The Wrath of the Hellfires by Shatrujeet Nath

Author:Shatrujeet Nath [Shatrujeet Nath]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Vikramaditya Veergatha: Book 4 - The Wrath of the Hellfires
Publisher: Jaico Publishing House
Published: 2020-11-03T00:00:00+00:00

Janasthana

Darkness that was not so much black as it was bleak, not so much a colour as it was a mood; a depressing miasma that manifested in spilled blotches and crude brushstrokes, as if dealt on canvas by clumsy, inartistic hands.

And trapped between the folds of darkness, there was

the fog.

White and tightly packed in some places, standing up

to the encircling darkness. Straggly and attenuated in

others, interlaced with the darkness and unable to resist its invasive squeeze.

Tatters of darkness and fog, drifting along on a wind he couldn’t feel.

And through the fog and the darkness, a voice, borne and snatched away by the wind.

…over… it is the last… gone…

The voice was familiar. He had heard it recently.

…is how it passes… our home… to a memory…

Betaal.

There was a strain in the old voice that managed to worm into the king’s consciousness. The Ghoulmaster was trying to tell him something, Vikramaditya realized.

…hear me anymore… is the end… but we are helpless… tree is dying…

The neighing of a horse. The clinking of bridle. Men talking. The samrat tried to shut out all sounds so he could listen to Betaal.

…tell you, good king… too late for us…

The veils of darkness parted, the fog brightened and Vikramaditya blinked his eyes open to a clear dawn framed in a window right next to the rough wooden bed where he lay.

More neighing of horses and men laughing. The smell of horse manure and hay.

It took a moment for the king to orient himself. He was at the horse station, he remembered.

In the interest of time, he and his escort had picked the shortest possible route to Udaypuri, which meant bypassing the garrisons of Lava and Biddhira, located to the north and south of the direct route. Arriving at this old horse station, which lay square on their path and catered mostly to trade convoys, they had elected to break briefly for a night’s rest.

Getting up on one elbow, the samrat manoeuvred his injured shoulder gingerly, waiting for a stab of pain. Nothing happened. Emboldened, he wiggled his arm around, experimenting, and though it hurt mildly at some angles, the rawness from yesterday was gone. Dhanavantri was proving to be quite a healer, the king thought, swinging his feet off the bed. They had to get going before the sun got higher—

He stopped as his mind served up a reminder of his dream about Borderworld.

Betaal had sounded sad, but incoherent. What had he been trying to say? Vikramaditya tried to recollect the Ghoulmaster’s words. Something about the tree dying and it being too late… But wasn’t that from the last time Betaal had called out to him, when the asuras had attacked Borderworld? When the Ghoulmaster had wanted him to come and rescue the Halahala and the tree before it was too late. Then what about now? Had Betaal reached out to him again? Or had he just dreamed the old dream again, a trick his mind had played?

The only way of finding out was to go back to

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