'Good, good,' she said, as the elephant slowly lowered its foot. The man crawled away, so the elephant missed his head and instead crushed his left leg. The victim twisted and screamed, long and shrill.
Dhraji's eyes were bright. She leaned forward, her tongue licking her lips and her hand busy on the leopard's ear. Bradan knew that he had been forgotten; the Rani's entire attention was on the deliberate murder being enacted in front of her.
The elephant lifted the builder with its trunk, swung him, a bleeding, squealing mess, around its head and threw him into the crowd. Drops of blood sprayed the audience, with one landing on Dhraji's arm. She licked it off, still smiling and, for the first time, looked at Bradan. Her eyes glowed with pleasure, and a smear of the victim's blood was on her lips. Her tongue darted out, removed the blood and explored her lips for more.
With the first victim a bloody smear on the ground, the other condemned men ran in panic as the mahout guided the elephant toward them, choosing his next target.
Bradan looked away. He had seen too much bloodshed and suffering in his life to find any interest in more. Instead, he watched the crowd as they roared and cheered and laughed at the antics of the condemned men, and he watched Dhraji as she leaned forward with intense eyes and darting tongue. He had never despised her more, yet knew that her lust would be at its height later. For the first time, he contemplated escaping on his own.
No. I will not leave Melcorka in the hands of this woman… if she is a woman and not some terrible creature from another world.
By the time all ten builders were dead, the square was a mass of blood and brains, crushed bones and slithering entrails. The crowd was in a state of high excitement, with hysterical laughter and cheering, although Bradan was pleased to see that some were looking sick and a few had slid away from the horrific scenes.
There is hope, he thought. Even though these people are inured to horror, a spark of decency remains. That can be built on.
'Take us back to the palace.' Dhraji's voice was husky as she addressed the mahout. 'And quickly.'
'Come, Bradan.' Dhraji took hold of his arm the second they left the howdah. 'I won't be dancing for you just yet. Executions always arouse me.'
The leopard followed, padding in Dhraji's wake with its head held low and its eyes smouldering yellow.
* * *
They sat in the corner of Dhraji's chamber playing chess, as the setting sun coloured the sky a brilliant orange-red and silhouetted the serrated peaks of the Ghats. Small birds darted beyond the window and occasionally invaded the room.
'Do you have this game in your Alba, Bradan?' Dhraji asked.
'We do,' Bradan said. 'We have slightly different pieces there.' He lifted a small ivory chariot. 'In Alba, we have a rook rather than a chariot, and we have a bishop where you have an elephant.'
Dhraji smiled. 'This game was invented in Northern Bharata Khanda.' She lifted the king. 'Here, we call this piece the raja. Where you have the queen, we have the mantra, or minister, a politician. The queen, the mantra, is the most powerful piece while the king, the raja, is merely the symbol of authority.'
'That seems to be the case here, too,' Bradan agreed.
Dhraji laughed openly. 'It may be the case in your Alba as well. What you call chess, we call chaturanga, which means four divisions – cavalry, elephantry, infantry and chariotry.'
'I see.' Bradan surveyed the board.
'I rather like you.' Dhraji surveyed him once more. 'You have intelligence and stamina.'
'It's all that walking and rowing.' Bradan moved an elephant on the board. It would take him a while to get used to the different pieces.
Dhraji continued her lecture. 'Chess spread to Persia and when the armies of Islam invaded Persia, they adopted the game and carried it with them.' She moved her mantra. 'When I take over the Chola Empire, I may march my army north and destroy the Islamics.'
'Yes, my Lady.' Bradan perused the board, wondering if he should allow Dhraji to defeat him, or if she wanted a real challenge.
'I wonder how loyal you are?' Dhraji shot him a sideways look. 'I wonder how far I can trust you?'
'You have always treated me well,' Bradan said. 'You have no reason to distrust me.'
'We'll see,' Dhraji said.
'How large is your realm?' Bradan asked.
'It is not large yet, only a couple of hundred miles north to south,' Dhraji said, 'and from the coast, we extend as far as the Ghats.' She nodded to the now-darkening mountain range.
'And how large is the Chola Empire?'
'Much larger,' Dhraji admitted. 'It is hundreds of miles north to south and it stretches right across to the East coast and even to the island of Ceylon.' She smiled. 'But it is old and creaking. We are young and vibrant. We will raid and weaken the Cholas until their Empire collapses and then,' she clapped her hands, smiling, 'we will move in and take over.'
'And then,' Bradan said, 'you will be Rani of the New Chola Empire, with all their lands and all their power.'
'It will be Bhim's land, not mine. I am only a poor woman. What do I know about affairs of state?'
'Everything there is to know, I wager,' Bradan said, 'and maybe more than has ever been written.'
'You have a silver tongue, Bradan the Wanderer,' Dhraji said, 'but it is not that part of you I wish to exercise.' She stood up. 'Leave this foolish game.'
The sun had long gone as Bradan lay awake in the great bed, with the distant noises of the city faint beyond the palace walls and the fluttering of moths and steady breathing of
