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Morning Before the Trial
The dawn in Nandigram burned red. Smoke from countless forges spiraled skyward as if the city itself exhaled iron. In every courtyard, hammers rang out. The sound was rhythmic, ritualistic — the preparation of weapons for the Trial of Arms.
The streets filled with murmurs. Merchants whispered wagers, soldiers stretched impatiently, and smiths hurried with bundles of tools. The first trial had shaken the nobles' confidence, but today was different. Today was spectacle.
At the heart of the palace courtyard, a new stage had been raised: a circle of stone lined with anvils, furnaces, and racks of weapons. Here, the pledges of iron and steel would be tested.
And Shaurya knew: this was not merely a test of metal, but of his right to wield influence among warriors.
---
The Queen-Mother's Stage
The Queen-Mother sat upon her elevated throne of carved sandalwood, the scent of incense thick around her. Ministers flanked her, scrolls in hand, while guards stood stiff with polished spears.
Her smile today was faint, inscrutable, but her eyes glimmered with cold purpose.
"The Rite of Arms begins," she declared. "Let each pledge be tested not in word, but in steel."
Her voice echoed. The nobles leaned forward. Soldiers licked dry lips. Blacksmiths flexed calloused hands.
The Queen-Mother's gaze flickered briefly to Shaurya. A spark of amusement danced in her eyes.
Feed them grain, Ashval king, and they will bless you. But can your iron sing in battle as well as your words?
---
The Nobles Display
First stepped forward Lord Kalyan Singh, renowned for his cavalry. His pledge: fifty war-horses clad in steel barding.
The horses thundered into the arena, armor clanking. Spears lowered, riders charged across the stone circle. The nobles cheered — a grand display of martial wealth.
Next came Lady Devyani again. Her pledge of jeweled swords was brought out. Each blade glittered, golden hilts studded with rubies. She held one aloft, smiling at the Queen-Mother.
"Fit for kings, my lady," she purred.
But when a smith struck one blade against a bar of common steel, the jeweled sword snapped at the hilt. Gasps rang out, and smirks flickered across faces.
"Adornment," muttered one minister dryly. "Not war."
Devyani's smile stiffened.
Then came Bhaskar Rao, with his soldiers. His men performed with spears and shields, clashing in perfect rhythm. The display was loud, grand, but Shaurya noticed the chips in their spearheads, the bending of the shafts. Quantity without quality.
The crowd applauded anyway.
---
Shaurya's Turn
At last, the herald's voice rose.
"Shaurya of Ashval — step forth."
The murmurs grew sharper. Some sneered, remembering his pledge of mere iron bars. Others leaned forward, curious after the miracle of grain.
Shaurya walked forward, calm and unhurried. His ministers — Varun the strategist and Acharya Govind, his priestly advisor — flanked him, their faces set. Behind them, Ashval's smiths wheeled forward carts of iron ingots.
The Queen-Mother raised a brow. "No horses, no jeweled swords, no companies of men? Only raw iron?"
Shaurya's voice was steady.
"Iron is the spine of war, Rajmata. Let it prove itself."
At his signal, Ashval's smiths lit the furnaces. Flames roared, bellows pumped, and ingots were fed into the fire. The clang of hammers soon filled the courtyard, a rhythm steady and strong.
Before the eyes of all, Ashval's smiths forged the iron into weapons: spears with gleaming tips, swords balanced to perfection, arrowheads sharp enough to pierce armor.
The smell of hot metal mingled with incense. Sparks danced in the air.
Within hours, racks of fresh-forged weapons stood gleaming, not adorned with jewels but honed for killing.
---
The Trial by Combat
The Queen-Mother leaned forward.
"Words and forges speak well. But steel must taste flesh and shield before it is called true. Let your iron be tested in combat, Shaurya of Ashval."
At her gesture, Bhaskar Rao's soldiers marched into the circle, shields raised, spears leveled.
From Shaurya's side, Varun's voice was firm.
"Allow us to demonstrate."
Ashval's men — only twenty, lean and weathered — stepped forward. They armed themselves with the newly forged weapons.
The crowd murmured. Twenty men against Bhaskar Rao's fifty? Surely folly.
The drum thundered. The trial began.
Bhaskar's soldiers charged, shields locked. But the Ashval men met them calmly, their spears piercing through gaps, their swords cutting clean.
Steel clashed. Shields split. Sparks flew.
One Ashval spear sliced through two layers of wood and into a soldier's shoulder. Another blade cut a jeweled sword in half.
In moments, it became clear: Ashval's weapons were sharper, stronger, deadlier.
The nobles gasped, the crowd leaned forward, and even Bhaskar Rao's confident smile faltered.
---
Shaurya Steps In
Then the Queen-Mother's voice rang out, sly and commanding.
"If the Ashval king's weapons are so mighty, let him wield one himself. Let us see if their worth matches his arm."
The challenge was public, impossible to decline.
Shaurya stepped forward without hesitation. He lifted one of the swords — simple, clean, balanced. His movements were calm, unhurried, but when he swung, the air itself seemed to shiver.
A veteran captain of Nandigram was brought forward to face him, shield in hand.
The clash lasted only seconds. Shaurya's first strike split the shield. His second stopped an inch from the captain's throat.
The courtyard roared with shock.
Shaurya lowered his blade, offering the captain a nod of respect. The man bowed deeply, shaken but honored.
---
The Queen-Mother's Second Trap
Yet the Queen-Mother was not defeated. She leaned forward, her smile as thin as a knife.
"Strong steel, indeed. But Ashval's iron cannot yet arm thousands, can it? Grain may feed the poor, iron may arm a few men — but can it sustain an empire? That is the true test."
Her words stirred murmurs. She had shifted the ground again, painting Shaurya's pledge as insufficient for scale.
But Shaurya's eyes gleamed faintly, his calm unbroken.
"An empire is not built in one feast nor one forge, Rajmata. It is built by roots and seasons. Ashval's earth yields more than iron, more than grain — it yields loyalty. And loyalty scales faster than jewels."
The Queen-Mother held his gaze. For a moment, silence reigned.
Then, reluctantly, one minister spoke.
"The Ashval pledge… has passed."
Another added, "Its worth in war cannot be denied."
Applause rippled — hesitant at first, then swelling.
---
Adhipatya's Whisper
The System of Adhipatya flared.
[Trial of Arms Completed]
[Reputation +25]
[Unlock: Forge Node — ability to scale weapon production in controlled lands]
Shaurya allowed the numbers to fade, his eyes steady on the Queen-Mother. He had won the second trial, but he knew her tests were far from over.
---
Closing Scene
As the crowd dispersed, whispers filled the palace:
"The Ashval king's iron bites like fire."
"Not jewels, not pomp — true steel!"
"Yet can he supply an army? The Queen-Mother is right…"
The Queen-Mother stood, her voice silencing all.
"The Trial of Arms is ended. Tomorrow, the third trial shall weigh not food nor steel, but loyalty itself. Let the banners of allegiance be raised."
The drums thundered once more.
And Shaurya, calm as ever, walked back to his chambers. He knew the next trial would not test grain or iron, but the hearts of men.
And those hearts could be the most dangerous battlefield of all.
To be continued....