‘Of course, you have.’

‘I for one, stand with Krishna,’ Akrur said. ‘We should leave when the going is good.’

‘I won’t die a craven!’ Kritavarman hissed through clenched teeth.

‘Or a fool!’ retorted Balram. ‘Why are we sending soldiers with the people when we are desperate for defenders? If we were at full strength here, even without the Walls, they could never have taken us down.’

‘So much talk,’ Bheem complained, massaging his temples. ‘Let us go out and kill them. Without their blue fire, they are nothing.’

‘You stay out of it!’ Akrur bristled. ‘You’re no Mathuran. You shouldn’t even be here.’

‘Make me leave then.’ Bheem twirled his mace.

‘Boys,’ Satyabhama said in a voice that wasn’t really loud but hurt their ears as much it hurt their egos. She walked to one of the other windows and squinted out before saying, ‘Be Men.’

‘My apologies, Senators,’ Krishna sighed. ‘The stress of a siege gets to the best of us. But we cannot bicker amongst ourselves. Look at our Walls! The Greeks can fling themselves at the Iron Curfew all day for all the good it will do them. We have enough time to evacuate and escape, all of us. No one will be left behind.’

‘I have one doubt,’ Satyabhama said, squinting into the distance. Krishna was annoyed at being interrupted but her voice was uncharacteristically low. ‘I am sure Kalyavan knows all this. Not about the tunnels, but he must know that he cannot climb the Curfew for it is a lot taller than the Second Sister, and has a smaller circumference, making it easier to guard. So why the half-hearted attempts? It must be a distraction…’ She murmured this more to herself than to the others. ‘Any reports on movement in Magadh?’

‘Not that we know of,’ replied Balram. ‘And if the Emperor comes, it will be for Kalyavan, not us.’

‘I don’t understand,’ said Satyabhama. ‘That means Kalyavan is not stalling for help. They have made only one attempt to scale the Curfew. They are just crowding inside those houses—’ Satyabhama froze. ‘Krishna, pass me the eyeglass!’ He handed it to her but could not see what had snared her attention.

‘Why question blessings, War Mistress?’ Akrur asked, pouring himself another glass of wine.

‘Misfortunes often don the mask of blessings, Senator,’ Satyabhama said without turning. ‘Why are they carrying shovels into the houses?’ She pressed the eyeglass closer to her eye, as if that would make things clearer. ‘See there, and even there. Is a shovel needed in any way to create their catapults or siege towers?’

‘Axes, perhaps,’ Krishna said. ‘Can’t think why they would need shovels. And our sorties will never let them build a siege tower.’

‘What if he is not trying to climb over our walls?’ She turned so quickly towards Krishna that for a moment his head spun. He met her eyes, and like lovers in a dance they read each other’s mind. Under the walls.