Once, in days gone by, King Daśaratha fought a fierce and terrible battle against the demons. His mighty arms were shattered by enemy weapons, and the great king fell unconscious upon the battlefield. At that desperate hour, O queen, it was you who carried your wounded husband away from the clash of arms. Though he was grievously injured, you protected him with unwavering devotion, tending to him even amid the chaos. Pleased by your love and courage, Daśaratha, your husband, offered you two boons. He said, "Whenever you wish, you may claim these boons." At that time, you replied, "I will accept them when I desire," and your noble-hearted husband agreed. I did not know of this promise, O queen, until you yourself revealed it to me before. Because of my deep affection for you, I have kept this story ever in my mind. Now, use this moment: prevent the preparations for Rāma’s consecration and turn them back. Go to your husband and ask for those two boons—let Bharata be anointed as king, and let Rāma be exiled to the forest for fourteen years. While Rāma dwells in the wilderness for those fourteen years, your son Bharata, beloved by the people, will become firmly established as king. Today, therefore, enter the chamber of anger as if you are enraged with the son of the lord of horses, and remain hidden there on the ground, dressed in soiled garments. Do not look at the king, nor speak to him. When he, 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 there is no doubt. For your sake, the great king would even enter fire. He cannot become angry with you, nor can he bear to see you angry. For your sake, he would even give up his life. The king cannot go against your word; know the power of your own good fortune, simple-hearted as you are. Daśaratha would shower you with pearls, gems, gold, and all manner of jewels, but do not set your heart on these. Instead, remind him of the two boons he granted you during the battle between gods and demons—those promises must not be broken, O noble lady. When Rāghava himself lifts you up and the great king is present, then ask for your boon: let Rāma be exiled for fourteen years—nine and five—and let Bharata be made king upon the earth, O bull among kings. For those fourteen years while Rāma is away in the forest, your son will grow strong, take root, and remain firmly established. O queen, ask for this boon—the exile of Rāma—so that all your son’s desires may be fulfilled. With Rāma gone, he will no longer be a threat, and Bharata, free from rivals, will become king for you. By the time Rāma returns from the forest, your son will be firmly rooted in both heart and kingdom. Surrounded by loyal friends and steadfast men, your son will be secure, and I believe the king will be without fear when the time comes. So restrain and turn back the king from his resolve to anoint Rāma; you have been led by her—by fate or by wisdom—to accept fortune that appears as misfortune. Delighted and convinced by these words, Kaikeyī spoke to Mantharā, for the hunchback’s counsel had swayed her heart as if she were a young and innocent girl. Astonished and radiant with beauty, Kaikeyī said, "I do not disregard your wisdom, you who speak what is best among the best. Among all hunchbacks on earth, you are supreme in discernment, and you alone are truly devoted and well-wishing toward me. "I could not have understood the king’s intentions, O hunchback, for there are those among your kind who are ill-disposed, crooked, and exceedingly wicked. But you are lovely to behold, bent like a lotus stem swayed by the wind; your chest rises from your shoulders, firmly set within your breast. Your calm belly is modest as a well-formed navel below, your hips are full, and your breasts beautifully rounded. "Your face is pure as the spotless moon—indeed, you shine, Mantharā; your polished hips are adorned with a jeweled girdle. Your thighs are well-set, your feet long and graceful; clad in fine linen, you walk with elegance. When you walk before me, O exceedingly lovely one, you shine like the thousand magical arts that were with Shambara, lord of asuras—those very arts have entered your heart, and thousands more besides. Your back, long and curved like a chariot’s yoke, is yours alone. "Wisdom, knowledge of statecraft, and magical arts all dwell in you. Here, O hunchback, I will bestow upon you a golden garland. When Bharata is anointed and Rāghava has gone to the forest, O beautiful one, I will anoint you with pure, well-refined gold. When you have achieved your desire and are delighted, I will smear your back with gold, and on your face place a beautiful, jeweled tilaka. "I will have splendid ornaments made for you, O hunchback; dressed in fine garments, you will move about like a goddess. With a face shining like the moon and incomparable beauty, you will walk with a noble gait, making your rivals envious. Other hunchbacks, adorned with all ornaments, will serve at your feet, just as you have always served at mine." Thus praised, Kaikeyī spoke these words to Mantharā as she lay upon a pure couch, radiant like a sacred flame upon the altar. Then, with resolve, Kaikeyī was urged on: "When the water is gone, a bridge is useless, O blessed one; arise, do what is auspicious, and seek out the king.