The Conspiracy at Meru by Shatrujeet Nath

Author:Shatrujeet Nath [Shatrujeet Nath]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Vikramaditya Veergatha Book 2: The Conspiracy at Meru
Publisher: Jaico Publishing House
Published: 2016-08-10T00:00:00+00:00

Udayasanga

The bulky hulls of the Huna ships slipped over Udayasanga’s head as he sneaked under the dark, icy depths of the bay. Occasionally, the water above him lit up when the barbarians launched a fireball at Dvarka, and in those brief flares of light, Udayasanga caught fleeting glimpses of his fellow samsaptakas swimming alongside.

Progress was slow and hard. The samsaptakas struggled against the cold and strong sea currents that kept tugging at them, throwing them off course. The darkness was disorienting too. Besides, every now and then they had to surface for air – and to establish their bearings – huddling in the ships’ shadows to avoid detection. Stealth marked their every move, and it came at the price of speed.

The samsaptakas had little more than a foggy idea of the agnikantakas’ exact position; they knew even less about the defences that the Hunas had mounted around the catapults. But time being short for a proper reconnaissance, the warriors had decided to head straight into a strike, hoping their resourcefulness and luck would see them through.

It was a big gamble, Udayasanga thought to himself as he hugged the hull of one ship and rose to the top. He didn’t emerge from the water immediately, though. Holding his breath, he waited until the next fireball left an agnikantaka, its light refracting through the water. Making a note of the ball’s trajectory, he followed its fiery course, aware that the eyes on the decks above were likely to be on the destructive fireball, and not on the waters below. The eyes above would also be dazzled by the flame’s glare. He broke the sea’s surface softly.

Udayasanga discovered he had surfaced between two rings of vessels forming protective circles around the flamethrowers – an outer ring and an inner ring. The smell of oil, sulphur and burned mustard was overpowering, clinging about the ships’ masts and sails, and creeping around corners like a cancerous fog. He caught the murmur of voices from the decks, and though the words were incomprehensible, from the tone he gathered that instructions were being relayed. There was no urgency or vigilance in the voices – he even fancied discerning a spot of boredom, the sort that is born out of complacency.

He liked that. The Hunas had their guard down.

Around him, the heads of the other samsaptakas popped out from under the water, one by one. Udayasanga counted all thirteen before he motioned with his fingers, drawing his men’s attention to a wedge between two ships that bobbed and swayed in front of them.

A vessel lay beyond the narrow gap, a hulking skeletal contraption made of wood rigged crudely onto its deck. Three men were operating a winch, which was attached to a levered arm of the contraption. The ladle-shaped arm dropped progressively lower with the tightening of the winch, until it was at an almost horizontal position, a foot off the deck. One of the men quickly slipped a knot under the arm, securing it tight.

The samsaptakas exchanged sharp, furtive glances.

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