A Singular Hostage Part 36

Mariana nodded again.

Miss Emily's voice would have been triumphant if it had not been so deadly. "In that case, the child in your tent was Maharajah Ranjit Singh's hostage, the child whose disappearance caused the Maharajah to fall ill, thus delaying our treaty negotiations. Delaying, in fact, the very Afghan Campaign for which we have all come so far and worked so hard."

Her eyes bored into Mariana's. "It was not magic magic that caused the child's disappearance, was it, Mariana? It was a that caused the child's disappearance, was it, Mariana? It was a conspiracy conspiracy in which you played a part. Are you, or are you not, the thief who stole the child from the Golden Temple?" in which you played a part. Are you, or are you not, the thief who stole the child from the Golden Temple?"

Miss f.a.n.n.y gasped.

It was pointless to deny the truth. "It was I who stole Saboor, Miss Emily, but there was no conspiracy." Mariana raised her chin. "I tried to tell you so, after the Maharajah's dinner party, after I got up and spoke-"

"Later, you lied to us repeatedly on the subject. When questions were asked, you deceived and betrayed us."

It was true. She had lied to them.

"I should have guessed before now." Miss Emily shook her head. "It was all in front of me. Your disappearances and your sudden headaches all began after that baby vanished. You fell asleep in your palanquin the morning after the rice test. When I consider that awful scene last night ..."

She closed her eyes. "Call one of the servants, Mariana," she said, shaking her head. "I shall not say another word until I have had tea."

"I think," remarked Miss f.a.n.n.y timidly as she stirred sugar into her cup, "that we should allow Mariana to tell the think," remarked Miss f.a.n.n.y timidly as she stirred sugar into her cup, "that we should allow Mariana to tell the entire entire story." story."

Miss Emily raised a hand. "Absolutely not, f.a.n.n.y. I cannot bear any fresh horrors."

"There may be details we have not understood," Miss f.a.n.n.y persisted. "But even if there are not, I should like to hear Mariana's side. It is, after all, a most interesting interesting story." story."

Miss Emily sniffed, but did not argue.

"The baby's name is Saboor," Mariana began, responding to Miss f.a.n.n.y's nod. "His mother was poisoned by the Maharajah's queens. He had been ill-treated by the queens and and by the Maharajah. He was forced on me suddenly by his own servant, who feared he would die. I returned him secretly to his family on the night of the rice test." by the Maharajah. He was forced on me suddenly by his own servant, who feared he would die. I returned him secretly to his family on the night of the rice test."

The ladies stared at one another. Mariana took a sip of her tea to steady herself. "The Shaikh then proposed that I marry his son. I was horrified, of course, but when the Maharajah announced that he wanted to marry me himself, I used the Shaikh's proposal as a means to refuse him. I honestly believed the Shaikh's proposal was not serious, that it was meant only to save me from the Maharajah. I was tricked into going to the Citadel."

Miss Emily sat immobile, her teacup partway to her lips. Mariana plunged onward. "On the morning after the ceremony, the Maharajah sent armed men to the Shaikh's house to fetch the baby and me me. I was forced to take the baby away in the rain, in disguise." She s.h.i.+vered at the memory. "Then child thieves came to steal him. The one who nearly got in was covered in grease. He had a knife."

"Grease? Was he-?" Miss f.a.n.n.y's eyes danced naughtily over the hand at her mouth.

"f.a.n.n.y!" Miss Emily put her cup down sharply.

"Saboor's father caught him just in time, but the struggle was messy because of the grease. That is why he smelled so awful." Mariana sighed. "He had had been wearing nice clothes." been wearing nice clothes."

Miss Emily drummed her fingers on the arm of the sofa. "Who, then, was the square man with no neck?"

"I do not know. A friend of Ha.s.san's, I think. He was not supposed to look at me, as I am married. He and a groom and someone else came in to help after I was bitten by the snake."

"Ah, the snake." Miss Emily sighed pointedly.

"I was was bitten, bitten, after after the fight." Mariana touched her wrist. "I thought I should die from the pain. I fell down, something horrible poured from my mouth, and then I fainted. They sent for someone who cures snakebite by reciting verses-" the fight." Mariana touched her wrist. "I thought I should die from the pain. I fell down, something horrible poured from my mouth, and then I fainted. They sent for someone who cures snakebite by reciting verses-"

"I see." Miss Emily raised her hands. "All politesse politesse was fiung away as soon as you were to be seen rolling on the fioor and foaming at the mouth. More native men were summoned, mumbo jumbo was recited, and you recovered." Her hands dropped to her lap. was fiung away as soon as you were to be seen rolling on the fioor and foaming at the mouth. More native men were summoned, mumbo jumbo was recited, and you recovered." Her hands dropped to her lap.

Mariana refused to look away. "I know it sounds fantastic...."

Miss f.a.n.n.y let out her breath. "And we all believed camp life was dull!"

"I blame myself." Miss Emily shook her head. "I should have had your tent put closer to mine. I should never have allowed you to be pushed off alone into a corner of the compound with only a native manservant and no woman to confide in. That is precisely how young girls get into trouble. And you, Mariana, you have a genius for trouble." She folded her hands in her lap. "This wild behavior must stop at once."

"But Emily," Miss f.a.n.n.y protested, "she only-"

Miss Emily ignored her sister. "First," she announced, "that baby is to be returned immediately to the Maharajah. The child's welfare is no concern of ours. I will not not spirit the Maharajah's hostage out of the Punjab like a thief in the night. And as for you, Mariana, our only choice is to send you to Calcutta at once. You are a danger to yourself and all of us. I shall speak to my brother this afternoon." spirit the Maharajah's hostage out of the Punjab like a thief in the night. And as for you, Mariana, our only choice is to send you to Calcutta at once. You are a danger to yourself and all of us. I shall speak to my brother this afternoon."

The air around Mariana seemed to go cold. Her training and manners forgotten, she jumped up. "No, Saboor cannot go back! If you send him to the Maharajah, he'll die of grief, and it will be all your fault all your fault!" She turned on her heel, then started for the doorway without looking back.

There was no time. Before Miss Emily went to Lord Auckland, she and Saboor must escape once more. With only Yar Mohammad and Dittoo for company and nowhere safe to take refuge, she and Saboor must become gypsies, traveling at night, hiding from people who did not care for them, who thought only of rewards or politics.

To her shame, the previous evening she, too, had chosen England over India. In her haste to forestall her own ruin, she had put her troubles above Saboor's. In the hours before the child thief came and the snake coiled itself beneath her bed, she had chosen Mama and Papa over the Shaikh and Safiya Sultana, Freddie over Saboor, eau de cologne over attar of sandalwood.

How could she have failed to see that, willingly or not, at every fork in the road she had taken the path leading to India? How could she have failed to notice that each choice had been made as if she had, indeed, been on a s.h.i.+p piloted by someone else? Now, when she was about to lose him, she knew for certain that she was Saboor's true guardian, as Yar Mohammad's dreams had foretold.

How could she ever have thought of leaving India?

"Mariana, sit down. Emily, I am shocked I am shocked."

Mariana had never heard Miss f.a.n.n.y use that tone.

"Whatever we may think of her, Mariana is is the child's stepmother. It is for her to decide what is to be done with him." the child's stepmother. It is for her to decide what is to be done with him."

Before a startled Miss Emily could reply to her sister's declaration or Mariana return to her seat, a b.u.mbling sound came from outside.

"He gave me no peace." Unshaven and untidy as ever, Dittoo nodded apologetically as he pushed his way inside, rumpled and out of place in Miss Emily's grand tent, a freshly bathed Saboor wriggling in his arms.

"No one saw us," he added as he lowered Saboor to the carpet. He tipped his head carelessly at the two ladies. "They had already seen him, had they not, last evening?"

"An-nah, An-nah." Saboor danced, chirping, to her. Gripping her skirts, he tried, panting with effort, to climb onto her lap. She felt herself fiush with pleasure as she reached for him.

His clothes were starched, his cheeks ruddy. He sat straight on her lap, his thumb in his mouth, gazing at the two English faces before him.

"These are Angrezi ladies," Mariana said instructively, kissing the top of his head.

"Rezi," he echoed seriously, then slipped down and marched, not to Miss f.a.n.n.y who was already holding out her arms, but straight to Miss Emily, who sat quite still, her hands clasped tightly in her lap.

He leaned against her skirts and peered into her face, his head tilted backward, his little red coat bunched up, a small, familiar fist resting on her knee.

"Well," she said at last, looking down, her thin lips beginning to turn up, "well, well, well."

"He must," declared Miss f.a.n.n.y, as Miss Emily took Saboor under his arms and lifted him, still sucking his thumb, to her lap, "come to my tent and stroke the spotted deer."

MARIANA lay in her own tent at midnight, enjoying her solitude, relieved that her bed had been returned to her own tent, that she was safe at last from the scrutiny of the Eden ladies, their ladies' maids, and a.s.sistant ladies' maids.

Her head felt heavy, but her body felt as light as air. The sisters had not sympathized, but they had been fair.

"We shall not, for the moment," Miss Emily had said later, "-and I emphasize for the moment for the moment-mention to anyone the whereabouts of Saboor or the events of last night."

"Do not tell her I said so," she had murmured to Miss f.a.n.n.y as Mariana listened behind them on the way in to lunch, "but I fear we may have done the girl a disservice. She is young, after all, and the baby is is very sweet." very sweet."

Mariana looked across her tent. The furnis.h.i.+ngs Ha.s.san had ordered to be brought inside after the fight looked quite comfortable arranged along one wall-the thick carpet from which Dittoo had beaten pounds of dust, the pair of bolsters, the low carved table.

She slipped out of bed, and, after making sure there were no snakes about, lowered herself uncertainly to the carpet, loosened her hair, and leaned back on a purple bolster. Ha.s.san had also provided a satin quilt. She pulled it to her chin.

What a comfortable little arrangement! It was a pity she had never had her own native furniture before.

She yawned. She had wanted to call on Shafi Sahib today, but there had been no time to find his tent. Muns.h.i.+ Sahib had given her a wonderful lesson. The poem he had brought her had been beautiful, but difficult to translate.

I gave my heart to three qualities I found in you.To be taken from these has caused my torn heart pain.But if you suffer, it is worse for me.I do not fear for you,Alone on the field of battle.

"Dittoo," she called, "raise the door blind."

This moment was perfect enough to make one wish to travel forever. The sky through the open doorway was awash with stars. A plaintive melody drifted in from the distance. Saboor slumbered peacefully on the bed.

She had seen Ha.s.san through the same doorway after the snake bit her, his back to her, his shoulders heaving, his beautiful coat stained and torn. She had not said good-bye to him, or thanked him for saving her life. Glancing behind her as she was taken away, she had caught a single glimpse of his exhausted face. He had met her eyes, then looked away.

She pushed a tangle of curls from her face. By this time, he must be on his way north to Kasur. The British camp, now moving south, would cross the Sutlej tomorrow morning. Every day the s.p.a.ce between them would grow.

Dittoo greeted someone, then backed hurriedly away.

Ha.s.san stepped quietly in through the doorway. He stood there, his gaze traveling to the bed where Saboor lay sleeping, then to her. He had a cut on his cheekbone. His ruined coat had been replaced by a shawl.

He sat beside her on the carpet. "Let me see your wound," he said without preamble, pus.h.i.+ng the quilt out of the way and reaching for her hand. An uncut emerald set in gold gleamed on his finger as he raised her wrist to the light.

"I must thank you for what you did last night," she said a little weakly, distracted by the pressure of his fingers. "I might have died. Was it you who sucked the poison?"

He did not answer. Instead he released her wrist and sat back against the bolster, his face turned from hers. The shawl across his chest moved up and down.

"I have received an urgent message from Kasur," he said. "I must start back tonight. I had hoped to cross the Sutlej with your camp, but I cannot."

"It was was you," she whispered, her fingers on the healed wounds, remembering the agony in her wrist and the voice praying by her side. you," she whispered, her fingers on the healed wounds, remembering the agony in her wrist and the voice praying by her side.

He said nothing, nor did he look at her, but a wave of feeling seemed to come from him, as if he were speaking to her without words. It crossed the s.p.a.ce between them, gaining power, mixing with the scent of sandalwood, reaching every part of Mariana's body. Her breathing deepened.

A small sound came from the sleeping Saboor. Ha.s.san glanced toward the bed. "When people ask us where you are," he said softly, turning to Mariana, "we will tell them you have gone to stay with your relatives."

"With my relatives," Mariana repeated, as his eyes searched her face. That would imply that she had run away from his family, from him. But it was suddenly far more complicated than that. "No," she stammered. She ran her hands over the satin quilt, searching for the right words. "No."

He rose to his feet. She knew by the way he held his body that he was about to leave her.

"The Maharajah will most likely die soon," he said. "After that, the succession, Allah willing, will be smooth." He moved to the bed and lifted Saboor. "If it is not, there is a chance you may not see us again. If you do not, have courage, and remember me and my family." His eyes closing, he embraced his son.

Starlight streamed in through the doorway and lay at their feet. "Shafi Sahib will remain with you and my son." Ha.s.san stepped closer to her and handed her the child. "Even while he is small, Saboor should be instructed in the ways of the Brotherhood. One day, G.o.d willing, he will be a great man."

She could not speak.

"Yar Mohammad, also, will stay with you. He is now in my family's pay. I am sure he will think of a way to hide Saboor during your journey." He paused. "If I can, when it is safe, I will come for you." His voice had thickened.

"You will come for me me?" she repeated.

"Yes." With a sharp intake of breath, he bent and caught her mouth with his.

She did not try to escape him. She stood, trembling, the sleeping boy in her arms. His mouth was firmer than Fitzgerald's had been. His eyes were open.

Approaching footsteps broke the silence around them. Ha.s.san released her and looked out through the doorway. "Shafi Sahib is coming," he said, in another voice. "He must have come to say good-bye to me, and to talk to you of your journey." He smiled apologetically. "I must go out and meet him."

He stepped through the doorway, then turned and looked hard at her. "Khuda Hafiz," he said. "And may G.o.d protect you." He raised his hand, just as his father had done when she left Qamar Haveli after returning Saboor.

Mariana stood still, holding the child tightly against her.

A moment later, Ha.s.san's respectful greeting drifted into the tent. She looked about her. Shafi Sahib, the mysterious interpreter of dreams, was nearly at her door. She must do something. She laid Saboor on the bed and wiped her palms on her skirts. What would she say when they met? She could not touch his knees or his feet as the natives did, but she must make some gesture, however subtle, to show her respect. She could never treat Shaikh Waliullah's friend as if he were an ordinary person. Until she saw them again, Shafi Sahib would be her link to Ha.s.san and his family.

Someone was removing his shoes outside the door. Brown fingers grasped the reed screen and held it aside. Her muns.h.i.+ stood before her, blinking a little in the half darkness.

"Peace, Bibi," he said mildly. "I trust you are well?"

THAT night, she woke as a light wind sighed around the tent. The fog of her recurring dream had lifted at last. Over water that sparkled and shone, her s.h.i.+p now sailed parallel to a rocky sh.o.r.e, while behind her, tied to the s.h.i.+p's stern, an energetic little dinghy bounced on the waves.

They were not alone. Ahead of them, a plain and powerful Arab dhow dhow sliced purposefully through the water, its lateen-rigged sail creaking in the wind. Beside the dhow and a little behind it, a narrow, gondolalike boat moved smoothly through the waves, propelled by oarsmen, its prow carved to resemble a bird. Between Mariana's barque and the dangerous-looking sh.o.r.e plied a long, serviceable barge, piled high with leather and straw. sliced purposefully through the water, its lateen-rigged sail creaking in the wind. Beside the dhow and a little behind it, a narrow, gondolalike boat moved smoothly through the waves, propelled by oarsmen, its prow carved to resemble a bird. Between Mariana's barque and the dangerous-looking sh.o.r.e plied a long, serviceable barge, piled high with leather and straw.

She searched the distance. There, above the horizon's edge, rose the graceful masts of an Indian river yacht.

IT was, after all, not Yar Mohammad but Dittoo who found a way to hide Saboor as they traveled. "No one will look for him at so great a height," he declared, nodding fiercely to emphasize the cleverness of his solution. "We will need only to take care that Saboor is not seen when we bring him across the avenue."

The next day he had tramped away, a bribe of a newly hemmed cotton shawl in his hand, to make Saboor's travel arrangements.

Later, as she rode beside Miss Emily in one of the carriages, Mariana caught sight of Motu the elephant behind them in the distance, a ma.s.sive swaying shape among a dusty sea of carts and baggage animals, the tiny figure of Hira Lal seated on his neck, carrying the Governor-General's great durbar tent and the grandson of Shaikh Waliullah of the Karakoyia Brotherhood to Calcutta.

GLOSSARY OF URDU WORDS NOT DEFINED IN THE TEXT.

A.

abbadiminutive of father AllahG.o.d ammidiminutive of mother AngrezEnglish annaa coin: one sixteenth of a rupee attarscented oil azanMuslim call to prayer: given five times a day B.

babadiminutive for a male child Begum Sahibpolite form of address for a married lady bhabipolite term for a young female relative bhajipolite term for an elder female relative Bibipolite form of address for a young woman burqawoman's head-to-toe covering made of many yards of cotton C.

caravanseraiovernight stopping place for travelers and their animals chapattiflat disc of unleavened wheat bread: the bread of the people D.

dallentils dhoolielitter for carrying a woman dhotiHindu loincloth durbarmeeting between heads of state G.

Gurkha knifeheavy knife with downward-curving blade used by Gurkha soldiers Granth Sahibsacred text of Sikh religion gulab jamonsticky brown sweetmeat H.

havelilarge walled-city house, built around a courtyard howdahlitter or seat with railings, for riding on an elephant Huzoorpolite form of address, equivalent to "my lord"