‘Our ravens to Panchal were killed by Greek scouts. And the father bears no love for the daughter. I am not hopeful, there. But do not be overly concerned, My Lords. As I said, they need a fortnight. We have all seen the Greek encampments. They don’t have the numbers to hold out for a long siege. Five days perhaps,’ Krishna said. ‘I doubt they’ll last even that long. We will do what we have always done. Wait.’

‘But the Third Sister…’ began Akrur.

‘The Third Sister is down, yes,’ Krishna said in a strong voice that silenced the murmurs, ‘but blazebane cannot reach over the Second Sister without the siege towers, which we have destroyed. Their catapults will never make it through the Lower Districts. Even if they do, the alchemical blankets are working. The process of extracting carpets from every noble house to supplement them is also underway. Without blazebane and siege towers, the Greeks can do nothing to our Walls. They are of course, trying to climb up,’ he laughed. ‘But Mathura cannot be easily impregnated. Remember, we have a fortnight. Help will come. And if it doesn’t, we will have ample time to use the tunnels.’

The Senators nodded, as if in a trance, somewhat reassured by Krishna’s confident words. Krishna sighed. Hope was a strong drug, especially when someone mixed it in your drink without telling you. He sank back in his chair and folded his arms. His eyes turned to Satyabhama. She was looking at him intently. Her eyes were pretty, but they were unfortunately imprisoned in a resting-bitch face.

Deep breaths. There was nothing to worry about. Krishna knew he had time. He would find a way out of this mess. If not, they would escape through the tunnel under Syamantaka. He cursed silently, wondering what had possessed him to let that dolt Yudhistir take his griffin.

The door of the Senate Hall flung open. Akrur turned, frowning. ‘What is the meaning of this? This is a closed War Council—’

‘My Lords! Someone has opened a gate in the Second Sister! The Greeks have entered!’ a page announced, half shrieking. Cold hands coiled around Krishna’s throat.

Balram walked over to him with the charm of an evil glacier. ‘There goes your fortnight,’ saying which he left him in a gloom of silence.

II

Krishna had not closed his eyes all night. He had passed into a strange warlike wakefulness that lay in the realm beyond the jurisdiction of exhaustion.

‘The Second Sister was first breached two days ago,’ Balin, Captain of the Republican Army, explained in a monotonous tone, as if describing the weather. ‘The first two assaults were driven back and we held the Burnished Gardens that night. But with our forces concentrated on that single breach, they were able to climb the eastern section of the Second Sister, and storm into the Plaza of Freedom. Ever since, the entire central section of the city has been one long marathon battle during the day,’ the Captain reported. ‘We mounted a few successful raids of our own under cover of darkness. Not a single step of Mathuran soil has been given without soaking it in Mlecchá blood.’