Duryodhan’s hand moved to his sword but Shakuni’s left arm shot out and stayed his hand. Slowly, he shook his head. They were not alone. Seemingly drunken revellers wandered about, throwing them curious glances. Each wore an unseasonably heavy coat, concealing all kinds of weapons no doubt. Figures darted above. Duryodhan mouthed, ‘Rooftop,’ jerking his chin to where the silhouettes moved, carrying thin, curved bows.

Shit. Where was Karna when you needed him? Shakuni grunted and limped forward. ‘You appear to have us at a disadvantage, My Lady. You must really like me to follow me all this way.’

‘That ship sailed long ago, Cripple.’

‘To what do we owe the pleasure of your company?’

‘I just want to have a conversation with you,’

Shakuni spread out his arms, his cane dangling from one hand. ‘Splendid. Over a midnight repast, perhaps?’

‘Somewhere slightly more uncomfortable and private.’ She gestured ahead. ‘At the next corner, turn right. You will see an open door, second building. Go in. Follow directions.’

Sure enough, the door stood ajar when they got to the indicated spot. Duryodhan hesitated.

‘Do not act the fool, Prince,’ the woman’s voice said. ‘If I wanted you dead, you would already be on the floor, less a head. Hand over your weapons or your Uncle will forfeit his life, or whatever remains of it.’

Duryodhan handed over his weapons to the ruffians who appeared behind him. Then they began to hit him with batons and sticks, nothing sharp, and not on the head. She is right, Shakuni thought, they don’t mean to kill him.

‘Unfortunately, there is just room for one on our boat,’ the woman said, turning to Shakuni as the ruffians began to drag Duryodhan’s battered figure away.

Shakuni felt sweat trickle down his face. Urgent footsteps sounded, then strong hands seized him. Murdered in the shadows like a rat. Perfect ending, I suppose.

Apparently, he was not at the end of his line, for the woman said, ‘They will escort you safely to your quarters.’

Shakuni raised an eyebrow. ‘Surely, abducting a Prince instead of the Princess at a swayamvar, being unorthodox, will attract the unwanted attention of a host of unsavoury people with arms? If you could mayhaps give me a time and place where we could meet to discuss terms?’

‘He will return to you soon,’ the woman said.

‘Presumably with all his limbs?’

That elicited a muted chuckle. ‘That depends on your good behaviour, Cripple. Keep this quiet and he will live. Needless to say, my men will be all around you at the ceremony tomorrow. You can make whatever excuse you think fit for him. Perhaps that he is too cowardly to show his face among real men.’

Shakuni wondered whether it would be apt to reveal that Duryodhan was not participating, but decided against it. ‘I don’t suppose Why are you doing this? would fetch a response?’