'You've been in the palace for some time, haven't you?' Bradan asked.
'Yes.' The guard was not inclined to talk. Her scar writhed around her lips with every short phrase.
'You are fortunate, working for the Rani.' If the guard reported the conversation to the Rani, she might as well have something ingratiating to say.
'We all are, even you, her slave.' The guard regarded Bradan much as she would look at something unpleasant in which she had trodden. 'You've already lasted longer than most.' Her smile taunted him. 'I hope you don't expect to live much longer.'
'I'll live until it's my time to die,' Bradan said. 'Does the Rani often go wandering in the night? I can't remember her ever doing it before.'
'When she wishes to.' The guard scanned Bradan up and down and gave a scornful smile. 'She leaves her chamber when she tires of her current slave.'
'I'll go and look for her,' Bradan said. 'I don't like the thought of her wandering around alone in the dark.'
'You're a naïve sort of fool, aren't you?' The guard stepped aside. 'My job is to keep people from attacking the Rani, not to prevent lunatic slaves from getting killed.'
When he stepped away from Dhraji's chamber, Bradan felt as if shackles had been removed from his limbs. He took a deep breath and hurried down the carpeted corridor, found a flight of stairs and moved downwards as fast as he could. Melcorka – I'm coming to see you. Trying to remember the route from his previous visit, Bradan took a few wrong turnings, ended up in the kitchen where cooks were toiling in unbelievable heat and continued downward.
That black-and-white haze was back, forming in front of him as if trying to pass on a message.
'What are you?' Bradan asked. 'I know you're not unfriendly. Who are you? Are you trying to help?'
For a moment, the haze nearly formed into something tangible. Bradan saw a flash of orange amidst the black-and-white, before the shape faded away and he stood in a bleak chamber of bare stone walls.
'Hey! You!' Bradan accosted a passing servant. 'I have a message from the Rani. Which way are the dungeons?'
The servant goggled at Bradan. 'You're Dhraji's foreign slave. You shouldn't be here.' He started in sudden alarm and salaamed. 'Is the Rani with you?'
'I know what I am and no, she's not,' Bradan said. 'Which way are the dungeons?'
The servant indicated a plain wooden doorway. 'Through there and follow the steps.' Bradan could feel the servant watching as he opened the door. 'Get used to the dungeons,' the servant called out. 'The Rani's last two bed-slaves are still there, waiting for you!'
The atmosphere chilled immediately Bradan began the descent. Small torches spread faint light, sufficient to see the stairs and no more. Bradan followed the stairs, walking slowly and carefully on steps that were slippery with slime. He came to an arched wooden door, turned an iron handle and pushed; the door led to yet more stairs, descending down and down into a dark mist. Lifting the nearest torch, Bradan coughed and stepped on, cautiously, slowly, hearing his sandals rustling on damp straw.
'Who in Shiva's name are you?' The voice boomed from the surrounding dark as a bulky figure emerged from a semi-hidden door.
'Bradan the Wanderer.' Bradan lifted the torch so the jailer could see his face. 'Come to see the foreign woman.'
'Are you still alive?' The jailer sounded genuinely surprised. 'You've lasted a long time. I thought the Rani would have made you kiss the elephant's feet days ago.'
'I'm still alive,' Bradan said. 'Take me to the foreign woman.'
'You're too late,' the jailer said.
'Too late? What do you mean, too late?'
'She's dead.' The jailer spoke without emotion.
Chapter Nine
'Dead? Bradan stared at the jailer in disbelief. 'When? How?' He grabbed the wall for support as all the strength drained from his legs. Melcorka can't be dead. She's too vital, too alive.
The jailer grinned. 'In about two minutes' time. Do you want to watch?'
'You said she is dead,' Bradan said.
'In all but name.' The jailer nodded. 'Bhim sent the order just a few moments ago. “Kill the useless,” Bhim said, “to make room for officer prisoners of war from the Chola Empire.” '
Bradan tried a deep breath but the foul air caught in his throat, so he gagged and nearly threw up. He thought quickly. 'You just want the space, then?'
The jailer shrugged. 'Yes.'
'I'll take her away,' Bradan said. 'Give her to me.'
'The Raja gave an order. If I let her go, I'll be given to the elephants, or be food for the leopard, or go swimming with…'
'Go swimming with what?' Bradan asked. 'With that great monster that everybody denies seeing?'
The jailer looked away. 'I'm going to kill the foreign woman.'
Bradan pressed again. 'What is that great monster?'
'Don't be naïve. Now, get out of my way and let me do my job.' The jailer stepped back through the door and returned holding a heavy club. The length of a man's arm, it was studded with iron knobs and must have weighed fourteen pounds.
'Make it quick,' Bradan said. 'Please.'
The jailer sighed. 'I'll make it quick.' He hefted the club. 'I'll use this heavy one.'
'I want to make sure it is quick,' Bradan said.
'You can watch.' The jailer was magnanimous. 'Your own death won't be so quick when Dhraji gets rid of you. It never has been for her ex-lovers.' Unlocking the door to Melcorka's dungeon, he pushed in, with Bradan at his back.
Melcorka lay as Bradan had last seen her, filthy, stinking and vacant-eyed, chained to the far wall. She looked up when the jailer and Bradan entered.
'Hello, Mel.' Bradan spoke in the Tamil language so that the jailer could understand him. 'I've come to say goodbye.'
'One minute only.' The jailer lifted his club. 'I haven't got all day to waste on one blasted prisoner.'
Kneeling at Melcorka's side, Bradan held up the torch. Melcorka smiled up at
