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Night over Nandigram
The moon rose high above Nandigram, its pale light spilling over the domes of the royal palace. The banners that had fluttered proudly during the feast now hung limp in the night wind, their colors muted by shadow.
The streets outside the palace glowed with lanterns, merchants closing their stalls while soldiers patrolled in twos and threes. But beyond the outer ring of lamps, the night thickened into silence.
It was there — in the forgotten courtyards and abandoned shrines — that other meetings were held. Meetings unblessed by the Queen-Mother's conch horns.
---
The Emissaries Gather
In the ruins of an old Vishnu temple near the northern gate, six figures gathered, cloaked and hooded. Their movements were swift, cautious. Their voices, hushed.
The leader, a tall man with a scar across his chin, lifted his hood just enough to reveal the crest stitched into his collar — a coiled serpent clutching fire. The sigil of Vishragarh.
"We have seen enough," he murmured. "This Shaurya is no ordinary upstart. The Queen-Mother's traps failed, and the nobles cheer him now. Ashval grows in shadow, while Vishragarh's grip on these lands loosens."
Another emissary, smaller in frame, spoke with a whispery laugh. "Then perhaps it is time we remind Nandigram that Vishragarh does not sleep. We still hold many strings in this court."
A third slammed his palm against the cracked temple pillar. "Strings are not enough! Did you not see the banners? Even the merchants pledged him grain. The Queen-Mother tests him, and he answers as if born for court and battlefield alike. If we wait, he will devour both Ashval and Nandigram, and then Vishragarh itself."
Their leader silenced them with a raised hand.
"No. We must be precise. A serpent strikes not at the shield, but at the vein beneath it."
---
The Hidden Report
The leader unrolled a parchment, sealed with red wax. On it was written their true mission:
'Ascertain the nature of Ashval's king. Test his resilience. Report his weaknesses to the Council of Vishragarh.'
The scarred emissary frowned. "We came seeking weakness. Instead, we found strength. But even strength has roots. We must cut them."
The whispery one leaned closer. "Then we begin with his ministers. That one — Varun, the Treasurer — speaks much but thinks little. The scholar Devdutt is too blunt, too rigid. If we break the branches, the trunk will stand exposed."
"And the Queen-Mother?" another asked.
The scarred emissary's eyes glinted. "She is no ally of his, only a tester. But she plays too carefully. If we… adjust her game, perhaps Ashval and Nandigram will bleed each other while Vishragarh laughs."
The cloaked figures nodded, their plan sharpening like daggers.
---
Meanwhile: In Shaurya's Quarters
Far above, in a chamber draped with Ashval's banners, Shaurya sat in meditation. A single oil lamp flickered before him, casting shadows across his face.
Varun entered quietly, bowing low. "Maharaj, forgive the hour, but there are whispers. Merchants have seen Vishragarh's envoys leaving the feast. They moved not toward the guest chambers, but toward the northern gates."
Shaurya opened his eyes. Calm, steady.
"Vishragarh does not watch idly. They coil in shadow, waiting for us to stumble."
Devdutt, who followed Varun, added: "If they move tonight, it means they seek alliances within Nandigram. Perhaps some noble, perhaps… even the Queen-Mother herself."
Shaurya rose, his indigo robes trailing like night itself.
"Let them whisper. A serpent may think its fangs are hidden, but the earth feels every tremor of its crawl. Tomorrow, the court will speak, but tonight… we will listen."
He gestured to Varun.
"Gather trusted ears among the servants. Let the kitchens and the stables hear what the throne cannot. As for me…"
His gaze turned toward the northern gate.
"…I will see what the serpent coils around."
---
The Midnight Trail
Cloaked in plain cloth, Shaurya slipped through the palace corridors with Devdutt at his side. They moved like shadows, guided by whispers from loyal guards.
By midnight, they reached the northern quarter. The air here was different — quieter, heavier. The ruined temple loomed ahead, its broken idol of Vishnu lying half-buried in dust.
Inside, the emissaries still argued.
"…He bends nobles with words alone. If this continues, even Vishragarh's merchants may defect!"
"Then poison his reputation. Whisper that he hoards grain, that his justice is a mask."
"No — we need the Queen-Mother. She must see him as a usurper. Then she will strike for us."
Shaurya's expression did not change, though Devdutt's fists clenched.
"Maharaj," the scholar hissed softly, "shall we drag them out now, expose them before the Queen-Mother?"
Shaurya shook his head. His eyes gleamed with calm resolve.
"No. Serpents revealed are serpents prepared. Better they believe their whispers unheard. For now, we watch."
And so they did, learning every strand of the emissaries' plot.
---
The Emissaries Depart
At last, the scarred emissary rolled the parchment again.
"We return at dawn. The council must hear of this Shaurya. And when we return… we will not return with words alone."
They slipped out into the night.
Shaurya waited until their shadows vanished beyond the gate before speaking.
"Devdutt."
"Yes, Maharaj?"
"Summon our ministers. Quietly. At dawn, Ashval will not only answer Nandigram's court. We will prepare for Vishragarh's shadow."
---
The Ministers' Secret Council
Before the palace stirred, Shaurya's ministers gathered in his quarters.
Varun, ever practical, warned: "If we expose the emissaries now, the Queen-Mother may accuse us of sowing discord. Better we use their schemes to corner her court."
Devdutt, fiery, argued: "No, Maharaj! Delay gives them room to strike. We must cut the serpent's head before it coils tighter."
Rajendra, Minister of Arms, silent until now, rumbled: "The serpent's head is Vishragarh itself. If we strike here, their council will only send more. The question is — do we prepare for open war, or for shadow war?"
Shaurya listened to them all, his face unreadable.
Finally, he spoke.
"Both. War begins not with blades, but with whispers. We will answer both."
He rose, his presence filling the chamber.
"Today, Nandigram tests my diplomacy. Tomorrow, Vishragarh will test my endurance. But hear me well — no banner of Ashval will fall to shadow. Not while I breathe."
The ministers bowed, the fire of his words steadying their doubts.
---
The Queen-Mother's Watch
Yet unbeknownst to them, the Queen-Mother too had her spies. From her private chamber, she received a report at dawn:
"My Queen, the King of Ashval walks at night. He watches where Vishragarh whispers."
The Queen-Mother's smile was thin.
"So, he knows. Then let him dance with serpents. The more coils around him, the more I will see his true strength."
She turned toward the balcony, gazing at the rising sun.
"And if he survives… perhaps Ashval and Nandigram are not destined to be foes, but something greater."
Her eyes narrowed.
"But first, the game must play."
---
Foreshadowing
As dawn broke, banners swayed in the wind. Merchants bustled, soldiers drilled, and the court prepared for another day of intrigue.
But in the ruins outside the walls, serpent tracks lingered in the dust — a sign of the greater storm that would one day spill beyond Nandigram and Ashval, reaching toward kingdoms yet unseen.
And Shaurya, standing at his window, whispered to himself:
"This is no longer Nandigram's trial. This is the shadow of Vishragarh's war."
To be continued....