Now came the torture.
He would need to get as much info out of me as possible. Try to get me to confess to a conspiracy, and use that in international propaganda no doubt.
All I had to do was get out of this predicament and find the Emperor.
Easier said than done. They’d strung me up by the arms, with the metal cuffs cutting into my wrists. Changing would be difficult, there was no way I could be sure that the change would free me from the restraints. They might just cut into my skin instead of snapping open. I would just have to grin and bear it.
It would be a waiting game. Again.
I had been in the dungeon for a full day and night, maybe a little shorter, I don’t know, but it felt very long. It was almost daylight again.
The door opened and Abhor came in, accompanied by two of his guards.
‘Well, well, now look at the mess you’ve gotten yourself into.’ He chuckled, clearly enjoying himself. He strode up to where I hung and slowly circled me. Pushing me with one of his fat fingers, he laughed.
‘As you will have guessed by now, I am not the traitor that you and your principals thought me to be.’ Standing in front of me again he added: ‘I am loyal to our great leader. Together we set up this scam. Together we have humiliated your secret service and with that the government of your pathetic country. We will elicit a confession from you, after all you are a mere woman, and with that, we will further disgrace Britain and its King.’ He was officially gloating now.
Then he surprised even me. ‘But first, our great Emperor has decided that you will bask in his radiance. He wishes to see whom the chutia British King has sent to do his dirty work. He will oversee your torture and finally your death.’
Now that was unexpected and very convenient. I would finally get closer to my target, and they would have to let me down to move me. At least as long as the Emperor didn’t come here. But I reasoned that this dungeon would probably not be a place that he would visit.
I was right. An hour later they came for me. Releasing me from the cuffs they marched me off to the Emperor. I guess they considered me a very small threat as they didn’t tie my hands or anything like that. Although the six-man guard did seem like a bit of a contradiction.
They bundled me in a car where I was sandwiched between two burly guys on the back seat. The windows weren’t blinded so I looked at the scenery while we drove the few miles through the town and out to the palace. It took ages due to the overfull roads. There were cars and busses, but the general means of transport here seemed to be bicycles or horse-drawn carts. Even the cars that were here seemed ancient. The country looked backward. This was in stark contrast to the information I had about the wealth of Bharat. So where was it? Who was benefitting from all that money?
The questions were answered once we left the town centre again. The money was concentrated in the small group of influential politicians and businessmen living in the villa areas we were driving through. The further out we went, the bigger the houses and the more pompous the entourage and decoration. These villas made Abhor’s pale in comparison.
The difference between rich and poor was enormous in this country. The poor lived in whatever cramped quarters they could find, or boxes if none were available, and the rich lived in palaces. It was a wonder that the poor didn’t revolt. But that had a lot to do with the fully re-instated cast system and the overwhelming presence of the military on the streets. The villas and palaces on the other side of the scale, were bastions, heavily patrolled by armed guards. Cameras were visible every twenty meters. The roads, buildings and gardens were under surveillance 24/7.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
They took her to the palace of the Taj Mahal. She had seen the complex on the Internet and in the streams that Barkley had provided. But nothing could have prepared her for the actual experience. The buildings were enormous and very impressive. Bharata had made this icon of India his home. It was no longer a tourist attraction or strictly a Muslim mausoleum. Bharata had restored it to its earlier splendour and added a new purpose—the seat of the almighty ruler of the continent. The mausoleum still held centre stage for the complex, but another building in the same style had been erected in the extended formal gardens. The red sandstone walls had been enlarged to border another three hectares of constructions and gardens. The new structure mirrored the style of the original building with its white walls and massive dome, but exceeded it in size and gold-plated decoration. The building connected to the Mosque, a new Hindu temple and the guest-house with its long corridors to create a massive palace that transcended anything earlier seen in India. The inside was completely decorated in the gilded Indian fashion, in that it was almost a step into the past.
Jess was taken through the long corridors to a massive room inside the new part of the palace. There was gold filigree everywhere, with multiple portraits of the maharajahs of old and the current emperor. Many sofas littered the enormous space. Brocade pillows were scattered on them and on the beautiful afghan rugs that covered the multi-coloured tiles. The domed ceilings and many alcoves completed the picture.
The emperor obviously had an eye for the dramatic. His own appearance was completely in sync with the environment. The dark blue velvet of his tunic was bedazzled with gold embroidery, many precious stones, and pearls. The white turban on his head was laced with strands of gold and pearls. He was a regal man. Completely at home in his formal garb and this over-the-top environment. He fancied himself the ultimate Maharajah, and it showed.
Standing at six-foot-four he was an unusually tall man for his origin, in that easily overshadowing all of his subjects. His height and corresponding athletic physique made him a handsome man. At fifty-five, he was at the peak of his life.
Bharata was reading an old scroll when Jess was brought into the room. He didn’t look up until all the others present, with the exception of Jess, had bowed their head in reverence.
Abhor screamed at Jess to bow her head. She stayed where and as she was, refusing to bow to anyone, Bharata was no exception. The emperor seemed amused by this. The guard next to Abhor was about to strike her to force her into compliance when one wave of the emperor’s hand stopped him.
Replacing the scroll on the desk, Bharata approached Jess. He was obviously intrigued. Walking around her, he examined this somewhat scruffy prisoner. He could see the gem inside. Continuing back to face her he locked eyes with Jess. At that moment, something strange happened. Her ochre eyes mesmerised him. He lost himself in the strange yellow hue. Never had he seen such beauty before in a woman. Delighted with this new experience he took a few steps back.
‘My Lord’ Abhor had the floor. ‘This is the devil bitch spy.’
‘I gathered.’ The emperor had a deep and melodious voice. All the more apparent in the contrast with the shrill sound of Abhor.
‘We will torture her. Force her to reveal any information she has, and send her pathetic body back to her masters in pieces’ the advisor continued.
Bhatara watched Jess, gauging her reaction to Abhor’s words. When none came, his amusement intensified. She was obviously not impressed by the fat man, or by him for that matter.
He stopped Abhor’s ranting with another wave of his hand.
‘I think not Abhor. It would be a sin to kill such a diamond in the rough’ he continued to appraise the woman in front of him. ‘There is a beautiful woman underneath the grime and filth.’ He turned to his butler-come servant. ‘Have her cleaned up, dressed in the finest silks and then bring her back. I would see what the finished diamond looks like before I pass judgement.’
‘My lord’ Abhor tried. ‘She is a spy. She does not deserve such consideration. She is an enemy.’
‘She was.’ The emperor softly but insistently. ‘We will see what she becomes.’
Abhor bowed, fuming inside but unable to contradict his emperor. The servant called for new guards to take Jess away to get cleaned up. ‘Bring her to the Hakima.’
Encouraged by the fo
ur enormous guards, and accompanied by the servant, Jess was propelled out of the room and down yet another corridor.
Later that day, after many baths, some scrubbing and a lot of massage and scenting, Jess was dressed in a beautiful pale sari over a gold embroidered deep ochre lehenga and choli. Her hair was bound up and decorated with pearls and precious stones. Elaborate jewellery and subtle make up finished the package.
She was brought before the emperor again.
There could not have been a greater contrast to the creature he had seen earlier that day. She was stunning. The sari fit her beautifully, hugging her perfect athletic figure. The colour accentuated her eyes. He was captivated.
‘Truly magnificent’ he exclaimed. ‘Come.’ He gestured to the table where a banquet waited. ‘Join me for dinner.’
Jess stepped up to the table and took the seat that the ever-present guard pulled back for her. She noticed there were no sharp utensils. The man was smitten, but not an idiot. She was the enemy after all. Only more so than he could imagine.
‘I hope that the food is to your liking’ her host said as servants brought bowls of fruit, sticky pastries and a broth. Later a green curry followed with rice and naan bread. It tasted wonderful, especially after the meagre prison food of the past few days. She was hungry. She wolfed the food down.
The emperor laughed. ‘I see that my fears were ungrounded. You obviously appreciate the food.’
They finished the dinner and sipped a very expensive wine. It looked as though the emperor only abided by the religious dictates if they were to his liking. Alcohol, though forbidden, was bountiful here. The red wine was full and fruity. Jess enjoyed the taste.
‘You are an exceptionally beautiful woman’ Bharata stated. ‘You will be a wonderful addition to my harem.’
‘Not if I can help it’ Jess replied, much to his amusement.
‘You will change your mind.’ He was so sure of himself. ‘In time, you will come to love me, as the others do. You will give yourself willingly to me. I will not force myself on you. That does not excite me. I will convince you to offer your femininity freely. You will want to grace my bed. And then, then I will welcome you.’
‘Don’t hold your breath.’ Jess whispered so softly that Bharata didn’t hear her.
’As of tomorrow, you will stay here in my chambers by day. You will be party to everything that is important in my life. My work, my friends, everything. I will show you the kind of man that I am. That will open your heart. Then you will be mine in every way.’
Jess remained silent. She was contemplating the possibilities. If she went along with his ridiculous idea she would be able to get close to him quickly. His bed would be an opportunity to kill the man. To fulfil the contract. Then she could finally get around to the real reason that she was here in Bharat.
Bharata signalled the guard who escorted her from the chambers and brought her to a secure room—comfortable but heavily guarded. They were not taking any chances. Despite Bharata’s conviction that she would idolise him, she was still a spy, maybe even an assassin.
The next day she was once again clothed in the finest silks—red this time—and brought to the emperor’s quarters. There, she was surprised by an enormous gilded cage that now filled one corner of the vast room. It was for her. She was to stay in the cage by day. The furniture in the cage looked comfortable, but it was a cage never the less.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Well, once again not exactly according to plan, but still, I was closer to the Emperor.
The cage was not part of the strategy, but after secretly testing the ornate bars, I decided that it wouldn’t really be too much of a challenge. It was more for show I guess. Part of the great drama and ostentatiousness that characterised the emperor.
He was quite a character.
Dressed in gilded silk flowing robe—embroidered with scenes taken from ancient legends and heroic tales—he glided over the marble floor. He, and the whole palace, looked as though they had jumped out of a really bad Bollywood film. It was so unbelievably over-the-top, it was ridiculous. Would have been funny if the setting wasn’t so serious.
Here I was in the presence of a megalomaniac who had the whole western continent on its knees. This was the exact suite of rooms where he made his decisions about which country he would invade next. Which people he would subdue. He was a tyrant. That was a given, and I have seen my share of them, though never one that was living in such an extreme make-believe world like Bharata. He had turned back time a few hundred years in an attempt to bring back the glamour and idolatrous of ancient times.
He wanted me near—that was obvious. But why he thought it was a good idea to let me in on all the important meetings he had with his advisors was weird. I couldn’t believe his reasoning. He knew that I was a spy, sent here by the British or Australian government—that much was clear. I guess the only reason why it wouldn’t make any difference what I heard, was because he wasn’t going to let me get out of his sight anyway.
Every day his servants dressed me in the most beautiful silk saris. My hair was styled in intricate designs to show my beauty even more. There was a small fortune in pearls in my hair at any moment. That, and the gaudy gold and emerald jewellery that adorned my neck and arms, would buy a small kingdom.
I guess he was showing me off—a prized possession.
He hadn’t touched me yet. That was all a matter of time. At least in his mind. I wouldn’t let it get that far. I was here for one reason only—to kill him.
This strange situation had been going on for six days now, and to be quite frank, I was getting sick of it. I do not do well in restricted environments. Plus, I was bored. Every meeting dragged on and on. They were mainly monologues. Bharata talked and decided, the rest nodded and clapped. It was straight out of a bad script. There was no doubt who was pulling all the shots here.
I learned a lot during the meetings. I think they underestimated my grasp of the language. Besides that, they were convinced that I wasn’t going anywhere, so the meetings were extremely open and detailed. Barkley would love to have all this information.
At night—back in my padded cell—I processed all the data from the meeting. What the impact would be on the rest of the world. How many lives would be lost. It made it very difficult for me to distance myself from it all. I had promised myself that I would not be involved. That it was not my monkey. But it was getting more and more challenging to keep myself from caring.
Once again, the room was full of equally important looking men--his advisors. I had seen some of them earlier, but others were new. They all came to the cage to admire the new conquest. One even tried to poke me through the bars. What was I? Some kind of animal on show in a zoo? These men had warped ideas of how to treat women. They giggled and pointed and frankly acted like a band of adolescent boys in a football locker room.
The meeting progressed with the emperor once again basically telling the rest what would go down. They were making plans for a renewed offensive against the UK. There would be enormous amounts of Shiva dumped on the British Isles, with no charge for the first somewhat lighter version. Just to get the users addicted, then they would flood the country with the real deal, sit back and wait for the enemy to kill itself. I understood the Hindi. I was glad I’d followed the lessons, because there were already things in place that would need to be countered, even after I killed the emperor.
Barkley hadn’t mentioned what would happen to the country after I had assassinated its leader. I hadn’t asked. It was none of my business. I was here to do a job. That was all. But the things that were discussed in this meeting made me wonder. These men were all of the same calibre as the emperor. If he was gone, one of them could easily take over and continue the annihilation of the West, without even a hitch in the timetable. I guess I would have to get back to Barkley after all and warn him of what was coming. It was of course quite naive to expect that killing one person, even the Emperor, would solve the problem. A lot of mo
ney was made here, and there was no shortage of greedy men. It would not be that simple.
Even though I kept trying to convince myself it wasn’t my fight, I couldn’t just let all those people die as the result of Shiva. I’d seen the carnage in Easy and it was the innocents that I was worried about. They would be in the wrong place at the wrong time and it would cost them their life. I guess that did make it my business after all.
Barkley had made me commit the contact information to memory. I had one chance to contact him after the deed had been done. I decided to use that to warn him of the plans that were already at an advanced stage. He could determine how to counter them and I would get back to my search.
One of the visitors arrived late. Apologising profusely, he took a seat at the back of the room. Quite far from where I was sitting. He remained quiet during the meeting—inconspicuous—and I forgot about him.
Finally, after three hours, they dispersed. Only the latecomer and the emperor were left. They continued to talk. I got the impression that this man was more of a spiritual advisor. Bharata walked over to his desk and took one of the scrolls that were lying there. The advisor stood to join him.
I was bored. Sitting in my gilded cage, I needed to stretch my legs. I stood up and paced the small space. That caught the attention of the advisor, and he looked my way for the first time. He was not really impressed by the fact that there was a woman in a cage—probably not a unique occurrence here. He was quick to dismiss me until I happened to look him in the eye. He blanched. Almost staggered the step to a chair, to keep his balance. I could see the fright on his face. He was terrified. Of me.
The Beast Inside Page 6