Kamma-vipāka: Deeds and their ripening
Action carries a fruit that arrives on its own schedule. Naboth was stoned on false witness and the vineyard changed hands; that seed is already in the ground, and torn clothes do not pull it back out. Rain decides when a buried seed breaks the surface, so the breaking is pushed to a later season, though it is the same seed Ahab planted.
Hiri-ottappa: Shame at wrongdoing and dread of its results
The inward blush at a bad deed, and the fear of where it leads. A king who arranged a killing over a plot of ground now fasts, wears sackcloth, and walks softly, which means the blood has finally grown heavy to him. A thief who cannot sleep the night after the theft still has a working conscience, and here that waking is enough to move the timing of everything that follows.
Nivāta: Humility
The word means unpuffed, the swelling gone out of a mind. The crown stays on Ahab's head while the head itself goes down, and heaven answers that posture before he has repaid anyone a thing. A sail hangs slack the moment the wind drops, and the whole ship changes course from that one slackening.
Anusaya: Latent tendency
Greed and hatred lie asleep under the floor of a mind, out of sight. A week of fasting presses that sleeping greed down; digging it out is another matter, and Ahab is soon enough back at his wars and his wanting. Cut a weed at the soil line and the field looks clean for a fortnight, then the same plant rises from the same root, which is why the house still falls later.
Kammassakatā: Owning one's deeds and inheriting them
Each being holds their actions as property and receives what those actions pay out. An estate comes to a son with its debts attached, and this one arrives with a stolen field in the treasury and a court trained to give false witness. The son takes up those conditions and begins making deeds of his own inside them, so the reckoning lands in his reign and becomes his to answer.