‘Lord Krishna, you should dress this way when you come to the Senate, to allow all your worshippers to truly admire you as Yami created you,’ he chuckled.

Krishna scowled but before he could answer, Kritavarman entered next, modestly dressed in Mathuran blue. Akrur had helped him with the transition to Chief, from kindness no doubt, though there was gossip he had done it to sway the Andhaka vote in the Senate; gossip started by Krishna himself. But what grabbed Krishna’s attention was the boy who followed close on Kritavarman’s heels.

Clad in a brown hide shirt, his long wild hair was confined in braids adorned with feather fetishes. His roughspun breeches were ribboned with leather stitching.

‘May I introduce,’ Akrur started in a honeyed voice, ‘Lord Eklavvya, Acting War-Chief of the Valkas? Lord Eklavvya, I must apologize for Lord Krishna’s state of ah…undress. The war bears differently on each of us. Some take it harder than others.’

‘What can one do, Lord Akrur, when I have to do all the running around for you?’ Krishna jerked his chin at Akrur’s ponderous belly. Half-naked or not, Krishna was not going to be thwarted in words by a charlatan. His eyes swung to the newcomer. Krishna noticed a thumb was missing from the right hand. The boy’s eyes looked guileless, yet they roved ceaselessly. ‘Greetings, Lord Eklavvya,’ he addressed him in Valkan.

‘Eklavvya is adequately gratified by your formal, nay flattering, welcome, My Lord.’ Eklavvya surprised everyone by answering in High Sanskrit. ‘But Eklavvya must confess he is no Lord. He is just an inquisitive inhabitant of the forests, who begged for the chance to come to cast curious eyes upon this joyous event. A simple ‘Eklavvya’, will suffice to appease his anticipating heart. And as for Lord Krishna’s state, well Eklavvya couldn’t be more grateful, seeing how he has taken cognizance of Valkan culture, where we often host talks naked.’

Suddenly, silence had a sound. Everyone was staring at Eklavvya. Krishna himself narrowed his eyes at the boy. Valkas were forestfolk, just one of the tribes that haunted the woodlands of the Empire, and were rather vocal against all things urban. It had been odd to find one of them so far from home. He had initially wondered why Magadh had sent a Valka as an emissary. They were uncouth savages who barely spoke Sanskrit, and took offence at the slightest provocation. Hardly the first choice for ambassador to a parley. Yet Eklavvya spoke the language of nobles flawlessly. A little too flawlessly for his understanding.

‘You are welcome, Eklavvya,’ Krishna finally managed to say. ‘It is our honour to receive such an erudite emissary in times of such turmoil.’

The Valka bowed again. ‘So, to matters at hand, Eklavvya supposes you enviable warriors are curious as to what he has to say in this momentous meeting of Magadh and Mathura?’

Akrur turned to give Krishna a queer look. The feeling is mutual, Krishna indicated with a shrug for he could barely keep track of what Eklavvya was saying. He turned to Satyabhama, who was smiling at the boy. Trust Satyabhama to gravitate towards mavericks.