Book review: The Brahmin by Ravi Shankar Etteth

The killing game

A fast-paced thoroughly entertaining read that mixes up some history, some espionage and some gory stuff.

Ravi Shankar Etteth is back with his fifth book and this one The Brahmin (Westland Books) is a spy thriller. Not your routine spy thriller, though; this story is set in the times of Ashoka ruler of Pataliputra — not yet emperor,  not yet a renunciate of violence. This Ashoka is very much a warrior king,  unprepossessing, cold, cruel, rapier-sharp and distrustful of everyone around him. If he trusts anyone just a wee bit, it is his spymaster the Brahmin.

And the latter is the hero of the book, this nameless Brahmin soldier/spy quite in the mould of his predecessor Chanakya who was Ashoka`s grandfather Chandragupta Maurya`s master strategist, confidante and right- hand man. The Brahmin and the king go back a long way; he has fought alongside Ashoka in the battle of Taxila, and saved the king`s life besides.

Now they are in Pataliputra and the clouds of war, specifically the soon- to- be- waged Kalinga War, are gathering on the horizon. One of the king`s concubines is murdered in a  grisly manner and Ashoka wants the Brahmin to investigate, to plug the possible chinks in his well-guarded but perhaps vulnerable set-up.

That leads the spymaster down labyrinths of dangerous stratagems, devious plots and treachery, as also the presence of a deadly killer called the Blood Flower who of course leaves a calling card, the blood red kovidara blossom after every killing. It also leads the Brahmin, his king and everyone else connected with the story, to the ultimate lethal  weapon called the Golden Scythe, dating back to when Ravana battled Rama. Yes, you read that right.

The protagonists of the tale are Ashoka, his wife Asandhimitra, the Brahmin, his assistant the comely Viet woman called Hao, the prime minister Radhagupta, Kalinga`s slimy envoy Suma, the mysterious siren Mur. And  Buddhism, which is slowly spreading across this conflicted land, plays a vital role in the unfolding of the tale.

Even as the pace quickens, Etteth studs his story with captivating little details, at other times paints pleasing  pictures on the page. We are told Ashoka`s quarters were made of sandalwood from the deep southern forests; their fragrance soothed the king as he slept, aroused him when he made love and calmed him when he was in one of his spectacular rages.

Queen Asandhimitra has a Greek woman in waiting, prefers to have Hellenic furniture in her Ujjain palace, sips Rhodes wine and  wears a chiton for official functions. Ashoka`s guards still have some Macedonian warriors amongst them.

It`s all very descriptive, as is Etteth`s wont. A dying soldier is still trying to put up the good fight but with each movement, pain squeezes his body with the fierceness of a betrayed lover. Elsewhere, the Brahmin gazes at a sullen sky heavy with black rainclouds where a feeble sun was trying to spin some copper into them but was losing the fight.

The night becomes  a dark cowl closing over the land; a watcher on a distant balcony smiled as a single kovidara descends slowly on the grass like the echo of an unforgiving curse. The night laps around Ujjain like a shape-shifter kept at bay by the spell of a powerful magus, the sharp wind abseils down the ridges from the mountain spurs, riding the flanks of the heavily wooded slopes with the force of an invading army.

On the whole, however, the brush strokes are wide across the canvas. The heroes are all lithe and lethal. The villains are all patently wicked, possessed of sly cunning and overt malevolence.

This is pure unadulterated entertainment. There is a passage full of dexterous wordplay where the Brahmin and his team take on a fierce posse of women dressed in black and wielding raised swords, the elite guard of neighbouring Kalinga. The finale is a real beaut, too, quite catching the reader quite by surprise.

Pick up The Brahmin, it`s worth your while.

 

The Brahmin/by Ravi Shankar Etteth/Westland Books/247 pages/Rs 350.

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