The Guardians of the Halahala by Shatrujeet Nath

left, an elaborate fountain of cavorting water sprites and mermaids made a loud splash, muting the chorus of revelry coming from the banquet hall and drowning out the hum that issued from the direction of the palace grounds, where the feast for the subjects of Avanti was underway.
    â€œWhat are you doing here all by yourself?”
    The young prince started at the sound of the voice, even though it had a soft, soothing cadence that served up the image of rich, golden honey. He turned to see a tall, sensuous woman, half-hidden by the fronds of an exotic shrub, looking at him from the top of the winding pathway that led down to the fountain.
    â€œIs everything all right?” the woman asked, a shadow of concern falling across her face.
    Ghatakarpara nodded, his breath catching in his throat, rendering him incapable of speech. Kshapanaka invariably had that effect on him. In fact, he was certain she had that effect on most men.
    The prince watched with adoring eyes as Kshapanaka stepped past the shrub and descended a low flight of steps to join him. In her mid-twenties, Kshapanaka was tall and graceful, yet she possessed an athletic build that spoke of formal military training. Her eyes were large and languid in her dusky, chiselled face, but the prince could see an impetuous spark dancing in their depths. Her hair hung around her shoulders in alluring curls, highlighting the arch of her slender neck.
    â€œSo, what’s the matter?” Kshapanaka leaned on the parapet and studied Ghatakarpara’s face earnestly, before transferring her gaze to the far shores of the lake. “I can see something’s troubling you.”
    â€œNo, not really,” the prince shook his head, subconsciously marveling at the woman’s perceptiveness.
    â€œThen why are you here when everyone else is inside?” Kshapanaka inclined her head toward the banquet hall.
    â€œOh, that. I was just getting bored.”
    â€œAre you sure there’s nothing else?”
    There was something about the way Kshapanaka looked at Ghatakarpara as she posed the question that breached the boy’s defenses.
    â€œWell... I mean all of them are so stuffy and full of themselves, bragging about the battles they’ve fought or how cleverly they rule their kingdoms,” the words came out in a rush as the resistance melted away and the prince bared his heart to the beautiful woman standing by his side. “Just because someone has fought a few battles doesn’t mean those who haven’t are fools and shouldn’t be taken seriously.”
    Kshapanaka looked at Ghatakarpara in silence for a moment. “And who isn’t taking you seriously?”
    â€œUncle Vararuchi,” the prince muttered in a voice pebbled with resentment.
    â€œWhat makes you think he doesn’t take you seriously?” Kshapanaka arched her eyebrows.
    â€œI needed to tell the king something, but when I approached him, uncle Vararuchi stopped me. He said the king was busy attending to the guests and that I was not to disturb him. I told uncle Vararuchi that it was important, but he just shooed me away.” After a moment’s pause, the prince shook his head vehemently. “Everyone around treats me as if I’m still a kid.”
    â€œThat’s because you
behave
like one.”
    Aghast, Ghatakarpara turned sharply toward Kshapanaka. He had confided in her expecting her to be supportive, but instead, she had stung him with that remark. He opened his mouth in protest, but changed his mind and turned away, seeking refuge in injured silence.
    â€œOnly a kid would think of bothering the king on a day when he’s playing host to so many kings of Sindhuvarta,” Kshapanaka said matter-of-factly.
    â€œI had... I have some very important news for the king,” Ghatakarpara spoke hotly. “
Very, very
important news...”
    â€œDid you tell Vararuchi what this news was?”
    â€œNo,” the prince