'This might get dangerous, Mel,' Bradan said. 'Take a deep breath.' He demonstrated by opening his mouth wide and drawing in air with as much noise as possible. Melcorka smiled and copied him, giggling like a two-year-old.
'Ready?' Bradan lifted her up, and, unable to stop himself, kissed her on the forehead. 'God go with us, Mel.' As he dropped into the river, he had another glimpse of that black-and-white shimmer.
The water was surprisingly warm. Bradan had no time to think, concentrating on gripping Melcorka tightly as the current whirled him away, plunging downward with the force of a waterfall. Melcorka struggled against him, trying to break free. Bradan held her close, hoping that they would reach air before Melcorka took deep draughts of water and they drowned here in the terrible darkness under Dhraji's dungeons.
Pain mounted in Bradan's chest. Fighting the desire to breathe, he slipped his hand across Melcorka's mouth as she struggled against him, her eyes wide with uncomprehending fear. She kicked and pushed, making small noises of panic, until suddenly, they exploded into fresh air and dawn's dim daylight, with the youth bobbing at their side and a gaggle of washerwomen staring at them. When Bradan slid his hand away from Melcorka's mouth, she dragged in a great mouthful of air, staring at him as if he were torturing her.
'Hurry!' The youth was not even out of breath. 'This way.' He jumped from the river and ran past the women. One woman gestured shyly at the naked youth, covering her mouth with a delicate hand. The others began to chatter, pointing to Bradan.
'They know you're a foreigner,' the youth shouted. 'Hurry! Run! They'll tell the Thiruzha soldiers.'
Glancing over his shoulder, Bradan saw the city walls a good quarter of a mile behind them. He wondered what the monster he knew as Dhraji would think when she found him gone, dismissed the thought and concentrated on following the youth, who seemed to be able to swim and run non-stop without drawing breath. They moved through dense woodland, jinking and dodging between the trunks of trees and leaping over increasingly tangled undergrowth.
'Where are we going?' Melcorka asked.
'I don't know.' Bradan held her as tightly as he could. 'Hold on to me.'
They ran for an hour and stopped beside a small stream. The youth picked some fruits from a tree, passed them to Bradan and smiled. 'What's your name?'
'I am Bradan the Wanderer, from Alba.' Bradan put Melcorka gently onto the ground. 'This is Melcorka of Alba.'
'I am Banduka,' the youth said. 'You are very pale-faced. Is it a disease?'
'In Alba, where we come from, everybody is this colour.'
The youth shook his head, evidently not believing Bradan's story.
'Where are you taking us?' Bradan asked.
'Not far now.' The youth stopped at the sound of a whistle.
'He is taking you nowhere.' A deep voice sounded from behind the trees as a man emerged. He held a bow, with the arrow pointed directly at Bradan's chest. Others followed, dark-skinned, broad-chested men with crude bows in their hands.
'I know you,' the deep-voiced man said. 'You were with the rakshasa called Dhraji.' He pulled back the string of his bow. 'You're going no further.'
'No!' Banduka stepped between Bradan and the arrow. 'He saved my life. He is running from the demon.'
'We should kill him,' the deep-voiced man said.
'No, Kosala! He is a friend!' Banduka said. 'He rescued the woman, killed the jailer and set me free.'
'He might be a Thiruzha spy.' Kosala moved sideways, keeping his arrow pointed towards Bradan.
'We can ask Chaturi,' Banduka said. 'She will know what is best to do.'
Much to Bradan's relief, Kosala finally lowered his arrow. 'We will do that. If she says to let him live, we will let him live. If she says to kill him, we will kill them both.'
'Melcorka is harmless,' Bradan said. 'She is sick in her mind just now. You cannot kill her.'
'Yes, I can.' Kosala looked more than capable of following up his words. 'Stay in front of me, Rakshasa-lover, and if I even suspect you are signalling to anybody else, or leaving a trail for the Thiruzha to follow, I will gut you and leave you to die in slow agony.'
'I will come with you,' Bradan knew he had no choice. Sometimes, he wished that he was a fighting man. It was getting a little tiresome, coping with threats from all these violent people.
Bradan counted twenty people in the group, most looking more like refugees than warriors. Kosala took charge, organising them into a central column with scouts out on the flanks, one man in front and another in the rear.
'I can walk,' Melcorka said.
Kosala placed himself two paces behind Bradan, growling threats every time Bradan slowed to support Melcorka over a rougher-than-normal section of ground. They walked steadily, covering the ground at a trot and barely making a sound as they threaded through the trees. Twice they stopped, while Kosala checked the track behind them as they continued deeper into the forest, gradually moving onto rising ground. Insects plagued them, while birds competed with monkeys to chatter and scream in the trees all around.
Bradan had lost count of the time when they eventually halted. They had travelled through the day and night and well into the next day, so the sun was halfway to its zenith. He was flagging through hunger and thirst, his muscles ached from supporting Melcorka, yet he knew that every step took them further from Kollchi and its memories. As Melcorka fell for the twentieth time and Kosala gave a warning snarl, Bradan lifted her bodily and draped her across his back.
'If she falls again,' Kosala said, 'I will slit her throat.'
'If you even touch her,' Bradan glared at him, 'I will kill you.'
'Up there.' Banduka pushed them apart and pointed to a steep, forest-covered hill.
Bradan nodded. All he could see was a tangle of trees and undergrowth. 'Is there a path?'
'Blindfold him,' Kosala said, and within seconds, somebody had slipped a cloth over Bradan's eyes. 'Now, walk!'
Stumbling in the sudden dark, Bradan felt somebody grab his arm and half pull, half guide him onto what was evidently a narrow and very steep track. He followed, with Melcorka staggering at his side.
'I could kill them now,' Kosala said.
'No. They are friends,' Banduka reminded him.
Bradan swore as he slipped and nearly fell. He struggled up an ever-steepening slope that seemed to last for hours and then eventually, with his heart hammering, his leg muscles on fire and his breath coming in short gasps, his guide stopped him.
'Here we are.' Banduka sounded cheerful.
Bradan blinked in the sudden light as his blindfold was removed.
He stood in the centre of a small village, with the houses built of mud and wood, roofed with palm leaves. A circle of dark-skinned, lithe, wary-looking people stared at him, with the men carrying short bows or swords and the women wearing colourful saris.
'Where am I?' Bradan blinked in the sunlight. A myriad flies buzzed around his head, while monkeys screeched from the bough of a tree.
'In a village.' Kosala fingered his sword. 'Chaturi will examine you.'
'Who is Chaturi?' Bradan looked around.
'I am.' The woman sat cross-legged on a small, three-legged stool in front of one of the huts. 'I hear they call you Bradan the Wanderer and you were the lover of the rakshasa Dhraji.'
'That's correct,' Bradan said.
'And your woman is Melcorka of Alba.'
'That is also correct,' Bradan nodded. 'Melcorka is not well inside her head just now.'
'I will speak to you first,' Chaturi said. 'Leave the woman here.'
'She needs water and food.' Bradan did not leave Melcorka's side. 'And she needs shade from the sun.'
Chaturi gave a small smile. 'Banduka will ensure she is comfortable. I give you my word that nobody will harm her unless I think you are a spy for the rakshasa.'
'Melcorka cannot be a spy.' Bradan jerked a thumb toward her. 'She's not at all well. She hardly knows her own name.'
Chaturi glanced at Melcorka a
nd gestured to the hut behind her. 'Come in, Bradan the Wanderer.'
The interior of the hut was simple, with an earth floor and minimal furniture. Chaturi sat on a stool and handed another to Bradan. 'Sit opposite me. How did you get that scar on your head?'
'That was a war club in another country far away.' Bradan touched the scar as the memories slid back.
Chaturi nodded. 'How did you get to this country?'
'We have a small boat. There was an underwater explosion that caused a storm. The storm drove us off-course. We did not know where we were. We sailed north and ended up here.'
Chaturi asked questions and listened to the answers as Bradan gradually revealed details of the adventures he and Melcorka had endured.
'Tell me about Dhraji,' Chaturi asked. 'Tell me all you know about her.'
'She is the rani of the country, a powerful woman, cruel and cunning and very dangerous.' Bradan became aware that Chaturi's gaze seemed to bore right inside his head. 'Killing intrigues her. She finds it stimulating. Your friend Banduka told me that the Dhraji I knew was a demon, a rakshasa, in disguise.'
'You lasted longer than any of her previous lovers,' Chaturi said. 'People think you are the same as her.'
'I do not understand what you mean,' Bradan said. 'I am no rakshasa, and I do not kill for fun.'
'Look at me.' Chaturi put her finger under Bradan's chin and lifted his face. 'Let me inside your mind.'
About to protest, Bradan realised he was already too late. He could feel Chaturi's presence within his mind, probing his thoughts, exploring his memories of Dhraji, testing his motives and actions. He felt the sweat breaking out on his forehead as Chaturi investigated his most intimate memories. The sudden jerk as she left surprised him.
'You are very loyal to her,' Chaturi said.
'I was trying to keep alive, and keep Melcorka alive.' Bradan defended his actions. 'If I had allowed anybody to kill Dhraji, my life and Melcorka's would have been very short.'
'You misunderstand me.' Chaturi gave a small smile. 'I did not mean you were loyal to the false Dhraji. I meant you are very loyal to Melcorka.'
'We've been together for a long time,' Bradan said.
'It is more than that.' Chaturi's smile broadened. 'Come with me.'
The entire population of the village was waiting outside, with the men fingering their weapons and the women looking anxious.
'This man is no spy,' Chaturi said quietly. 'We can trust him.'
'Thank you.' Bradan breathed out slowly. He saw something like regret cross Kosala's face.
Chaturi nodded to Melcorka. 'Bring in the woman.'
'I'd like to be present while you examine her,' Bradan said.
'I know you would.' Chaturi smiled with her eyes. 'You may stay beside her, Bradan.'
'Where are we going?' Melcorka asked, as Bradan helped her to her feet.
'This lady is going to talk to you,' Bradan said. 'Just do as she tells you, Mel, and everything will be fine.' That black-and-white mass was back, drifting beside them as Chaturi led them back into her hut.
'Hello, Melcorka,' Chaturi said quietly, as she placed Melcorka opposite her. Bradan sat cross-legged in the corner, watching intently.
'Hello.' Melcorka smiled at Chaturi. 'Where am I?'
'You are somewhere safe.' Leaning forward, Chaturi touched Melcorka's forearm. 'You tell me where you are.'
Melcorka retained her smile and the dazed look in her eyes. The black-and-white cloud formed beside her. 'I am here,' she said.
'Do you know where here is?' Chaturi asked.
'Somewhere safe,' Melcorka said.
'I want you to help me,' Chaturi said. 'Could you do that?'
Melcorka nodded, as eager as a child. 'Yes, I can do that.'
'Thank you.' Taking hold of both Melcorka's hands, Chaturi stared into her eyes. 'I want you to let me inside your head. Is that all right?'
'That's all right,' Melcorka said.
'Look at me, please,' Chaturi said. 'Look into my eyes and don't look away.'
Bradan desperately wanted to help. He ached to get Melcorka back to herself again. He watched as Chaturi focussed on Melcorka while that black-and-white miasma drifted around them both. Chaturi's face altered as she concentrated, and there was a definite wince as she connected with Melcorka.
Oh please, dear God, help Melcorka. Whatever it takes, help Melcorka. Take my life and my mind if it restores Mel to herself.
The black-and-white miasma moved toward Bradan and returned to Melcorka, as Chaturi's face altered.
Bradan was not aware of the passage of time. He only knew that Chaturi was probing within Melcorka's mind. He saw the pupils of Chaturi's eyes dilate until there was no white left, and then shrink back to normal. The miasma remained, formless, hovering beside Melcorka. A bird called outside, the notes strangely elongated, as if time had slowed down.
Bradan again felt the jerk as Chaturi emerged from Melcorka's mind. Chaturi slumped, with perspiration sliding down her face and her eyes wild and unfocused.
After a few moments, Chaturi asked, 'Who did this to her?'
'Who did what?' Bradan already knew the answer. The kanaima's curse.
Chaturi touched Melcorka's head. 'Somebody has cursed this woman. Who put a curse on her?'
'There was a kanaima on the other side of the world,' Bradan said. 'Melcorka was herself before then, and has not been right ever since.'
'I've never heard of a kanaima,' Chaturi said. 'If you can find him, he might lift the curse.'
'She is dead,' Bradan said. 'Melcorka cut off her head before she could finish the curse.'
'That is a pity.' Chaturi sighed. 'Dead people cannot remove their curses.' She thought for a few moments, with her hand remaining on Melcorka's head. 'I saw blankness inside here, yet Melcorka is still there. She is inside, striving to get out, desperate to escape the prison of her mind, fighting to remove the swamp of unease and doubt and negativity of the curse.' Chaturi looked into Bradan's eyes. 'A curse of this strength would have killed most people. Melcorka is a very strong woman to survive.'
Bradan felt a surge of relief. 'Is there hope for her?'
'With this woman,' Chaturi nearly smiled, 'there will always be hope. Your Melcorka will not give up until she is dead, and I doubt she will give up even then.' She looked directly at Bradan. 'What did this kanaima say? What were the exact words of the curse?'
Bradan thought back to the battle on the island. 'She said: “I curse you. I curse you in your body and in your mind. I curse you in your possessions and your strength. I curse you in your travels and your weather. I curse you until the balance of the world is restored.” She was going to say more but Melcorka cut off her head.'
'A pity your friend had not been a little faster. I suspect this kanaima was a black witch, which are evil things whatever name they go under. They can communicate with demons and do nothing but harm.' Chaturi sighed. 'But at least we know what we have to do to restore Melcorka to herself again.'
'What is that?'
'Why, what did the curse say? The kanaima cursed Melcorka in her body – well, you can see how weak she is – and the kanaima cursed her in her mind, which has evidently been altered. Melcorka now has the mind of a child. The kanaima cursed her in her possessions, now she has lost her sword, and the Thiruzhas have taken your ship.'
'That is all accurate,' Bradan said.
'The kanaima cursed her strength, and by the look of Melcorka she can barely stand upright. It cursed her travels; soon afterward, a storm drove you well off-course.' Chaturi sighed. 'Whatever that kanaima was, it had power; it was in touch with the demons of the underworld.' Chaturi lowered her voice. 'It may even have been a demon itself.'
Bradan nodded. 'How can I lift the curse?'
Chaturi sighed. 'It won't be easy. The kanaima said your friend was cursed until the balance of the world is restored. Are you sure that is what it said?'
'As far as I can remember,' Bradan said.
'All right th
en. If the balance is restored, then Melcorka will recover.'
Bradan held Melcorka as she swayed to one side. 'Is the world unbalanced? And if so, how can we restore it?'
Chaturi looked grave. 'Have you heard of the nine Siddhars?'
'I have not,' Bradan said. 'Educate me.'
'We do not have time to learn all about our religion,' Chaturi said. 'Perhaps I can tell you later, if you wish to learn.'
'I always wish to learn,' Bradan said.
Chaturi nodded. 'In that case, you are already a practitioner. Now, listen and I will say this simply. A Siddhar is a spiritual seeker who has attained his goal. There are Siddhars who practise Sadhana, a form of spiritual meditation to seek liberation on a higher plane than this earth.' Chaturi struggled to explain. 'In your western culture, the equivalent would be mystics or monks who seek solitude in desert places.'
Bradan nodded. 'We have men in Alba who live solitary lives on remote islands.'
'You understand the concept, then.' Chaturi said. 'Good. We have nine Siddhars who have reached the required highest level. These Siddhars control time and space by using yoga and meditation.'
'That's impressive.' Bradan held Melcorka as she slumped to the ground. He placed her in a more comfortable position. 'Please continue.'
'Siddhars are a bit like your Christian saints, but with the addition of being alchemists and doctors.' Chaturi smiled. 'Does that make sense to you?'
'It does,' Bradan said.
'Good. When all nine Siddhars are together in their mystic mountain…'
Bradan held up a hand. 'I'm lost now,' he said. 'Where is this mystic mountain, please?'
'It is called Sathuragiri, and it's in the Ghats,' Chaturi said. 'You know the Ghats?'
'I've seen them in the distance,' Bradan said. 'They run parallel to the western coast of Bharata Khanda, some miles inland.'
'That's right,' Chaturi approved. 'When all nine Siddhars are together on Sathuragiri, the world has balance. Good and evil counterbalance each other, men and women live their lives, and things are as they should be.'
Bradan glanced at Melcorka; he was not sure if she was listening. 'I see. Am I right in understanding that the world is not balanced at present?'
Melcorka Of Alba Page 13