"This whole damned country is mad." The absurdity overwhelmed him. "Low castes, your own people, handled like slaves, and high castes who kill each other in the name of honor. A pox on Rajputs and their fornicating honor."
"Honor is very important. Without honor what is left? We may as well be without caste. The warrior caste lives by a code set down in the Laws of Manu many thousands of years ago." He saw Hawksworth's impatience and smiled sadly. "Do you understand what's meant by dharma?”
"It sounds like another damned Hindu invention. Another excuse to take life."
"Dharma is something, Captain Hawksworth, without which life no longer matters. No Christian, or Muslim, has ever been able to understand dharma, since it is the order that defines our castes—and those born outside India are doomed to live forever without a caste. Dharma defines who we are and what we must do if we are to maintain our caste. Warfare is the dharma of the Kshatriya, the warrior caste."
"And I say a pox on caste. What's so honorable about Rajputs slaughtering each other?"
"Warriors are bound by their dharma to join in battle against other warriors. A warrior who fails in his duty sins against the dharma of his caste." Vasant Rao paused. "But why am I bothering to tell you this? I sound like Krishna, lecturing Arjuna on his duty as a warrior."
"Who's Krishna? Another Rajput?"
"He's a god, Captain Hawksworth, sacred to all Rajputs. He teaches us that a warrior must always honor his dharma."
Vasant Rao's eyes seemed to burn through the shadows of the cell. From outside Hawksworth heard the distant chantings of some village ceremony.
"If you'll listen, feringhi captain, I'll tell you something about a warrior's dharma. There's a legend, many thousands of years old, of a great battle joined between two branches of a powerful dynasty in ancient India. Two kings were brothers, and they shared a kingdom, but their sons could not live in peace. One branch wished to destroy the other. Eventually a battle was joined, a battle to the death. As they waited on the field for the sound of the conch shell, to summon the forces, the leader of those sons who had been wronged suddenly declared that he could not bring himself to kill his own kinsmen. But the god Krishna, who was charioteer for this son, reminded him he must follow his dharma. That there is no greater good for a warrior than to join battle for what is right. It's wrong only if he is attached to the fruits of battle, if he does it for gain. It's told in the Bhagavad-Gita, a Sanskrit scripture sacred to all warriors. I was reciting a verse from Chapter Twelve when you woke."