Mahabharat: Shiva's Last Variable
Chapter 200 - 198: Deadweight Should Be Eliminated... Mysterious Whistle...
(A/N):
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Guys I hope you put more comments and power stones... Which will encourage me...
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The underground chamber gradually grew quiet.
The wounded men had finished tending to their injuries, while a few others stood guard near the entrance of the hidden passage.
No one spoke much.
They were waiting.
Their leader stood with his arms folded, occasionally glancing toward the unconscious Princess Indhumati and the young royal child lying nearby.
The princess had been bound securely, though her breathing remained steady.
The blow she had received earlier had merely rendered her unconscious.
Time passed slowly.
Then...
One of the sentries suddenly raised his hand.
"They’re here."
Immediately, everyone inside the chamber reached for their weapons.
The leader’s expression hardened.
From the long tunnel leading into the hideout came the sound of steady footsteps.
Not hurried. Not cautious.
Whoever was approaching walked as though they had every right to be there.
A few moments later, nearly twenty figures emerged from the darkness.
Unlike the masked men, these newcomers wore rough garments stitched from animal hide and coarse cloth.
Their bodies bore tribal tattoos, and necklaces made from bones and carved wooden beads hung around their necks.
Several carried heavy axes, while others held long spears decorated with strange charms tied beneath the blades.
The moment they entered the chamber...
Both groups instinctively raised their weapons.
Steel met steel.
Spears lowered.
Axes tightened in their owners’ grips.
The atmosphere instantly became tense.
Neither side trusted the other.
Even though they supposedly served the same master, both understood one simple truth.
A single mistake could turn allies into enemies.
For several long moments, neither group moved.
The silence was broken only by the crackling of the torches burning along the walls.
"...."
"...."
"...."
Finally...
One man stepped forward from among the twenty tribesmen.
He appeared to be in his early forties, broad-shouldered and weathered by years of surviving in the wilderness.
A thick scar ran across his jaw, disappearing beneath his beard.
Unlike the others, he carried no shield. Only a long spear rested in his hand.
He stopped a few paces away from the masked leader.
Neither greeted the other.
Neither lowered his weapon.
Instead, the tribesman spoke a single word.
"Bear."
Nothing more.
Just one word.
The masked leader’s eyes narrowed for a brief moment.
Then...
The tension in his shoulders disappeared.
He slowly lowered his sword.
Behind him, the rest of the masked men followed suit.
The leader gave a small nod.
"The password is correct."
That single word had been given to them weeks earlier by the only person they answered to within the kingdom.
The Mahamantri.
His instructions had been simple.
"Another group will arrive after the mission. They will identify themselves with the agreed password."
"If they say the word ’Bear’..."
"Do not ask questions. Do not delay."
"Hand over the princess immediately."
"Then return by the route you came."
"Do not follow them. Do not look back. The less you know, the longer you live."
At the time, the order had seemed unnecessarily secretive.
Now, standing face to face with the tribesmen, the masked leader finally understood why.
Whatever came next...
It wasn’t meant for his eyes.
He turned toward two of his men.
"Bring the princess."
The two carefully lifted the unconscious Indhumati and carried her toward the waiting tribesmen.
The child remained where he was.
The tribesman frowned.
"The boy?"
The masked leader shook his head.
"Our orders concerned only the princess."
"The child is merely insurance."
The tribesman stared at him for a moment before giving a slow nod.
He did not argue.
As soon as Princess Indhumati was transferred into their custody, two tribesmen secured her over their shoulders with surprising care, ensuring she would not fall during the journey.
The exchange had been completed without another word.
The masked leader took a single step backward.
"Our task ends here."
The scarred tribesman answered calmly.
"And ours begins."
Remembering the Mahamantri’s instructions, the masked leader immediately gestured toward his men.
"We’re leaving."
None of the masked men looked toward the princess again.
None asked where the tribesmen intended to take her.
One by one, they turned around and began walking back through the tunnel they had originally used.
Even when they heard the tribesmen moving in the opposite direction...
They never once looked over their shoulders.
Deep inside, each of them understood.
Sometimes...
Knowing less was the safest way to survive.
As the sound of their footsteps gradually faded into the darkness, the scarred tribesman watched until the last of the masked men disappeared from sight.
Only then did he slowly turn toward Princess Indhumati.
His stern expression softened into one of quiet satisfaction.
"The first part of Lord Pushpasura’s command..."
he murmured under his breath,
"...has been fulfilled."
Without wasting another moment, he raised his spear and pointed toward a different tunnel branching deeper beneath the Flower Forest.
"Move."
"We don’t have much time."
The twenty tribesmen immediately obeyed, disappearing into the depths of the underground passages with the unconscious princess, leaving behind only the flickering torchlight and an eerie silence.
"...."
"...."
"...."
Deep beneath the Flower Forest, the underground passage stretched endlessly through the darkness.
The narrow tunnel twisted and turned like the roots of an ancient tree.
Water occasionally dripped from the ceiling, creating a slow rhythm that echoed through the cavern.
Torches fixed to the walls cast dancing shadows that made the rough stone appear alive.
The twenty tribesmen moved through the tunnels with practiced ease.
It was obvious this was not their first time using these hidden passages.
Some walked ahead, carefully checking every turn.
Others guarded the rear.
The remaining warriors surrounded the center of the formation.
There, suspended from a long wooden pole resting upon the shoulders of two sturdy tribesmen, hung Princess Indhumati.
Her wrists and ankles had been tightly bound with thick ropes before being secured to the pole so she couldn’t struggle even if she woke up.
To anyone looking at her...
She still appeared unconscious.
But that wasn’t entirely true.
A faint groan escaped her lips.
Her eyelids twitched.
Slowly... Very slowly...
Consciousness returned.
"...."
The first thing she felt was the dull pain at the back of her head where she had been struck inside the royal pavilion.
A throbbing ache spread across her skull, making her wince inwardly.
’Where... Am I?’
She resisted the urge to open her eyes immediately.
Instead, she allowed herself to remain perfectly still.
Years of training under the royal instructors had taught her something important.
A captive who woke too early often lost the chance to learn valuable information.
Keeping her breathing slow and steady, she carefully opened her eyes just enough to see through her eyelashes.
Her vision was blurry at first.
The flickering torchlight slowly came into focus.
Rough stone walls.
A narrow underground tunnel.
Strange symbols carved into the rock.
Then she realized... She wasn’t walking.
She was being carried.
Her body had been tied securely to a long wooden pole balanced across the shoulders of two tribesmen.
She discreetly tested the ropes around her wrists.
They didn’t budge.
’Tightly tied...’
She remained completely limp.
Pretending to still be unconscious.
The men carrying her hadn’t noticed.
Good.
Her attention shifted toward the conversation taking place a few steps ahead.
"...What about the brat?"
One of the tribesmen jerked his thumb toward the young royal child who was being dragged along by another pair of men.
The boy remained unconscious, his head hanging limply to one side.
Another tribesman shrugged.
"He’s only slowing us down. We were ordered to bring the princess."
"Not him."
A third man snorted.
"I say we slit his throat now."
"One less witness."
Several others nodded in agreement.
"He’ll only become trouble later."
"We’re wasting time carrying dead weight."
One of the younger tribesmen looked uncertain.
"But... wasn’t he taken as insurance?"
The older warrior beside him spat onto the ground.
"That was the masked men’s idea."
"Our orders came from the Chief."
"The princess is important."
"The child isn’t."
Another voice joined the discussion.
"Once we’re farther inside... kill him."
"No blood near the entrance."
"We don’t want anyone tracking us."
A few men chuckled darkly.
Princess Indhumati felt her stomach tighten.
She fought hard to keep her breathing steady.
The child... They intended to kill him.
Her fingers instinctively curled against the ropes binding her wrists.
’No... I have to do something.’
But she forced herself to remain still.
Not yet.
If she acted now...
She would be surrounded by twenty armed warriors inside an unfamiliar tunnel.
She needed information first.
One of the tribesmen walking near the front lowered his voice.
"I still don’t understand."
"Why is she so important?"
The scarred warrior leading the group glanced back.
"You ask too many questions."
"I’m only curious."
The leader remained silent for several steps before finally answering.
"Our Lord requested her personally."
"That is all you need to know."
The younger man frowned.
"But why?"
The scarred warrior stopped walking.
The entire group halted behind him.
He slowly turned.
His cold gaze swept across every tribesman.
"Our duty ...is to obey."
"Not to question."
"If Lord Pushpasura desires the princess... then we deliver the princess."
"If he commands us to offer our own lives..."
"...we offer them."
"That is the oath every one of us swore."
The younger warrior immediately lowered his head.
"My apologies."
The leader resumed walking.
"So long as we fulfill His command... our reward is certain."
Princess Indhumati silently absorbed every word.
’Pushpasura... Who was it?’
She had heard that name once before.
An ancient Asura.
A being sealed long ago by Lord Vishnu according to old legends.
’Are they truly trying to awaken him?’
Another thought immediately followed.
’Then the merchant...’
She remembered Devara’s calm expression earlier that day.
The strange confidence he always carried.
For some reason...
The image of his smiling face appeared in her mind at the most unexpected moment.
’Merchant Deva... Why am I remembering his annoying face?’
’I hope... Some body soon finds my location and saves me.’
She quickly shook the thought away.
’No. I can’t rely on someone else. Father taught me better than that.’
She slowly began testing the ropes again.
Not enough to alert her captors.
Just enough to learn where they were weakest.
The knots were tight. Very tight.
But...
Not impossible.
A faint smile almost appeared on her lips before she hid it once more.
’Keep talking... Keep underestimating me...’
’The moment an opportunity appears... I’ll make sure every one of you regrets kidnapping a princess trained by warriors.’
A heavy silence suddenly settled over the underground passage.
"...."
"...."
"...."
The tribesmen who had been arguing about the fate of the young boy gradually fell quiet.
One after another, they instinctively tightened their grips around their weapons.
Even the scarred leader raised a hand, signaling everyone to stop.
The entire procession came to a halt.
The only sounds that remained were the faint crackling of the torches and the occasional drops of water falling from the cave ceiling.
Drip...
Drip...
Drip...
No one spoke.
Something... Something felt wrong.
The leader slowly scanned the tunnel ahead before turning to look behind them. The passage remained empty in both directions.
"Did anyone hear that?"
One of the younger tribesmen whispered.
"Hear what?"
Before he could answer...
A soft whistle drifted through the tunnel.
It wasn’t loud.
Nor was it sharp enough to startle anyone.
Instead, it carried an oddly pleasant melody, almost like a shepherd lazily passing time while walking through a meadow.
Fweee...
Fwee... fwee...
The sound echoed through the stone passage, bouncing from one wall to another until it became impossible to tell where it had originated.
The tribesmen immediately turned in different directions.
"There!"
"No... it came from behind us."
"You fool, it’s from the left."
Another whistle followed.
This time it seemed to come from directly above them.
Every head snapped upward.
Nothing.
Only rough stone and hanging roots greeted their eyes.
Princess Indhumati, who had continued pretending to be unconscious, slowly opened her eyes the tiniest fraction.
’Whistling...?’
Her sharp ears caught the strange tune as well.
Unlike the frightened tribesmen, she remained perfectly still, quietly observing their reactions.
The melody returned.
Fweee...
Fwee...
It was almost playful.
As though whoever was producing it wasn’t hiding...
But entertaining themselves.
One of the tribesmen swallowed nervously.
"Is... is someone following us? No one could have found this tunnel."
Another man gripped his axe tighter.
"Then where’s that sound coming from?"
The scarred leader frowned.
"Spread out."
"Watch every direction."
Immediately, the warriors formed a defensive circle around Princess Indhumati and the unconscious child.
Their eyes darted between the intersecting tunnels, searching every patch of darkness.
Again...
The whistle came.
This time it sounded much closer.
So close that several men instinctively spun around with their weapons raised.
Nothing.
Only flickering torchlight.
One of the older tribesmen muttered under his breath,
"I don’t like this..."
Another forced out a laugh.
"Perhaps one of the cave birds."
The elder shook his head immediately.
"Fool... No bird whistles like that underground."
Silence returned.
"...."
"...."
"...."
Then... A small pebble rolled across the stone floor.
Tick...
Tick...
Tick...
Every warrior’s attention shifted toward it.
The pebble came to a stop.
Nothing happened.
The tribesmen remained frozen.
The scarred leader narrowed his eyes.
"Who’s there?"
His voice echoed through the passage.
No reply came.
Instead...
The mysterious whistling resumed.
Only now...
It sounded almost amused.
As though the unseen figure had heard the question...
...and deliberately refused to answer.
Princess Indhumati’s heartbeat quickened.
For reasons she couldn’t explain...
The melody felt strangely soothing to her.
She searched her memory.
Then, without warning, a certain image appeared in her mind.
A young merchant with calm green eyes.
A carefree smile.
She don’t know why she was remembering him again.
Always speaking as though the entire world existed solely for his amusement.
She immediately dismissed the thought.
’No... It can’t be him. He’s just a merchant. How can he come here.... But why was she hoping it should be him... who saves her.’
Yet...
For some reason...
She couldn’t stop herself from listening more carefully to the cheerful whistle echoing through the darkness.
Ahead of the group, one of the torches suddenly flickered.
Then another.
A cold breeze swept through the underground tunnel, causing every flame to lean in the same direction.
The scarred leader slowly raised his spear.
"Whoever you are... Show yourself."
His voice disappeared into the darkness.
For a heartbeat...
Nothing happened.
Then, from somewhere deep within the winding tunnels...
The whistle stopped.
"...."
"...."
"...."
Absolute silence returned.
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(Author note:)
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Guys I have a new fic which named: Karuppan: King of Openings.