Bees swarmed over the elongated gardens stretching on both sides of the pathway in sun-struck explosions of black and yellow. It was just dawn, but the air was already hot. A crude scattering of rock lay on the pathway like pox on a damsel’s face, conspiring to topple him at every step. This cobbled path through the rose gardens was the only way to the King’s chambers. Unfortunately for Shakuni, it was a hazardous one. He chose to limp through the garden instead; the soft soil absorbing the force of his cane. It hurt less. As he went, Shakuni slashed the rosebuds out of existence with his cane. Useless fucking flowers. He winced with every step, but destroying the roses gave him the satisfaction and strength to make it through. He saw a few Resht gardeners, keeping well in the shadows, eyes on the ground. Shakuni chuckled. The privileged few blessed with the opportunity to serve. It is a good thing Aryavrat has banned slavery, he thought sardonically.

His right palm felt sore on the cane as he craned his neck upwards at the archway at the end of the garden. It was cast in bronze, topped with the great red eagle of the Hastina Union, its feathers delicate flakes of black opals and fiery rubies. All the gems looted from Gandhar seem to have found their way into this one ugly structure. Shakuni spat at the foot of the arch as he walked through. Creating an arch of colours for a blind man is akin to me participating in a race.

A rising stairway cruelly interrupted his thoughts on fiscal prudence. Shakuni stared at his old nemesis with familiar spite. One step at a time. The stairs were an oft fought enemy and his campaign was well planned. First came the easy stretching of the left foot, aided by a hobble of the waist. Second came the wooden cane tapping musically on the ground. And then the eternity of pain that stabbed through his right toe, right ankle and right rump as he dragged the right leg forward.

After conquering twenty steps through a litany of curses, he stumbled at the twenty-first step. His cane trembled in his hand. Shakuni stiffened. Here it comes, my companion, my shadow, my wife. Here it comes. The pain descended upon him like an avalanche. His spine hurt with the jolt. His teeth grated on each other as he half-collapsed against the wall. He stared up at the last few steps of the stairway with watering eyes. Great! Now I must suffer this agony twice, he groaned as he wiped the snot from his nose with the back of his free hand.