The Far Pavilions - Mary Margaret Kaye [187]
Much of what he related could only have been apocryphal, and most of the rest was a hodge-podge of hearsay, speculation and scandal-mongering: the usual buzz of the bazaars, in which little credence could be placed. But here and there a nugget of useful information could be sifted from the spate of gossip, and these, put together, not only told Ash a good deal about the conditions that prevailed in the one-time state of Gulkote, but shed considerably more light on the temper and disposition of its present ruler. A score of anecdotes testified to his vanity and love of display, while many others hinted at a streak of cold-blooded and precocious cunning that had shown itself in childhood and grown with the years, and if even a fraction of the latter were true the picture that emerged was far from prepossessing.
Among the plethora of rumours, guess-work and gossip, two things stood out quite clearly: that Nandu could not endure to be defeated, and that he had very unpleasant ways of dealing with those who displeased him. An instance of this last was his treatment of a tame cheetah, one of a pair of hunting leopards that had been loosed after a buck on the plain below the Hawa Mahal, and which Nandu had backed with twenty gold mohurs to reach and pull down the quarry first. It had failed to do so and he had lost his money and his temper, and sending for a tin of kerosene oil, flung it over the wretched animal and set it alight.
This tale, unlike many others, was not based on hearsay, for a number of men in the camp had seen the cheetah burned alive. And though it had later been given out that its trainer had fled the state, few believed it. ‘They say that he too died that same night,’ said Mahdoo. ‘But as to that, there is no proof; and though it is certain that the man was never seen again, that is not to say he is dead. It may be that he feared for his life and ran away. Who knows?’
‘At a guess, the Maharajah,’ said Ash grimly.
Mahdoo nodded in agreement. ‘So it is believed. The Maharajah is young, but already he is greatly feared by his people. Yet it would be unwise to suppose that he is hated by all, for the people of Karidkote have never cared for weaklings, and many are pleased that their new ruler has shown himself both cunning and ruthless; taking this to be an assurance that they will not lose their independence and be swallowed up by the British, as other princely states have been. There are also many who admire him for those very qualities that make him the evil youth he is.’
‘And many others, I suspect,’ said Ash, ‘who hate him enough to plot against him, and hope to pull him down so that they may set another in his place.’
‘You mean the young prince?’ Mahdoo pursed his lips and looked sceptical. ‘Well, maybe. Yet if so, it is something I have not heard spoken of among the tents; and for myself, I do not think that in these times even the worst of the grumblers would desire to be ruled by a child.’
‘Ah, but they would not be. That is the point. They would be ruled by that child's advisers, and it is certain that those advisers would be the ones who plotted to place him on the throne. It would be they and not the boy who would rule Karidkote.’
‘Biju Ram,’ murmured Mahdoo, as though considering the name.
‘Why do you say that?’ inquired Ash sharply. ‘What have you heard about him?’
‘Nothing good. He is not liked, and I have heard him called many evil names: scorpion, snake, jackal, spy and pander, and a dozen more. He is said to have been a creature of the late Maharani's and there is a tale