‘Aye, the city looks like a rubbish yard. The Emperor could not conquer this?’ another man asked in genuine surprise. ‘Now that we are up in arms, maybe we should head down South. I hear southern women are freer in their ways. I could do with a victory parade, and a grateful lass.’

‘The South can sink in the gutter for all I care,’ the first voice spoke. ‘This is no fucking fun! It’s as if these Mlecchas were too tired to even raise their swords. And where are the ones we were sent to save?

Shishupal froze. Save?

‘We’ll find them. Still a long way to go.’

The voices grew distant as they left. Once the footsteps receded, Shishupal ran up the stairs. What did he mean by save? Eklavvya was sitting on the floor by the bed on which Lady Rasha slept. He paid them no heed as he stormed to the terrace. The moon came and went as the clouds tore across the sky. And in the flickering moonlight, he could see the banners, the red eagle flying high on the standards. He could not believe it.

Hastina had finally come!

He raised Eklavvya’s eyeglass and stretched it towards the Third Sister, or what remained of it, anyway. The Hastina army had attacked the rear of the Greeks, charging the exhausted, battle-worn Red Cloaks with full force. Armoured men on armoured steeds, stabbed and slashed at snarling Greeks. The last of the Mathurans, hope renewed, fought afoot, their horses down.

It was not a battle, it was a rout. The Greeks did not stand a chance. Many Red Cloaks readily surrendered. The Mathurans cheered wearily, embracing their Hastina allies as if they had saved the day.

Too late. Much too late.

As he scanned the horizon, Shishupal could see Mathura was finished, half drowned and half burnt. Whatever remained had been smashed underfoot by airavats.

Eklavvya came to stand beside him. ‘Somehow, we have survived the night, friend. It’s all over, eh?’

The answer came in a way Shishupal least expected. The earth tolled like a gong. A rumbling quake shook the ground. They turned as one in the direction of the First District. On the horizon, a jade pillar of fire rose skyward with an earth-shattering explosion, ferociously reshaping the dark sky. Their eyes followed the column upwards, higher and higher. The pillar seemed to rise from the ruins of the Iron Curfew. Swirls of green swayed away from the pillar of fire in the sky in great bands, as if Prakioni herself had unfurled her green locks. It continued to claw upwards with a sizzling roar in an explosive struggle.

And then the jade column slowly softened in the night. A large mass of darkened dust floated in the air. The night sky looked like an open wound.