Alone, with a torch in his shaking hand, Umballa went down into the prison, to the row of dungeons. In the door of one was a sliding panel. He pulled this back and peered within. Something lay huddled in a corner. He drew the panel back into its place, climbed the worn steps, extinguished the torch and proceeded to his own home, a gift of his former master, standing just outside the royal confines. Once there, he had slaves anoint his bruised back and shoulders with unguents, ordered his peg, drank it and lay down to sleep.
On the morrow he was somewhat daunted upon meeting Ramabai in the corridor leading to the throne room, where Winnie and the council were gathered. He started to summon the guards, but the impassive face of his enemy and the menacing hand stayed the call.
"You are a brave man, Ramabai, to enter the lion's den in this fashion. You shall never leave here alive."
"Yes, Durga Ram. I shall depart as I came, a free man."
"You talk like that to me?" furiously.
"Even so. Shall I go out on the balcony and declare that I know what a certain dungeon holds?"
Umballa's fury vanished, and sweat oozed from his palms.
"You?"
"Yes, I know. A truce! The people are muttering and murmuring against you because they were forbidden to attend your especial juggernaut. Best for both of us that they be quieted and amused."
"Ramabai, you shall never wear the crown."