'I need one volunteer warrior,' Melcorka said.
Although Kulothunga looked up, Kosala spoke first.
'That's me,' Kosala said.
'He's Singhalese,' a hard-eyed marine said. 'I'll find you an experienced Tamil you can trust, or you can take Kulothunga.'
'I'll trust Kosala,' Melcorka said. 'I'll trust him to follow my instructions. Kulothunga is too much his own man. Kulothunga would be a rival, doing what he thought best rather than carrying out my plan.' She grinned at the warrior. 'In an open battle, there is nobody I would rather have at my side than Kulothunga. In the expedition I have in mind, I would like Bradan or Kosala.'
Rajaraja had listened intently. Now, he nodded. 'I understand. What do you need?'
Melcorka thought for only a moment. 'I want a long, knotted rope with a grapnel hook at one end, and I want to borrow Jasweer's Sharks for an hour.'
'Why?' Again, Rajaraja raised a hand to stop the babble of sound. 'Silence!'
'I need a loola to take Kosala and me closer to the island,' Melcorka said, 'then we'll swim the final few hundred yards. Jasweer is one of the best mariners I have ever met.'
'Send for Jasweer.' Rajaraja lifted a finger.
Kulothunga leaned against the bulkhead, saying nothing as he stroked the hilt of his sword. When his gaze strayed to Kosala, his eyes were like acid.
* * *
Jasweer was experienced in clandestine operations. First, she unshipped her mast to alter the profile of her loola. 'All you Sharks,' she ordered, 'wear dark clothing. Muffle the oars. Blacken everything metallic. I don't want the gleam of moonshine on steel to give us away.'
The Sharks obeyed with a will, trusting their captain.
'Don't whisper, when we're out there,' Jasweer said. 'Whispering can be a strain. If you must speak, use a low tone. Row gently. If anybody catches a crab, I will personally keelhaul him.'
'Drop us off a hundred yards offshore,' Melcorka said.
'There will be no swimming, Melcorka,' Jasweer said quietly. 'We'll take you right up to the base of the island in this foolish adventure.'
'Thank you,' Melcorka said.
'Don't thank me,' Jasweer said. 'I don't like you. To me, you are a foreign mercenary involving yourself in a war that's none of your damned business.'
'I don't like you, either.' Melcorka adjusted Defender more comfortably across her back. 'To me, you are a big-headed, bad-tempered sea-pirate.'
The two women considered each other in a mutual respect neither would acknowledge.
'So why are you doing this?' Jasweer asked.
'I want to win this war that's none of my damned business.' Melcorka said. 'Not that I give a rat's tail for the glories of your empire, but because our mutual enemy Dhraji has got my man and I want him back.'
'Bradan?' Jasweer grunted. 'He'll be dead by now.'
'That is possible,' Melcorka said. She knew that Defender would not fight for revenge. If Bradan was dead, she could not avenge him; however, she was fighting for the cause of right over wrong, good over evil – or so she hoped.
Was the cause of any expanding empire ever good? Was it ever right for one state or nation or culture to spread their ideas and political domination over other, weaker neighbours?
Melcorka shook her head. She could discuss such philosophies with Bradan. It was to determine such ideas that he walked the dusty roads of the world to seek out learned men and women. She was Melcorka the Swordswoman. She followed the way of the sword, not the insight of the mind.
Is that all I am? A wandering killer?
The black-and-white bird perched on the gunwale of the loola, its long red beak pointing toward her and its eyes far too intelligent for any bird.
'You are thinking deep thoughts, Melcorka.'
'Mother!' Melcorka hissed. 'Not now! I am busy.'
The oystercatcher metamorphosed into Bearnas, Melcorka's mother. 'I know how busy you are, Melcorka.' She smiled at her daughter. 'It's all right, nobody can see or hear me. These good people will think you are praying, which you are, in a way. After all, I am dead.'
'Is Bradan alive, Mother?'
'You know I can't tell you such things, Melcorka. You must forge your own destiny. It is the life you chose when you picked up Defender.' Bearnas extended her hand and ran it through Melcorka's black hair. 'I hear you are growing up now, my daughter.'
'You hear?' Melcorka was puzzled.
'I listen to your thoughts, about life and the meaning of it, and about other things, too.' Bearnas laughed when Melcorka gasped. 'Yes, even these ones! Bradan is an interesting man, isn't he?' Bearnas' eyes drifted to Kosala. 'Oh, I see! That Singhalese does have a fine body. He has similar thoughts for you, my daughter.'
'That is Kosala. He wants to defeat the Thiruzha.'
'He wants more than that, Melcorka,' Bearnas said. 'You seem to be attracting men now. You could have Kosala or Kulothunga, yet still you retain Bradan.'
'Bradan is my man,' Melcorka said. 'Kulothunga loves himself more than any woman. He only wishes a woman to worship him, not as an equal. Kosala, I do not understand.'
'You are still naïve in some ways, Melcorka,' Bearnas said. 'Life has lessons for you yet.' Her tone altered. 'Be careful of Kulothunga; he is not all he appears. I cannot say more than that.'
Melcorka dismissed that delicate subject. 'Mother, can I defeat this rakshasa? Will I defeat this rakshasa?'
'I can tell you that you can,' Bearnas said. 'I cannot tell you if you will. You are the mistress of your own destiny. Your life and victory depend on your actions, not on my words. I can only advise.'
'Give me your advice, Mother, please!' Melcorka was a small girl again, standing on the shores of her Hebridean island with the salt air of the Western Ocean tangling her hair.
'Do what seems right, Melcorka,' Bearnas said. 'As you always do.' Her eyes hardened. 'Remember what the Siddhars told Bradan. Use the steel from the west washed in the water from
