Page 4 of Sumanika

I couldn’t help but gaze at Kunwarsa, handling a group of tribal sickles against his sword.

Suddenly, someone struck his biceps, and the blood splashed on my face, scaring me to death.

He yelled deep.

“Please, don’t do this for me,” I shivered,“You’re the Prince; you shouldn’t risk your life,” the mere possibility of him losing grounding me worse than being burnt.

Why was he doing it?

How did he even end up here?

How did he know me at all?

He plunged the sword into a tribal’s stomach, "Aaahhhh,"

My heart raced. Blood was pooling around.

Suddenly, a group of a dozen trapped him, falling him to his knees, piercing his skin from all the corners.

No, no, no, no.

“Don’t do this,” I screamed.

Death was better. I couldn’t see anything happening to him.

I immediately got up and ran toward the burning funeral pyre.

But Kunwarsa grabbed me and pulled me back.

I screamed.“Leave me alone! I deserve this. Please don’t kill anyone for me. Don’t do this. I deserve it,” I cried out.

The soldiers diverted the killer’s attention, pulling them away from Kunwarsa.

He pulled me to his chest, our knees crashing into each other, and when I protested, he landed a sharp slap on my cheek, watering my rage and yelling furiously.“Stay Here.”

I burst into crying.

"Please, it's your wedding in six months; do not do this for me.”

I could hear swords clashing, and then, I noticed an even louder noise as a crowd rushed towards us. Around fifty people encircled him, assaulting from every direction. I looked at my late husband’s father, who gripped my hand and started pulling me away.

“Leave me!” I yelled. His hold biting on my grazed wrist as he dragged me through the mud, dirtying my white attire.

“Kunwarsa” I yelped.

He killed people mercilessly, one by one, his clothes stained with the blood of his and theirs.

A coppery taste lingered on my tongue, seeing so much bloodshed. He thrust his sword into the stomach of another person and yelled. "Leave her alone, I said," and sprinted towards me.

He held my hand.

I was being pulled from both sides: the deceased’s father and Kunwarsa.

“Let go of her hand. She needs to die with him. Don’t bring the wrath of the gods upon yourself. Leave her,” the father yelled at him, and Kunwarsa punched him hard, knocking him to the ground. He cried out in pain.

Kunwarsa pulled me closer, his steel-strong arm wrapping around my waist as he moved forward with his sword.“This is wrong. She wants to live; let her live. She wasn’t a burden to him. She is on her own and doesn’t deserve to be killed like that.” He argued, and I cried, burying my face in his chest and collapsing to my knees in despair. He also sank to his knees and tightened his grip around me.

“She is a widow. There’s no life for her; no husband means no support and nothing left. She needs to give up on her life,”

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