As the first light of dawn crept over the valley, the rebel camp stirred with quiet urgency. Weapons were sharpened, arrows were counted, and warriors moved like shadows, their eyes hardened with purpose.
Shivudu stood near a makeshift armory, strapping a leather chest plate over his shoulders. The cool metal of a newly forged sword rested in his grip, its weight unfamiliar but thrilling.
Avantika approached, her gaze flickering over him. "You're still free to walk away."
Shivudu smirked. "Not a chance."
She studied him for a moment longer, then nodded. "Then listen carefully. We strike at sunset. The city gates are heavily guarded, but there's a hidden passage near the eastern wall—one that leads into the heart of the fortress."
"The queen is inside?" Shivudu asked.
"Not just inside," she said grimly. "She's in the royal courtyard, shackled in chains, displayed like a trophy for all to see. Bhallaladeva keeps her there to remind the people of his rule."
Shivudu's grip tightened around his sword.
"Tonight," Avantika continued, "we end that."
The Infiltration
As the sun dipped below the horizon, the rebels moved. Cloaked in darkness, they advanced through the dense jungle surrounding Mahishmati. The city's massive walls loomed ahead, patrolled by rows of armored guards wielding torches.
Shivudu followed closely behind Avantika and the others, his pulse steady despite the weight of the moment. He had trained with them for the past day, learning their formations, their tactics. But nothing could prepare him for the reality of sneaking into an enemy stronghold.
Near the eastern wall, a narrow tunnel lay hidden beneath a cluster of boulders. One by one, the rebels slipped inside, moving swiftly through the damp underground passage. Shivudu felt the cold earth beneath his fingers as he crawled forward, the sound of his own breath echoing in the narrow space.
Then, after what felt like an eternity, they emerged inside the city.
The City of Chains
Mahishmati was unlike anything Shivudu had imagined. Grand structures of stone and gold stretched toward the sky, adorned with massive carvings of warriors and kings. But beneath the city's beauty lay its suffering.
Men and women in ragged clothes toiled under the harsh gaze of soldiers, their backs bent beneath the weight of heavy stones. Others carried golden bricks toward the base of a colossal statue—the statue of Bhallaladeva, still under construction, its massive form towering over the city.
Shivudu clenched his jaw. This was the so-called greatness of Mahishmati? A kingdom built on the suffering of its own people?
Avantika's whisper brought him back. "We split here. I take my team toward the western watchtower to draw attention. You go with Kattappa's men toward the courtyard."
"Kattappa?" Shivudu turned to see an older man clad in dark armor, his sharp eyes studying him.
"This is not a simple battle," Kattappa said. "If we fail, Devasena dies. Stay close, and do exactly as I say."
Shivudu nodded. "Understood."
The Queen in Chains
They moved swiftly, sticking to the shadows as they neared the royal courtyard. The sight before them sent a chill through Shivudu.
There, in the center of the courtyard, stood a raised platform. Chains rattled as the wind blew, and bound within them was a woman.
Devasena.
Her hair was streaked with silver, her face lined with years of suffering, yet she stood tall, her gaze unwavering as she stared at the massive throne beyond her.
And upon that throne sat Bhallaladeva.
His golden armor gleamed under the torches, his massive frame radiating power. He leaned back lazily, watching as his men stood guard around the courtyard.
Kattappa signaled the rebels to move into position. The time had come.
Shivudu gripped his sword.
Tonight, Mahishmati would tremble.