Legend of Suheldev: The King Who Saved India by Amish

Author:Amish [Amish]
Language: eng
Format: epub, pdf
Publisher: Westland Publications Limited
Published: 2020-06-19T16:00:00+00:00

‘By the great Lord Shiva,’ whispered Suheldev, shocked.

Suheldev was in his room now, lying on the bed, as the doctor had ordered. Sitting by the bed, in comfortable chairs, were Govardhan, Toshani, Abdul and Aslan. Toshani had changed her clothes. Neither Suheldev nor she acknowledged, even with their eyes, what had just happened in the rain.

All had been forgotten. All attention diverted. Everyone was gobsmacked by the news of the death of the one they thought of as the devil himself: Sultan Yamin-ud-Dawla Abul-Qasim Mahmud ibn Sebuktegin of Ghazni.

‘How did he die?’ asked Govardhan.

‘Nobody seems to know,’ said Aslan. ‘My sources are junior soldiers, not officers. So they do not know all the details.’

‘I lost the chance to kill that pathetic bastard myself,’ growled Govardhan. ‘I lost my chance to avenge Somnathji.’

Aslan did not say anything. He stared at Govardhan. His face expressionless. It was impossible to read what he was thinking.

‘Did he suffer?’ asked Abdul.

Aslan nodded. ‘I heard he suffered a lot.’

Abdul ran his open palms across his face, in gratitude to his God. ‘Allah may take time, but He always gives justice. He always punishes those monsters who deserve it.’

Again, Aslan remained silent.

Toshani looked at Suheldev, almost instinctively knowing what he would be thinking. She turned to Aslan and asked softly, ‘What are the Turkic armies doing now?’

‘They are all going back to Ghazni,’ said Aslan. ‘Apparently, civil war has broken out between his successors.’

‘So, is India free of the Turkic menace?’ asked Toshani.

Before Aslan could respond, Suheldev cut in. ‘Only for now …’

Aslan raised his eyebrows, once again impressed by Suheldev’s astuteness. Truly, he would make a formidable enemy to the Turks.

‘Yes,’ said Aslan, ‘the prince is right. It may take a few years, but the Turks will certainly return.’

Abdul glared at Aslan. ‘Is that a warning or a threat?’

‘Abdul …’ said Suheldev, counselling patience through his tone, rather than his words.

‘It is not a threat, Abdul,’ said Aslan. ‘Just a statement of fact. You can choose to disbelieve it if you want to. It may surprise you, but I too have an interest in Prince Suheldev’s career.’ Aslan wasn’t lying. ‘In any case, I will not be around to irritate you much longer.’

‘Where are you going, my friend?’ asked Govardhan.

Aslan smiled at him. ‘I am not needed for now. At least, not until the Turkic civil war is over. I thought I would return to my Sufi path. Try to find a master. Try to relearn some peace.’

Suheldev burst out laughing. ‘You are a natural-born warrior, Aslan. I don’t think you are made for the Sufi path.’

‘The Sufi path unmakes and then remakes you, my friend.’

Suheldev patted Aslan’s hand. ‘Then may Lord Shiva guide your path. I will not hold you.’

Aslan bowed his head and held Suheldev’s hand tightly. ‘Thank you, my prince.’

‘Do you have you any idea who will win the civil war, Aslan?’ asked Toshani. ‘Which son of Mahmud will be the enemy we will have to face in due course?’

Again, Suheldev cut in. ‘From what I have heard, Mahmud’s sons are not that important.

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