Seems like someone heard her wish. There was one airavat left, the one bathed in hot gavel and oil. The mahouts with their drums had managed to turn the retreating beast towards the Mathurans again. Storm went for his hind legs while Whistler and Bleed, flanked by three City Guards, ducked around the mighty tusks, slashing at the snake-like nose. But that only drove the bastard mad. The airavat tore through the ranks of Mathurans. Limbs flew. Blood sprayed. Storm saw none of this. ‘Out of my fucking way!’ she screeched, shoving a Mathuran aside and using the body of another as a platform to jump. The way Satyabhama had. Metal flashed. And like a plough through soft soil, her steel dug into the meaty part of the beast’s tail, cutting it off. The airavat lost its balance and collapsed against a wall head-first, crushing Bleed.

Storm ran to Whistler, and helped her drag Bleed out. Only then did she notice Bleed’s legs had been left behind. Whistler let the legless body drop and ran past Storm, screaming like a maniac at the Greeks, sword in the air.

MATHIOS had heard the Mathurans consumed drugs that drove them into a frenzy. The woman who charged at him did indeed look half-mad, swinging her sword even after he had chopped her down. His Captain had commanded them to retreat to a parallel alley after the last airavat collapsed into a wall. The coward wanted to hide. Not Mathios. He wanted to attack from the front, and win his olive branch, and finally scram enough for his daughter’s dowry. But he followed the Captain, for if there were none to witness his actions, who would reward him?

Explosions rocked the alley into which they had retreated, sending clouds of dust that momentarily lifted the entire place from darkness. Ah, my moment of glory! Mathios left his Captain and charged towards the Mathurans, who were engaged with a squadron of Greeks ahead, two airavats amidst them. He raced past an airavat and slid his dagger into the neck of the first woman he saw. She fell to her knees, one hand clutched to her throat. Mathios did not wait. He moved to the next woman, thrusting his dagger into her spine and dragging it upwards. The woman turned, clawing weakly at his breastplate, bubbles forming on her lips. He pulled out the blade, wiped it on the woman’s sleeve and shoved her aside. What kind of men sent women to do their fighting?