‘Ugh!’ Storm grunted, looking like a mulish child. ‘All this heavenly food and I can’t even eat?

‘I told you to go for a Vedan saree, but you wanted a dress. Well, this is classic Balkhan wear. Sarees are easier…’

‘And messier. I would surely trip.’

Krishna sighed. ‘Leave then. Just see to it that Lord Niarkatt reaches his accommodations without incident. He seems to like the wine a little too much.’

‘Oh, thank you!’ Storm said with real gratitude. ‘And good luck with Karna.’ Storm waddled off like a duck in Niarkatt’s direction. Krishna shook his head and returned to Karna.

‘Suda, that’s the last sweet for you. We still have to eat the main course.’ The soft haired boy sulked but handed over the ladoo to Karna, who ate it in one bite. The embargo on sweets clearly did not extend to adults. ‘All well, My Lord? Lady Storm looked…uncomfortable.’

‘Just the clime,’ Krishna replied, looking at the boy. ‘What my mother would have given to buy a bit of that obedience when I was his age.’

‘He’s a good boy,’ Karna’s voice had a fatherly ring.

‘Where did you adopt him, Lord Karna?’ Krishna asked, knowing perfectly well who Sudama was. But his plan to embarrass Karna required some foreplay.

There was a moment’s hesitation, then Karna said, ‘He is my brother Shon’s son.’

‘I hope you do not mind my asking,’ Krishna dropped his voice to a whisper, ‘is Shon no longer alive?’

‘He just…became occupied with his goals. And sometimes what you want in life interferes with what you already have.’

When Krishna, claiming ignorance begged explanation, Karna exchanged a look with Sudama and said tersely, ‘My brother Shon is a member of the...Red Blades.’

Krishna had not expected such candour. You don’t lie, do you? ‘The militant group? A rebel then?’ he remarked nonchalantly, all the while eating his grapes, dribbling the seeds onto his lip, and then flicking them off with a finger.

‘A revolutionary cuts closer, Lord Krishna,’ Karna said flatly, putting an arm around Sudama’s shoulders.

Krishna silently mulled over an idea. The Red Blades were a bygone, almost mythical, rebellious group. It had spread its fire across the Riverlands years ago, aimed at establishing equality amongst all castes. Ksharjan knights who renounced their titles and lands, low caste soldiers, destitute women, abandoned daughters, fanatics, ascetics…there were many tales of these defenders of equality. But all agreed that they had committed unspeakable atrocities in furtherance of their goal. They had pissed on sacrificial fires, left dead cows in the verandas of temples, inducted untouchables into their ranks, and hung many Namin priests in their wake.

‘I understand why the Red Blades was formed a millennium ago,’ Krishna said, ‘but why now? We have given the lowborns much. Food, clothing, coin. It’s a time of peace between the castes. Why disrupt the harmony?’