‘I reckon that makes sense,’ Satyaki nodded sagely. ‘No wonder Lady Satyabhama has adopted them. But the way, she is training them is fanatical! It’s like she knows another battle is coming. Are we not shifting to Dvarka to avoid a battle?’

‘Battles take place all the time, young one,’ Krishna said. ‘She just knows we are going to lose the next one.’

Satyaki gave another grim nod. ‘Die in a mock battle today, live to become a legend tomorrow.’

‘Inspiring words, Satyaki. Perhaps you can be a legend by opting not to bunk our next drill,’ said a stern voice. In the rising dust they saw Satyabhama leaning down from the balcony of a house that jutted out over the narrow street leading to the Market Square.

Satyaki barely suppressed the urge to flee. ‘War Mistress,’ he said, bowing. ‘Didn’t see you there. Yes, yes, of course. Just the duties of the Senate and all this tunnel business you know. Tiring stuff.’

Satyabhama threw him a scornful glance. ‘The scarecrows are supposed to be foolish citizens, too dumb to move on their own. Perhaps you can join them, Satyaki.’

‘Remind me to bring Akrur when I’m out in the streets’, Satyaki whispered to Krishna. ‘He is a true martyr, taking her blows for the team.’

But Krishna wasn’t listening. ‘A really wicked idea with the scarecrows, Satya,’ he said. She nodded curtly.

‘The Seven protect me! Even Krita reported for training today,’ Satyaki said, pointing. ‘Now I must really make myself scarce.’

Kritavarman clouted a hapless Silver Wolf recruit on the side of her head, hard enough to leave her sprawled unconscious in the dust. Quick as lightning, another Wolf appeared and threw the fallen one over her shoulder and carried her from the battle. Krishna recognized Storm. If Storm is here, Rain was sure to be somewhere close by. Rain and Storm had grown a reputation for being a legendary pair of sword-dancers in the Silver Wolves, famous for their in-sync fighting formations.

As Kritavarman jogged up the dusty track to the barricade where Krishna and Satyaki stood, a figure darted out, colliding sideways with Kritavarman and tossing him into the air. He crashed against the wall of a nearby house. Rain, Krishna mused. Satyaki grinned as he helped Kritavarman up from the dust. But Rain wasn’t done yet. She charged again, this time at both Kritavarman, and Satyaki’s frail form.

Krishna raised his hand. ‘That’s enough, Rain. Take Storm to the healer.’ Rain stopped short of punching Satyaki in the jaw.

‘I’m fine,’ said Storm, rising weakly. She scowled at Krishna, her face all bunny teeth and glowering suspicion under a pixie haircut. ‘I was bait, Lord Krishna. You ruined it.’

‘My apologies Storm, for caring about Satyabhama’s favourite Wolf.’

‘She said that?’ Storm looked up at Satyabhama on the balcony, in sudden delight. ‘She really said that?’

‘No.’ Satyabhama’s voice was flat. ‘He says that to every Wolf.’