Dhruva Nakshathra - The Game of Alliance ✔

TWO - a

Mahina, the capital city of Durja

Several horses galloped through the High Road sending clouds of sand in their wake. Dhruva, at the front of the troop stirred his horse to the shanty part of the city, Nanthir, leading the rest. The news from the squalid district often never made it to palace and if it did, that will be an old news by then. Lucky for him, he had several kshetrapala, the local guards to share him the news that needs the palace's immediate attention.

The new report from the kshetrapala was the last thing he feared to happen. At once, he summoned for his horse and charged towards Nanthir, a part of Durja neglected by the administration. For the past few years since he had been crowned as the next in line to the throne, Dhruva had been meticulously involved in attempts to upgrade the lives of the people in the shanty towns of the city. He had promised them to bring their petitions to the court, to bring light to their lives.

He nudged his horse to speed up, tear trickled down his cheeks, he had to see them, those he had wronged. To see his failure, to see what his unfulfilled promise had done to him and the people who believed him. Abandoning their mounts at the front, Dhruva and his guards entered the narrow path of the slum disregarding the pools of muddy water and wet cloths hang on their way. Minutes later, they came to a halt where the entire slum gathered.

Nanthir was grieving for the loss of two families. Seven of them, who were verbally abused by the nagarapalas, the city guards for simply refusing to adhere to the new addition of tax set by the finance minister. A burden added to their mountain of tribulation that had finally pushed them take their lives.

Dhruva's presences at the mourning ground had amplified the cries of the folks in the slum. Each one wailed as they lamented over the deceased. There laid the dead, a prove of his failure to fulfil his promise. Dhruva and his guards paid their last respect, before pulling themselves out of the crowd with one of the elders in tow.

"Those nagarapalas were heinous this time, son," said the elder. "You need to appeal on our behalf once again. Implying heavy taxes on us poor isn't fair when our daily wages is just enough for two meals a day for a family of four," he added.

Dhruva knew how much it might mean to them if just one tax out of three were abolished. Having spent most his days in Nanthir and other slums, he was well aware of the discriminatory treatment given by the guards working under the ministers, landlords and noblemen. As a young man from the royal house, Dhruva would warn them to behave and the warning only sustain as long as he was there—a futile effort.

"I will fight for you until your voices are heard. I'll make sure it happens this year." Dhruva left with yet another promise.

"You need to help us. If not you then who will. No one here cares for poor people like us, no one bothers to understand us."

The plea of the helpless people from the shanty parts of the city rang in his ears ever since the year's pilgrimage season had begun. Their cries grew louder in the back of his mind even more after the death of the seven people. What can he do when every suggestion of his gets disregarded nonetheless by the queen?

"Tomorrow is my last opportunity for the year," Dhruva mumbled to himself as he left Nanthir in the day's dusk.

**-*-*-**-*-*

The natural light spill through the high windows of the huge and lofty council chamber. The tall windows ran along one side of the wall served as a perfect ventilator during the humid day. At the centre, a long bronze table dominated the space, its surface engraved with two war elephants of Durja in an invincible combat. The complex artwork spread the breadth of the table, along which some high chairs were arranged. The table were occupied by the crown prince, royal advisors and ministers, the king and the queen of Durja seated at the head of the table, side by side. Gentle breeze of the east kept the room cool as the heated discussion were in progress.