"It is often the plainest of all that has the greatest valor" – the prince who died young.

The swords of the sunanda's clan were deadly and of excellent workmanship. Many of them were ambidextrous and fought with twin blades. But none could compare with the iron hilt fashioned as tiger's head specific for each hand swords of vispala's. It stands as a testimony to exemplary metallurgy without rusting through the ages with no maintenance what so ever.

Sunanda's serpent swords gets mentioned in many artifacts and equally famed as her sister's but it is believed to be lost - Chief archeologist ASI.

The sayas raced towards the fortress swiftly; they couldn't afford any losses to their very meager numbers. Any loss or incapacitation reduced their chance of victory drastically. They could now see the fast approaching sungas. Vrishaba and Asi raced towards the gates along with the others; vishpala, with a twist of her sword decapitated the last man's head, and looked at the new reinforcements. The ramsingha heralded their arrival; the dawn had shown the new reinforcements what had happened to their comrades and spurred them to come after the fleeing sayas; and after all, with their greater numbers they could afford to lose a few of their soldiers.

It was now a foot race between the two sides. The sayas had be inside safely; the sungas had their horsemen in the front of their army, which gave the sayas a sizeable advantage as the archers were quite behind and the few uncoordinated arrows which whistled past them made no difference as most of the sayas entered the narrow lane to the fortress and were in within few shanams.

Vishpala was one of the last few sayas remaining on the field. She whistled and her horse sukiviradha flew to her; she caught the bridle of the running horse and hoisted herself on to him and raced across the narrow lane flanked on both sides with deep spike filled pits, when a huge burning rock came hurtling down towards her. Sukiviradha was a blur in his speed. He flew as swift as the wind carrying his mistress and veered to avoid the burning rock; the rock sailed past them and fell just ahead, making a huge chasm on the already narrow lane. The impact of the burning boulder on the spikes resulted in jettisoning a loose spike which pierced sukivridha's flank.

Sukivirdha threw his mistress off the saddle and fell in to pit to be impaled on the spikes. A dazed vishpala got up and ran to the edge towards the neighs of pain. Sukivirdha was still alive dying painfully. This horse had been with her through many painful days; and sometimes even one's sister could never quench the pain of a barren womb. Losing a child was worse; but losing two was an unbearable pain no mother should know. Sukiviradha had been a soothing balm; and now he was dying. She took a throwing knife and did the only thing a true blood sibling would do; for he was no less.

"Sleep well my loyal friend. May you run free in eternal sunshine and green meadows;"and threw her knife. The knife struck sukiviradha's eyes penetrating his skull killing him instantly. She saw vrishaba turning to come back; "Go back vrishaba!" she shouted. "Asi, I order you to keep him in." she will not sacrifice anyone else with her; it wasn't practical.... She turned unsheathing her swords and faced the massive sunga sena alone.

Another burning rock came hurtling towards her; when a loaded arrow whistled past her and met the rock in mid air causing an explosion. The rock exploded to pieces as vishpala ran towards a fallen shield, sheathing her swords; she somersaulted to reach it and raised it against the rock rain to shield her from any incapacitating injury. All these happened within few shanams but actually seemed a lifetime in reality

The catapults were getting ready. Visha kept on moving backwards inching her way towards the entrance. The sunga cavalry was closing in on her, when arrows flew from the fortress towards the cavalry taking many down. With the incoming arrows, visha continued running and reached the bridge on the moat. She looked up and made hand signs; on her signal the bridge creaked and with a groaning sound began to submerge. Four men of the sunga cavalry followed her on to the bridge, but the others reined in their horses before they could fall in to the moat. The bridge was submerging rapidly. The makarati thrashed and moved restlessly in anticipation of a hearty meal. The horses pounded after her as she ran towards the closed gateway. The bridge was now just a Muzham short of full submersion. Visha kept to the middle of the bridge; the horsemen were not so wise. In the heat of the chase, they forgot the basic fact that the water wasn't safe and that makarati could jump.

Two horsemen raced abreast on the bridge, when a makarati jumped and caught the horse on the left, the momentum threw the makarati back into the water, taking a chunk of the horse. The horse fell with its rider giving a resounding neigh in to the water. The water turned bloody as the horse lost its innards in the water. Then it was a matter of shanams for the makaratis to finish it off. The rider was armored; he couldn't swim with the heavy weight. The armor was strong; it protected his chest, but not his arms and legs. They tore it off him with their death roll; and he died from shock due to blood loss before he could drown in his own blood filled water.

Many makarati entered the bridge now; the horsemen tried to trample them. One impaled a makarati with his spear, but it was a losing battle; there were just too many off them. The makarati were swarming the sinking bridge and soon the horsemen fell into the bloody water as the horses came down. Visha kept on running, a makarati landed before her; she never stopped, as she leapt over its head missing its gaping jaws by a viral. Winded from her jump, she couldn't do anything about the tail which smashed her to the fortress wall.

Visha's back crunched; it was as if she was hit by a battering ram. She vomited blood as she clutched her stomach. "Move!" she thought to herself as the makarati turned; water was now up to her waist as she was sitting. Well, there were many ways of dying; with a heave she pushed herself up. The makarati charged with its mouth wide open and lost its head. The two serpent blades went back to their sheath. A slightly battered sunanda pulled her closer, "Up!" she commanded; and they were gone in a whirl as the pulleys pulled them up.

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Hi everyone!

Soooooo sorry for the delay. Hope you love this chapter. Let me know your views about it. Your comments and votes are a great encouragement. So if you like it please vote.

Muzham – ancient measurement of length. 1 muzham = 46.6666 c.m

Viral [ve / ral] - ancient measurement of length. 1 viral = 1.9444 c.m

Indians were excellent craftsmen and their metal works untouchable. Did you know that the French spend a lot in maintaining the Eiffel tower? Well our saranath sanchi stupa is quiet older than that and it has not rusted at all. The only maintenance is dusting it.

Expect for yojana which changes from period to period, the other measurements are actually ancient tamil measurements which are precise and most of them still in use. So I have taken poetic license to embellish the north sector with measurements from the south. Kindly excuse this.

The main picture is that of a moat, in India. vellore fort.