The grandsire could not swallow the wine. To ease his breathing, Vilhan raised the old man’s head. However, when he gazed intently into the eyes of the Chief Justice he caught his breath. Then, lowering the grandsire’s head to the couch, Vilhan beat his head with both hands and burst out crying.

The sitting room was once again filled with men and women. The palace rang with cries of lamentation. The grandsire’s sons, grandsons, great-grandsons, ladies of the house, attendants, doorkeepers, maidservants, porters and chamberlains, all cried bitterly.

In the misty sky of late winter, even the stars appeared to have blurred in sympathy.

Dara

THE SHATUDRI¹ RIVER FORMED THE SOUTH-EASTERN FRONTIER of the Republic of Madra. On its western bank, the caravan of the slave trader Pratool had been camping since the previous evening. Two more caravans were also awaiting clearance from the state tax authorities, in order to be allowed to cross the river. Before traders crossed the frontier, and went over to foreign territory, the customs officers of the state checked their possessions and levied whatever taxes were due.

The slave trader Pratool had dined and drunk the previous night with the Chief Customs Officer. Since Pratool frequently travelled the route, he was well acquainted with the officer and was on friendly terms with him. Seven months earlier, while bringing dark slaves from Dakshinapath into Madra, Pratool had presented the customs officer with a Sinhalese pearl ring, and had promised that while returning from the north, he would bring him back a sapphire from Kashmir. But despite the friendly relations that existed between the two and the previous night’s carousal, the necessary formalities expected of a tax collector had to be observed.

Seven months earlier, Pratool had imported one hundred and thirty-five slaves, both men and women, from Dakshinapath. On his return he brought with him one hundred and sixty-five slaves. There were Greeks, Kashmiris, some fair-complexioned slaves from Uttarapath,¹ but the majority of them were female slaves from the newly conquered territory of Darva—light-eyed, fair-complexioned, with curvaceous bodies. After every battle on the frontiers, there would be a boost in the trade in slaves. The tax collector examined the palmyra-leaf document containing details of every slave, and satisfied himself that none of them was a runaway, had been kidnapped or was a Brahmin by birth.

Holding the seal of the Republic of Madra in his hand, an assistant examined the manifest, and drew the attention of the customs officer to one of the entries, ‘Seven months ago, the trader Pratool entered the territory of the Republic with one wife, six slave-porters and two slave-attendants, a boy and a youth. Now, while returning from the state, he has with him two wives. Besides, he is travelling with a fair-complexioned slave in place of the dark-complexioned slave. The trader has sold within the borders of Madra the dark slave whom he brought as a personal attendant. No tax was levied on that slave. Since the slave has been disposed of, tax to the amount of one nishk² must be paid.’