Dur Khaima (part four)

Luckily for our hero, he became stationed at Peshawar, a
frontier town on the borders of Afghanistan, where there
was always plenty going on, taking his mind off what had
transpired.

But he never forgot her, and often would idle the time
away disconsolately thinking about what might have been,
and the cruel fate that had been dealt to them both.

His love, in her own way, had expressed that it would be
much worse for her than for him, since she was confined
to a Palace, whereas he was still free, with time to
forget her. "Never" he would say to her, " I will never
forget, and if you ever need me, Larla, I will come. If
I am not dead, I will come. "

However, time passed, and he spent his days, fighting
campaigns, indulging in British India Society Circles,
and as a secret agent (his upbringing, swarthy
complexion, and mastery of the vernacular, allowing him
to be mistaken for an Afridi, one of the border tribes
of nearby Afghanistan).

However, he never could quite fit in with either India
society, nor British Society. Some of his "chaps" said
he was like "two people in one skin".

As a result, he was branded a "dull dog" and often
ostracised by his own, and one day, incurred the wrath
of his closest Indian friend by pretending to worship
Allah by facing Mecca and praying, a habit he had had to
learn when in Muslim disguise.

Then shortly after, he had word through the famous
Indian grapevine, from the Hakim who had once treated
the despot Rana with boils. Apparently, the younger
bride, having no faith in the Rana's doctors, had called
for him from her own country, and the Hakim, knowing the
Sahib (Indian for Englishman) well, had left him word
via his servant.

The Hakim was in a place close to an army Cantonment
only 100km, as the crow flies, from the city where his
love was. He pressed on with all dispatch to get there.

The Rana was ill, desperately ill, he was told, and the
custom of Suttee was still practiced there, but being so
far from British influence, the Laws were largely
ignored there for the same reason the Rana tried to
double-cross them in the first place.

The term "Suttee" literally means "to go within" and as
kings (Ranas) were traditionally burned on a funeral
pyre after death, Suttee decreed that their living wives
would join him there to be burned alive ("to go
within"), hence the prohibition by the "Ruling" British.
Normally widows are "put away" into seclusion as being
bad luck. It is widely held, however, that some Munshis
misinterpreted the "go within" to not mean "go within
the house" but to "go within the flames".

So, the Hakim was on his way the Rana's City, and
naturally, if any news of the elder bride could be
relayed, it would be a great relief.

The Hakim and the Sahib finally devised a method of
communication using pigeons carefully hidden in a secret
compartment below the Hakim's cage that he used to carry
live chickens, as he didn't trust the Rana's food
markets. If there was any news, a pigeon would be sent
with a message tied to its leg.

Thus satisfied, the Hakim was allowed to proceed, and
yet another anxious wait followed for any news.

Weeks passed, and then more weeks, until one day, there
was a flutter of feathers at the verandah.

A pigeon.

With some haste, the Sahib removed the message and to
some relief, his girl was fine, but to his horror he learned
that the Rana was dying.

He was aghast.

This was the worst possible news. It was at that moment
he decided to go back to the City, but not as a Sahib,
but an Afridi. He hired a skilled horseman and a
knowledgeable guide, bought a fiery mare and started off
over the barren hills between them and the Rana's City,
a route never usually travelled by ordinary means.

The journey was not easy, but the guide seemed to find
paths where there appeared to be none.

Five days later, they came upon a seemingly solid wall
of rock. Without hesitation, their guide headed straight
for it. Closer inspection revealed a narrow cleft not
visible from afar, and into it they proceeded. The
passage through the rocks was so narrow, that at one
point one of the horses nearly became wedged. One hour
later, they emerged into a clear evening sky at the top
end of the very valley the bridal camp had been lured
into almost three long years ago.

Immediately they launched into their plan, that of
mingling with the adjoining local farmers, out for the
day grazing cattle and now returning eagerly for the evening
meal. Three new faces amongst many were not questioned.

The evil in the place was still as permeating as ever,
as they made their way, as unobtrusively as possible, to the
Hakim's house, entering separately so as not to arouse
suspicion.

The Hakim was extremely disturbed to see them there, as
if ever discovered it could only mean a swift death from
a convenient "accident", especially for the Sahib who
had entered secretly and not as an officer.

However, this was only part of the Hakim's deep concern.

There was far more terrible news. All four of them knew
that Suttee was still observed there, but the Hakim's
next five words cut like a knife through our hero's
heart.

"The Rana will die tonight".