A Heart of Gold

Chapter 14: Cart Tracks on a Forest Road

Behold me keeping my word! Hah!

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Dear, dear Surya!

Radheya breathed in the acrid smoke permeating the air around him, and the nascent, excruciating panic that came with it. There was a crash, followed by a woman's scream. Crouching down even further, and flattening himself against the ground, Radheya wondered why he was swearing at Surya of all people. Hadn't he helped him?

A small explosion rocked the ground, made it tremble. From his vantage point behind a closed shop, Radheya watched the village on fire, and the burning hay of cottage-tops swaying in their fiery orangish glory. He had stepped into it little after the second prahar, and immediately regretted it. Apparently, nowadays, dacoits did not even bother to wait for the shroud of the night to rob villages. A horse galloped past in front of the shop he was hiding behind, and Radheya immediately noted the uniform of the rider.

Good. Whatever region this was, its local governor had finally decided to send his men. How very kind!

A whoosh of air startled him, and Radheya lifted his bow as he spun around, arrow nocked onto it, ready to take down whichever fool had decided to creep up on him.

But there was no threat, only a little girl, no older than six years, looking up at him with huge, brown eyes and a crumpling posture radiating terror. Radheya swore colorfully under his breath, using all the words he had learnt from the rude, churlish man at the inn the previous day. Then slowly, so as not to scare the child, he patted the ground beside him, pointed outside, and mouthed, "Big bad there. Shh!" The girl thankfully understood that, and she settled beside him, her insurmountable fear making her go rigid. Radheya sighed, either out of relief, or exasperation.

His questionable relief, however, was short-lived. There was the clip-clop of hooves and the undeniable sound of at least four voices coming towards them. In truth, Radheya had nothing to fear. He still had no money, and he doubted that a boy as young as him would be useful to the robbers. He did not think the girl had anything to fear either, unless she had a parent out there - which she most likely did - in which case she could be used as leverage. But she had chosen to hide by him, and Radheya felt, for whatever reason, responsible for her protection. He tensed further, ready for a fight or flight reaction, but the horses stopped. The voices did not.

And thrice cursed Surya, he could hear them!

(Why was he cursing Surya?)

Radheya peeked in front of the shop. A dark, mustachioed man with rippling muscles and unfriendly eyes was smirking at who appeared to be the guards' captain. It was clear what would happen. Dacoits would not run as soon as the guards came. No, they would fight to claim their prize.

Radheya wondered why he had bothered to get up that day.

And then, there were no more words, only the clang of metals ringing in the air, and the adrenaline pumped shouts that accompany such endeavours. Radheya could only watch in open-mouthed awe as the two quarries danced around each other, swinging their swords in lightning-quick arcs, their untamed hair playing truant in the winter breeze. This was the finesse he sought, the skill he craved, the grace he desired. And though the fight quickly tilted in the uniformed captain's favour, and the dacoits' shouts of "Har Har Mahadev" retreated rapidly to the other side of the village, tailed by the bold (and reckless) guards, Radheya felt oddly excited, as if he had fought (and won).