A Thiruzha warrior ran down toward them, buckling on a sword belt and trying to adjust the round shield he carried on his back. He stopped when he realised that Kosala blocked his passage.
'Who are you?'
In reply, Kosala slid his sword in the man's belly and sliced upwards. The man died without a sound, falling onto the steps.
'That's one less.' Kosala cleaned his sword on the dead man's turban.
They moved on, silent in the dark, upwards and ever upwards. Twice, they stopped when they heard movement above, and each time Bradan held his breath. He was a man of the open spaces, not a thief to work in such confinement. Then he thought of Melcorka, lying with a vacant smile on her face and the mind of a child. I must press on. I must do my best.
After an eternity of climbing, the stairs ended at a heavy wooden door, studded with iron. Kosala placed a hand on Bradan's shoulder to stop him, pushed the door gently and eased in.
'Who's that?' Bradan heard the question, followed by a strangled gasp.
'Only one guard,' Kosala reported, wiping the blood from his sword.
'I'm glad you're here,' Bradan said.
'Follow me.'
They entered what was evidently a guard room, an austere stone chamber with nearly empty weapons-racks on the wall. Lifting a long, slightly curved knife, Bradan thrust it through his waistband. He did not wish to use it but knew that if he needed a weapon, he would need it desperately. Again, he steeled himself with the image of Melcorka lying helpless as a baby.
Kosala opened the door in the opposite wall, and they stepped into another long room. Faint light seeped through eastward-facing arrow slits, revealing that dawn was already greying the eastern sky. Within half an hour, full daylight would make their position in the fort even more precarious.
'Hurry,' Kosala said.
They hurried, with Kosala disposing of another Thiruzha soldier on the way.
'Bhim has emptied the fortress of everybody except the sick and the menials,' Kosala said. 'None of the men we've met have been top quality warriors. Bhim must be supremely confident of victory.'
Bradan peered out of an arrow-slit as the rapidly rising sun glossed the sky brilliant red. 'I think he is right to be confident. I can't see a single living Chola soldier.'
Dead bodies covered the pass to the east. Men and horses lay singly or in small mounds, with grey heaps showing where the Chola elephants had also died. There was no sign of either army.
'We have to find that bridge,' Bradan said. 'We must release Machaendranathar.'
'Hey!' The voice was strong and authoritarian. 'Who are you? Why are you not fighting the Chola?'
The man was tall, broad and carried a long, wavy-bladed sword in a manner that suggested he knew how to use it.
Thinking quickly, Bradan faked a cough, hoping to be taken for a sick man.
'That won't fool me,' the tall man said. 'You were talking normally a minute ago, the two of you. Come here!'
'No,' Kosala said. 'You come here.'
'What?' The tall man stared at him from under a pointed steel helmet. 'Do you know who I am?'
'No,' Kosala said. 'But I know what you are. You're a fat, bullying pig. You're a ranting coward that sends others out to fight, while you strut around waggling your fat arse and trying to look important, you useless lump of stinking lard.'
The man strode forward. 'I'll have you flogged!' he roared. 'By Shiva, I'll have you thrown over the cliff, flayed alive and hanged by the heels.'
'Well, which will it be? Make your mind up before you give birth, you waddling barrel of fat.' Kosala leaned against the wall. 'Which death is it to be?'
'Give me your name!' The broad man increased his speed.
'I am Kosala.'
'I am Bradan from Alba.' Bradan slipped a foot between the angry man's heels, making him stagger.
Kosala stepped aside, grabbed the man's head and cracked it hard against the wall. 'These Thiruzha are so overconfident, they are easy to fool.'
Bradan nodded. 'Dhraji was the same,' he said. 'She believed all my flattery. Vanity seems to be their downfall.'
'Now…' Kosala relieved the guard of his sword, 'let's find out where the bridge is.' He pricked the man on the side of the neck. 'A minute ago you threatened me. Now, I am the man with the power. Tell me how to cross to the fort on the other side of the pass or I will cut you up very slowly.' He twisted the blade until it was just under the surface of the skin and slid it downward, avoiding any vital spots. 'This could take all day.'
'Why do you want to go there?' Sweat slithered down the guard's face.
'Dhraji ordered us to,' Bradan said.
'You don't know Dhraji,' the guard blustered.
'I do indeed,' Bradan said. 'From the top of her head to that interesting little mark she has on her left buttock. You must know the one? It's shaped like a fish.'
'Of course I know it. You go through that way.' The guard's eyes swivelled left. 'And it's the second door.'
'Thank you,' Kosala said.
'Why did you not just ask?' Blood flowed from the guard's neck.
'This way is more interesting,' Kosala said and thrust in his blade. The guard died with hardly a sound. 'Bradan, does Dhraji really have a mark like a fish on her arse?'
'No.' Bradan shook his head. 'I was playing on the vanity of these people, as we said.'
'It worked,' Kosala said. 'Through here.' He searched the guard and swore softly. 'I hoped he might have the key to Machaendranathar's cage with him.'
The passageway led to yet more stairs, narrow, with arrow-slits providing the only illumination. As the large man had said, the second door opened onto the bridge.
Built of stone and with a vaulted roof, the bridge crossed the path in a high arch, with light shafting through from a score of arrow-slits. Cavities in the wall held spears, bows and quivers of arrows,
