In Search of Spice, page 48
“Stop!” Bai Ju cried as she shot forward to stand in front of her warriors, her back to the fat man and his guards. “Return to your duty. See, the boy is with his mother. You are guards, not avengers.”
To Sara’s astonishment, Bai Ju was obeyed instantly, the girls returning to their places where they watched the boy carried away by an older woman, also crying. Except Hinatea, whose eyes never left the fat man. She was the only one to hear Bai Ju’s final words, “For now.”
Pat smiled at the bird under the fruit tree with incredulity. The colours! It was scarlet, with greens and blues and a virulent orange, hooked beak that it used to rip up a slice of papaya. It sat on a perch with a chain on its leg. Mara and Wiwik beside him were not interested in the bird, but carefully flexing their muscles and stretching for the benefit of the palace girls watching them through a screen. Rat was apparently asleep in the sun, but Pat knew he was watching the guards through his lashes. They were outside the entrance to the Palace reception rooms, where they had been left on refusing to relinquish their weapons. Sara was inside, with Suzanne and the new interpreter. Bai Ju was with her with four Pahippian girls led by Hinatea as guards.
Even so, Pat had a prickle down his spine. Something was wrong. He knew the others felt it and caressed his bow lovingly as he watched the parrot, feeling the oiled wood and the soul of his bow. He kept an eye on Silmatea, who was in position in the doorway where she could relay any messages. He could see her flexing slightly, and knew she was keeping the Kalikut guards attention on herself.
A meeting had been arranged for today to discuss trade and mutual military assistance, the latter somewhat to Sara’s surprise. She was meeting with the Varakkal Paranamb. Mimi explained that this was the trade minister.
They waited for them in an airy room, seated on cushions around a low table. The walls of the room were intricate carvings, enabling spies to report their every move.
Suzanne and Sara sat at a table, while Mimi sat at one end of the table to interpret. At the opposite end sat a scribe, also an interpreter, to record the conversation. He stared into space, absently caressing his chest, oblivious of the girls. Sung Bai Ju, in her war costume of doll-like silks and white painted face, placed a Pahippian girl, Trieste, behind Suzanne and Hinatea behind Sara. The Pahippians wore the harness devised by Bai Ju made of leather, which covered them fairly well and was modest, while leaving sufficient areas of bare skin to make them feel comfortable. They had no apparent weapons. Silmatea guarded the doorway, while Bai Ju and Rerata stood half way between, merging into the shadows. There were ten Kalikut guards in the room, smartly dressed in exaggerated puffy orange trousers and blue shirts, while clasping spears that towered above themselves. After half an hour their level of alertness had dropped right down, all looking at Silmatea who was the only girl moving, slowly going through exercises where she tensed muscles one after the other. This created an illusion of dance which gradually mesmerised the guards. Bai Ju watched from behind her fan
For the first fifteen minutes, the girls kept up a desultory conversation, steering clear of meeting subjects. Suspecting they would be kept waiting for some time, Sara decided to speed things up. She flowed into the graceful cross-legged position Takeo taught her, resting her hands on her knees, turned up with thumbs on the second finger. Suzanne followed suit, they turned their eyes up and went into meditative trance. Mimi stared at them. This was only her second day, and while she liked her new masters, she found them a continual mystery.
A slight scuffling noise behind the carved screen wall suggested somebody wanted a better view and Bai Ju and the Pahippian girls, with their trained hearing, heard the footsteps moving rapidly away.
In less than ten minutes a gentle slapping of slippers announced the arrival of a man, a gentle man with greying hair, thin at the top who peered at them over his uncertain smile.
“Good morning, I am Ranjit Pirloo and I have the honour of being the Varakkal Paranamb for Kalikut,” he spoke excellent Belada. “Please stay seated, it is my honour to meet such exalted personages.” He slipped into a seat opposite Captain Larroche and peered at them, intelligent eyes taking them in quickly. “I believe from your demeanour that you do not share the customs of the Mappila and would be happy to conduct business from the start? Yes? Excellent! I regret I am a busy man and much as I enjoy your company, I need to conclude the business rapidly. However my colleage the Kunjali Marakar wishes to speak with you after this meeting if you would be so kind.”
Sara inclined her head and listened while the Varakkal and his assistants dived into a technical discussion with Captain Larroche and Brian, with Suzanne contributing. She struggled to follow it, but berated herself for finding it boring, reminding herself that trade was the true route to power, providing the wealth for the armies to keep her and Harrhein safe. She tried to pick out the highlights, determined to test herself later with the Captain. It was definitely spices that held his interest, though cloth also made a brave show. She noted that Captain Larroche concentrated on the volume of trade, establishing the rarity of each spice rather than the value and use.
A younger man, tall with the piercing eye of a hawk strode into the room, accompanied by four eager young officers, barking something in the local language.
“This is the Kunjali Marakar of Kalikut,” introduced the Varakkal. “He asks to speak to you on maritime warfare.”
“The Kunjali Marakar is the Admiral of Kalikut,” whispered Mimi.
The Kunjali ignored Captain Larroche, instead concentrating on Sara. He made a short bow towards her, then made a snapping gesture with his right arm, first to the front and then across his chest. Sara rose, nodded to him and returned a crisp salute.
“Delighted to see I am correct,” he said in accented Belada. “I recognised you as a warrior princess, Highness. Do you fight ships, or just on land?”
“We employ a fleet to protect us from invaders, Kanjali,” said Sara, mangling the title.
“Excellent,” he replied. “Please, continue to talk shopping, I shall discuss your protection with the Crown Princess.” He sat down opposite her as she returned to her seat, his officers arrayed behind him, listening with eager anticipation.
It transpired that Kalikut was, if not at war, not at all happy with Havant, and in the process of building a fleet. The Kunjali Marakar was interested by the Queen Rose and fascinated by Sara’s recollections of naval warfare.
A noise came from the door behind the Kalikut ministers, which opened with two more guardsmen coming through and standing to attention. Sara sensed Hinatea tense as a sweaty, overweight man with cruel eyes walked in, their friend from the previous night.
The Varakkal Paranamb and the Kunjali Marakar climbed to their feet and nodded to him, the latter with hooded eyes. The Varakkal Paranamb spoke to Sara.
“This is the Eralppad, who will be our next Saamoothiri,” translated Mimi.
“Please tell the Eralppad that it is our pleasure to meet him, and we look forward to our great countries working together over the coming years.”
“The Eralppad says that when the Havant come, they speak many words about how wonderful is the Eralppad, the Saamoothiri and Kalikut. He says that your shortness is rude. And that you should bow down before him.” Mimi sounded nervous.
Sara looked the Eralppad straight in the eye, and said, “We are not hypocrites. And remind him that I am the Crown Princess of Harrhein, so of equal rank.”
“He, he says he has never heard of Harrhein,” whispered Mimi, now plainly scared.
Sara laughed, which lowered the tension slightly. “And I had never heard of Kalikut until I came to Kochin.”
The Eralppad turned his attention to Suzanne, who was resplendent in her silk uniform, her yellow hair cascading down the back and her form artfully exaggerated, something she regretted deeply as his eyes dropped. He snapped out an order, which caused Mimi to scream and half a dozen more soldiers marched into the room.
“He told them to take her,” cried Mimi, scuttling out of her chair and moving away from the table.
The Varakkal Paranamb and the Kunjali Marakar jumped to their feet, shouting in anger, clearly protesting while their guards dropped their spears to the ready position.
Hinatea and Monata eased to their feet and casually reached over their shoulders, grabbed their leathers and pulled. The leathers fell apart, leaving the girls topless, holding wicked looking multi-lashed whips with metal tips, which they flicked dangerously as they slipped round the table, smiling.
Sara and Suzanne pushed back their chairs and rose to their feet, Sara’s rapier in her hand while Suzanne caught the quarterstaff thrown to her by Silmatea. The door behind the Eralppad slammed shut and Rerata pushed a spear through the handles while a soldier whimpered in agony at her feet, blood pumping from his arm where she had relieved him of the weapon.
Bai Ju drifted up to the nearest of the Eralppad’s soldiers, the leader with his spear levelled at Hinatea. His eyes drifted to the little girl for a moment before snapping back to the dangerous looking Amazon in front of him. Bai Ju sighed deeply and fluttered her fan. She stepped forward and sliced with the fan, the razor sharp tip slicing neatly through the soldier’s carotid artery. She retreated with grace as the blood fountained out, and the soldier slowly slumped to the floor, a look of astonishment on his face. The next soldier cried and tried to turn his long spear towards Bai Ju, whose retreat had taken her inside his spear which she grasped with her left hand while the right snapped the fan shut and propelled it into his Adam’s apple. He dropped his spear and fell writhing to the floor, blood pouring from his mouth and choking his screams.
Hinatea’s whip snapped at the remaining five soldiers, flaying the skin from the spear hand of the nearest. He jerked his hand back, blood dripping down, just managing to keep hold of the weapon. The rearmost soldier brought back his arm to throw his spear, and Bai Ju’s arm flicked, a shuriken sliding into his throat in a welter of blood. Rerata flayed the shirt and skin from the side of the next soldier, having come round the table, and this one did drop his spear.
The other soldiers backed away uncertainly, not having bargained for this. They were there to help their prince take a foreign woman to bed, not to fight hellcats who appeared out of thin air. One of them moved towards Bai Ju and stopped as a monstrous arrow thrummed into the floor in front of him, vibrating. Pat had arrived in the other doorway.
The Eralppad hadn’t moved, except for his jaw to drop open.
“Tell him he didn’t bring enough soldiers,” instructed Sara, “and that it is rude to try and rape diplomats.”
Mimi repeated this, her voice wavering and the Kunjali Marakar’s eyes gleamed in his grim visage. The Eralppad didn’t move. The Kunjali spoke to him heavily, and Mimi whispered a translation in Sara’s ear.
“He told him to shut up while he tries to keep him alive and stop the situation getting worse. He also congratulated him on destroying an advantageous treaty.”
The Kunjali spoke directly to Sara and Mimi translated.
“I will escort you personally to your ship. And see that you are able to depart on the tide. I am sorry for the collapse of our negotiations, and respectfully request that you spare the Eralppad’s life.”
One of the soldiers moved and Hinatea’s whip lashed, cutting through his shirt and drawing blood, while some strands coiled around the spear and she pulled it from his unresisting fingers as the metal end caps sliced into his hand. There was complete silence as he crumpled to the floor, shocked eyes on Hinatea, who smiled as she looped the whip around her neck and slowly pulled, drawing the lashes up her chest, leaving his blood streaked on her breasts. She took a step towards the Eralppad and slowly pulled her whip hand back, ready to strike. The soldiers stared, transfixed by the barbaric scene while Hinatea spoke slowly in her halting Belada.
“May I skin him for you, Great Princess, Power of Storm, Goddess of Death, Caller of Waves? Very rude man. He poison little children.”
It was plain that the Eralppad actually spoke Belada, enough to understand, for he was bowing to Sara and gabbling an apology. Somehow, Hinatea’s beauty made her even more terrifying.
“Wait please, Hinatea. Kunjali Marakar, I too am sorry for this outcome. I would have enjoyed sailing with you and defeating your enemies. Will we be able to reach our ship if we leave him here alive?”
The Kunjali’s eyes twinkled again at this pretty diplomacy, giving him his own prince’s life. His own honesty forced his answer. “Perhaps we could take him with us? We would need to take an escort of his soldiers.”
“I walk beside him,” announced Hinatea. “He does what I say, true, yes, darling?” She smiled at the Eralppad who was transfixed by her smile, like a rat with a cobra, and nodded mutely. She walked round the back of him, he hunched and then she took his right arm in an iron grip. Sara thought his legs would give way, but he managed to stay shakily erect.
“I think perhaps my soldiers should go first, followed by your guards, then Suzanne and myself with the Varakkal Paranamb and yourself, followed by Hinatea and the Eralppad with his soldiers behind them and Sung Bai Ju will bring up the rear with the other girls.”
The Varakkal started to object, but realised he didn’t have much choice. Hinatea used her whip to pull the Eralppad’s face around to meet her eyes. “Tell soldier what do,” she breathed and he whimpered, then shouted hoarsely at his soldiers. They gathered themselves together, including the ones with bleeding arms while Hinatea threw the spear back to the one she had whipped. He dropped it.
“Pat,” called Sara, “lead out, slowly at first, till we get organised, then standard pace. Back to the ship. Leave the bodies.”
As they moved out, the Kunjali questioned Sara about her military, while a bewildered Mimi continued to translate.
“I knew you understood tactics, but the way you hold your sword, the one we thought was ceremonial, just for show, indicates you can use it.”
“The female of the species is much more deadly, didn’t you know?” Sara smiled.
“I will never underestimate female soldiers again. There are none in Hind, I did take yours for servants and wondered why you needed so many.” He paused, his eyes sorrowful. “You realise that we cannot be friends? It will be hard for me to keep my own position, having seen him humiliated.”
“You kept him alive. Remind him of that and you should be fine. Tell him how you were humiliated as well, forced to walk to the ship with me. He is fine, he made that girl take her top off to entertain him. That’s what people will think. You complain first.”
The Kunjali’s eyes twinkled again. “How do I defeat the Havant at sea, when they have ships like yours?”
“Sail with us up the coast, we will leave you at the next port, and we can discuss this. But I think we leave your prince behind. We will tell him we keep you as hostage.”
Vijaya
Pat lounged in the crow’s nest, naked. His body was baked brown by the sun, while Bai Ju’s body was still a creamy white where she lolled under a canvas awning. They were invisible from below, with all the billowing sails interrupting the sight lines. She had a contented little smile on her face and admired her lover through half closed eyes. Pat was looking at the shoreline, dark on the horizon, humped and uneven like the back of a dragon.
“Good to see mountains again,” he mused.
“Those dreary baked fields,” agreed Bai Ju. “You would love my mountains, high, cool and green, jagged and untamed. I would climb high to talk to the vultures, and not another person for days.”
“I don’t think these are so high, but they are green. I did not like Kalikut.”
“Horrible.” Bai Ju shuddered. “And that Eralppad, I wanted to kill him for the way he undressed Suzanne with his eyes. So easy, a little shuriken, a tiny one, and they would think he took sick from a mosquito.”
“Untrustworthy bugger,” agreed Pat. “The Kunjali was an interesting man though. I think he liked the idea of archers on ships. Bit too fond of Hinatea.”
“Maybe, but his ships are too small. They will need to swarm over the Havant.”
“There is a headland and some islands in sight.” Pat pointed with his chin. “Do you think that is Kadwad?”
“Probably. Tell them.”
Pat leaned over the side of the crow’s nest and called out. “Headland and islands fine off the starboard bow.”
He heard movement on the deck, turned and relaxed. The Queen Rose sailed on under full sail, the sun beating down brutally on to the sparkling sea. As they neared the headland, Pat breathed out slowly.
“Look honey, the beach. Beautiful.” The mountain fell in a sheer rocky drop to a froth of greenery with a sparkling white beach in front, another froth of waves breaking at the bottom.
Bai Ju snaked out from the canvas and slid up beside him. “Aiee! It even looks clean! We haven’t seen a village for many a league, so should be safe to swim here. I can’t wait.”
“Brilliant, there is surf. Hinatea will teach you alaia. So much fun. First chance for you to see her perform.”
Taufik conned the ship past the outermost island and turned her due east into a wide bay, then north to the top of the bay where a wide river emptied. Confident, he turned her into the river, the crew having stripped her to a minimum of sails but the tack taking her perfectly up the centre of the river. Once through the entrance, the river widened considerably, giving them more sailing room, and a village was visible on the south bank, with many jetties and small fishing boats tied up. A mile upstream, and the Queen Rose came to a majestic halt off the entrance to a wide body of water, an inland lake to the south of the mountain.
