‘Forgive my curiosity Eklavvya, but...’ he grasped for another topic, ‘how are you so good with the sword and the bow despite…’

‘Despite Eklavvya’s disability, you mean.’ He waggled his nine-fingered gloved hand.

Yes. ‘No, I meant despite the difficulty.’

‘Eklavvya does not let the thing he cannot do interfere with the thing he wants to do.’

‘Admirable. So…you…lost your thumb… was it to some animal or frostbite— If you do not mind my asking?’

Eklavvya’s boyish face suddenly turned older. ‘Animals are nobler, Shishupal. It is humans one needs to worry about. Let’s just say the more sheathed the betrayal, the deeper the gash…’ He pulled off the glove to show the stump where his thumb used to be. The scar was a jagged circle, a woad tattoo drawn on it in the shape of a bear. The cut left no doubt that it had been sawed off with a blade.

Someone did this to him! This was why Shishupal desired a sheltered existence, where boys were left whole, women had single-coloured eyes, and goats were the only creatures sacrificed by priests.

Eklavvya nudged Shishupal. ‘Do not grieve for Eklavvya, friend. Though Eklavvya can never be as good as he used to be, he is grateful for it. For with a full set of ten fingers, Eklavvya would have no foes to challenge. Now the others at least have a chance.’

Shishupal laughed. ‘Very humble of you.’

‘Eklavvya was born with the mark of humility on his left bum.’ His hand suddenly darted out and pushed Shishupal down as a hammer went flying over their heads.

‘Assassins!’ Shishupal unsheathed his dagger.

Eklavvya laughed, helping him up. ‘No, no, just the usual evening entertainment in Valka camps. Best keep an eye out.’

Red-eyed, worried and hungry, Shishupal drew his cloak tighter and kept his head low as he warily surveyed the stirrings in the massive smoke-wreathed Valka encampment. Misstepping in a Valka camp was akin to pissing on an angry snake. The Valkas were considered to be exotic barbarians by cityfolk, though their civilization was far older than those who made such judgements. They were divided into numerous clans, each identified by their woad tattoos. Some said the tattoos depicted the history of their families. Duels to the death between rival clan members were common, tolerated, and even encouraged.

The Imperial briefing on the forestfolk all those years ago, had been detailed and thorough, and Shishupal could pick out the various clans by the standards fluttering above the haphazard groups of tents. He saw the troublesome banner of the two-hundred-strong camp of the Arja Clan, who were distinguished by their enormous neck rings. Perhaps the wildest of the clans was the Esseram, avowed enemies of the Nora Clan. With painted faces and strange nose-rings, they were dancing to a distinctive drumbeat when Shishupal walked past. Many of the clansmen paused their dance to briefly nod at Eklavvya.