‘Shush child,’ Satyabhama bit back the hint of a smile. ‘Say no more. There is strength in those tears, you know. But if you will not have them, come, join us. We were just heading to the Council Chamber. Be forewarned, Bheem will be there.’

‘Wouldn’t you like to clean up first?’ he called from behind her.

‘My bloodied clothes always help you make your point, Krishna.’

II

Ugrasen stood by the window which gave a clear view of the ramparts as well as the Second District, for the Keep’s eastern side was connected to the inner walls of the Iron Curfew. In fact, there were catwalks on the lower levels for ease of communication of instructions from the Council to the Curfew. Krishna joined him by the window, and followed his gaze to the battlements, where five Red Cloaks dangled from a rope by their wrists, burning. He had no affinity for such torture. The drawn-out agony, the stink, the shrieks, it was all inhumane. But there were no trophies for good behaviour in battle. Maybe those Mlecchás would think again before they tried to creep in under cover of darkness and disturb the well-earned sleep of his people.

Beyond the Curfew, another flock of Red Cloaks could be seen streaming through the Second District in bloodied confusion. Ever since the gates of the Second Sister had been opened to the Greeks by a traitor, plunder had been the word of the day. The soldiers had managed to escort many of the citizens inside the Iron Curfew, especially those who carried gold. The ones who did not, hid in houses, hovels or holes in the ground in the Second District, hoping the Greeks would simply ignore them and move to shinier houses. Here and there, the remnants of the Republican Army and City Watch held on, but they could do little to compromise the Red Cloaks’ advance.

‘We have nothing to worry about,’ Ugrasen rumbled. ‘The Iron Curfew is impregnable.’ Nonetheless, his voice shook. Till a few days ago, the Second and Third Sisters had been impregnable too.

‘The Evacuation has begun. Some soldiers have gone ahead to clear the way. But now with the Red Cloaks streaming into the city, I doubt we will find any foes when we emerge. I suggest the Council start moving with the first batches—’

‘NO!’ Kritavarman and Balram cried in unison.

‘We will exit last. Guerrilla tactics is one thing,’ Kritavarman said. ‘Running away and abandoning your people is against the creed of war and honour.’

So is dying, Krishna thought. ‘Against the creed of Ksharjas,’ he corrected, ‘which we incidentally are not.’

‘What are the words we live by, Krishna?’ Balram interjected. ‘Deeds, not birth.’

I could just leave them here to die, Krishna reflected, knowing he never would. Why did they have to be such fools?

‘Where is Satyaki?’ Kritavarman asked suddenly. ‘Taken a headstart into the tunnel, has he?’

‘I have sent him on a mission,’ Krishna said.