Victory And Loss ( Part 6 )

He lit the pyre. The small figure didn't leave, but stood there against the blaze with his palms joined together in prayer.

On the other side, Bo'Hur clashed with the boy general over thirty times already and still found no advantage. The kid was fast like lightning, his weapon sharp and enduring. He came and went like a flash, striking the moment Bo'Hur exposed a flaw. Bo'Hur only needed to catch the boy once and he would be done, but even though this was a one on one confrontation, Bo'Hur was always sidetracked and could never find his real target! The sand started to rise in the desert, visibility decreased. Dust assaulted one's eyes and made all the soldiers restless. Their respective camps were both not far away. But only one camp could shelter people from the storm. One side is about to be buried!

If at all Bo'Hur must be distracted, this was something that should've distracted him. The life and death of thirty thousand elite warriors of the desert. Instead, what distracted was the otherworldly vision of heavenly beauty that he just saw. Bo'Hur knew himself well. He wasn't one to forget himself with one look at a woman. What he saw was purity itself. Something deeper and closer to truth that these rough barbarians can never attempt to get close to. The truth that had a magnetic effect and made Bo'Hur unable to forget.

A sharp whistle like sound came from behind his left shoulder and a small figure leapt from the dust pushing his sharp knife in between the plates of Bo'Hur's armour! Blood spurted from that wound while barbarians warriors let out enraged cries. Bo'Hur smiled.

He caught the small wrist and yanked the body attached to it from atop his head, pummeling it into the ground while kicking up a cloud of dust. Bo'Hur used his fists to beat up the little boy continuously until his armor broke and he was coughing up blood. When he tried to escape, Bo'Hur lifted his heavy boot and stomped on the boy's leg. A disturbing crunch was heard.

Surprisingly though, the child warrior didn't utter a cry. He looked at Bo'Hur with hatred filled eyes and flicked a dart from under his sleeve that punctured his left eye.

Bo'Hur screamed in horror only to find that he lost his hold on the little monkey, which had at some point jumped on his wide shoulder and was trying to knife his throat. Without a thought, Bo'Hur fell to ground with a thud and rolled around while trying to get squeeze the monkey's wrists until they broke. Another series of crunches were heard as the little general's wrists snapped and his arm bones fractured. Still, the child acted as if nothing happened, rolling around with the general without letting go of his grasp.

Bo'Hur regretted not beheading the boy when he caught him straight away. Instead, he pummeled him with his fists showing off to his people that he was avenging the three commanders who lost their lives. He got blinded by a hidden weapon because of that. Now he only had to blame himself. Meanwhile, as they scuffled, Bo'Hur finally saw signs of the sneak attack that he was anticipating during the earlier fight. People he recognised as the boy's personal guard moved surreptitiously into a formation. It seemed totally random at first, but if these people were to move ahead suddenly, one person could slip in without anybody and act covertly without anybody noticing. He could take action like blowing a dart or firing a crossbow…Considering the low visibility because of the dust, if the boy were to act in sync, he could pretend that it was own hidden weapon that attacked! As he realised that Bo'Hur looked up, only to see the boy shaking his head at his people.

Do not interfere.

Just as he was distracted by that movement, Bo'Hur suddenly found himself stabbed several times on his shoulders. Unknowingly, his armor plates had loosened and the boy found the opportunity. Just as he was about to use brute force to get out of the boy's hold, Bo'Hur felt his lower leg hurt terribly and he was unable to move it at all, making the rest of his movements awkward. He remembered that the boy attacked the area below the back of his knee just as they started fighting. But he didn't feel anything then. Only now, he couldn't even feel the portion.

But Bo'Hur was a veteran. A boy shy of eleven could fight with a broken leg. He could do so as well. Only problem is, the more the boy was injured the more resilient he became. He seemed to take each injury as a challenge, surprising Bo'Hur who each time expected him to react to pain or shield himself or display any such normal reactions when one is injured. He fought more furiously, the more Bo'Hur got him, making the veteran general feel jarred and discomposed, as if he was fighting a devil from the folk tales.

As the two of them scuffled in the sand, the storm on the horizon came closer and closer, eclipsing the rays of the sun. People who were earlier cheering or cursing or encouraging now fell silent. The visibility was too low and the man and the child were scuffling on the ground, kicking up even more dust. They were unable to tell what was happening. After what seemed like a long time, there was a loud shout along with a great amount of dust that was kicked up. A moment later, there was a thud, after which all activity in the arena ceased.

As the spectators watched breathlessly, the dust settled to reveal a giant male form lying motionlessly on its stomach. The boy was not even seen. A moment later, the male form wriggled and from underneath it, a pale boy who was bathed in blood slid out. He was panting heavily and was bleeding in three different places, ready to pass out at any moment.

Kush's subordinates rushed out to help him up. Jolted by their movements, the stunned commanders on the other side did the same. The remaining seven of them.

Kush motioned for his subordinates to stay and managed himself into a sitting position, then he kneeled and then slowly stood up.

The seven subordinates of General Bo'Hur also hoped for a similar action from their general, but he didn't even move. He was still alive, however. After they helped him up somewhat, Bo'Hur said in Sanskrit, "Why did you leave me alive, little General?"

"I want your loyalty Bo'Hur. Not your death." Kush answered heroically, even as he panted.

"You are worth my loyalty…" Bo'Hur was distracted for a moment as he saw the same pink figure walk from between the sand dunes, her figure swayed by the violent gales that raised dust. But even in all that dirt, she looked pristine and pure. She walked very slowly, yet covered the distance from the distant dunes to here in seconds. She came and stood next to Kush, who was swaying already.

"The children of the desert swear loyalty to the leader of Maruts!" Bo'Hur announced loudly.

The thirty thousand desert people watched the storm coming from behind them. This time they fell prey to the designs of the civilized people again. The Maruts chose this battleground and as though they anticipated the storm, built their camp behind the only available mountain! If the desert people didn't give in now, they would be buried. The Maruts could easily retreat to their side and defend the camp itself which was originally storm proof, but the barbarians had nowhere to go to!

The barbarians all uniformly looked at the swaying little boy who was bathed in the blood of their commanders and generals. Then they looked at the goddess who stood beside him indifferently looking like an article of purity and vitality that they were unable to find anywhere in the desert. They found in the moment, the same inspiration that General Bo'Hur did. An inspiration that would lead them beyond the arid lands and into the great expanse of Aryavarta, taking them on countless conquests and an exploration of Dharma, a search for the self.

Together, the barbarians knelt. "The children of the desert swear loyalty to the Leader of the Maruts!"

Kush's vision was blurry and even his hearing was somewhat messy due to loss of blood. He looked up at Ashangi's pure face, whispering, "Teacher, but I'm not the real leader of the Maruts." Even in this state, the greedy boy was very much worried about doing things for free for other people.

Ashangi smiled a little and patted his head. "That's alright. Who needs the loyalty of these stinky people? They are only a weapon for you to use in the future."

Kush was at a loss. He thought perhaps his injuries were making him confused because it seemed like his teacher just said he did all this for nothing.

He held her arm with his blood one, begging, "Teacher, but what about my real army?"

Ashangi patted his head softly. "That'll happen when you have your own state. Until then, you have these…" she looked distastefully at the people who were all knelt down. Their clothes, their bulky jewelry and their dirty fingernails. "Well, these…things."

"Teacher, what is my real state…? Will we conquer Rtadhara then? Or the other dryland nations?"

"No. Because that would be unrealistic to do with just this group of uncivilized people. No matter how many inner conflicts dryland nations have, they are united against outside, especially non-Aryan forces." Ashangi made Kush lean on her, but seeing that he was about to keel over, she simply picked him up from below the knees and shoulders, letting him fall asleep. "But there are places that would give in even if their conquerors are barbarians…Teacher will lead you there. Just rest for now."

"Teacher, I want Rtadhara. I want nothing else. I want Rtadhara."

Ashangi smiled helplessly and motioned those people to rise, signaling to Ajagava at the same time to take care of the aftermath. She left swiftly to camp while shielding Kush from the rising storm.

Kush was still mumbling unconsciously as she put him in bed and checked his injuries. "I want his…I want what's his! It's mine. Teacher, it's mine!"