The Far Pavilions - Mary Margaret Kaye [303]
Kaka-ji, who had hitherto failed to see this point, looked startled, and as its implications dawned on him, observed with grudging respect that the Rana was undoubtedly a cunning fellow and one to be reckoned with. ‘Too cunning for an old man such as myself,’ admitted Kaka-ji ruefully. ‘Ah well, it would not have been possible for us to refuse his offer, so we must put a good face upon it. Nor do I feel that we need grudge him this little victory, seeing that we have defeated him so soundly in all other respects. Yet I hope you do not think that he has any further tricks in mind?’
Ash thought it only too likely: probably a round dozen. But he sidestepped the question by asking if the Rao-Sahib had yet learned how many people were likely to be in the bridegroom's party? – the durbar hall of the Pearl Palace, where the marriage ceremony would take place, was not over-large, and…
The Rao-Sahib, instantly diverted, replied that only relatives and close friends would be in the durbar hall, but that several large shamianahs were already being erected in the gardens of the Moti Mahal to accommodate the, remainder of the guests. He took Ash off to inspect them, and in the bustle and excitement of the preparations the Rana's ‘minor victory’ was tactfully forgotten.
There had been no more trouble over the payment of the bride-price, and now it seemed that nothing was too good for the visitors. The bride's brother and uncle, and anyone else who chose to do so, were pressed to stay on after the wedding for as long as it suited them – until the onset of the monsoon if they wished. The Pearl Palace would be placed at their disposal and no limit set to the number of attendants and other members of their entourage whom they might choose to keep with them, all of whom could be accommodated in the park.
The offer was a generous one, and Ash realized with dismay that it would probably be accepted, and that however much he personally disliked the idea of having to stay in Bhithor for even a day longer than he must, it would be no bad thing if it were, as there was no blinking the fact that the longer Jhoti stayed out of Nandu's reach the better. Biju Ram was dead and his servants and confederates banished from the camp, but there would still be men in Karidkote willing to do murder at a nod from their ruler, and it was Ash's hope (or had been, in the days before he met the Rana) that the boy's new brother-in-law might be persuaded to keep him in Bhithor until such time as he was old enough to guard himself from assassination – or until Nandu over-reached himself and was deposed, which was not so unlikely in view of the fact that the verbal report Ash would be required to make on his return to Rawalpindi would include an account of the attempts on Jhoti's life, which would certainly result in a good deal of official attention being focused on Nandu's activities, both past and present.
There was also the welfare of the camp as a whole to be considered, and Ash knew very well that the great majority of its members, including the horses, elephants, pack animals and other livestock, would gain greatly from remaining in Bhithor until the arrival of the monsoon. If all had gone as planned, they would have been half-way home by now, but delays on the outward march and the protracted negotiations that had followed upon their arrival had totalled many weeks. The worst of the hot weather was already upon them, and to start the return journey in this heat would mean great hardship for all – the old in particular; and Kaka-ji, for one, was far from robust and unused to these high temperatures.
‘They will have to stay,’ thought Ash resignedly. They would all have to stay, himself included. He was tied to the camp until such time as they reached Deenagunj again. When the proposal was put to him he agreed to it, even though the thought of lingering in Bhithor within sight of the Rung Mahal where Anjuli would be living, wedded and bedded to that shrivelled and unscrupulous satyr,