Aradhya ||Indian historical fiction||

32| MIND AND SWORDS

The armies of two of the most powerful kingdoms took a stand against each other. The crimson army of Ashokdhar against the brown and yellow of Dharini and Shiladhika respectively. There was no stronger party. Both were equally equipped. The army was Ashokdhar was prominent but against the combined forces of both the kingdoms, there was no upper hand nor was there leverage. 

Or so Vihaan thought. He climbed up his horse with his sharpened sword. His mind was neither of the battles nor was it of Aradhya. It was disputed between the two and he knew it would be riskier to play with feelings when war was at his doorstep and yet he could do only so much as to affirm himself that he should win this. He wanted to be victorious because Aradhya had done too much to his kingdom. If he even let his kingdom down now it would be nothing but ignorance.

He strode to the centre of his army with Rihit and Darsh following after him. The three took the frontline of the army while looking over the dual-coloured army before them. Rihit turned to the army which was armoured and weaponized and rose his sword as a plight. The army raised their swords back with the synchronized shouts.

On the other side of the battlefield, however, it was nothing but pure evil. Amar grimaced as he looked across to see Vihaan's army. He looked over at his own army visually comparing it to what he saw. Aagneya and Abhik stood ready with their swords. 

"At last, Maharaj Aagneya... You do not know how much I have craved for this moment for the last eighteen years." Amar breathed in the tense air of the war. Aagneya did nothing but stay quiet and just look upon what was to come. He was old now. There was only so much he could do to support the army but he never gave up on trying to defend his daughter. 

Abhik contemplated his choices. Was he right? Was he right in supporting someone who won't be grateful to him or his father after he sits on the throne? Nevertheless, Abhik was hell-bent on winning this battle. 

"How is your sister, Abhik? Has she been taken care of?" Amar sarcastically spoke while Abhik just nodded. He sighed and met Amar's gaze with a challenge.

"Why did you need her anyway?" 

"I thought this battle would be completed only with a grand sacrifice."

.   .   .   .

Aradhya awoke in a dingy room. It had a sickening smell. By the looks of it, the room was not used in decades. Nature had taken over it entirely. Aradhya rubbed her eyes with her tied up hands and somehow managed to stand on her feet which were bound by thick ropes. She stumbled and hopped until she threw open the room door and came across a really old figure sitting by a fire and cooking up porridge. 

The woman turned around and Aradhya's mind wasn't able to comprehend a single thing. She fell back and sat on the muddy floor of the woods as the old woman hurried on over to her. 

"Bhairavi Ma...?" 

She smiled and loosened the ropes that bound Aradhya. She chuckled softly. 

"You didn't expect me to be alive? I never thought so too. But I have to say I have taught you well. The ropes could not hold you in. Have something. You haven't eaten in sixteen hours."

"Why are you doing this? Why are you working with that moron?" Aradhya moved away from her mother who let out a sigh of disappointment. 

"Is this about me attacking you? When was it?...seventeen years or so ago?"

"It is about everything."

"To begin with, sorry dear. Amar took me, hostage, the day you and Vihaan were wed. He threatened me. Well, initially I was scared for my life but after he went on about why he took me in...I worried about nothing but you."