It took some time to clear the confusion. Shishupal felt like an idiot, but in his defence, he had never heard of a ‘griffin breeder’. Normal people did not think of mating an eagle with a lioness. But he could sympathise with the obsession. Ever since they had seen Krishna ride into the air on a griffin, the Magadhans had been obsessed with obtaining griffins of their own. It was obviously unfair. The Magadhans had a goddamned Lion as their sigil. The Mathurans had a cow. If Krishna had flown on a cow with wings, Shishupal was sure no one would have given it a second thought. But a half-lion, now that was difficult to swallow for any proud Magadhan. Adventurers and opportunists had scanned the known world for griffins, but come back empty-handed. They did find a few eggs, but these did not hatch. And thank the Light for that! As if a cat’s hump and a tail on an eagle made it somehow a fine idea to climb on its back!

Lady Rasha seemed to be however in the business of using these so-called retrieved eggs to create a creature magnificus, but progress was slow. Surajmukhi was an adult griffin, yet she was the size of a puppy. Huddled on Lady Rasha’s lap, the creature looked positively timid, rather than the roaring lion-bodied-eagle customers would pay gold for.

‘The Emperor is running late, I see,’ Lady Rasha said, the consonants sharp enough to cut through teak wood.

‘The Emperor never runs late, my dear Lady, it is we who are early,’ interjected Shalya Madrin, Lord of Madra, who had been listening to the interchange.

Shishupal had no way to verify it as he did not get around much, but Shalya seemed to be an important Lord. Anyone whose paunch walked into the room before the rest of him, was surely most important. Shalya, however, soon lost Shishupal’s attention, which was now focused on a more pressing problem. Surajmukhi, who had trotted up to him, had placed her muzzle between his legs. She was a small thing. But what Surajmukhi lacked in size she made up with her piercing glare. She looked up now at Shishupal, gently drooling something acidic over his thighs. He made vicious jerking motions to dislodge the creature.

‘You know,’ Lady Rasha said, ‘if it’s a bother, you can just pat her underside. Oh, don’t worry. Unfortunately, they don’t bite. As Kalyavan has informed you, her body proportions do not permit her legs to be opened for mating. Its chop chop for the tragic thing.’ Shishupal had no interest in touching the griffin’s belly, so he remained silent, getting used to the uncomfortable feeling of a malformed eagle getting comfortable in his nether regions.

‘And as for you, Lord Shalya, if I had a penchant for clichéd quotes, I would’ve studied the horoscope today.’