The Far Pavilions - Mary Margaret Kaye [331]
‘There is no need,’ said Koda Dad placidly. ‘No one but myself could have done so – and then only because of my long knowledge and affection for you, and because I remember the old days very clearly. I will not press you to tell me anything that you do not wish, but I am troubled for you, my son. It grieves me deeply to see you so unhappy, and if I can be of any help–’
‘You have always been that,’ said Ash quickly. ‘I leaned upon you as a child and I have done so again and again when – when I was a raw recruit. Also I know well that had I taken your advice more often I would have saved myself much sorrow.’
‘Tell me,’ said Koda Dad. He seated himself cross-legged on the warm stone, prepared to listen, while Ash leaned on the parapet, and looking out across the Begum's garden to where the Indus glowed red-gold in the sunset, told all those things he had left out of his tale on the previous day, omitting only the happenings of one night…
When he had finished, Koda Dad sighed and said inconsequentially: ‘Her father had great courage and many good qualities, and he ruled his people wisely – but not his own household. There he was both weak and idle, being one who greatly disliked tears and arguments and quarrelling. Hai mai!’
He fell silent, brooding on the past, and presently he said: ‘Yet he too never broke a promise. If he gave his word, he kept it, as befits a Rajput. Therefore it is only right that Kairi-Bai should do likewise, as from what you have told me I see that she has inherited only the good. This you may see only as your misfortune, yet in time I think you will come to see that it was best for both of you that she had the courage to keep faith, since had she done as you desired (and lived to tell of it, which I think unlikely) you would not have found happiness together.’
Ash turned from his contemplation of the darkening river and said harshly: ‘Why do you say that? I would have done anything – everything.’
Once again Koda Dad's sinewy, authoritative hand checked him: ‘Do not talk like a child, Ashok. I do not doubt that you would have done all that was in your power to make her happy. But it is not in your power to build a new world; or to turn back time. Only the One God could do that – were it necessary. And it would be very necessary for you! I myself have had little or no experience of your people, but I have sons and kinsmen who know the ways of the Sahib-log; and having ears to hear, I have listened and learned much during the years since I left Gulkote. Now as I do not believe that all I have heard can be lies, you, Ashok, will now listen to me.’
Ash smiled faintly and sketched a mock-humble salute, but Koda Dad frowned him down and said sharply: ‘This is not a matter for jest, boy. Once, long ago, in the days when the rule of the Company Bahadur' (he meant the East India Company) ‘was young and there were no memsahibs in Hind, the Sahibs took wives from among the women of this land and none spoke against it. But when the Company waxed strong their ships brought out many memsahibs, and the memsahibs frowned upon this practice, openly despising all those who associated with Indian women – above all, those who married them – and showing scorn and contempt towards the children of mixed blood. Seeing this, the people of Hind were angry and they too set their faces against it, so that now both regard it with equal disfavour. Therefore neither Kairi's people nor yours would have permitted a marriage between you.’
‘They could not have stopped us,’ declared Ash angrily.
‘Maybe not. But they would have tried. And if you had persisted, and made her your wife, you would have found that few if any mem-log would have consented to meet her or invite her into their houses, or allowed their daughters to enter hers; and none would treat her as an equal – not even her own people, who would do likewise, and speak ill of her behind her back because she, a king's daughter, must accept such treatment