‘I’ve sent some of my rowboats upriver. It is clogged with the debris of the Magadhan ships. Our boats are trying to clear up the mess, but it will take time. And Lord Ganesh is moving carefully so the ships don’t sustain any damage. So he will take some time to get here.’

Kartik nodded.

‘But he has been informed about your great victory, Lord Kartik,’ said Maatali. ‘He is very proud of you.’

Kartik frowned. ‘It’s not my victory, Your Highness. It’s our victory. And it would not have been possible without my elder brother, who destroyed the northern end of the Magadhan navy.’

‘That he did,’ said Maatali.

‘My Lord!’ hailed Divodas, crossing over from the dense forest to the sands of the Bal-Atibal Kund. Still weak from injuries and bandaged across his shoulder, he was being assisted by five men as they together dragged something with ropes.

It took Kartik a moment to recognise what they were dragging. ‘Divodas! Treat him with respect!’

Divodas stopped at once. Kartik ran towards them, followed by Bhagirath and Maatali. The corpse they had been dragging was that of a tall, well-built, swarthy man. His clothes and armour were soaked dark with blood, and his body was covered with wounds, some dried and black, others still fresh, red and wet. His skull had been split open near his temple, showing how he had died. His injuries were too numerous to be counted, clearly indicating the valour of this combatant. All the wounds were in the front, not one on the back. It had been an honourable death.

‘Surapadman...’ whispered Bhagirath.

‘He was on the southern front, My Lord,’ said Divodas.

Kartik pulled out his knife, bent down to cut the ropes tied around Surapadman’s shoulders, and then gently lowered the fallen prince back onto the ground. He noticed Surapadman’s right hand, still tightly gripping his sword. He touched the sword, its blade caked with dried blood. Divodas tried to pry open Surapadman’s fingers.

‘Stop,’ commanded Kartik. ‘Surapadman will carry his sword into the other world.’

Divodas immediately withdrew his hand and fell back.

Surapadman’s mouth was half open. The ancient Vedic hymns on death claim that the soul leaves the body along with the last breath. Therefore, the mouth is open at the point of death. But there is a superstition that the mouth should be closed quickly after death, lest an evil spirit enters the soulless body.

Kartik closed Surapadman’s mouth gently.

‘Find the chief Brahmin,’ said Kartik. ‘Prepare Surapadman’s body. He shall be cremated like the prince that he was.’

Divodas nodded.

Kartik turned to Bhagirath. ‘We shall wait till my brother returns. Surapadman will then be cremated with full state honours.’