In the ancient teaching, the art of battle is described with great care and wisdom. The warriors who break through the tight formations of leather-armored men are praised for their valor, just as those who skillfully turn away the onslaught of archers in the midst of combat are honored. Vehicles, too, have their noble duty: from a distance, they must retreat when needed, while chariots are charged with the task of striking fear into the enemy’s ranks. Mighty elephants are entrusted with the most formidable challenges—breaking dense formations, reuniting scattered groups, and demolishing walls, gates, towers, and even trees that stand in the way. Each part of the army finds its proper ground: the uneven terrain is the realm of the infantry, level plains are suited for chariots and horses, and muddy land is where elephants excel in battle. When arranging the army, it is prescribed that the sun should be kept behind one’s formation. The guardians of the quarters must be stationed according to the auspicious directions of Venus and the Sun, and the winds should be gentle. The warriors are to be inspired by name and lineage, promised enjoyment in victory and the highest heaven if they fall in battle. For those who conquer their enemies, enjoyment is attained; for those who fall, the supreme state awaits. There is no expiation for a warrior’s death greater than what is found in the field of battle. The blood of heroes, shed in combat, washes away their sins, and enduring the pain of wounds and death becomes their highest austerity. It is said that thousands of celestial nymphs come forth to greet the hero who dies valiantly, while the king receives the merit of those who return defeated. But those who abandon their companions incur the sin of killing a Brahmin at every step, and the gods themselves seek their destruction. Those heroes who do not turn back are said to gain the fruit of a horse sacrifice; victory belongs to the king who remains steadfast in righteousness, and it is decreed that equals should face equals in combat. There are strict rules: elephants and their like, those who flee, mere spectators, the unarmed, those who have fallen, and those who have already entered the fray must not be killed. Deceptive warfare is permitted only when the enemy is off guard—calm, asleep, crossing rivers or forests, or hindered by difficult weather—for the destruction of the foe. In the confusion of battle, warriors must grasp their arms and cry out, “We are broken, we are broken by the others!” Should help arrive—whether friend or a great force—the leader is struck down, the commander slain, and even the king may be routed. For those warriors who flee, a safe retreat is to be arranged. Incense is to be offered, along with powerful charms, and flags and musical instruments that inspire fear are to be displayed. Upon victory, offerings should be made to the gods and Brahmins, and the treasures and jewels gained in war are to be distributed by the minister. Great restraint is commanded: the women of both the defeated and victorious are not to be harmed, and enemies captured in battle are to be protected as one’s own sons. One should not fight again with a vanquished foe, and the customs of the land must be observed. When the campaign is complete, the king should return to his city and enter his house. For the stability of royal fortune, it is said that just as Indra once composed a hymn to the goddess Śrī, so should the king recite a hymn for victory. Indra himself bowed to Śrī, the mother of all worlds, born from the ocean, whose eyes are like blooming lotuses and who dwells upon the chest of Viṣṇu. He praised her as success, as the sacrificial oblation, as the sacred exclamation, as nectar, and as the purifier of the worlds. She is twilight, night, radiance, prosperity, intelligence, faith, and Sarasvatī herself. Indra declared her to be the knowledge of sacrifice, supreme knowledge, secret knowledge, and the knowledge of the self—she who bestows the fruit of liberation. She is inquiry, the threefold Veda, commerce, and governance, and with her gentle forms she fills the whole world. Indra proclaimed that none but her possesses the form composed of all sacrifices, contemplated by yogis and embodied by Viṣṇu, the mace-bearer. When Śrī abandoned the worlds, all three nearly perished, but by her presence, they flourished again. Wives, sons, homes, friends, grain, wealth, and all blessings come to the fortunate through her glance. Health, prosperity, the destruction of enemies, and happiness are easily attained by those favored by her gaze. She is the mother of all beings, with Hari, the god of gods, as their father; together, they pervade the entire universe. Indra pleaded with her not to abandon honor, wealth, storehouses, home, possessions, body, spouse, sons, friends, cattle, or ornaments, for she dwells ever on Viṣṇu’s chest. Those forsaken by her are immediately abandoned by virtue, truth, purity, and good conduct, while those blessed by her, even if lacking in qualities, are endowed with all virtues and family prosperity. The one she looks upon is praiseworthy, virtuous, fortunate, noble, wise, heroic, and valiant; from the one she turns away, all virtues depart. Even Brahmā’s tongue cannot fully describe her qualities, and so Indra prayed that she never forsake them. Pleased by his praise, Śrī granted Indra the boon he desired: stability of his kingdom, victory in battle, and all that brings prosperity. Therefore, it is taught that one should recite or listen to this hymn to Śrī, for it bestows both enjoyment and liberation. Agni then spoke of the wise policy declared by Puṣkara and the counsel that Rāma gave to Lakṣmaṇa for victory. He promised to reveal this path, which increases righteousness and virtue. Rāma taught that a king must acquire wealth by just means, increase and protect it, and bestow it upon the worthy. These, he said, are the four duties of a righteous king.