morning breeze caused the leaves to flutter. The leaves were green. Shiva stared harder. They
remained green.
‘I know,’ said Shiva, looking at Parvateshwar suddenly, his face luminescent. ‘Why don’t we
use arrows?’
‘Arrows?’ asked a surprised Parvateshwar.
Archery was the battle art of the most elite Kshatriyas, used for one-on-one duels.
However, since one-on-one duels could only be fought between warriors of equal chosen-
tribes, this skill was reduced to only a demonstration art of the crème de la crème. Archers
earned huge respect for their rare skill, but they were not decisive in battles. There was a time
when bows and arrows were crucial in war strategies as weapons of mass destruction. That
was the time of the daivi astras. Many of these astras were usually released through arrows.
However, with the ban on daivi astras many thousands of years ago by Lord Rudra, the
effectiveness of archery units in large-scale battles had reduced drastically.
‘How can that reduce their numerical superiority, my Lord?’ asked Vraka. ‘Even the most
skilled of archers will take at least five seconds to aim, fire and execute a kill. He will not be
able to kill more than twelve a minute. We have only one hundred Kshatriyas who are of the
gold order of archers. The rest can shoot, but their aim cannot be relied upon. So we will not
be able to kill more than one thousand two hundred of our enemies per minute. Certainly not
enough against the Chandravanshis.’
‘I am not talking about using arrows for one-on-one shooting,’ said Shiva. ‘I am talking about
using them for softening the enemy, as weapons of mass destruction.’
Disregarding the confused expressions of his audience, Shiva continued, ‘Let me explain.
Suppose we create a corps of archers of the lower Kshatriya chosen-tribes.’
‘But their aim wouldn’t be good,’ said Vraka.
‘That doesn’t matter. Let us say we have at least five thousand of those archers. Suppose
we train them to just get the range right. Forget about the aim. Suppose their job is to just keep
firing arrows in the general direction of the Chandravanshi army. If they don’t have to aim, they
can fire a lot more quickly. Maybe one arrow every two or three seconds.’
Parvateshwar narrowed his eyes as the brilliance of the idea struck him. The rest of his
brigadiers were still trying to gather their thoughts.
‘Think about it,’ said Shiva. ‘We would have five thousand arrows raining down on the
Chandravanshis every two seconds. Suppose we keep this attack on for ten minutes. An
almost continuous shower of arrows. Their irregulars would break. The arrows would have the
same effect like that of the elephants in the last war!’
‘Brilliant!’ cried Vraka.
‘And maybe,’ said Parvateshwar. ‘If the aim doesn’t matter, we could train these archers to
lie on their back, hold the bow on their feet and pull the string back nearly up to their necks and
then release. As long as their feet are pointed in the right direction, it would work.’
‘Excellent!’ exclaimed Shiva. ‘Because then the bows can be bigger. And the range longer.’
‘And the arrows bigger and thicker, almost like small spears,’ continued Parvateshwar.
‘Strong enough to even penetrate leather and thick wood shields. Only the soldiers with metal
shields, like the regulars, would be safe from this.’
‘Do we have our answer?’ asked Shiva.
‘Yes, we do,’ answered Parvateshwar with a smile. He turned towards Vraka. ‘Create this
corps. I want five thousand men ready within two weeks.’
singke
(singke)
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