Again a quick recoup:

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 kick ass female warriors then..

It was the quiet of the night that gave them away. Or rather, when the quietness translated into absolute silence, the guards knew something was amiss…and they were not wrong.

The silence exploded into chaos when a ball of fire dropped into the outermost courtyard, exploding, its shrapnel gravely injuring the guards nearby. The sudden light also blinded eyes that had adjusted to darkness, preventing them from seeing the ensuing fireballs.

Shourya was woken up by the noise to see his manservant already readying his armour and sword. Gearing up in no time, he joined his brother as they rushed off to deal with the attackers.

They were more bandits than soldiers, having excellent sword skills but lacking in discipline or proper tactics. It was apparent immediately as the intruders looked a bit indecisive after the initial surprise was over. The two princes as well as the King's royal guards managed to deal with them without too much effort or time.

Which seems odd, Shourya thought.

Still on alert, the head of the King's guard started to approach the fort walls when a shrill but barely heard whistle sounded behind them, resonating through the palace corridors. It was followed by a hollow whispering sound that voiced "Take cover, protect the King". Hearing which, the guards' Head turned around and ordered for everyone to take shelter. The warning came just in time, as more fireballs started raining on the palace, the night lit by the sight of fire floating in air before crashing and spreading its destruction.

"That was Malini; thank Lord Shiva the acoustic system still seems to work. Shourya, go to the King and Janani, and lead them to safety. Now!" Manoj ordered.

The second round of fireballs seemed to be aimed particularly at the main palace, causing concentrated mayhem. Shourya managed to avoid falling pillars and bricks, led to the King's chambers by one of his guards.

And he reached just in nick of time. Another band of intruders had snuck in and were being fought off the guards and the King. As Shourya joined the fight he was pleasantly surprised to see Janani joining them, proving to be an excellent swordswoman. They managed to fend off the attack, but the frail King did not escape uninjured, his arm heavily slashed by a desperate foe. The princess didn't bat an eyelid before getting rid of her angavastram and tying it around the wound and binding the arm to his shoulder.

With their exit cut off, the royals were hurried through a hidden door to an intricate network of tunnels, emerging just outside the palace walls, behind a dense tree cover, to a waiting band of horses. They barely had time to catch their breath and mount the waiting animals before they heard the sounds of approaching hooves. Staying undercover till the requisite signals were exchanged, they were met by Malini and some of her troops. Noticing the dust covered yet exposed princess, she hesitated before reaching up and untying the scarf covering her face.

As she did this, her troops looked away in deference while Shourya berated himself mentally for ignoring his fiancée's modesty. He was trying to get the father-daughter duo to safety after all. But one look at Malini's face made him forget everything, including the conflict around them.

There were scars on her cheeks, not completely healed. A serrated blade seemed to have made them, ensuring a very long and excruciating recovery. These were no battle wounds for sure. But the way the soldiers treated her, Shourya knew he was looking at signs of valour and utmost bravery.

He was again late in responding, one of Malini's horsemen offering her his sash, which she gratefully accepted and tied back around her face.

Sitting up straighter on her horse, she ordered more than half of her company to escort the royals to their next hideout. She then had a private audience with the King and the princess; the information relayed visibly deflating the old monarch.

Shourya's curiosity about this was forgotten when she shook her head, eyes lowered, at his insistence on rejoining the battle. "I had vowed that Jalaark will not shed any more royal blood; I seem to have failed in that." Looking at the King's profusely bleeding arm, she pleaded. "His wound needs to be tended to immediately, they use poisoned blades. The princess also needs to be guarded at all cost. There will be more attacks along the route. My men will provide an escort but they need a leader that I just cannot spare, Your Highness. I need to ensure that this madness finishes here and now, at the same time knowing the King is safe."

Shourya begrudgingly agreed and accompanied the party riding hard towards their safe haven, his eyes lingering back on the scarred warrior.

Malini's predictions turned out to be correct, the journey littered with attacks and their entourage significantly reduced by the time they reached their hideout in the hills. As Janani overlooked the King's treatment Shourya set about arranging and reinforcing the defences, their position still not completely secure.

The battle raged on as darkness was slowly swallowed up by the approaching dawn. Shourya stood on the ramparts looking down at the destruction, his frustration at being away from the field visible on his face. He was soon joined by Janani, the King's health stabilised as the poison in his wounds was treated.

As the sun's first rays fell on the valley below, a loud horn sounded, announcing the end of action and Jalaark's victory, however costly. Janani gasped at the sight in front of her eyes; the palace was almost completely gutted, the grounds burnt away as the final assault had taken place in the surrounding fields. Shourya grabbed a looking glass from a guard and scanned the field for familiar faces. He visibly relaxed when he saw a tired looking but active figure on horseback, scarf in place, accompanied by his brother, who too seemed to have escaped relatively unhurt.

"I can sense from your visible relief that Malini is alive!"

Shourya was taken aback at Janani's words; how had he been so transparent? He tartly responded "My brother is well and unhurt, though I can see that Malini is fine too."

Janani continued calmly, as if he had not spoken. "She is the last surviving member of the house of my father's personal guards; her father and brothers died while protecting the King during previous attacks."

"Previous attacks?"

"Yes, by my father's half-brother. Jalaark is dying," she replied, her face crumpling with sorrow, "we've all known it for years. But my uncle refused to believe it, blaming the King instead and trying to usurp the throne. We hoped he would see sense when his last coup failed and he was banished, but we were wrong."

"With no army to lead, he got in cahoots with bandits. Promised huge rewards, they helped him in setting up those 'monster' attacks. It was during one such attack that Malini almost got captured, getting those scars as she fought her way back…There was nothing left for my uncle to gain; my father had emptied the coffers in helping his subjects settle elsewhere. Malini informed us last night that my uncle was murdered when this fact became clear, and this attack was more of an angry retaliation by the bandits, a revenge for wasted efforts."

Looking over the destruction in front of his eyes, Shourya once again lamented against the stupidity of the human race. He suddenly turned to face Janani, speaking sharply, "The King's wound, Malini said they use poisoned blades. She too was attacked by these same bandits, wasn't she? I saw those scars; they are still raw…haven't healed…because she was poisoned too! …She is dying, isn't she?" He whispered the last words, aghast.

"Yes" Janani replied softly, "delay in getting her wounds treated made the poison stronger. Only draining them daily and treatment with tulsi leaves has prolonged her life, but …we are just counting time."

He tried to process this new information but his brain refused to cooperate. Neither it seemed, did his heart and lungs; one seemed to skip beating altogether while the other refused to take in air. "That's why the scarf," he finally murmured, "to hide the extent of the harm done." Bunching up his hands, it was all he could do not to scream out against the injustice of it all.

But his to-be-bride was very perceptive, noticing the emotions he was trying desperately to hide.

"I have known her all my life; known the girl behind that fierce façade, have always admired her. So… if you…if you too have realised that, have seen the purity behind that crude mask, I cannot begrudge you what you feel, can I?" She stuttered on the last words, before taking a deep breath and continuing, "I'm actually relieved…as only a man with a good heart can see and feel what you do."

Giving the startled prince a small sad smile, Janani went to look after her father.

Shourya then left the father-daughter duo and galloped to the battlefield to address the needs of the survivors who took no pleasure in their victory, knowing that their kingdom lay tattered and in ruins.

Manoj greeted him solemnly outside one of the tents set up to treat the injured, for once his eyes conveying his emotions as he firmly placed his hand on his younger brother's shoulder and sighed, "I'm sorry Shourya."

She lay inside with her eyes shut, surrounded by doctors tending to her wounds. The fight had further weakened her, lending a greyish tinge to her face. As the doctors finished applying the medicine to her scars, she opened her eyes, her pained but surprised gaze falling on a grimacing prince. Misunderstanding the reason for his frown, she went to cover her scars when Shourya moved and held on to the gauze, looking deep into those brown eyes and saying softly, "You don't have to hide your face, Malini. It's a pure sight."

Their eyes remained locked for a moment before she lowered her gaze and with a sigh, closed her eyes.

The wedding ceremony took place couple of days later, in the small yet miraculously untouched temple in the palace grounds. The handful of people who attended along with a frail yet recovering King, blessed the new couple with happier days ahead, the occasion bringing a rare smile to solemn faces.

The King was to retire to his Guru's Ashram the very next day, as Jalaark's monarchy ended.

As he left the fort with his new bride and brother alongside, Shourya was numb. There was no relief, no joy, no sadness. Just numbness that permeated his each and every cell. Their whole entourage had a slight melancholic air, knowing an era was ending. After going some distance up a hill, the party stopped to give Janani a moment, turning away to give her privacy as she gazed out her palanquin at her former home. It also gave Shourya a last chance to look for a face he knew he would never see again.

Till he saw her, somehow up on her horse, riding slowly next to her King. And he knew that was how he would always remember her.

They rode for ten days, finally reaching the safety and comfort of his kingdom. They were welcomed with joyous celebrations, the path to their palace lined on both sides by crowds cheering and showering the procession with rose petals, and blessings. The entire atmosphere was festive, as against the sombre air they had left behind.

Shourya soon received the news of the King's safe passage and arrival at the ashram, news that brought tears of joy and relief to his bride. But the numbness around his heart refused to leave. He carried on performing his duties, behaving perfectly like a new, caring husband.

Till one evening when he was taking a stroll around the palace gardens, trying to dismiss a feeling of unease following him since that morning. The clouds were gathering overhead as the first showers of monsoon seemed on schedule. As he neared the tulsi garden, a sudden feeling of melancholy took over. Finding breathing difficult, he sat down on a bench, the feeling of numbness being replaced by pain. A pain so deep that it felt like he was being ripped apart from within. He held his head in his hands, tears escaping his eyes as he felt as if his soul was withering. He felt sorrow like never before, all joy a distant vague possibility. He knew in his heart what was happening, something that he thought he had been prepared for. As his heart beat faster, he could sense another one slow down…the beats slowing…slowly…till there were none.

Empty. That's what he felt then. Empty of every emotion. Like a hollow shell, strong from outside but easily crushed by the storm now brewing inside and around him. As his tears stopped flowing, he raised his head, looking at the last sunset of what had been a special summer. The surroundings seemed to glow with a special aura, the diffused light lending an unreal feel. Then the glow around the setting sun seemed to expand slowly till it engulfed him in its warmth. Slowly, the numbness that had accompanied him from Jalaark was replaced by a feeling of peace. In that instant, he knew that her passing had been quick, that she had felt relief in her final moments.

And that she knew what he actually felt, that his aloof air had been but a mask. It was that final realisation that finally allowed him to freely breathe in the rain tinged air. He found solace in the knowledge that she knew she was loved, and that she wouldn't be forgotten when she finally passed to proudly join her forefathers. The falling raindrops mixed with his tears of relief, content that she had known peace as she breathed her last.

Turning towards his quarters, he saw Janani approach him with worried eyes. Offering her his hand along with his first genuine smile, he simply said, "Welcome home."

As the newlyweds stepped into the warm showers, it was all the sign he needed to know to let go of things that were just not meant to be, not in this lifetime. The old season was over and it was time to embrace the new one with open arms and an open heart, as the thundering clouds above seemed to agree.

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As another loud crash sounded, he was startled enough to roll out of his bed and onto the floor below. He had forgotten to shut the window, the rain now falling heavily and almost soaking the floor. He rushed to close the shutters and then looked around his room, feeling utterly disoriented.

He had dreamt again, had woken up feeling equal parts desolate and hopeful. He tried to recollect what he had seen, but the thoughts were just beyond his reach and getting farther, like mist that was slowly evaporating.

This wasn't the first time it had happened, but it seemed more comprehensive, though he couldn't understand why he concluded that, as he couldn't remember anything anyway. Trying to get back to sleep seemed useless now so he got up and started working on the new designs. It had enough motifs to satisfy the church, to ensure that the hordes of fanatic religious marauders would stay away. After all, an artist had to earn his keep, even in this quasi new form of government the Emperor called democracy. He smirked, shaking his head, knowing that merely changing the name didn't change the rules.

Rome was just as bad as it had always been.

angavastram : A shawl draped on both shoulders, covering the bodice

tulsi: Indian basil, said to have many medicinal values

Guru: spiritual teacher

Ashram: a hermitage, monastic community