‘Just how on earth did you find this island?’ Balram asked. His face was still strong and taut but lines extended in serried ranks from his eyes and ran down in deep grooves beside his mouth. Krishna no longer saw the man who had crossed the countryside of land and life with him… the brother had become distant in their journey from rags to royalty, and only the ally remained.

But Krishna smiled. He was too happy for Balram to ruin it just because Balram could never find a reason to smile. The coin from the Syamantaka had kept Mathura afloat, but that ship was sinking too. That had been the truth. No, he had needed more of a magical resolution to his troubles, an out-of-the-world idea. And just like that, in that opportune moment, when he had prayed the Gods would take heed, an out-of-the-world island, belonging to the Age of Heroes, had suddenly resurfaced out of the sea. Alantris, the Daevas had called it. It was a city from lore, which had sunk eons ago into the sea, but now rose to aid him to pull off the mother of all manoeuvres.

This was his grand plan. The greatest cover-up in human history. To slip Mathura away, right under the eyes of the Emperor, before the Armistice was over. The Magadhan Empire had no ships in the West. It was a good thing Krishna had a close friend in his father-in-law – Jambavan, who studied blocks that made up a land. It had been Jambavan’s extraordinary prediction that Alantris would rise again. And Krishna had made sure he was there with the Mathuran flag when it did. Now that he thought of it, he was reminded that he had to pay Jambavan a visit soon.

‘You know me, Brother. Always at the right place at the right time.’

‘You took advantage of us,’ Akrur groaned from his seat, an edge to his speech. He had drunk enough last night to sustain a small village. He took another sip of the lime juice and groaned again.

‘I remember you grabbing enough advantages for yourself, Lord Akrur,’ Krishna remarked dryly. ‘Why don’t you indulge me instead with proof of your penetrating comprehension of Mathuran defences. How do they stand?’

Akrur was spewed up like a broken spider. He had clearly drifted into the arena of the unwell. ‘Krita,’ he groaned, ‘answer him for me, I pray.’

‘The Mathuran Walls are strong enough but the Yaksha’s technique of using bodies seems to have undermined the Third Sister. Nothing we cannot handle. But we are short of coin. If what you say about the Syamantaka is true, we do not have enough to withstand a long siege. Not in any comfort. And if there are two sieges, not at all.’

‘Where did all the coin go?’ Balram asked.

‘In building underground tunnels, should the Walls ever fall.’