The Far Pavilions - Mary Margaret Kaye [649]
He cocked his head, listening to the distant sound of shouting and laughter that accompanied the work of destruction, and as he urged Ash forward, said scornfully: ‘The fools think that because they have slain four Angrezis they have rid the land of foreigners. But once the news of this day's doings reaches India the English will come to Kabul, which will spell disaster for them and their Amir. And also for the English – of that we can be sure!’
‘How so?’ asked Ash incuriously, stumbling obediently forward and discovering with relief that his strength was returning to him and his brain becoming clearer with every step.
‘Because they will depose the Amir,’ replied the spy Sobhat; ‘and I do not think that they will put his son on the gadi in his place. Afghanistan is no country to be ruled by a child. This will leave his brothers, who have no following and would not last long if the English tried to put either on the throne, and his cousin Abdur Rahman; who though a bold man and a good fighter they distrust, because he took refuge with the Russ-log. Therefore I will make you a prophecy. In five years' time, or it may be less, Abdur Rahman will be Amir of Afghanistan, and then this country, upon which the English have twice waged war because (so they said) they feared that it might fall into the hands of the Russ-log and thereby endanger their hold on Hindustan, will be ruled by a man who owes all to those same Russ-log and… Ah, it is as I thought; the sentries have left to join in the looting and there is no one to stay us.’
He hurried Ash through the unguarded gate and turned along the dusty road that led past the citadel, in the direction of Nakshband Khan's house. ‘Wherefore,’ continued the spy, ‘all this war and killing will have been in vain, for my countrymen have long memories, and neither Abdur Rahman nor his heirs, or his people who have fought two wars and engaged in countless Border battles with the English, will forget these things. In the years to come they will still remember the English as their enemies – an enemy whom they defeated. But the Russ-log, whom they have neither fought against nor defeated, they will look upon as their friends and allies. This I told Cavagnari-Sahib when I warned him that the time was not ripe for a British Mission in Kabul, but he would not believe me.’
‘No,’ said Ash slowly. ‘I too…’
‘Ha, so you also were one of Cavagnari-Sahib's men? I thought as much. He was a great Sirdar, and one who spoke every tongue of this country. But for all his cunning and his great knowledge he did not know the true heart or mind of Afghanistan, else he would not have persisted in coming here. Well, he is dead – as are all whom he brought here with him. It has been a great killing: and soon there will be more… much more. This has been a black day for Kabul, an evil day. Do not linger here too long my friend. It is not a safe place for such as you and I. Can you walk alone from here? Good. Then I will leave you, since I have much to do. No, no, do not thank me. Par makhe da kha.’
He turned and strode away across country in the direction of the river, and Ash went on alone and reached Nakshband Khan's house without incident.
The Sirdar had returned half an hour earlier, his friend Wali Mohammed having smuggled him out of the Bala Hissar in disguise as soon as the firing stopped. But Ash did not wish to see him.
There was only one person he wanted to see or speak to just then – though even to her he could