'Mother, what does that mean?' Melcorka asked.
'You must work it out,' Bearnas said. 'I cannot tell you more. Except that you are fighting a familiar evil that has taken a new form. That is all.'
'Mother…' Melcorka could only watch as Bearnas transformed into the oystercatcher. The bird's final whistle pierced the velvet Oriental night and then it faded away. Melcorka felt more alone than she had in years.
Oh, dear God. What will I do if Bradan is dead? The sadness of isolation descended like a cloak and Melcorka fell to her knees. She touched the hilt of Defender.
I will find him, Melcorka told herself. I will fight, and when the sun sets in the east, I will destroy this ancient evil. Melcorka pushed herself upright and faced the wind.
'I am Melcorka the Swordswoman! I am Melcorka of Alba and who dare meddle with me!'
'I'll dare, if you don't keep your blasted mouth shut!' Jasweer's hiss cut through the dark. 'We're all trying to be as silent as possible to give you a fighting chance, and here you are, yelling and shouting like an idiot!' Jasweer strode up to Melcorka and prodded her with a hard finger. 'Bloody pale-faced foreigners! Keep your teeth together, can't you?'
'Sorry, Captain,' Melcorka said.
'So you should be, jeopardising my crew like that.' Jasweer glowered at her for a moment. 'We're approaching Kalipuram now, so get yourself ready to do whatever it is you want to do before the Thiruzhas kill you.'
'Thank you for your confidence,' Melcorka said.
'I told you to keep quiet,' Jasweer hissed, 'or I'll have you gagged with a tarry rope!'
The island of Kalipuram loomed ahead, with the fort a smudge against the starlit night and a silver smear of surf marking the edge of the sea. Jasweer ordered 'up-oars' as a guard boat rowed noisily past, and then she guided the loola to an outlying shelf of rock.
'Here's where we part company.' Jasweer kept her voice low. 'May Shiva go with you, damn your pale skin.'
'Thank you, Jasweer.' Melcorka salaamed. 'Take care on your voyage back. Come on, Kosala.' Taking her coil of rope, Melcorka stepped from the loola onto the rocky shelf. She felt the sinking depression of evil as soon as her feet touched land. Somewhere in this terrible kingdom, Dhraji held Bradan or had already killed him. Melcorka took a deep breath, watched as a colourful snake slithered past, and contemplated the cliff beneath the fort.
Climbing to gain birds-eggs for food was the way of life on the island she had called home. Now, she had to use these childhood skills to enter this fort.
'Stay here and keep quiet,' Melcorka said. 'When I reach the top, I'll drop the rope down to you.'
Kosala was sensible enough to recognise Melcorka was the better climber. Nodding, he snuggled into a cleft in the rock, where the shadow would hide him from prying eyes from above or from the guard boat out to sea.
The cliff was smooth, with only minuscule cracks for handholds or footholds. Melcorka hoisted herself up a few feet, testing each hold, took a deep breath and began the ascent. Trusting to the instinct gleaned from a thousand climbs in the past, she hauled herself up, foot by foot, hoping the defenders were over-confident within their defences. She cursed when a fickle wind blew clouds from the moon, easing light across the face of the cliff and casting her elongated shadow onto the rocks below.
'Hi!' The call came from above. 'I see you!'
Melcorka froze against the cliff. She moved her eyes a fraction, trying to see if the moonlight emphasised her shape against the cliff face. The shadow of Defender seemed to mock her ascent as it wavered against a patch of vegetation. Melcorka took a deep breath, remaining still as a stone rattled down to bounce from the rocks far below. There was a murmur of voices above her, a high-pitched laugh and the soldier moved on.
'That got you worried,' the same voice said, laughing.
Melcorka breathed out, guessing that the soldier had been teasing his colleagues. She inched upwards again, handhold after handhold, until she came to a fingernail-wide ledge. She rested, looking over her shoulder. Moonlight glossed the sea, showing the masts of the Chola fleet on the horizon and the vast expanse of water beyond. How foolish was Man to try and impose his will and culture on the world, when nature provided sufficient for everybody, if only they learned to share.
Is that Bradan's influence again, forcing me to think beyond the immediate?
There were no more scares as Melcorka reached the base of the fort's defensive wall. Tying the rope around a stone that projected from the nearest buttress, she dropped it into the dark depths below. There were a few seconds of doubt before she felt the slight jerk as Kosala grabbed hold. Now, she had to wait for the Sinhalese to negotiate the cliff, with the Thiruzha defenders only thirty feet above her head and the night slowly passing.
A flight of birds fluttered from a cranny in the cliff, momentarily causing Melcorka to reach for Defender, and then silence returned, broken only by the occasional scrabble from Kosala as he fought his way upward. A sentry passed above, his tread slow and measured.
Kosala dragged himself up the final few feet to Melcorka, his grin evident even in the dark. Melcorka coiled the rope up hand over hand as she balanced on the ledge. She did not speak, for she knew that voices carry far in the night and she did not know how close the guards might be.
Tapping Kosala on the shoulder, Melcorka searched for holds in the wall of the fort. The builders had been immensely skilled, putting the blocks together with hardly a seam between them, so even she had difficulty finding any purchase. Pushing her fingertips into a near-invisible crack, Melcorka hauled herself up, scrambled to find
