Bhishma advanced with purposeful strides, his boots resounding against the stone floor, guiding Vidura beyond the banquet hall's diminishing clamor into the shadowed corridor.
Vidura matched his pace, his unadorned tunic shifting slightly, his piercing dark eyes already dissecting the turmoil awaiting them.
The council chamber's formidable stone doors parted with a groan, revealing a cavernous expanse steeped in the weight of unresolved disputes.
A palpable tension hung in the air, the scent of dust and parchment mingling with the anticipation of conflict.
The chamber's towering walls bore the scars of countless deliberations, their rough surfaces illuminated by a solitary lamp casting a severe, unyielding light.
Scrolls and maps lay in disarray across a massive oak table, their edges frayed, evidence of prior heated exchanges.
Satyavati occupied the head of the table, her silver hair glinting sharply, her countenance rigid with the burden of governance.
Bhishma entered with commanding presence, his silver mane catching the lamp's harsh glow, settling into a chair with a low, guttural sound.
Vidura positioned himself beside him, his demeanor composed yet charged, hands poised as if ready to unravel the kingdom's tangled finances.
Nobles encircled the table, their once-vibrant silks now creased and dulled, their voices a cacophony of grievances over Pandu's relentless campaigns.
Satyavati struck the table with a resounding thud, her voice cutting through the discord with authority. "Pandu's wars have depleted our reserves—our taxation system is in utter disarray."
She gestured sharply to a ledger, her tone unyielding. "Eastern lords withhold grain as if it were a treasure hoard, western nobles evade their monetary obligations—this must be rectified immediately."
Her gaze fixed on Vidura, stern and expectant, a silent command to impose order on the fractious assembly.
A noble clad in sapphire silk, broad and imposing, thrust a finger toward the table, his voice a deep rumble of defiance. "My estates sustain Hastinapura's populace—I refuse to surrender more to fund Pandu's conquests."
He leaned forward, his expression contorted with indignation. "While he garners accolades in distant lands, my granaries dwindle to nothing—why should I bear this burden?"
An emerald-robed noble, wiry and agitated, interjected with equal fervor. "The western territories are financially exhausted—every coin I possess has been funneled into his last campaign. Why must we perpetually shoulder his ambitions?"
A third, draped in crimson, his beard bristling with frustration, added fuel to the fire. "Northern trade routes have collapsed under Pandu's wars—I will not tax my people into ruin to compensate for his absence."
Vidura approached the table with deliberate intent, extracting a map from the clutter and unfurling it with a forceful motion that silenced the room momentarily.
"This kingdom endures through equilibrium, not through this incessant quarreling," he declared, his voice resonant and incisive, slicing through the overlapping protests.
He spread the map wide, its creases revealing a detailed network of rivers, ridges, and settlements strained by conflict. "You are all fixated on your losses—allow me to demonstrate a structure that benefits the entirety of Hastinapura."
The sapphire noble crossed his arms, his scowl deepening. "What insight does a man of your station possess regarding my granaries? I will not yield while the west remains unscathed."
Vidura's gaze locked onto him, unflinching, as he traced a winding path along the Ganga's eastern curve with precision. "Your grain accumulates because trade has stagnated—western routes are obstructed by neglect and banditry."
He pressed his finger firmly against the map. "Reopen those channels, and your surplus becomes a resource, not a liability—your estates profit rather than diminish."
The emerald noble scoffed, his voice thick with skepticism. "Reopen routes? That requires my funds to repair roads while the east sits idle—justify that expenditure."
Vidura's response was immediate, his tone unwavering. "Your funds are not required—establish tolls along the northern passes to finance the restoration. The revenue will exceed your initial outlay within months."
The crimson noble leaned in, his voice rough with doubt. "Those northern routes have been dormant for a generation—Pandu's campaigns severed them. Tolls are a fanciful notion without proof of viability."
Vidura shifted his stance, pointing to a rugged pass with calculated certainty. "They are dormant because no one has enforced their utility—impose a toll of ten copper per cart, and merchants will flock to avoid the perilous bandit trails."
He straightened, his eyes narrowing. "The north craves goods—western production and eastern grain can meet that demand. This is not a dream; it is a practical solution grounded in observable need."
The sapphire noble slammed a fist on the table, his voice rising. "And what do I gain? Empty promises while my people go hungry? I need more than words."
Vidura turned to him, his expression resolute. "You gain western allegiance—your grain sustains their forces, binding them to your influence, not merely Pandu's."
He drew a line connecting eastern fields to western outposts. "Furthermore, the northern tolls reduce your tax burden by a significant margin—your granaries remain intact, and your power grows."
The emerald noble shoved a ledger forward, his tone sharp. "Allegiance does not replenish my coffers—tangible wealth does. The west cannot afford delays for hypothetical tolls."
Vidura seized the ledger, his fingers scanning the figures with rapid precision before sliding it back. "Your merchants conceal profits—levy a ten percent tax on their trade earnings, not their land holdings. You will see substantial returns by the next lunar cycle, bolstered by eastern grain distribution."
Satyavati interjected, her voice firm yet tinged with intrigue. "You are managing a complex array of factors—how do you ensure this withstands the strain of Pandu's next offensive?"
Vidura pivoted to face her, his intensity palpable. "It endures because it adapts—designate these villages along the southern frontier to supply Pandu's troops directly, taxing them minimally to preserve their output."
He circled three key settlements on the map. "Redirect the primary fiscal burden to trade hubs along the rivers—merchants there evade their dues, amassing unreported wealth. A fifteen percent levy on their transactions funds the military without crippling the agrarian base."
Bhishma leaned forward, his deep voice rumbling with approval. "He has dissected the entire kingdom's finances—every element aligns. This framework maintains stability amidst Pandu's disruptions."
The crimson noble bristled, his skepticism unyielding. "Tolls are vulnerable—bandits still plague those passes. What prevents collapse if they strike?"
Vidura countered swiftly, his finger jabbing the northern pass. "Deploy fifty guards, rotated monthly—the cost is negligible, covered twofold by toll revenue. Bandits retreat from organized resistance, ensuring uninterrupted trade."
The sapphire noble shook his head, his voice a low growl. "Guards mean pulling men from my fields—I cannot spare them without risking harvest."
Vidura's response was unrelenting. "Your fields are overprotected—half your guards idle while bandits target trade instead. Reassign twenty, retain the rest; your harvest is secure, and the north compensates you."
The emerald noble crossed his arms, his resistance lingering. "If merchants refuse the tolls, I am left with nothing—men and money wasted."
Vidura leaned closer, his voice dropping with conviction. "They will not refuse—the northern markets are barren, desperate for your goods. A ten-day journey yields triple your investment—I have studied the caravan logs; the demand is undeniable."
Satyavati tilted her head, her tone shifting to measured respect. "You are unraveling intricacies we overlooked entirely—this is a formidable proposition."
She folded her hands, her scrutiny softening. "It must hold firm under the weight of impending demands."
Vidura adjusted the map, his movements precise. "It will—every village output, every trade route, every coin is accounted for. Pandu's absence creates a void, but this structure fills it with resilience."
He traced a final connection between regions. "Trade sustains us where taxation alone falters—merchants bear the load they have long evaded."
Bhishma struck the table with a heavy hand, his voice a deep affirmation. "He comprehends the kingdom's entirety—his mind preserves us when all else falters."
The sapphire noble exhaled, his defiance waning. "If the west complies, I will release the grain—provided the north delivers as you claim."
The emerald noble shrugged, his tone grudging. "Taxing trade instead of land might work—I will test it if the tolls prove real."
The crimson noble rubbed his face, relenting slowly. "Guards and tolls—I will shift some men, but it had better pay off."
Vidura stood firm, his dark eyes sweeping the assembly, his voice a steady force. "Justice is arduous, lords, but this sustains us—every component interlocks to fortify Hastinapura."
He rolled the map with deliberate care, the chamber quieting under the weight of his exhaustive resolution.
A guard burst through the doors, his armor clattering loudly, his face flushed with urgency and exhaustion. "Skirmish at the gates!" he shouted, his voice hoarse. "Bandits overwhelm the watch—they cannot hold much longer!"
Bhishma rose abruptly, his eyes blazing, as Vidura turned, their focus shifting instantly to the chaos beyond.