Pashupati, the spiritual leader of Gauda, was an extraordinary man; he was the second lord of Gauda. The king was aged, and, as is the way with old age, had become dependent on others’ counsel, and— He had become negligent in matters of state, and thus the true burden of the Gaur kingdom had been entrusted to the chief minister and religious authority, Pashupati. In wealth and splendor, Pashupati had become the equal of the king of Gaur himself.

Pashupati was about thirty-five years of age. He was exceedingly handsome to behold. His body was tall, his chest broad, and his entire frame was beautifully proportioned, with bone and flesh in perfect harmony. His complexion resembled molten gold; his forehead was broad, a veritable temple of intellectual power. His nose was long and prominent, his eyes small but possessed of an extraordinary brilliance. The radiance of his face spoke of profound wisdom, and the cares of daily affairs had lent his features a certain sternness. Yet, for all that, there was no man in the royal court whose beauty could rival his. People said there was no one in all of Gaur as learned and discerning as he.

Pashupati was a Brahmin by birth, but no one knew for certain where his birthplace was. It was said that his father had been a poor Brahmin who made his living by teaching the scriptures.

Pashupati had attained the highest post in the kingdom of Gaur solely by the power of his own intellect and learning.

In his youth, Pashupati had lived in Kashi with his father, studying the scriptures. There, a Bengali Brahmin named Keshav resided. Keshav had an eight-year-old daughter named Haimavati. Pashupati was married to her. But by a twist of fate, on the very night of the wedding, after giving away his daughter, Keshav vanished with her. No trace of them was ever found. From that day, Pashupati had been deprived of conjugal life. For various reasons, he had not taken a second wife to this day. Now he dwelt in a lofty mansion, fit for a royal palace, but for want of the light that springs from a wife’s gaze, that high mansion was shrouded in darkness.

Tonight, in a secluded chamber of that lofty mansion, Pashupati sat alone in the light of a lamp. Just behind this room lay a mango grove. There is a secret gate for leaving the mango grove. At that gate, someone knocked softly in the dead of night. From within the house, Pashupati opened the door, and a man entered the house. He was a Muslim. Hemchandra had seen him earlier through the window.

Pashupati then asked him to sit on a separate seat and requested to see a token of trust. The Muslim showed the token. Pashupati said in Sanskrit, “I understand you are a trusted confidant of the Turkic commander. Therefore, you are also trusted by me. Your name is Muhammad Ali, is it not? Now, please reveal the commander’s intentions.”

The foreigner replied in Sanskrit, but three parts of his Sanskrit were French, and the remaining fourth was a kind of Sanskrit never used in India. It was a Sanskrit of Muhammad Ali’s own creation. Pashupati understood him with great difficulty. There is no need for the esteemed reader to undergo such hardship; we shall translate that new Sanskrit into clear language for you.

The foreigner said, “You are aware of Khilji Sahib’s intentions. He wishes to conquer Gaud without a battle. Under what conditions will you surrender this kingdom into his hands?”

Pashupati replied, “Whether or not I will surrender this kingdom into his hands is uncertain. Betraying one’s own country is a great sin. Why should I commit such an act?”

Foreigner: Very well. I shall take my leave. But then why did you send an envoy to Khilji?

Pashupati: To know the extent of his desire for war.

Foreigner: That I can tell you—his joy lies in war alone.

Pashupati: In war with men, or with beasts? Is there joy in fighting elephants?

Muhammad Ali said angrily, “He has come to Gaud with the intention of war, not of beast-fighting. I see, you have summoned the commander only to mock him.” He had said to send for people. We know war, not mockery. What we know, that alone shall we do.” Saying this, Muhammad Ali prepared to depart. Pashupati said, “Wait a moment, hear me out a little more. I am not unwilling to surrender this kingdom to the hands of the Yavanas; nor am I incapable. I am the true king of Gauda, the Sena king is so only in name. But why should I give you my own kingdom unless I receive a proper price?” Muhammad Ali said, “What do you desire?” P: Will Khilji grant it? M: Whatever you now possess shall remain yours—all your life, your wealth, your rank, all shall remain. That is all. P: Then what do I gain? All these are already mine—why should I commit a grave sin out of greed? M: If you do not win our favor, nothing will remain; if you wage war, your wealth, your rank, even your life shall be taken. P: That cannot be said until the war is over. Do not think that we are altogether unwilling to fight. Especially as there are preparations for rebellion in Magadha, of which I am aware. Khilji is now busy suppressing that, and for some days he must abandon his attempt to conquer Gauda—this too I know. Whether you grant my desired reward or not, if war is to be decided upon, then this is our best time. When the rebel army in Bihar is armed, the army of the Lord of Gauda too shall be ready. M: What harm? If a mosquito bites atop an ant bite, the elephant does not die. But I wish to hear what your desired reward is before I go. P: Listen, I am now the true