Twisting the smaller slab was easier than expected, and gradually they created a sufficiently wide gap for them to grab the central slab and scrape it free. The gaping hole revealed the dizzying drop beneath.
'Maybe you're not a spy for Dhraji!' Kosala was gasping with effort.
They looked down on the iron cage that swung slowly back and forth. 'How do we get down there?' Bradan asked.
The cage was a good thirty feet below them, suspended by a single chain attached to the underside of the bridge by an arm-thick staple. As it rubbed against the staple, the chain creaked ominously, with fragments of rust falling every few seconds. Sitting cross-legged inside the cage, Machaendranathar looked up, his eyes quiet above a long beard. 'You don't get down,' he said. 'The other guards lower food and water by a rope. There is no other way.'
'How did you get in?' Bradan asked.
'They put me in when the cage was on the bridge,' Machaendranathar said. 'Twenty men and the rakshasa that pretends to be Dhraji lowered me down.' He sounded as calm as if he were sitting under a tree in the centre of a village.
'We're going to try and rescue you,' Kosala said.
'I know.' Machaendranathar did not move.
'Do they ever let you out?' Kosala asked.
'No. This is where I am.' Machaendranathar continued to sit cross-legged on the bars that made up the floor of his cage.
'Hello, man in the cage!'
Even Machaendranathar seemed surprised as the female voice interrupted them.
'Who said that?' Kosala spun around with his sword ready. There was nobody else on the bridge.
'I said that.' Melcorka climbed on top of the cage and sat there, smiling, as it swayed hundreds of feet above the ground.
'Mel! How did you get here?' Bradan stared at her.
'I climbed.' Melcorka sounded surprised at the question. 'How else could I get up? I can't fly like the birds. I climbed up the cliff and hand-walked along the underside of the bridge.'
Bradan looked down the vertical cliff with its meagre patches of vegetation and stretches of ice-smooth rock. He remembered that Melcorka had grown up on a small Hebridean island where much of the diet comprised birds' eggs retrieved from the cliffs. 'You have to be careful, Mel!' Bradan tried to still the hammering of his heart.
'It's fun,' Melcorka said and proved it by pushing with her feet, so the cage swung harder. 'Do you want out, man?'
'I do,' Machaendranathar said. 'And so do you, I believe. You want to be released from the cage that is trapping your mind.' He looked at Bradan. 'I see you know this young woman.'
'That is Melcorka from Alba.' Bradan made quick introductions. 'A witch or a demon cursed her to lose her strength and her mind.'
'I thought as much.' Machaendranathar remained calm.
'Where is the door to your cage?' Melcorka asked.
'There is no door,' Machaendranathar said. 'The whole bottom swings open. One day they will open it and allow me to drop.'
'If I open it, you will be free,' Melcorka said.
'If you open it, young woman, I will fall to the ground.'
'Not if I catch you,' Melcorka said.
'You haven't the strength,' Machaendranathar said.
'Bradan has.' Melcorka looked upward. 'Bradan carried me for miles.'
Bradan glanced at the fearful drop to the ground and looked away quickly. 'I can't come down there. I am dizzy even looking down.'
'Yes you can, silly.' Melcorka hung over the edge, balancing with one hand. 'See? It's safe unless you let go.'
'It has to be you, Bradan,' Kosala said. 'I am not built for climbing, and the woman doesn't have the strength. Hurry, before the garrison return.'
If he did not free Machaendranathar, Bradan reasoned, the nine Siddhars would never be together and the world could not be balanced, which meant that Melcorka would be cursed forever. He had to try.
Oh, dear God, give me strength.
Taking a deep breath, Bradan gathered his nerve and swung over the gap. Taking hold of the chain, he lowered himself cautiously down, one link at a time. The wind grabbed at him, pushing him this way and that until his feet made contact with the iron bars of the cage roof and he slowly released his breath. He felt sick. Don't look down. Don't let go. Think of Melcorka.
'I told you it was easy.' Melcorka leaned back, still holding on with one hand. Grinning, she changed hands. 'Now, you have to come down here so that when I open the bottom, the man doesn't fall out.'
Bradan nodded, breathing hard. 'You may be cursed, Mel, but you've kept some of your brains and all of your nerve.'
Machaendranathar grunted. 'A demon's curse should have reduced her to a baby, or worse. Something inside that woman is fighting back. She is right. You will have to help me.'
Oh Lord, give me strength and balance, Bradan prayed, as he inched to the end of the cage and slid his feet over the side. Melcorka grinned at him, flicked back her dark hair and rattled the cage.
'Come on, Bradan! It's easy!'
'I'm coming.' Bradan manoeuvred himself beside Melcorka, clinging to the lowest horizontal strut of the cage with his feet, while clinging to the vertical bars with both hands. He felt the drop sucking at him, inviting him to release his hold and fall down and down forever.
''You'll have to release one hand to help me,' Machaendranathar said.
This is worse than fighting the Kalingo.
'I can do that.' Bradan forced a death's-head grin as the immense drop beneath him appalled and fascinated him in turn. Gripping tightly with his right hand, he forced his left to open. 'All right, what's next?'
Grinning, Melcorka slipped free the simple bolt that secured the bottom of the cage and laughed when it crashed open. The sound echoed from the cliff walls, bouncing back and forth before it slowly decreased. The cage swung back and forth, forcing Bradan to cling on with both hands once more.
'Shiva! The garrison can't miss that racket,' Kosala said. 'Hurry, Bradan!'
Clinging to the sidebars of his cage, Machaendranathar moved toward Bradan. 'I may be an aesthete,' the Siddhar said, 'but I place too much value on this life to throw it away.' He extended a slender hand, which Bradan gripped.
'Out you come, man.' Melcorka ignored the terrifying abyss. 'Then we'll climb up the chain or down the cliff.'
Machaendranathar's hand tightened on Bradan's as he manoeuvred himself from the cage and slowly began to climb up the bars to the roof. Refusing to look down, Bradan licked dry lips and pushed from below until they reached the top of the cage. Large pieces of rust flaked from the chain, which creaked alarmingly under the increased weight.
Kosala's voice was strained. 'Hurry! I can hear people moving!' Drawing his sword, he glanced right and left along the interior of the bridge.
Melcorka swarmed up to the bridge without hesitation. 'Come on! It's easy.' She poked her head through the gap, grinning.
Pushing Machaendranathar in front, Bradan hauled himself up the rusty chain, swearing in a constant monotone that helped relieve his feelings, while not aiding his climbing ability in the slightest.
'Come on! Come on!' Kosala urged, leaning forward with his hand extended. 'Somebody's coming. Shiva! It's an archer! Shiva help us!'
The first arrow whined past Bradan's ears, clattered against the chain and ricocheted away. The second pinged between two links and stuck there, with the feathers of the flight vibrating. Blaspheming, Bradan shoved Machaendranathar up the final few inches, where Kosala hauled him up bodily as a third arrow bounced from the ceiling of the bridge.
'Come on, Bradan! Run!' Kosala unceremoniously pushed Machaendranathar in front as he raced along the bridge. Bradan pulled himself out of the hole, gasping for breath. The archer had dropped an arrow but half a dozen men were running toward him, swords raised and yelling loudly.
'Run! Run!' Melcorka had caught Kosala's agitation.
Lifting a spear from a rack on the wall, Bradan threw it toward the advancing Thiruzhas, turned and fled along the bridge. He he
ard the twang of a bow and ducked as an arrow hissed well past him.
'We're lucky that these are the Thiruzhas' worst warriors,'Kosala gasped. 'If the best ones had not pursued the Cholas, they'd have killed us long ago.'
With his legs still shaking, Bradan could only nod as they plunged through the door. He looked for a bolt to lock it, swore when he saw none and ran again, to see Kosala propelling Machaendranathar through a wooden door while Melcorka laughed.
'Men chasing us,' she said.
'Come on, Mel!' Scooping Melcorka up, Bradan nearly threw her in front of him. 'Run! They're bad men, Mel, run!'
'Bad men,' Melcorka repeated. 'They're bad men!'
Going down the stairs was even worse than coming up, with Machaendranathar stiff and slow after his months in the cage and Melcorka looking over her shoulder every few seconds. Bradan heard the door at the top of the stairs crash open, followed by the raised voices of their pursuers. A spear clattered down the steps. Picking it up, Bradan wedged it in a crack on the stonework with the tip pointing upward. With luck, that may slow his pursuers down a fraction. With great luck, one of the pursuers might run into it.
'Come on, Bradan!' Kosala roared.
'Bad men!' Melcorka reminded him.
An arrow whistled down, and another, but the nature of the circular staircase made such weapons virtually useless. The Thiruzha pursuers had to catch them. Bradan heard the unmistakable sound of a man falling and nearly smiled.
'Keep going,' Kosala ordered. 'It's not far now.'
Voices echoed behind them, hollow in the staircase. They ran, sliding on the worn steps, gasping for breath, swearing, keeping together. Melcorka began to giggle hysterically until Bradan reminded her that there were bad men behind them.
'Don't waste breath,' Kosala said. 'Run!'
After an interminable downstairs run, they barged open the final door and emerged into the pass, to be greeted by a volley of arrows from the fort and the bridge high above.
Kosala jumped back into the shelter of the overhang. 'Shiva! We're trapped!'
'We can't stay here.' Bradan held Melcorka close to him. 'They're close behind us. We must run.' Lifting a shield from one of the many dead Chola warriors that littered the pass, he passed it to Melcorka. 'Everybody, grab a shield.'
They did so, nervously, shaking with reaction, cursing as arrows hissed and bounced around them. Bradan took a deep breath. 'Hold the shield above your head, Mel, and when I say so, run. Run as if the devil himself was after you, and don't stop until you reach that tree there.' He indicated a taller than usual palm that marked the edge of the pass. 'Don't run straight, jink from side to side. Don't stop for anybody or anything. Do you understand?'
Melcorka nodded. 'Run and jink and don't stop.'
'On the count of three, we run out,' Bradan said. 'Don't keep together. A group is an easier target than an individual. Are you ready?'
Only after they nodded, one by one, did Bradan slowly count: 'One, two, three!'
They exploded from the overhang. Bradan had expected the arrows. He had forgotten about the other missiles and swore as a large rock smashed down a few yards from him, disintegrating in a mass of splinters. Something sliced into his thigh and he gasped, hopped and continued, fighting the pain.
'Run, Melcorka! For God's own sake, run!'
He heard Melcorka giggle, saw Kosala help Machaendranathar over a rough stretch of ground, and then he was at the trees with his left leg throbbing and the breath rasping in his throat. Melcorka was right beside him, holding her shield with both hands.
Chaturi was there to greet him. 'Hurry,' she said. 'The demon's army is returning!'
Chapter Eleven
'I can't run another step,' Bradan gasped.
'You'll have to,' Chaturi said. 'Now that we've freed Machaendranathar, the rakshasa Dhraji will never rest until she kills or captures him and us. We have to flee quickly.'
Two Singhalese produced a litter, placed Machaendranathar on it and trotted away in that ground-covering pace that made light of obstacles and distance. Banduka gave Bradan a wide grin and joined the others.
'We did well.' Kosala checked the edge of his sword. 'I wondered about you, Bradan.' He nodded. 'Maybe I was wrong.'
'Are you coming?' Bradan asked.
'I'll go last.'
'As you wish.' Bradan said and moved on. Melcorka ran at his side for the first few hundred yards before she staggered. Bradan caught her, wincing in pain.
'You're bleeding.' Chaturi glanced at Bradan's leg.
'It's nothing,' Bradan said.
'Perhaps. Don't let it slow you down.' Chaturi shouted for two of her men, who bundled Melcorka onto another makeshift litter and trotted on.
They pushed on along a winding forest track, with birds squawking around them and insects clouding at their faces. Monkeys watched curiously and once, a small herd of deer bounded in front of the column.
'Watch out for snakes,' Chaturi said. 'There are a lot around here.'
'Dhraji can call them up.' Machaendranathar spoke quietly from his litter. 'Where are you headed?'
'Anywhere,' Chaturi said. 'We're headed anywhere away from the Thiruzha.'
'Permit me to guide you,' Machaendranathar said. 'Open your minds. All of you – open your minds.'
'How do I do that?' Bradan asked, and felt the jolt as Machaendranathar entered his head. Unsure what to expect, he saw a map of the country spread out before him, with a clearly marked paththat led through the maze of forests to a narrow pass over the Ghats. The Chola Empire waited in the east.
'Follow the path,' Machaendranathar ordered. 'Don't think – let your mind guide you.'
The forest paths straightened as Bradan followed his feet, with the Singhalese moving without a sound. When Melcorka slipped clear of her litter and walked beside him, it seemed natural to hold her hand, although whether it was as a child or a woman, Bradan did not know. Nor did he know how long that journey lasted. It seemed natural to walk and keep walking as if in a dream, with one footstep following the next and the trees a blur around him and Melcorka at his side. Time did not matter; weariness was accepted; the pain in his thigh was as much a part of his life as the clouding of insects and the green-hazed light though which they passed.
The forest path rose beneath them as they weaved through the foothills of the Ghats, but this time, the pass was too narrow and steep for any army, and there was no fort to avoid. Birds of prey screamed and circled overhead and twice, Bradan saw that shapeless black-and-white mass hovering between him and Melcorka before dissolving into nothingness.
The pass rose higher until it seemed they could touch the sky, levelled out and descended in a dizzying zig-zag towards a vast forested plain, smeared with the smoke from a hundred village fires.
Welcome to the Chola Empire. The words came to Bradan's mind. With his invisible guide in control of his feet, he had no need to worry about direction or time. Step, step, and keep walking until they saw the mystical mountain.
Sathuragiri. Again, the word formed itself as everybody stopped to stare ahead. The mystical mountain rose four-square from a bed of mist, with waterfalls and clear streams easing down its flanks. Sathuragiri: the name eased itself across Bradan's mind, like balm soothing his worries. When he pulled Melcorka closer, she came willingly.
'We can rest here, safe from Dhraji,' Machaendranathar said.
An aura of peace descended on Bradan as Machaendranathar led them to a small temple set beside a bubbling spring. Birds called all around, and monkeys chattered and played without any fear, watching these newcomers through inquisitive eyes.
'We will eat.' Machaendranathar clapped his hands.
Bradan did not see where the food appeared from. He only knew it was delicious and that he was hungry. He ate with relish, wondering at this new sensation of total tranquillity.
'This place is holy,' Bradan said.
'It has been holy in the past, it will be holy again in the future,' Machaendranathar said.
'At present, it is incomplete. The rakshasas have damaged us.'
'It is a place of great wisdom and knowledge.' Bradan crouched to touch the ground. 'I have been searching for knowledge all my life, wandering the byways and highways to glean scraps of information here and there. Once, when I was at the temple of Callanish in Alba, I imagined that I grasped everything, as the knowledge of the Druids and the wisdom of the Greeks combined within me, but alas, it was fleeting and temporary.' He smiled. 'My mind could not hold on to so much learning.'
Machaendranathar's smile was as much sympathetic as understanding. 'Wisdom is like that,' he said. 'It cannot be retained without great effort, a build-up of knowledge and experience that takes years to obtain. One must meditate and add layer upon thin layer, learn about oneself through inward contemplation, as well as finding knowledge by observing people and events.'
'It is hard to maintain such concentration,' Bradan said. 'Our old Druids spent many years amassing knowledge before they could be priests and alas, they did not write their knowledge done. Much of it, most of it, is gone now. We only have fragments of what they knew. As I said, I glimpsed it once, and the power was too much.'
'You are young,' Machaendranathar said. 'It takes a lifetime to gain wisdom, as your Druids knew. Their loss is the world's loss.'
Other men appeared, to sit in a circle beside Bradan and Machaendranathar. Bradan did not know them; nor did he not recognise where he was. The newcomers had the same intense eyes as Machaendranathar, where profound wisdom merged with worldly compassion.
'Carry on.' The circle of men spoke in unison, although not one of them opened his mouth.
'Are you the Siddhars?' Bradan knew he had no need to ask the question. They answered without speaking, probing him for his knowledge and sharing such of theirs as could benefit him.
'In Alba, we have Celtic Christian priests,' Bradan said. 'They meditate to become closer to God. We can find them on desolate islands… barren, bleak, wave-lashed places where no man or woman could live without intense spirituality and a disregard for bodily comforts.'
Bradan knew that the Siddhars understood. The Celtic priests and the Siddhars were engaged on a similar spiritual journey, each embarking on a search for truth and enlightenment in the way their particular culture and religion guided them.
Melcorka Of Alba Page 16
