Vedic Warriors Read online

  “Who captured him? He is not an easy man to subdue!” asked Apykarych.

  “I have my ways Apykarych! I always know what to do, how to do and when to do - with force, without force.” Replied Shreshtaha.

  “I would like to visit him once! It’s been long since I last met him!” commented Apykarych sarcastically.

  “You will, when the time is right! In the meantime, put aside your anger. We need both of them. The apprentice will get us the armour, while his master will act as leverage.” Suggested Shreshtaha.

  “I understand! I forgive that young man for the time being, but the moment we have the armour, I want both, my old fiend and his apprentice.” Stated Apykarych assertively.

  “Don’t worry! You will have your revenge in time.” Promised Shreshtaha.

  The two wily old foxes continued their discussion for some more time, after which Shreshtaha went to his palace.

  Apykarych rode towards the centre of the city along with Nirmay. This place had the maximum number of bordellos and taverns. The old man was initially hesitant to go out in public as he felt humiliated at his loss, but relaxed when Nirmay elucidated.

  “You are the father of weaponry and have won more than five hundred cities for Taraksh. People respect you, so don’t get demoralized by one defeat. Don’t forget that you were asked to reign in your true potential as it was a no blood match. Come and enjoy the celebrations. I have heard that Pahaam has got some beautiful virgins and the oldest wine. Forget what happened today. The people know you well and will not disrespect you for one loss.”

  Apykarych was a materialistic and a pleasure-seeking man. He was quick to forget and went ahead with Nirmay to indulge in libertine activities.

  The old man had a huge appetite for young beautiful women. He chose three virgins and went inside a private room, built for royalty in the tavern. The women were much too young, compared to the old man. They looked petrified, but Apykarych had no patience for such emotions. He loved exerting power and dominating people; he felt energized and lively in doing so.

  He pulled one of the three girls and ripped her clothes apart. The girl resisted but the old man forced himself on her. The other two met with a similar fate.

  As the night progressed, Apykarych felt powerful again; dominating young beautiful girls and gulping down fine wine.

  (II)

  Day two of the tournament commenced, replete with brutal and bloody matches. The third match introduced a javelin thrower, Kakshena; a young, muscular and tall warrior. His specialty was that he had the most accurate aim in the realm and the force of his throw was unbeatable.

  His challenge was to target seven dummies from the corner of the arena. The dummies were heavily shielded and covered with three layers of steel.

  Kakshena was prepared.

  He threw the first javelin; the aim was accurate and the Javelin pierced the shields of the first dummy. Then he threw the second and third one and they bore the same results as the first one.

  He was ready for his fourth shot; he had his Javelin gripped in his palms, raised up on his shoulders. He then pulled his arm back and threw the Javelin, only this time; it was not directed at the dummy but was meant for the Emperor - Taraksh.

  Like lightening, the Javelin flew towards Taraksh.

  But Taraksh, ever alert as he was, had sharp reflexes. He caught the Javelin in his bare hands.

  Kakshena was an assassin sent by the twin brothers of the coalition. No one had ever stopped a javelin thrown by him; Taraksh was the first and last to do so.

  Taraksh twirled the javelin and threw it back towards Kakshena with full force. The Javelin penetrated through Kakshena’s throwing arm, pinning him to the ground. This was done intentionally by Taraksh as he wanted him alive in order to interrogate him. Kakshena was taken away to the dungeon and the contest proceeded further.

  The next contestant was called - Nismibh, the man who claimed to be the strongest fighter in the world.

  Nismibh was not very tall but he was powerfully built. He wore shorts and a thick leather coated armour on his shins to protect his exposed legs. His shoes were different; they were like slippers, which were effectively fastened to the feet. He wore nothing on top, exposing the tattoo of an elephant on his back. He carried a huge mace, a Gada and walked like an elephant.

  As he walked towards the centre, the crowd cheered in excitement; he was one of the favourites. There were rumours that he was even stronger than Taraksh. Upon reaching the centre of the arena, Nismibh relaxed his shoulders keeping the mace upside down on the ground. He then bowed to the King.

  Taraksh raised his right hand, acknowledging Nismibh. With this, the presenter took charge and introduced Nismibh to the crowd.

  “HERE COMES NISMIBH! THE MAN BELONGS TO THE STATE OF MASARUT, CONSIDERED TO BE ONE OF THE STRONGEST IN THE WORLD. TRAINED AND COACHED BY THE CELEBRATED SAINT YUNIOP, PEOPLE SAY THAT HE CAN CRUSH ROCK BOULDERS WITH HIS BARE HANDS AND LIFT ELEPHANTS ON HIS SHOULDERS. BUT CAN HE IMPRESS US? AS HIS OPPONENTS ARE…….”

  As the announcement concluded, the seventy feet tall gate opened and from inside appeared five massive elephants steered by Mahouts. They were not ordinary elephants but were wilder and much bigger than the ones normally tamed.

  The elephants were soon aligned parallel to Nismibh. It was clear that this duel was to be between five huge elephants and one man.

  Nismibh was not at all intimidated. In fact, he appeared to be quite tranquil. The strong man placed his mace on the ground as he didn’t wish to kill the elephants and calmly waited for the signal for the fight to commence. The moment it was raised, the elephants charged at Nismibh. On the other hand, the strong man started jogging towards the incoming mammoth beasts.

  The spectators sat riveted, as they witnessed this epic encounter.

  The moment the elephants came close to the strong man, Nismibh slithered between two elephants and rammed one with his left shoulder. The push carried so much power that the elephant actually fell on to another elephant resulting in a domino effect. The two mahouts were hurt and were retired out of the contest.

  However, the three remaining elephants were still in the match. They were realigned into position and were again made to charge at the strong man.

  This time, Nismibh didn’t move. He stayed his ground and stopped the charge of one of the elephants with his bare hands. The spectators were astonished to see such a display of strength.

  The elephant tried to lift Nismibh using its trunk, but the strong man held it and pulled the elephant down to the ground. He then struck the forehead of his massive opponent causing it to wince in pain. He then dismounted the mahout and punched him into unconsciousness.

  Without their mahouts, the three elephants sensed danger and trusting their instincts started running towards the gate. But since the gates were closed, the elephants panicked and started blaring and thumping the gate. This terror was sensed and felt palpably by the other elephants as well and prompted them to retreat towards the gates, ignoring their mahouts’ instructions. The guards fearing of getting trampled refused to open the gate and kept it closed.

  Nismibh was fond of the large beasts and pitied them. As they panicked, he jogged towards the elephants and pulled the one he had hit on the forehead down.

  The elephant tried to resist, but to no avail. Once down, he climbed over the beast and pressed the elephant’s forehead slowly, calming him down. The moment the elephant was calm, the other elephants followed suite, and were escorted out of the arena.

  Nismibh remained standing in the arena, like a hero.

  The spectators cheered, jubilant at his display of strength. One of the guards approached Nismibh and asked him to face the emperor’s throne.

  Taraksh was impressed by the young man’s strength. He stood up on his feet and said.

  “Your strength is amazing! I am pleased to see such display of strength. But I have heard a few people say that your strength surpasses that of mine and I have my doubts on that.�
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  “I can’t comment on that, Almighty King! As you are the emperor of the world, and I, just an ordinary warrior.” Replied Nismibh.

  “A calculated answer! But I would really like to test my strength against yours. Be ready boy, for I challenge you right now!” said Taraksh, with a smirk on his face.

  “How can I decline your command? I accept!” replied Nismibh.

  As Taraksh turned towards the stairs to walk inside the arena, Shreshtaha approached the King, and asked.

  “What are you doing, almighty? We need him for the expedition.”

  “Don’t worry! He will survive.” Replied Taraksh, as he walked down the stairs towards the arena. The announcer heralded his appearance.

  “Dear people! Entering through the gates; is the STRONGEST, MOST POWERFUL, MOST SKILLFUL, MOST ELEGANT, MOST FEARLESS, MASTER OF THIS UNIVERSE, THE GOD HIMSELF, THE MIGHTY EMPEROR OF THE WORLD - TARAKSH!!! And he will be facing Nismibh, one of the strongest warriors in the world whose strength we have just witnessed.”

  The crowd went berserk with excitement. After all, it was not every day that the emperor of Mahaverna entered the arena. It was a historical moment.

  Taraksh sauntered into the arena with a huge mace in his right hand, looking fierce and dangerous. As he approached the young warrior, Nismibh picked up his mace and walked tentatively towards Taraksh. Once in position, the two warriors began moving around in a circle. Both were waiting for the right opportunity to strike.

  Nismibh was the first to strike; he swung his mace at Taraksh. The emperor blocked it with such force that Nismibh felt shivers through his body and dropped his mace to the ground. Nismibh was left defenceless.

  Taraksh, wanting to further humiliate Nismibh, dropped his mace as well and challenged Nismibh for a hand-to-hand combat.

  Nismibh pounced on Taraksh but the King caught him and threw him a few feet away. Nismibh felt disgraced, so he furiously and absentmindedly charged at Taraksh again.

  But Taraksh was prepared yet again. He flung Nismibh up in the air and slammed him down with so much force, that he fell three feet away.

  Nismibh, by now had realized that brute strength was certainly not the way to win against Taraksh. Therefore, he went on the defensive; thinking of using his brain, rather than brawn.

  Nismibh resisted attacking. He started moving in a circle, squatting slightly like a wrestler. As Nismibh started fighting defensive, Taraksh became aggressive; and using a wrestling manoeuvre lifted Nismibh on his shoulders. Nismibh, in turn, anticipated this move and quickly slithered off of Taraksh’s back and locked the King in a headlock using his left hand. But the King knew how to get out of this grappling lock.

  He flipped his body backwards in such a manner that he ended up getting behind Nismibh and the strong man’s neck came in to his clutches now. The King then slammed Nismibh down and instantly stood back on his feet; inviting the elephant tamer to charge again.

  Nismibh stood up on his feet but remained on the defensive. Taraksh waited for a few seconds and then attacked again, but this time Nismibh grabbed the King by the head and slammed his head down.

  Taraksh felt pain upon impact but recovered quickly. He rose to his feet again and grabbed Nismibh by the waist; slamming him down with force.

  Nismibh was wounded and dazed. He had just witnessed the raw power of Taraksh, the strongest man in the world.

  Taraksh wasted no time; he raised his hand as if to punch Nismibh in the face but gave him his hand instead. Nismibh grabbed his hand and Taraksh lifted him up to his feet and congratulated him.

  “I am impressed! You are strong Nismibh, really strong.”

  The King’s hegemony was re-established and reaffirmed.

  After this exciting match, many other matches were fought. Another day ended leaving people with lingering awe. The crowd felt excited and discussed the duels even during the night. The fight between Taraksh and Nismibh was discussed and dissected for hours; they were simply amazed to witness such feats of strength.

  As people celebrated the festivities in the city, in the royal palace of Mahaverna, the emperor was relaxing in his harem; spending time with his favourite concubine, the erstwhile princess, ‘Ruahmah’.

  Ruahmah was the youngest daughter of a powerful King named ‘Sanacta’. The King once boasted of a vicious army and was a rival of Taraksh. But, his army was easily uprooted by the military might of Taraksh. Sanacta was brutally killed and his subjects were wiped out at the orders of Taraksh.

  Ruahmah was known for her exquisite looks, she was extremely beautiful and intelligent. Many said that Taraksh sacked the whole city so as to possess Ruahmah. She was highly educated and Taraksh loved discussing the secrets of the universe with her.

  Initially, Ruahmah abhorred the King but with the passage of time she reconciled, accepting her current status quo as her destiny.

  Taraksh, on the other hand, was extremely fond of her since the beginning. This was unlike his characteristic as Taraksh treated women most shabbily, yet in front of Ruahmah he became a different man. He took care of her and respected her. Ruahmah was also expecting a child from Taraksh.

  Taraksh was physically hurt in the day’s duel. This had once again, triggered doubts regarding his immortality in his mind. The King nursed his fears in silence. The fight with Nismibh had left him in excruciating pain. The King had maintained an enduring stoic persona in public; but in the recesses of his mind, he was in eternal turmoil.

  Taraksh looked into Ruahmah’s eyes as she applied ointment on his forehead. He adored the care she displayed for him.

  “I feel sorry for you Ruahmah! I ordered the execution of your family. If I had met you earlier, I would have spared their lives. But I am an emperor, a warrior, and I am required to be ruthless.” Taraksh whispered slowly.

  “I really appreciate you Ruahmah! Even after what I have done to you, you still care about me.”

  Ruahmah kept quiet. There was an eerie silence, which enveloped them.

  The emperor again closed his eyes briefly and then looked back at Ruahmah. But this time instead of admiration and love, he had a bizarre frenzy in his eyes.

  “Or maybe, you just act as if you care about me. But secretly, you desire to kill me; like so many others in this empire that I created. Yes! You are like the others; a conniving ignorant slave, who thinks she is superior to the almighty. I know you wish to cut my throat. Fool! Do you really think that you can kill me, the Son of Indra? I’ll have you executed!”

  The moment Taraksh displayed this split; Ruahmah stretched her hands close to the emperor’s ears and clapped thrice. Taraksh’s dilated eyes slowly relaxed and he came back to his senses.

  The emperor often displayed this split; where his faculties seemed possessed by another, an alter ego. Ruahmah was the only one who knew how to ease and control the ruthless emperor – Taraksh.

  The emperor, back to his normal self; immediately pulled Ruahmah close to him and kissed her passionately. The slave princess responded back, and the two immersed in each other enjoying a sensual consummation.

  The next day was interspersed with wonderful events; replete with chariot races, and javelin throwing competitions. The day progressed with no blood matches but the clean duels were to dissipate into oblivion, as the presenter announced the name of one of the most feared men in Mahaverna - Agastya.

  Agastya was the most disliked man in Mahaverna. He was unusually strict in enforcing rules and regulations. He was feared by all and was known for his cruel punishments to lawbreakers. Agastya was young, in his early twenties and had a tall and lean body. He looked docile, but his cocky manner of speaking and irreverent walk only inspired dislike.

  On the day of the tournament, he looked impressive, dressed in black and silver armour. He tightly gripped two silver axes in each of his hands and as he walked he kept criss- crossing them over each other.

  He was anxious to face his opponents and was getting impatient due to the delay. His opponents were three archer
s, who walked in as the announcer introduced them.

  The archers belonged to the Melawat region of the empire which was known for producing great archers. This region also produced the maximum number of bows and arrows, since the wood of this region was considered to be the finest. It was light, flexible and yet extremely strong. This region was captured by Taraksh long ago and the soldiers of the region served as auxiliary troops for the empire. The objective of this bout was for Agastya to deflect the rain of arrows shot at him by the three archers using his axes. This was supposed to be a no blood contest.

  The three archers took position, surrounding Agastya on three sides. They aimed their arrows at Agastya and the moment the siren was blown, the archers started firing arrows one after another.

  The arrows flew through the air sailing towards their intended target. Agastya, ever alert, started swinging both the axes together; like a shredder, he sliced all the arrows hurled at him into two.

  This continued for some time. The archers kept on shooting arrows and Agastya kept on slivering them. This competition ended when the archers exhausted all the projectiles from their stockpile. Agastya stood up, unscathed, as if this bout was mere child’s play.

  He tilted his head a little and taunted.

  “Is that all?”

  He lifted his hands and questioned the spectators.

  “Did you enjoy yourselves? Was that fun? No! That was no fun!”

  The moment he said this, in a flash, he turned and threw his axes towards the archers at each end.

  This catastrophic attack happened in a fraction of a second. Even as the archer in the middle realized what had just transpired; Agastya took out a spare dagger, and threw it at him, killing him too.

  After slaying all the three warriors, he turned to face Taraksh, and laughed.

  “Now that was fun!”

  This horrific turn of events only made Taraksh smile, as the emperor saw in the impulsive warrior a reflection of his younger self.

  This duel was followed by another thrilling bout, as it introduced the world’s best swordsman – the mighty Atikaya Oniata.

  A surprisingly big man; seven feet tall and just as broadly built. He carried the world’s heaviest sword and walked in to the arena to face his seventy sixth opponent - Carcus.