The Far Pavilions - Mary Margaret Kaye [592]
63
‘Faith, that's a fine way to begin the autumn, I must say!’ exclaimed Wally indignantly. ‘You'd think those scutts could have given us a bit more notice, wouldn't you now? It's a shabby lot they are and no mistake.’
‘Oh, come now, babe,’ protested William. ‘They know very well that we have our own grass-cutters and that they are under no obligation to provide us with fodder for our horses, yet they've been giving us the stuff free, gratis and for nothing ever since we arrived. It's only fair that now we've settled down and found our feet, we should start to fend for ourselves.’
‘I suppose you're right,’ conceded Wally. ‘But it wouldn't have hurt His Imperial Afghan Highness to let us know beforehand that he meant to cut off supplies at the end of August, instead of waiting until the first of September to break the news that from now on we can get out and forage for ourselves. Because it's not something we can do straight off the bat, you know. At least, not in this particular country. Unless we want to find ourselves up to our eyebrows in trouble, we're going to have to make dashed certain where we are allowed to go, and even more important, where we are not – which isn't something we can sort out in five minutes.’
‘You mean that I can sort out. It'll be on my tray, not yours,’ retorted William wryly. ‘But we must have a good two days' supply in hand, surely? That last consignment ought to tide us over at least until the day after tomorrow, so I don't know what you're complaining about. I'll have a talk with the Chief about fixing up where our grass-cutters can go, and they can trot off and start earning an honest living again on the morning of the third. I suppose you will have to send a guard with them?’
‘There's no “suppose” about it,’ said Wally bitterly. ‘They wouldn't budge a yard without one.’
‘Bad as that, is it?’
‘You know it is. It's been weeks since any of the camp-followers would risk putting a nose outside the compound unless they went in a group, and preferably accompanied by one or two jawans – Mussulmans for choice. Even my Sikhs and Hindus haven't been going about much either. Do you mean to say you didn't know that?’
‘Of course I did, my wee laddie. What on earth do you take me for? I may be a few years older than you, but I'm not actually doddering yet; or deaf or short-sighted either. But I'd rather hoped that the situation would have eased a trifle after half those noisy bastards from Herat grabbed their pay and bolted.’
‘I daresay it has. But it's too soon for the effects to be felt, and I wouldn't dream of sending out a flock of grass-cutters without someone to play sheep-dog and keep an eye on them. In fact I shall probably go along myself at first, just to make sure that everything is all right. We don't want ‘em rushing back to barracks empty-handed and in a panic because some sturdy local patriot has called them naughty names and heaved a brick at them.’
‘We don't indeed,’ agreed William, and went away to discuss a number of questions that had been raised by the abrupt announcement that in future the Residency would be responsible for feeding its own horses.
The decision had come as a surprise, but apart from the lack of notice it was not one that could be cavilled at, because as William had pointed out, there was no earthly reason why the Afghan Government should supply fodder for the British Mission's horses – particularly when the Guides had their own grass-cutters, who were perfectly capable of getting it for them. Wally had not been blind to that, and his annoyance had been solely on account of the suddenness of the announcement, which struck him as unnecessarily discourteous.
He could see no reason why the Residency should not have been informed at the outset that this particular