The Princes of Ayodhya-The Ramayan Through Short Stories

Halfway Finish

Upon this new threat, the flying Angad they called it, he demon-like horses of Narantak's, (not quite as demon-like as Meghnad's, but hey, close enough, demon horses were demon horses, no discrimination) reared up, waving their front legs in the air as the hind legs stayed flat on the ground, and Narantak desperately grabbed at the reins, pulling them back and trying to get the horses steady so the chariot wouldn't break into two halves or be ground into the Earth like crushed skulls and bones were already.

Narantak just focused on the horses and steadying them, never a good thing to do in war when there were people out for your head. In this case, namely, it was Angad, prince of Kishkindha, who still flew in the air but now was being pulled down by gravity and landed right on the roof of Narantak's chariot. The heavy thud made him look up, but at that time, the clouds overhead also rumbled threateningly, so he just bit his lip, thinking it a clash of thunder in the distance.

Well, Angad was a monkey, not a natural phenomenon, and monkeys liked killing, much like some natural phenomenons, and so he jumped off of the roof and into the bottom of the chariot, where Narantak stood, still unleashing his arrows once the spooked horses started galloping again. Narantak paused his assault upon the vanar army, his eyes widening as Angad, with one great blw hit the back of his head so Narantak leaned over the edge of the chariot,

But the son of Dhanyamalini (maybe, or it could be one of the concubines), was not so quick to be killed. Just as Angad stepped back for a final blow, Narantak stood up, rolling his muscles, and whirled around just as Angad threw his fist. Dodging, going right under the rock like hand of Angad's, he wrapped his arms around the monkey's waist (no worries guys, PG-13, one of you messaged me saying you were worrying it would soon be R), and slammed him into the carriage walls, Geeta Phogat style.

Angad rubbed his head, woozy for a moment as Narantak stepped back, ready to hammer into his stomach like a bull. Too quick for the rakshas prince, Angad ran out of the way just as Narantak hit the wall, and now it was Ravan's son's turn to touch his temple, wincing as Angad once again readied to attack, grabbing his mace from where it had fallen on the chariot floors and was now rolling around on the smooth ground uselessly.

But this time, Narantak was ready, and he wrenched the mace out of Angad's hands and threw it on the ground (it rolled uselessly again, because maces love being useless). Then, they began to wrestle, hitting each other with unfair blows and pushing them to the ground. As Angad pushed back on Narantak's shoulders after a particularly strong offense, the demon prince found his chance.

He punched the Yuvraj's stomach, hard. Angad went sweeping onto the large floor of the chariot, unable to even roll over, clutching his tummy. Wiping away the sweat from his mustache, Narantak grasped at the dagger stored, hidden (Lakshman-style) in the folds of his dhoti. Eyes narrowed, with one great swing, the rakshas prince prepared to kill his admittedly skilled enemy.

Just as the sharp tool neared Angad's stomach, just as it looked like it was all over for the valiant warrior, Angad scooted out of the way, and the dagger clattered to the ground. "Huh?' Narantak wondered out loud as he looked up from the bloodless floor. "Where did that good-for-nothing idiot go?"

The good-for-nothing idiot was standing behind him, and with a great stone he had uprooted from the floor (where it had conveniently lay for days) and smashed it onto Narantak's head. Blood, guts, and grey matter splattered all over the carriage, and Angad quickly jumped off before his clothes were soiled again and he had to visit Jal to clean them. Rubbing his eyes, he paused for a moment, before grabbing his mace and running off into the distance, his shadow fading into the rising dust.

-----O-----

Though one of the six were already dead, and only five remained, only five versus all the mighty generals of the vanar sena, those five were mighty. They killed, so easily, any and all of the monkeys who ventured even ten feet close to them. They were like machines, machines with nothing but bloodthirst embedded into their code, fastened in their brains, and they were like weapons of destruction, they were like men with no hearts.