The Far Pavilions - Mary Margaret Kaye [300]
‘That is so,’ agreed Mulraj, ‘but it would take more than the discomforts of a night march to keep the Rao-Sahib from his prayers. He performs his pujah, and only when that is finished will he rest. As for myself, being less devout, I shall follow the young prince's example and take what sleep I can before these Bhithoris descend upon us with lies and excuses and false expressions of good-will.’
‘And apologies also, one hopes – though I doubt that. But there is no need for us to break our rest for them. They have kept us waiting often enough and it will do them and their misbegotten ape of a Rana no harm to get a taste of their own medicine.’
‘Oho! Sahib ka mizaj aj bahut garum hai,’ quoted Mulraj with a grin, repeating a comment he had heard Gul Baz make in a muttered aside to Ash's syce.
‘So would you be in a bad temper,’ retorted Ash hotly, ‘if you'd had to –’ He broke off and laughed a trifle ashamedly: ‘You are right. I'm in a foul mood, and at the moment I'd enjoy murdering the lot of them – starting with the Rana. The thought of having to pretend that all the insults and chicanery that we have been subjected to are forgiven and forgotten, and that the wedding can take place as though nothing had happened, sticks in my gullet, and when I think that… I'm sorry. I'd better get some sleep myself or I shall be in no fit state to conduct any further talks with anyone. Go on, get to your bed. So-jana, bai, and may your dreams be auspicious.’
He watched Mulraj walk tiredly away and was aware that he himself was tired beyond reason, not only physically but mentally – so tired that suddenly he could not feel angry any more. His anger, together with all the fears and hopes that had tormented him for so long, seemed to have drained out of him, leaving behind a vast emptiness. He had done all that he could for Juli. And also, which was ironical, for Nandu: he had saved Nandu's pride and his purse, together with Juli's honour, and (for what it was worth) the reputations of the Rana, the Political Officer and Captain Pelham-Martyn of the Guides. And none of it meant anything any more…
Ash turned and went into his tent, and a few minutes later the anxious Mahdoo, hastening in with a scalding cup of tea, found him stretched out on the camp bed, fully clothed and so deeply asleep that he did no more than grunt when Mahdoo and Gul Baz eased him out of his coat and riding boots before closing the tent-flap against the dazzle of the rising sun.
30
He was riding headlong across a stony plain that was bounded by low, barren hills, and Anjuli was on the crupper behind him, clinging to him and urging him to ride faster – faster. He could not see the horsemen racing in pursuit, for when he looked back her unbound hair, streaming out on the wind like a silken scarf, impeded his view. But he could hear the thunder of galloping hoof-beats drawing nearer and nearer, and he laughed because Juli's arms were about him and nothing and no one could harm them as long as they were together. And then suddenly he realized that the silken scarf was not black but yellow, and he looked over his shoulder and saw with horror that it was not Juli at all, but a silly simpering girl with blue eyes and blond ringlets who pouted at him and said: ‘Do hurry, Ashton. I don't want Papa to catch us.’ Belinda! – he had eloped with Belinda, and now he would have to marry her and be saddled with her for the rest of his life. For ever and always…
‘No. Oh no,’ cried Ash. And woke, sweating and shuddering, to find Mahdoo bending over him and his tent once more lit by an oil lamp. He had slept the clock round, and the messengers from the Rana, who had arrived in the course of the morning, were still waiting to speak to him.
‘The Sirdar Mulraj gave orders that neither you nor he were to be disturbed,’ said Mahdoo, ‘but the Sirdar is still sleeping, and now the Rao-Sahib sends to know what is to be done with them and whether arrangements should be made for