Chapter 405 - 373: King Vrishasena Of Vrishabhapura....

(A/N):

Drop a meme here that you find funny. Or reflects your mood.

Which will encourage me...

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Vrishabhapura...

Meanwhile, in the royal capital of Vrishabhapura, the atmosphere inside the palace’s grand sacrificial courtyard had been one of solemn devotion.

A magnificent yaga had been underway for several days, with a group of learned sages continuously offering sacred oblations into the consecrated fire while chanting ancient Vedic mantras.

The sacrificial altar stood at the centre of the courtyard, surrounded by ritual vessels, heaps of offerings, and arrangements of flowers, while the fragrance of ghee and burning sandalwood drifted through the air.

Beyond the courtyard, royal guards stood at their assigned posts, ensuring that the sacred proceedings remained undisturbed.

King Vrishasena, the sovereign of Vrishabhapura, sat upon an elevated seat beside his queen, observing the ritual with quiet satisfaction.

He was a powerful ruler who had long desired to expand his kingdom’s influence and establish his supremacy among the neighbouring realms.

The Ashvamedha yaga represented the culmination of that ambition, a declaration that he possessed both the authority and the strength to challenge any ruler who dared oppose his claim.

With the sacrificial horse already dispatched, he had every reason to believe that the ceremony would proceed according to his expectations.

Then, without warning, the flames upon the altar surged upwards.

The fire, which had been burning steadily beneath the sages’ offerings, suddenly blazed with extraordinary intensity, its golden tongues rising high above the sacrificial pit.

Sparks scattered into the air, and the light illuminated the faces of everyone gathered around the altar.

The sages abruptly stopped chanting, their voices falling silent as they stared at the flames with widened eyes.

Even the attendants who had been preparing the next offerings froze in place, uncertain whether they should continue the ritual or wait for the sages to interpret the strange occurrence.

King Vrishasena immediately noticed the interruption.

Turning towards the chief sage seated before the altar, he frowned slightly and glanced at the other sages, whose expressions suggested that something far more significant than an ordinary disturbance had taken place.

"Acharya, why have you stopped the yaga?"

Vrishasena asked, his voice carrying across the courtyard.

"The ritual was proceeding without difficulty a moment ago. What has happened?"

The chief sage did not answer immediately.

He continued watching the unusually bright flames, his brows drawn together as though he were attempting to understand a message that had reached him through the sacred fire.

The other sages exchanged uneasy glances, and their silence only deepened the king’s suspicion.

"Acharya,"

Vrishasena repeated, this time with greater firmness,

"I asked you a question. Has something happened to the Ashvamedha horse?"

At the mention of the horse, the chief sage finally turned towards him.

For a brief moment, he seemed reluctant to speak, as though he were weighing the consequences of revealing what he had learned.

Yet there was little point in concealing the truth from the very king whose sacrifice had been interrupted.

"Your Majesty," he began carefully,

"the Ashvamedha horse we dispatched has been stopped."

Vrishasena’s expression hardened.

"Stopped? What do you mean by stopped? Has some foolish ruler dared to interfere with my sacrifice?"

The chief sage lowered his eyes momentarily before continuing.

"The horse crossed into the territory of another kingdom. Its soldiers restrained the animal, and the banner bearing the emblem of Vrishabhapura was cut down and cast into the river."

"By doing so, they have rejected the sovereignty proclaimed by your Ashvamedha and openly challenged your claim."

For several moments, the king remained motionless.

Then his fingers tightened around the armrest of his seat, and the satisfaction that had coloured his face only moments earlier vanished completely.

The insult was unmistakable.

A king who undertook the Ashvamedha accepted the possibility that another ruler might challenge him, but the destruction of his banner made the rejection especially humiliating.

It was one thing to refuse his claim.

It was quite another to cut down his royal emblem and allow it to drift away in the waters as though the authority it represented were worthless.

"Who?"

Vrishasena demanded, rising from his seat.

"Which king has dared to commit such an act against me? Does he imagine that Vrishabhapura’s banner can be cut down without consequence? I shall make certain that he remembers this day for the rest of his life."

His queen watched him carefully, recognising the anger gathering behind his words.

Around them, the assembled courtiers and attendants had fallen silent, unwilling to interrupt the king while his temper was rising.

The sages, however, remained composed, for they understood that the next revelation might determine the course of the kingdom’s response.

Vrishasena turned towards the chief sage.

"Can you discover which kingdom has opposed my claim? I want to know the name of the ruler who has dared to challenge me. If he believes that his walls, warriors, or royal lineage will protect him from the consequences, I shall personally ensure that he learns otherwise."

The chief sage exchanged a glance with the other sages.

Although the horse’s journey had been part of the ritual, the sacred fire could, through their knowledge of the appropriate mantras, reveal the identity of those who had obstructed its progress.

Yet the answer was not something they could produce through ordinary observation.

They would have to invoke the ritual’s divine power and seek a vision of the kingdom responsible.

After a brief consultation, the sages resumed their positions around the altar.

The chief sage closed his eyes and began chanting an ancient mantra, his voice deep and measured.

The other sages joined him, their voices gradually merging into a unified invocation as fresh offerings were placed into the fire.

The flames responded almost immediately, swirling in a circular motion before rising into a towering column of golden light.

The courtyard grew unnaturally still.

The king, his queen, and the assembled courtiers watched as the flames began to change.

Their brilliant golden colour darkened at the edges, while a shimmering image slowly emerged within the heart of the fire.

At first, it appeared as nothing more than an indistinct shape, but as the sages continued their chanting, the vision grew clearer, revealing a magnificent royal banner fluttering above an imposing kingdom.

The chief sage’s eyes widened.

The banner was unlike any he had expected to see.

Its rich blue field shimmered beneath a border of deep crimson and gold, the intricate golden embroidery forming elaborate patterns along its edges.

At the centre stood the magnificent head of a roaring lion, its mane rendered in gleaming gold and its mouth open to reveal powerful fangs.

A golden crown rested upon the lion’s head, while a radiant eight-pointed star shone above it, surrounded by an ornate wreath of golden branches.

The entire emblem conveyed strength, majesty, and unyielding authority, while the words TRIVENIVRATA and STRENGTH • HARMONY • ETERNITY were inscribed upon the banner.

For a moment, the chief sage could only stare at the vision.

Then he slowly turned towards King Vrishasena, his expression carrying a gravity that made the ruler’s anger give way to curiosity.

"Your Majesty," he said,

"the kingdom that has stopped your Ashvamedha horse is none other than Trivenivrata, the realm protected by the sacred rivers Ganga, Yamuna, and Saraswathi. Its royal banner bears a crowned, roaring lion beneath a radiant star, upon a field of deep blue bordered with crimson and gold."

The king’s expression changed as he listened to the name.

"Trivenivrata?"

he repeated, as though testing the unfamiliar word upon his tongue.

The chief sage inclined his head.

"Yes, Your Majesty. It is a powerful and independent kingdom whose natural boundaries are formed by the three sacred rivers. Its ruler is King Devara, a warrior of extraordinary prowess and divine lineage, whose deeds have earned him a formidable reputation among those who know of him."

"His kingdom has remained independent, and its sovereignty is not something its ruler would surrender lightly."

The flames continued dancing, the image of Trivenivrata’s majestic lion banner remaining visible within their golden depths.

The chief sage looked directly at Vrishasena.

"It is King Devara who rules Trivenivrata, Your Majesty. His soldiers have stopped your sacrificial horse, and by cutting down your banner, they have rejected the sovereignty proclaimed by your Ashvamedha."

For the first time since hearing that his horse had been stopped, Vrishasena did not immediately respond.

He stared at the vision of the crowned lion, his jaw tightening as he absorbed the identity of the ruler who had challenged him.

Then his gaze hardened once more.

"King Devara,"

he repeated, the name now carrying the weight of a personal affront.

"So, it is he who believes himself entitled to stand against Vrishabhapura."

He looked towards the sacred fire, where the royal banner of Trivenivrata continued to flutter within the vision.

"Very well,"

Vrishasena declared, his voice cold with determination.

"If Devara wishes to challenge my Ashvamedha, then I shall give him the opportunity to defend his decision. Send word to my commanders and prepare the royal messengers. I will not allow this insult to pass unanswered."

The sages exchanged troubled glances as the king turned away from the altar, already contemplating the response he would deliver.

The Ashvamedha had been intended to proclaim the supremacy of Vrishabhapura.

Instead, it had brought the kingdom face-to-face with a ruler who had refused to bow.

And King Vrishasena had no intention of allowing that refusal to stand unchallenged.

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(Author note:)

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