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wounds too serious to let them fight again. The monkey tribesmen butchered all those who fell. I believe they took some away to eat them. We also lost six elephants, hamstrung and crippled, and a dozen chariots and horse teams.”
    â€œAgainst how many of the enemy?”
    â€œSardar’s losses must be at least half as much again. The rain of arrows from our walls took a heavy toll on his foot soldiers. But he has twice as many to lose.”
    There was a pause while they digested the numbers, and only Rajar was not listening. His hand caressed the polished ivory that formed the arm of Kara-Rashna’s throne. Jahan watched him from the corner of his eye and waited for the young prince to become bold enough to speak.
    â€œKarakhor needs a king,” Rajar said at last. “The elephant throne should not stand empty.”
    The words echoed in silence as all eyes turned to fix upon the young prince.
    â€œWith Kananda gone, I am Kara-Rashna’s First Son. I am the rightful heir to Karakhor. I should sit upon the elephant throne.” He had claimed his right to rule as forcefully as he dared, but he still lacked the courage to actually take the coveted seat.
    His elders seemed uncertain or unready to answer him, but then Ramesh thrust himself quickly forward. “With Kananda gone, I am the First Son of the First Marriage. If there is a right here it, is my right. Kananda is our rightful ruler now and I will hold the throne until my brother returns.”
    â€œKananda will never return. He has vanished into the stars. Karakhor needs a king now. With Maghalla at the gates, the people must know that they have a king to lead them.”
    â€œThen I shall be the king that Karakhor needs. I am now the First Prince of the First Royal Bloodline.”
    â€œYou are a boy and our dire situation demands a man,” Rajar snarled. “This is not a time for playing games.”
    Ramesh grew hot and red in the face and his hand dropped to his sword. Rajar flushed the same angry colour and he too reached for his blade.
    Kaseem stepped between them, clapping his hands angrily together. “You forget your father’s mandate,” he told them sharply. “Warmaster Jahan and I will act together as Regents for the throne until the Prince Kananda returns—or at least until this war is ended. That was the will of Kara-Rashna.”
    â€œKara-Rashna is dead,” Rajar snarled. “His will holds no longer. And Kananda is probably dead also. You cannot hold the throne for dead men.”
    Ramesh would have charged at him, but two firm hands held him back. Gujar clasped his left hand in a hard vice on the right shoulder of the young prince while Kasim’s right hand clamped down on his left.
    Sanjay, always the practical diplomat, moved smoothly between his belligerent nephews. “While we fight Maghalla, Karakhor needs her most experienced soldier as head of state. That man is the Lord Jahan, and therefore I support our dead brother’s last mandate. The question of succession can wait.”
    Devan nodded, “Jahan has always served Karakhor to the best of his ability. He has the skill and knowledge to lead us to victory. I too will honour our brother’s mandate.”
    Rajar was furious, but looking round for support, he found none. His uncles were against him. The House Lords were uncomfortable but neutral, and even Nirad, his own brother, looked uncertain.
    Jahan had waited, shrewd enough to let Kaseem and the senior princes endorse Kara-Rashna’s last decision before making his stand. He bowed his head briefly, with due respect, and chose his words with care when at last he spoke. “I accept the command of Kara-Rashna and the noble princes. With due regard for the advice of our High Priest, I will lead our army in the defence of Karakhor. Until the First Prince Kananda returns or until Maghalla is defeated.”
    Rajar glared savagely at the old Warmaster, but he