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Maharaja Ishaan Dev rode Vidyut right from the centre of the Syena formation of the Neelambargarhi soldiers into the disc formation of the Suryapalians. He had to reach the centre to find Ravi Varman accompanied by the Raja of Gandak and the Raja of Vairath. He was running in sharp turns across the field, holding his sword in one hand and the club in the other. He watched how Suryapalians used the pits they dug into the ground as a barrier against raining arrows and catapults, and saw some of them cudgel Neelambargarhi soldiers to death as soon as they ran into their pits. He eyed Raja Girik in his Sangramika chariot running towards Ravi Varman’s circle, and he stopped Vidyut, slashing a soldier charging at him on his way. Then he turned to watch Trishaan Dev in a fight with General Daksh. He had managed to throw the general from his horse, which ran away and was one blow away from bludgeoning him to death.
“Spare the pawns now, will you, Trishaan?” Trishaan Dev stopped as the voice came from over his shoulder. “Look, you have the king.” Trishaan Dev didn’t spare the pawn. With one final blow, General Daksh lay still on the ground while he turned his horse towards Ishaan Dev.
“It is good to see you, Ishaan.” Trishaan Dev smiled. Ishaan Dev was not sure if he was bluffing or if he was actually less intimidated.
“Careful, those can be your last words.” Ishaan Dev charged at Trishaan Dev, who raised his sword. The club smashed against the sword, and after two heavy blows, Trishaan Dev managed to get rid of it. The club was reshaped under the hooves of Trishaan Dev’s horse. Ishaan Dev charged again. His eyes looked mad with rage, and Trishaan Dev’s throat was dry. Still, he wore the smile that always pissed his enemies. He was best at mind games, and he would not give up on them. Swords clashed. Trishaan Dev suddenly took the dagger out of his belt with his spare hand and attacked. Ishaan Dev stopped the blade from rupturing his skin by simply holding back Trishaan Dev’s wrist with his bare hand, inches away from his stomach.
You think you are clever, huh? Ishaan Dev didn’t say it out loud, but Trishaan Dev heard it. Swords clashed again, and this time, Ishaan Dev pushed Trishaan Dev to the ground. His horse was trained well, for it stood there amidst the chaos and did not run, leaving its master behind. Ishaan Dev surprised Trishaan Dev by getting down from Vidyut. Trishaan Dev watched him come closer, waiting like a tiger would for its prey. Then he picked up a handful of dirt and threw it at Ishaan. Ishaan Dev closed his eyes and coughed. By that time, Trishaan Dev had picked up his sword and was up on his feet again.
“I am not going down so easily. I am not giving up.” He murmured. Ishaan Dev aimed his sword.
“I guess the blood of concubines has the stamina if not anything else.” There was a hint of sarcasm in Ishaan Dev’s voice. It triggered Trishaan Dev into a fit of rage. He attacked Ishaan Dev, who took a step back and defended as he picked up a shield with his bare hand from a dead soldier nearby. Trishaan Dev swung his sword mercilessly across the shield without even looking. The contact point of the sword and shield made sparks fly.
“She was NOT a concubine. She was an honourable, noble lady whom your father exploited. Your entire clan is filthy, not her.” Trishaan Dev stopped as his sword locked with Ishaan’s. Ishaan could see the perspiration and tears in Trishaan Dev’s red face.
“Is that what you have been told?” He pushed Trishaan Dev away as he charged again. "Ah, poor thing."
“Ask your two-faced aunt, you asshole.” Trishaan Dev swung his sword again. “Ask her who is more deserving of that throne.” Ishaan Dev could take it no more. He was here for Tarabai, for Mrityunjoy, who would not have seen the light of day for this man. For Priyambada, whose life he risked. He needed to pay for his sins. Ishaan Dev hit him with the shield first. It hit his helmet, which fell apart, and Trishaan Dev was on the ground again. Before he could gather his sword, Ishaan Dev’s foot was on his palm, and his body shadowed the midday sun over Trishaan Dev’s head. Ishaan Dev dropped his sword. He would not give Trishaan Dev a hero’s death by assaulting a weaponless man with his sword. He held Trishaan Dev’s throat with his bare hands. The veins on his hand began to show as Trishaan Dev struggled. He tried to scratch at Ishaan Dev’s hold in vain with his hands and grasped at the air for his weapon. He kicked the soil under his feet as it began to slip away. Ishaan Dev now put the weight of his body on his enemy's chest. In what looked like an eternity to Ishaan Dev, his eyes didn’t leave the prize as Trishaan Dev struggled one last time, and his eyes were still. Ishaan Dev could feel the life breathe out of him as he felt a sudden sense of overwhelm. Ishaan Dev stood over the corpse and spat on it, then he picked up his sword and summoned Vidyut with a whistle. He rode away to help others as Trishaan Dev's corpse gathered dust.
Raja Sarthak’s chariot was under attack by the cavalry of Neelambargarh. He was using his bow and poison arrows to keep them a safe distance away from his chariot when he heard another chariot running towards him. His gaze turned from the cavalry to the man standing with his spear pointed at the top of the double horse-drawn chariot. Raya Vishyam of Mait could be old, but in the field of war, it also meant he was experienced. Raja Sarthak knew he needed help. He gestured at some of the troops to take care of the cavalry as he allowed his charioteer to run to the king of Mait and block his path. He raised his bow as Raya Vishyam threw his spear. Raja Sarthak ducked as the spear brushed against his headgear and toppled it. He stood up again to fire his arrows, to be countered by Raya Vishyam. Although at war, often rivals deserved admiration for their defence skills. Raja Sarthak could not help but admire Raya Vishyam. The last time they met was when he had declared an impulsive battle when his son was to be engaged to Raya Vishyam’s daughter. He had heard of the death of the princess and the rumours surrounding it. As a father, he felt sorry, yet as an enemy, he could not help but wonder if he managed to kill the king of Mait and they indeed won the war, perhaps he could request Ravi Varman to incorporate Mait into his kingdom. They were both worshippers of the Blue One, and Raja Sarthak could do with some expansion under his name. He had allowed himself to be distracted when Raya Vishyam fired a spear at him, its head like a ball with spikes on it. It damaged one of his horses, and the chariot shook, forcing Raja Sarthak to get down. Raya Vishyam was a man of honour. He had nothing to lose. He took out his swords in both hands and ran towards the Raja. A stray arrow hit him from the back and pierced through his heart. Raja Sarthak took two steps back as he looked around to see if anyone was trying to help him. He could find none as the man stumbled to the ground. Catapults were being charged, and Raja Sarthak made a run for it. He glanced over his shoulder while he ran and spotted a huge rock from a catapult hitting the twitching body of Raya Vishyam and stopping right over his face. He was sure the man would now be unrecognisable if not for his emblems. He said a soft prayer for the man as he hid behind the ditch, waiting for the rain of catapults to stop from either side.
Raja Girik faced the princes of Vairath for most of the day. He put up a strong fight until Raja Viraj came to his aid, and they managed to kill Sumedha’s cousin. The infuriated Raja of Vairath attacked them with his troops for the fallen prince. Ravi Varman was about to join when Raja Sarthak of Gandak stopped him.
“You stay here, I will go.” He managed as he galloped across to the chariot of the Raja of Vairath, and they engaged in a rain of arrows with Raja Girik of Anantanagar and Raja Viraj of Maanwari. It was when the Raja of Vairath was hit by a poison arrow to his chest that Raja Sarthak retreated to a different wing for good. Ravi Varman was quick to turn his chariot to his father-in-law and come to the aid of the king as Raja Viraj chased after the king of Gandak. It was then that Ravi Varman came face-to-face with Raja Girik.
Raja Girik could be an able administrator, but the lack of war in the past decade in his motherland had made him a little rusty. Most of the smaller battles were handled by ministers, and he found himself engaging in a difficult duel with the competent Ravi Varman. When Ravi Varman managed to attack his charioteer, making sure the chariot was at a standstill, Raja Girik realised he was not one to play by the rules. Raja Girik targeted his chariot wheel. Now both the kings were on their feet, with their swords out, ready to charge. At first, Ravi Varman struggled with his inner self. This was Nayantara’s husband. Whatever issues he had with Ishaan Dev, he never stopped treating her like a sister. She would never forgive him. Raja Girik saw him lose concentration as he swung his sword and managed to injure Ravi Varman even as he ducked. A sharp cut across his cheek made him stare at his blood, and angered him. He charged at Raja Girik, and before long, he was at Ravi Varman’s feet, one swing away from death. Ravi Varman raised his sword. Raja Girik had surrendered. But he couldn’t get himself to slash his throat like he intended to. He stood there, breathing heavily, his shadow falling over the fallen king as he froze, and the conch shells blew. It was dusk. Ravi Varman stepped back from him and began to walk away.
“Why did you spare me?” Raja Girik managed to stand upright and ask, mostly in shock. Ravi Varman stopped. He half turned towards Raja Girik and had a faint smile at the tip of his lips.
“Tell Nayantara I hope she is doing well,” he said, walking away, leaving the Raja embarrassed and surprised. He decided to write to his wife, hoping that she could make more sense of her half-brother’s actions.
Ravi Varman was washing away his bruises when the soldier came and bowed.
“Your Highness, Raja Sarthak of Gandak sent me here. We need to summon Vamsi Gupta.”
“Vamsi Gupta? Why? Trishaan Dev…” Ravi Varman froze as he looked up at the soldier who lowered his head. He rushed to where the bodies were kept, and Raja Sarthak silently led him to the bodies of Trishaan Dev and the Raja of Vairath.
“Oh no. No. Trishaan.” Ravi Varman was on his knees, looking pale. Something Raja Sarthak didn’t expect. “Who… Ishaan!” He could see the strangulation marks on the body as his hand trembled, and he put a sheet of cloth over Trishaan Dev’s face and stood up.
“I will do his last rites along with the Raja of Vairath's.”
“But Maharaja, if you do that… people will ask questions.” Raja Sarthak murmured into his ear. “Kings can only honour kings and royals at war… right?”
“He was my brother.” Raja Sarthak watched Ravi Varman’s voice tremble. “He was… a royal…”
“And a contender to the throne?” Raja Sarthak sounded relieved all of a sudden. It disgusted Ravi Varman. “Leave me alone, I have had enough.” The Raja was about to leave when he asked, “Why did you ask for Vamsi?”
“Umm… two reasons, Your Majesty.” Raja Sarthak waited for his nod before continuing. “We are running out of resources, and now with no Trishaan Dev or the royals of Vairath, only a few generals are left… and… He can command the peasants, masons and workers to march to war for us. He has done so before,” he cleared his throat. “His son is badly injured. If he could reach in a day or two, chances are he will see him alive.” Ravi Varman’s throat went dry. “Send a message to the capital immediately. Also, another to the queen about… Vairath and Trishaan Dev.” He sighed.
Haimanti didn’t have to wait for the letter to know something was wrong. The moment Vamsi Gupta bowed wearily to the queen, telling them he was summoned and asking who should be in charge of the palace, her heart sank a little. She understood very little of warfare, but knew this much that Vamsi was a backup. Her worst fear was confirmed by the next messenger. The queen sat down on the floor beside her, in silent tears as she bawled. She didn’t care for protocol or for the fact that she was in the palace. Nothing mattered anymore.
“I knew something was wrong. I could sense it.” She kept repeating as Sumedha held her in an embrace and cried. She had her own losses and the fear of greater ones. With her father and brothers gone, who would protect her children in Vairath? Was it safe to bring them back, also? Sumedha needed to find someone to take care of the administration. Could she do it herself?
The sound of wails alerted Ratnawati in her chambers. She abandoned her prayer beads and walked across the corridor in a hurry to meet Vamsi Gupta walking back. He informed her of the letters. Ratnawati sighed. All was not over. She tiptoed to Sumedha’s chambers as the guards eyed her. Then she walked across, appearing to be busy and reached the lawns beside her chambers. She could hear Haimanti sob. What were they saying?
“I had told him not to be so ambitious. Told him to leave his vengeance alone. Nothing would come of it.” She shook her head. “He wanted it all.” Sumedha watched Haimanti rant as she continued. “Nobody cared about his pedigree.”
“What do you mean, Haimanti?” Sumedha asked as she looked up at the queen.
“Did you know his mother was not a concubine? He was as noble as I, perhaps more.” Sumedha’s eyebrows widened as she asked with a dry throat, “What do you mean?” Haimanti wiped away her tears and told her what Trishaan Dev had heard from Mandakini Devi. “I told him not to be over-ambitious. He said he was best for the throne.”
“The throne?” Sumedha stood up, a little horrified. “Was he double-crossing Ravi?” She asked as Haimanti looked scared. “Tell me the truth, Haimanti, if you don’t want to be tried as an accessory to his plans.”
“He is dead, Your Highness, and if you lock me up for life, it will not matter anymore.” Haimanti sobbed again. Sumedha remembered suddenly how Priyambada’s kindness made her open up to her. She inhaled her pride and sat down beside Haimanti. “Tell me everything you know. I need to save my children. I need to save Suryapali.”
“All I know is that he planned to instigate the brothers into war so that both of them are killed or the winner is assassinated and he rises to the throne of Suryapali. Trust me, I never encouraged him; in fact, I told him to stop, but he said the dynasty will perish in its own hands because of what they did to my mother.”
“But the brothers…”
“The Maharaja was fed the idea by his mother and Trishaan. He said that he wouldn’t have taken the throne himself in a thousand years from Ishaan if they didn’t build animosity. His mother knew about…” Haimanti shook her head and stopped. “I am sorry, Your Highness. Pardon my audacity. I want to make things right, hoping he will be spared from some sins.”
“Then speak up, and hurry. We don’t have much time.” Sumedha urged.
“Rani Ratnawati was aware of you and him, yet she made sure you married Ishaan Dev to give rise to a personal vendetta. Trishaan planned attacks on them repeatedly, and the Maharaja only came to know of it afterwards or when it was too late. He was never involved in any treason against Neelambargarh, yet when they were foiled, his name came up as part of the plan.” Haimanti inhaled. “All in a bid to harm their reputations, Trishaan continued to read and change letters between royals, creating misunderstandings and even making sure Maanwari didn’t find support in Suryapali. The plan to summon Chandrameri by letter was a deliberate attempt at weakening the side.” Haimanti inhaled. “He was in touch with the Raiders and a group of rebels from Meendeep who sought revenge for his brutality in their state. They assumed their enemy was the king, not him. He was planning to get Ravi Varman assassinated and your children kidnapped when we won, and if we lost, he was planning to do the same to Ishaan Dev using the Raiders.” Sumedha sank back on the floor in silence as Haimanti sobbed.
“All this… for what?” Sumedha looked up at Haimanti. “You need to help me now.”
“Tell me how I can, Your Highness. I have had the burden of truth for so long for the man I love.” Haimanti sobbed. “It was suffocating me.”
“Your truth can save both Neelambargarh, Suryapali and this dynasty,” Sumedha spoke. “Come with me and write down everything you just said, in a letter.”
“To whom?” Haimanti asked, a little scared.
“The Queen of Neelambargarh.”
Suryapali had just woken up from a nightmare. Within hours of Vamsi Gupta getting the command, guards raided workshops, colonies and villages and rounded up anyone fit enough to fight. Men, teenage boys and even some older men were summoned for compulsory service in the army to save their state. Never had they imagined such a day to arrive. How could their king do this? Mothers wailed as reluctant teens were whipped out of their homes to join the marching army. Men from the workshops were picked up. Even the heirs of fallen generals were not spared. As men of every section of the society poured out on the streets, marching alongside guards on horseback behind Vamsi Gupta to the battlefield, women and children looked horrified in tears, and the elderly citizens of Suryapali prayed for better days. The commoners did not even want a war. It did not matter to them who was on the throne as long as they were safe. But it looked like the feud between the brothers had spilt out to the streets and cost people more than they imagined. Those who resisted being part of the marching troop were beaten and whipped until they gave in or gave up. But the sound of their wails seemed to fade before they reached the ears of the royals across the tall walls of the palace. Or so they thought.
