Tall grasses bent under a warm breeze in a shaded grove near the Ganga's banks, their tips brushing against each other with a soft rustle. Late morning sun filtered through the leaves of sprawling banyan trees, casting dappled patches of light across a spread of woven mats. The river churned nearby, its current swirling deep and dark, flecks of foam catching the glare as it rushed past. A makeshift feast lay scattered over the mats: clay bowls of steaming rice, chunks of roasted meat glistening with fat, and flatbreads stacked in uneven piles. Flies buzzed lazily over the food, darting away as hands waved them off, and the air carried the mingled scents of cooked spices and damp earth.
Duryodhana lounged near the center mat, his dark tunic pristine despite the dusty ground, his legs stretched out as he leaned on one elbow. His small hands fiddled with a twig, snapping it between his fingers, and his dark curls bounced slightly as he tilted his head. A tight smile played on his lips, sharp and thin, as he watched Bhima across the mats. Bhima sat cross-legged, his broad frame hunched over a bowl, his loose vest flapping open to show a chest already smeared with sweat. He scooped rice with his fingers, laughing as he shoved it into his mouth, grains sticking to his chin. Duhshasana sprawled beside Duryodhana, his fair hair tangled from the morning's run, kicking at the grass with restless feet. Shakuni lingered at the edge, his black robes swishing as he shifted his cane, his narrow eyes glinting under the shade.
Duryodhana snapped the twig again, his voice sliding out, sly and smooth as he pushed a clay plate toward Bhima. "Eat up, Bhima. Big feast for a big man. You'll need it out here." He nodded at the meat, its surface glistening, laced with the kalakuta poison he'd sprinkled earlier, his smile tightening as he watched.
Bhima grinned, his voice booming, cheerful and loud as he reached for the plate, his broad hands dwarfing it. "Tasty stuff! More of that, eh? Beats palace slop any day!" He tore into the meat, his teeth ripping through it, and he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, grease smearing as he laughed again, a deep rumble that shook his shoulders.
Duhshasana kicked the grass harder, his voice shrill and quick as he glanced at Duryodhana, his fair hair bouncing. "Yeah, eat it all! Big belly like yours—stuff it full!" He giggled, a high, wild sound, and punched the air, his small tunic creasing as he rocked back.
Shakuni's cane tapped the ground, his voice low and oily as he leaned forward, his black robes catching the breeze. "A feast indeed. Strength for the river, Bhima. You'll swim like a fish today." He tilted his head, his grin crooked, and his narrow eyes flicked to Duryodhana, a silent nod passing between them.
Bhima swallowed a mouthful, his voice gruff and bright as he grabbed more rice, his fingers sticky. "Swim? I'll dunk you lot first! This is good, real good. Who cooked it?" He looked around, his dark curls bouncing, and he clapped his hands, dust puffing off them as he grinned.
Duryodhana's smile held, his voice smooth and teasing as he stood, brushing his tunic. "Some servant, probably. Come on, big man. River's waiting. Let's see you splash." He stepped toward the bank, his boots sinking into the soft earth, and he waved Bhima along, his small frame buzzing with a hidden thrill.
Bhima lumbered up, his voice loud and cheerful as he dusted his hands, his vest flapping. "Splash? I'll make waves! Lead on, little prince!" He laughed again, his broad shoulders shaking, and he followed Duryodhana, his steps heavy, oblivious to the poison creeping through him.
Duhshasana jumped up, his voice shrill and wild as he trailed behind, his fair hair falling into his eyes. "Waves! Sink instead—go deep!" He clapped his hands, his giggle sharp, and he hopped over a root, his small fists pumping as he watched Bhima's back.
The river loomed ahead, its dark water swirling faster near the edge, reeds bending where it lapped the bank. Duryodhana stopped a few feet from the drop, his voice sly and quick as he turned, his tight smile glinting. "Swim deep, oaf. Show us how it's done. Go on." He stepped aside, his small hands hovering near Bhima's shoulder, waiting.
Bhima grinned, his voice bold and gruff as he kicked off his sandals, his broad feet bare. "Deep? I'll touch the bottom! Watch this!" He took a step closer, his head tilting as a faint dizziness flickered, his brow creasing. He shook it off, laughing, and moved to jump.
Duryodhana's hands shot out, his voice dropping to a mutter, low and fierce as he shoved Bhima hard, his palms flat against his back. "Stay down, fool. Stay there." Bhima stumbled, his arms flailing, and he tumbled into the river with a massive splash, water exploding around him as he sank, the poison numbing his limbs.
Duhshasana clapped, his voice shrill and wild as he leaned over the bank, his fair hair bouncing. "Down he goes! Stay under, big oaf! Stay!" He punched the air again, his giggle echoing, and he turned to Duryodhana, his small frame trembling with glee.
Shakuni's cane tapped faster, his voice soft and sly as he limped closer, his black robes swishing. "Under, yes. The Ganga takes him now. Well done, nephew." He nodded, his narrow eyes glinting, and he rested a hand on Duryodhana's shoulder, his grin wide.
Duryodhana watched the water, his voice low and tense as bubbles broke the surface, his small fists clenching. "Gone. Good. No more of his noise." He crossed his arms, his dark tunic tight, and his tight smile faded, his breath held as the river churned.
Under the dark water, Bhima sank, his broad frame limp, his dark curls floating as the kalakuta dulled his senses. The current tugged him deeper, reeds brushing his arms, and then shadows moved. Nagas slithered from the riverbed, their scales glinting green and gold, their eyes sharp as they coiled around him. Sent by Vasuki, their king, they hissed, their venom seeping into him, burning the poison away. Strength surged, a hot pulse through his veins, and his eyes snapped open, wide and blazing, his chest heaving as he kicked upward.
The river erupted, water spraying as Bhima burst from the surface, his broad frame dripping, his roar shaking the grove. "Who pushed me? I'm back!" He hauled himself onto the bank, mud streaking his legs, his fists clenched and trembling, his dark curls plastered to his head. The mats lay abandoned, the feast scattered, and Duryodhana, Duhshasana, and Shakuni were gone, their footprints fading into the grass.
Bhima stood, his voice fierce and loud as he scanned the grove, his broad chest heaving. "Cowards! Run off, eh? I'll find you!" He shook his fists, water dripping from them, and his roar rolled over the river, his eyes narrowing as the betrayal sank in, sharp and raw.
The grasses swayed, the breeze picking up, and the Ganga rushed on, its dark water swallowing the echo of his shout. Bhima's sandals lay by the bank, one tipped over, and he kicked at them, his voice gruff and fierce as he bent to grab them. "Poison, was it? Felt it. Didn't stick. Ha!" He laughed, a hard, wild sound, and he slapped his chest, mud smearing, his strength a new fire pulsing through him.
He straightened, his voice booming as he turned toward the palace path, his broad frame casting a long shadow. "Stronger now! Little prince'll see. I'm coming!" He strode off, his steps heavy, his fists still clenched, the river's edge quiet behind him, the mats a silent witness to the failed plot.