The Mathurans had suddenly advanced in their direction. Fumbling, he’d tried to draw an arrow from his quiver. Just then, Cilix was rammed against him by a tall woman’s shield. Tellis had faltered and the arrow loosed from his fingers had flown up into the air, and returned to dig itself deep into Cilix’s neck. Tellis now stared blankly at the tall woman, barely realising that he had murdered his friend, even as she crashed into him with her shoulder, dropping him to the ground. She stomped on his neck with her boot and charged ahead. Tellis coughed out blood, happy not to have been hacked by her sword. Someone screamed near him: Die! Die! He tried to turn towards the voice but realised he could not. His neck was broken. Oh fuck.

RAIN heard Storm roar Die! Die! behind her as she stabbed a boy on the ground. Onward. The Greek formation had finally broken, making it easier for her to slash with her blade. She cleaved another man like meat, opening great blood-spitting wounds. She dodged an arrow and broke a bow as a Greek tried to defend himself. There were more Greeks ahead, forming a shield-wall. She crashed into them before they could, her swing slicing open the neck of the shield bearer closest to her. Other Wolves crashed into the shield line, howling. The line finally faltered as they lurched back and fell.

Rain snarled as she swung and hacked. The fire of battle had faded, her arm was feeling sore from having held the shield for so long. Her legs shook. The Greeks retreated, turned and ran. Rain decided against chasing them.

‘You, alright?’ Storm leaned over, grinning. Rain saw she was gripping her arm, blood oozing from between her fingers.

‘Why’re you grinning like a fool?’

‘Because you’re obviously too old for a suicide charge, my love,’ retorted Storm.

Rain grunted, forcing herself to stand erect. She knew Storm was right. She was too old for this shit. She picked up her shield again. Her stubbly hair was matted with blood. Greek war cries sounded in the distance. ‘You, okay?’ she asked.

‘Ah, this...a scratch.’

‘Bleeding a lot for a scratch, no?’

‘You call this a lot? Look, they’ve started raining arrows on the centre,’ Storm grinned. ‘Come, we got to move. Try and keep up this time!’

SHISHUPAL ran after the Silver Wolves in a daze. The Wolves had blazed through the first line of Greeks. Turned out that most of the Greeks had retreated to their camps beyond the First District, with Kalyavan, as Krishna had said. Shishupal wasn’t complaining. The fewer Greeks we encounter, less likely we die here.