The Aryavarta Chronicles Kurukshetra: Book 3 Read Free

became clear that the limp figure between them was a woman and had been a recent recipient of their violence in ways unique to her gender. Her garments were in tatters, tears and stains showing where her captors had grabbed and pawed at her, and her face was bruised, as if she had been slapped over and over. With a grunt of disdain, the two mercenaries threw her on the floor in the middle of the room. One of them spoke to the other in their native tongue, pointing to the chain that was suspended from the ceiling. The second mercenary waved off the idea and kicked the woman once in the stomach before leaving the room. His companion threw a toothy grin at the waiting men before following him out. Clearly, they judged their prisoner to be incapable of escape.
    ‘Well?’ Suka asked, staring at the woman before them.
    Sanjaya said, ‘I cannot say. I have met the Yavana woman before, when she came on a diplomatic visit to Hastina. But I cannot tell if this…creature…before us is indeed her.’
    Suka looked as though he had a harsh response, but before he could say a word Devala’s voice cut through the room. ‘You! Woman! Is your name Philista?’
    The sound of her name invoked life in the insentient woman. Slowly, she pulled herself up onto her knees. Her hands, bruised and cut, came up in a weak bid to push her grime-stained hair back to reveal bright blue eyes. Eyes, Sanjaya noted, that would have been attractive but for the way they were now swollen and bloodshot.
    ‘Are you Philista?’ Devala barked, apparently unaffected by the utter destruction of the woman before him.
    ‘Yes,’ she said, the word indistinct through her swollen lips. ‘
    Speak up!’
    Her voice came again, louder but also harsher for the effort. ‘I…I am Philista.’
    ‘We have some questions for you. Answer truthfully, and we will help you. Tell us the whole truth, and we can get you out of here. But be warned, a single lie, and wild boars will feast on your flesh this very night.’
    ‘Many…’ she began, faltering as blood and saliva dribbled out the side of her slack, most likely broken, jaw. She looked down at the red slime, as though realizing for the first time her state of existence beyond the pain she had most certainly endured. It seemed to give her an unexpected strength. She spoke again, patiently enunciating the words into coherence. ‘Many have feasted on my flesh already. I…I doubt there is much left for the boars. And speaking of pigs…’ She turned to Sanjaya, her swollen eyes filling with recognition, and then again to Devala. ‘Devala…and Sanjaya Gavalgani of the Kurus…I know you… But your scholarly companion…is not someone I recognize.’ A question formed in her pained frown as her eyes shifted to the ochre-clad Acharya.
    Suka did not hesitate. ‘My name is Sukadeva. I am the son of Krishna Dwaipayana of the line of Vasishta Varuni.’
    ‘Aah, the future V…Vyasa of the Firstborn. Fills my heart to see you alongside two Firewrights…’ She laughed with a rasp, blood and dribble spraying from her mouth. ‘Oh yes, I know their true identity… So, what… is it I can do for you es…esteemed noblemen?’
    Devala made to answer, but Suka raised a restraining hand. He said, in a voice as mild as Devala’s had been vicious, ‘Govinda Shauri.’
    The sheer mention of the name had a palpable effect. Devala’s lips curled with malice and Sanjaya swallowed back the rising bile. Philista smiled. ‘And what has he done now?’ she said, her voice softening as though a mother were asking about her truant child.
    ‘He is coming here. Even as we speak, he enters the city.’
    ‘Here?’ A distant look filled Philista’s eyes. ‘Where is this place? Where am I?’
    ‘Do you not know?’
    ‘No. I was…taken captive as I was heading north from Dwaraka towards a bay…where…where my ship awaited me.’ Her voice once again found strength as she remembered the torment she had suffered. ‘They…they