Surya,” Karna yelled over the din of metal clashing on metal, horses neighing and men crying in pain. He jumped into his chariot and drew his bow. His first arrow broke Uthayan’s bow. The next wounded the Chera King’s forearm.
The waters of the Narmada turned red with the blood of men and beasts. The doubts that had plagued Karna that morning gave way to reckless enthusiasm. He lost count of the men he killed with his precise volley of arrows. Nevertheless, the Confederate forces pressed on.
“Your Highness, with your permission...” In the mad melée, Karna did not hear what the Brahmin warrior near him was trying to say. Before he could answer, the man had gone, his horse jumping over obstacles and dodging arrows. ‘Where have I seen him?’ wondered Karna for a split moment. As the daredevil equestrian disappeared among the Confederate armies, the answer came to him in a flash. He was the Brahmin warrior from Kalinga, who had come first in horse racing so long ago in Muzaris. But what was he up to now?
An arrow from the King of Vatapi, a Confederate General, struck Karna’s breastplate and fell to the chariot floor with a clang. It lay vibrating as if alive. Karna returned fire in one fluid movement. Using the catapult attached to his chariot, he propelled a mud pot of oil, hitting the Vatapi King’s chariot, drenching it in oil. He picked up the arrows wrapped in oilcloth, held them to the pot of fire and shot off the flaming missile. The Vatapi chariot burst into flames, causing the panicked horses to plunge in their harness and run wild. Some soldiers attempted to extract their King but the chariot collapsed in a burning heap. As his men watched in horror, their King was charred to death along with the horses.
Karna immediately realized his error of judgement. The Confederate armies had resisted using unconventional weapons thus far. Till then the battle had been fought using Hastamuktha arrows and manual weapons. Now that he had broken the unwritten code of warriors by using a Yantramuktha missile, launched from a mechanical contraption, there was nothing to stop them pounding the Hastinapura army with their own missiles. It had been a trap and he had fallen into it. Karna berated himself for being an unthinking fool.
Smoking arrows carrying poisonous herbs started descending on his forces. Nagastras ! They were notorious for leaving a trail of smoke that carried death with every breath. Karna’s men started falling as the smoke spread among the ranks. He desperately searched for the antidote. His Guru had taught him about the herbs capable of neutralizing the Nagastras. Where was the damned cache? Choking and coughing, Karna rummaged through his weapons. A fire-tipped arrow lodged itself in the canopy above his head and the material burst into flames. Through the haze and smoke he saw a pot of oil flying towards him and the smile on Uthayan’s face. Time was running out. Karna quickly mixed the herb powders, praying he had got it right. He did not even wish to imagine the terrible consequences, should the mixture go wrong. He thanked God for the body armour that protected him from the arrows that struck him. He put the mixture into a pot of oil and loaded it in the catapult. The pot began smoking, emitting a noxious smell.
An arrow struck one of Karna’s horses. Something exploded near him, bursting into flames. It was only a matter of time before an oil pot exploded inside the chariot, which stood tilted at a crazy angle. The charioteer lay dead, an arrow sticking out of his neck. The wounded horse whinnied in agony, making the chariot rattle.
As if possessed, Karna mixed ingredients and hurled pots among his men. Those who had survived the first blast of the Nagastras began recovering with his antidote. The time had come to pay back the Confederate armies, but before that, he had to release the horse from its agony. To do so, he had to get down from the chariot – a dangerous step which would
The waters of the Narmada turned red with the blood of men and beasts. The doubts that had plagued Karna that morning gave way to reckless enthusiasm. He lost count of the men he killed with his precise volley of arrows. Nevertheless, the Confederate forces pressed on.
“Your Highness, with your permission...” In the mad melée, Karna did not hear what the Brahmin warrior near him was trying to say. Before he could answer, the man had gone, his horse jumping over obstacles and dodging arrows. ‘Where have I seen him?’ wondered Karna for a split moment. As the daredevil equestrian disappeared among the Confederate armies, the answer came to him in a flash. He was the Brahmin warrior from Kalinga, who had come first in horse racing so long ago in Muzaris. But what was he up to now?
An arrow from the King of Vatapi, a Confederate General, struck Karna’s breastplate and fell to the chariot floor with a clang. It lay vibrating as if alive. Karna returned fire in one fluid movement. Using the catapult attached to his chariot, he propelled a mud pot of oil, hitting the Vatapi King’s chariot, drenching it in oil. He picked up the arrows wrapped in oilcloth, held them to the pot of fire and shot off the flaming missile. The Vatapi chariot burst into flames, causing the panicked horses to plunge in their harness and run wild. Some soldiers attempted to extract their King but the chariot collapsed in a burning heap. As his men watched in horror, their King was charred to death along with the horses.
Karna immediately realized his error of judgement. The Confederate armies had resisted using unconventional weapons thus far. Till then the battle had been fought using Hastamuktha arrows and manual weapons. Now that he had broken the unwritten code of warriors by using a Yantramuktha missile, launched from a mechanical contraption, there was nothing to stop them pounding the Hastinapura army with their own missiles. It had been a trap and he had fallen into it. Karna berated himself for being an unthinking fool.
Smoking arrows carrying poisonous herbs started descending on his forces. Nagastras ! They were notorious for leaving a trail of smoke that carried death with every breath. Karna’s men started falling as the smoke spread among the ranks. He desperately searched for the antidote. His Guru had taught him about the herbs capable of neutralizing the Nagastras. Where was the damned cache? Choking and coughing, Karna rummaged through his weapons. A fire-tipped arrow lodged itself in the canopy above his head and the material burst into flames. Through the haze and smoke he saw a pot of oil flying towards him and the smile on Uthayan’s face. Time was running out. Karna quickly mixed the herb powders, praying he had got it right. He did not even wish to imagine the terrible consequences, should the mixture go wrong. He thanked God for the body armour that protected him from the arrows that struck him. He put the mixture into a pot of oil and loaded it in the catapult. The pot began smoking, emitting a noxious smell.
An arrow struck one of Karna’s horses. Something exploded near him, bursting into flames. It was only a matter of time before an oil pot exploded inside the chariot, which stood tilted at a crazy angle. The charioteer lay dead, an arrow sticking out of his neck. The wounded horse whinnied in agony, making the chariot rattle.
As if possessed, Karna mixed ingredients and hurled pots among his men. Those who had survived the first blast of the Nagastras began recovering with his antidote. The time had come to pay back the Confederate armies, but before that, he had to release the horse from its agony. To do so, he had to get down from the chariot – a dangerous step which would
Similar Books
