The Aryavarta Chronicles Kurukshetra: Book 3 by Krishna Udayasankar Read Free Book Online Page B

what might have occurred set in, he reached for his sword, only to stop short as a voice called out, ‘Don’t move! Or he dies.’
    A mercenary emerged from the cover of tree trunks holding Daruka in front of him, a jagged blade pressed against the captain’s throat. More men leapt out, some advancing towards Govinda with ready weapons, others moving to grab the horses by their reins.
    ‘Your sword…’ the man with Daruka said.
    Moving slowly, Govinda undid the sword-belt at his waist and threw it to the ground. ‘You’re a long way from home,’ he said, speaking in the tongue of the Yavanas.
    ‘We go where our trade takes us. And it seems we are needed everywhere.’
    ‘But of course.’
    ‘But of course! With men like you around, Govinda Shauri, we need not fear unemployment. Sooner or later, you make trouble for the wrong people, and they decide to put an end to you and your actions.’
    ‘All I can say is that I’m glad your employer hired you. I was getting tired of the Danava mercenary lot. They are so predictable and easily corrupted. You men, on the other hand, I have found to be more reliable. But, you see, that makes me all the more curious. I’ve never known a Yavana soldier for hire to bother with small talk and surrender. What is it you want from me?’
    The mercenary tightened this grip on Daruka, and used his sword-hand to reach for his cowl and pull it down. A hideous scar ran across his face, traversing a misshapen nose and splitting both upper and lower lip into half. Part of the cowl still obscured the sides of his face, but Govinda knew the man would also be missing an ear. ‘I wanted,’ the assassin began, ‘you to know who I am… and what I…we…did. I wanted you to know how she screamed. Philista, your precious Philista. Oh, she fought like a wildcat. We had a man holding each of her legs, pulling her thighs apart. But by the time we were done with her she had fainted. We had to hurt her just to bring her back to her senses. I liked that, I liked that part a lot.’
    Govinda eyes blazed, but he remained otherwise expressionless. ‘Is that all? Shall we get on with it then?’ he asked.
    ‘Oh, not so soon, Govinda. I thought it might be an interesting experiment to see whether you last longer than Philista. My brother there,’ he gestured to one of the other men, ‘has wagered that you would actually enjoy it, if you know what I mean.’ As one the mercenaries burst out laughing, Daruka’s eyes widened with horror and he tried to wriggle free. His captor pressed the knife deeper, cutting a little into the skin of the captain’s throat.
    ‘Let him go,’ Govinda said. ‘Let him and the horses go. I’m the one you want.’
    The lead mercenary spat on the ground in contempt, and then gestured to the man he had earlier identified as his brother, who pulled out his own blade and advanced towards Shaibya, one of Govinda’s four white horses. The horse, sensing the danger he was in, moved back. Taking their cue from him, the other three stallions too, began to rear and snort.
    ‘Wait,’ the first mercenary called to them. ‘Your turn will come, my pretties. Your hides will fetch a good price in…’ He faltered as a loud, inhuman yell of rage filled the glade. The sheer hatred and violence in the voice had all the men, including Daruka, stunned.
    Govinda struck.
    He did not bother with his sword or any other weapon, throwing himself bodily at the man near Shaibya. The force brought the two men to the ground, but before the Yavana could rise, or his friends could come to his help, Govinda grabbed the man’s head with both hands and bashed it against the hard ground. The mercenary’s skull broke open, his brains spilling out in a bloody, putrid mess. Govinda did not flinch. He knew he only had moments before the mercenaries and their leader reacted, though he was certain that the latter would do nothing but wait, safely holding on to Daruka. It was the others who had to be