Continued from here
As they approached the Pandava camp, Arjuna noticed that the mood was sombre. He looked at the faces, and could tell something was wrong. Soldiers were avoiding his gaze. Some of them sat crestfallen, looking lost. He knew something was amiss, something terrible had happened. His first thought was the Yudhishtira was hurt or captured. But he brushed that aside. If anything happened to Yudhistira, he would have known on the battlefield. Was Bheema hurt? There was no way. Bheema could defeat the entire Kaurava army by himself. Second to Arjuna, Bheema was an archer par excellence. With his phenomenal physical strength, it was impossible to even get near his mighty brother. Nakula or Sahadeva? No! Bheema promised to Kunti that he would protect the twins, even if he had to die in the process. So there was no way they could be in any danger. His thoughts turned to several other warriors, Drishtadyumna, Satyaki, Drishtaketu, Virata, Drupada. But for some reason none of those names seemed to fit the mood. And for some reason, he didn’t think of the first name that should have come to his mind.
He entered the main pavilion, with Krishna following closely behind. The first face he saw was that of Nakula, his little brother. His eyes were red, obviously from crying. His shoulders were slouched over, like a man defeated. He looked up at Arjuna, and without a word, streams of tears flowed down incessantly, hastening down the throat and disappearing into armor. Arjuna stopped in his tracks, and looked around, noting all the faces that he expected to see. He was used to this scene at the end of the day. All the Maharathis and Atirathis gathered right after the day, for a quick headcount, before briefly leaving to freshen up. They then reconvened for dinner, and spoke to strategy. Every day, one young voice would regale them with his heroics, of how he defeated the greatest of warriors on the other side, how they escaped certain death at his young hands.
As soon as he realized who was missing, Arjuna’s walk of pride disappeared. He dropped to his knees, in the middle of the pathway, letting go of his Gandeeva. He bent over and hid his face in his palms, as anguish gushed forth from his heart into his mouth, sobbing like a child. He was uncontrollable, as he felt like ripping his armor off and bawling. He hunched over and wept inconsolably, muttering incoherent words. After a short while he lifted his head, looked up, and let out a deafening scream.
Everyone let him be for a few moments, allowing him to gather his composure. After he settled down, he picked himself up and stumbled to the nearest seat. He swallowed hard, and looked up, sorrow, anger and desolation swirling in his head. He turned to Yudhishtira, because he knew he would get the right answer, “who did it?”
Yudhishtira was stumped. He wasn’t sure who exactly killed Abhimanyu, because according to many accounts, several Kaurava warriors surrounded and attacked him. But nobody had a clear version of who they were, and how they executed the plan. All he knew was that he and the rest of the Pandavas attempted to surround and protect Abhimanyu but Jayadratha blocked them at every stage. According to him, Jayadratha was the main cause for their inability to protect their prodigious scion. That was the first name that came to him when Arjuna asked the question.
“Brother, we tried our hardest to protect our favorite nephew. But Jayadratha…”
Arjuna jumped up from his seat as soon as he heard the name, picking up his bow and holding it high over his head with his left hand. He pulled the string hard with his right thumb and index finger, and let go. The resulting twang made a resonating sound, bringing everyone’s attention to him.
“I, Arjuna, the greatest warrior in this world, proclaim at this time, that before sunset tomorrow, I will sever Jayadratha’s head from his body, and failing to do so, will cease fighting. Let this be known to the Kaurava camp. Tomorrow Jayadratha will breathe his last”
The proclamation stunned everyone in the room, except one. Yudhishtira and Drishtadyumna exchanged glances, both thinking what would happen if Arjuna failed to kill their brother in law. But they decided not to say a word at this time. Nobody else had anything to say, as they all sat pensive. Arjuna slowly lowered his Gandeeva and walked out, preferring to be left alone at this hour of grief.
The one person that wasn’t surprised looked out and smiled. He immediately went over to the adjacent tent and sent for three scholars who studied weather patterns and geographical rotations. He was told earlier by the three that there was a major celestial event coming up on the 14th day of the war, which could lead the generals and their armies to superstition, and hence act in ways contrary to normal wartime behavior. He knew it was new moon the next day, and from the astrological studies he learnt, it can get in the way of the sun from time to time. He wanted to know precisely at what time this event would happen, and how could take advantage of it.
He calculated mentally that there were probably about five days of war remaining. And tomorrow, Arjuna would begin his annihilation of the Kauravas.