The Guardians of the Halahala Read Free

chin toward the western horizon. “They have grown old pushing the Huna and Saka hordes back into the Great Desert. Don’t you forget that!”
    A stiff silence followed, broken by the youngest in the group – a reedy lad not a day older than twenty.
    â€œIt must have been something... driving the invaders out of Sindhuvarta.” He looked wistfully at the last sliver of the dying sun. “I sometimes wish I was born a decade earlier. Then, perhaps...”
    As the boy’s voice trailed off, the captain sized him up, shaking his head. “You kids can’t cease talking about fighting the Hunas and Sakas, can you? Your heads are just full of stories you heard as little brats. But you have no idea what it was really like.” His uneasy eyes returned to scan the empty desert. “I fear that you might wish them upon yourselves with your eagerness for combat.”
    â€œYou speak as if the Hunas and Sakas are more demon than human,” the young lieutenant butted in, still smirking. “Perhaps the fear comes with age.”
    â€œAnd with ignorance comes bravado,” the captain snorted in reply. “None of you fellows have ever met a Huna or Saka in battle, so what would you know.”
    â€œLet me assure you that the three of us are perfectly capable of dealing with any Hunas or Sakas we find in these hills, captain.” The young lieutenant’s voice turned combative as he squared his shoulders and gripped the pommel of his sword purposefully. With a slight jeer, he added, “That should give you all the freedom to deal with the cold.”
    â€œOh, I’m sure you must be awesome with that sword,” the captain retorted, his voice rising as he picked up the challenge. “After all, you have mastered your craft by hacking at those practice dummies in training school for years.”
    The mounting tension hung around them like a sullen mist. But before things could spiral out of control, the fourth horseman, a young man with calm eyes, quickly moved in to defuse the situation.
    â€œIt’s not like we had a choice, captain,” he chuckled disarmingly. “You old men put the fear of Avanti into the invaders, and brought peace to Sindhuvarta. So now we have to be content with plunging our swords into practice dummies, patrolling these dead mountains and sparring with one another verbally. Yet, we mustn’t be judged without being given a fair chance to prove our worth, should we?”
    The veteran considered the point before inclining his head. “I guess you’re right,” he sighed deeply. “It is in the nature of the bloodied sword to doubt the strength of untested metal.”
    â€œAs it is in the nature of the new blade to discount the sharpness of old iron,” the younger man smiled, tactfully acknowledging the captain’s climbdown. After the briefest of pauses, he added, “All the same, I’m glad the glory of Avanti has prevailed.”
    â€œThe glory of Avanti shall always prevail,” the lieutenant returned to the conversation, but now his tone was sober and placatory, too. “May our kingdom prosper under King Vikramaditya!”
    The other horsemen nodded and turned to the desert. Now that peace was brokered, they sat in the dwindling light for a while. The captain spoke again to break the hush.
    â€œOur watch is over. It’s time to return to the outpost.”
    Turning his horse around, he made his way back toward a jagged cleft in the mountains. The others filed after him quietly.
    Fifteen minutes later, the patrol rode into a small basin surrounded by cliffs. Night had fallen, but the horsemen picked their way with practiced ease, the noses of their horses pointed toward three flickering points of light that gradually grew to reveal small torches.
    The torchlight also threw the contours of three small wooden buildings into focus.
    As the quartet approached the buildings, the captain, who was