For children: A teenaged prince Ram stumbles upon a secret plot to steal a divine weapon

“Well, that looks inviting!” Lakshman said with a nervous smirk.

Ram chuckled. “Only crazy people would go into a black pit like this.”

Lakshman punched Ram on the arm playfully. “Well, I don’t have anything else to do tonight.”

“Are you two always like this?” Ishir asked.

“Always!” Ram and Lakshman replied at the same time.

Ram poked his head inside the tunnel. “It’s too dark in there, and we don’t have a fire.”

“Maybe you can’t make fire,” Ishir said with a grin. “But I can.” He opened his cloth satchel and pulled out two flints, special fire-making stones. “We Koitur never travel without these.”

Lakshman hugged Ishir. “I think I know why Ram likes you so much.” While Lakshman collected a handful of dry reeds, Ram drew his sword and cut a branch. He then wrapped some dry reeds around one end. They held their breath as Ishir banged the flints together. Bright sparks flashed into the tunnel.

“Yes!” Lakshman cried out as the reeds caught fire. The ignited reeds served as a torch, driving away the darkness. Suddenly, the tunnel didn’t seem as threatening anymore.

Ishir looked at Ram and Lakshman’s bows. “There’s no room for arrows in such a narrow tunnel.”

Ram smiled and extracted his khanda, its blade gleaming in the flickering torchlight. “I always carry a backup weapon.”

Ram led the way underground, Ishir in the middle and Lakshman guarding the rear. The princes’ heads brushed up against the low, damp ceiling, the flames making the tunnel dance with ghostly shadows.

As they walked further in, the hissing of snakes could be heard from the dark corners. Ishir grabbed Ram’s arm and muttered a prayer of protection.

“Keep to the middle and watch where you step,” Ram warned. The tunnel began sloping upwards. “They must have built it this way to stop the river from flooding whatever’s beyond,” he said, stroking his chin thoughtfully. “But what exactly is ahead of us?” Ishir asked as the tunnel began to slope downhill again.

Lakshman peered over Ishir’s head. “I think we’re about to find out.” In the distance, a yellow light glimmered softly. “That’s firelight!” Ram whispered.

“What’s that sound?” Lakshman asked. A steady thump echoed from beyond the tunnel’s exit. “It’s like someone’s chipping away on rock.”

Ram put his torch on the floor. Better not to give ourselves away. Waving the others forward, he crept towards the light.

“Watch out!” Ishir suddenly cried. Lakshman spun about, his sword hissing from its leather scabbard like an angry cobra. Behind the boys, a soldier was crouching low on the floor with his arm held back, a small throwing knife glinting in the dim light. Ram breathed in sharply. He must have followed us from the river!

The man’s arm jerked forward, and the knife flew from his fingers. Lakshman swung his khanda upwards in a desperate move to protect his head. The knife ricocheted off his sword and spun into the wall, tiny bits of rock scattering in all directions.

The soldier paused, his bearded face astonished, but his surprise turned to anger as he pulled out a dangerous-looking katar from his waistband. Holding the short triangular dagger, he crept forward.

For Ram, time slowed to a crawl, although it had been only seconds since the knife was thrown. He gripped his khanda and dropped into a fighting stance. Meanwhile, Ishir stood between him and Lakshman, cowering like a trapped mouse. I don’t have enough space to get to Lakshman!

Movement flickered behind Ram and his neck hair stood up. Another soldier. Realising they were trapped, Ram grit his teeth and turned to face his attacker. The man was difficult to see, silhouetted against the dull glow of the firelight coming from beyond. With long strides, the black-uniformed soldier closed in on them shockingly fast.

The man was quite muscular and was holding a straight-edged sword in his left hand. A large moustache drooped past his jaw, a confident grin plastered across his face.

Perhaps he thinks I’m an easy target. Just a boy.

Ram waited until the man was closer, then picked up the spluttering reed torch and threw it in the attacker’s direction. The torch crashed into the man’s head, and he screamed as a shower of sparks exploded about him. Patting his long hair, he seemed quite relieved he was not on fire. Kicking the torch to one side, he rushed towards Ram with a savage growl.

Their swords met with a ringing clang, man and boy testing each other’s strength. The soldier swept his khanda above his head to deliver a powerful downward curve, but the tip of his sword caught on the low ceiling.

Ram was well-trained and used the distraction to launch a front kick, his hips pivoting forward to add more force. His heel caught the soldier in his stomach and drove him back. Gasping for breath, the man

staggered and fell to his knees. But when he looked up at Ram, he was still smirking.

Shiva, preserve me, he’s just warming up.

Ram barely had time to react to a vicious thrust of the man’s sword, twisting his torso sideways to let the blade pass. Quickly stepping to the side, he swung his elbow in a fast arc, feeling it collide with the man’s head. Stupefied, the enemy’s grin vanished in an instant. He blinked hard and staggered, his legs about to give way.

I have him now.

Ram dropped into a crouch before pushing himself up, his palm aimed at the man’s chin. With a dull thud, the soldier’s head snapped backwards and finally, his unconscious body crumpled to the stone floor.

Excerpted with permission from Young Ram And The Weapon Of The Sun, RK Singh, Scholastic.