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ridding our lands of their kind, but his success brought with it a peril
     of another kind – I’ve lost count of the number of Wrights and Wright-impostors who’ve sold themselves tothe highest bidder, even to would-be foreign invaders. At least, the name of Ghora Angirasa, the fear of the Secret Keeper,
     kept these mercenaries and their masters in check. With his death … You realize this changes the situation in Aryavarta completely?’
    Bhisma nodded. ‘This is the kind of weak ambivalence Jarasandha has been waiting for. He’ll use this opportunity to solidify
     his hold over Aryavarta. Most likely, he’ll try to make us all fully-subjugated vassals, rather than amicable allies.’
    ‘My sentiments exactly. The Emperor has little allegiance to any cause. Firewright, Firstborn – all are the same to him.’
    ‘The fault is yours! If the Firstborn had not stood so firmly behind him, Jarasandha would never have risen so quickly to
     become Emperor. He only had to promise to rid Aryavarta of every living Wright and you and your father were more than eager
     to see him rule. You did not even realize that he owed you no loyalty, nor did he do you any favours. The Firewrights were
     the reason why the previous Emperor, the King of Matsya, was reduced to nothing, and Jarasandha knew better than to make the
     same mistakes as his predecessor. At the same time he is not above using the Firewrights for his own gain and, indeed, he
     has brought some of them into his service under the pretext of destroying them. Now he is unstoppable, and it is the kings
     of Aryavarta who must pay the price for the Firstborn’s folly!’
    ‘We did what we had to then, as we need to now. But, yes, you’re right. The Emperor is not above using the Firewrights he
     took in. We need to hunt down any Wrights who may be left – whether in Jarasandha’s custody or otherwise – before he can put
     them to use. And I have just the man for the task.’
    Bhisma paused, realizing whom Dwaipayana was referring to. ‘Do you trust him?’ he asked, frowning.
    ‘He’s the best his father ever trained, the princes of Hastina included. And I suppose there’s something to be said for his
     blood and ancestry after all. He’s a dangerous man, one of the few who can find the last few Wrights who remain unaccounted
     for, no matter where they hide or who protects them. As for us, we need to turn ourattention to more refined, though equally important, issues. There still remains the matter of Jarasandha’s huge armies. This
     kingdom has neither the money nor the military strength to defend itself, particularly if we’re attacked from both the east
     and the west. Nor do we have enough political leverage, or the right kind of alliances, and we certainly can’t presume on
     the Emperor’s kindness, no matter how good a friend of Syoddhan’s he claims to be. The Kuru kingdom is in a precarious position.
     We must act at once.’
    ‘We need Southern Panchala on our side,’ Bhisma said. ‘Dhrupad’s armies are formidable and his treasuries brim over.’
    ‘So take Southern Panchala! Or do you need me to teach you how?’
    Both men stared at each other in the silence that followed, each angry with the other for being able to provoke such emotion.
     They knew they had little choice but to trust each other, yet there was the childish need to gain the upper hand and put the
     other down. At length, an unspoken consensus settled in, and the conversation continued.
    ‘I trust Dhrupad,’ Bhisma pointed out. ‘But his children, his sons … they’re grown men now. Is it really possible to rely
     on their loyalty?’
    ‘True. Diplomatic ties alone won’t suffice, not in times such as these. When Dhrupad gives his daughter in marriage, she must
     be brought into the house of the Kurus.’
    ‘I didn’t hear she was to be married …’
    ‘You soon will. I intend to go to Kampilya right away and remind Dhrupad of a father’s duties towards his