The Far Pavilions - Mary Margaret Kaye [188]
‘What tale?’ demanded Ash.
Mahdoo shrugged his shoulders by way of reply and sucked at his pipe, brooding like an elderly parrot while the hookah bubbled gently in the silence. He refused to say anything more on the subject. But when Gul Baz came in to settle Ash for the night and he rose to take his leave, he returned to it briefly:
‘Touching the matter we were discussing, I will make inquiry,’ said Mahdoo, and went away to gather his nightly quota of gossip from around the camp fires that flickered in the darkness.
But the tittle-tattle of the camp produced nothing new, and Ash realized that if there was any more to be learned it must come from some other source, preferably from one of Nandu's immediate family – the Rajkumari Anjuli for choice. Juli was only a few months older than Nandu, and being the nearest to him in age must surely know more about him and be a better judge of his nature than anyone else in the camp. She had also known Biju Ram for many years, and she would not have forgotten Lalji…
‘If only I could talk to her,’ thought Ash for perhaps the twentieth time. ‘Juli will know. I must manage it somehow… it can't be impossible. As soon as I can get on my feet again –’
But he did not have to wait as long as that.
19
‘My sister Shushila,’ announced Jhoti, presenting himself at Captain Pelham-Martyn's tent some two days later, ‘says she wishes to see you.’
‘Does she?’ inquired Ash without much interest. ‘What about?’
‘Oh, just to talk, I think,’ said Jhoti airily. ‘She wanted to come with me to visit you, but my uncle said she must not: he does not think it would be proper. But he said that he would speak to Gobind, and if Gobind agreed, he did not see why you should not be carried across to the durbar tent this afternoon, where we can all eat and talk together.’
Ash's gaze ceased to wander and he was suddenly alert. ‘Has Gobind agreed?’
‘Oh, yes. He said you could be carried across in a dhooli. I told my sister that I did not think you would wish to go, because girls only giggle and chatter like a lot of parrots and never seem to have anything sensible to talk about. But she says that it is your talk she wishes to hear. My uncle says that this is because she is bored and afraid, and the things you speak of, being strange to her, cheer her up and make her laugh, so that she forgets her fears. Shu-shu has no courage at all: not one grain. She is even frightened of mice.’
‘And your other sister?’
‘Oh, Kairi is different. But then she is quite old, you know; and besides, her mother was a feringhi. She is strong too, and taller than my brother Nandu – a whole two inches taller. Nandu says she should have been a man, and I wish she had been; then she would have been Maharajah instead of him. Kairi would never have tried to stop me going to the wedding like my brother did – fat, spiteful bully that he is.’
Ash would have liked nothing better than to talk of Kairi-Bai, but he had no intention of allowing Jhoti to make uncomplimentary remarks about the Maharajah in his presence, particularly when there were at least two of the boy's attendants within call, not to mention several of his own. He therefore turned the conversation into less dangerous channels and spent the rest of the morning answering endless questions on the subject of cricket and football and similar pastimes of the Angrezi-log, until Biju Ram came to fetch Jhoti away for the mid-day meal.
Biju Ram had not stayed long, but to Ash even those few minutes had seemed interminable. It was all very well to come under that sly, hostile scrutiny by lamplight and in a crowded tent – and when one was wearing mess dress and presumably looking very much a foreigner and a Sahib. But it was quite a different matter to endure it in broad daylight while lying propped up and helpless on a camp bed, and as he looked up into the familiar face of his old enemy and listened to the smooth tones of that well-remembered voice mouthing glib compliments and inquiring solicitously after his health, Ash