Krishna looked at Vial. She could not have been more than eleven summers. He had heard of her from Satyabhama. A lover of strays, she was singly responsible for the health of half the street dogs of Mathura.

‘Vial,’ Satyabhama said from behind him, startling Krishna, Vial and Garud alike. ‘Ten rounds.’

Krishna turned to look at Satyabhama with affectionate eyes, hinting at a pardon for the poor girl, but saw no quarter there. Vial gloomily nodded.

‘Of the First Sister,’ Satyabhama added.

Garud raised his head at that and turned sharply towards her, only to cower before her steely gaze. Vial looked down sadly. ‘Yes, War Mistress,’ she said, and grumpily headed out of the stable.

‘She is just a child, you know,’ Krishna said as he readied the saddle and climbed onto Garud’s high back with all the grace of a dancer.

‘A child barely rescued from the flesh-eating priests of Unni Ehtral. They would have mutilated her... Unlike most of the other Wolves, she has not been sanctified by the fire of pain. I want to make her strong, so that should the day come, she can face pain with a sword in her hand.’

Krishna sighed. ‘I was just saying… sometimes we can let the children be.’

‘Why do you think I did not stop her when I saw her sneak out of the ranks to play with Garud?’

Krishna smiled as he released the harnesses. ‘Please do not burn down Mathura in my absence, wife, or kill my brother, despite how annoying he is. I have just the one.’

Satyabhama smiled primly. ‘I promise nothing, Lord Husband. Also, Storm and Calm will accompany you to Panchal, as royal escorts. I daresay Garud can seat three. If I can’t be there to look over you, my pups can.’

Well played. Krishna eyed her teasingly.

‘Don’t flatter yourself. I am training those two to be more than mere soldiers. I could use some highbrows in the Wolves. I have asked them to dress in civilian clothes. And they are under strict instructions to chop Draupadi’s nose off if she so much as touches you.’

‘Glad to know,’ Krishna bowed. ‘Well met, Calm...Storm,’ he said as they emerged from behind Satyabhama. ‘What the…’

‘Is this what passes for civilian clothes, Wolves?’ Satyabhama rasped.

Calm, who probably even went to the privy in her uniform, was looking uncomfortable and red-faced in the man-suit she wore for funeral pyres. Whereas Storm…

‘Storm, civilian clothes mean clothes you wear outside of work,’ said Krishna dryly.

‘But this is what I wear outside work, my Lord,’ replied Storm reproachfully.

‘Don’t little boys run after you with stones when they see you dressed like this?’ Satyabhama asked.

Storm shifted uneasily. ‘Why would they?’ She adjusted her big feathered hat and pulled up her imitation gold-studded, flared pantaloons.

Krishna laughed. ‘Trust me Satya, no one will mistake them for guards. Come girls, heroes and Princesses, await.’