Week 6 Storytelling: The Ten Minute Tournament

This story is based off of a public domain edition of Mahabharata, which contains the story of Bhishma at the Swayamvara.




Shalwa stirred in his armor, adjusting the shoulder plates to rest flat on top of him. He had fought in 4 wars, each of which lasted more than two years, but even after spending that much time in his armor, it still felt uncomfortable. He loosened the straps on his greaves, but as he did so they flopped loosely against his shins.

The heat certainly didn’t help the matter either. Hundreds of princes and kings had gathered for the princesses’ swayamvaras, and they had spent the last 4 hours gathering in front of the king’s palace, waiting for the commencement. Shalwa had been here just as long as any other prince, and already he could see heat waves rippling off of the metal plates. The sun was unrelenting; it was almost midday, and it would only get hotter from here. He wiped the sweat from his brow. 

Shalwa had come for the hand of a princess, as everyone else had, though he knew which one would choose him. He had met Amba, the eldest princess, two years ago, and in secrecy, they had sworn oaths of marriage. “You know my father won’t approve of you. He has gone past wanting me to be happy, he only wants the best things in the world for me,” she had told him. “I don’t care if your kingdom is small, or your palace poor, I want to be with you. Thankfully, my sisters agreed to a swayamvara by combat; we will be betrothed to the three winners of a great tournament. You must tell no one, and more importantly, you must win.”

Shalwa obeyed his beloved’s command, and told no one of the tournament, but it was less than a month later that he began hearing murmurs of King Benares’s planned announcement. Five months passed, and even the common folk were speaking of a tournament. He wasn’t surprised this morning when all the kings and princes arrived clad in armor.

Shalwa began sharpening his sword, but on the third stroke, the commotion of armored nobles began to hush. As he stood up, Shalwa could see King Benares standing at the top of the palace stairs. The murmurs fell to utter silence, and his voice boomed over the crowd. “Kings! Princes! Nobleman from faraway lands! I welcome you to my daughters’ swayamvaras!” The crowd erupted into a loud applause. “My daughters have all agreed. In a husband, they want not the richest of kings, not the most handsome of men, but the most valiant of warriors! And thus, starting today, we will be hosting a great tournament for my lovely daughters’ hands in marriage!” The crowd erupted once more, but this time, each contestant yelled out his best battle cry.

As the crowd quieted, the king continued. “The brackets will –”

“My apologies, grand king, but I will determine the rules.” The voice was quieter than the king’s, but Shalwa could still hear it. Shalwa’s eyes darted to a smaller figure ascending the base of the palace steps.

As Shalwa laid eyes on the man, a chill went down his spine. The man’s hair was jet black and long, falling to his waist. His moustache and beard were just as long and swayed in the wind like silk. He wore nothing on his torso and loosely fit black pants on his legs. His shadow clung to his skin unnaturally, but never touched the ground. When he turned his eyes to the crowd, they were a shining green. In his hand he held a bow which took the shape of many black and green snakes. When Shalwa looked at it, he swore the snakes moved, and in the back of his mind, he heard them hiss.

The man took the bow, and with the fang of one of the snakes, he drew a fine line in the sand. This time he yelled so that the whole crowd could hear him. “My name is Bhishma, and I will be making the rules! Anyone who crosses this line wins. If no one crosses, I win, and I take the princesses.” The king was standing behind the man with his mouth hanging open. Before the king said anything, a great beast of a warrior began yelling from the crowd. He pushed the other kings out of his way and ran at Bhishma. Like lightning, Bhishma drew his bow and fired an arrow straight through the warrior’s armor. Where it landed, shadowy snakes erupted from the man’s skin and bit his face. He howled in pain for a moment and then fell silent.

“Will there be any other contenders?” Many kings glanced meekly at each other. King Benares mouth still hung open, but his face had changed from confusion to fear. The palace guards, just as taken aback as the king, had failed to act, but now they charged in unison at Bhishma, spears pointed at his heart. Bhishma spun around, his hands a blur of shadows, and barraged the guards with arrows. Not a single one missed, and all the king’s guards fell dead.

Yet just as the arrows plunged into the guards, one grand king, clad in gold and iron, yelled out to the rest of the kings, “today we fight not for the hands of the princesses, but to end this man’s life!” And with that, he and an army of armored kings screamed and charged forward. Shalwa grabbed his freshly sharpened blade, and charged with them, eager to cross Bhishma’s line in the dirt.

But Shalwa never reached the line. He reached a pile of kings lain out before the line, 6 feet tall, each with many arrows plunged into his armor. Some kings were climbing the pile, swords in hand, and crying battle cries, but many, like Shalwa, reached the pile and stopped. Shalwa closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and turned around. He stripped his armor right then and there, and walked to the city gate.





Author's Note: This is based off the story of Bhishma and the Swayamvara. In the story, Bhishma is not portrayed as a "bad guy," he is actually one of the protagonists. He has sworn an oath never to be king, and therefore tries to help his half brother rule the kingdom. Thus, Bhishma goes to a Swayamvara to take three princesses to make the wives of his half brother. When Bhishma arrives, King Benares announces a tournament, but Bhishma instead kidnaps the princesses, draws a line in the ground, and kills every king who tries to cross (and a number of small armies in the process.) Functionally, I didn't change the story's plot, only the point of view. Also, Bhishma isn't a dark sorcerer in the original story, only a fantastic archer. Shalwa isn't even revealed until later, but he was at the tournament, he didn't fight Bhishma, and he was secretly betrothed to Amba. Also, although this is an Indian epic, I had trouble imagining a tournament of armored men and not imagining european style equipment, so many descriptions will reflect that.



Image Info
Shalwa Clad in Armor - Deviant Art