When Bards romanticise wars as battles between right and wrong, when History is written by court chronicles of the winner, and when events are questioned or re-evaluated thousands of years later, it is only a shadow of the actual brutality of war and not what happened. Watching thousands of bodies cover the bloody grounds day after day at dusk, being dragged away to be burnt on the banks of Maya, thousands more injured, fighting for their lives, screaming in agony after losing their hands or legs, a man with a register inspecting bodies and noting down names, the names would eventually turn to exaggerated numbers in the court depending on which side won, workers working at the battlefield from dusk to dawn, picking up bodies and dragging away broken weapons to clear the field for the next day; everything that was never written about was witnessed by kings. Perhaps that hardened them and made them devoid of emotions over battles.
Fear makes people do strange things. Never in his life had Trishaan Dev cared so much about his life as he did in his first battle facing Ishaan Dev. It was strange how he had aced all the examinations they took together at the training school, yet Ishaan Dev emerged the better soldier on the field every time. Worse, the Raja of Gandak had so much influence on Ravi Varman that he heard them exchange a plan to save himself. The last two days, Ishaan seemed to be after Ravi Varman, and not him, yet he was set up almost like a bait to lure Ishaan Dev into their formation. He did not realise it on the first day when Ravi Varman narrated his role partially to him. On the second day, he was sure. Ravi Varman was ready to sacrifice him for his own safety. Killing him would perhaps make Ishaan Dev less ruthless. Trishaan Dev tightened his jaw at the conversation and laughter that followed before he walked away. That was when he decided. He had one more ace in his hand to play, without letting Ravi Varman know. If he was going down, he wouldn’t go down alone.
When Trishaan Dev watched Madan Rai lamenting over not saying goodbye to his son, he felt jealous. Jealous that the father loved his son so, or perhaps even aware that if it were him, there would be a small formal obituary read out in the town squares, a few praises heaped, and everyone would continue with their lives like he never existed. He shook his head, amused. Perhaps they would even be pleased that the thorn that pricked the reputation of the royal dynasty of the sun was finally removed. He started to gather his weapons as soon as the birds chirped, and his thoughts travelled to Haimanti. He hadn’t written to her ever since the war started. He remembered the last day when Ishaan Dev had chased him to the rear of the formation, or the day he had been angry at the sight of him. He took a scroll and scribbled on it in a hurry. About how things often made him question his choices, about how life could have been different if he had been raised differently and most importantly, about his worst fears. He wanted her to remember him, but not suffer in life alone. He knew it would scare her, but he needed to do it. Leave instructions in writing to Haimanti in case something happens to him. She deserved a happy life.
Ishaan Dev had received the latest news from the capital that the losses were huge to both property and life. General Shivanandan had taken over, but unfortunately, the royals of Meendeep didn’t survive. Ishaan Dev frowned. He had left clear instructions to Mahendra to stay put at the port. What was he doing at the capital? He immediately dispatched Devdoot towards the ports. His instructions were simple.
“If you feel threatened, attack first. Take Meendeep and make a base, then move towards Suryapali’s port.” Devdoot sought permission to take a detour through the main camp on the other side of the Maya. Raja Viraj observed the king of Neelambargarh from a distance. This was the Ishaan Dev that Priyambada once hated and feared. He understood how people change with circumstances. Raja Viraj concentrated on the accountant’s book of losses once more, forcing his eyes away from the disturbed king to the numbers. Could they afford to continue the battle? Truth be told, they were nowhere near a decisive win. And the losses were high. The attack on the citizens at the capital didn’t help either. But who would tell Ishaan Dev to quit? Could the queen? He decided to write to Priyambada, not as a king or their chief of arms but as a friend. Someone needed to let Ishaan Dev know when to stop.
Priyambada was relieved to receive a letter from Vrinda addressed to Urvi, but the news of the royal family broke her heart even more. She lamented to Urvi how helpless she was, that she couldn’t protect those who sought her in need.
“My mother was far better, Urvi. She raised Kumar Viraj so well.” Urvi shook her head in silent protest against her mistress’s ramblings. The news of Priyam Dev’s escape came later, and Sashi and Priyambada couldn’t help but think about what Ishaan Dev thought about that. For a moment, she feared he would mistrust her once again or question the integrity of her people. After a long time, Neelambargarh and Ishaan Dev were fitting into each other and to Priyambada, everything seemed to fall apart.
“I can’t believe he is asking Suryapali to protect him,” Urvi exclaimed involuntarily and apologised immediately to her mistress. Priyambada sighed, wiping away her tears.
“I don’t believe Suryapali will ever let a Neelambargarhi prince live.” She paused. “The new Suryapali.” She murmured. “I need to find him and bring him back.” She stood up, surprising Urvi. She instructed Sashi to find a messenger and seek her brother out. She had a deal he couldn’t refuse.
By the morning, Devdoot had arrived with a few soldiers, surprising them. He said he was instructed to go to the ports, and it scared Urvi. He was supposed to start his journey after lunch. Every time Priyambada tasted the simple cooking of the camp kitchen, she couldn’t help but wonder about the soldiers on the battlefield and the citizens back home. Every time she lost her appetite.
“You have to eat, Your Highness.” Devdoot followed Urvi’s gesture and spoke to her. “You can’t fall sick. Things are already hard for us.”
“Devdoot, tell me honestly. You have been one of my oldest companions. Are we losing it?” Her voice trembled as Urvi glared at her husband. He shook his head.
“It is too early to say so, Your Highness, but …” Priyambada looked up at his face as he inhaled. “Maintaining a big army means big expenditure and bigger losses. With the attack on the capital damaging the entire city, and the citizens at stake, the ports are on alert… I…” He stopped. Should he dare to utter the words? He continued as his jaws tightened. “We are not sure how much longer we can continue the war feasibly.”
“What about them?” Priyambada asked. Devdoot didn’t know. “Their capital isn’t burning, is it?” There was a hint of taunt in her voice. Devdoot looked up at her face. Was she thinking of attacking their capital?
Before Devdoot could speak again, a commotion was heard from the forest. Animals called in alarm, and birds flew over their heads under the afternoon sun. Before long, horse hooves were heard, and the bells began to ring.
“We are under attack,” Devdoot spoke, raising his sword. “Urvi, take her out of the front gates.”
“How did they attack us from the Neelambargarhi side?” Urvi exclaimed as Maharani Priyambada stood up and rushed to the chest as if in a trance.
“It is time, Urvi, assemble the women.” She picked up her sword.
Priyam Dev had accompanied the Northern Raiders to attack the Neelambargarhi camp. Trishaan Dev’s instructions to him were clear. “Take your revenge on your sister and prove your loyalty to us.” He was scared, but the adrenaline rush just by imagining avenging his mother’s death was huge. Trishaan Dev’s plan was simple. Destroy the camp, kill or kidnap the queen. Ishaan Dev will have to stop the war and surrender. The Raiders were not like anyone Priyam Dev ever knew. They were rugged, raw, uncivilised and ruthless. He stopped his horse as he watched them break the walls and gates of the back side of the camp. The Neelambargarhi soldiers had started raining arrows.
“Make sure it looks unrelated. A loot and a revenge from the Raiders.” Priyam Dev spoke as if he were assigned to lead these unruly men. But it seemed like nobody heard him. He galloped his horse towards the camp, watching the Neelambargarhi flag soar high as he took out his sword from his scabbard.
Devdoot was at the wall with his troops defending the camp. A few Raiders travelled further to the sides and breached a part of the wall. While arrows rained on them, Priyam Dev managed to enter with a few men. The men rushed in roaring like wild animals and destroying every jug and pail on their way. They set one of the tents on fire. Two guards were quick to douse it.
“Quick, soldiers, guard the armoury and accounts.” Priyambada had tightly wrapped her drape over her hair and around her side. “Women, come with me.” They had reached the shrine of the Goddess. “We are not letting them take over our camp. Whatever they are here for, they will not get the victory today. I am not letting the chance to defend my state go.” The women nodded. The troops were fighting back, most of them. They were unskilled warriors. It meant they didn’t know much about strategy, but also didn’t follow any rules. Priyambada raised her sword, ready to charge at the men running towards her with axes, clubs and thrashing rods, her heart thumping in her chest.
“Attack.” She slashed through one of the men. She didn’t see his face. A strategy Raja Viraj once told her about. The blood spattered on her clothes as she grunted. The women charged at the remaining men, who clearly looked surprised. Priyambada had stopped two men on their way to the treasury by slashing one’s throat and hitting the other on the head. She then turned as she sensed another attacker approaching her. Before she could react to the sight of him, Priyam Dev swung his sword, aiming at her stomach. Urvi pulled her away in the nick of time, and the sword grazed Priyambada’s arm, making her bleed. Priyam turned to swing again as Urvi stopped his attempt. Priyambada regained her balance, watching her brother stare at her with disgust and hatred. Her throat was dry.
“You killed my mother. You will pay for it.” He said, pushing Urvi away as she landed on the cobbled path. Priyambada’s jaws tightened.
“And you tried to kill my unborn child.” Priyambada reasoned.
“That filthy blood of Sury…” Priyam Dev could speak no longer as Urvi shrieked, and he fell over. Devdoot’s spear was still in his back. Priyambada stepped back as Devdoot rushed to them. He helped Urvi to stand up and noticed her bruises.
“Her Highness is bleeding.” Urvi gasped. Priyambada knelt before the still body of her younger brother and breathed in as tears wet her cheeks. Urvi rushed to comfort her, but she stood up quickly to wipe her tears.
“I am fine, are the women?” Devdoot cleared his throat. “The Raiders are dead.”
“What about the women, Devdoot?” Priyambada glanced over her shoulder at the troop she had proudly assembled. Some of them panted while holding on to their bruises. Others cried. Two of them lay still. Very still.
“One is a maid. Another noble lady of Siyori, daughter of…” Devdoot stopped at Priyambada’s hand gesture.
“They have names.” She grunted. “Send a message to Maharaja immediately. And arrange for funerals. Even his.” Priyambada spared one last glance at the fallen. Devdoot nodded and ran out. The bells had stopped tolling. Suddenly, there was dead silence, and Priyambada looked up at the sky, turning oddly red in the hue of the setting sun. She groaned a little as Urvi rushed to attend to her injured hand. Urvi watched her eyes sparkle again. This time, not with hopelessness but pride.
“We did it, Urvi.” She spoke. “We must ascertain the loss and start to rebuild the security that was breached.”
“Yes, My Lady, but first let me help you.” Priyambada wondered how Urvi sounded so calm after what happened. It was only when she had finished her investigation by midnight and sent the visibly shaken women to sleep that Urvi asked the question that troubled her mind.
“Why did the Raiders choose to raid here when they could go to a city and…”
“You think my brother joined an unruly branch of raiders?” Priyambada raised her eyebrows and shook her head. “This has Trishaan Dev written all over it.”
“That little bastard.” Ishaan Dev flung the scroll into the fire of the burning torch as Devdoot stood in silence. “He will pay for it.” He dismissed Devdoot, who headed down to the ports, making his journey through the night. There was no time to waste. Ishaan Dev spent a sleepless night, pacing and planning. He was longing to see Priyambada. He didn’t trust her words about suffering minor injuries. He was glad Priyam Dev was dead, for good. But how was Priyambada doing? She wanted to spare his life and doted on him. She once said in vain to her husband that Priyam was being manipulated. He loved her dearly. Ishaan Dev hoped she saw through things now.
Maharani Priyambada prayed to the goddess of war at the shrine. Urvi stood as a mute spectator as she wiped away her tears. Who was she crying for? Her people? Her brother? The fear that shook her? Or for herself? She knew Ishaan Dev’s thoughts like her own. She knew the dawn would bring a new battle. The Battle of Maya had just begun.
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