A Good Trade

It was approaching twilight in the dryland forest. Behind the Solitary Wind Palace, there existed a thicket which extended over the hills, all the way towards the plains led to the borderlands. The plains consisted many a township across them, and were guarded by simple battlements. These townships emerged along the standard trade route owned by the Ha'gya clan along with other small trading clans.

At the moment, there was a rustle in the thicket. The rough undergrowth was stealthily separated to reveal one such battlement. The township was surrounded by simple walls that were fifteen to twenty feet high. Soldiers patrolled vigilantly on top, one eye on the long King's way to look for approaching visitors. Clad in red dhotis and holding tall spears with similarly red tassels, they looked quite fierce and bloodthirsty. At the same time, those of the rank captain and above who occasionally passed had a more restrained aura. They wore grey silken dhotis with bright red border and a silk turban which lightly swung across their face with the wind. They looked quite composed and reliable.

Loud panting sounds were then heard along with the rustling. The thicket which was lightly separated closed again. A tall and lithe, fearsome looking man dressed in a black dhoti, black top cloth and a black headcloth deftly retreated from the spot. His eyes fell on the faded brown grass of the underbrush. Drops of bright red blood fell unevenly on it, painting the surface. The man's heart clenched.

He looked at the source of the panting worriedly. "Little Prince, it doesn't look like your brother's army had made it here yet. We better seek help first from this township before deciding what to do…"

The Little Prince Vajradandaka had a pale face, trembling palms and a sweaty exterior. He was struggling to keep his eyes open. A large gash ran across his little arm, from which an arrow had just been removed. His upper body was further bandaged with a long white cloth to cover even more ghastly injuries on his back. If an outsider were to see this child, they would immediately think that he was on the verge of death. Only the assassin beside him who knew the real extent of his injuries knew it wasn't that bad. For now.

Resolutely, he shook his head. "No! We can't give away our plan after coming this far…" he panted heavily. "If they knew our real purpose in choosing this route is to rescue eldest brother, they will be even more resolute in hunting him down!"

It had been a year and a half since the war. Rtadhra won a resounding victory yet again, but the king who led the army to the border had been gravely injured in the battle before the last. The barbarians who never fought anything but head on battles performed a rare sneak attack, almost successfully assassinating him. Thankfully, the rebellious eldest prince had gone against the king's orders and already reached the battlefield by then. He then rallied the soldiers, who nearly lost their morale, to take revenge for their king. He completely crushed the barbarians until fog of blood obscured the horizons of the battlefield.

Even so, the single poison dart that injured the king in that war changed the entire political climate in the kingdom. Despite his resolution, Jeh-shaan of the Patrdal clan left the ailing king's camp and joined hands with the grand prince. The Raj guru publicly supported the grand prince by speaking in complex tongue about how the stars select the bloodline of the eldest prince of the previous king in order for the reign of Martanda to be established on earth. Among the eight Adityas, the last Aditya Martanda was said to be a mortal and therefore not fit to be considered on equal terms with others such as Indra and Agni, etc. who were gods. He is equated with a stillborn or even a distorted fetus and is therefore unfit to rule. However, according to tradition, ten generations of Martandas were supposed to rule the Aditya clan's Rthadhra so as to ensure fairness. After all, all eight Adityas were children of the same womb. They were brothers. The Raj guru boldly proposed that only by solving grievances between brothers could they successfully launch the reign of Martanda. And since the grand prince was deprived of what was rightfully his at the time of his little brother's coronation, leaving this grievance unsolved would lead to destabilization of the reign of Martanda. It would go on to fulfil the prophecy that Martanda, whose name literally means dead foetus, will never successfully be born as a ruler and cause Rtadhra to fall as a nation. These ominous words won over the intellectuals and now, several of them were in support of giving the grand prince or his bloodline what was rightfully his. No one actually knows what that is. No matter what, going against the previous Indra's decree to select his youngest child as Indra was still a sacrilege. So they wouldn't suggest or encourage a brother snatching the throne from the younger brother. Even the grand prince wouldn't do that as that would make him forever despised in the eyes of the citizens. However, an equal amount of power as the current Indra was still warranted! Perhaps things would come to a head by putting an end to the current Indra and the successors from his first queen. The rest can be used as pawns until a satisfactory solution is reached.

The third personage who dealt a fatal blow to the king's camp was the Prime Minister. This person was a shrewd businessman in reality. The grand prince had been amassing wealth and supporters for decade. But this person had long known that at the crucial moment, it would be impossible for the grand prince or his blood to actually take the throne. Who he actually aligned with was not the grand prince, but the second queen!