Casteism was rare in Kalinga, for most of them did not know which caste they belonged to. The Namins had been banished years ago, when they had attempted to preach against the Sea Gods. With them gone, there was no one to etch each child with the mark that signified their caste. In Chilika, you were either a free man or a slave, a pirate or a merchant.

‘You’re getting a lot more candour out of me that I am wont to offer,’ he said, surprised at himself.

‘Pity we don’t have more time. I would have flayed your soul.’

He called himself Aradh. On the crew register, he was marked as a lowborn Angan steward, bound for Chilika to trade in horses on behalf of his master. She knew it to be a lie. Men of honour made pitiful liars. His shoulder bore deep bow marks, which marked him as an archer, not a steward. His being lowborn was true enough. The two tears, mark of a Resht, were seared deep into the left side of his neck. But she let him keep his lies. It wasn’t as if she was a role model of honesty.

As she ripped his linen shirt down to his waist, the glint of gold welcomed her, like fire from the sun. ‘After the numerous times I’ve ridden you on this cursed voyage, you would think I would have got used to this…’ Imagine its worth in the market. Her eyes sparkled with greed as she studied the armour he wore under his shirt. It was very thin, and gleamed with inner fire, as if the Gods had polished the gold themselves and wrapped it around his chest. It was the same colour as the rings in his ears. She licked her lips. For once, stop thinking like a fucking pirate. She had often run her hands over his chest, exploring to find what held the strange armour tightly secured to his torso, but he always held her hand still. She never made much of it. He was probably worried she would steal it. And rightly so. Or maybe he was hairy. Perhaps he had a third nipple. She had had her share of men with three nipples.

‘Has not anyone tried to rob you of all this gold?’ she had asked him.

‘They have tried,’ he had answered in a tone that had ended that conversation.

‘Are you married?’ he had asked in return.

‘They have tried,’ she had replied, and that had been the end of that conversation.