The Far Pavilions - Mary Margaret Kaye [103]
‘My son Zarin sent a message from Delhi to tell his brother that all was well and that you had not become a stranger to us. Therefore I came over the Border to welcome you back,’ said Koda Dad, taking a long pull at the hookah.
‘And what if he had sent word that I had become altogether a Sahib?’ inquired Ash, accepting a chuppatti heaped with pilau and falling to with a good appetite.
‘Then I should not have come, since there would have been nothing that needed saying. But now there are things that must be said.’
There was that in his voice that made Ash say sharply: ‘What things? Is it bad news? Are you in trouble?’
‘No, no. It is only that Zarin and Ala Yar both say that you are still in many ways the Ashok of Gulkote days; which is good news. But –’ The old man paused to glance at his sons, who nodded as though in agreement with a spoken question, and Ash looked from Koda Dad to Zarin and from Zarin to Awal Shah, and seeing the same expression on all three faces, said abruptly ‘What is it?’
‘Nothing that need disturb you,’ said Koda Dad tranquilly. ‘It is only that here in Mardan, or wheresoever the Guides are sent, you and my son can no longer be the Zarin and Ashok of the old days, for it would not be fitting that a daffadar and an Angrezi officer should behave as blood-brothers. It would cause too much talk. And also – who knows? – the fear of favouritism among the men; there being Pathans of many different clans in the Guides, and also many men of different faiths, such as Sikhs and Hindus, all. of them equal in the sight of their officers, which is just and right. Therefore only when you and Zarin are alone, or on leave, can you be yourselves as once you were; but not here or now, in the presence of the Regiment. Is it understood?’
The last three words were spoken quite softly, but they were less a question than a command, and the tone was a reminder of the old days when a Master of Horse had befriended a lonely little boy in the service of a spoilt princeling, cuffing him when he needed it, consoling him in his misfortunes, and treating him in all ways as a son. Ash recognized it and reacted to it in the same spirit, though with reluctance. It seemed absurd to him that he should not be able to treat Zarin as a friend and brother without giving rise to criticism. But then he found a great many things that his elders and betters did absurd, and had seldom found any profit in arguing with them. In the circumstances Koda Dad's advice was probably sound and must be accepted, so he said slowly: ‘It is understood. But…’
‘There are no buts,’ interrupted Awal Shah sharply. ‘My father and I have discussed this between us, and we are agreed. Zarin also. The past is the past, and it is best that it should be forgotten. The Hindu boy from Gulkote is dead and in his place is a Sahib – an officer-Sahib of the Guides. You cannot alter that; or try to be two people in one skin.’
‘I am that already,’ said Ash wryly. ‘Your brother helped to make me so when he told me that it would be best for me to go to Belait to the care of my father's people, and to learn to become a Sahib. Well, I have learned. Yet I am still Ashok, and I cannot alter that either, for having been a child of this land for eleven years I am tied to it by something as strong as the tie of blood, and shall always be two people in one skin – which is not a comfortable thing to be.’
His voice held a sudden note of bitterness and Koda Dad laid a consoling hand on his shoulder and said gently: ‘That I understand. But you will find it easier if you keep the two separate and do not try to be both at one time. And some day – who knows? – you may discover in yourself a third person who is neither Ashok nor Pelham-Sahib, but someone whole and complete: yourself. Now let us talk of other things. Give me the hookah.’
Awal Shah pushed the pipe towards him, and the familiar bubbling purr and the scent of country-grown tobacco took Ash back to long-ago evenings in Koda Dad's quarters in the Palace of the Winds. But as the pipe circulated it was not of