‘If only we were in Balkh. You would have to pay tax on your winnings…and I would have got the money back.’

Shakuni laughed. They watched the heroes of Aryavrat march forth, each more fabulous looking than the last, each failing more miserably than the one before. The crowd booed each suitor who failed, as he made the long walk back to his seat, dejected and forlorn. Shakuni had not had so much fun since Dhritarashtra had slipped in the mud and fallen face first in his garden.

But the whistling and laughing of the drunken revellers set like the moon before dawn as the Magadhan Emperor rose. The Emperor was participating himself! In the gallery, all eyes turned to Shishupal, who cringed in embarrassment. ‘He insisted…’ was all he said.

Jarasandh had the build of a wrestler. Shakuni saw how Karna shifted uncomfortably in his seat. Ah…a threat, I see. But when Jarasandh did not run his hands over the bow, Karna heaved a sigh of relief.

‘He won’t be able to lift it,’ Bahlika said. ‘The iron makes it too heavy.’

Jarasandh grabbed the bow. Veins bulged along his arm as the bow moved, then shook, and in a flash was high in the air. The crowd was on its feet, caste and clan forgotten. Cheers erupted from all corners. Karna’s mouth hung open, his eyes gleaming in admiration.

Shakuni wasn’t sure what to think. ‘Did he…?’

‘He picked up the bow using brute force, didn’t he?’ Bhurishravas said.

‘It would seem so,’ Karna found his voice. ‘But the sheer strength required…’

Shakuni’s eyes fell on Krishna, seated in the shadows behind Draupadi and laughed aloud at the deep frown that suddenly appeared on his face, as if trying to shatter Jarasandh’s focus with his will. But Jarasandh curved the bow, the veins on his arms popping out with the strain, a blue tint to his sweat. After the bowstring had been tied to the notch, Jarasandh dropped the bow, breathing heavily. It was perfectly curved now.

‘Can he do it?’ Bahlika asked.

‘I don’t know…’ Karna murmured. ‘The strain on the back from such exertion will make it very difficult to align the bow for any length of time. He would have to shoot immediately.’

Jarasandh stretched his arms and picked up the bow again, using his gargantuan strength. As Karna had foretold, he did not hold the bow high for long. One look at the reflection below and the long wooden arrow whistled and screeched through the air, piercing the wheel with a resounding thud. All eyes were on the reflection of the fish in the mirrors. The arrow had lodged cleanly on one of the spokes of the wheel. Jaws dropped, but none more than Krishna’s.