THE BANDIT PRINCE- A Beautiful Story
The calamity was unex pected that Vir Singh stood speechless on the river-bank for a long time. His new general, Kapalchand, did not dare to utter a word. However, the other officers who had escaped the fury of the flood tried to save from the fateful currents whatever they could-arms as well as the drowning soldiers.
But the greater part of the arms was lost. The boats which were carrying them had been upturned. Ironically, some of the arms were recovered by the soldiers of Amritpur who were standing on their side of the river, ready to give a, fight to the invaders.
They even dragged ashore many of the drowning soldiers of Vir Singh. Of course, the rescued men were taken prisoners.
King Pavitra told his officers, “By all means keep the arms you have recovered, for now we need not have either any sympathy or any fear for Vir Singh. Rather we should see to it that the wicked fellow does not get another chance to strengthen his army.
We might have been weak, but now luck has made Vir Singh weaker. He should remain like that. However, set free those unfortunate prisoners of war. We need not wreak our vengeance on them!”
The two topmost officers of Amritpur, the general and the minister, met their king, Pavitra, once again in private.
“My lord,” said the general, “some of the soldiers of Shantipur who were saved by our men from the river do not wish to return to Shan tipur. They pray that they be allowed to join our army.”
The king thought for a moment and then said, “It is my misfortune that I was grievously sick when Vir Singh usurped the throne of Sumedh. I am yet to know what happened to my son- in-law, my daughter and my grandson.
I am afraid, the worst has happened to them. Vir Singh must have planned his conspi- racy in such a way that none of the three would have come out of his murderous net. But now that I have recovered, I must do every- thing possible to find out the truth.
If I did not wish to go to war with Vir Singh, it is because war brings suffering for the common men. But if Vir Singh causes more suffering to the people than a war would cause, we should check him. Yes, you may retain those soldiers of Vir
Singh who wish to join us.” “My lord,” this time the minis- ter said, “the old minister of our beloved King Shanti Dev escaped an attempt on his life. He is now in our land.”
“Is that so? I knew that he was a good man and a wise man. But I did not know that he was heroic enough to escape assassins!” observed King Pavitra.
“My lord, he was saved by a mysterious man who suddenly appeared on the scene, riding a horse. Swinging his sword like a streak of lightning, the myste rious man instantly killed all the three fellows who had pounced on the minister.
And the minister suspects the rider to be noneo ther than…” King Pavitra sat up on his bed and, betraying great eagerness, asked, “Who who was that mysterious saviour? Was he our son-in-law? Bring the old minis- ter to me. I will like to talk to him.”
“I will bring him along, my lord. Let me bring to your notice something more. A young man of Sumedh named Vasant too was saved by the same mysterious rider.
This young man is a great admirer of our beloved King Shanti Dev, and he is determined to fight the tyranny of Vir Singh. He has many supporters in Shantipur. He lives hiding in the forest, but often moves about in Sumedh, under disguise.
It was he who gave us the news of Vir Singh’s impending attack on our kingdom. I do not know what should be our attitude towards him,” said the minister.
Once again the king thought for a moment and then said, “My attitude is clear. In spite of Vir Singh doing the most grave injustice to our son-in-law, we did not interfere in the affairs of Sumedh. But by trying to attack us, Vir Singh has forfeited his right to expect any courtesy from us.
We must encourage Vasant and his friends to rise against the tyrant. You know best how to do itt”
“I know, my lord. Thank you very much. There is no reason why we should not patronise Vasant and his group.” com- mented the minister.
Vir Singh returned to the palace, from the river-bank, a sad man. Next day he summoned his new general, Kapalchand, and asked, “How is it that nobody warned us about the possibility of a flood?”
“My lord, the flood during this season is a rare phenomenon.. Nobody could have anticipated it. In fact, the court-astrologer had said that it was an auspicious hour,” answered Kapalchand.
“Put the astrologer to death- forthwith!” commanded Vir Singh.
“My lord, he is missing. He had been last seen standing behind our army on the river bank. Either he has drowned or has escaped to Amritpur!”
“Oh Amritpur! Amritpur! We wanted to destroy it. Now it seems Amritpur will destroy us!” cried out Vir Singh in anguish.
“My lord, we will never let it do so. We will conquer it. It is a question of time and gathering new weapons and rebuilding our army!” said Kapalchand in a reassuring voice.
“How long to wait? How to gather new weapons? How to rebuild the army?” Vir Singha sked impatiently. “My lord, everything depends on resources.
If we have enough wealth, we can buy new arms from distant lands and recruit soldiers from some ruthless tribes also from some distant lands.”
“But where is wealth? Shanti Dev had left the treasury almost empty, spending everything in constructing roads, digging ponds, building dispensaries, rest-houses and schools or giving out doles to the needy. What to do?” Vir Singh expressed his anguish once again. “My lord, there has been a bumper crop in Shantipur. We have plenty of rice.
But the price of rice is very high almost five times more in the kingdom of Chandrahat. And as you know, Chandrahat is famous for swords and spears of excellent quality. We won’t have to spend any money, We can collect the neces- sary arms in exchange for rice,” said Kapaichand.
“A good idea!” exclaimed Vir Singh. “Collect half of the total produce of rice from all the landowners as taxes. And so far as the big ones are concerned, collect three-fourth from them.”
“We will do so,” said Kapal- chand. “We will begin with the big landlords.”
Raghunath was a benevolent landlord. He owned a large paddy-growing estate. Hundreds of villagers took rice from him according to their needs and paid him at their convenience,
in cash or kind. This practice had pre- vailed for many years begin- ning in a bygone generation.
It was an afternoon. Nearly one hundred villagers had gathered before Raghunath’s granary. Raghunath’s clerks and servants were ready to oblige them.
Suddenly a young officer of Vir Singh’s court arrived there. He was accompanied by a dozen sepoys. About fifty bullock-carts followed them.
“We demand three-fourth of the total rice raised by you,” the officer told Raghunath.
“May I know why?” asked Raghunath.
“This is your tax to the king!” was the reply.“But I have paid my tax! There is no arrear against me!” “This is a new tax! We will take the rice to Chandrahat,” said the captain.
Raghunath stood helpless. “Sir, what about the villagers who depend on this rice?” he asked.
“They must not depend on this. That is all,” said the captain curtly. His sepoys compelled the villagers to carry the bags of rice to the carts, under the threat of whips. All the pleadings of Raghunath and the other villag- ers went in vain.By the time the carts were fully loaded, it was evening.
The caravan of carts began moving. The remorseful villagers fol- lowed the carts. At the first the officer did not mind that. In fact he derived some pleasure out of the poor folks heaving sighs of distress behind his caravan. But after a while he grew suspicious. He was afraid, some young men were inspiring them to follow the caravan.
“Go away!” he shouted at them, turning his horse towards them and waving his sword.
“Strike!” shouted someone from the villagers. The caravan had reached a mountain pass. Someone threw a rope with a noose from the top of a rock and pulled the officer from the horse- back. Some twenty young men descended from the hills and captured the sepoys.
“We do not wish to harm you fellows. Keep quiet,” the leader of the group told the officer and his sepoys.
Then the young men began distributing the rice to the villa- gers. “Pay the landlord faithfully and truthfully. Once you take these small quantities to your homes, Vir Singh’s men cannot afford to collect them. Go away quickly.”
The young men tied the sepoys and their officers to the nearby trees. “Don’t worry. We will notify Kapalchand about you. He will arrange to free you. We will also notify the owners of these carts. Tell Kapalchand that he must not forcibly take away anybody’s rice or anybody’s cart.
We will not allow him to do so!” the leader of the group who was none other than Vasant, told the officer.