Shishupal ignored the jibe about his brother’s immoral reputation. His eyes were focused on the boy. Blood trickled through his four-fingered hand, which was awkwardly but firmly holding his shield high. Shishupal joined in, clapping profusely for such a gifted warrior.

Arena attendants scampered onto the field to help victor and vanquished alike. Shishupal saw the young knight help Dantavakra up, exchanging a few words with him. Dantavakra pushed away the fall of hair from his eyes and wearily shook the victor’s hand. He turned to the crowd and raised his trident. Shouts and cheers broke out again. Idiots! Cheering as if he had won.

Suddenly, a high-pitched scream made Shishupal turn. A herd of men were mumbling somewhere close by. He saw Dantavakra exchange a sombre glance with the winner as they hastily moved out of the arena. What was happening? White robed priests marched into the arena with the ominous discipline of an army. Priests. Shishupal’s mind filled with venom. Unni Ehtral. Fanatical worshippers of Xath and Yama. Narag Jhestal, the Head Priest, his head hooded under the sombre white cloak he wore, emerged from nowhere and stepped into the royal enclosure. The crowd quieted, as though the shadow of death had passed over them.

‘The Goddess of Light and Life has been kind to these noble warriors for she knows they are her horsemen, who will deliver gifts on her behalf to her twin, Yama, when the time comes.’ Jhestal paused for effect as other hooded men began to surround the arena.

‘Oh, no, no…’ Mayasur whimpered, cowering.

‘Don’t fret, Mayasur,’ Shishupal said, dragging Mayasur to one side. ‘You will be in trouble if you show fear.’ Shishupal eyed the crowd for anyone who might have overheard. ‘Though I still do not understand how did the noble families of Magadh permit the rise of a religion whose idea of faith justifies the abuse of its own devotees.’

‘Because it is an ancient instinct to be enslaved, to be in servitude,’ Mayasur spoke softly. ‘In the past it was the Daevas. Sometimes it is Kings. And now it is the Ehtrals. No different from the Namins, in fact.’

‘Namins?’ Shishupal asked, surprised.

‘The Namins managed to shroud their knowledge from the world, and convince ignorant smallfolk that their lives were somehow valued higher than the rest. As in love, the priests gained true power by withholding it. In this case, withholding knowledge from those whom they considered inferior. And they weren’t the only ones in history to do this. The Godlings or Nar Daevaks as they are known, inter-bred to keep their lines pure. The same with the ones whose blood was tainted. Uhm, they don’t count. They were exterminated. My point is that exclusivity makes something valuable. I suppose once the Ehtrals became popular, they closed their doors. Made it exclusive. And anyone who wasn’t quick to embrace it, was thrown outside the circle.’