'Who is this warrior?' Bradan asked.
'The legend says that he will be the greatest warrior there has ever been.' Chaturi said. 'That is all that I know.'
Bradan nodded. 'I hope he comes soon. Dhraji is a source of great evil.'
'No.' Chaturi's expression altered. 'The rakshasa we call Dhraji is not a source of great evil. It is the living personification of evil!' When she looked up, Bradan saw the dark shadows of fear in her eyes.
Chapter Ten
With Bradan and a smiling diver carrying the swinging litter that held Melcorka, the Singhalese left their hill-top camp for the Ghats. They travelled warily, alert for Thiruzha warriors as they jogged along a succession of narrow forest tracks, avoiding villages in case spies reported them to Dhraji. Twice, they passed crossroads decorated with the twisted bodies of men and women, executed in various hideous ways.
'Dhraji's work,' Chaturi said. 'These people are better off dead than under her power.'
Ignoring the colourful snakes and hordes of biting and crawling insects, the Singhalese made good progress. After two days, Kosala lifted a hand and signalled them to stop. He pointed ahead, unsmiling but evidently pleased.
'There,' Chaturi said. 'We are on the foothills of the Western Ghats.'
Close to, the mountains were even more impressive. Higher than any hills Bradan knew in Alba, they were also lusher, covered in dense vegetation that would provide a formidable barrier to any army.
'There is only one pass into Thiruzha that is suitable for an army,' Chaturi said. 'Even so, the troops would have to squeeze between two steep peaks, neither of which has ever been climbed, and which are only a stone's throw apart. A fort sits on top of a spur of each mountain, with a slender bridge connecting them. Each fort has a large garrison, and the whole defensive complex has the name Rajgana.'
'So if the Cholas take the forts, this Rajgana, they can enter Thiruzha,' Bradan said.
'Neither of the forts has ever been captured,' Chaturi said. 'You will see why in an hour. An attacker needs to capture both, for any one of them could make passage into Thiruzha impossible.'
They rested in a clearing partway up a steep ridge, with the Ghat range reaching as far as they could see, until it faded into the northern distance. Behind them, the forest tops spread to the distant blue haze of the sea.
'How large is this Bharata Khanda?' Bradan asked.
Chaturi shrugged. 'As far as one can travel and even then you will still not reach the end. To the far north, there is the sacred river Ganges and beyond that is the great Himalaya mountain range, that makes our little Ghats appear like pimples on a teenage girl's bottom.' Chaturi smiled. 'There is a mysterious kingdom in the Himalayas, and the lands of the Chin lie to the east of that. To the northwest are wild, terrible mountains and beyond that are vast steppes that extend to the birth of the wind.'
'Once Melcorka is herself again, we may visit these places.' Bradan said. 'Show me these fortresses of Rajgana.'
'Follow,' Chaturi said and strode on with a speed that belied her years. 'It's not far.' The others trailed in her wake.
Chaturi led them to a steep, wooded slope with extensive views to the east. 'This is as good a place as any. Any further and we might meet Thiruzha patrols.'
'We are sufficiently close,' Bradan said. 'That is indeed an impressive fortress.'
The pass rose steeply from the forested plains on the eastern side of the Ghat Mountains and threaded through a defile so narrow that only a single wagon, two packhorses or four men abreast could advance together. At some time in the distant past, an engineer had carved this path from the living rock. Later, or perhaps at the same time, an architect with a genius for the dramatic had designed the twin forts of Rajgana.
Bradan looked upward, following the sheer cliff on either side of the pass. In places, trees, creepers and other vegetation clung to cracks in the cliff; elsewhere, the rock seemed smooth as ice. Three hundred feet above the pass, the walls of the fortress looked like a vertical extension of the cliff. They were sheer, tall and impossible to scale, with a series of overhangs provided with a hundred dark holes through which objects could be dropped on anybody negotiating the pass.
An arched bridge connected the two halves of Rajgana Fort. Stone-built and perhaps sufficiently broad to hold two men walking side by side, the bridge was again pierced with holes and arrow slits, so that the defenders could drop unpleasant objects onto any force passing beneath. No army could force the pass without suffering horrendous casualties.
'Whoever controls Rajgana controls the pass,' Chaturi said.
'What is that?' Bradan pointed to an iron cage that slowly swung thirty feet beneath the bridge, at least three hundred feet above the pass. Even from this distance, Bradan could see somebody sitting within the cage.
'That is the prison where Dhraji holds Machaendranathar,' Chaturi said. 'As you see, the Siddhar has no shelter, no floor except iron bars and no way out.'
Bradan whistled. 'I see why nobody can free him.'
'Why is that man in a cage?' Melcorka waved her hand.
'He is a prisoner there,' Bradan told her.
'Why is he a prisoner there?' Melcorka waved again. 'He doesn't like it there. He wants to be free.'
'A bad woman put him there,' Bradan said.
'Can't somebody let him go?' Melcorka frowned. 'He's miserable. I can feel his sadness.'
'We're going to try and let him go,' Bradan said.
'Good.' Melcorka nodded. 'He's a good man.'
'You are right, Melcorka,' Chaturi said. 'He is a very good man.'
Bradan sighed, desperately wishing that Melcorka was herself again. 'How strong is the garrison of the fort?'
Kosala answered. 'We estimate that they have about two hundred and fifty men on each individual fort.' He held up a hand. 'Listen!'
The sound was clear; the regular tramp of marching feet accompanied by the heavier
