Mantharā, ever scheming, spoke with urgency to Queen Kaikeyī, her words thick with foreboding. “When Rāma is crowned as the uncontested king,” she warned, “he will surely send your son Bharata far away—perhaps even to another realm. Remember, when Bharata was a child, you did not keep him close to his maternal uncle. Even the unmoving grow attached through nearness, yet you let distance grow.” She continued, “Because of Bharata, Shatrughna has become just like him; just as Lakṣmaṇa is devoted to Rāma, so Shatrughna follows Bharata in all things. There is a saying: a tree marked for felling by woodsmen is stripped of its branches by arrows, all because of the fear its nearness inspires. In the same way, Rāma will always protect Lakṣmaṇa—such is their famous brotherhood, celebrated in the world like that of the twin Aśvins. Rāma would never wrong Lakṣmaṇa, but he might well wrong Bharata—of this I have no doubt.” Mantharā’s voice grew more insistent. “Therefore, let Rāma be sent from the palace to the forest. This pleases me, and it will bring you great benefit. Only then will your family’s future be secure, if Bharata receives the ancestral kingdom in accordance with righteousness. Think—Bharata, accustomed to comfort, is Rāma’s natural enemy. How will he, deprived of prosperity, live under the rule of one who possesses everything? Just as a mighty elephant is driven away in the forest by a lion, you must protect Bharata, who is overshadowed by Rāma.” She reminded Kaikeyī, “Once, proud of your own good fortune, you rejected Kausalyā, Rāma’s mother and your co-wife. How could she not harbor enmity toward you? When Rāma gains the earth, adorned with treasures and mountains, you and the sorrowful Bharata will suffer defeat and misfortune. When Rāma rules, Bharata will be lost. Therefore, think of the kingdom for your own son, and the reason for Rāma’s exile.” As Mantharā’s counsel poured forth, Kaikeyī’s anger flared. Her face blazed, and she exhaled a hot, trembling breath. She declared to Mantharā, “Today, I will send Rāma away to the forest, and I will quickly see Bharata anointed for succession. Now, consider how this can be done, so that Bharata receives the kingdom and Rāma does not, by any means.” Mantharā, cunning and intent on harming Rāma, replied, “Listen carefully to my words, Kaikeyī, if you truly wish for Bharata alone to be king. Why do you not recall—or why do you conceal—what is in your own interest? If you wish to hear my counsel, listen now, and act upon it.” Hearing this, Kaikeyī rose slightly from her well-spread bed and spoke, eager for Mantharā’s advice. Mantharā resumed, “Long ago, during the war between the gods and the demons, your husband Daśaratha, along with royal sages, took you to assist the lord of the gods. You journeyed south toward Daṇḍaka, to Vaijayantam, where the shark-banner was raised. There, the great demon Śambara, master of a hundred magical illusions and undefeated by the gods, waged war against Indra. In that fierce battle, the demons drove away the men and slew the wounded and sleeping at night. There, King Daśaratha fought valiantly, though his mighty arms were shattered by weapons. O queen, you carried your unconscious husband from the battlefield and protected him, even as he lay wounded. Pleased, he granted you two boons, saying, ‘Whenever you wish, you may claim them.’ You replied, ‘I will accept them when I desire,’ and your noble husband agreed. I did not know of this until you told me before, but I have kept it in my heart out of love for you. Now is the time to use those boons. Prevent the preparations for Rāma’s consecration—turn them back. Ask your husband for these two boons: the anointing of Bharata and the exile of Rāma for fourteen years. While Rāma dwells in the forest for those years, your son, steadfast in the people’s affection, will become firmly established as king. Today, enter the chamber of anger, as if enraged with the king, and remain hidden on the ground, dressed in soiled garments. Do not look at him or speak to him. When the king, longing for you and filled with sorrow, comes to you, remain weeping but do not address him. You are always dear to your husband—of this I have no doubt. For your sake, the great king would even enter the fire. He cannot become angry with you, nor look upon you when you are angry. For your sake, he would give up his very life. The king cannot transgress your word. Understand, with your simple nature, the power of your good fortune. He would give you pearls, gems, gold, and many kinds of jewels—but do not set your heart on these.” Thus, Mantharā guided Kaikeyī, planting the seeds of a fateful decision in her heart, shaping the course of destiny for Rāma, Bharata, and all of Ayodhyā.