Dur Khaima (part three)

After many hours of soul-searching about possible avenues for their future, the unfortunate guy reluctantly agreed (secretly, on further rides) with his love that the wedding must go ahead.

During this time, the enormous Bridal Camp was approaching the territory governed by the soon-to-be-wed Rana, and preparations far outweighed him seeing his love even secretly.

Added to this, his problems became far worse when upon their encampment deep within the Rana's influence, they found themselves virtual prisoners in a deep valley heavily guarded by manned Fortresses armed with cannon.

Then came the real blow. The Rana subsequently demanded almost twice the bride price previously agreed as compensation for the expensive ceremonies he would have to take for marrying a half-caste, the Elder Bride, as she was one-quarter Russian.

Many Official meetings ensued, during which he discovered that the Rana did not look the 40 years he was supposed to, but more like 70, owing to his opium addictions and countless other vices. Moreover he was apparently very sick.

This so outraged our gallant British Officer, not only in principle but because they had openly referred to his love by the insulting term 'half-caste', that he did all in his power to try and dissuade the Rana from any action. But the Rana didn't care about threats of being reported to the British Authorities, as his state was so far from the nearest Political Officer that it would be months before any decision, let alone reply could be made.

So the love-lorn guy did the only thing in his power : he called the Rana's bluff. In the dead of night, they all sneaked out of the valley, 500 elephants and all, risking being fired upon by the cannon.

Our guy was banking on the fact that the Rana would never risk firing upon such distinguished company, as if and when the British got to hear of it (and they would), they may leave a garrison in the city, and this was the last thing on his mind.

Even while the Rana and his subjects were debating this, the bridal camp was nearly half way out of the valley, and by morning, they had made a new camp, being politely greeted by the Rana's entourage, as if nothing untoward had happened. In fact the services of the Officer's doctor were required, as the Rana had been overcome with a serious attack of boils. The doctor was despatched and subsequently easily cured the boils, and our hero turned his mind to other things.

Once again, he tried to dissuade his girl not to go through with it, and this time he was so desperate he requested a private meeting right in front of her uncle's eyes. Only by virtue of his heroic deeds was the meeting allowed so close to the wedding. His uncle physically gasped with shock when he witnessed their manner of greeting for the last time.

He tried every argument he could possibly think of, but she would not change his mind. Her reason was simple. It was her sister, the younger bride, the 14-year old, whom would find life hell if she was companionless. This she could not allow, and no amount of pleading or anger or even emotional blackmail could reverse her decision.

He had lost her. To an ugly husband who didn't love her, and a prison in the Zenana quarters in a place full of corruption and vice.

He turned away, looked back with one long, last look, and left the tent.

Being a British Officer, the next day he had to put all this behind him, and watch dispassionately, as the Love of His Life was married to someone else right before his eyes.

However, as he was later to find out, had he known the Rana better, it may have been better for them to take their chances and run away after all.