MALLIKARJUNA

The afternoon sun was absolutely scorching, sucking away every ounce of energy from the frantic soldiers, who resolutely continued to engage in the fruitless clamour on the dusty battlefield. The stench of blood and iron had permeated the air around and the cries of the soldiers from both sides reverberated in the heavy heated atmosphere.

Mallika wiped a streak of sweat mingled with blood off her brow as she eyed the battlefield like an eagle. It was a matter of time. Sudant was no match to her kingdom, Sailam. It was bound to crumble in defeat. She just needed to hold on. But the injury on her thigh was not superficial, and the continuous outflow of blood had started to take it's toll on her.

"Indrasen!" She called out to a fellow warrior, one who had trained with her for many years.

The soldier paused abruptly, gazing up to meet her eyes.

"What is it, First Princess?"

Mallika frowned. This guy would never give up his habit of teasing her for her tomboyish nature. Even in this grim situation, he had to remind her that she was the First Princess of Sailam! Despicable!

"Lead the troops to the western side," she commanded, biting back her urge to smack him hard on the head. "I will join Uncle Brihangad on the east."

Indrasen grinned back, "That wound of yours will leave a scar. Are you sure you want to ruin yourself, beauty?"

He carelessly pointed at a long fresh cut on Mallika's forehead. Indeed it would leave a scar. But she couldn't care less.

"Wait till we go back," she scowled at him. "And you will repent calling me a beauty!"

With a laugh, Indrasen rode his horse away. Though his intentions had been to tease Mallika, the last comment wasn't entirely a joke. The moment he spotted the wound, he had felt a slight unease in his heart. Mallika was a princess, the First Princess at that. Even if she did not admit, she would have to marry someday and settle down. With an ugly scar like that, won't her life be difficult? As a good brother, he could not help feeling somewhat frustrated at her indifference. But he was aware of her temperament.

Wild and wilful. Passionate and rash. Soft at the core and devilish on the outside.

Mallika herself moved further into the battlefield. Her sword slashed through the enemies, and whoever blocked her path, soon crumpled down to the earth. It was unusual for a girl of her status and condition to be this skilled in warfare. To participate in an open battle was something that was even hard to imagine. But for her, they were all okay, as long as they gave her the chance to experience something new.

From her position, Mallika could see the flags of her Uncle's regiment in the distance. She knew they had already won the battle. Just a little while more and the army of Sudant will be completely annihilated.

As Mallika was about to chuckle at the idea, a piercing pain numbed her senses.

The next moment, a burning sensation rose from her chest. Every shred of energy seemed to leave her body. Mallika knew what it was. Lifting her hand, she gently touched the blood laced metal head of the arrow that had pierced her chest from behind and was protruding through her shattered armour

She dropped to her knees. What?! Was she going to die? Her head spinned as the world started blurring in front of her eyes. No! This was the battlefield! It wasn't safe to collapse here!

But she couldn't move herself.

As she felt her body go limp and numb, suddenly, a pair of strong arms wrapped themselves round her gently.

'Huh?'

Mallika tried to open her eyes to look up, but all she could see was a very blurred facade of a soldier, gazing down at her. She caught sight of a chiseled jawline, and a pair of radiant eyes, but she couldn't make out the other features very well. He seemed to be dressed in the armour of Sailam. A soldier from her land?

A strange confusion surged through her body. As she found it difficult to keep her eyes open anymore, she dropped her guard. If this was a Sailam soldier, she should be alright. But...

She felt herself being raised in those arms and the gentle movements signalled her being carried away from the site of the fray. Something didn't seem alright. This person had ..... something about that gaze that made her unusually odd .

'His aura is too strong, far too overpowering for an ordinary man.'

Those were the last thoughts she had before she fell unconscious.

And when her eyes opened again, it was a familiar scene-- the army camp of Sailam.

Mallika sat up, confused. She was comfortably laid on a bed, and around her, the atmosphere was calm as usual. The incense burner on a table was emitting the refreshing fragrance of jasmine. The oil lamps were all lit, radiating tiny circles of warmth from their flickering flames. Her own body was emitting a mild fragrance, the cooling aroma of sandalwood emanating from her limbs. Even her long dark hair was open and gently rolled down across her slender shoulders like a waterfall. Clearly, her maid has been attending to her.

At a distance, she could here the jovial shouts of the soldiers and a faint music that was being played on celebration.

They... had already won? The battle was over? What was she doing here? Wasn't she shot?

In a daze, Mallika lifted her hand to touch her chest, and almost immediately retracted in shock. 'Where is my wound?'

There was no wound on her body-- no sign of an arrow having pierced through her heart!

Baffled, she removed the blanket covering her, to touch her thigh where the other wound should be. It had disappeared as well. Every single cut on her body was gone--- vanished without traces. Even the calluses on her hands could not be spotted anymore!

Just what could have cured her so quickly and so effectively. What had happened in this short span of time?

To be contd.....