Victory City(49)

“I will live,” Haleya Kote said, “and I will come back to you. I promise you that.”

“No,” Yotshna wept. “She will find a way to kill you. I know she will. I’ll never see you again.” And with that she fled weeping into the depths of the forest.

Pampa Kampana shook her head in sorrow, and then gathered herself. “Let’s go,” she said to Haleya Kote. “There’s work to be done.”



* * *



—

Pampa Kampana returned to Bisnaga wrapped in an all-covering blanket, crawling through the secret tunnel of the Remonstrance and being guided by Haleya Kote to a safe house, the home of a widowed astrologer calling herself Madhuri Devi, a small matronly lady of about forty, who willingly agreed to shelter her. (When Haleya Kote told Madhuri Devi the name of her new guest, the astrologer’s eyes widened in disbelief, but she asked no questions and welcomed Pampa Kampana into her home.) As it happened this was a time of much upheaval in both the capital of the empire and also in the citadel of its rival, Zafarabad, so nobody was thinking about the former twice-queen, and the memories of the old folks who remembered her or had heard her spoken of were fading, too. What occupied everyone’s minds was the turbulence in the ruling dynasty, and among the rulers of Zafarabad as well. Hukka Raya II had died suddenly, and so, across the empire’s northern border, had Sultan Zafar II, both Number Twos departing almost simultaneously. Fierce battles for power broke out in both kingdoms.

Zafar II did not die peacefully in his sleep like Hukka Raya II. His uncle Daud, accompanied by three other assassins, rushed into his bedchamber and stabbed him to death. One month later, the assassin was assassinated himself, while at prayer in the Friday Mosque of Zafarabad. Another noble, Mahmood, took the throne, after blinding Daud’s eight-year-old son to end any arguments about the succession. All Zafarabad was in a condition of chaos and dismay.

Meanwhile in Bisnaga, things were not much better. Hukka Raya II had three sons, Virupaksha (named after the god who was the local incarnation of Lord Shiva), Bukka (yes, another Bukka), and Deva (named, simply, God). Virupaksha took the throne, and in a few short months lost much territory, including the port of Goa, and was then murdered by his sons. These sons were dealt with in their turn by Virupaksha’s brother Bukka, who then became Bukka Raya II, and didn’t last long either, being killed and succeeded by the third brother, Deva, who believed that, as the actual, so-named incarnation of the godhead, he possessed a divine right to the throne. (He would bring an end to the cycle of dynastic murders and rule for forty years.)

During the years of turmoil a second Portuguese horse-trader, Fern?o Paes, arrived in Bisnaga, and was sensible enough to keep his head down and do no more than sell his horses and prepare to leave at a moment’s notice. But business was good, and he became a frequent visitor. He kept a journal, and in it he described the murderous Virupaksha and Bukka II as being “only interested in getting drunk and fucking, usually in that order.” Deva Raya would have gone down the same weak-minded road but he was the most easily influenced of all of them, and so, as will be seen, his story would be different, which was why he managed to stay alive and die unremarkably, of old age.

“The world’s turned upside down,” thought Pampa Kampana. “It’s up to me to turn it the right way up again.”



* * *



—

Even though much time had passed, and the new king Deva Raya thought of Pampa Kampana’s escape as an old, long-concluded story, there was still the DAS, and somewhere there was still ancient Vidyasagar, and it was necessary to be careful. There was an alcove in Pampa’s bedroom and Madhuri Devi insisted that during daylight hours her guest should position herself inside it, and then Madhuri would push a wooden almirah in front of it to hide her. At night she would move the almirah back so that Pampa Kampana could come out. As an extra precaution, Madhuri would buy provisions in two places, the main bazaar which she regularly used, and where she was well-known, and also a second, smaller market in a distant corner of the city, where nobody knew who she was; so that people did not have reason to wonder why she was buying more food than one person needed, and so begin to suspect that she might be shopping for two. Pampa Kampana understood that her host was a seasoned and professional underground operative and did not question her rules. In her hidden alcove she adopted the lotus position through the long hot daylight hours, closed her eyes, and allowed her spirit to travel through Bisnaga as it had in the early days of her whispering, to listen to the thoughts of the citizenry, and to eavesdrop on the machinations of the kings. For a long time she did not begin to whisper. She listened, and waited.

It was not yet time to make her move. She did not seek out Vidyasagar because if she entered his thoughts the wizened centenarian would certainly become aware of her intrusive presence nearby, and after that he would have the city turned upside down to find her, and her secret hideout would not remain secret very long. She saw him only in his effects, in the survival and strength of his brother Sayana, very old himself by this time but still immensely powerful, and, in Madhuri Devi’s opinion, the dark unseen hand behind all the killings. “His purpose all along has been to get Deva onto the throne,” she told Pampa Kampana, “because Deva’s vanity and god-complex makes him susceptible to outrageous flattery, and therefore he’s the easiest of all the contenders to control.” And if that had been Sayana’s plan, then it was really Vidyasagar’s plan, and Deva Raya was the old man’s pawn.