A scorching sun blazed over a dusty plain beyond Hastinapura, the earth baked hard and cracked, shimmering with heat that rose in rippling waves. Horses snorted and pawed the ground, their hooves kicking up clouds of dust, while wooden targets stood scattered across the expanse—discs painted red, propped on poles that swayed faintly in the dry wind. The air was thick and hot, carrying the sharp scent of sweat and leather, and the plain stretched wide and unforgiving, a thundering stage ready to test the princes' balance and aim.
Drona stood at the plain's edge, his lean frame steady against the glare, his tattered white robes dusted with grit from the wind. His gray hair was tied back tight, and his dark eyes gleamed with a stern, expectant fire as he faced the Kuru princes. In one hand, he held his staff, its tip planted firm in the cracked soil; the other rested on the reins of a sturdy black horse beside him. The princes gathered near a line of mounts, their tunics clinging with sweat, their bows in hand as they squinted into the blazing sun.
Bhima bounced on his toes, his massive frame dwarfing the horse assigned to him, his broad grin flashing wide as he slapped its flank with a loud thud. "Horses today, guru?" he said, his voice booming over the plain, startling his mount into a sidestep. "Ha! This is my kind of fun! We riding into battle or what?"
Drona turned to him, his expression calm but unyielding, his voice cutting through the heat with steady force. "Not battle, Bhima," he said, his tone deep and firm, settling the horse with a gentle pat. "Archery. You'll shoot from horseback, mid-gallop. Hit those targets clean. Balance and aim together."
Bhima's grin widened, his eyes lighting up as he grabbed his bow with a laugh. "Shooting while riding?" he said, his tone bright and eager, swinging himself onto the horse with a grunt. "I'll smash those discs! This beast and me, we'll charge right through!"
"Charge less, aim more," Drona replied, his voice dry and patient, handing him the reins. "Keep it steady. Start when I say."
Nakula and Sahadeva darted forward together, their lithe forms weaving through the horses, their twin grins flashing as they picked two sleek brown mares. "This is our game," Nakula said, his voice quick and light, vaulting onto his mount with ease. "Right, Sahadeva?"
"Born for it," Sahadeva replied, his tone swift and bright, swinging up beside him. "We'll hit every target before they blink!"
Arjuna approached more slowly, his lean form quiet and thoughtful, his sandals scuffing the dust as he took a gray stallion's reins. His tunic shimmered with sweat, his bow slung over his shoulder, and his dark eyes studied the horse with a mix of caution and curiosity. "From horseback," he said, his voice soft but eager, glancing at Drona. "This is new, guru. Any tricks to it?"
"Balance first," Drona said, his gaze settling on Arjuna with a flicker of warmth, nodding at the horse. "Feel the rhythm. Let it guide your shot. You'll find it."
Duryodhana strode up last, his chin high, his dark hair sticking to his brow as he gripped a black horse's reins tight. "Riding and shooting?" he said, his voice low and edged with a grumble, his brow furrowing deep. "This is a mess. I'll barely stay on, let alone hit anything."
"Stay on and aim," Drona replied, his tone stern and sharp, meeting Duryodhana's scowl. "Skill's the test. Mount up."
The princes swung onto their horses, their movements a mix of grace and struggle, the plain rumbling with the snort of beasts and the creak of bows. Bhima's horse bucked at once, its hooves kicking dust as he clung to the reins, his laugh booming loud. "Whoa there!" he shouted, his voice ringing out, nocking an arrow mid-wobble. "This thing's got spirit! Let's go, guru!"
"Ride," Drona said, his voice clear and firm, stepping back with his staff raised. "Hit the targets. Now!"
The horses thundered forward, their hooves pounding the earth, dust swirling in their wake as the princes gripped their bows. Nakula and Sahadeva took the lead, their mares galloping smooth and fast, their bodies low and synced with the rhythm. "First one!" Nakula called, his voice quick and thrilled, drawing his bow mid-stride. His arrow flew true, striking a disc dead center with a sharp thud, and he grinned, glancing at his twin. "Your turn!"
"On it," Sahadeva replied, his tone swift and bright, loosing his shot as they galloped past. The arrow hit another disc, splitting the wood, and they whooped together, their laughter light on the wind. "Two down!" Sahadeva said, his eyes gleaming.
"Keep it up," Drona called, his voice steady and proud, watching from the edge. "You're naturals!"
Bhima's horse bucked again, rearing high as he flailed, his arrow slipping from his fingers to thud into the dirt. "Ha!" he said, his voice loud and cheerful, wrestling the reins with a grin. "This beast's fighting me! Forget the targets, I'm just staying on!" The horse spun, kicking up dust, and he fired wildly, the arrow sailing wide into the plain. "Missed!" he laughed, his tone unbothered, clinging tight as it bucked once more.
"Control it, Bhima!" Drona shouted, his tone dry but firm, stepping closer. "Shoot when it's steady!"
"Steady?" Bhima said, chuckling as he yanked the reins, his horse snorting in protest. "This thing's a storm! I'll get one yet!" He fired again, missing by a mile, and flopped forward, laughing loud. "This is harder than wrestling!"
Arjuna gripped his stallion's reins, his body stiff at first, his horse galloping unevenly as he struggled to draw his bow. "Balance," he murmured, his voice soft and tense, his arrow wobbling as he aimed. The first shot flew wide, thudding into the dust, and he frowned, adjusting his stance. "Got to feel it," he said, his tone steadying, urging the horse faster. His next shot struck a disc's edge, grazing it, and he nodded, loosing another mid-gallop. This one hit true, cracking the wood, and he smiled faintly, patting the horse's neck. "One," he said, his voice calm and sure, riding back toward Drona.
"Good," Drona said, his pride clear, his staff tapping the ground. "You're adapting, Arjuna. More."
Duryodhana rode stiffly, his black horse jolting beneath him, his jaw clenched as he drew his bow. "Stupid beast," he muttered, his voice a growl, aiming at a disc ahead. His arrow grazed its side, skimming off into the dirt, and he cursed under his breath, urging the horse on. "Close," he said, his tone sharp and bitter, firing again. The second shot nicked another target, barely holding, and he scowled, reining in hard. "One," he said, his voice low and grudging, glaring at the dust.
"Grazes aren't clean," Drona replied, his tone stern and steady, watching him ride back. "Hit it square, Duryodhana."
The plain roared with their galloping, the air thick with dust and the whistle of arrows—Bhima's chaotic misses, Nakula and Sahadeva's swift strikes, Arjuna's rising precision, Duryodhana's stiff grazes. Nakula and Sahadeva raced ahead, their mares weaving through the targets, their arrows flying in perfect sync. "Three!" Nakula shouted, his voice quick and triumphant, hitting another disc as Sahadeva struck a fourth. "We're unstoppable!"
"Four!" Sahadeva called, his tone bright and swift, grinning at his twin. "One more?"
"Let's make it five!" Nakula replied, his eyes gleaming, urging his horse faster.
Bhima's horse spun again, tossing him sideways, and he slid off with a thud, landing in the dust with a booming laugh. "Down I go!" he said, his voice loud and cheerful, sprawled on his back. "No hits, but I've tamed this beast my way! Right, guru?"
"Tamed?" Drona said, his tone dry and amused, stepping over. "It threw you, Bhima. No targets either."
"Threw me with style!" Bhima replied, grinning as he hauled himself up, brushing dust from his tunic. "I'll stick to my feet next time!"
Arjuna galloped past, his stance smoother now, his arrows striking two more discs with clean thuds. "Three," he said, his voice soft and steady, reining in beside Drona with a nod. "It's coming together."
"Strong," Drona said, his voice warm and firm, clapping Arjuna's shoulder as he dismounted. "You've found the rhythm."
Duryodhana trudged back, his horse snorting, his scowl deep as he wiped sweat from his brow. "Two grazes," he said, his voice low and sharp, kicking at the dirt. "This is a fool's game."
"Fools miss," Drona replied, his tone stern and unyielding, meeting Duryodhana's glare. "Skill hits. Work on it."
The sun dipped lower, the plain glowing gold with its fading light, and Drona called them in, the dust settling as the horses slowed. "Enough," he said, his voice ringing clear, his staff tapping once, twice. "Nakula and Sahadeva, four hits, clean and fast. Arjuna, three, solid shots. Duryodhana, two grazes. Bhima, none."
Bhima laughed, leaning on his horse, his chest heaving as he wiped his face. "None's my score again!" he said, his voice loud and cheerful, grinning wide. "But I've got the best fall! That counts, huh?"
"Falling's not winning," Drona said, his tone dry but fond, shaking his head. "Aiming is. You'll get there."
Nakula dismounted, nudging Sahadeva with a grin. "Four's a haul," he said, his voice quick and light, stretching his arms. "We owned this!"
"Next time, five," Sahadeva replied, his tone bright and swift, mirroring his twin's stretch. "We're the kings of the saddle!"
Arjuna slid off his horse, his breath steady, his smile warm and quiet. "Three's good, guru," he said, his voice soft and honest, patting the stallion's flank. "Took a bit, but I felt it."
"You did," Drona said, his pride clear, nodding at him. "You rose to it, Arjuna."
Duryodhana swung down, his scowl dark, his voice low and sharp. "Two grazes," he said, glaring at Nakula and Sahadeva, then Arjuna. "They're showing off. I'll beat them next time."
"Beat them with hits," Arjuna said, his voice calm and teasing, meeting Duryodhana's glare with a smile. "Grazes don't count."