part0054

Arjan had seen little as to what had happened. The archers had strung their bows, and they were waiting for his command. Even now, he could see from far the western end where Roshan Mitra was waiting with his own set of archers. Kripa was on that side too, hiding behind a rock. Nothing had happened.

And then in the midst of the green, hot plain, he was able to see someone running. His eyes terrified, his mouth agape. It was someone big, large…Bala. The thought crossed his mind, but it was idiotic to think that a person like Bala would be running from the war.

No. It was indeed Bala.

He was coming towards them.

“Hold your fire,” Kripa said what Arjan wanted to say.

As he came forward, away from the bushes that concealed him, he saw two guards running behind Bala. And just yards away from them were Rakshas. They weren’t sprinting like ordinary beings, but were fighting the breeze, as if trying to tackle it. They lurched on the guards, with their axes, and chopped their heads off. They reached for Bala, but before that Kripa ordered the volley of arrows.

The two Rakshas were hit by the arrows. Bala staggered past the line of archers that were meters from Arjan and Kripa. He grabbed for the leaves and the grass, panting restlessly, demanding water that Arjan rushed to get. There were five pots filled with fresh water from the lake that they had planned to use when the archers would get tired. Arjan helped Bala as he began to quench his thirst. Once done, he said, “They are coming. It’s over. They got…uh… they got…” he was having a hard time breathing, “they got Kalki.”

Kripa exchanged a worried glance with Arjan.

“We need to get him, mate,” Kripa urgently bade Arjan.

“Who won the combat?”

Bala looked down. He had lost.

“We did. Kalki saved me from getting killed.” He was on the verge of tears. But Arjan saw more than just the sadness. He saw disappointment. “The fighter, he was so…he was so small. I should have been able to…”

Kripa knelt down and grabbed him by the tunic. “Now listen, fat man. Get this in your thick head.” He had a rather blunt way of speaking now, which one would not very easily reconcile with his usual drunken swagger. “We are about to die, so I don’t need your weeping. I need your brawns.”

“But he was so…so…small.”

Kripa sighed. “Never underestimate your enemy. Size, big or small, doesn’t matter if the other knows what the pressure points are.”

And that was when they heard the roars. Kripa came forward, while Arjan saw what he couldn’t believe. Like bees swarming around a hive, it was Rakshas all over the place. They had entered with axes, swords, spears and javelins. Arjan ran for cover as he grabbed a bow from his quiver and shot an arrow, hitting a rakshas who was sprinting towards him.

And just like that, Arjan saw they had even taken control of the huts, along Roshan Mitra’s side. Some were even moving towards Lyla’s group, where most of the guards had been stationed. Perhaps, she would be able to stop them. Perhaps.

That was when the Rakshas entered his territory. A group of people at the back of the archers began to use the bolas. They tossed it towards the Rakshas. Initially caught unawares, soon they paid no heed to the small explosions. The archers shot the arrows, but most of them just dodged them. The ones who got hit were hit on their necks or in their foreheads, just knocking them down on the spot.

The surviving Rakshas just lurched from their positions, grabbing the bows, and stabbed the archers. They even managed to cut them deep, ripping their torsos apart. Seeing all the people he had lived his entire life with being killed like this, Arjan couldn’t believe his eyes at what was happening. The volunteers fought hard, some even managed to kill, but most of the time they were beaten and became victims of the wrath that was the Rakshas.

Arjan saw Bala, who was hiding behind the tree. Finding his foothold on the path, he raced to him and grabbed him by the waist, “What are you doing? Help us! Fight!” He shot another arrow that instantly pierced a Rakshas’ head.

“I am…I don’t know…I don’t know if I’ll be able to. I’m not…not strong…I lost.” Bala’s pupils were dilated in mute fear.

“Strength doesn’t mean you win every time. It also means to stand up again when you fall down once.”

And at that time, the Rakshas had come forward. Arjan pulled back the string after fitting the bow, when he was grabbed by the Rakshas and thrown to the side. It went on to attack Bala, who could have easily attacked him back, but he just let him kick and choke him. Arjan saw no hope in Bala anymore. But he did see something fascinating in Kripa, who had a sword in his hand, just plunging it deep inside the Rakshas who had attacked Bala.

“Fat man; get us where we can get to Kalki.”

“We will all die,” said the wimpy Bala.

The Rakshas had managed to ravage most of the archers, but there were three of them still alive, ready to pounce at Arjan now. He was out of bows. Kripa held out the swords in front of him.

The three Rakshas grinned in unison, as if linked. One of them went for Arjan, and that was when he felt helpless as the Rakshas jumped on him and began to attack him. With each plunge of the axe that was directed towards his head, Arjan tried to dodge as best as he could. He used his knee and hit the Rakshas between his knees. Scavenging for his fallen bow, he staggered over the grass and smacked the bow across the Rakshas, which did not really yield the effect he desired. He lunged, his blade glimmering in the sunlight, when a big figure rammed against it.

Arjan realized it was none other than Bala, who was over the Rakshas and had his mace pummeling the hapless and bewildered Rakshas. Bala then casually, with blood sprayed all over his chest and face, walked to the Rakshas who was leering at Kripa. Arjan realized the third Rakshas who had attacked Bala was already ripped in half, as if Bala had broken a piece from a loaf of bread. When the Rakshas who was attacking Kripa saw what happened to his friends, he backed off, leaning against the tree in fear. Bala came forward, thumping his mace over his palm as if waiting to smack the man instantly.

And he was about to do that, Kripa stopped him.

“We need to know more about the camp.”

The Rakshas just blinked. “Honestly, I have no idea about the camp.” His accent was thick.

“You can kill him.” Kripa shrugged, wiping the blood from his face.

Bala began the massive pounding session once again, when Arjan stopped him.

“Can you stop scaring me?” the Rakshas pleaded, almost falling over the ground and begging. It was funny since he was trying to be dominating earlier. “Just kill me if you have to, don’t put me on the verge of…” his voice trailed off and he began speaking rapidly in his native tongue.

Kripa pulled him back up. Frightened, the Rakshas asked, “What do you want, you all?”

“How many men are in the camp?”

“That’s not a number. Don’t run your smart mouth. Not now especially.” Bala thumped the tree and it shook.

Surprising as it was, Arjan was happy that Bala had returned. For a moment there, he had forgotten who he was and what he was like. He had been different, so uniquely distinguished that Arjan realized how real death encounters really make the strongest person falter. Bala was a great personality, someone who everyone would look at and fear, but here he had been, just crying to himself. Battles do so many things to an individual, one of them being crushing their soul. Though, he was back, perhaps from a sense of duty to save his friends or perhaps Arjan’s words might have just worked.

“Around a-a-a hundred.”

“All right,” Kripa said. “What are the exact points of the camp?”

Kripa began to make a rough sketch with a twig over the little sandy area on the ground. He made a rectangle and inside it, he made circles that represented tents and stars that represented the Rakshas. “Now tell me clearly, mate, who are there and how are they placed?”

“I…I…I will die,” he coughed, “if they find out I revealed it…”

“And what do you think we will do to you if you don’t tell us?” Kripa signalled at the back where dead Rakshas lay.

By the Gods, Arjan couldn’t believe he was in the midst of an adventure he was not ready for. He couldn’t feel anything except dreadful fear and surging adrenaline, in equal measures. Rather, he didn’t want to feel. He was hoping to get out of this entire duel, with his calm rationality and practicality. If they went about the whole scheme of things systematically, then it would not be long until they could roast these outcasts.

“All right, all right.” The Rakshas nodded glumly, as he knelt down and began to explain the entire camp to Kripa. “Your friend could be uh, could be placed here, in the cage where we have kept the mules and the horses. This is our employer’s tent…”

“Yes, that damn woman,” the Rakshas cursed. “Because of her, I’m stuck here.”

“It’s close to the cage, the employer’s tent.” Kripa nodded. “That means heightened security. How many are left behind in the camp?”

“Perhaps twenty, most probably, just to make sure nothing goes wrong.”

Kripa didn’t like the idea. “You can do what you want to with him now, mate.” He tapped Bala’s shoulder.

The Rakshas began to plead again, like the way he was doing earlier, with his palms flat, his mouth contorted into a helpless plea, before Bala used his mace and just hit him hard on the head, knocking him out.

“What should we do?” Arjan stepped forward, addressing the old guru.

“We need to escape.” Kripa looked at Bala and Arjan at the same time, “Get your brother out of here and just leave.”

“What about Shambala?”

Kripa squared in front of Arjan, tightening his clutches over his shoulder. “Shambala is just one part of the world and to save the world, we need to sacrifice a small part of it. See the bigger picture.”

“What do you mean?”

“Your brother is more than who he thinks he is,” Kripa revealed, “And I will explain to you both how important it is for us to save him, more than many people out here. He can’t die because if he does, oh…well…it’ll not just be Shambala that’ll be devoured by the destruction. Entire Illavarti will be up in flames.”

Arjan could understand the gravity of the situation, but he also couldn’t believe his brother was someone who would save the world. He was a simpleton after all.

“All right, lead us on,” Arjan nodded.

Kripa began to enter the forest, followed by the silent Bala and Arjan, when Arjan revealed something going on in his mind. “Hold on, we are going inside the enemy lines and we don’t even know if we will escape. What if we die?”

Studying the scenery, Kripa scratched his head. “Uh well, I haven’t figured that part in this entire rescuing mission.” And he sniggered.