The Aftermath in the Guild
The morning after the exposure of the traitor scribe, Vishragarh's guild was a hive of uneasy silence. The once-confident merchants now walked on eggshells, whispering of betrayal, of shadowy raiders with noble crests, of Shaurya's calm gaze that had cut through their lies like a blade.
The long table in the guildhall had been cleared of feasts and perfumes. In their place lay hard parchment and untouched ink. The merchants waited, seated uneasily, their silks rustling like restless snakes. Chandraprakash, their guildmaster, stood at the head of the chamber, his hands folded, his face carefully composed.
When Shaurya entered, clad again in simple indigo robes, the tension deepened. He carried no scrolls, no guards save Ananta at his side — yet the chamber felt smaller, more fragile in his presence.
"Guildmaster," Shaurya said softly. "Yesterday revealed the rot within your house. Today we will see if this house can stand at all."
Chandraprakash bowed. "Maharaj, the merchants are shaken, yes… but we are loyal to Nandigram, and to prosperity. Tell us your will."
Shaurya's eyes scanned the gathered men and women. "Your will does not matter. Your gold does. And that is why today begins the second phase of this trial."
---
The Proposal of Ashval
He unrolled a scroll before them, each brushstroke firm.
"Ashval's roads have carried your caravans for decades. But you paid little in return. Now, if you wish the protection of Ashval's guards, you will bind yourselves in pact. A fixed tithe from every caravan. A trade alliance that cannot be broken."
Murmurs rippled through the guild. Some voices rose in protest.
"A tithe? You ask for tribute, Maharaj!"
"Such coin bleeds us dry! How will we compete with southern guilds?"
But Shaurya raised his hand. The chamber fell silent.
"You mistake. This is not tribute. It is investment. Ashval guards your goods. Ashval strengthens roads, secures ports, patrols mountain passes. In return, Ashval receives stability. Gold is not lost — it multiplies, for trade thrives when fear is gone."
Ananta stepped forward, unfurling a map. "See here: the Ravani Gorge. With Ashval's patrols, raids will cease. Here: the river ports of Durgavana. Open access to our ships means faster transport. And here—" he tapped Nandigram itself "—markets enriched by shared prosperity."
Some merchants leaned forward, eyes glittering. The idea of security tempted them. But others scowled.
Chandraprakash folded his arms. "Maharaj, your logic is keen. Yet guilds are not ruled by reason alone. Rivalries fester. The House of Varma opposes the House of Devendra. The jewel traders despise the spice lords. To bind them is to bind serpents together."
Shaurya's lips curved faintly. "Then I will bind them. And if serpents hiss, they shall hiss within one cage, where their venom falls upon themselves."
---
The Merchant Rivalries
By midday, delegations of merchant houses filled the hall.
The House of Varma, jewel traders draped in ruby-studded turbans, their leader Rajiv Varma known for sharp bargains and sharper grudges.
The House of Devendra, silk magnates led by Shantanu Devendra, whose silver tongue could sell rags as gold.
The House of Sharma, spice barons with saffron stains on their robes, their matriarch Lalitha Sharma fierce as a tigress.
Each entered with entourages, each eyed the others with loathing.
Chandraprakash whispered to Shaurya, "They will never unite. Not even the Queen-Mother could forge such pact."
Shaurya merely replied, "Then watch."
---
The Council of Coin
The chamber filled with arguments, voices clashing like cymbals.
"The silk trade bears the greatest risk — why should we tithe equally?" Shantanu Devendra declared.
Rajiv Varma sneered. "Risk? A single ruby outweighs fifty bolts of cloth. You bleed caravans dry with your wagons. You must pay more."
Lalitha Sharma slammed her palm on the table. "Without saffron and cardamom, what feasts would you dress in silk for? What jewels would kings wear without spice to season their banquets? We are the lifeblood of trade!"
The shouting rose, accusations flying.
Shaurya sat silent, watching, his expression serene. He allowed the storm to rage until their throats rasped and their pride cracked. Only then did he speak.
"Divide your voices, and you divide your strength. Unite your tithe, and you command Ashval's shield. I will not argue with children bickering over sweets. You will sign, or you will suffer."
The words struck like a hammer.
Rajiv Varma bristled. "You would threaten us?"
Shaurya's eyes turned to him, calm yet piercing. "I do not threaten. I remind. Without Ashval's roads, your jewels rot in vaults. Without Ashval's ships, your silks drown in warehouses. Without Ashval's soldiers, your saffron burns in raider's fire. Do you prefer gold locked and dead, or gold flowing and alive?"
The chamber hushed. The merchants exchanged wary glances.
---
Lord Mahadevan's Shadow
But even as unity wavered on the edge of Shaurya's words, a messenger slipped into the chamber — a servant cloaked in dust, his face pale. He whispered urgently to Chandraprakash, who stiffened.
"My lord," Chandraprakash stammered, "news arrives from the north. A caravan under Ashval's escort was attacked this morning — the crest of Lord Mahadevan upon the raiders' banners."
The merchants erupted. "So it is true!" "Mahadevan himself declares war on our coin!" "We cannot sign with Ashval — it will draw his wrath!"
The Queen-Mother's spies, hidden among the gallery, exchanged glances. They had not expected Mahadevan to move so openly.
Shaurya rose slowly, his voice calm even as the chamber boiled.
"Lord Mahadevan reveals himself at last. Good. A serpent in shadow is dangerous. A serpent in the open can be crushed."
He let the words hang. Then:
"Merchants of Vishragarh. If you fear Mahadevan, flee. If you wish to prosper, sign. Your decision will echo for generations. Choose."
---
The Pact of Chains
Silence stretched. The merchants wavered. Pride, fear, greed — all warred within them. Finally, Lalitha Sharma stood.
"My saffron will rot in fire if left unguarded. Maharaj Shaurya, I will bind my house to your pact."
One by one, others followed. Shantanu Devendra, grudgingly. Rajiv Varma, sneering but cornered. Finally, Chandraprakash himself dipped his seal into ink and pressed it upon the scroll.
The Pact of Chains was born — Ashval and Vishragarh bound in commerce, their gold flowing together, their fates entwined.
---
The Queen-Mother's Chamber
That night, the Queen-Mother sat beneath flickering lamps, her golden bangles catching the light. Her ministers recited the outcome.
"He has done it," one said. "The guild bends to his will. Even Chandraprakash bows."
Another added, "But Mahadevan strikes openly. This is no longer merchant squabble. It is war by gold."
The Queen-Mother smiled faintly. "Good. Let Mahadevan rage. Each strike he makes, Shaurya turns to chain. This boy forges empire not only with sword, but with coin."
Her eyes narrowed, glittering. "But chains bind both ways. If he falls, the pact falls with him."
---
Shaurya's Solitude
In his chambers, Shaurya stood before a low brass lamp, its flame steady.
Ananta approached. "Maharaj, you bind merchants, nobles, even soldiers. But chains… chains can strangle as well as secure."
Shaurya's gaze remained upon the flame.
"That is true," he said softly. "But empires are not built on freedom. They are built on discipline. On will. The weak will always fear chains. The strong will forge them into crowns."
Adhipatya shimmered before his sight:
[Trial of Gold: Phase Two Complete.]
Next Phase: Secure trade routes against Mahadevan's raids.]
Shaurya's lips curved faintly, the shadow of a smile.
"So. The serpent bares its fangs. Let us break them."
And the flame before him flickered higher, as though mirroring the fire within his calm eyes.
To be continued....