Page 21 of A King's Oath

“From an early age,” Samarth grumbled.

“Why?”

“That’s how they learn, grow stronger.”

“Hmmm?” Hukum’s head cocked in wonderment. “Interesting. Good luck, Samarth. I’ll see you after the match.”

With that, Hukum was off, leaving him alone again. Alone, and angry and baffled.

“Sam!” Kush’s loud voice reverberated. “Coach.”

“Coming!”

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Samarth mounted Bodhi, grabbed his mallet and charged into the field, his teammates flanking him. The entire club came alive with cheers around him. He did not look, did not veer. His anger, his hopelessness, the what ifs with a disappointed Ava — he bundled them all and stowed them in one corner. All he could see was the small tennis-sized white hardball rolling across the green ground. From behind his protective eyewear, all he could see was a haze and the ball in focus.

“Ready,” one of the umpires mounted on their steeds echoed. Everybody gathered up in the centre of the field, the two umpires in-between them as they all took their places. As Number 2, Samarth was situated at the centre of it all, his mallet poised to steal the ball as soon as it dropped, before the opponent’s Number 2 could steal it. Their first chukker was planned as an offence.

“3, 2, 1,” the umpire threw the ball down between them and mad scrambling ensued. This was the only moment when his heart would skip a beat. That moment of throwing off into the deep end. Samarth felt before saw the round hardness touch his mallet and swung low and loose, setting the ball rolling from between the feet of his opponent’s horse. And off it went down to the goal post, with Kush chasing it. All the ponies kicked into gear, including his, and then their horses were galloping at 30 miles an hour towards the goalpost.

Samarth overtook Lawrence’s Number 2 and reached Kush, who was being pressed into the side by Lawrence’s Number 1.

“Come on!” Samarth yelled, his code for Kush. “Come on!”

Kush swung his mallet and in a move they had both mastered over practise, knocked the ball towards him from between his horse’s legs. Samarth swung his mallet yet again, this time hard and fast. Lawrence's Number 2 caught up to him, bodily pushing into Bodhi. Samarth slapped Bodhi’s neck with his left hand and he pushed back, his right hand swinging the mallet yet again as the goalpost came closer.

“Come ooon!” Samarth screamed, taking one last knock. And the ball went across. Goal. The umpire’s whistle and the raised flag awarding their goal. His teammates burst into cheers, fists up — “Come oon!”

Adrenaline pumped high.

Samarth reverberated, reining his horse in — “Come oooon!”

And Bodhi, along with all other horses halted in an instant, turned, and began galloping to the other side. It was astounding how their horses could do that. Run 30, sometimes 40 miles an hour, halt with just a pull of the reins, turn, and start back. Samarth felt his lower half rise up from the saddle as Bodhi picked up speed.

The goalposts would be switched now.

As they neared the centre of the field, Samarth’s eyes caught a figure in blue. The blue that reached her knees. She was jumping, clapping, delirious, hopping out as he passed. He couldn’t see her expression as his horse rushed past in a blur. Samarth raised his hand to slap him to slow down, and that’s when he realised it.

That’s how they learn, grow stronger.

If Ava was still cheering him, after discovering something distasteful… was it learning and growing stronger? The two of them?

5. 2-Mark Answer

Samarth ran up the school stairs, the corridor close to empty as the start bell had already rung. He was never late to class but they had landed late last night and he had to finish his homework, which he had woken up for even earlier this morning, finished his bathing and paath, then attacked with a vengeance. While finishing Simple and Compound Interest problems, his mind had veered to the girl who did her calculations in her head.

Where had the time passed?

Samarth checked the buttons down his shirt, hoping he had done them right as he skidded to a stop outside his open classroom door.

“May I come in, Ms. Shanaya?”

The class hadn’t begun yet, the PA system assembly having just concluded. Ms. Shanaya gave him a once-over. Samarth lowered his gaze, running his fingers through his hair.He had combed it, hadn’t he?

“Winning polo matches doesn’t give you the liberty to turn tardy,” she rebuked. “What time is it?”

Samarth glanced at the watch face on his wrist. They weren’t allowed phones during school hours but they did get to wear smart watches to class.

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