The sabha of Hastinapur was a marvel of grandeur, its marble pillars and golden inlays a testament to the blood, sweat, and tears of past Kuru kings who had built the kingdom into a beacon of power in Aryavrat.
The court was filled with nobles, ministers, and warriors, each seated in their designated places, the air heavy with anticipation.
Bahubali and Karna sat in seats of honor right beside Duryodhana, a deliberate choice by the Kaurava prince to ally with the Magadha Naresh and his senapati. Duryodhana's eyes gleamed with satisfaction as he glanced at his guests, ensuring their prominence in the court.
The sabha was nearly complete, save for the king himself. A resonant announcement echoed through the hall: "Maharaj Dhritarashtra enters the court!" Guided by his trusted aide Sanjay, the blind king entered, his regal bearing commanding respect.
The assembly rose, offering pranipat, and sat only after Dhritarashtra took his throne, signaling the sabha's commencement.
Mahamantri Vidura rose, his voice clear and authoritative. "Pranipat, esteemed members of the Kuru sabha, Maharaj Dhritarashtra, Mahamahim Bhishma, Kula Guru Kripacharya, revered guests Magadha Naresh Bahubali and Senapati Karna, and all present. Today is a joyous occasion for Hastinapur. Our princes have returned, their education under Guru Dronacharya complete, their skills proven in the Kalapradarshan. The time has come to name our yuvraj, as per the traditions of Aryavrat, to guide our kingdom's future."
Vidura paused, letting his words ripple through the silent courtroom. Whispers broke out among the ministers, their murmurs like waves in a still pond.
Bahubali observed the proceedings, his keen eyes noting the political maneuvering. Vidura's call for a yuvraj was a strategic move to uphold Kuru tradition, though it clearly stirred tension.
Karna leaned closer, whispering, "Bahu, this is no mere formality. The choice of Yuvraj will shift the balance between the Kauravas and the Pandavas. Vidura treads carefully."
Bahubali nodded subtly, his voice low. "Indeed, Karna. It's a bold move. Let's see how this unfolds."
The whispers quieted, and Vidura continued, his tone measured. "I request Maharaj Dhritarashtra to announce the name of our yuvraj, as per the sacred traditions of Aryavrat."
Dhritarashtra's face tightened, his reluctance palpable. He favored his eldest son, Duryodhana, for the throne, but Bhishma, Vidura, and Kripacharya had pressed for a yuvraj to elevate the Kuru dynasty's prestige, leaving him little choice. Clearing his throat, he began, "I, Maharaj of Hastinapur, declare that as per the traditions of Aryavrat, the position of yuvraj belongs to—"
"Wait!" A voice cut through the proclamation, startling the sabha. All eyes turned to Guru Dronacharya, who stood, his expression resolute.
Dhritarashtra's face lit with relief at the interruption, while Bhishma, Vidura, and Kripacharya frowned, their agitation clear. The ministers murmured, shocked that anyone would halt the king's decree.
Dhritarashtra, seizing the moment, asked, "Acharya, why have you intervened?"
Dronacharya bowed slightly, his voice firm. "Maharaj, esteemed members of the Kuru sabha, the announcement of a yuvraj cannot proceed. My students, the Kuru princes, have yet to offer me their gurudakshina, the final step to complete their education. Until this is fulfilled, none are eligible for such responsibilities."
His words, rooted in tradition, silenced objections. The sabha nodded, acknowledging the truth in his reasoning. Vidura spoke, his tone apologetic. "You are correct, Acharya Dronacharya. We apologize for our haste. The gurudakshina must come first."
Dhritarashtra, his voice tinged with curiosity, asked, "Acharya, may I know what you seek as your gurudakshina?"
Dronacharya's eyes hardened, his voice resonant with old pain. "Revenge, Maharaj. I have imparted my knowledge to the princes of Hastinapur, and in return, I seek nothing less than King Drupad of Panchala humbled at my feet." He recounted his tale of betrayal by Drupad, a story Bahubali already knew, though he listened politely, his interest waning. Karna, beside him, leaned in, whispering, "Drupad's army is formidable, Bahu. This will test the princes."
The Kuru princes, led by Duryodhana and Arjuna, vowed to deliver the gurudakshina, their voices united in loyalty to their guru.
The sabha adjourned, and a smaller council convened in a private chamber—Dhritarashtra, Bhishma, Vidura, Kripacharya, Duryodhana, Yudhishthira, Bahubali, and Karna—to discuss trade between Hastinapur and Magadha.
The meeting was productive, with Bahubali proposing open trade routes for spices, silks, and grains, leveraging Magadha's prosperity. As it concluded, Bahubali raised a bold request, his voice steady. "Maharaj Dhritarashtra, esteemed elders, I seek to bring Anga under Magadha's governance. Its proximity to my kingdom makes it strategic, but more importantly, Anga's people suffer from neglect, caught in disputes between Hastinapur and Magadha. I wish to uplift them, provide schools, hospitals, and safety, as in Magadha. To avoid rivalry, I propose to purchase Anga, ensuring peace between our kingdoms."
The room stirred. Bhishma's eyes narrowed, Vidura frowned, and Kripacharya objected, "Anga is a Kuru territory, Maharaj Bahubali. To cede it would weaken Hastinapur's borders." Yudhishthira nodded, adding, "The people deserve aid, but Anga's loss could destabilize our realm."
Duryodhana, however, saw opportunity. Rising, he spoke passionately, "Father, elders, it is our Kshatriya dharma to protect our people, and we have failed Anga's. Their suffering shames us. If Magadha Naresh can restore their prosperity, we should allow it. Bahubali's reforms in Magadha are renowned—let Anga benefit, and let us strengthen our alliance with Magadha through this sale."
Dhritarashtra, swayed by his son and sensing diplomatic gain, nodded. "Very well, Maharaj Bahubali."
Then they talked about the sale price of Anga and finished the deal.
As the meeting ended, Bahubali approached Duryodhana, his voice warm. "Prince Duryodhana. Your support in the council was invaluable. Name your desire—what can Magadha offer you in return?"
Duryodhana's eyes softened, his voice earnest. "Magadha Naresh. All I seek is your friendship, nothing more. You and Senapati Karna have shown me respect, not judgment, unlike others who brand me adharmi. Be my mitra, Bahubali."
Bahubali paused, his gaze piercing yet kind. "You have my friendship, Duryodhana, until the day you commit adharma. That is my word."
Karna stepped forward, his tone resolute. "And mine as well, Prince. I stand with you as a friend, until adharma taints your path."
Duryodhana's face lit with a rare, genuine smile, touched by their trust. "Thank you, mitras, for not judging me as others do. Your faith means more than you know."
The three moved to a chamber where Duryodhana's brothers and Ashwatthama awaited, their mood buoyant. They discussed the impending war with Drupad, strategizing against his seven akshauhini sena. Bahubali, his voice calm but authoritative, interjected, "Beware of Drupad, my friends. His army is vast, and he is a master of illusion arts, capable of bewildering even seasoned warriors. Prepare for deception as much as force."
Duryodhana nodded, his expression serious. "Your counsel is wise, Mitra. We'll heed it."
As the discussion ended, Bahubali handed Duryodhana a folded parchment, his smile enigmatic. "A message for you, Prince, to ponder: *'I stand surrounded by my own false reflections, each a perfect, shimmering twin. They see me, yet they are not me, and I, the one true form, am also seen by them.'*"
Duryodhana's face creased in puzzlement. "What does this mean, Mitra? What should I do with it?"
Bahubali's eyes twinkled. "Think on it, mitra. Its meaning will guide you when the time comes."
The group parted, Duryodhana clutching the parchment, his mind wrestling with the cryptic words. Bahubali and Karna returned to their quarters.