The Courier

The Courier

Srinivas was running through the bushes. His heart was thumping against his ribs. He was running as fast as his legs could carry him. Thorns and shrubs were cutting through his shins and ankles but he ignored the pain. He had to run through all the pain and reach The Big Banyan tree in the next two minutes.

He looked back. He saw the people chasing him were gaining on him steadily. Srinivas willed his legs to move faster. The fear shot the adrenaline through his veins pushing him faster.

He  ran through the muddy path towards the banyan tree. He could see the banyan tree and it gave him hope that he may be able to escape his attackers. He had his Khukri tucked inside his waistband, sheathed in the leather cover. He trusted his Khukri to protect him and he was confident about his skills with the Khukri.

Up ahead he saw cobra slithering along the path. He quickly broke a small twig with his fist as he was speeding down the path and struck the cobra. Just as he struck the deadly snake, he took a big leap and ran for his dear life. Cobra was not hurt but was aggravated enough to immediately raise its hood in an attacking posture. Srinivas knew this would slow down his attackers for few seconds. He knew his attackers had thick lathi sticks and swords with which they could easily kill the snake in one or two strokes.

The first of the persons chasing Srinivas had already noticed the snake and anticipated the attack and leaped over it. However the second person who did not have the full view was not as lucky and probably ended up getting bitten by the snake. However he swiftly slashed his sword on the snake cutting it into two halves. As he stumbled and slowed down to tend to his bite the people behind him crashed against each other and fell into a heap.

The first person was still charging at Srinivas and had this short sword drawn out. The Khukri was a Lethal weapon in close combat but was no match for a sword. The attacker was about forty steps behind Srinivas. The Big Banyan was only a stone's throw away. He thought he saw two turbans moving behind the tree. Srinivas yelled as loudly as he could trying to warn the men under the tree. His yell shrilled out and the sound came out as a thin sharp shriek. It was a costly shriek. Srinivas lost his breath. His legs slowed down with the reduction of air in his lungs. He shouted again and called out, “Anna! Danger!”.

The men behind the Big Banyan heard the shout. They turned and looked in Srinivas's direction and realised what was happening. Within seconds they had their swords drawn out and started to run towards Srinivas.

The swords slashed and clanked against each other. Srinivas’ protectors were easily able to overpower the first attacker who succumbed to his wound through his chest.

Srinivas was safe for the time being. Rest of the attackers withdrew and turned back with the wounded person on their shoulders.

A panting Srinivasa had fallen down to the ground and was clutching on to his chest gasping for air. In the other hand the khukri was out of its sheath.

Srinivas’ turbaned protectors return to The Banyan tree with bloody slashes across their hands and legs.

The shorter man held out his hands towards Srinivas.

Srinivas dug his hands inside his waistband and retrieved a small scroll tightly bound in jute ropes with waxy resin seal on its surface. The short man immediately grabbed the scroll and secured it within his own waistband. He started to run to his horse tied few steps. Within moments he was up on the horse and riding away to the next destination.

Shrinivas was still on the ground catching his breath. The taller burly man walked towards Srinivas dragging his sword behind on the ground. As he stopped at Srinivas, in one swift motion he lifted the sword and jabbed it into Srinivas’ heart.

The chain had to be broken. The secret had to be protected. The messenger could no longer divulge anything. The Kingdom was safe for the time being.

Govinda had carried out the orders of his Senapati.

The End

Speaking Tree

He was waiting under the Banyan tree. Few butts of spent cigarettes were strewn around, some of them still glowing orange. It was his habit to throw away half smoked cigarettes without stubbing them off. Suddenly he violently coughed and took sometime to control his breathing. He lit another fresh stick of death and blew a big plume into the night sky. The stars momentarily blurred away.

The moon less night might have been considered beautiful by any romancing couple. He was waiting for the courier to deliver the package. It was late.

His thoughts ran to his love. This job would give him enough bucks to buy her that ring. He had decided to make this his last contract and then turn a new leaf. The Banyan threw a leaf on his face as if it had read his thoughts. The locals considered The Banyan tree the source of Truth. May be this was its way of communication. There were many stories of sightings of a Spirit like being on the Tree. The Banyan stood at the entrance of the town. Its 'holiness' esured that no one resided any where close to it. It was deserted at nights.

He looked at his watch again to check the time. The hand was well past the decided rendezvous time.

He flicked away the half smoked cigarette. The Banyan whirled and rustled as a cold breeze passed through it. It sounded as if it was saying something. May be it was speaking the Truth.

This job would ensure his future. With enough money in his hand he would move to a new place with his love and start a new life. He had met her in the seedy bar. He had gone there on work. The job had gone wrong horribly. He had been scanning the mezannine for his target when his eyes fell on her. She was standing there staring back at him with the most beautiful eyes he had ever seen. Unfortunately the target was sitting at her table and made the first move and shot off few bullets at him. Her instinct was to pick the nearest table knife and jab it into the attackers neck. He finished the rest with a clean shot. Neither spoke a word. They walked out hand in hand and sped away on his motorbike.

Since then they had been together. At times, she assisted him on his job by bringing the needed distractions. With his guidance she had become so good at it that she could perform contracts on her own. He revealed his secret of successful job. He taught her to move fast and first. He taught her not to blink till after she had squeezed the trigger. Her skills made her teacher very proud She had not yet taken any contract though. He had encouraged her and as a gesture gifted his favourite Colt .31 to her. The hilt had notches on it filed by hand. It showed the count.

He had never failed on his contract. But tonight he had plans to fail his client and succeed for himself. He planned to take the contents of the package for himself and retire with his love. As he lit another one to gratify his nicotine craving he heard the rustle and the twigs breaking behind him. He was fast. Faster than the stand offs in the wild west movies. He spun around in one smooth swift motion simultaneously letting the lighter fall to the ground and pulled out his new shiny un-nothched Colt .31. Two rounds were heard almost simultaneoulsy. Two bodies fell to the earth. The lighter lit the dry grass. The yellow light shone in his attackers eyes. They were the most beautiful eyes he had ever seen. The eyes stared back at him emoting the realisation of their folly. Two Colts slipped out of the hands as they tried to reach each other and fell to the ground as the breath left them. The wind ripped through the heart shaped leaves of the Banyan and one could hear it cry, for Death is the ultimate truth.