Melcorka Of Alba

by Malcolm Archibald

  '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 the north to defeat the evil from the south when the sun sets in the east.'

  '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 a hold with her toes and pushed on.

  The wall had a slight overhang, necessitating Melcorka to hang backwards with her head further out than her body. She remained like that for a moment, then vaulted onto the battlements and rolled through a crenel, swearing inwardly when the hilt of Defender caught the final merlon with an audible click.

  'Who's there?' The nearest sentry spun round. 'Who's that?'

  Leaping forward, Melcorka clamped a hand over the sentry's mouth. Without
drawing Defender, she jabbed her straight fingers into the pressure point nearest his throat. When the man stiffened into paralysed silence, Melcorka pulled the dirk from under her arm and thrust it into his heart. Tossing the body over the wall, she dropped the rope for Kosala and looked around, just as clouds covered the moon, obscuring her view. She barely had time to see starlight glinting on helmets and spear points before Kosala joined her.

  'Now what, Melcorka?'

  'Now this.' Melcorka unfastened the rope and tossed it over the wall. 'There is no going back, Kosala. Either we succeed, or we die here.'

  'That is the warrior's bargain.'

  'Take me to the guardhouse above the gate,' Melcorka said.

  Nodding, Kosala set off at a trot. Stairs descended from the interior of the outer wall to an internal courtyard, with the squat bulk of the keep rising beyond. Guards patrolled both the wall and the courtyard, some looking efficient, others evidently lulled into slackness by a sense of the fort's impregnability.

  Kosala led them around the shadowed rim of the courtyard, dodging into a dark corner as a patrol tramped past. 'That doorway leads to the interior of the fort.' Kosala nodded to an iron-studded door outside which two guards were lounging, one chewing betel nuts and the other crooning a song of love and lust.

  'The guards don't look very alert,' Melcorka whispered.

  'Why should they be? Nobody has captured this fort in a hundred years.' Kosala shrugged. 'Only a few weeks ago, they swatted aside a Chola assault with the loss of only two men.' He moved on another twenty paces and ducked into a recess. 'If you plan to go inside the fort, we will have to use that door.'

  'Where are the slaves held?' Melcorka asked.

  'Through that door and down in the dungeons.' Kosala's eyes darkened. 'I'm not going back down there.'

  'Bradan might be there,' Melcorka said.

  'Are we not here to open the Seagate?' Kosala asked.

  'Yes.' Melcorka stiffened against the wall as another patrol shambled past. 'I'm also looking for Bradan. He is more important to me than the fate of the Chola Empire.'

  Kosala nodded. 'He is a fortunate man to have a woman such as you.'

  'We have had many adventures together,' Melcorka said. 'I hope we shall have many more. Do you have any suggestions for getting through that door? Or is there another way into the keep?'

  'No.' Kosala shook his head. 'The fort was designed for defence, not comfort. Everybody uses that gate.'

  'How about the catapults? They could not have been carried through that small gate.'

  'The boats brought them in pieces from the mainland and engineers assembled them here.'

  'Where is the anchorage for the boats?' Melcorka's mind was three steps ahead of Kosala's.

  'Over that way.' Kosala pointed left. 'Down those stairs.'

  'Is there access from there to the dungeons?'

  'Oh yes. The Thiruzhas took us directly from the boats to the dungeons.'

  'That's our way then,' Melcorka said.

  'I did not think of that,' honest Kosala admitted.

  The fort was built around an inlet in the cliffs, which industrious engineers had widened into a harbour at some time in the past. Melcorka stood watching for a moment, but the harbour was quiet, with a single-masted vessel berthed alongside a stone platform. A pile of sacks sat beside the ship, together with a few score leather bottles.

  'Which way is it to the dungeons, Kosala?'

  'Over there.' Kosala sounded tense.

  Set into the wall of the cliff, the door led to a flight of stairs that descended into stygian blackness. 'I'll go first.' Melcorka drew Defender. 'What else is down there?'

  'A nightmare,' Kosala whispered, gripping his sword. 'A place that makes you wish to die rather than live.'

  'Are there any guards?'

  Kosala nodded. 'Sometimes they visit.'

  'The security on this island is very lax,' Melcorka said. 'I thought it would be much more stringent.'

  The stench hit Melcorka even before she reached the dungeon. The gut-wrenching, stomach-heaving stink of unwashed humans held in close confinement after hours, days and weeks of constant hard labour. The slaves were confined in a single colossal chamber, chained together at the ankles as they lay on bare, weeping stone. A single guard leaned on a short spear, his head nodding in near-slumber. Without a word, Kosala thrust his sword through the man's throat.

  Melcorka watched the guard slump to the ground.

  'I remember him,' Kosala said, shuddering at a bitter memory. 'He was a brute.'

  Fighting her nausea, Melcorka peered into the unlit chamber. The slaves lay side by side, a dark mass of exhausted men and women. 'Is there a torch?'

  'No torch. No light,' Kosala said.

  'I want to find Bradan,' Melcorka said. 'How can we free them?'

  'Simple. The slaves are attached to a mutual chain.' Kosala pointed to a key at the guard's belt. 'That key fits a single lock that releases everybody.'

  'Release them,' Melcorka ordered.

  'A couple of hundred slaves charging around the place will alert the garrison that we are here,' Kosala warned.

  'I can think of no other way of finding Bradan,' Melcorka said. 'Besides, could there be a better diversion to drag the defenders away from the guardhouse?'

  'The guards will slaughter them like sheep,' Kosala said.

  'Some might survive, and better a quick death by the edge of a sword than a lingering death as a slave.'

  The key turned with an audible click. Some of the slaves looked up with dread in their eyes. 'You are free,' Melcorka said. 'Go and attack the guards. Kill your tormentors before they kill you.' She raised her voice above the increasing hubbub. 'Bradan! Is Bradan the Wanderer in here? Has anybody seen a pale-skinned foreigner?'

  There was no response as the slaves either cringed in fear, stared at her in astonishment, or ran out of the chamber.

  'Hurry!' Kosala shouted at them. 'Get out, find the Thiruzha guards and kill them.' He watched the slaves pass in a stinking rush of bewildered, naked humanity. 'Poor, deluded fools. They won't last a minute.' Lifting the guard's spear, he shoved it into the hands of the nearest man. 'Here, take this.'

  Melcorka stood at the entrance, her hope fading as the chamber emptied. She grabbed a few of the slaves, asking them the same question. 'Have you seen a fair-skinned stranger?'

  They stared at her in bewilderment, shook their heads and wriggled free.

  Melcorka swore softly. 'Bradan, where are you?'

  'Dhraji may be holding him in the dungeons of Kollchi,' Kosala said. 'If he's there, we'll only find him if we take the city, which we can't do unless we capture this island.'

  'You're right.' Melcorka heard the rising noise as the slaves erupted into the fort. 'Lead me to this guardhouse.' She drew Defender. 'Let us kill.'

  They ran from the dungeons, pushing aside any slaves that lingered in their path.

  'This way.' Kosala led Melcorka up a narrow flight of stairs. 'The slaves will go up the broad steps and the garrison will meet them there. This is the officers' route.'

  Melcorka grunted. 'I thought these stairs were better kept. Even rakshasas have a class system.' She heard footsteps ahead, saw the flicker of torches and motioned Kosala to stop.

  The group of officers were half-dressed and only half awake. Melcorka killed the first two before the remainder realised what was happening. She watched Kosala slice the third man's head clean off and finished the fourth with a neat thrust to the chest. Stepping over the jumbled bodies, Melcorka continued upward. 'How far?'

  'Three more flights of stairs,' Kosala said.

  The noise was increasing as the slaves attacked the now-waking garrison. Another group of officers rushed down the narrow stairs, this time with their swords ready. Melcorka had to fight harder to dispose of them.

  'They are learning,' she said.

  'This way.' Kosala bounded ahead.

  They met more guards now, singly, or in squads rushing to see what
all the noise was, and Kosala disposed of them with Melcorka guarding his back. Only one spearman gave serious opposition as he thrust at Kosala from a higher position. Kosala sliced through his spear, grabbed hold of the broken shaft and pulled him down for Melcorka to kill.

  'We fight well together.' Kosala scampered light-footed up a final flight of stairs and halted before a closed door. 'It's always barred on the inside.'

  'Knock politely and demand access,' Melcorka suggested. 'Pretend you're an officer. Your accent is far better than mine.'

  Kosala rapped loudly on the door. 'Open up! It's the commander!'

  There was a pause before a voice replied. 'Which commander?'

  'Don't be impertinent! Open this door or you'll be kissing the elephant's foot before the day is out.'

  Melcorka heard the rumble of wood as the beam was withdrawn. 'The voice of authority,' she said. 'That's the downfall of rigid discipline. People lose the ability to think for themselves.'

  The second the door inched open, Melcorka shoved it as hard as she could and ran in, sword swinging. The room was larger than she had expected, with about thirty men in various stages of readiness. The first two stepped back in surprise, so she killed them with a single sweep of her sword and launched herself in an attack on the others, with Kosala following her.

  After only a few moments, it became obvious that the guardhouse garrison had no stomach for a fight. Some immediately fled, others begged for quarter and only a few dared to face Melcorka and Kosala sword-to-sword.

  'They're running,' Kosala said, as the remnants of the garrison crowded out of the door. He shouted after them. 'Fight me! Fight me so I can kill you!'

  'Never mind them,' Melcorka said. 'Let them go and bolt the door. Keep the Thiruzhas out until we can raise the gate.'

  While Kosala banged shut the door and slammed the beam into place, Melcorka surveyed the mechanism for raising the Seagate. 'This looks simple enough,' she said. 'We haul on these levers and they wind the chain around that drum and draw the gate back from the opening.'