Oh no, you don’t! Shishupal realized what he was going for. He turned to see Jarasandh place his palms flat on the table. Shishupal was sure the Emperor was controlling himself from snatching one of the bottles and smashing it over Kalyavan’s head.

‘I will attack Mathura from the South and East with all my might once the Armistice is over,’ The Emperor spoke, as calmly as he could manage. ‘You will attack Mathura from the North-West. And bring your blazebane with you.’ It sounded ominously like an order. ‘When Krishna and Balram are dead, along with the rest of the Mathurans, you can take the credit for being the War General.’

Kalyavan did not utter a word. His expression was unwavering as he waited for what he actually desired. Jarasandh sighed as he leaned back, kneading his eyes with the heel of his palms. ‘And once Mathura is won, you will get the Syamantaka jewel. I swear this. You can send me the parchment to seal and sanctify.’

Kalyavan did not pause for so much as a momentary breath. He immediately bent the knee to the Emperor with a flourish. ‘My Assyrian sword and my army are at your disposal, Emperor Jarasandh.’

The Mlecchá had anticipated this. Shishupal glanced at Shalya, who looked dissatisfied but gathered himself. ‘That…uhm, that is good. Shall we, uhm, now partake of the sumptuous dishes Lady Rasha has prepared for us?’

‘Some other day,’ Kalyavan said, rather too sharply. He must have realized this from the looks he received, for he added in a softer tone, ‘Forgive me, Emperor. I am tired and my time here is short. I wish to take in the delights your fine capital has to offer. Let us break bread when we are well rested and do not have the stink of griffin dung to ruin our appetites. No offense, My Lady. It has been a pleasure.’ He took Lady Rasha’s hand without permission and softly kissed the air above her palm. Shishupal wondered what that felt like, then ferociously evicted the thought from his mind.

‘Will I be seeing you at the Panchalan swayamvar, Emperor?’ enquired Kalyavan casually.

‘Perhaps,’ Jarasandh replied, his voice hard.

Kalyavan was not daunted by this curtness. ‘Lord Krishna will be there I hear,’ he said nonchalantly. ‘And he has this intriguing habit of winning the woman at every swayamvar he attends...by fair means or foul. Something to consider, eh? Imagine if Panchal joined the Yamuna Wars.’ He let the dire words hang in the air. ‘Shalya, I hope the accommodations you have arranged will be as pleasurable as always? Your servant, Emperor.’ Kalyavan turned and strode out of Lady Rasha’s mansion without waiting for the Emperor’s permission to retire.

Did Kalyavan really not know he was a hair’s breadth from being flayed in the most imaginative way possible? But Jarasandh apparently had other things to engage him and gave Shishupal no orders.