Now there were twelve princes of the Rajput blood, and the youngest was the son of Padmini. What choice had these most miserable but to appease the dreadful anger of the Goddess? So on each fourth day a King of Chitor was crowned, and for three days sat upon the throne, and on the fourth day, set in the front, went forth and died fighting. So perished eleven Kings of Chitor, and now there was left but the little Ajeysi, the son of the Queen.
And that day was a great Council called.
Few were there. On the plains many lay dead; holding the gates many watched; but the blood was red in their hearts and flowed like Indus in the melting of the snows. And to them spoke the Rana, his hand clenched on his sword, and the other laid on the small dark head of the Prince Ajeysi, who stood between his knees. And as he spoke his voice gathered strength till it rang through the hall like the voice of Indra when he thunders in the heavens.
“Men of the Rajputs, this child shall not die. Are we become jackals that we fall upon the weak and tear them? When have we put our women and children in the forefront of the war? I—I only am King of Chitor. Narayan shall save this child for the time that will surely come. And for us—what shall we do? I die for Chitor!”
And like the hollow waves of a great sea they answered him,—
“We will die for Chitor.”
There was silence and Marwar spoke.
“The women?”
“Do they not know the duty of a Rajputni?” said the King. “My household has demanded that the caves be prepared.”
And the men clashed stew joy with their swords, and the council dispersed.