Upon entering the opulent palace of Hastinapur, the Pandavas and Draupadi were gently separated from the Kauravas and escorted to Kunti's chambers for rest and conversation. Kunti, her face lighting with maternal joy, embraced her sons and daughter-in-law. "My children, returned to me after so long! Yudhishthira, my eldest, how your heart must yearn for this home. Bhima, Arjuna, Nakula, Sahadeva—come, sit. Draupadi, my Panchali, you've brought light to our house."
Yudhishthira bowed, his voice warm. "Mata, we are all fine, how are you?"
Draupadi smiled, "Pranipat, Mata Kunti. We're whole again." The women shared stories, Kunti's eyes misty. "The years without you were shadows, but now, with you here, Hastinapur breathes."
After a while, the males proceeded to the grand sabha hall, its marble pillars draped in silk banners, the air scented with agarwood. The Pandavas were given seats of honor beside the Kauravas, their thrones carved with lotus motifs.
Guests—nobles from Kuru and allied kingdoms—were welcomed with a flourish, conch shells blaring as dancers in flowing ghagra cholis performed the Ras Leela, their anklets chiming to flutes and drums.
Bards sang epics of the Kurus, praising Yudhishthira's wisdom and Duryodhana's valor. The assembly clapped, the atmosphere festive yet laced with undercurrents of rivalry.
As the programs ended, the hall quieted, the main event looming. Yudhishthira's hands itched with anticipation, his eyes gleaming at the polished dyut board inlaid with ivory and lapis.
A herald explained the rules, his voice clear. "Noble assembly, the dyut is simple: both parties stake items of equivalent value. The loser concedes or raises the stake to continue. May dharma guide the dice, and fortune favor the just."
Rudra, seated among the Kauravas, observed with a blank expression. Disgust stirred in him—the game's allure was a trap, as the tale of Nala and Damayanti taught, where addiction stripped a king of all. He shook his head slightly, murmuring to Vikarna, "This dyut is a serpent in silk, Mamashree. Nala lost everything to its bite—why tempt fate?"
Vikarna nodded, "Rudra, your wisdom sees what others ignore. But Suyodhana insists on it for unity."
Duryodhana, rising, addressed Yudhishthira with a smile. "Bhrata Yudhishthira, my Mamashree Shakuni will play on my behalf. Let the game be a bridge between our houses, testing not just luck, but brotherhood."
Yudhishthira, confident, nodded. "Agreed, Suyodhana. As a Kshatriya, I accept the challenge. May the better player prevail, and our ties strengthen."
The game began, stakes small—pearls, jewels, horses. Yudhishthira won some rounds, his dice rolling true, the sabha cheering. "Well played, Dharmaraja!" Bhishma called.
But as rounds progressed, his losses mounted, Shakuni's dice seeming to favor Duryodhana.
Soon, Yudhishthira staked and lost the entire treasury, amassed from his Digvijaya—a fortune of gold and gems. "It's but a trifle," he said, his voice steady, though his eyes flickered.
The sabha murmured, Vidura whispering to Bhishma, "This turns ill."
Undeterred, Yudhishthira raised the stake. "I bet the palace of Indraprastha, its halls of maya and splendor." The dice rolled, and loss struck again.
The sabha gasped, Duryodhana's face lighting with triumph. "Bhrata, you've wagered boldly—let's continue!"
Yudhishthira, his expression resolute, pressed on. "I stake all Indraprastha and its lands." Loss followed, the Pandavas' faces paling.
The sabha thought the madness ended, but Yudhishthira's eyes, clouded by the game's grip, turned to his brothers. "I stake Nakula," he declared, his voice tight.
Bhishma's face darkened. "Yudhishthira, stop this folly! Even King Nala never staked his kin. Come to your senses—you're a king, not a gambler!"
Vidura added, his voice urgent. "Dharmaraja, this is adharma! Nakula is your brother, not a stake. End this now, before it consumes you."
Yudhishthira's jaw set, his voice defiant. "Pitamaha, Kakaji, I must win back what's lost. A Kshatriya's honor demands I press on. Nakula, do you consent?"
Nakula, his face calm, nodded. "Bhrata, I stand with you. Let the dice decide." The game continued, and Nakula was lost. The sabha fell silent, Duryodhana's triumph evident.
Yudhishthira, undaunted, staked Sahadeva. Bhishma protested again. "Enough, Yudhishthira! You've gambled your kingdom—now your brothers? This is not dharma; it's delusion!"
Vidura pleaded, "Tatshri is right. Sahadeva is your blood—stake yourself if you must, but spare your kin!"
Yudhishthira, his voice strained, replied, "I have no choice—victory will free us all. Sahadeva, your consent?"
Sahadeva bowed. "As you wish, Bhrata." Loss struck, and Sahadeva joined Nakula as slaves.
The madness escalated. Yudhishthira staked Arjuna. "Gandiva's wielder, my greatest asset," he said, his hands trembling. The sabha recoiled, Bhishma's voice thunderous. "Yudhishthira, you've lost your empire and brothers—now Arjuna? The Kurus will not abide this! Cease, or you'll destroy our house!"
Arjuna, his eyes fierce, said, "Bhrata, I consent, but win this for us." The dice rolled, and Arjuna was lost.
Finally, Yudhishthira staked Bhima. "My brother of strength," he murmured.
Bhishma has given up trying to convince Yudhisthira.
Bhima, his voice gruff, said, "Bhrata, I trust you. Let the game end with me." Loss claimed Bhima, the sabha in stunned horror.
The elders' pleas fell on deaf ears as Yudhishthira staked himself. "The Dharmaraja," he declared, his voice hollow. Loss followed, and he joined his brothers as slaves.
The Kauravas rejoiced, Dushasana shouting, "Victory for Hastinapur!" The elders stood with bowed heads, disappointment etched on their faces.
Dhritarashtra, his heart swelling, said, "My sons, the dice have spoken." Rudra, seated among the Kauravas, felt a wave of disgust. "This is no game of dharma," he thought, "but a pit of adharma. Yudhishthira's pride blinds him, and Shakuni's dice weave ruin."
The people thought the madness ended, but Shakuni's voice slithered forth. "Dharmaraja, you've lost all but one stake—your wife, Draupadi. Bet her, and win it all back. A Kshatriya's honor demands you risk everything for victory."
Bhishma's face paled, his voice a roar. "Shakuni, for the sake of the gods, stop! How can you suggest this heinous act? Yudhishthira, come to your senses before you destroy the Kuru name!"
Vidura, his eyes blazing, added, "Tatshri is right! Draupadi is Panchal's fireborn daughter, our kula vadhu—gambling with her is sin incarnate! Yudhishthira, end this now, or history will curse you!"
Shakuni leaned forward, his voice oily. "Noble elders, it's but a stake, like gold or land. Dharmaraja, your brothers, your kingdom—win them back with this final throw. What's a wife to a king's honor?"
Yudhishthira hesitated, his face tormented, his hands trembling. "I… I…"
But before he could finish, Rudra's voice cut through the hall, sharp and unyielding. "Samrat? You foolish man, come to your senses! There is nothing honorable left in you. You are nothing but a miserable wretch, thinking of betting your wife like a sack of grain. Mamashree Duryodhana, don't malign your name in history by being part of this heinous crime. This is adharma, pure and vile—stop it now, before the gods themselves turn away!"
The sabha fell silent, every eye turning to Rudra, the young prince's words ringing like a trishul's strike. Yudhishthira's face reddened, his voice defensive. "You wouldn't understand anything about the honor of a Kshatriya, Rajkumar Rudra. This is a game of fate—dharma demands I face it, stake and all. A king risks everything for his kingdom's glory. What do you know of such burdens?"
Rudra's eyes flashed, his voice steady but laced with disdain. "Honor? There is nothing honorable in this farce. You've gambled your treasury, your palace, your brothers, yourself—and now your wife? A Kshatriya's honor protects the weak, not enslaves them. You call this dharma? It's a delusion, Yudhishthir, a pit that swallows the soul. Mamashree Suyodhana, don't let this stain Hastinapur. End it, or history will judge you all as fools."
Duryodhana, his face conflicted, glanced at Shakuni, then Rudra, the hall's eyes upon him, waiting for the yuvraj's word to halt the game's descent into darkness.