Subahu cautioned the guards who were taking away Narasimha, "Maintain a careful watch over him. Don't get carried away by his innocent face."

The guards tied a cloth around Narasimha's eyes to make doubly sure that their prisoner was not aware of the exact location where they were going to imprison him. Narasimha did not protest against the soldiers even when they pushed, pulled and jostled him. While walking with them, he quietly counted the number of steps he took, "One, two, three, four..."

The ground was sloping downwards. Narasimha suddenly complained, "I lost one of my shoes. Can one of you please go in search of it?"

The chief guard asked in a curt voice , "Where did you lose it?"

Narasimha caught hold of his ears and apologized, "How would I know? My eyes are tied. It must have been about five minutes ago."

"Five minutes? And you are telling now?" The guard shouted. He dispatched one of the guards with him, "In all probability, it must be near the North East Dome."

The second guard left in search of the shoe whilst the other guards fretted and fumed at the unnecessary delay. Narasimha whistled a tune softly under his breath. The shoe had come off at the court itself. He lied to them in order to obtain a clue about where he was being taken.

The guard who had been sent on the errand returned panting for breath. He cursed, "I couldn't find it. Can't you remove the other one shoe also and walk barefoot?"

Narasimha apologized profusely for the inconvenience he had caused him and proceeded to do as the guard had suggested to him. He felt the hardness of the ground beneath his feet. The gravelly soil had given place to a bit slushy and marshy land.

His ears perked up every time a new voice accosted one of the guards. He maintained a separate count of that number simultaneously along with his footsteps count, "One, Two, Three..."

At last, they had arrived at their destination. They led Narasimha into his cell. They removed his blindfold and shut the iron door behind him. Narasimha could hear the noise of the key turning in the lock before everything was once again silent. His eyes took a while to accustom themselves to the darkness.

He ransacked his memory for all the times he had visited the dungeons during festivals to distribute sweets to the prisoners along with Eiravati. There were several at various corners of the fortification. They were all situated beneath the ground level. He had to first ascertain where he was imprisoned and observe everything carefully before formulating his plan of escape.

The guards had been talking among themselves that they had passed the North East Dome to reach this place. The ground was gravelly at first, and then it had become a bit slushy and marshy. There were a few clues to begin with.

Narasimha comfortably settled himself down and closed his eyes. He pretended to be sleeping. The door that barred the cell was made of heavy and reinforced wrought iron.  Except one tiny ventilator, there were no openings or exits from this particular prison cell.

The shadow of the light from the lantern held by the guards shifted through the small ventilator and fell on the walls of Narasimha's prison cell once in every ten minutes. He calculated to himself, "The window of opportunity is about eight minutes."

The muffled voices of the guards passing by caught Narasimha's ears, "By God! The Prince seems as comfortable here as he would be on his velvet mattress. He has slept like a log for hours. He hasn't complained once ever since he came here."

Narasimha smiled. His first part of the plan had started working. The guards were relaxing round him. Their suspicions on him had been lulled.

In the morning, Subahu came to the dungeons. He asked the guards, "How have things been going since he came?"

The guards enthusiastically replied, "He has been of no trouble. He slept the whole night. We have been consistently monitoring everything."

"And he didn't ask for anything?"

One of the guards said, "He hasn't asked for food, water or any comforts. The day watch will relieve us in an hour. I will pass on the instructions to them when they join us."

"Show me where he is", Subahu said. He wished to personally ensure for himself everything was alright. The guards escorted him down to the cell. Their descent was laboriously slow because of Subahu's speed of walking.

In his cell, Narasimha meditated upon Guru Dharmagupta and The Chest of the Ancient Masters. The brown, intricately carved chest manifested itself before him out of the ether. He opened  it and rummaged through its contents. He was searching for the parchment that had shown him and his friends the way to the Buddhist monastery at Ashkora during their quest for the Yeti.

Narasimha found the parchment. He held it in his palms and closed his eyes. The parchment shone and dazzled. Its brightness made Narasimha flinch his eyes momentarily. The parchment showed a three-dimensional miniature moving portrait of the prison cell and its immediate environs. Narasimha's eyes latched on to the details. He was about to peruse more when he gasped on seeing Subahu and the guards walking towards his cell.

Narasimha shoved the parchment in and closed the chest. He sent it back to its original place in the ether. Subahu said, "I heard something clap down like a chest closing. I could feel a flash of light."

The guards thoroughly scoured and inspected Narasimha's cell. They came up with nothing. Narasimha maintained a deliberately impassive and expressionless face throughout the exercise. An intense and furious scowl grazed Subahu's brows as he followed the guards out.

Narasimha wiped his forehead after they left. He shook his head in relief. It had been a very close shave indeed. He could not risk summoning the chest while he was here in the prison. The chest falling into Subahu's hands meant doom and disaster. He would have to manage and make do with whatever knowledge he had without falling back on the chest for help.
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At the Naval Base of Trikutapadu in Ashwakootam,
The new settlements in Ashwakootam and Vijayapuri for the residents of Malava islands had been coming up nicely. The ships were docked and ready to leave. Mrithyunjay was preparing to depart along with General Samarth to bring back the civilians and children from there. It was however decided that military control over the islands would be retained in view of the enormous funds and revenue they were generating.

The ships had been stocked with provisions, arms and ammunition. The sailors were singing their sea songs, cracking wisecracks and teasing each other as they proceeded to fasten the ropes.

Bhagiradhi had journeyed to Trikutapadu from which the ships were set to sail to see off her husband. The weather and wind prediction for the voyage were favorable. Mrithyunjay returned from his inspection of the ships when he found Bhagiradhi had dozed off in her chair. Mrithyunjay gawked at her like a foolish teenager. Bhagiradhi stirred from her sleep. She sat upright and started fixing her appearance. She checked to see if her kajal was smudged or if her bindi was off.

Mrithyunjay caught hold of her hand and drew her gently towards him, "Mrs. Varma, your kajal and bindi are fine. I wasn't finding fault with your appearance . I was just wondering to myself if you were always so beautiful or if you are becoming more beautiful after the pregnancy."

Bhagiradhi playfully smacked him. He said, "No, I am serious. I find myself falling in love with you all over again."

She nestled in his strong arms finding comfort in them. She closed her eyes savoring and treasuring every single moment of proximity with her husband. Her happy expression suddenly turned stormy. He comforted her, "Are you worried about me? I will return back to you."

Bhagiradhi smiled through her tears. Her brain knew that he was hers and he would return to her. But who would tell her errant heart that. Both of them were smiling happily when Bhagiradhi's white carrier pigeon flew in with a message attached to its legs. It was from her chief spy in Mahishmati. Lines of worry were writ on her face as she read through.

Mrithyunjay was concerned, "What's the matter? Is anything serious?"

Bhagiradhi showed him the scroll. The spy had written everything right from Maharani Eiravati's confession in the court, her death sentence, her escape with Narasimha's help, and the Prince's imprisonment. Mrithyunjay asked her, "Shall I go to Mahishmati instead? Your brother seems to be in real trouble. Samarth Mama can manage this expedition."

Bhagiradhi held her palm in front of her. She wrote her answer on a slate beside her, "No, you won't go to Mahishmati. He has brought this upon himself by his obstinacy. My men are operating in Mahishmati. They will take care of it. You bring our  people from the Malava islands safe here."

Mrithyunjay promised, "Alright, as you wish."

But his mind refused to rest easy after whatever he had heard. Gajendra was family to him just like Bhagiradhi, their forthcoming child and his mother. He was in real danger. It wasn't a matter he would leave to spies and soldiers. He would have personally dealt with it. Bhagiradhi would have done the same if she hadn't been so incensed with her brother about what had happened to him during the war. He had unfortunately become the cause of rift between a sister and brother.