The Far Pavilions - Mary Margaret Kaye [38]
It never once occurred to him that the scapegoat might have been himself, or that the cakes in the pavilion could have been intended for him and not, as he supposed, for the Yuveraj.
Ash therefore held his peace; for children can only take the world as they find it, and accept the fact that their elders are all-powerful, if not all-wise. He pushed the incident of the cakes into the back of his mind, and accepting servitude in the Hawa Mahal as a necessary evil that could not at present be avoided, resigned himself to enduring it until such time as the Yuveraj came of age and had no further use for his services. At least he now had plenty to eat and clean clothes to wear; though the promised pay had not materialized, owing to the rapaciousness of the Nautch-girl having reduced the Rajah's exchequer to a dangerously low ebb. But it proved a tedious existence, until the coming of Tuku, a little mongoose that had haunted Sita's courtyard and that Ash, in search of distraction, had tamed and trained.
Tuku was the first living thing that was wholly his own, for though he knew that he possessed every scrap of Sita's heart, he could not command her presence when he chose. She had her own duties and was only available at certain hours of the day; but Tuku followed at his heels or rode on his shoulder, slept curled up under his chin at night and came when he called, and Ash loved the graceful, fearless little creature, and felt that Tuku knew it and returned his love. It was a deeply satisfactory comradeship, and it had lasted for over half a year, until a black day when Lalji, feeling tired and cross, had insisted on having Tuku to play with, and having teased him unmercifully, was repaid with a sharp nip. The next two minutes had been a nightmare that haunted Ash for many months and that he was never entirely to forget.
Lalji, his finger dripping blood, had yelled with fright and pain and shrieked to a servant to kill the mongoose at once – at once. It had been done before Ash could intervene. A single slashing blow from a scabbarded sword had broken Tuku's back, and he had twitched and whimpered for a moment, and then the life had gone out of him and there was only a limp little scrap of fur in Ash's hands.
It did not seem possible that Tuku was dead: only a minute ago he had been fluffing his tail and chattering crossly at Lalji's impertinences, and now –
Lalji said furiously: ‘Don't look at me like that! What does it matter? It was only an animal – a savage, bad-tempered animal. See where he bit me?’
‘You were teasing him,’ said Ash in a whisper. ‘It is you who are the savage, bad-tempered animal.’ He wanted to cry – to scream and shriek. Fury welled up in him and he dropped Tuku's small body and sprang at Lalji.
It had been a scuffle rather than a fight. A degrading scuffle in which Lalji spat and kicked and shrieked, until rescued by a dozen servants who had converged upon the room from every direction and dragged the boys apart.
‘I'm going,’ panted Ash, gripped by a brace of horrified retainers, and glaring defiance. ‘I won't stay with you or work for you another minute. I shall go now, and I shall never come back.’
‘And I say you shall not go!’ screamed Lalji, beside himself with rage. ‘You shan't leave without my permission, and if you try to, you'll find you can't. I shall see to that.’
Biju Ram, who as a token gesture towards defending the Yuveraj had picked up a long-barrelled pistol – fortunately unloaded – waved the weapon negligently at Ash and said languidly: ‘Your Highness should have the horse-boy branded as one does horses – or mutinous slaves. Then if he should by any chance escape, he would be speedily recognized as your property and returned.’
It is possible that the suggestion was not intended to be taken seriously; but then Lalji was far too angry to think clearly and, blinded by rage, he had seized on it. There had been no one to protest, for by ill luck the only member of his household who might have done so with any chance of success