‘My Lord, whatever he may have been like,’ said Surapadman, ‘he was my brother. I must avenge his blood.’

‘That Naga killed my brother as well, Prince Surapadman,’ said Shiva, referring to Brahaspati, the Chief Scientist of Meluha, who was like a brother to him. ‘I will call you to battle when the time is right.’

Shiva’s entourage left Magadh quietly. Unlike any other city that Shiva had been to, both in Meluha and Swadweep, there was no jamboree organised to see him off. His coming and going had been secret from most people in Magadh. Surapadman however had come to the Magadh port incognito to pay his respects to the Neelkanth before his departure.

The ships sailed in the standard Meluhan convoy formation with the main ship carrying the Neelkanth and his companions, surrounded on all four sides by a ship each. Regardless of which side an enemy cutter came from, they would have to fight through an entire battleship before reaching the Neelkanth’s craft. A crucial role in this formation was played by the lead ship. It was the speed controller for the entire convoy. It had to sail slow enough to protect the Neelkanth’s ship from the front, but be fast enough to afford enough space for Shiva’s ship to slip through and escape if need be. A Chandravanshi captain was in command of the lead ship and he was doing a spectacularly inept job. He was speeding at a maniacal pace, perhaps to show the prowess of his vessel. This kept opening up a breach between his lead boat and Shiva’s vessel. Parvateshwar had to keep blowing the ship horn to alert the lead boat Captain and slow him down.

Tired of this inefficiency, Parvateshwar had decided to travel in the lead ship to teach a thing or two to the Chandravanshi captain about the basics of naval defence formations. Considering the task at hand, Parvateshwar was distressed that Anandmayi had, for some inexplicable reason, decided to also travel on the lead ship.

‘So why are we so slow?’ asked Anandmayi.

Parvateshwar turned from the balustrade at the fore of the ship. He had not seen her tip-toe to his side. She was standing with her back to the railing, her elbows resting on it lightly with one of her heels placed on the block at the bottom of the railing. Her posture had the effect of raising her already short dhoti a fair distance up her right leg and stretching her bosom out provocatively. Parvateshwar, uncomfortable for some reason he could not fathom, stepped back a bit.

‘This is a naval defence formation, Princess,’ laboured Parvateshwar, as if explaining complicated mathematics to a child unprepared to understand. ‘It would take me a lifetime to explain it to you.’

‘Are you asking me to spend a lifetime with you? You old devil, you.’

Parvateshwar turned red.

‘Well,’ continued Anandmayi, ‘it will certainly not take me a lifetime to tell you something quite basic. Instead of trying to keep our lead boat agonisingly slow, simply tie a rope of approximately the right length from here to the main ship. Then have a soldier posted at the back who signals every time the rope touches the water, which would mean that the lead vessel is too slow and should speed up. And if the rope becomes taut, the soldier can relay a signal that the lead ship should slow down.’

Anandmayi slipped her hands into her hair to straighten them out. ‘You’ll make much better time and I will be able to get off these ridiculously small quarters into a more comfortable Kashi palace.’

Parvateshwar was struck by the ingenuity of her suggestion. ‘That is brilliant! I will immediately have the captain execute these orders.’

Anandmayi reached out a delicate hand, catching hold of Parvateshwar and pulling him back. ‘What’s the hurry, Parva? A few minutes will make no difference. Talk to me for a while.’

Parvateshwar turned beet red at both the corruption of his name and Anandmayi’s unyielding grip on his arm. He looked down at her hands.

Anandmayi frowned and pulled her hands back. ‘They’re not dirty, General.’

‘That’s not what I was implying, Princess.’

‘Then what?’ asked Anandmayi, her tone slightly harsher.

‘I cannot touch a woman, Princess. Especially not you. I am sworn to lifelong celibacy.’

Anandmayi was aghast, staring as though Parvateshwar was an alien. ‘Hold on! Are you saying you are a 180-year-old virgin?!’

Parvateshwar, chagrined at the completely inappropriate conversation, turned around and stormed off. Anandmayi collapsed into a fit of giggles.

Vishwadyumna heard the soft footfalls. He immediately drew his sword, giving hand signals to his platoon to do likewise.

Their platoon had moved deeper into the forests south of Magadh after the skirmish with Prince Ugrasen and his platoon. The Naga had been injured seriously and was not in a position to travel far. They had travelled as fast as they could without risking the Naga’s life, as the angry Magadhans scoured the land for the killers of their prince.

Vishwadyumna hoped the sounds he was hearing did not come from the Magadhans. His Lord was in no state to fight. Or flee.

‘Put your sword down, you imbecile,’ whispered a strong feminine voice. ‘If I’d really wanted to kill you, I would have done it even before you drew your weapon.’

Vishwadyumna did not recognise the hoarse whisper. Perhaps, the tiredness of long travel or the cold of winter had roughened the voice. But he certainly recognised the tone. He immediately put his sword down and bowed his head.

The Queen of the Nagas emerged from the trees, leading her horse quietly. Behind her was her trusted Prime Minister, Karkotak, and fifty of her elite bodyguards.

‘I asked you to do just one simple thing,’ hissed the Queen. ‘Can’t you ensure the protection of your Lord? Is that so difficult to do?’

‘My Lady,’ whispered a nervous Vishwadyumna, ‘the situation suddenly got out of...’

‘Shut up!’ glared the Queen, throwing the reins of her horse to one soldier, as she walked quickly towards the cloth tent at the centre of the clearing.

She entered the cramped tent and took off her mask. On a bed of hay lay her nephew, the Lord of the People. He was covered in bandages, his body limp and weak.

The Queen looked at her nephew with concerned eyes, her tone kind. ‘Are we now in alliance with the tribals also?’

The Naga opened his eyes and smiled. He whispered weakly, ‘No, Your Highness.’

‘Then in the name of the Parmatma, why are you risking your own life to save one of the forest people? Why are you causing me so much grief? Don’t I have enough on my plate already?’

‘Forgive me, Mausi, but haven’t I already taken care of your biggest source of tension?’

‘Yes, you have. And that is the only reason why I have come all this way for you. You have earned the devotion of all the Nagas. But your karma is still not complete. There are many things you need to do. And stopping some royal brat from what you believe is wrong does not figure high on that list. This country is full of repulsive royals who abuse their people. Are we going to fight every single one?’

‘It is not that simple, Mausi.’

‘Yes, it is. The Magadh prince was doing something wrong. But it is not your duty to stop every person who does something wrong. You are not Lord Rudra.’

‘He was trying to kidnap a boy for a bull race.’

The Queen sighed. ‘It happens all over. It happens to thousands of children. This bull fighting is an addictive disease. How many will you stop?’