The Absconding Prince

Today would be the ten years, since the disappearance of the young prince. Not a single soul has seen him in flesh and blood, most of the claims to the location of the absconding prince have turned out to be false. It seems like no one any longer bothers to find, the hero of the war. Except for the retired emperor, who believes his grandson is probably a prisoner of war. The present king, also has no interest in these affairs, nor in any of the state. He never had any. Had you asked for a plebiscite ten years before today, regarding who should be crowned the throne, there would have been a unanimous answer, Prince Dileep. Even the then emperor, Kanisha Vardhan, would not have expected, that the next prince to sit on the throne was Viraaj not Dileep.

But the fate had sealed a different tale to reveal. In a war against the powerful ruler of Delphi, Shiraj Dilshan, the armies of Burman, demonstrated an exceptional courage and strategy. Headed by the General Vishal Vardhan, the armies infiltrated the forts of Delphi, cutting of the trade points. In an extraordinary display of valour, Prince Dileep, spearheaded the attack on the enemy forces. Within a week, Delphi was devastated, the markets had run out of supply and armies ran out of soldiers. What was left was an angry ruler, who would not concede defeat. In devious plot to destroy the backbone of the military, Shiraj sent assassins to murder Vishal Vardhan in his sleep. The treachery did succeed, but the army of Burman, was burning for its revenge. Like an angry storm, they marched across the main streets, into the king’s castle. Then trained cavalry of Delphi was no match to the fire what fuelled the Burman forces. And added with the expertise of Prince Dileep, every arrow fired from his quiver was a nail in Shiraj’s coffin. And soon the forces marched into the palace.

The palace was filled with screams of women and children, not a single man to be found. The courtiers had taken shelter under the queen’s court, ready to surrender at the first call of the enemy. Shiraj had locked himself in the queen’s bed room, draped in the queen’s clothes attempting to flee. But his elaborate escape plan had not accounted for one thing, Prince Dileep. The prince paced through the palace floors, slitting the soldiers before they knew what had hit them. Soon, he stood in front of Shiraz, who now looked no different than a frightened chicken waiting his slaughter. Most of the men there claimed that he cried for forgiveness, but for a son whose father was murdered in sleep, the screams were inaudible. But then something strange happened, Prince Dileep never came back. His sword drenched in blood was found, so was his horse, but he was nowhere to be seen. When the army woke after feasting over the women and men of the castle, they had no sign of their valiant hero. He was gone without a trace. Nor did any one ever run into prince Dileep again.

Yesterday, I had a visit to the best woodcutter in the country. I heard he could slice the thickest log with a single blow. I could bet, he was the prince we all were eagerly waiting for, but he said a story which I could not hear. After the prince had sought his revenge, he walked into the queen’s quarters, only to find a little boy raising a sword at him. Beside him was a lady soaked in blood and an infant whose cries were muffled by the lady’s breasts. “Kill me, rape me but save my children,” she repeated in her fading voice. It was no queen, just a mother, bargaining her kids’ life. His sword dropped, the battle was lost. Till now, he was worried about what would he say to his dead mother about his father’s murder, now the same question echoed in his ears. The quiver, fell and the bow seemed heavy, here was an enemy who out powered him. And the prince fled, the plan was ready for him, thanks to the dead king.

Here in the country side he rules. Two beautiful children, a lad and a lass, a small house. I could not help but ask their names, “Vishal” and “Mandaki”. I remembered these names, they were of his parents. I knew that he had answered his dead parents, he had become more than a prince. I came back to the country, I read the pale and torn reward posters for the absconding prince. He had been charged of treason for plotting his father’s death. What else could you expect from an incapable king? Wish they never found the absconding Prince, for we don’t deserve such a king.