Part 36 (2/2)

”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 His ruined coat had been replaced by a shawl.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”

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