43) Chapter

Madhavi woke up slowly, her eyes fluttering open to an unfamiliar ceiling. Her heart raced as she tried to make sense of where she was.

The softness of the bed beneath her and the gentle hum of distant chatter outside the room only heightened her anxiety. She sat up abruptly, her gaze darting around the room, her hands gripping the silk sheets tightly.

Before she could move, the door opened, and a maid entered with a soft smile.

"The mistress is coming, my lady," she said politely, though her tone carried curiosity. Madhavi didn't respond, her fear and confusion overwhelming her.

Moments later, the mistress of the house, Sumithra, entered with an air of calm authority. Seeing Madhavi's tense posture, she raised a hand to reassure her.

"Child, it's all right," Sumithra said gently, her voice like a soothing balm. "You're safe here. No one will harm you."

Madhavi's breathing slowed slightly, but her nerves remained. "Where am I?" she finally asked, her voice trembling.

"You are in Sripura," Sumithra replied, studying Madhavi's reaction closely. "You collapsed on the steps of my mansion. I couldn't leave you there."

Madhavi's eyes widened at the mention of Sripura. "Sripura..." she whispered to herself, the name sinking in.

Sumithra tilted her head curiously. "You seem surprised. Do you know this place?"

Madhavi shook her head quickly, her fingers twisting in her lap. "No, I-I've just heard the name before."

Sumithra let it go for now and smiled warmly. "What is your name, child?"

After a pause, Madhavi answered hesitantly, "Madhavi."

Sumithra nodded approvingly. "A beautiful name. Madhavi, you look tired. We'll speak more once you've rested. For now, the maids will show you to the shower area. A warm bath will help you."

Despite her unease, Madhavi allowed herself to be led away. When she returned, she looked transformed. The maids had dressed her in fine silks, her damp hair falling in soft waves around her shoulders.

Her natural beauty shone brighter, but the haunted look in her eyes remained. She stood hesitantly by the door, unsure of her place in this lavish setting.

Sumithra dismissed the maids with a wave of her hand, her attention fully on Madhavi.

"You're quite striking, my dear," she said with a smile, motioning for Madhavi to sit. Madhavi hesitated but eventually complied, her hands fidgeting nervously in her lap.

Sumithra sat across from her, her gaze both kind and curious. "Tell me, child, where were you headed before you collapsed at my doorstep?"

Madhavi shook her head, her voice barely audible. "I don't know."

Sumithra frowned slightly but pressed on gently. "Do you have any family? Parents? Siblings?"

Madhavi's lips trembled as she replied, "I never knew them, my lady"

For a moment, Sumithra said nothing, her gaze softening as she studied Madhavi's face. There was something achingly familiar about her, a resemblance to someone from a past Sumithra had tried to put behind her. Her heart clenched, but she didn't voice her thoughts.

Instead, she reached across the table and placed a comforting hand on Madhavi's. "You're welcome to stay here, my dear. At least until you regain your strength."

Madhavi shook her head quickly, panic flaring in her eyes. "I can't. I have to-"

Before she could finish, a wave of nausea hit her suddenly and violently. Her hand flew to her mouth as her face paled. Sumithra immediately called for a maid to bring a pot, and Madhavi vomited, her body trembling from the effort.

Sumithra's expression shifted as realization dawned on her. "You're pregnant, aren't you dear?" she asked softly.

Madhavi froze, her wide eyes meeting Sumithra's. After a long pause, she nodded, her hands clutching her stomach protectively.

Sumithra's brows furrowed in concern. She rose from her chair, pacing briefly before turning back to Madhavi. "You can't wander through towns and forests in your condition," she said firmly. "You must stay here until your child is born."

Madhavi opened her mouth to protest, but Sumithra cut her off with a raised hand. "No arguments, child. I won't allow you to put yourself or the baby at risk. You need rest, nourishment, and care. This house will provide all of that."

Madhavi's shoulders slumped, her resistance waning. Tears filled her eyes, but she blinked them away, nodding reluctantly. "Thank you," she whispered.

Sumithra softened, reaching out to tuck a strand of hair behind Madhavi's ear.

For a moment, she lingered, her heart tightening as memories of a person resurfaced.

Madhavi's resemblance to her that person was uncanny, almost otherworldly. But she said nothing of this, only offering a faint smile before turning toward the door.

"Rest now," Sumithra said over her shoulder. "I'll have the kitchen prepare something for you."

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As the troops moved steadily toward the camp near the Narmada River, the rhythmic beat of horses' hooves accompanied Crown Prince Ereya and Dananjaya, who rode side by side at the front.

The golden glow of the morning sun highlighted their armor, and the crisp air carried the scent of earth and distant water.

Ereya broke the silence first, his tone light but sincere. "You've always been fearless, Dananjaya, but saving Pramila in the middle of such chaos...that was extraordinary. I owe you for that."

Dananjaya glanced at him briefly, his expression unreadable. "She's the queen, my lord. Protecting her is my duty." He added after a pause, "Besides, I couldn't let anyone else try to be the hero."

Ereya chuckled, not catching the subtle edge in his friend's voice. "True. No one does it quite like you. But honestly, Dananjaya, it's more than duty-you really outdid yourself."

Dananjaya's lips curved into a faint smile, but his eyes held a flicker of something deeper. "Well, if I'm to be remembered for something, I'd rather it be for keeping her safe than winning another skirmish."

Ereya raised an eyebrow. "You sound like you're half-joking."

Dananjaya smirked, his tone deceptively light. "Perhaps I am. Or perhaps I'm just testing how much the crown prince notices."

Ereya laughed, shaking his head. "You're impossible sometimes. Always speaking in riddles."

Dananjaya's gaze drifted forward, his smile now faint and wistful. "Riddles, maybe. But you'd be surprised how often riddles are just truths no one wants to hear."

Ereya frowned slightly but let the comment pass, dismissing it as one of Dananjaya's enigmatic musings. "Still, I'm glad you're here. There's no one I'd rather have by my side."

Dananjaya turned to him with a soft smile, his eyes momentarily shadowed. "Always, my lord. You know that."

Ereya nodded, satisfied, while Dananjaya's gaze shifted to the horizon.

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As Sumithra oversaw the preparation of a meal for Madhavi in the bustling kitchen, a maid rushed in, her face flushed with excitement. "Devi, the master has returned. Merchant Subadra is at the gates."

Sumithra straightened immediately, smoothing her sari and nodding in acknowledgment. "Prepare to welcome him," she instructed. "I'll meet him at the entrance."

She stepped out gracefully, her composure regal yet warm as she approached the grand entrance of the mansion. Subadra, a tall and imposing man with streaks of gray in his neatly tied hair and a wealth of experience etched into his face, descended from his gilded palanquin. He was surrounded by guards and attendants who moved with precision, a testament to his influence in the Kalachurii kingdom.

"Welcome home, my lord," Sumithra said with a respectful bow, her tone affectionate yet formal.

Subadra smiled faintly, his sharp eyes scanning her face. "Devi, you seem troubled. Is there something amiss?"

"Yes, my lord," she said. "I need to speak with you privately. There's a matter of importance I must share."

Subadra gestured for his attendants to disperse and followed her into the private chambers of their home. Once the doors were closed, Sumithra turned to him, her voice steady but tinged with urgency.

"A young woman collapsed at our doorstep today," she began, her hands clasped tightly in front of her. "She's resting now, but there's something... unusual about her."

Subadra raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "Unusual? In what way?"

"Her appearance," Sumithra said, her voice dropping to a near whisper. "Her face... her eyes... they remind me of someone. my lord"

Subadra leaned forward, his expression sharpening. "Who, Devi?"

Sumithra hesitated, her gaze flickering toward the window as if searching for the right words. Finally, she said, "She bears an uncanny resemblance to my... my late sister"

Subadra's brow furrowed deeply. "You mean..." He paused, his voice lowering. "Hemavathi... Devi, she died giving birth to our Princess!"

Sumithra nodded slowly, her voice trembling slightly. "Yes, my lord. I know it seems impossible, but when I saw her, I felt as if I were looking at my sister once more. The likeness is too striking to ignore."

Subadra leaned back, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. "Devi, this is a bold claim. If she truly resembles her, there may be consequences if word gets out. Are you certain of what you saw?"

Sumithra's eyes flashed with conviction. "I am certain, my lord. You must see the girl for yourself to understand what I mean. But there's also something else. She is pregnant."

Subadra stopped mid-stride, turning to face her fully. "Pregnant?"

"Yes," Sumithra confirmed. "She admitted it herself. She seemed scared and alone, as if she has no place to go"

"This is... extraordinary," he said slowly. "But is it truly possible, Devi? Devi Hamavathi died during birth of Princess, or so we believed. How could this young woman be connected to her?"

Sumithra sighed, her gaze distant. "I do not know, my lord. But when I look at her, it feels as though I am seeing my very own sister again. The resemblance is too striking to dismiss."

Subadra stroked his beard thoughtfully. "If what you say is true, then this changes many things. But before we speculate further, I must see her for myself."

Sumithra nodded, her expression resolute. "Yes, my lord. Please, go to her. You will understand what I mean."

Without further argument, Subadra rose and made his way toward the guest chambers where Madhavi was resting. As he approached, he signaled the maids to remain outside, preferring to enter alone.

When he stepped inside, his sharp eyes took in the young woman seated near the window. She had been gazing out at the garden, lost in thought, but turned abruptly at the sound of his footsteps.

Madhavi's natural beauty, her air of quiet grace despite her evident fatigue, struck Subadra immediately.

But it was her face-those familiar features, the shape of her eyes, the way her lips moved when she offered a polite but uncertain greeting-that left him momentarily speechless.

"You are Madhavi," Subadra said, his tone kind but probing.

She nodded hesitantly, rising to her feet. "Yes, Sir."

He studied her closely, his heart stirred by a strange combination of wonder and sorrow. "You must forgive me for intruding, but you remind me of someone dear to this household."

Madhavi shifted uncomfortably under his gaze. "The mistress said the same,Sir" she murmured.

Subadra smiled faintly. "She is not wrong. Tell me, child, where do you come from?"

Madhavi hesitated, her gaze dropping to the floor. "I do not know," she said quietly. "I am an orphan. I was raised in a little village near Narmada Valley, but I do not belong there either."

Subadra's eyes softened, though his mind raced with possibilities. Could it truly be that fate had brought this girl to their doorstep? That she was somehow connected to the sister they had lost so tragically?

He stepped closer, his voice gentle. "You are safe here, dear child. Whatever your journey, whatever your past, you are welcome in this home. Rest now, and we will speak more when you are ready."

Madhavi nodded, gratitude flickering in her tired eyes. Subadra turned and left the room, his expression unreadable as he rejoined Sumithra.

"Well?" she asked, her voice tinged with both hope and apprehension.

Subadra exhaled deeply, his hand running through his beard. "You are right, Devi. She is the very image of Queen Hemavathi. But there are too many unanswered questions. For now, let her recover. But we have to learn the truth soon"

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Unfortunaetly news reached Ereyas ear before his arrival.

Ereya stormed into the camp, his presence a thunderous shadow over the victorious air. The soldiers and commanders, ready to celebrate their triumph, froze as they caught sight of his blazing eyes. The air grew heavy, the tension palpable as Ereya's voice boomed across the camp.

"Sanjaya!"

The trembling aide stepped forward, his head bowed. "My lord."

"Where is Madhavi?" Ereya demanded, his voice sharp enough to cut steel.

Sanjaya hesitated, his gaze falling to the ground. "My lord... she is gone."

Ereya's hand shot out, grabbing Sanjaya's collar. "Gone?" he snarled, his grip tightening.

Sanjaya stammered, "Sh-she left during the night. We searched everywhere... but she vanished without a trace."

Ereya shoved Sanjaya away with a force that sent him stumbling. "You had one job!" His voice cracked with raw anger.

"My lord, we tried-"

Ereya cut him off, his shout resonating through the camp. "Enough!" His gaze swept the crowd that had gathered. "All of you-leave! This is not a spectacle for your entertainment. Go!"

The soldiers exchanged nervous glances before scattering, unwilling to risk the wrath of their crown prince.

Sanjaya stood frozen, his chest tight with guilt. Ereya's fury continued to mount, and he stormed toward Madhavi's tent.

When he entered, he found the remnants of her presence-the scent of her perfume still lingering, her scarf draped carelessly over the bed.

The sight sent Ereya over the edge. With a guttural scream, he began to destroy everything in sight. He overturned tables, smashed delicate pottery, and ripped apart the elegant tapestries. Finally, he grabbed a torch and set fire to the tent, the flames rising quickly and casting a fiery glow over the camp.

The soldiers outside watched in stunned silence, too afraid to intervene.

"Madhavi!" Ereya screamed, his voice raw and filled with anguish.

Sanjaya, still reeling from Ereya's fury, turned to see Dananjaya approaching.

The commander's face was set in a determined frown. "What in the gods' names is going on?" Dananjaya asked, his voice low and firm.

"Don't," Sanjaya said, stepping in front of him.

Dananjaya raised an eyebrow. "Don't? You expect me to stand here while he burns down half the camp?"

Sanjaya grabbed Dananjaya's arm. "Belive me, This isn't just rage, Sir Dananjaya. This is heartbreak. He's lost someone... someone important."

Dananjaya's eyes narrowed. "Who?"

"A young village girl called Madhavi. I think our crown prince fell in love with her. He intended to make her his second queen."

Dananjaya froze, his expression a mix of shock and disbelief. "Second queen? He... he's married. Pramila Devi-"

Sanjaya nodded, his voice heavy. "But this young girl didn't knew he was already married. When she learned about lady Pramila... you know!. I think that's why she left."

Dananjaya's jaw tightened as he processed the revelation. His thoughts briefly turned to Pramila, imagining the implications of Ereya's hidden plans. "You think that's the reason for her disappearance?"

Sanjaya nodded. "It's only my suspicion, but... she looked uneasy the last time we spoke, especially when the topic of lady Pramila came up."

Dananjaya ran a hand through his hair, his jaw tightening. "And you let this happen?"

"I didn't know until it was too late!" Sanjaya said, his voice tinged with guilt. "But now... now he's like this."

A loud crash echoed from the tent as Ereya's rage erupted again, sending splinters of wood flying into the night.

"I'm going in," Dananjaya said firmly.

Sanjaya shook his head. "No, Sir. Not yet. He's... unhinged."

"I've seen Ereya unhinged," Dananjaya replied coldly. "This isn't new."

Sanjaya hesitated but stepped aside, allowing Dananjaya to approach the tent.

Inside, Ereya was a whirlwind of destruction, his bloodied hands throwing chairs, smashing dishes, and ripping tapestries from the walls. Finally, he grabbed a torch and set fire to the wreckage.

"Madhavi!" he screamed, his voice a guttural wail.

Dananjaya entered the tent, his face grim. The flickering firelight illuminated Ereya's wild, almost unrecognizable expression. His lips curled into a feral smile as he turned to face Dananjaya.

"Come to join the bonfire, old friend?" Ereya asked, his voice a mix of mockery and despair.

Dananjaya's eyes narrowed. "Ereya, this madness needs to stop."

"Stop?" Ereya let out a hollow laugh. "Why should I stop, Dananjaya? The woman I love is gone. And do you know why?" He leaned in closer, his smile widening, almost maniacal. "Because of me. Because I couldn't give her the truth. The peace she deserved."

Dananjaya approached cautiously, his voice steady. "Burning everything down won't bring her back."

Ereya's wild smile faded, replaced by raw anguish "She thought I didn't care for anyone but myself. She thought I only saw her as another jewel in my crown. But she's wrong, Dananjaya. She was my solace, my hope. My everything... everything Danajaya. And now... she's gone."

Dananjaya stepped closer, placed a firm hand on Ereya's shoulder but before he could say some a war horn pierced through the camp, halting every conversation and movement. The air shifted with the weight of urgency.

Ereya, still reeling from the storm inside his heart, froze. His head snapped toward the direction of the sound, and in an instant, he stormed out of the ruined tent, Dananjaya following closely behind.

"Emergency horn," Dananjaya muttered as they mounted their horses. "What now?"

They galloped toward the camp gates, where a crowd of soldiers and officers had gathered in grim silence. Ereya dismounted swiftly, pushing through the throng to the front.

The sight before him was like a blow to his chest.

A horse stood there, its flanks heaving from exhaustion, but it was the ghastly burden it carried that turned every face pale. Tied to the saddle was a headless corpse, bloodstained and mutilated.

A gasp rippled through the onlookers. Murmurs of disgust and fear filled the air.

Ereya's jaw clenched. His breath came in ragged gasps as his sharp eyes scanned the scene. "Who is this?" he demanded, his voice like the growl of a tiger.

Commander Ravikretti stepped forward hesitantly, holding a scroll that had been tied to the corpse. His hands trembled as he unfurled it.

"Well?" Ereya barked. "What does it say?"

Ravikretti swallowed hard. His voice trembled as he read aloud: "This is Nanda. Your scout and messenger, whom we intercepted. He has paid for daring to step into our lands."

Ereya's fists clenched. A low growl escaped his throat.

But Ravikretti wasn't finished. His face grew even paler as his eyes skimmed the rest of the note.

"My lord..." Ravikretti hesitated, his hands shaking.

"What is it?" Ereya snapped. "Speak!"

The commander's voice cracked as he continued, "Prince Vishnuvardana... your brother.. brother.  My lord this says he is dead."

The words hit like thunder.

Ereya's face contorted in disbelief. "What?!" he roared, grabbing Ravikretti by the collar. "You lie! Vishnuvardana cannot be dead!"

Ravikretti stammered, his voice quivering, "My lord, the note claims... they ambushed him. He fought valiantly, but... they took his life."

Ereya staggered back, his grip loosening. The strength seemed to drain from his body as the weight of the words sank in.

The soldiers murmured among themselves, their unease growing. Many refused to believe it, shaking their heads in denial.

Dananjaya stepped closer, his hand hovering over Ereya's shoulder but hesitating. "Ereya..." he began softly.

As the words sunk in, Ereya's body shook with unrestrained fury. His breaths turned into growls, his eyes blazing like embers in a storm. His hand shot out, shoving Ravikretti backward.

"You cowards!" he bellowed, his voice a thunderclap that silenced the murmurs around him. "You ambushed my brother? Took him like a thief in the night because you couldn't face him in the light of day?"

Ereya turned his gaze toward the horizon, his face a mask of rage and despair. His voice cracked as he roared to the heavens, "Buddharaja! Do you hear me?"

The soldiers and commanders flinched, watching their prince erupt in fury like a tempest.

"If Vishnu is truly dead..." Ereya's voice dropped to a dangerous growl, thick with menace. He clenched his fists so tightly that blood trickled from his palms. "If you have taken my brother from me, I swear on my ancestors, I swear on the blood of the Chalukyas, I will burn your kingdom to the ground!"

His voice rose again, reverberating through the camp like a war drum. "I will crush your armies, shatter your palaces, and turn your people into ash. Buddharaja, you will know no peace, no safety, no salvation! I will destroy everything you hold dear, and you will crawl on your knees begging for death!"

He turned to the crowd, his chest heaving as his fury radiated like a furnace. "Tonight, we march! We will not wait, we will not rest! Prepare yourselves! We take the Kalachuri lands, inch by bloody inch, until every stone of their kingdom is ours!"

The soldiers, galvanized by the prince's fiery words, began to shout in unison, their cries of anger and determination rising like a tidal wave.

Dananjaya stepped forward, his face tense as he placed a firm hand on Ereya's shoulder. "Ereya," he said in a low voice, trying to steady him, "vengeance can drive a man mad and well you had too much for today. Think clearly-your brother would want justice, not blind fury."

Ereya spun to face Dananjaya, his face twisted in rage. But when he saw his closest friend, the wild fire in his eyes dimmed-only slightly. "Justice?" Ereya spat the word like venom. "Justice is for the gods. My brother deserves vengeance, Dananjaya, and I will deliver it with my own hands!"