Shishupal had never liked ports, rivers or fogs, and the three together were like a nightmare come true. Fog was known to be a spy’s friend, shielding him from the eyes of men. No one had ever told him that it shielded the world from the spy as well. Men and women emerged from the mist like ghosts, and giants turned out to be buildings. Twice, he lost his footing and landed ankle-deep in puddles of icy water.

Suddenly, instinct made him dash into the shadows of a tavern’s backdoor. He had suspected for a while that he was being stalked, but actually holding the culprit in his hands had a way of reaffirming it. The stalker struggled for a brief moment in Shishupal’s grip, then began to laugh.

‘You!’ Shishupal thrust the boy against the tavern wall.

‘Tis true, Eklavvya is the Princess Draupadi, cleverly disguised. Save me from my husbands, Sire!’

‘Arggh…’ Shishupal squeezed tighter. ‘You think spying on your colleague is the finest of ideas?’

‘Spying on a spy, you mean. Such a novel notion. Eklavvya was merely walking behind you, attempting to catch up, for despite his many gifts, long strides were cruelly left out by the Spirits to make him appear more human to ageing eyes. Shishupal looked bored. Eklavvya thought to spice things up.’

‘I still do not understand why you wasted your Contest boon to come on this cursed punishment with me.’

‘Friend, one man’s punishment is another man’s pleasure,’ Eklavvya said, pulling at one of the fetishes with which his braids were amply supplied.

‘I still don’t understand how I ever agreed to come on this cursed mission,’ Shishupal grumbled.

‘Requesting exile as self-punishment for what happened in Panchal may have been a noble sentiment, but asking it of the Emperor who lost out on Panchal support due to Krishna’s schemes, may not have been a wise idea.’

Shishupal nodded glumly.

‘Also, asking it of an Emperor who was livid with his son for marrying without his consent, murdering innocents, and causing a riot in Panchal, was perhaps not wise either.’

Shishupal sighed.

‘Asking anything from the Emperor was perhaps the worst idea of all…’

‘Yes, yes, I get it! It was a rhetorical question. Come to think of it, I got away easy. I have no fondness for the Prince, but he should not have been slapped by the Emperor in public. It was not…kingly.’

‘Aye, but then Eklavvya used to be hung upside down from a tree and whipped on a daily basis. It gets the blood running, you know.’

Shishupal shook his head, his thoughts drifting once again to the Panchalan swayamvar. My own wedding pales into insignificance before this one. Yudhistir, Arjun, all of them… mysteriously back from the dead, along with their mother. Duryodhan’s battered body found by some fishermen in Kampilya, washed ashore. The House of Kauravas has too much drama for my taste.