“You failed.” the voice was
dispassionate, the face expressionless. The man swallowed. Somehow
the very indifference of the being that confronted him was more
frightening than anger or recriminations. He knew that failure would
not be acceptable, but he had not expected this level of judgement.
He could feel sweat beading his brows, and much as he would have
liked to wipe it off, he knew that to show any sign of weakness would
be a mistake.
“The assassins I hired could not
do the job,” he conceded. “For obvious reasons, I cannot show my
hand openly. I have to put on a neutral facade at the least.”
“That is understood.” The
creature answered, its voice a susurration that sent shivers down his
spine. “But that does not explain the reason for your failure. You
know as well as I that he cannot be killed by any ordinary assassin,
not when he has his – protection.”
“I know. I just thought...” he
could feel sweat trickling down his face and body. “I don’t see
how he can be killed at all if that enchantment is as strong as you
say.”
“The enchantment can be weakened
and destroyed, but it requires strong counter enchantments, but even
they won’t be effective unless he is struck by someone who shares
his bloodline.”
“One of his brothers, then.”
“Yes. Now, you understand. They
must be turned against him. That is your task. As you say, you cannot
show your hand openly, but they know and trust you. Poison their
minds against him. Slowly… slowly… just change them… and they
will destroy him.” The voice had dropped into a whisper, almost
hypnotic and he felt drawn into it, and nodded his head before
shaking it violently. He couldn’t fall under its spell. He had to
ally himself with it, but that was out of necessity. His agenda was
different.
“Even if somehow I turn one of
them against him, there’s still the fact that he’s a very skilled
warrior. They call Arnava the best, but he’s no match for
Bhaskara.” He pointed out. He had seen Bhaskara fight, and he had
seen Arnava fight, and he had no doubt that in a battle between the
two, Bhaskara would always prevail.
“Are you here only to create
objections?” the voice came out in a growl, and the man felt a
prickle of fear, but he refused to be cowed.
“I was just pointing out the
obvious,” he said.
“Don’t worry about that,” The
creature said. “The enchantment needed his mother’s life force to
cast. To weaken it would require the life force of its subject.”
“You mean, the spell to weaken it
will weaken him.” he guessed.
“Yes. But even then, only someone
who shares his bloodline can strike the killing blow. Nothing else
will suffice.”
“I see,” he paused.”I see my
task. It is not easy, but it can be done. We need turn only one
against him, and one is already against him. I can use him.”
“Use the warrior,” the creature
or being or whatever it was spoke. “He’s the one who must do it.”
“Why? Maitreya is easier to
manipulate. Arnava and Bhaskara are already as thick as thieves.
It’ll be a difficult task to turn him against Bhaskara.”
“Do not speak names!” the
creature hissed. “Names have no place here! It must be the warrior,
for otherwise, he will ascend to the throne and he will not rest
until he has taken his revenge on us!”
“What have you against him?” he
asked now, curious. “I know why I want him gone. I have plans for
Jwalamukha and they are not served easily if – the usurper is on
the throne, and yes, the warrior on the throne could be easily
problematic and so it helps my goals if he would get rid of his
brother, but what is your stake in this?”
“The witch, Malavika,” the
creature hissed. “She stole the enchantment from us, and cheated us
of our revenge when she used it to protect her child. We would have
killed her, and had our soul for ours had she not sacrificed
herself.”
The man again felt a prickle of
fear. This was no ordinary being. It was a spawn of hell, and he knew
that one misstep could cause his soul to belong to it.
“So, now you want her son’s
soul.”
“We want his life by breaking the
stolen spell! And we will have a soul, his or his brother’s. The
one who strikes the killing blow will be ours! You just have to make
certain that he doesn’t live long enough to redeem himself.”
The man nodded. The thing was right.
Once Arnava had killed Bhaskara, it would be better to get rid of
him. Mahakarma was a doting father and might decide to forgive his
son for fratricide, and Arnava on the throne was no different than
Mahakarma on the throne. Sumitra, on the other hand, was weak. He
could be manipulated, failing which he could be removed easily, and
they could take control of Jwalamukha and its vast resources. But
first, he had the daunting task before him of turning Arnava against
his brother.
