You may not like me mentioning Melcorka again, Dhraji, but I must find out.
When Bhim nodded, folds of fat flapped around his chin. 'I remember.'
'Is she still alive?'
Bhim nodded. 'The pale woman is still alive.'
Bradan felt Dhraji's eyes on him and wondered if the Rani was jealous, or if she was now so secure with her power and undoubted charisma that such emotions were beyond her. I must take the chance. 'She was unwell when we were captured. I would crave permission to see her again.'
Dhraji tilted her head to one side. 'Were you as loyal to this woman as you are to me?'
'I was, and I am,' Bradan said. 'My loyalty does not falter or die, your Majesty.'
'How strange.' Dhraji touched Bradan's arm. 'It is curious that you should remain loyal to somebody else, even after meeting me… even when you know how much I value total submission.'
That was undoubtedly a threat. 'You are easily the most enchanting woman I have ever met.' Bradan chose his words carefully.
'So why keep your loyalty to another?' Dhraji seemed genuinely confused.
'My loyalty is steadfast,' Bradan tried to explain. 'It is a custom, a tradition, where I come from. It cannot be bought or sold or transferred. Once I fix my loyalty on somebody, it remains there.'
'I have never heard of that before,' Dhraji said. 'It is a strange concept.'
'You may visit this pale woman.' Bhim dismissed Bradan with a flick of his hand. 'One of my guards will take you.'
'Thank you, Your Highness.' Although Bradan salaamed to Bhim, he intended the words for both. He had no doubt that Dhraji would exact a price for his request.
* * *
Bradan gagged at the stench. They were far underground in a place of stone chambers and iron chains, where rats and mice scurried over their feet, and sinister jailers loomed from the shadows. Hidden under the arches were dozens of dungeons, some packed with suffering humanity, men, women and children crammed together, others with a solitary inhabitant, heavily chained to the wall.
'Why is Melcorka held down here?' Bradan asked. 'She is no harm to anybody.'
'I would have killed her.' The head jailer was a stocky, lugubrious man with arms as thick as most men's thighs and a cynical twist to his mouth. 'If Lord Bhim had not wanted her alive, I'd have tied her big toe to her thumb and thrown her in the river. Lord Bhim says she may recover from whatever ails her, and if so, her pale skin could amuse him.'
In the chamber furthest from the entrance, amidst piles of filth and a thousand scrabbling insects, Melcorka was chained to the wall. She lay there unmoving, as Bradan entered.
'Mel!' Bradan knelt at her side. 'It's me!'
Melcorka looked up, her eyes still vague and a stupid smile on her face. 'Hello.' Her hair was knotted and filthy and her face bloated with insect bites.
'It's me,' Bradan repeated. 'Do you recognise me?'
'Hello,' Melcorka repeated. 'Do you like my house? They feed me nearly every day.'
Oh, dear God in his Heaven. 'What's happened to you, Mel?' Despite the filth that covered Melcorka, Bradan held her close. 'Mel, where are you?'
'Who's Mel?' Melcorka lay back again, still smiling through the dirt. Her breath was foul, her teeth yellowed and her eyes bloodshot, yet it was her blank mind that hurt Bradan the most. I'll get you out, Mel; I swear I'll get you out of this hellish place.
'Is she always like this?' Bradan asked the jailer, who shrugged.
'Every time I've seen her.'
'I want her moved to better accommodation,' Bradan said. 'I want a clean dungeon at least, with fresh straw and daily food and fresh water.' Bradan knew the jailer would have no power to release Melcorka. 'Can you do that?'
'I could, but why should I?' The jailer sized Bradan up with a single look and shrugged. 'You have no authority over me. You're a slave, while she's just a foreign prisoner. Either she'll die soon, or my Lord Bhim will order her executed.'
'Will Lord Bhim order her to kiss the elephant's foot?' Bradan asked.
'No!' The jailer shook his head as if that idea was amusing. 'She's not important enough for a public execution.' He indicated the heavy club at his belt. 'I'll come in and finish her off.'
Bradan shuddered. The thought of his Melcorka, scourge of the Norse, Melcorka of the Cenel Bearnas, Melcorka the Swordswoman, being bludgeoned to death by a fat jailer in a filthy dungeon was more than he could bear. If Melcorka had to die, it should be in battle, fighting against great odds like the hero she was.
'I want her moved,' Bradan repeated.
The jailer laughed. 'Who are you to want anything? You are a slave, a nothing, and a foreign slave, a less than nothing.' He waddled up to Bradan. 'Do you think your position as Lady Dhraji's current lover impresses me? I've seen them come, boy and I've seen them go – handsome young gallants who danced on Dhraji's bed and thought they were oh-so-important. Don't you ever think of your predecessors?'
Bradan kept a rein on his temper as the jailer continued.
'Some are dead. They either took the long step from the battlements to the ground below –' The jailer extended his arms and yelled, like a man falling to his death, 'or they kissed the elephant's foot. Some were less lucky. I have two here still. Come with me.'
Bradan followed the jailer to a dungeon next to Melcorka's, where a naked man lay curled up on the bare stone floor. As the jailer opened the door, the prisoner howled like a dog and backed to the furthest corner, holding his hands up in supplication.
'You see what I mean?' Then jailer poked the prisoner with his feet. Bradan saw in horror that the prisoner had been mutilated, with his eyes put out and his nose and ears sliced off.
'This fellow was Dhraji's previous lover.' The jailer held his torch up. 'Her Ladyship blinded him in person, and had great pleasure in emasculating him as well.' The jailer laughed. 'I have orders to beat him every third or fourth day. Her Majesty occasionally visits, to enjoy his suffering.'
Bradan stepped back from the dungeon, feeling sick. He had to escape from here and bring Melcorka with him, although he could not think of a way out. 'If you hurt Melcorka,' he said. 'I will kill you. I will hunt you down and kill you.'
The jailer shrugged. 'Aye, maybe,' he said. 'It's much more likely that I'll have you down here in a few weeks, or even a few days.' He turned away without showing any visible concern. 'Well, Bradan the pale man, you've seen the mad foreign woman. Now, get out of my domain.'
Bradan raised his voice. 'Don't give up, Melcorka. I'll be back for you.'
Lying on her filthy straw, Melcorka smiled. There was no expression in her eyes.
* * *
It was good to be back at sea, with the wind fresh on his face and the movement of the ship lively under his feet. Bradan looked around at the Thiruzha fleet, with each of the fifty two-masted vessels manned by fifty well-armed warriors, while a drummer beat time for the naked slave oarsmen.
'You were a seaman once,' Dhraji had said to him.
'I was,' Bradan agreed.
'You can keep me company then,' Dhraji decided. 'Bhim is in command of matters military on land or sea. I am only here to observe.' Her smile broadened as she patted his thigh. 'You might come in handy if I get bored.'
Bradan forced a smile. 'I look forward to that, your Majesty.'
He had watched with interest as the Thiruzha sea-masters loaded their vessels with spears and arrows, containers of water and baskets of food. Bhim had launched one new ship across a line of tethered slaves, with a crowd cheering as her keel ripped them open and the ship was born in a shower of blood.
'Now she will not be scared of battle,' Dhraji had explained and ordered one of the now-dead slaves to be decapitated, to provide a dripping figurehead for the new ship. She had personally placed the head in position, licking the blood from her fingers.
The Thiruzha fleet rowed from Kollchi harbour in a long line, with the yellow-and-blue flag fluttering at the mast-heads and the drums beating time.
'Do you like the flag?'
Dhraji asked. 'It is my leopard, of course.'
'Of course.' Bradan looked around for the animal.
'I don't take him to sea,' Dhraji explained. 'He gets seasick.'
The sharp prow of Dhraji's vessel dipped into the waves, bouncing the row of skulls that decorated her hull and raising a curtain of fine spray that spattered onto the deck. Dhraji laughed, shaking her head. 'Lovely,' she said. 'I love the feel of water on me.'
'I'll bear that in mind, your Majesty,' Bradan murmured. 'It could be useful for variety.'
Dhraji eyed him sideways. 'You are indeed a strange man, Bradan,' she said. 'I may keep you for a long time.'
'I certainly hope so, your Majesty,' Bradan said. 'I have no desire to kiss the foot of an elephant or try to learn how to fly.'
Dhraji's laugh pealed across the ship. 'There are worse ways to die.'
Bradan thought of the mewling thing in the dungeon and said nothing.
There was something exhilarating about being part of such a fleet, witnessing the power and the colour, feeling the excitement as the oars thrust the ship onward and watching the leopard standards flail and crack at the mastheads. Bradan tried to analyse his feelings. Although he could understand the excitement of the warriors, his primary concern was to stay alive and get Melcorka free. After that, he would try and find a cure for whatever malaise affected her. He could not see beyond that point. Only Melcorka mattered. To survive, Bradan knew he needed to keep in Dhraji's good graces. He had no illusions that she genuinely liked him, or would retain his services once she tired of his company. To Dhraji, he was a temporarily entertaining novelty and nothing more. He closed his eyes and immediately saw Melcorka lying in her dungeon.
I'll survive, Melcorka, and I'll get you out, somehow.
While Bradan had been thinking, the fleet had hoisted the sails and was far out to sea. Bhim sent outriders, fast scout ships, to search for the Chola fleet. They sailed ahead, with the drummers pounding out the time and the oarsmen sweating on their benches.
'Send out the outrider scouts,' Bhim ordered through a brass speaking-trumpet and half a dozen smaller, faster craft pushed forward in a flurry of spray and flickering oars. As they sped ahead, Dhraji walked the length of the ship, pointing out any of the slaves she considered was not working hard enough and smiling as a man with a whip laid into them. The sun rose higher and arced to the west, a brassy orb that scorched the ships, bubbled the pitch between the planking and tortured the slaves as they worked unprotected on their benches.
The fleet sailed through the night, south by south-east, relentless, spread into a great line abreast so they would not miss any prey or any sign of the enemy. There was no respite for the slaves. They rowed through the darkness and were still rowing when the sun gleamed faintly orange above the eastern horizon.
'Look!' A lookout pointed to the south. 'A sail. Two sails! One of our outrider scouts is returning!'
The beating of the drum carried far in the hush of the morning. Bradan squinted into the silver dawn as the Thiruzha outrider came closer. It was travelling so fast that Bradan could nearly smell the oarsmen's sweat from a mile away.
'Lord Bhim!' the master of the scout shouted, even before the two ships closed. 'The Chola fleet is just beyond the horizon.'
'How large is it?' Bhim asked.
The answer came at once. 'The Cholas have a hundred and twenty vessels and twenty fast loolas.'
Bradan noticed the arrows that protruded from the hull of the outrider and the blood that dribbled from the scuppers. Men had died to bring that fragment of information, and more would die before this day was done.
'They've moved faster than I expected,' Bhim said. 'Damn their skins. We'll lure their loolas in and dispose of them. Outriders!' The speaking-trumpet magnified his voice, so it carried easily across the Thiruzha fleet. 'Sail out, lure them in!'
Bhim gave a string of orders that saw the fleet alter into a half-moon formation, with the outriders arrowing forward toward the enemy, leopard flags streaming out in their wake.
'Row!' Bhim roared. 'Drummers! Increase the pace!'
Each ship had a broad-shouldered man in the stern, with a massive drum in front of him. At Bhim's orders, the drummer quickened the beat, and the oarsmen kept pace, with brawny men wielding long whips to encourage the exhausted. The twin sails bellied out with the wind, adding to the speed.
'Isn't this invigorating?' Dhraji breathed deeply of the scent of sweat and excitement. 'I love the tension before battle.'
Bradan nodded. He wondered how many of these men and women would still be alive at nightfall; how many would be floating face-up in the sea and how many would be screaming, broken wrecks with arms and legs lopped off.
Dhraji squeezed Bradan's bicep. 'Are you thinking the same as I am, Bradan?'
'I was thinking of you, My Lady,' Bradan lied.
Even approaching battle, Dhraji wore three strings of pearls, with one large pearl in the centre of her ornate head-dress. 'Of course you were.' Dhraji moved her hip against him. 'If you ever stop thinking of me, I must get rid of you, and I'm not at all ready for that yet.'
'I'm glad to hear it, your Majesty, for I am not yet finished with you.' Bradan managed what he hoped was a lecherous leer.
Dhraji slapped him sharply. 'Have patience, Bradan. You are only a slave.'
'Your slave, My Lady.' Bradan bowed and salaamed. He thought of Melcorka in her foul dungeon and bent lower. 'Always your slave.'
'Here they are!' the lookout called from the masthead. 'The outriders are returning, with the Chola loolas in pursuit.'
'How many loolas?' Bhim asked.
'I see fourteen, no, fifteen, Lord Bhim, and maybe more on the flank.' The lookout was counting as he reported, balancing on the masthead as the ship bounced to the rhythm of the waves.
'Stand to your oars!' Bhim roared. 'Archers! Prepare your arrows! Drummer, increase the beat by one-half.'
As the Thiruzha scouts withdrew before the pursuing Chola loolas, the Thiruzha fleet spread even further out, with the flanking vessels increasing their speed faster than the others.
'Can you see what we are doing?' Dhraji asked.
'I see,' Bradan said. 'We are luring the Chola ships into a trap.'
'Exactly so.' Dhraji nodded. 'Now, come with me and watch.' Agile as any monkey, Dhraji climbed to the masthead, balanced easily on the slanting yardarm and smiled as the initial stage of the battle developed. Bradan followed, every bit at home on the ship as Dhraji was. He looked out to sea, enjoying the view of the limitless horizon and wondered if he and Melcorka would ever again find themselves sailing in Catriona, free of the land.
We will. I must not think otherwise. We will get away.
When the leading Chola vessels finally realised that the entire Thiruzha fleet was surrounding them, they turned to flee.
'You're too late, by Shiva!' Bhim roared 'We have you! Close the mouth!'
Like the jaws of a leopard, the two wings of the Thiruzhas closed, catching the bulk of the Chola loolas in between. Three of the Chola vessels managed to escape, with Bhim ordering his scouts to hunt them down before they reached the Chola fleet.
'Catch them and sink them!' Bhim shouted. 'Don't return until they are all destroyed. I'll have the head of any shipmaster who fails me!'
The entire flotilla of Thiruzha scouts raced after the three Chola loolas, with the drums hammering like the hooves of a galloping horse and the slave-drivers cracking their whips on naked shoulders and backs.
'Without their loolas, the Chola admiral is blind,' Dhraji said. 'He can only blunder forward, not knowing what we are doing or where we are.' Her smile broadened as she borrowed Bhim's speaking-trumpet. 'No quarter!' she shrieked. 'No quarter!'
The Thiruzha fleet closed the net, with the Chola loolas, fast vessels but much smaller than their adversaries, searching frantically for a gap that did not exist.
Dhraji licked her lips, eyes bright with excitement as the Thiruzha archers poured volley after vo
lley of arrows into the Chola loolas.
'Take that one!' Dhraji pointed to the furthest forward of the Chola loolas, which was trying to break through the Thiruzha line by speed alone. A second Chola loola followed the first, speeding toward a hopeful weakness in Bhim's trap.
Dhraji's ship altered course slightly, with the drummer pounding his drum and the oarsmen hauling as if their lives depended on it – as they probably did, Bradan thought. Dhraji watched with her mouth slightly open and her tongue flicking around her lips.
'Catch them,' Dhraji whispered and then raised her voice. 'Archers! Aim at the oarsmen! Loose!'
A volley of arrows hummed through the air, some to thunk into the hull of the Chola craft, one or two to plop into the sea and a few to transfix the Chola oarsmen.
'Archers, keep firing,' Dhraji ordered as the Chola vessel replied in kind, so arrows flew in both directions. An arrow ripped into the sail a handspan from Dhraji's left foot. She looked down in amazement. 'Somebody's firing at me,' she said and laughed. 'It's that man there!' She nodded to an archer who balanced in the crosstrees of the Chola vessel. 'It's that man in the red-and-yellow turban. What fun!'
Bradan inched closer to Dhraji. 'Stay close to me, your Majesty and I'll protect you.'
'Oh, Bradan, you are the most amusing slave I have ever owned. Let's play a game with this archer.' Dhraji stood and stepped further along the spar, spreading her legs and arms. 'There, you impudent little man. There's a target for you. Let's see if you can hit me, or not.'
Bradan shook his head. 'No, my Lady!' If the Chola archer killed Dhraji, Bradan knew his life would be short and unpleasant, leaving Melcorka very vulnerable. 'You are too valuable. I need you, Lady Dhraji!'
'Oh, Bradan, where did I find you? Are there others like you in Alba?' Despite the arrows that hummed and screamed around her, Dhraji smiled at Bradan. 'Perhaps I should order a raid on Alba and bring home a hundred men like you!'
Bradan thought of the fierce swordsmen of the Lord of the Isles and the disciplined Pictish spearmen. 'As Your Majesty pleases,' he said.
'You could guide us there.' Dhraji toyed with the idea. 'We'll discuss it later.'
Melcorka Of Alba Page 10