Under normal circumstances, Neela Singh, the Royal Regent and mother of the Sultan of Bangalore, did not have to go searching for people. When she wanted to speak with someone, she simply summoned them, either to the main throne room or to her private office, and they appeared as commanded. Unfortunately, things were a long way from normal, and Neela was forced into searching the palace for Vijay Patel. She was seriously handicapped by two factors. The first was that she didn't dare allow anyone to realize that she was looking for him. If she were to go searching for Vijay openly, everyone in the palace . . . including her son's enemies . . . would know of it long before she ever managed to locate him.
The second factor was that once she did locate Vijay, she couldn't allow anyone to know the nature of their conversation. Neela couldn't be certain, but she felt it likely that if her phones were monitored, then all of the normal places that she frequented probably were as well. Video surveillance was improbable, but it would be a very quick and simple matter to place listening devices about the palace. As a protection to both of them, Neela had to be certain they were neither seen nor overheard, and that would be very difficult to achieve.
But first, she had to find the man. There wasn't a single room in the entire palace which could not be accessed through the myriad of clandestine passageways that honeycombed the old palace. She began her search with those locations where she thought Vijay would most likely be found . . . the various meeting rooms, the personal quarters that had been assigned to him, the office suite that he and his staff used, the main reception hall near the throne room, the dining center, and finally, even the antechamber of her own offices. She was unable to locate him in any of those places.
Next, she tried some of the less frequently visited places . . . the distant guest quarters that were used to house the poorer petitioners, the private offices of other Council members - though doing that made her extremely uneasy . . . she could almost feel the shades of Vikram and Deepak at her back - the women's quarters - although what he would be doing there - and the various inner courtyards, but she still had no success. Finally, she decided that she would simply be forced to return to Vijay's office and do something she had always sworn she would not do . . . eavesdrop. Unfortunately, by the time she made that decision, it was noon, and when she returned to his office, she found the entire staff had departed to get something to eat. It occurred to her that perhaps she could do the same . . . and by listening in on conversations in the dining center, she might determine where she could find Councilman Patel.
Unfortunately, by this time, she was utterly filthy. Taking the more commonly used passages was one thing, but many of the ones she had prowled that morning had not been used in years and the dust and grime were formidable. With as much haste as she dared, she returned through the passageways to her own quarters to wash up. As she changed clothes, she gave heartfelt thanks that she had taken up the habit of wearing nothing but white. No one would notice that she was not wearing the clothing that she had worn when she entered her office that morning.
Returning to her office, she unlocked the door and strode out determinedly. "I am going to get something to eat. I shall return."
Her staff looked at her in amazement. "B-b-b-but Excellency . . . there are people . . . they would be happy to bring something to you . . ."
Neela was momentarily flustered, but she recovered quickly. "I have been shut up all day, working on this report, and I need to get out of the office for a short time. I shall return after I have eaten."
"Yes, Excellency . . ."
As Neela walked away, she smiled to herself and sent heartfelt thanks out to her long dead husband. Many years ago, Haresh had given her the best advice she had ever received. "Always act as though you know exactly what you are doing, my wife, even if you do not. If you do so, no one will ever question your actions."
She left as quickly as she could, trying desperately to curb her anxiety. When she reached the dining area, she scanned the crowd, but there was no sign of Vijay Patel. She moved sedately through the crowds, stopping frequently to speak with various individuals and groups. Many looked surprised, but at least superficially, everyone appeared pleased to see her there. She did not miss the heightened sense of tension, however. Everyone was on edge. You could feel it in the too-bright chatter and the slightly shrill tones. There was also a marked lack of discussion of important topics. Virtually everything she overhead was social gossip or events totally unrelated to Bangalore. The old defense mechanism had snapped into place once again . . . allow no one to hear you discuss anything that might get back to the ear of the powerful and cause them to become displeased with you. Hadji had been right once again. She should have been down among these people on a daily basis, rather than remaining isolated in her lofty position of power. Now, she was an outsider . . . one of the ones to be feared. None of them were going to talk with her about anything of significance . . . at least not honestly.
"But surely Vijay can do something!"
The voice had been hushed, but its urgency caused it to carry to her over the buzz of conversation in the large room. Neela was standing at the edge of the room on the far side opposite the main door. It had taken her almost half an hour to work her way to this place, and in that time she had heard nothing that would indicate the location of the man she was searching for. Now, she faded back into one of the groupings of large plants that were scattered at intervals throughout the room. She was lucky that this particular one also screened an entrance back into the hidden passageways, and she faded into its dimness deftly, leaving the access cracked just enough for the speaker's words to filter through to her.
"He is trying," another man replied in the same tone. "But it is difficult. The Janissaries seem to be everywhere! He dares not move too openly for fear there will be reprisals."
"He is one of the Council," the first man objected, his voice rising slightly. "They would not dare move against him!"
"Keep your voice down!" the other hissed. "We will be overheard!" After a moment, the voice continued, and Neela had to strain to hear it. "They may not move openly against him, but he has small children. It is said that the Janissaries are back to their old tricks once more. They are stealing children to build their ranks. Many young boys have disappeared from the villages . . . particularly from Panjal province and the surrounding areas. It is not unreasonable for him to fear for their safety, particularly since he has three strong sons."
Panjal Province, Neela thought as her fear grew sharply. Rajeev Subramanian's home province. Birla is already there . . . set up and ready to move. I must find Vijay Patel NOW! Suddenly, her attention snapped back to the conversation again as she heard one of them say,
" . . . just returned. He had been out on the edge of the City talking with some of the merchants. I have a meeting scheduled with him later this afternoon . . ."
Pulling the access panel fully shut behind her, Neela turned and fled up the passageway, feeling her way in the darkness. She had no time! She had to find Vijay now, before it was too late.
It had been a frustrating morning and Vijay Patel was in a foul mood. He had left the Royal Palace early, hoping to reach some of the export merchants before they became deeply involved in business for the day. For some months . . . ever since the "rockslide" that destroyed the northern export routes . . . he had been quietly working to find a way to develop new paths for getting goods out of Bangalore. His campaign had two purposes . . . one was to find a cheaper alternative for getting goods out of both the city and the country, eliminating Birla's network and his exorbitant fees, and increasing the profit margin for the people who truly needed the money; and the other was to continue his subtle campaign to undermine Arun Birla's lock on what could enter or leave the country, which made up much of his power base.
It had been a wasted trip. Fear was running too high. Word had reached the city of the reappearance of the Janissaries in the countryside and no one was willing to even speak to him. He had spent most of the morning at it with absolutely no success. Now he was back in the palace, tired, irritable, very hungry, and facing a full afternoon of meetings that promised to be just as frustrating as the morning had been. He closed the door to his quarters and strode swiftly up the corridor, heading for the dining area. He would get something to eat, pick up what gossip he could, and then go to his office for his first meeting.
In an effort to avoid being delayed, Vijay cut through one of the inner courtyards and used the corridors that led past the throne room. With the Sultan out of the country, those rooms weren't used much and he knew that the passageways would be quiet. He was crossing the large waiting area just up the passage from the throne room when the Lady Neela seemed to materialize out of nowhere. He stopped sharply and began the requisite bow, but with three swift strides, she crossed to him, snatched at his arm and began dragging him toward a large wall hanging not far away.
"Excel . . ."
"Quiet!" she hissed sharply. "Follow me and don't ask questions. There is not much time . . ."
Looking around swiftly, she flicked the wall hanging aside and pushed sharply at the wall behind it. To Vijay's astonishment, a section of it gave way, and Neela drew him with her into the darkness.
"What . . . " he began, balking as the panel snapped closed behind him. His eyes were just beginning to adjust to the darkness when a flashlight flared to life, casting weird shadows on the walls.
"Not here," she whispered urgently. "These passageways run too close to frequently used corridors, and listening devices may pick up our conversation. Follow me and I will explain as soon as we reach a place of relative safety." She turned and swept off without another word. After a brief hesitation, Vijay followed her. She moved through the passageways quickly, seeming to know exactly where she was heading. Wider, relatively clean passages gradually gave way to narrow, grimy corridors that obviously had not been used in years. He quickly lost all sense of direction in the darkness and by the time she finally stopped, he had no idea where he was.
As Neela turned back to him once more, he drew himself up firmly and demanded, "What is going on, Excellency? What is this place? Where am I, and what do you want with me?" The words came out much more sharply than he intended, fed by the fear that had been growing ever since the secret door had closed behind him. He was not so young that he didn't remember the tales of people who used to mysteriously disappear from within the royal palace and were never seen again.
As though reading his mind, Neela smiled . . . but there was no humor in it. "No, Mr. Patel, I have not led you here so that you can disappear. Believe me when I say that I have had enough of that to last me five lifetimes. Rather, I have need of your services. The errand is urgent and there is no time to waste."
Vijay sketched a shallow bow. "I would be happy to serve, Excellency, but I do not believe it can be done today. I have appointments scheduled for the entire afternoon, and . . ."
"Do you wish to see Rajeev Subramanian as a prisoner, Mr. Patel?"
"WHAT?!" he exclaimed sharply. Forgetting proper behavior, he reached out and gripped her by the arms tightly. "What are you talking about?"
"Arun Birla moves against him. If he is not warned . . ." Vijay could feel the shudder that ran through her. "I do not wish to think of what might happen."
"Since when have you been concerned about Rajeev's welfare?" he demanded harshly.
Anger flared as she threw off his hands. "Have a care, Mr. Patel. I will grant you certain latitude because my son trusts you, but do not push me. As for Mr. Subramanian, I concern myself with him because his daughter will be my son's wife. Mr. Birla is going to take Kefira's family and hold them hostage, forcing her to return to this country. He knows that if she returns here, my son is sure to follow. This must not happen."
"I thought you agreed with Mr. Birla that the Sultan belongs here, " Vijay replied bitterly.
"I will not have my son end his days in the same way as his father!" she snapped. "I have no one else that I know I can trust. Time runs short already. Will you go or must I risk everything and try to find someone else whose loyalty I cannot rely on?"
Vijay stared at her, belief growing. "Have you attempted to telephone him . . . warn him . . ."
Neela shook her head sharply. "No! The phones in the palace are monitored." She smiled grimly at his expression. "Yes, I am certain. I have learned it the hard way . . . and it is what has precipitated this crisis. You must go . . . NOW . . . or it will be too late."
Vijay thought quickly. He had no choice but to trust her. He couldn't risk Rajeev's life on the gamble that she was setting him up for some elaborate trap. No matter how far apart the two of them had been on issues, he simply could not believe that Neela Singh would ever resort to something like that.
"Very well. I will go. But the men I am to meet with today are not ones that should be alienated. Messages must be sent to them giving them some excuse why I cannot meet with them." Vijay routed in his pockets quickly and came up with a small pad of paper and a pen. He jotted a hasty note on the pad, then pulled it off and handed it to her. "I have a young assistant named Mahavir. He is a nephew and can be trusted. Give this note to him and instruct him to write notes to the men I am to meet with this afternoon, canceling my meetings. He is good at imitating my handwriting and no one will question messages that come by his hand from me." Neela took the note and nodded quickly. "Where am I and how do I get out of here?"
"You are on the far north side of the palace, down near the old tradesmen's entrance. This passage will open into the corridor that leads to a back door. Many years ago, it was the main trade entrance out of the mountains, and was along the Pilgrim's trail. With the advent of trucks and motorized traffic, it has been largely shut down." She reached into her clothing and produced a ring with a set of keys. "This will open the back postern door. There is a path that runs along the outer wall of the palace. Several hundred feet to the right of the door you will see a grove of trees with a path that leads into them. That path will take you up into the mountains away from the palace and the city. This is the best I can do for you. I must leave it to you to find a way to get safely away from here."
Vijay nodded. "As long as I can get out of the palace unseen, I have my ways of getting away quickly." It was his turn to smile humorlessly. "I have been expecting an explosion for quite some time now, Excellency, and I have a family to be concerned with. I am not unprepared for hasty exits."
Approval gleamed in her eyes, as she replied, "My son chooses his allies well. Go quickly. I will see that this message gets delivered and I will do my best to slow the storm that is coming."
Vijay hesitated briefly. "Move with care, Excellency. Birla is a ruthless and unprincipled man who will stop at nothing to get what he wishes. The Sultan has lost enough years with you already. I do not believe he would be happy should something happen to you now."
Neela smiled. "I will remember." Stepping up to the wall quickly, she slid a small, eye-level panel aside and peered into the resulting slot carefully. Then, closing it, she reached down and flicked a latch, causing a crack to appear in the passageway wall. Pushing the door open, she stepped aside and said softly, "Go with God, Mr. Patel."
He nodded quickly and then was gone.
