Mythological fiction: The Chendur battle has enervated Aambal. Will she find her way to words again?

The metal was cold, her hands were shaking a little. In her trance, Aambal was once again standing on the red sands of Chendur’s beach, where they were all waiting for an arrival. She saw once more, facing each other, the two armies in formation. The battle would begin any moment now. She anticipated the stir and murmuring and the shifting from foot to foot in the rows of restless warriors before it came, as she settled into that time. Aambal too stood, like them, ears trained for the call to action. In a clear space between the armies there stood – set apart by their off-white attire – the musicians, physicians, bards and the runners, sturdy women and men, who would carry away the wounded and the dead and carry ahead messages.

Aambal felt as if she was two people, seeing the same thing, one a fragment of a moment before the other. She looked towards the end of the battlefield. Just in front of a row of ruddy hillocks, on a structure that resembled a high lookout tower, Devayani was standing with Ganesha, looking past the warriors to the sea. Aambal followed Devayani’s eyes as they went to Kandhan. Images of the time Kandhan...

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