Part 27 (1/2)

”I said you you would be safe.” He wiped his face with a corner of his chaderi. ”I will die horribly at the hands of the women of this house,” he whispered, ”when they discover that I, a man, have entered their quarters.” would be safe.” He wiped his face with a corner of his chaderi. ”I will die horribly at the hands of the women of this house,” he whispered, ”when they discover that I, a man, have entered their quarters.”

Attracted by their voices, the men on the roof now peered down into the courtyard, long-barreled jezails in their hands.

Of course the women would kill Nur Rahman. And G.o.d knew what the men would do. Mariana looked quickly about her. There was no way out now, but even if there were, the flat fields surrounding the fort would offer Nur Rahman no protective cover as he ran for his life.

She hurried to him. ”Come,” she urged. ”Staying on that horse will only make things worse.”

As he slid to the ground, two women in brown chaderis appeared in the doorway of a second building. They beckoned, two mud-colored ghosts, their thoughts impossible to divine.

Left with no choice, Mariana and Nur Rahman crossed the courtyard and followed the women into an inner building whose own courtyard boasted a tree and several tethered horses and goats.

Nur Rahman's whole body trembled. ”Pashtun women have great power,” he confided. ”It is they who decide who should live and who should die.”

Ahead of them, the women threw back their chaderis and pointed, smiling, to a corner room whose window overlooked the courtyard. The older of the two said something in Pushto.

Nur Rahman nodded for them both, then crept through the doorway behind Mariana.

The room was bare, save for a single string bed against one wall. They sat down on it together.

”I cannot bear to think of you dying to save my life,” she said in a small voice.

”When I die,” he whispered, ”I hope to go to Paradise. It is my only dream, for in Paradise are all the things I have longed for in this life.”

”What you have longed for?”

”Friends,” he said simply. ”I want to recline on beautiful carpets with loving companions, to eat the perfect fruits of the Garden and to drink from the fountain of Salsabil.”

The perfect fruits of the Garden. No one had ever given Mariana such a vivid description of Heaven, not even her father, whom she had peppered with questions when she was twelve, after her little brother's sad death. No one had ever given Mariana such a vivid description of Heaven, not even her father, whom she had peppered with questions when she was twelve, after her little brother's sad death.

”Most of all,” Nur Rahman added, ”I long to see the face of the Beloved.”

”The Beloved.” Her G.o.d had always been the Heavenly Father. Saying Nur Rahman's words aloud, she found herself filled with longing.

Muns.h.i.+ Sahib had told her once that Christians and Muslims shared the same G.o.d. Of course her father would disagree.

From the wistfulness of his tone, the boy had never had a friend. What sort of life had he led?

”But I will never be accepted into the Garden,” he added mournfully.

”What?” Mariana blinked. ”Why?”

”I have committed many sins.” His head lowered, he picked at his fingers. ”My sins are numerous, and too grave to be forgiven.”

No. This was too cruel. It was true that Nur Rahman looked distressingly unsavory, but what of his kindness toward Muns.h.i.+ Sahib? What of his efforts to save her family? What of his courage at this moment, as he sat uncomplaining in this room with its window onto the courtyard, waiting to die?

”I am certain,” Mariana said decisively, ”that G.o.d will forgive all your sins. Why would He not? You are young, almost a child. G.o.d always forgives children.”

”He does?” The boy's voice brightened. ”Do you think He will-”

He fell silent. A short, heavyset woman had entered, followed by a maidservant carrying two steaming cups of green tea on a tray. ”Peace,” she offered.

Before Mariana had time to digest the irony of that greeting, the woman said something else, and tipped her chin toward the door.

”Her name is Zahida. She is telling us to have tea in another room,” translated Nur Rahman.

The second room was as cold as the first one, but it had thick carpets and bolsters on the floor. It smelled of burning charcoal. As Mariana sipped cardamom-flavored tea, the woman held out paper, a pen, and a bottle of ink.

”They are sending their men to escort your family here,” Nur Rahman explained. ”She wants you to write and tell them to be ready tomorrow morning.”

The woman, who wore a silver nose ring, was old enough to be Mariana's mother. Mariana examined her through the peephole in her chaderi, wondering if she were friend or foe.

She spoke again.

”She wants us to take off our chaderis.” Nur Rahman's eyes were wide behind his peephole.

”Tell her we will do it in a moment,” Mariana replied.

Dear Uncle Adrian, she wrote, a local chief has granted panah to our household. You, Aunt Claire, and all the servants are to come immediately to his fort escorted by a body of his own hors.e.m.e.n who are waiting outside the cantonment gate. Please act upon this offer at once. a local chief has granted panah to our household. You, Aunt Claire, and all the servants are to come immediately to his fort escorted by a body of his own hors.e.m.e.n who are waiting outside the cantonment gate. Please act upon this offer at once.

He would understand the word panah panah, and its significance.

I have asked our host to send us on to India, she added. Please extend this offer to Lady Macnaghten, Lady Sale and her daughter, and anyone with small children. Please extend this offer to Lady Macnaghten, Lady Sale and her daughter, and anyone with small children.

It is our one chance of escape from Kabul. Do not be afraid. The chief will not break the Pashtun Code.

Hoping she was telling the truth, she paused to glance at the boy beside her.

I am sending this letter with Nur Rahman, she added, so you will know it is genuine. so you will know it is genuine.

She signed the paper with a flourish. ”My servant here,” she said, as she handed it to the waiting woman, ”will carry this letter to my family.

”May I ask,” she added over Nur Rahman's squeak of relief, ”to whom this fort belongs?”

The woman named Zahida stared in surprise. ”You do not know?”

Something in her voice made Mariana's jaw tighten.

”You are under the protection,” Zahida announced, ”of Aminullah Khan.”

Palsied old creature trying to get up. Deaf as a post. Mariana shrank against her bolster, remembering the slight tremor in his left hand. No one, not even Macnaghten, had known what the man looked like. Mariana shrank against her bolster, remembering the slight tremor in his left hand. No one, not even Macnaghten, had known what the man looked like.

She had put her family at his mercy.

It was too late to escape, too late even to s.n.a.t.c.h her letter away from the woman who now signaled for Nur Rahman to follow her out.

”Do not worry, Khanum,” he whispered before he left for the blessed, questionable safety of the cantonment. ”Your family will be safe here.”

A moment later, numb with fright, Mariana was alone.