For MaybeItsJustMyType. So this will be a multi-chapter fic, with AU scenarios. Giving this format a try. Its all about Sherlock and Molly. Always, always...
This chapter is set in the Indian Subcontinent, somewhere around 320BC.
Characters are
Malini (name of a Goddess of power and strength) - Molly Hooper
Prince Shourya (which means brave) – Sherlock
Prince Manoj (means someone born with a great mind) - Mycroft
Princess Janani - Janine
And yes, there were female warriors then.
The riders were galloping towards the main gates, their staff flying high. The swirling sand was following them. It was going to be a close contest for the Prince to reach the fortress borders before his team got swallowed by the billowing dust and what evil lay within.
"Shall we open the gates now?" a soldier nervously asked her.
"No," Malini intoned calmly, showing no trace of the nerves she felt. "Let the Prince cross the outer line and only then open the gates. I do not want any of that cursed dust to enter the fort."
As if sensing this, the retreating party formed a narrow group, the horses now galloping in threes. As the Prince's steed passed the first line of stone structures, gears of the massive gates were set in motion.
The porous stones of the outer line had been soaked overnight, resulting in them being dry but cold by the time the Prince returned. These cold pores sucked in the hot sand that was closest to the retreating party, for a split second showcasing the horrors hiding behind.
At Malini's command, man and beast turned the lifting mechanism, with similar such porous wall rising from the ground, swallowing more and more of the hot sand.
As the last of the party rode inside, the fortress gates slammed shut. The same time, Malini gave her orders, resulting in her archers raining down poison tipped, fire tipped and such arrows on the attackers.
Their dust cover pulled away, the attackers were revealed to be human, with intricately placed fans blowing up sand from cleverly placed wagons. The monsters were nothing but wooden cut-outs, providing the perfect cover.
As their structures burnt and men fell, Malini gave orders for a horn to be sounded, which raised the cover over dug-outs near the outer wall hiding another platoon of soldiers, adding fortification from the rear end. Their escape route cut off, the intruders started fighting desperately. Observing from her post, she saw few of the enemy soldiers moving surreptitiously towards the young Officer leading the rear charge. Finding no way or time to signal the danger, Malini cut one end of the rope secured to the turrets, and swung down the high wall. Shoving a dead rider off its horse and mounting the excited animal, she galloped towards the outer lines.
She reached just in time to engage the enemy soldiers and save the young Officer. This encouraged the platoon to fight harder, slaying enemy soldiers and capturing their leader. But before he could be secured, he swallowed a vial of poison hanging on his neck and the platoon could return only with a soldier frothing at the mouth, dying a painful death, his secrets safe.
And with him died what could have been a source of information on the recurring attacks on the kingdom of Jalaark.
The King of Jalaark presented an old, tired but determined picture. But his brave face could not hide the worry in those wise eyes.
"This kingdom is doomed, dear Princes. The sand is encroaching from the west, the raging river waters from the east. The mountains to the north are caving in or throwing whatever they can at us with all their might. The south seemed like the only solace for my people, but that hope too fades daily. Attacks from these marauders were earlier limited to the borders. As you saw, they are now emboldened enough to attack right at the heart, like buzzards circling a dying prey. We were saved today because of your ingenuity and bravery, but what about tomorrow?"
He sighed deeply and smiled at Shourya.
"Now you can understand my insistence on advancing the wedding date Prince Shourya. Once my Janani is safely sent away with you, I can focus on this new nightmare."
Shourya was about to argue when his older brother, Prince Manoj spoke up.
"We are aware of the troubles you face, oh good King. My father hasn't recovered enough from his malady to travel, but he has given me strict instructions to return only if his new daughter-in-law accompanies us. You can start the wedding preparations; I will provide any assistance I can."
The old king rose from his throne and walked up to Prince Manoj, clasping both his hands in his old ones.
"You have lifted a huge burden off my shoulders, dear Prince. Five days from today, we will have the wedding ceremony."
As he was congratulated, Prince Shourya presented the pleasant, smiling face that he was expected to, hiding the turmoil within. He had been mentally prepared to wed Princess Janani before he even arrived here, his brother having assured him of her beauty and intelligence. But ever since he had fought along with a warrior, whose face was covered except for her eyes, he had felt unsettled.
He had first met Malini just before dawn, when she had been busy sharing details with his brother of a previous attack by these 'sand monsters' that had left several casualties in its wake. The very fact that Manoj was discussing tactics and accepting her suggestions gave credence to her knowledge of warfare.
She had averted her eyes, her face lowered while addressing him, in the tradition of unmarried women addressing the prospective spouse of their royal heirs. But her words were confident, well thought out and succinct. He had felt some weird pride at that moment, also for some reason wishing she would look at him once.
His wish was granted just before he rode off early as per their plan, when Malini inadvertently glanced at him while surveying the small party he was leading. In that split second, her eyes had widened slightly before she looked away in deference. His mother's side of the family had come to the Indian subcontinent from beyond the Hindu Kush Mountains, blue and green eyes pretty common among her people. But the ever changing blue-green-grey colour of his eyes was uncommon even by their standards, garnering attention that was a constant source of irritation for him… except at that moment. He had been pleased at her reaction, a small smile on his face as he rode away.
All such thoughts were banished instantly to the back of his mind as he concentrated on the task at hand; to encounter the approaching attack and provide some much needed diversion and time. Upon re-entering the relative safety of the fort walls, he had rushed to the ramparts to support his host's soldiers, when he had seen a lithe figure swing off the walls and rush to the aid of a young soldier. He refused to think about why his heart almost stopped at her act, or the relief that immediately translated into anger when he saw her return unharmed. He had pointedly ignored the look his brother gave him at that moment, his raised eyebrow conveying that Manoj had not missed any of the action on either side of the fort walls.
"This is a dying country, Shourya; I'm sure you've noticed that. Hardly any birds fly these skies…the wind also blows mournfully."
"Never guessed you to be a poet, dear brother," Shourya commented dryly.
"When the end is near, it's easier to find solace in words, reality being too harsh. After all, not all poetry is about happy instances." Manoj turned away from the window looking over the palace grounds, his face solemn. "The next five days are critical; I have feeling there will be attempts on the King's and Janani's life. I don't think either of us is in any danger, but it pays to be alert."
"Do you know who is behind these attacks?"
"Hmm...They seem more out of retaliation, revenge of sorts; why else flog a dying horse, other than to make its death more painful?" Manoj replied. "These are old debts…our involvement is too late to be of any real help. There is no version of this where Jalaark comes out victorious. And they all know it…can sense it." Giving his brother time to take it all in, Manoj made to leave. He was almost by door when he added quietly. "Do not involve yourself any more than necessary, Shourya. Some investments only lead to pain."
Shourya turned to look out the window again, trying not to mull too much over his brother's parting words. There were admittedly more soldiers on guard, the air heavy with anticipation of impending attacks. They were all waiting for the hammer to fall, all at their most alert. But their bravado was tinged with a shadow of resignation, a feeling he could not relate with the people who had fought alongside him so fiercely. He sighed and decided to retire for the night, the day's activities finally catching up with him and the excess adrenaline finally leaving his system.
When he woke up the next morning, after a restless sleep, it was to find an air of excitement in the palace.
"You are getting formally engaged today, as you very well know, and the King has spared no expense. Get ready to be pampered and fretted upon, you are after all the feted son-in-law," Manoj teased, amused at the look of horror on Shourya's face.
The day's activities proceeded at what seemed to him, a slow and painful pace. He took the special scented bath, attended the puja, visited the local deity and then finally arrived at the main palace hall that had been transformed overnight. The massive pillars were decorated with silk, there were garlands of scented flowers and rose petals were strewn around. The mandap on which the consecrated fire burned was decorated by marigold garlands. The whole set up was festive yet understated; something he thanked Lord Shiva for.
He saw his prospective bride for the first time when she arrived with her father and senior members of the royal family, her face partially covered by a veil. He snuck a look when they were seated around the Homa, when her veil was lifted. She had twinkling eyes, which were shy yet shone with a tinge of mischief. Which reminded him of another pair of eyes, which were conspicuous by their absence.
As if sensing the direction his thoughts were taking, Prince Manoj initiated the formal introduction between his brother and Princess Janani, starting the engagement ceremony. Even as the garlands were exchanged, conches blown in celebration and flower petals were thrown on the couple, a restless feeling continued to plague Shourya. He put on a brave and smiling face, but finally excused himself from the gathering.
"It's ok, dear Prince. After my engagement, I had disappeared on a weeklong hunting trip. It's much easier to come to terms with your new responsibilities when away from your normal surroundings," the old king had empathised, a knowing smile on his face.
Shourya nodded his head sharply and left, taking off the heavy garland around his neck and handing it over to his manservant. His feet led him towards a courtyard in the corner of the palace, where he had seen officers practicing their swordplay, hoping to find it empty so he could swing a few rounds. Approaching the place, he was about to command his orderly to take up a sword when the words died on his tongue.
The courtyard was occupied, but this time it was a feminine figure who was trying out what looked to be a newly designed weapon. It was slightly longer than a sword, but the blade was thinner, lending it a swaying action that needed precision to handle. Malini handled the weapon with grace, swinging it over her head and around her body, performing a deadly dance that ended up cutting the swords of her duel partners in half. Then, with a snap of her wrist, the blade straightened and she gazed upon it with admiration, before laying it on the platter a maid held. She looked pleased…almost happy with the results, her eyes glowing even though her smile was hidden by her scarf.
It was one of the soldiers who noticed him first and curtsied, others following suit. Malini turned around to see who the visitor was, her eyes still shining as they landed on him. Her smile turned to a frown, she looked confused to see him there when he was supposed to be in the palace hall. She belatedly remembered to lower her gaze and curtsy, missing the range of emotions on the Prince's face as she politely greeted him.
All this happened in less than a moment, but Shourya felt like time had stretched itself. Finding it difficult to breathe, he blinked rapidly, feeling out of sorts. Even as she greeted him in the proper, formal way, he was walking away. He had finally understood the seriousness of his brother's warning to stay aloof, acknowledging now that it was all futile.
He had inadvertently lost a battle, his heart a lost cause.
Hindu Kush – current Afghanistan
Puja – Hindu rituals for prayer
Mandap – Raised platform, like a dias.
Homa – ritual, where offerings are made into the holy fire