Shouts erupted as rag-tag crews of farmers and labourers ran out of their houses with burning torches, cudgels, pitchforks and clubs, stabbing, smashing and poking the belly of the second airavat from down under. Shishupal was sure they did not have a plan or even what had suddenly inspired them, but he for one did not begrudge their patriotism. The more bodies between Shishupal and certain death, the more comfortably he breathed. Meanwhile, the Silver Wolves looked at each other, then Storm uttered one word that captured the essence of the moment: Yay!

The Wolves charged, joining in the fray. They dodged the bladed tusks of the airavat in the front, and ran to charge at the Greek soldiers behind, who had rallied against the citizens. Once the Wolves had run past, the line of crossbow-women left behind peppered the mahout of the first airavat with their bolts. The confused airavat, anchorless, just stopped and looked around, confused, like a bride’s father who no one paid attention to after the dowry had been given away.

‘Let’s go!’ said Eklavvya cheerfully.

Shishupal was only glad to be on the other side of the airavat. Worming against the wall, he finally slipped behind the beast. Eklavvya’s maniacal laughter snatched his attention. He saw Eklavvya holding a Greek, impeccably dressed, against the wall by his neck.

‘By the Spirits, you are one ugly bastard, aren’t you?’ he said as he stabbed the eyes of the soldier with his fingers. He turned to Shishupal, smiling hard as the man screamed. ‘Look at the pox-marks on his face? He looks like a diseased leaf!’

STORM smiled grimly as a Red Cloak charged her. His spear raked her shield. She threw her shield aside and chopped down with her steel. Blood sprayed over her gauntlet as she carved the man open from neck to navel. On the other side of the street, Bleed and Rain brought down a cavalry archer between them. While Bleed ran to finish him off, Rain spun around and threw a spear she had picked up from a Greek, at another cavalry archer, throwing him off his horse onto the cobbled stones. Storm laughed. Ever since she had seen that boy laugh like a madman as he stabbed a poxed Greek in the eye, she was filled with the blood song. It was infectious. She was so drunk with slaughter now that she felt she could have taken on an airavat one on one.