'I can walk,' Melcorka said.
Kosala placed himself two paces behind Bradan, growling threats every time Bradan slowed to support Melcorka over a rougher-than-normal section of ground. They walked steadily, covering the ground at a trot and barely making a sound as they threaded through the trees. Twice they stopped, while Kosala checked the track behind them as they continued deeper into the forest, gradually moving onto rising ground. Insects plagued them, while birds competed with monkeys to chatter and scream in the trees all around.
Bradan had lost count of the time when they eventually halted. They had travelled through the day and night and well into the next day, so the sun was halfway to its zenith. He was flagging through hunger and thirst, his muscles ached from supporting Melcorka, yet he knew that every step took them further from Kollchi and its memories. As Melcorka fell for the twentieth time and Kosala gave a warning snarl, Bradan lifted her bodily and draped her across his back.
'If she falls again,' Kosala said, 'I will slit her throat.'
'If you even touch her,' Bradan glared at him, 'I will kill you.'
'Up there.' Banduka pushed them apart and pointed to a steep, forest-covered hill.
Bradan nodded. All he could see was a tangle of trees and undergrowth. 'Is there a path?'
'Blindfold him,' Kosala said, and within seconds, somebody had slipped a cloth over Bradan's eyes. 'Now, walk!'
Stumbling in the sudden dark, Bradan felt somebody grab his arm and half pull, half guide him onto what was evidently a narrow and very steep track. He followed, with Melcorka staggering at his side.
'I could kill them now,' Kosala said.
'No. They are friends,' Banduka reminded him.
Bradan swore as he slipped and nearly fell. He struggled up an ever-steepening slope that seemed to last for hours and then eventually, with his heart hammering, his leg muscles on fire and his breath coming in short gasps, his guide stopped him.
'Here we are.' Banduka sounded cheerful.
Bradan blinked in the sudden light as his blindfold was removed.
He stood in the centre of a small village, with the houses built of mud and wood, roofed with palm leaves. A circle of dark-skinned, lithe, wary-looking people stared at him, with the men carrying short bows or swords and the women wearing colourful saris.
'Where am I?' Bradan blinked in the sunlight. A myriad flies buzzed around his head, while monkeys screeched from the bough of a tree.
'In a village.' Kosala fingered his sword. 'Chaturi will examine you.'
'Who is Chaturi?' Bradan looked around.
'I am.' The woman sat cross-legged on a small, three-legged stool in front of one of the huts. 'I hear they call you Bradan the Wanderer and you were the lover of the rakshasa Dhraji.'
'That's correct,' Bradan said.
'And your woman is Melcorka of Alba.'
'That is also correct,' Bradan nodded. 'Melcorka is not well inside her head just now.'
'I will speak to you first,' Chaturi said. 'Leave the woman here.'
'She needs water and food.' Bradan did not leave Melcorka's side. 'And she needs shade from the sun.'
Chaturi gave a small smile. 'Banduka will ensure she is comfortable. I give you my word that nobody will harm her unless I think you are a spy for the rakshasa.'
'Melcorka cannot be a spy.' Bradan jerked a thumb toward her. 'She's not at all well. She hardly knows her own name.'
Chaturi glanced at Melcorka and gestured to the hut behind her. 'Come in, Bradan the Wanderer.'
The interior of the hut was simple, with an earth floor and minimal furniture. Chaturi sat on a stool and handed another to Bradan. 'Sit opposite me. How did you get that scar on your head?'
'That was a war club in another country far away.' Bradan touched the scar as the memories slid back.
Chaturi nodded. 'How did you get to this country?'
'We have a small boat. There was an underwater explosion that caused a storm. The storm drove us off-course. We did not know where we were. We sailed north and ended up here.'
Chaturi asked questions and listened to the answers as Bradan gradually revealed details of the adventures he and Melcorka had endured.
'Tell me about Dhraji,' Chaturi asked. 'Tell me all you know about her.'
'She is the rani of the country, a powerful woman, cruel and cunning and very dangerous.' Bradan became aware that Chaturi's gaze seemed to bore right inside his head. 'Killing intrigues her. She finds it stimulating. Your friend Banduka told me that the Dhraji I knew was a demon, a rakshasa, in disguise.'
'You lasted longer than any of her previous lovers,' Chaturi said. 'People think you are the same as her.'
'I do not understand what you mean,' Bradan said. 'I am no rakshasa, and I do not kill for fun.'
'Look at me.' Chaturi put her finger under Bradan's chin and lifted his face. 'Let me inside your mind.'
About to protest, Bradan realised he was already too late. He could feel Chaturi's presence within his mind, probing his thoughts, exploring his memories of Dhraji, testing his motives and actions. He felt the sweat breaking out on his forehead as Chaturi investigated his most intimate memories. The sudden jerk as she left surprised him.
'You are very loyal to her,' Chaturi said.
'I was trying to keep alive, and keep Melcorka alive.' Bradan defended his actions. 'If I had allowed anybody to kill Dhraji, my life and Melcorka's would have been very short.'
'You misunderstand me.' Chaturi gave a small smile. 'I did not mean you were loyal to the false Dhraji. I meant you are very loyal to Melcorka.'
'We've been together for a long time,' Bradan said.
'It is more than that.' Chaturi's smile broadened. 'Come with me.'
The entire population of the village was waiting outside, with the men fingering their weapons and the women looking anxious.
'This man is no spy,' Chaturi said quietly. 'We can trust him.'
'Thank you.' Bradan breathed out slowly. He saw something like regret cross Kosala's face.
Chaturi nodded to
