it now that I was back. My sisters’ eyes hurt when I saw them.
“To move away?” Sthenno asked.
Move away. Move away would have been fine. Why did she insist on including the “to” in there?
“That’s right,” I said, digging my toes into the mud for a firmer hold. “I’m going to Argos. I’ll find a patch of unclaimed territory and make it my lair,” I said.
Again with that look.
I glanced away. “I mean,” I added, knowing that I needed to add something if I wanted to lessen her judgment, “we’ve already done everything we can around here. We need to diversify our portfolio. Everyone knows that the kingdom of Argos is the future. That’s where all of tomorrow’s heroes will come from. I thought if maybe we spread out and had different patches to live in, we could stifle them.”
Now Sthenno’s lips parted in a toothy grin. Her teeth were much straighter than Euryale’s but had visible traces of rot, and I always wondered if she would lose them one of these days despite her natural immortality. “Medusa, you might still have a good brain in there after all,” she said. “You’re absolutely right. Eury, did you hear that?”
Euryale looked up from her now mostly-eaten fish. Her bite marks dotted it in a random pattern from head to tail. She licked her lips and curved her tongue deftly around her fangs. “Right. We’ll need a portfolio of diverse heroes to eat patches from. Count me in.”
It was close enough. Sthenno began clacking her nails together again and traipsing across our room as her plan took hold. Or my plan. She’d taken to it so strongly that I’d forgotten that it came from my lips first. “So we’ll go to Argos together. Rise up and take one-tenth of their population. When they retaliate in fear, we’ll
spread to three corners of the land and close in until we reach the palace. This is beautiful.”
“Only doing my best,” I said, tilting my head to the side in a modest bow.
“We’ll leave at once and scout the terrain. Eury, you can go tell that nymph to join us if she still wants to tag along. Medusa, I know a current that can get us there in minutes. Come with me right now, and we can find a good landing spot.”
I turned to Euryale just in time to see her pop the fish’s entire head in her mouth and enclose her lips around it with a satisfied hum. What had I done? We’d always lived in this cave. Leaving it was unholy. It was a breach of ancient tradition, and I couldn’t believe that my sisters agreed to go along with it.
Chapter Three
“ARE YOU SERIOUS ABOUT this?” I asked as Sthenno and I approached the river. “About leaving our cave? Moving to Argos? Are we really considering that for our future?”
My sister licked her index finger and held it in the air to test the wind current. “Why, did you think I enjoyed stagnation?”
“I thought you’d say I was being rash.”
Sthenno’s navigational skills spoke for themselves. Her wings spread wider than mine or Euryale’s, and once she caught a current in the right direction, we flew without interruption. It would be flattering to say that we traveled like birds, soaring through the skies to reach the oceanside—but our abilities only hovered near the grotesque. We dipped below the water for a stretch and then hovered around it. Droplets and bubbles combined to make our view a kaleidoscope of the elements spinning and sputtering until we made an occasional pause to adjust our direction.
“There’s nothing rash about initial research. We’ll scout it out and see how far we can get,” she said. “No commitment.”
Sthenno and I darted over and under the water as we moved. She tugged my hand every so often to determine a new direction, and I followed her with blind trust.
We could hold our breaths indefinitely when we traveled. I didn’t understand the mechanics. Sometimes I felt like my oxygen intake came from my snakes, which were possibly enhanced with tiny gills I couldn’t see. Sometimes I felt that I didn’t need oxygen at all and that my breathing was merely a habit.
I noticed the water growing warmer as we neared our destination, and I relaxed. Sthenno and Euryale both appeared to like the cold the best, but I’d always differed from them in that. Give me something sunlit any day.
In addition, my visibility grew until I could see underwater without the need for Sthenno’s constant cues. The sand appeared below the surface, and it was pale and refined. The fish grew smaller and more playful like they were merely decorative accessories instead of creatures who lurked in the depths like we did. The corals grew as well around us, blooming in color and expression like flowers in a grassy meadow.
Ahead of us was the beach. I fought the temptation to ask to stop and spend some time relaxing on the powdery sand, but Sthenno could not understand relaxation. Unlike me, Sthenno never fought to escape from our life, but only to escape deeper into it.
We stopped in the shallow part of the water. I glanced around for a quick survey. White sand, blue skies illuminated by a blinding sun,
and steep rocks where the waves rolled onto the shore.
Tugging on Sthenno’s hand, I dragged her toward the rock that would hide us best. She followed, glancing with approval at our surroundings. Only our eyes lifted over the surface of the water, and we didn’t stand until we knew we were safe. The water barely reached my waist.
“It’s a busy day, sounds like,” said Sthenno. “I’d hoped we’d be alone so we could map out the terrain. Do you want to wait to see if they leave on their own, or strike at once?”
I hadn’t noticed the people before because I had been too busy noticing the sheer brightness of this place. I couldn’t believe that Sthenno wasn’t as stunned by the sunlight and pure white sand as I was. She looked at me, and her eyes narrowed into a squint while she waited for an answer.
I nodded and tried to look studious. This was something I’d often done if I wanted Sthenno to leave me alone. She had labeled me as the smart one long ago. If Sthenno thought leaving me alone would give me ideas, she did it, and sometimes I had been able to steal precious moments to myself simply by telling her I was trying to think or by creasing my brows a certain way. Looking ponderous.
“Perseus, did you say?” It was a man’s voice that was speaking, and my heart skipped a beat when I heard the name. Perseus.
The man with a mirror for a shield.
The man who wielded my magic against me.
The man who had killed me.
It all came back to me now like a blow to my gut.
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that are terrible in consequence of (their) tusks, and that are fierce as the (all-destroying) fire at the end of the Yuga, I cannot recognize the points of the horizon nor can I command peace of mind. Be gracious, O god of gods, O thou that art the refuge of the universe. And all these sons of Dhritarashtra, together with the hosts of kings, and Bhisma and Drona and also Suta’s this son (Karna) accompanied by even the principal warriors of our side, are quickly entering thy terrible mouths rendered fierce by thy tusks! Some, with their heads crushed, are seen striking at the interstices of (thy) teeth. As many currents of water flowing through different channels roll rapidly towards the ocean, so these heroes of the world of men enter thy mouths that flame all around. As moths with increasing speed rush for (their own) destruction to the blazing fire, so also do (these) people, with unceasing speed, enter thy mouths for their destruction. Swallowing all these men from every side thou lickest them with thy flaming mouths. Filling the whole universe with (thy) energy, thy fierce splendours, O Vishnu, are heating (everything). Tell me who thou art of (such) fierce form. I bow to thee, O chief of the gods, be gracious to me! I desire to know thee that art the primeval one, for I do not understand thy actions.”
After such an overwhelming argument addressed to the senses of his disciple, after such an astounding proof that he alone is not only the universal soul of nature but the universe itself, Krishna discloses to Arjuna the efficacy of faith above both works and contemplation. Thus says the god: “Fix thy heart on me alone, place thy understanding on me. Hereafter then shalt thou dwell in me. There is no doubt (in this);” and again: “Exceedingly dear art thou to me, therefore I will declare what is for thy benefit.... Forsaking all (religious) duties come to me as thy sole refuge, I will deliver thee from all sins.”
To assert the doctrine of the efficacy of faith is obviously the special object of the Gita; but, with the conciliatory spirit of Hinduism, it is inculcated without too great a rupture with the orthodox notions in respect to those time-honoured props and refuges of the pious Hindu,—the Vedas and Yogaism. Both these are, however, shorn of
a good deal of their importance by comparison with the new mode of attaining heaven and final emancipation—through faith in Krishna.
Though the caste-system is strongly upheld in the “Bhagavatgita,” and the practices of the Yogis sanctioned, many of the most liberal and lofty sentiments find expression in this highly remarkable poem; as when Krishna says: “Whatever form (of godhead or myself) any worshipper desireth to worship with faith, that faith of his unto that form I render steady. Endued with that faith he payeth his adoration to that (form) and obtaineth from that all his desires, since all those are ordained by me. The fruits, however, of those persons endued with little intelligence are perishable. They that worship the divinities go to the divinities, while they that worship me come even to me.” Again: “Even those devotees who, endued with faith, worship other godheads, even they, O son of Kunti, worship me alone, though irregularly.” And in another place: “In whatever manner men come to me in the self-same manner do I accept them.” Krishna also says: “I am alike to all creatures, there is none hateful to me, none dear. They, however, that worship me with reverence are in me and I also am in them.”
In this serene and lofty impartiality of sentiment the unknown author of the “Gita” has reached a level of generous and noble theology not to be surpassed and probably never before expressed. But, alas! it was impossible for him to stand alone upon this giddy height of calm philosophy, and he descends to a lower plain of sympathetic insight when his Krishna declares, that “there are two kinds of created beings in this world, viz., the godlike and the demoniac. These latter are impure, given over to their desires, and unholy, asserting that the universe is void of truth and guiding principle, and even without a ruler. Wedded to vanity, power, pride, lust and wrath, these revilers hate me in their own bodies and those of others. Those haters (of me), cruel, the vilest among men and unholy, I hurl continually down into demoniac wombs. Coming into demoniac wombs, deluded birth after birth, they, O son of Kunti, without attaining to me, go down to the vilest state.”
In regard to divine incarnation, which is an old accepted idea in Hinduism, Krishna says: “Many births of mine have passed away, O
Arjuna, as also of thine; those all I know, but thou dost not, O chastiser of foes! Though I am unborn and of essence that knoweth no deterioration, though (I am) the lord of creatures; still, relying on my own (material) nature, I take birth by my own (powers) of illusion. Whensoever, O Bharata, loss of piety occurreth and the rise of impiety, on those occasions do I create myself. For the protection of the righteous, for also the destruction of evil-doers, for the sake of establishing piety, I am born age after age.”
Whether the author of the “Bhagavatgita” borrowed ideas from Christianity or not, this, at least, is certain, that Krishna-worship is a comparatively new phase of Hinduism; that its doctrine of salvation or final emancipation by faith is also comparatively new; and that the tendency of this doctrine of faith, as taught in the “Gita,” is to wean men from rites and ceremonies, and to discourage them from the practice of Yoga.
But since it seems to be a characteristic of each successive stage of Hinduism to keep on amicable terms with those that have preceded it, the “Gita” endeavours to lead men to more doctrine of faith in Krishna, without more disparagement of orthodox ideas and practices than appeared absolutely necessary for the object in view —hence the qualified approval of Vedic rites and of Yogaism which we find in this treatise.
Of the “Bhagavatgita,” which has been extolled as a complete system of Indian religious philosophy, this brief note will, I believe, give a sufficient idea.[119] It is, as regards Hinduism, an eclectic system upon which has been grafted a new principle, the doctrine of salvation by faith, which may or may not be of foreign origin. Its lofty ideas and transcendental philosophy appeal with subtle force to the higher feelings of the thoughtful Hindu. I have known a clever young student of the “Gita” so powerfully affected by its teaching as to lose mental balance to the extent of believing himself to be Arjuna. When this hallucination passed away his one burning desire was to retire from the world in order to live the life of the Rishis of old.
For my own part I leave this highest attainment of Indian religious philosophy with mingled feelings of admiration and sadness.
In every nation men have allowed their speculative imaginations to play around the great mystery of the Universe. The author of the “Gita” has dreamed his dream as well as the others; and, like Plato[120] and the rest, has presented as a solution of the grand problem of existence his own fancies and his own guess-work. And these dreams, fancies and guesses—labelled theology or philosophy as the case may be—have been accepted as eternal verities and passed down from generation to generation, only to be superseded, in their turn, by other equally substantial fancies, equally irrefragable verities.
In leaving the “Gita,” however, let us at least admit that the Indian poet’s dream was not deficient in nobility of sentiment and grandeur of conception.
APPENDIX III
T S N D
There was once a powerful King of the Nishadhas, named Nala, who was as beautiful as the god of love himself. He was, moreover, an honourable man, highly accomplished, and especially well-versed in the management of horses, but he had a weakness for dice.
Contemporary with Nala was Bhima, King of the Vidharbas, a formidable monarch, and father of Damayanti, the most lovely maiden in the world. Fame had carried to Nala the report of Damayanti’s unrivalled charms and had made him quite love-sick. The fair lady, too, had often been told of the manly beauty and grace of the King of the Nishadhas, and had had a tender chord in her heart touched by what she had heard. Thus were these two young people actually in love with each other, although they had never met or even exchanged glances.
The enamoured king naturally sought solitude; and one day, while moodily lounging in the inner gardens of his palace, he saw some strange-looking swans with golden wings. He caught one of them with his hands. The bird immediately addressed his captor, asking to be spared, and promising to speak to Damayanti about him “in such a way that she will not ever desire to have any other person for her lord.” Of course the swan was liberated there and then and, proceeding at once along with his fellows to the land of the Vidharbas, alighted in the gardens where Damayanti was sporting with her maids. The fair princess was eager to catch the strange birds as soon as she observed them; so she and her attendants began to run after the golden-winged swans, who fled in all directions without taking wing. One of these birds led the eager Damayanti away from her companions, and then, seizing the opportunity, told the charming girl about Nala and his beauty, winding up with these words: “Thou also art a jewel among thy sex as Nala is
the prime among men. The union of the best with the best is happy.” To which the gratified princess replied: “Do thou speak thus unto Nala also.”
The adventure with the swan had such an effect upon the princess that she became melancholy, pale-faced, and lean. Her thoughts were of Nala only, and she could find no pleasure in her surroundings. Her father noticed the change with much anxiety and, after weighing the matter, concluded that the best thing he could do would be to find a husband for his daughter.
He accordingly gave notice, far and wide, to the kings and princes of the land that Damayanti would hold her swayamvara on a certain date.
From every direction suitors thronged to Bhima’s capital in the hope of winning the much-coveted beauty whose fame filled the whole earth. The celestial Rishi, Narada, on a casual visit to Indra’s Heaven, made passing reference to Damayanti’s transcendent beauty and to her approaching swayamvara. The gods, excited by his words, exclaimed in rapture: “We also will go there,” and four of them, the Lokapalas or guardians of the world—Indra, Yama, Varuna and Kuvera—set out without delay for the country of the Vidharbas, accompanied by their attendants.
On the way they met the handsome and virtuous Nala bent on the same errand. Leaving their celestial cars in the sky, they descended to the earth and entered into converse with the king. Without revealing themselves to him they cunningly got him to promise to help them, and when he had done so requested him to go to Damayanti and inform her that the Lokapalas were amongst the suitors for her hand, and to request her to choose one of them for her lord.
Poor Nala explained his own feelings with respect to the fair princess, and the hopes with which he was hastening to the swayamvara. He also protested that it would be impossible for him to have an interview with Damayanti in her well-guarded palace. But the gods removed this last difficulty, Indra simply saying: “Thou shalt be able to enter.” And so it proved; for it was not long before Nala
found himself in the inner apartments of the palace. His wonderful beauty created a great sensation amongst the astonished women of the zenana. Damayanti was the first to recover from the surprise of his unexpected presence in the inner apartments, and smilingly addressed the intruder in these by no means harsh words: “What art thou, O thou of faultless features, that hast come here, awakening my love. O sinless one, O hero of celestial form, I am anxious to know who thou art that hast come hither, and why thou hast come hither. And how it is that thou hast not been discovered by anyone, considering that my apartments are well-guarded[124] and the king’s mandates are stern.”
Nala with a sad heart told her who he was, and honourably discharged the distasteful duty imposed upon him by the celestials. Undazzled by the prospect of having a god for her husband, Damayanti, with charming simplicity, said to Nala with a smile: “O king, love me and command me what I shall do for thee. Myself and what else of wealth is mine are thine.... If thou forsake me who adore thee, for thy sake will I resort to poison or fire, or water, or the rope.” Nala dwelt upon the danger of offending the gods, and advised the princess to choose one of her celestial suitors for her lord and no blame would attach to him; but she told him to come himself to the swayamvara and she would there give him her hand in the presence of the celestials.
Nala returned to the Lokapalas, who were eager in their inquiries about the details of his mission. He faithfully related what had passed between himself and Damayanti, even so far as to tell them that the maiden had expressed her determination to choose him for her husband. Having discharged his obligations with strict fidelity, Nala left the issue in the hands of the gods.
On the day of the swayamvara the astonished princess saw, on entering the hall, not one but five Nalas before her, all seated together. Unable to discriminate from amongst them the King of the Nishadhas, the fond maiden tremblingly prostrated herself before the five and, in an appeal full of sweet confidence, begged the gods to reveal themselves to her, as she had in her heart chosen Nala for her lord. Touched by her simple prayer, the Lokapalas resumed their
celestial attributes, and the fair maiden thereupon bashfully caught the hem of Nala’s garment and placed the garland round his neck. The gods were pleased with the issue, and generously bestowed many boons upon their successful rival, who, appreciating the great honour that had been shown him, addressed Damayanti in these words: “Since thou, O blessed one, hast chosen a mortal in the presence of the celestials, know me for a husband ever obedient to thy command. And, O thou of sweet smiles, truly do I tell thee this that as long as life continueth in this body of mine I will remain thine and thine alone.” The charming damsel, of course, made a suitable response. Everything was arranged satisfactorily, the wedding was duly celebrated, and the King of the Nishadhas returned home with his lovely bride.
But, as the course of true love never does run smooth, there was sorrow awaiting the young couple. It happened that, as the gods were returning from Damayanti’s swayamvara, they met Kali with Dwapara on the way to the capital of the Vidharbas. It was to seek Damayanti’s hand that Kali[125] was journeying thither, and it was with great displeasure that he learned that the swayamvara was over and that Nala had obtained the prize.
In his wicked heart he planned to ruin the happiness of Nala, and with that object in view proceeded to his city. Watching his opportunity—which presented itself in the neglect by the king of some trifling ceremonial observance—Kali entered his person and took complete possession of him. The fiend also stirred up Pushkara to challenge Nala to play with him with dice. Nala could not refuse, and, being under the influence of Kali, gambled recklessly and, needless to say, unsuccessfully; for the dice were not ordinary dice, but Dwapara himself transformed. The gambling match lasted for months, and Nala lost everything he possessed, including his kingdom. During the continuance of the match Nala was like one deprived of reason, so his wife sent her two children away to her parents in charge of a faithful charioteer. His successful opponent suggested that he might now stake Damayanti as he had lost everything else; but Nala, his heart full of rage, rose with silent dignity and, stripping himself of all his ornaments, left the city
Damayanti, clad in a single piece of cloth—a sari, no doubt— followed him into exile.
Pushkara issued an order that no one should assist Nala under pain of death, so the ex-king and his consort were left to shift for themselves. In the hope of capturing some wild birds in the wood Nala threw his cloth over them, but they rose and flew away with it, leaving him naked. He now shared Damayanti’s single garment, and the pair were soon in the greatest extremities of distress. He could not humble himself to seek the assistance of his wife’s people, but, thinking that if she were alone, Damayanti might find an asylum with them, Nala, instigated still by vindictive Kali, abandoned his lovely wife one night in the lonesome forest. Her grief and despair upon finding herself deserted were most pathetic. With loud lamentations she wandered hither and thither like a maniac, and came unexpectedly upon a huge serpent, who quietly coiled himself about her gentle form and would have killed her very soon, had not a hunter come to her rescue and, with his sharp sword, cut off the serpent’s head. Inquiries and explanations followed, with the result that, “beholding that beautiful woman clad in half a garment, with deep bosom and round hips and limbs delicate and faultless, and face resembling the full moon, and eyes graced with curved eyelashes, and speech sweet as honey, the hunter became inflamed with desire.” But virtuous Damayanti in great anger repulsed the wretch and cursed him so that he fell down dead at her feet.
Alone in the vast forests, peopled by wild beasts and infested by thieves and Mleccha-tribes, poor bewildered Damayanti wandered about in quest of Nala; asking, in her trouble, the fierce tiger and the silent mountain to tell her where her lord had gone. After wandering about for three days and three nights the unfortunate queen came to the delightful asylum of some ascetics, and, entering it fearlessly but with great humility, she was welcomed by the holy men, who, struck by her beauty, inquired whether she was the presiding deity of the forest, the mountain, or the river. Damayanti explained her situation and received from the ascetics most comforting assurances of early reunion with Nala and great future happiness. After which “the
ascetics with their sacred fires and asylum vanished from sight,” to the great amazement of the queen.
Further wanderings in the denser parts of the forest brought Damayanti into a somewhat open space, where she found a party of merchants encamped beside a stream with their horses, elephants, and other beasts of burden. The merchants could give her no information about Nala, for, as the leader of the party assured her, she was the only human being they had met in those vast forests. However, as they were bound for the city of Suvahu, Damayanti attached herself to the caravan. The distance to be traversed was evidently a very long one and the forest very extensive; for, after they had proceeded many days, they were still in the woods, and one evening encamped on the border of a lovely lotus-covered lake. In the dead of night a herd of wild elephants coming down to the lake discovered the tame elephants belonging to the merchants and instantly made a furious onslaught upon them. Indescribable confusion followed. Some members of the party were trampled to death under the feet of the mighty beasts, some perished by their huge tusks, others fled for safety in all directions. The fugitives concealed themselves in the thickets or took refuge in the branches of trees. Horses, camels and elephants, fighting with each other and rushing about in frantic terror, added to the wild confusion of the dreadful scene of disorder and uproar, which was intensified by the outbreak of a terrible fire. Amidst the general panic, the shouts and cries of men and the noise of wounded and furious animals, Damayanti naturally awoke in the greatest alarm; but she soon had occasion for special fear for her own personal safety from an unexpected quarter.
“And those of the caravan that had escaped unhurt, met together, and asked one another, ‘Of what deed of ours is this the consequence? Surely we have failed to worship the illustrious Manibhadra, and likewise the exalted and graceful Vaisravana, the King of the Yakshas. Perhaps we have not worshipped the deities that cause calamities, or perhaps we have not paid them the first homage. Or perhaps this evil is the certain consequence of the birds (we saw)! Our stars are not unpropitious. From what other cause,
then, hath this disaster come?’ Others, distressed and bereft of wealth and relatives, said, ‘That maniac-like woman who came amongst this mighty caravan in guise that was strange and scarcely human, also, it is by her that this dreadful illusion has been prearranged. Of a certainty, she is a terrible Rakshasa or a Yaksha or a Picácha woman. All this evil is her work, what need of doubts. If we again see that wicked destroyer of merchants, that giver of innumerable woes, we shall certainly slay that injurer of ours, with stones, and dust, and grass, and wood, and cuffs.’[126] And hearing these dreadful words of the merchants, Damayanti, in terror and shame and anxiety, fled into the woods apprehensive of evil.”
Damayanti, however, managed to secure the protection of some Brahmans who had been travelling with the merchants, and in their company succeeded in reaching the city of Suvahu. Her strange, unkempt and almost maniac-like appearance, coupled with her scanty clothing, excited the curiosity of the citizens, who rudely followed her about. Her painful situation in the street of the town, and her beauty, which nothing could destroy, attracted the attention of the queen-mother, who was looking out of one of the windows of the palace. As a consequence Damayanti was sent for and installed in the household as a sort of humble companion to the princess.
We have now to trace the fortunes of Nala. After he had deserted Damayanti he came upon a mighty conflagration in the forests. From the midst of the fire a voice addressed him thus: “O righteous Nala, come hither.” Nala obeyed without fear or hesitation, and found in the midst of the fire a mighty Naga or serpent, lying in great coils. The snake explained that he was suffering from the curse of a great Rishi “of high ascetic merit,” whom he had deceived, and that he was doomed, under the conditions of the curse, to lie where he was until Nala should remove him to another place, when he would be free again. The snake contracted his dimensions till he was no bigger than a man’s thumb. Nala took him up and carried him to a place free from fire. Here the snake bit Nala and resumed his natural form. The effect on Nala of the snake’s bite was startling indeed, for he underwent a strange transformation of person and assumed an unprepossessing appearance. The snake explained that what had
occurred was for Nala’s good, and advised him to go to Ayodhya and offer his services to the king of that city as a charioteer and trainer of horses, on condition of receiving instruction in the art of gambling. The snake also presented Nala with a garment, the wearing of which would immediately restore him to his proper form. Nala did as directed, and was duly installed as king’s charioteer and superintendent of the royal stables, under the name of Váhuka.
In the meanwhile Brahmans sent out by King Bhima, Damayanti’s father, were searching the country far and wide for the lost couple. One of them met Damayanti and recognized her by a remarkable lotus-shaped mole which she had between her eyebrows. This discovery led to her return to her father’s house, where her children were being reared in comfort, but nothing could console her for the absence of Nala. Through her mother she caused Brahmans to go forth into all countries, to cry in every assembly, “O beloved gambler, where hast thou gone, cutting off half of my garment, and deserting thy dear and devoted wife asleep in the forest,” etc. Of course this appeal touched Nala—transformed into Váhuka—to the heart, and certain remarks which he let fall, to the effect that a virtuous woman should not be angry with one who had been deprived by birds of his garments, and so on, having been reported to Damayanti, she suspected who that Váhuka really was, although so changed in person.
To bring him to her she had it proclaimed in the city of Ayodhya that Damayanti, unaware whether Nala was alive or not, had decided to hold the very next day another swayamvara, at which she would choose a second husband[127] for herself.
King Ritupama of Ayodhya desired to be present on this occasion, but the distance to Kundina was over one hundred yojanas However, Nala in a most wonderful manner managed to do the distance within the appointed time, not without adventures on the way and the acquirement from his royal master of the whole science of dice-playing.
When they arrived at Kundina they found to their astonishment that no preparations were being made for Damayanti’s swayamvara, and
discovered that they had been deceived by a false report.
From the remarkable way in which Ritupama’s chariot came rattling into Ayodhya, Damayanti suspected that it was driven by Nala and Nala only, but she was sore distressed when she saw Váhuka—so unlike her dear lord in appearance. Yet, as wonders were common in those days and the charioteer might, after all, be her dear husband in a natural disguise, she opened communication with him through her maid-servant, and by various indications satisfied herself that Váhuka was no other than her lost Nala.
With the consent of her father and mother she caused Váhuka to be brought to her apartments. She received him clad in a piece of red cloth, wearing matted locks and covered with dirt and dust. Explanations followed. The wind-god, invoked by Damayanti, testified that it was only to bring Nala to herself that the lovely queen had proclaimed her swayamvara in Ayodhya, and that she was faultless in the matter. Flowers descended from the air and celestial kettle-drums began to play.
Casting away all doubts about Damayanti, Nala put on the pure garment which had been given to him by the serpent, and thus regained his own beautiful form. “And, beholding her righteous lord in his own form, Bhima’s daughter of faultless limbs embraced him, and began to weep aloud. And King Nala also embraced Bhima’s daughter, devoted to him as before, and also his children, and experienced great delight. And, burying her face in his bosom, the beauteous Damayanti, of large eyes, began to sigh heavily, remembering her griefs. And, overwhelmed with sorrow, that tiger among men stood for some time clasping the dust-covered Damayanti of sweet smiles.”
After these events Nala proceeded to his own country of the Nishadhas and challenged his brother to a game of dice, offering to stake all the wealth he had acquired, and lovely Damayanti as well, against the kingdom of which he had been dispossessed. He gave his brother the choice of an alternative—the dice or battle. Pushkara willingly accepted the offer, remarking insultingly: “It is evident that Damayanti, adorned with this wealth of thine that I will win, will wait
upon me like an Apsara in heaven upon Indra.” However, fortune had changed sides. Nala recovered his kingdom, but generously shared it with his unworthy brother, and everyone, of course, lived happily thereafter.
