The Most Terrible Terror

Omar gave the leader of the bandits another look over. He had heard that a young man had killed Raka and took on not only the mantle but also the deceased's name but when the young Raka sauntered towards him across the now crowded field, he was left flabbergasted at the prospect of talking murder with such an innocent face. The three day Fete for the Dead was on its last legs and a sea of onlookers had descended on the huge field between the pond and the forest to celebrate the Fete. The fire-eaters and the hand driven carousels attracted most of the crowd. People were screaming out of joy and of fright, behaving abysmally like children and no one minded the cacophony at all. Omar stood among them and his aura drove the crowd away from him. People would make their way to Omar for where he stood there was still space to adjust tens of them but the moment they would step in Omar's sphere of influence, they would stagger to a stop and then sway away from Omar. It made Omar smile for he knew that no one around him knew who he was and yet the simpletons knew better to avoid him from a distance. He wondered what would happen if the people around him somehow came to know about him. Would they stop and gape at him or would they scamper away from him? Would his infamy cause the Fete to be abandoned? Then his assistant Ratan cleared his throat to get Omar's attention and when Omar deigned to look at him, Ratan pointed out a young man approaching them with slow, measured steps.

The young man had to jostle through the crowd but he made it look effortless. He pushed the people away from him gently and they yielded to his shoves like a malleable putty. Raka threaded his way through the crowd and soon reached Omar. He looked up at Omar fearlessly and then pointed out a hut in the corner. Without waiting for Omar's nod, Raka began moving towards the hut. It made Omar wince. He wondered about the power equation between him and the young leader of the bandits. He needed to teach the young kid a lesson in propriety but now was not the time for it. He wanted Raka to find someone for him and he wanted the young man to be in the right state of the mind. The lesson in propriety would have to wait.

The hut in the corner was occupied by the bandits. They stepped out of the hut to leave Omar and Raka alone to confabulate in peace. The thick walls of the hut cut off the noise from the Fete. Raka offered Omar a glass of mead and then waited for Omar to sit before taking a seat himself. Omar appreciated the gesture of respect made by the young leader of the bandits.

“Do you know about the commission?” Omar asked Raka.

“No,” Raka shook his head. “But I don't have to know about it, right? That's what has been told to me. Anyone who comes to me has to be served. That is the vow I took in front of Devi Ma.”

“What if someone asks for something terrible?” Omar had a hint of smile playing on his lips.

“Whatever it is,” Raka shrugged his shoulders, “it has to be attempted. We don't know if the attempt would be successful or not but we have to try. That is our motto.”

“Great to hear that,” Omar put his empty glass on the floor. “I want you to find and capture Yashpal.”

Raka learnt that Yashpal used to be the right hand guy of Omar but then some months back their relationship deteriorated and Yashpal was fired. He then proceeded to murder Omar's ten year old daughter and ran away to hide in the mountains near Pabab where a group of bandits had given him shelter.

“He murdered a ten year old kid!” Raka could not hide his rage. “Why would he do that?”

“To avenge his humiliation,” Omar replied. His eyes always got moist when he thought of Remi.

“Humiliation?” Raka echoed it. “He was fired and he took it as a personal humiliation? How crazy is he? How did you not see that he was a rotten one? How many years did he work with you?”

“Seven years,” Omar sighed.

“Seven years!” Raka was baffled. “Then he must have seen the poor kid growing up right before his eyes. How could the monster bring himself to hurt her?”

“There was a time when he used to tell bedtime stories to Remi,” Omar blinked hard to stop the tears that were trying their hardest to run out. “I trusted him. Remi trusted him. She used to call him mama. Oh my god!” He broke down. He wept bitterly for some moments. Raka sat awkwardly on his seat staring at the broken figure of Omar, wondering if it was the same Omar whose mere name caused people to quake in his boots. The death of his daughter had taken a huge toll on Omar.

After some moments, Omar wiped off his tears. “I wanted to kill Yash by my own hands,” he spoke softly. “But he managed to slip past us. The manner in which he planned for his escape told me immediately that he had planned the murder for some time. I employ spies to gather information for me. These spies don't work for Halim. They work for me. I go through their reports to find out if any threat is being acted out against our beloved king or his wife or his sons. No one came to me to tell me that my own child was in grave danger. They failed me. All of them failed me. I have sacked all of them. I am no longer interested in anything save extracting a terrible vengeance on the man who has wronged me. The king, he is my cousin but you must be knowing that, he told me to take some time off to try and hunt the monster who murdered my Remi. I found out that Yash has joined the bandits in Pabab. Then I thought of you. You are the king of the bandits. All the groups of the bandits defer to you. You are their true leader. It would be very easy for you to get your hands on Yashpal. If you can get him alive to me, I would pay you 10000 gold coins.”

“I will certainly try,” Raka said. “But what if a push comes to shove and I have to kill him. What will I get then?”

“I will pay you 2000 gold coins then,” Omar said. They shook hands over it. Omar paid an advance of 500 gold coins and bade Raka goodbye.

Samir, who had decided to shadow his new boss, overheard the entire exchange and was left disappointed. His earlier boss would have made Omar commit to at least 5000 coins to kill Yashpal. The new leader was young and inexperienced and it showed in his interactions with their clients. Samir was in his early forties and had accompanied the previous leader of the bandits for close to 24 years. When Raka (for the new leader had taken the same name as the previous leader) left with Gora to kill Barun, everyone in their group expected it to be a cake walk. They were left surprised when Raka asked them to swear to accept Barun as their new leader should Barun manage to kill him. Samir had taken the vow in jest but then when they were summoned to the rest house where Barun was to be brought by his cousin, they were left awe-struck to see the dead bodies of Gora and Raka. It was Santosh who was the first to accept Barun as their new leader. The rest of them, bound by their vow, followed him. Samir accepted Barun as their new leader but when Barun decided to take on the name of Raka, he was left irritated beyond words. He found it really hard to accept a young man as his leader and was planning to enlist some other men to his cause to overthrow Barun's reign but then Barun challenged an elite soldier and managed to kill him without breaking a sweat. That one act cemented Barun's place as their new leader. Samir had to bottle up his rage and frustration. Almost six months had passed since Raka was killed and Barun, as the new Raka, had proved himself unto the challenge of living to the expectations of his new crew. Moreover the young Raka was doing everything to win the praise of poor villagers. He would make the bandits pay the taxes on behalf of the villagers. It earned them great fame and obtained for them great loyalty from the villagers who helped them in evading the royal guards. The stock of their new leader just kept going up in their team and it left Samir restless and frustrated. Samir waited patiently for his chance to overthrow his leader. He did not have the skills to challenge their new leader and no one else seemed to have any kind of bone with Raka and so they went on rolling from one place to another. The stories about the bandits took on mythic proportions now. That was how Omar learnt of the new leader of the bandits and decided to seek his help.

Raka knew that it was a matter of great honour to be sought out by the second most powerful man in the kingdom and he fully intended to bring Yashpal alive to Omar. He hated people who killed children to settle their scores and he looked forward to apprehend the reprehensible monster who had murdered a little kid.

Raka waited for some moments to allow Omar to leave and then whistled once to summon his team. He let them know of Omar's tragedy and how the killer Yashpal had joined the bandits operating in the forest near the ancient kingdom of Pabab.

“Well, that's bad,” Mrinal whistled once. He had been a bandit for more than ten years and had managed to win the trust of their young leader. “Boria runs that team over there. He is a scallywag. An out and out slimy person with no morals except the desire to make money at any cost.”

“He and his team,” Santosh chimed in, “prey on the foolish people who take the forest route to avoid the guards. You see, there is a route that goes through the forest that would take you to Abitsar. Smugglers use that route but they are in cahoots with the bandits so they would always make successful forays all the time and then they go around and tell the innocent people that they could do the same. So then foolish traders who want to save on tax or the devotees of Amman believe them and these foolish people go on their journey and then never return.”

“Amman?” Raka repeated the word slowly.

“Oh, you might not know about it,” Mrinal said, “but Amman is a reincarnation of Gauri Ma and there is a huge temple in Abitsar in her honour. To visit the temple is considered a very pious act.”

“So will Boria accept my command?” Raka asked Mrinal.

“They have to,” Mrinal shrugged once.

“They took a vow to follow Raka so they should,” Santosh said. “Why, Samir? What do you think about it?”

“Raka made us take the vow to follow the new leader,” Samir spoke carefully. “We kept our word but I don't think Boria would accept it.”

“Then we will beat him to make him accept it,” Santosh lost his cool. “Everyone has to accept our leader. That's how things have to stand.”

“That's how things used to be,” Samir said, “but times have changed. Why, I remember the last time Boria met Raka. Boria was mouthing off against Raka and then was beaten brutally to bring him in line. It happened long time back, almost ten years have passed since then. Boria avoided Raka after that beating and sent his tributes regularly but he must have heard of the regime change and now he doesn't send any tribute. No, sir. We need to go there and bash him again to make him toe the line.”

“So what are you suggesting?” Mrinal asked Samir.

“We should go there en masse,” Samir replied, “and challenge them. That's the only way out in my opinion.”

“No,” Raka shook his head. “If Boria has any problem with me, then he will have to engage with me. I plan to take one of you with me to show me the path. The rest can stay here and carry out our plan to raid the eldest prince's convoy.”

“Will that be advisable?” Samir intervened. “Picking a fight against Prince Durjoy seems unnecessary.”

“He challenged us,” Santosh's eyes flared. “He went around telling people that we were scared of him, that we run away when he visits our area because we were scared of him. As if!”

“His bravado is shocking but expected,” Raka said, “but I just want to recoup our losses. In one week his tax collectors would return. I wanted to be here to personally deliver the blow but I am now totally obsessed with bringing Yashpal to justice. So I need to go to Pabab. I don't think I would be able to return in one week so someone else would have to lead in my place.”

Samir looked slyly at Raka to see who he would be chosen as the deputy leader. He wanted Raka to choose him. In his eyes, he deserved it the most. He had been with the bandits for the longest time.

“Santosh, you will lead the team,” Raka said. Samir swallowed his protest immediately and with a fake smile congratulated Santosh who was overwhelmed by Raka's kind offer. Before Santosh could react, Mrinal thumped his comrade's broad back.

“Mrinal, you will come with me,” Raka added. “I believe you are familiar with the roads to Pabab.”

“It will be my honour,” Mrinal made a fist of his right hand and hit his chest twice. “Omi baba's job takes the highest priority for us.”

They left for Pabab that very evening. Raka's last instruction to Santosh was to be very careful for he did not want to lose anyone in his team in the endeavour to raid Durjoy's convoy. Then he rode away with Mrinal.

The journey took around four days before they finally entered the dense forest that encircled the hills of Pabab. The kingdom of Pabab was razed down by the joint forces of the forest king and the kings of Abitsar and Tribhanga. The immortal king of Pabab disappeared and his kingdom was destroyed. The forts and the buildings were abandoned as the citizens of Pabab abandoned their homes. The forest then took over the hills and the last remnants of the glorious kingdom was lost to the world. The bandits ruled the forest around the hills and controlled the illegal routes connecting the kingdom of Abitsar and Tribhanga. There were at least 22 villages inside the forest who lived in the constant fear of wild animals and equally wild and temperamental bandits.

Mrinal was an expert at noticing and identifying the symbols left by the bandits on the trees to guide their comrades to their hideout. After an hour of walking along side their horses, they finally noticed a dilapidated building around which some tents had been set up. They were challenged by some bandits in a very coarse language but when Mrinal told them that it was Raka they were addressing, they shut up quickly and led them to Boria.

Boria turned out to be a really tall and strong man. When he came outside to check the commotion, he dwarfed his comrades. He was at least a foot taller than Raka.

“So you are the new guy,” Boria spat out a spittle of 'paan'. “I heard that you killed Raka and took his place. Why did you have to take his name too? Were you scared that no one among us would respect you if you went by your own name?”

The disrespect shown towards his boss made Mrinal saw red. He abused Boria and reminded him that it was Raka's last wish to accept Barun as their new leader.

“He made you all take the vow,” Boria stared at Raka with unbridled hatred. “I was not made aware of it and I refuse to accept this kid as my master.”

“Then we settle it with swords,” Raka said.

“What's at stake?” Boria gestured to one of his men to fetch his sword.

“What do you want?” Raka asked as he was led towards the open field that would act as their arena. “It doesn't matter much to me for you are going to lose but I would still like to know it.”

Boria muttered some more curses and imprecations at Raka. “Your life,” he thundered. “I was thinking of taking your crown but now I want your head put on a stake right at the entrance of my room. Every night I would spit at your decapitated head. Yes! That's what I want to do!”

“Glad that you shared that desire with me,” Raka spoke in an even voice.

Boria watched with unconcealed irritation at the bandit who struggled with the broad sword that he was sent to fetch. The sword was big and heavy and only Boria was capable of swinging that monster around.

“So what do you want?” Boria snatched his sword from his lackey who was struggling to walk properly with the weight of the sword in his hand.

“I want Yashpal,” Raka unsheathed his sword.

“And what about him?” Mrinal stood in a corner and watched his young master take on the boorish giant. “I mean, once you beat him, I don't think that you would want him to continue as the leader of these bandits.”

“My predecessor beat him too,” Raka kept a sharp eye on Boria for he didn't trust the giant, “but he let Boria the beast live. He must have seen something in him so I will defer to his judgement. I am here to apprehend Yashpal. Nothing else matters.”

Someone struck a gong somewhere and Boria jumped at Raka intending to smite him in one blow. Raka waited till the last moment possible and then twisted his body to evade the blow that went sailing past his head. Boria did not even have the time to swing the sword back. Raka grabbed Boria by his vest and dragged him forward. The giant had not expected the young man to possess the kind of strength to drag him and he was stunned when he found his feet leaving the ground. He fell face first on the muddy ground. The mud went into his eyes. He screamed obscenties at Raka and tried to get up but Raka used the hilt of his sword to hit Raka on his right temple. The blow was hard enough to black out Boria for a moment. When he came to, he found that his sword had been snatched by Raka and that Raka's sword was hard press

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ed on his throat. Any stupid movement on his part would have pushed Raka to slice his neck.

Mrinal could not believe that the duel got over in under one minute. He laughed out loud at the plight of the foul mouthed beast at the mercy of Raka. The bandits serving under Boria were left awe-struck at the speed and agility of Raka. They waited for Boria to accept his defeat before cheering loudly for Raka. They all hated their current leader but they did not have the courage to challenge him. Now when they got an opportunity to celebrate Boria's fall, they put their heart and soul in their cheering. Boria was filled with a deep shame at the sound of his own comrades cheering his defeat. Mrinal made sure to make Boria accept Raka as this new leader and then he forced Boria's men to submit the tribute due to their king of the bandits.

While Mrinal was busy, Raka asked Boria to bring Yashpal to him. He had been told that Yashpal had joined Boria as a bandit and so he expected the coward to be standing in the crowd of onlookers but he was left very surprised when Boria led him to the very last tent. Boria went inside the tent and then returned shortly with Yashpal in tow. The man who Omar had been hunting was bound in chains.

“A prisoner!” Raka marveled at the prospect. “I believed that he joined you like a bandit.”

“He came here with that intention,” Boria muttered massaging his right temple gently, “but when I found out that Omar had been looking for him, I imprisoned him. I then sent a demand letter to Omar asking for money in lieu of his child's killer. But then Omar approached you and sent you here.”

“How much money did you ask for?” Raka felt upset with Omar for not telling him about Boria's demand letter.

“50000 gold coins,” muttered Boria.

“That's a lot,” Raka said. “I don't think he has that kind of money on him.”

“Oh, he is the king's cousin,” Boria smirked. “He could have been the king but that is an entirely different story. He has got a lot of money but he is very stingy. Imagine that! He tells everyone that he is obsessed with finding his child's killer but he refuses to pay me to lay his hands on Yashpal here. He just had to send the money. I would have handed the prisoner to him. That's our code. That's how we make our living. But he bypassed me and went looking for you just to save some money.”

Raka looked at the cowering figure of Yashpal with disgust and then asked Boria to get the prisoner a horse.

“You are not going to stay with us?” Boria was surprised. “You must be tired from your journey. Rest here for a day or two.”

“I need to return quickly,” Raka replied. “I left some urgent business pending. The sooner I return, the better it would be. Hoist this wretch up a horse and secure him there.”

Mrinal was very upset at the prospect of a quick return but he had the sense to not challenge Raka in front of everyone. Boria kept their tired horses with him and gifted them five horses. He personally brought his horse for Raka and gifted it to his king. The horse was a beauty to behold. It was swift-footed and very strong. Boria supervised his men loading the tribute on two horses. The prisoner was made to sit on a horse and tied securely. Mrinal brought up the rear of the procession.

Boria acknowledged the debt of his life to Raka and promised him that he would wait for his chance to clear off the huge debt. He stood tall and strong with his broad sword hanging loosely by his side and watched till the procession disappeared from his sight. He then took out his broad sword and proceeded to attack his comrades who had witnessed his shame. Some of them tried to escape but Boria hunted them down. It took him some hours to kill the last one of them. Then he took a horse and went after Raka's retinue. He had a debt that he wanted to clear as soon as possible.

Raka, on his way home, rode on in a daze. He could not understand why Omar decided to lie to him about Boria not being willing to hand over Yashpal to him when all Boria wanted was a huge sum of money. He halted near a pond and asked Mrinal to put up a tent there itself. Mrinal took the help of Yashpal and soon a makeshift tent was made ready for them. Mrinal offered Raka meat and wine and threw some stale bread towards Yashpal but it upset Raka who made Mrinal offer refreshment to their prisoner. Mrinal disliked Raka's order but fulfilled it nevertheless. He gave Yashpal a glass full of wine and some pieces of meat wrapped by leaves. Yashpal emptied the cup in one go and then Mrinal grudgingly filled the cup again. Raka was amused to notice that Mrinal was using a separate bottle for Yashpal. Mrinal was not going to share his own bottle of wine with a lowly prisoner.

“Tell us your story,” Raka asked Yashpal. “We know you as a child killer. You killed Omar's only child and he could have paid the ransom demanded by Boria and capture you. But he sought my help even though my intervention would cost him days. Why would he do that?”

“If I know him properly,” Yashpal spoke in a soft voice, “he must have sent an assassin after you. The assassin would wait for his chance and then kill me.”

“Would he really do that?” Raka mused loudly. “It is true that he offered me a paltry amount if I were to bring you back dead.”

“That's his game plan,” Yashpal said. “He abuses the trust of people around him.”

“Just like you abused his trust?” Raka's eyes flashed. “You murdered a ten-year-old kid.”

“I did not do any such thing,” Yashpal reacted strongly. “I keep telling everyone that I did not kill Remi but no one listens to me.”

“Then who killed her?” Mrinal put his glass down.

“It was an accident,” Yashpal spoke in a low voice.

“Tell us your story,” Raka urged him again.

Yashpal did not need any more persuasion. He told them that seven years back he was a soldier who was keen on joining the rank of the elite soldiers. Omar approached him one day and made him an offer to join his ranks. Yashpal loved the idea of working closely with a man of such high stature and resigned from the army. He began working as an underling of Omar. His primary job initially was to connect with spies and to gather intelligence for Omar. He soon gained Omar's trust. He was then given strange jobs that made him travel across Tribhanga. Sometimes it was to extort money from the traders and twice he was asked to assassinate people who opposed Omar. Yashpal followed the orders diligently and never questioned Omar though many times he was left disgusted by his acts. Once he was asked to recover money from a trader but when he reached their house he found that the trader had lost his son a week back and that there was no way the trader could have arranged the amount due to Omar. Yashpal returned empty-handed that day and Omar lost his cool on him. It was the first time he was verbally abused by Omar who then sent someone else to make the recovery. Yashpal was then given menial jobs and made to work in Omar's mansion. It was certainly not what he wanted to do but he persevered believing that he would regain Omar's trust someday. In retrospect, he believed it to be the worst decision of his life. However, during those days, he got in contact with Remi. Her mother had run away with her lover soon after Remi was born. The kid had been raised by the servants but she was a lovely child with impeccable manners and a very cute voice. He used to tell her bedtime stories.

“Those are my fondest memories of Remi,” Yashpal smiled. “I loved the child as my own. Then one day I learned that Remi was going to be wedded to a man thrice her age. She was only ten years old. There was no hurry for her to get married. Omar could have waited till she had turned 14 or 15 years old but he was in a hurry to cement his ties with a renowned family and he offered his daughter as the bride of the eldest son of that family. Now I did my own digging and found out that the young man to whom Remi was to be wedded was a pedophile It was just his way of satisfying his carnal desires. He was already twice married. Both of the girls had been no older than 12 years and both of them had died within two years of their marriage. Omar was sending his daughter to be ravaged by a monster. I could take it no longer. I could not stop and watch my Remi be denigrated in this manner. I began to plan to kidnap her. I meticulously planned for my escape. Everything was ready. I just had to make the grab but then everything went wrong. The young man, who had been betrothed to Remi, came to pay her a visit and then touched her inappropriately. Remi began to cry and I could hold myself back no longer. I killed that monster then and there. Then the other guards attacked me. Remi tried to protect me and got hurt. I managed to kill the guards but Remi was a fragile young child. That one blow was enough to mortally wound her. There was nothing I could do for her so I put her head on my lap and gently stroked her head. She died in my lap listening to her favorite story. I did not kill her but I caused it. My hands did not kill her but my temper did. Omar rushed to his house when he learned about the fracas. He saw Remi's betrothed dead and began to wail. He did not cry for his dead daughter. He wept for his lost chance to be connected to a renowned family. I screamed curses at him. I called him names in front of the servants. I called him a feckless and heartless man. He tried to attack me but I managed to overpower him. I should have killed him then but I spared his life for I had subsisted on his money. Then I ran away from that blasted place. Later I came to know that Omar told everyone that I murdered his daughter. I came to Pabab to live in the jungle as an ascetic but then Boria's men found me and dragged me to their camp. I then requested to join them like a bandit. Boria agreed but the very next day he imprisoned me. He then sent a missive to Omar to make his ransom call. I knew then that Omar would never pay that kind of money to get hold of me. My hunch was proved correct when you came here to take my custody.”

For some time no one spoke in the tent. Raka suddenly felt his head getting heavy. Around the same time, Yashpal winced and began to massage his stomach.

“Well,” Mrinal smirked on seeing Yashpal suffer, “I must say that your story is a load of crap. You are lying. Omar's daughter died of strangulation. She was not hurt by a weapon. You put your dirty hands on her throat and kept pressing it till she died. That's what happened. I know it because I saw her dead body.”

“You saw it?” Raka's head swam now. The room seemed to spin for him. He could hardly keep his eyes open. He had been drugged and the only person to do so had to be Mrinal. He tried focussing on his breath to keep him awake but he was in no shape to fight or to run. He was at the mercy of his companion and he hated the feeling of being helpless.

“And now I can put my cards on the table,” Mrinal chuckled. “Yes, O king of the bandits! I am on the payroll of Omar. He used to hire me to get his dirty jobs done. It was a very good, sort of win-win, relationship. Before you bumbled along, many of us used to entertain such requests from the high and the mighty. It was fun and made for easy money. Then you killed Raka and became our king. Then you began enforcing your ideas on us. What sort of a bandit would pay the taxes of poor people? Why are we even looting money if all that we have to do is give it to the poor people? This is insane. I went to meet Omar to rant about you. While I was in a meeting with him, someone came to inform Omar about his daughter getting hurt. We ran to his mansion and saw Remi's corpse. Omar had a nervous breakdown.” He poked Yashpal once in his chest. “You told us a fantastic story but unfortunately most of it was a lie. It is true that Remi was engaged to a man who was older than her but it was not like three times her age. Please! Omar would never agree to it. He loved Remi too much ever since Remi's mother eloped with her lover. By the way, do you know what happened to them? Nothing! They managed to escape to Abitsar where they live under the protection of the royal guards. Halim never agrees to send his spies to assassinate them and Omar has got no power over Halim to make him do so. Omar tried hiring assassins over there but they were either captured or killed. So Omar's wife stays alive. In any case, back to the story. Omar loved Remi too much and he would never agree to get her married to a known pedophile Remi's betrothed was only six years older to her. He was a kid too. You stabbed him and left him for dead but he survived your attack. You weren't aware of it? Wow! You are a knucklehead! In any case, you killed Remi because she wouldn't agree to come along with you. You see, we know all about your secret life. You are incapable of starting a family. You can never have a kid of your own. So you decided to steal Remi and when she wouldn't agree to come with you, you lost your cool and killed her. I have seen many blackguards but you take the cake. That is why I wanted you to die in a horrible manner. The wine that I handed to you was laced with a poison that would kill you slowly. The last time I gave it to someone, he died in about 32 hours. He moaned and groaned and vomited blood and did who knows what else! I left him to die in a hut and sat outside listening to his cries for help. You would most certainly die a quicker death given that you were hungry but still, it would be a spectacle lasting hours.”

He bound Yashpal and threw him in a corner. He then bound Raka easily and pushed him aside. He finished his drink and then delivered a kick to Raka.

“I hated you,” he snarled. “I hated the thought of having a young man lead us. Someone who is so inexperienced in life should never have got the chance to lead us who are battle-hardened. Omar did not want me to kill you but I am still going to do so. It would make Samir very happy. I know that he hates you and that he is looking forward to getting you out of the picture so that he could lead the bandits but he has not done so for two reasons. The first obvious reason is that he is in awe of your battle skills but the second not-so-obvious reason is that there are fools in our group who look up to you, who simply adore you. In these six months, you have managed to make them your willing followers. Samir knows that his attempt to remove you would cause a rift in the team so he bides for his time to stab you in the back. But I can't wait any longer. Today you defeated Boria the beast so quickly. It was breathtaking and exhilarating to watch. But then you spared his life. That one act told me unequivocally that you are a coward who would never get the courage to murder people. Oh! Don't give me that look. Killing people in a duel is easy. You are already pushing your body to the limits to face off your enemy and when you get a chance to kill you swing your sword and Bam! You kill him. Easy! But when you are looking at someone helpless, someone without a weapon, and you use your dagger or sword to kill him, that is the ultimate test of courage.”

“I don't agree with it,” Boria barged in the tent, “but now that I have a sword in my hand and you are sitting there with no weapon and there is no way to save your life, would you agree with me that it will be very courageous of me to smite you?”

Mrinal's face lost its color. He tried to make a grab for his sword but Boria was faster than him. Mrinal lost his right arm in the very first blow. Then Boria threw away his sword and pummeled Mrinal. He didn't stop even when Mrinal died due to his blows. He kept pounding the crushed body of his enemy till he got tired. By then Mrinal's dead body was no longer recognizable.

Raka had passed out while Boria was thrashing the life out of Mrinal. When he woke up after some hours, he found that he had been carried outside the tent and left propped against a tree. There was a piece of bark a bit away from him. When he tried to pick it, his head ached terribly. On the backside of the bark, Boria had left a message for him.

“I have repaid your debt. Mrinal took a vow to protect you and then tried to kill you. I killed him with my own hands. He must have suffered greatly. Next time we face each other, one of us doesn't get to walk away.”

Raka tossed it away, pulled himself up to stand on his shaking legs, and staggered towards the tent. He peeked inside to see flies buzzing over the mangled corpse of Mrinal. Yashpal seemed to be dead but then he shivered once and a moan of terrible pain escaped his lips. He was on the verge of death for some time now but there was still time before his spirit snapped its ties with his body.

Raka turned away from the gruesome scene and staggered towards the horses. The sun was about to set and it would not be advisable to travel during the night but Raka just wanted to escape the forest. He dragged himself on top of his horse, the one Boria gifted to him and led the horses with the tribute behind him. Slowly he regained full control of his senses. The forest around him hid many terrors but Raka was not scared of them. He had faced the most brutal terror of them all, the betrayal of his close aide and he had been left shaken to the core by the thought of being so helpless against his impending death. He did not want to face that terror again. He needed to find good people who he could trust with his life. That was the only way to become the true king of the bandits.