Bhishma, ever dutiful and swift in action, hurried to Satyavati and informed her of the events. At her instruction, he summoned learned Brahmins and astrologers to determine the most auspicious day for the marriage. Once all the necessary arrangements were made, Bhishma prepared to wed his righteous brother, Vichitravirya, to the three princesses he had brought from the kingdom of Kashi. As the time of the wedding approached, the eldest maiden, her eyes lowered in modesty, addressed Bhishma in front of the others. With gentle words, she said, “O son of Ganga, best of the Kurus, knower of dharma and lamp of your lineage, in my heart I had already chosen King Shalva as my husband at the svayamvara. He too chose me, and my heart is bound with love for him. Please, O subduer of foes, do what is right for your family today. You are foremost among those who uphold righteousness, and you are mighty—do as you see fit.” Hearing her plea, Bhishma, the delight of the Kurus, consulted with the aged Brahmins, his mother Satyavati, and the ministers to seek their counsel. Having learned their opinions, Bhishma, ever devoted to dharma, addressed the maiden with a gentle face and said, “Go as you desire.” Released by Bhishma, the princess went to Shalva’s palace and, with hope in her heart, spoke to the king she had chosen: “Freed by Bhishma, I am yours in heart and by dharma. I have come to you, great king—take my hand today. I wish to become your lawful wife, for I have desired you before, and there is no doubt in my heart.” But King Shalva replied, “O beautiful one, Bhishma seized you before my very eyes and placed you on his chariot. Therefore, I cannot take your hand. Who, possessing wisdom, would accept a maiden who has been touched by another? I will not accept one abandoned by Bhishma, just as I would not accept my own mother in this way.” Rejected and heartbroken, the princess wept and lamented. Once again, she approached Bhishma and, through her tears, pleaded, “O hero, Shalva will not accept me, since you released me. Accept me yourself, you who know righteousness, or else I shall die.” Bhishma replied, “How can I accept you, O beautiful one, when your mind is set on another? Go to your father, O lovely one, without distress.” Thus addressed by Bhishma, the maiden went to the forest and, in solitude at a supremely pure holy place, began to perform severe austerities. Meanwhile, Vichitravirya, the king, had two wives—Ambika and Ambalika, the auspicious daughters of the king of Kashi. He delighted in their company, enjoying himself in various amusements, both within the palace and in the gardens. For nine years, the king lived thus, immersed in pleasure, but in time he was struck by royal consumption and died. Satyavati was overcome with grief at the death of her son. She had his funeral rites performed by the ministers. Later, in solitude, she approached Bhishma, her heart heavy with sorrow, and said, “Take up the kingdom, O fortunate one, for you are the son of Shantanu, your father. Take your brother’s wives and preserve the lineage, so that our dynasty does not perish—just as the lineage of Yayati was preserved in ancient times.” But Bhishma replied, “Mother, you know the vow I made for my father’s sake. I will not rule the kingdom, nor will I take a wife.” The charioteer recounted how, at that time, Satyavati was filled with anxiety, wondering how the royal lineage would continue, for happiness was not possible when the kingdom was without a ruler. Bhishma comforted her, saying, “Do not worry, O beautiful one. Let a son be produced for Vichitravirya by the ancient practice of kshetraja. Call a noble Brahmin and appoint him together with the wives. There is no fault in this, even according to the Vedas, for the protection of the lineage. Thus, by producing a grandson, grant him the kingdom, O pure-smiling one, and I will govern according to his command.” Hearing Bhishma’s words, Satyavati thought of her own son, the sage Vyasa, the sinless son born of the sage Parashara. As soon as she remembered him, Vyasa, the great ascetic, appeared. After bowing to his mother, the radiant sage stood before her, honored by Bhishma and duly respected by Satyavati, shining like a smokeless fire. Satyavati said to him, “Now beget a son, beautiful and born of your energy, in the field of Vichitravirya.” Vyasa, hearing his mother’s words, considered her command, and uttering “Om,” he reflected on the proper time. When Ambika, having bathed and being in her season, united with the sage, she bore a mighty son who was blind from birth. Seeing her son born blind, Satyavati was distressed and told the second bride, “Quickly, beget a son.” When her season came, Ambalika united with Vyasa at night, and she too conceived. That son, Pandu, was born, fit for kingship, but for the sake of a third son, Satyavati again sent the bride at the year’s end. Summoning Vyasa once more and earnestly requesting the best of sages, Satyavati sent the bride at night to the finest bedchamber. But the bride did not go herself; instead, a maidservant was sent in her place, and from that union, Vidura was born—righteous and virtuous. Thus, by Vyasa, these three sons—Dhritarashtra, Pandu, and Vidura—were begotten, great heroes who would protect the royal lineage.