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room.
    â€œI know this is most unexpected, and I hate to tear you away from the lovely banquet spread downstairs,” he spoke at last in measured tones, taking care to engage each and every pair of eyes that regarded him with curiosity. “But a matter of some concern has come up, and considering we are all here under one roof, I think it is best we discuss it forthwith. It’s something that the good king of Matsya has brought to my notice...”
    Vikramaditya paused and gestured to the man seated to his immediate right. “Would you be so kind as to share what you’ve told me with everyone, King Baanahasta?”
    Baanahasta bowed and stood up. He was lean and tall, with a dark angular face that was covered with a sharp, pointed beard, which he was prone to stroke during conversation.
    â€œPardon me for breaking up the celebrations, for what I’m about to say might amount to nothing,” he said, clearing his throat. “But the samrat believes there might be something in it.”
    â€œYou have our full attention,” Chandravardhan spoke with the clear intention of cutting to the chase, even though his words didn’t seem to imply this.
    â€œYes,” said Baanahasta. “The point is that we have been receiving some disturbing reports in Matsya. I admit the reports aren’t official; they come from opium farmers living in the hills, from goatherds... even mountain bandits captured by my soldiers. But there’s a pattern in what they say.”
    He paused and drew a deep breath. “They all claim to have seen Saka horsemen roaming the hills that border my kingdom.”
    Baanahasta’s words were greeted with a shocked silence that seemed to last forever. It was finally broken by a short, stocky man with a thick salt-and-pepper beard. This was Bhoomipala, the king of Kosala.
    â€œHave your border patrols reported any of these sightings?” Bhoomipala asked in his high, nasal voice.
    â€œI’m afraid not,” Baanahasta coughed apologetically. “Like I said, these reports aren’t official. It appears the Saka horsemen aren’t present in large numbers. That’s probably why my patrols haven’t seen them.”
    â€œSince when have the Saka horsemen been observed in your territory, your honor?” the Acharya butted in, fixing a piercing gaze on Matsya’s ruler.
    â€œThe reports started coming in about two weeks ago. So the sightings could have happened... who knows... a month ago, maybe more,” Baanahasta shrugged.
    â€œDo we know if the horsemen have ever attacked or even threatened any of your subjects?” It was Vikramaditya’s turn to put a question.
    â€œSome reports say they ransacked a farm or two, but it appears to have been solely for the purpose of obtaining food,” replied Baanahasta. “Provisions and livestock were stolen, but no one was threatened or came to any bodily harm.”
    â€œThen perhaps they’re there only to reconnoitre the locality,” Chandravardhan grunted. “Or they could be a small group that has broken away from the larger Saka tribe... Outcasts, if you know what I mean. Now they don’t know where to go, so they’ve been reduced to scavenging the hills... It’s possible.”
    The council chamber acquired a meditative quality as everyone tried to grapple with the import of the revelation. It was cut short, however, when a husky voice drawled insolently from lower down the table.
    â€œIs the samrat of Sindhuvarta going to take the reports of Matsya’s lowly shepherds, farmers and brigands seriously?”
    All heads turned to survey the man who had just spoken. In his early thirties, he was tall and broad-shouldered, his handsome face wearing a stylish beard and moustache that fenced his thin lips, which had a perpetual smirk at one corner. He had light green eyes, which were regarding Vikramaditya with poorly concealed arrogance.
    The samrat