'Stand still.' Dhraji watched, smiling. 'They know what they are doing. You people from the west have never experienced soap before. We have much to teach you.'
'Is Melcorka all right?' Bradan asked.
'That woman is no longer your concern,' Dhraji said. 'From this day onward, you will think only of me.' Although she was smiling, something in Dhraji's tone warned Bradan that she was a very dangerous woman. Stay alive, he told himself. I am no good to Melcorka if I am dead!
'It is hard not to think of you.' Bradan forced a smile.
'Do you find me attractive?' Dhraji emphasised the swing of her hips as she stalked around Bradan.
'You are a wonderful-looking woman.' Bradan spoke only the truth, for, with her long black hair, small, smiling face and shapely figure, Dhraji could be the epitome of all that a man could lust for in a woman.
'Then why do you not look at me, Bradan the Wanderer? I order you to.'
'I did not think it was fitting.' Bradan allowed his gaze to roam the length of her, from foot to head, before resting on her face.
'I desire you to look at me always.' Again, there was steel behind the silk in Dhraji's tones.
'In that case, I shall comply with pleasure.' Bradan smiled.
The two washers finished, salaamed and withdrew, walking backwards. 'Oh, that is much better now.' Dhraji slid her hand across Bradan's body, lingering where she pleased. 'You have underlying strength, Bradan the Wanderer. We will soon see if you also have the stamina to match.'
'How is Melcorka?' Bradan could not resist asking the question, despite the angry shadow that crossed Dhraji's face.
'The tattooed woman is with my husband,' Dhraji said softly. 'And I advise you not to interrupt me again, slave Bradan. I am not a woman it is wise to cross. I own you now, body and soul, and you are mine to do with as I please.' She took hold of him. 'I can make your life full of pleasure,' she squeezed gently, 'or full of more pain than you can imagine.' Dhraji increased the pressure of her fingers, watching his reaction. 'You see?'
Bradan fought to retain his composure. 'I see,' he said.
'You will not speak of that other woman again. You will not think of that other woman again. Your world now revolves around me.' Dhraji smiled. 'Come now, slave Bradan, there are thousands of men who would desire nothing more.'
Stay alive! If you are dead, you can't help Melcorka.
'I can understand that.' Bradan enhanced his words by allowing his gaze to roam from Dhraji's face down the length of her body. 'I know a man who these thousands would envy.'
Releasing him, Dhraji stepped back, still smiling. 'When my cleaning-and-dressing slaves have finished with you, then I shall test you out, Bradan the Wanderer. Tomorrow, I have a treat for you.'
'Your Majesty.' Bradan thought that a show of humility might best suit his cause. He bent in a salaam such as the cleaning-slaves had used. Pretend ignorance. 'May I ask where we are? Is this the Empire of Chola? Are you the Empress of Chola?'
Dhraji's laugh sounded genuine. 'Chola? Oh, that is good, Bradan, that is priceless. No, Bradan, this is not Chola. Every slave we captured on that raid is from Chola, and when the Raja returns with his army, he will bring back even more.' Dhraji's face altered. 'When I have Arul Mozhi Chola here as my slave, I will not have him bathed and treat him tenderly.' She pushed her hands together, intertwining her fingers as if wringing the neck of a chicken. 'He calls himself Raja Raja Cholan, the King of Kings, as if he had a divine right over all his neighbours. Well, by Skanda and Yama, Arul Mozhi Chola, the Emperor of Chola, is not raja over me!'
'I apologise.' Bradan salaamed. 'I did not know. I hope you forgive me, Mistress.' He wondered what else he could say to flatter this volatile woman.
Dhraji smiled. 'You know now, Bradan.' She patted his chest, her eyes busy. 'We are in the city of Kollchi, in the land of Thiruzha.'
'I do not know these places,' Bradan said. 'Are we in the Indies? A storm blew us off course.'
'You are in the south of Bharata Khanda.' Dhraji's hand drifted across Bradan again. 'You may know that better as Hindustan, or even India. Now, get along with the bathing-slaves. I'll send for you later.'
'Yes, my Lady Dhraji.' Bradan bowed and salaamed again.
'You learn quickly for a pale foreigner,' Dhraji said. 'I can see I'm going to have fun with you. I hope you learn other things as quickly.'
'For you, my Lady,' Bradan said, 'I will do my very best.' And when you are asleep, he thought, I will find Melcorka and we'll get out of this poisonous paradise.
Standing in another courtyard within the palace, with a pool of limpid water in front of him and brightly coloured birds calling all around, Bradan stared at his reflection. Scrubbed, with his hair neatly trimmed, sweet scent splashed onto him and dressed in silken blue robes and open-toed sandals, he no longer looked like the wandering man he was.
So here we are, Bradan said, slaves of a demented pirate in southern Bharata Khanda, somewhere east of the Central Sea and west of the New World. Melcorka has lost her sword, and her mind, and I am dressed like a God-knows-what, awaiting the call to service some powerful, crazed woman who hates the Chola Empire, whatever that may be. I can't think of a way out yet, but I will not give up hope. With Melcorka not herself, everything depends on me. Sorry, Mel, I will do what I have to do until I see an opening. I know you would understand.
The reflection stared
