Chapter I
Signs of Revolution

Anirudh sighed as he paced the ground. Things were not where they should be. Not where they should be at all. His father was racked by inexplicable illnesss, and the medical professionals were just as baffled as he. Added to that, inner turmoil was tearing the tiny, indistinguishable nation of Rajat apart. His army was ready at his call--but to do what? Run down his own citizens? No, Rajat was alone in its political problems. Even were there any allies to call upon, he could not go in time to summon them. The truth was unavoidable. Rajat was experiencing revolution.

The prince sat himself on a chair, closed his eyes and rubbed them with his hands. Oh, yes, he'd heard of it. The economy and government his forefathers had worked so long to build and perfect was going down the drain. Prices on common food, such as rice and curry, was inflating quickly as cooks struggled to find the necessary ingredients. Restaurants closed down one night with no explanation, and failed to open by morning. Stocks were going out of hand, plumetting into an all-time low. All castes were growing angry at the changes--but what could he do? Anirudh had proposed a law to help bring back the economy--but the Council took months to reach any decision. It was all so exasperating.

The wooden door creaked open. Anirudh opened his eyes to see his good friend, Shekhar, enter. He smiled. "Hello, Shekhar. What news do you bring?"

Shekhar shrugged. "What else? Rajat is slowly climbing down on itself, and your brother sits idly, chatting with women and requesting sexual favors of them. It's all so infuriating. Right the other night, I caught him with the mistress, Kamala--"

Anirudh waved his hands. "Enough of my brother. Tell me of my father's health."

"It is the same as always," Shekhar grimly said.

"And what of my father's subjects?"

"They remain quiet when I stroll by, but whisper furiously amongst themselves in the streets. Did you know that nearly half of the people are currently unoccupied now? Even the priests and monks have taken notice and deepened their meditations and praying to God for help. Thankfully nothing violent yet, though there have been reports of thieves breaking into houses as of late. They all seem to be sitting and waiting for something, like the tiger before it strikes. I fear you, my dear Anirudh! You are not as safe in this palace as you think! You have no skill with the sword or the box, and will be completely vulnerable should you be faced by the weakest peasant when they revolt. I urge you to evacuate--"

"I will not!" Anirudh's nails bit into his chair, as he swallowed a lump in his throat. "The palace has been my home for as long as I can remember. My ancestors found refuge within these walls when all else failed. I will not back down."

"Not yet when your father calls you?" said Shekhar softly.

"W-What?" replied Anirudh, shocked.

"He has called all his seven sons to his palace. He sits there on his deathbed, even as I speak. How many will attend remains to be seen. Though I know you enough to know you won't ignore an old man's plea."

Anirudh stood up, walking swiftly to the door. He said behind his back in a smooth tone, "I am Anirudh, prince of Rajat. Above all I hold allegience to my father."