The Magadhans had hoped that their fire arrows would set the forest aflame, causing chaos and confusion amongst the Brangas. But mist and the cold of the night had ensured dew formation on the leaves. The trees simply did not catch fire.

As the arrows stopped, Bhagirath roared loudly. ‘Har Har Mahadev!’

His soldiers followed him as their cry rent the air, ‘Har Har Mahadev!’

The Magadhans quickly lit another line of arrows and shot. Once again, the trees and the Branga shields ensured that Bhagirath’s soldiers suffered no casualties.

The Brangas put their shields aside and let out their war cry, taunting their enemies. ‘Har Har Mahadev!’

Bhagirath could see the rowboats being lowered from the ships. The attack was about to begin. The fire arrows were just a cover. As he watched the arrows being loaded again, he turned to his men. ‘Shields!’

The Brangas effortlessly defended themselves against another volley of fire arrows.

‘Send a message to our men on the other side to launch their fire coracles! Now!’

As his aide rushed away, Bhagirath saw his enemies rowing out towards the kund. And yet another shower of arrows was fired.

‘Don’t move!’ shouted Bhagirath, keeping his men in check. ‘Let them land first.’

In order to inflict maximum casualties Bhagirath would allow a large contingent of enemy soldiers to land ashore before launching a three-pronged attack from the adjoining forest. An impregnable phalanx of his infantry, standing shoulder to shoulder, shields in front, would advance and push at the frontline Magadhan soldiers with unstoppable force. The enemy soldiers bringing up the rear would inevitably be forced into the water. Weighed down by their weapons and armour, they would drown. The frontline, hopelessly outnumbered, would then be decimated.

‘Shields!’ ordered Bhagirath once again as he saw the arrows being lit.

His gut feel was that this would be the last volley. Enemy soldiers were jumping off their boats onto the sands of Bal-Atibal. Brutal hand-to-hand combat was moments away. Bhagirath could feel the adrenaline rushing through his veins. He could almost smell the blood that was about to be shed.

‘Charge!’ bellowed Bhagirath.

Kartik rode furiously with his two-thousand strong cavalry. Even through the dense foliage, he could see fire arrows being shot from Magadhan ships. They had commenced battle, which meant that the southern contingent of the Magadhan army was in position.

‘Faster!’ roared Kartik to his horsemen.

They could see that the ships at the centre of the fleet had already caught fire. The devil boats had struck. Bhagirath was obviously hurting the Magadhan navy. What was surprising though, was that the southern end was also aflame. The Vaishali forces must have arrived and were attacking the Magadhan navy from behind.

Kartik was distracted by the din up ahead; it was the sound of a fierce battle between the southern contingent of the Magadhans and Divodas’ Brangas.

‘Ride harder!’