A Singular Hostage Part 9

"What? Cook for the child?" The eunuch swung around. "Are you mad?"

Neeloo spread his hands. "The child is valuable to the Maharajah. He must be delivered to the camp alive."

The eunuch paced, muttering to himself, while they made a small fire and stirred a pot of lentils. He fumed aloud, glaring as the child opened his mouth like a baby bird's to receive his food.

"He is very hungry," said a bearer.

"These cruelties happen over deaths and marriages," agreed a guard, shaking his head as Neeloo tore off a child-sized morsel of flat bread and scooped up a little of the yellow mush.

But it seemed that food and drink alone would not satisfy Saboor. As soon as they started off again, wailing arose from inside the curtained box. On and on it went, wavering a little with the bouncing of the palki, pausing as the child breathed, only to begin again.

The running bearers shouted encouragement. When the cries did not stop, Neeloo and the unburdened bearers opened the palanquin's curtains and trotted alongside, arguing with the little boy's tears.

"Come, child, do not weep," they called, putting their hands inside to pat his dirty little body. "Look, there are so many things to see. We will open the curtain on the other side, also. There is not far to go. You will have so many things to eat at the Maharajah's camp!"

But Saboor went on wailing, his eyes squeezed shut, his mouth stretched wide.

"You are making us late!" shouted the eunuch as Neeloo stopped again and lifted the child once more from the Maharajah's satin sheets. "I order you to move!"

Neeloo did not look up. He folded Saboor onto his lap as he had done for his own children when they, too, had wept from want and misery. "We will wait until he has ceased crying," he declared, as he wiped Saboor's wet face with a callused hand. "No child should be left to weep alone."

The other men nodded their agreement.

The eunuch raged, but for all his authority, he was only one, and there were twenty-four bearers and twelve armed guards. Their backs to the eunuch, all waited by the beautiful carved palanquin until, cradled in Neeloo's arms, Saboor had sobbed himself to sleep.

Miss f.a.n.n.y rocked a little on the narrow seat as she, Miss Emily, and Mariana returned on an elephant from the parade ground. "I must say, our troops made a stirring show this morning," she remarked.

Miss Emily, who sat hunched over with fever beside her sister, pulled her shawls closer about her in the morning heat. "Did you enjoy our practice review, my dear?" She peered out at Mariana from the shade of a large purple silk bonnet.

"Oh, yes," Mariana cried, "it was marvelous! How do you suppose they persuaded the baggage elephants to behave so well on parade?"

For her, the best part of the show had been the horse artillery, especially Lieutenant Fitzgerald on his tall gray gelding, his bra.s.s dragoon helmet fiashing as he led a team pulling a twenty-pound gun.

"I hope they do as well at the real review." Miss f.a.n.n.y sighed. "I always think I have become used to seeing our British soldiers in India; but when the Queen's Buffs marched past this morning ..." Her voice quavered.

"Yes, indeed, f.a.n.n.y," put in Miss Emily, speaking through gently chattering teeth, "you always weep at the sight of the Buffs. For my part, a bagpipe always fills me with excitement. At the first hint of a drone I long to s.n.a.t.c.h up a weapon and attack someone."

Miss f.a.n.n.y tugged her bonnet lower over her eyes. "And whom would you attack? I can only imagine myself attacking rampaging natives."

The two ladies subsided into silence, their eyes on the horizon. Opposite them, Mariana fidgeted on her seat.

"Miss f.a.n.n.y," she asked after a moment, "do you really dislike the natives?"

"In a way I do, Mariana," replied Miss f.a.n.n.y, as she took out her handkerchief. "There is something far too too foreign about them: something mysterious and upsetting." She pointed down at a group of dark-skinned men walking beside the elephants, wearing only dirtylooking loincloths, their hair tangled and uncombed. "Look at those men. How can one not feel distaste?" foreign about them: something mysterious and upsetting." She pointed down at a group of dark-skinned men walking beside the elephants, wearing only dirtylooking loincloths, their hair tangled and uncombed. "Look at those men. How can one not feel distaste?"

She sniffed, her handkerchief to her nose.

"But not all of them are like that, surely." The elephant shifted her weight, causing the open box where the ladies sat to lurch sideways, pushing Mariana against the railing. "Surely some of the natives are worthy of respect. My munshi says there are n.o.ble and G.o.d-fearing men of all religions in India, and-"

"Their worthiness, or lack of it, is not the point, Mariana," Miss Emily interrupted from her corner. "The point is that you show far too much interest in their affairs. You have been seen poking about with elephants and mahouts. You speak of helping diseased natives. I worry about that munshi of yours. I fear he has filled your head with unsuitable ideas.

"The only way to behave with natives," she added, tightening her shawls, "is to ignore them. Do not like them, do not hate them, do not fear them. Those who do pay a heavy price. Our previous lady translator, silly woman, developed a horror of natives. I am told she barricades her bedroom door at night for fear one of them will get in while she is sleeping."

Miss f.a.n.n.y put a hand to her bonnet. "Something happened to her, you see. People are saying she will never be the same again."

"The lady," said Miss Emily, "was awakening from sleep one morning when her serving man came in with her coffee. As he put down the tray, he noticed a scorpion on the bedclothes. It was, if I am correct, crawling up the lady's person, on its way to her face."

She turned to Mariana. "Hill scorpions, as you know, are large, black, and very fierce."

Mariana remembered Dittoo shaking out her riding habit. "The sting of a scorpion," she repeated, "can make the strongest man scream."

Miss Emily did not seem impressed with Mariana's knowledge. She pointed into the air with a gloved hand. "The servant tore open the mosquito curtains, reached out with his bare hand, and swept the scorpion to the fioor, where he killed it. The lady began to shriek at the top of her voice. People rushed to her room to find her fainting with terror, but not," she added, closing her eyes as the howdah rolled, creaking, to one side, "from fear of scorpions."

"From what, then?" Mariana looked eagerly from one sister to the other. This was perfect for her next letter to Papa. "What was the lady so afraid of? Why did she faint?"

Miss Emily pressed her lips together. "She fainted because a native man had touched her. The servant was dismissed. And the lady, since then, has been unable to be left alone for five minutes."

"What a fool the woman must be!" Mariana exclaimed.

"Yes, she is a fool, because she gave in to fear." Miss Emily frowned. "Now, Mariana, you must must do as we say. Natives are very different from us, although most of the time I would not go so far as to call them 'savages' as some of our Englishmen do." do as we say. Natives are very different from us, although most of the time I would not go so far as to call them 'savages' as some of our Englishmen do."

Savages? Her dear old Munshi Sahib? Her irritating, clumsy, harmless Dittoo? Mariana opened her mouth to protest, then closed it.

"And now, my dear," Miss Emily continued, fixing her gaze on Mariana's face, "I understand you have taken an interest in Lieutenant Fitzgerald."

By now, everyone must know. Mariana felt herself blush.

Yesterday, returning to their grove of trees, she and Fitzgerald had talked animatedly of the intricacies of artillery drills, of the Afghan campaign, and of his uncle's estate in Suss.e.x, not ten miles from her own village. Alone together, they had kissed again. This time he had laid a hand on her breast. She fiushed, remembering the heat of it, and the longing it had aroused in her.

"I am sorry to say that we have had a bad report of him." Miss Emily p.r.o.nounced her words with care.

A bad report? Mariana smiled uncomprehendingly. "Miss Emily?" "It seems Lieutenant Fitzgerald jilted a young lady in Calcutta a year ago. He and the girl had been engaged for months when he broke it off with no explanation, leaving her to return, unmarried, to England." Miss Emily sighed. "He has very much blackened his name in Calcutta." She folded her gloved hands. "I am sorry, Mariana. I wish we had known this earlier."

On the elephant ahead of them, Mr. Macnaghten laughed loudly at something Major Byrne had said. Mariana clutched at the howdah railing. "Blackened his name? But Miss Emily, there must be some explanation. I cannot believe he would do such a cruel thing."

"It seems," Miss Emily continued, "that he did it after meeting a second second young lady with a greater fortune. young lady with a greater fortune. She She had the sense to refuse him. Since then, he has not been received in proper society. It was his good fortune that his regiment, where he was still popular, left Calcutta soon afterward to join this camp." had the sense to refuse him. Since then, he has not been received in proper society. It was his good fortune that his regiment, where he was still popular, left Calcutta soon afterward to join this camp."

Miss f.a.n.n.y nodded from her corner. "Of course it will not be long before the entire camp learns of this."

"But Miss Emily, Miss f.a.n.n.y, we must must hear his side of the story!" hear his side of the story!"

"No, Mariana." Miss Emily peered from the depths of her bonnet into Mariana's face. "It is too late for explanations." She sighed again. "Your connection to Fitzgerald must be severed. I am sure this is painful for you now, but, in time, you will be grateful."

In her mind's eye Mariana saw her father's grave face as he told her she was not to see her friend Jeremy again. How could this happen a second time? How could she be forbidden the only person she wanted, the only one in India whose presence gave her joy?

Miss Emily leaned forward. "You will not need to break off the friendship yourself," she added briskly. "I shall have a word with General Cotton. Fitzgerald's commanding officer will speak to him tomorrow morning. After that, he will not approach you again, you may be sure." She smiled kindly. "Do not worry, my dear. There are several suitable men in this camp with spotless reputations. I am sure one of them will make you very very happy." happy."

Miss f.a.n.n.y patted Mariana's knee. "My sister is right. Good looks are all very well, but they do not last. A kind heart and a sufficient income are what make a good husband."

"Miss Emily," Mariana declared as firmly as she was able, "I cannot sever my connection with the lieutenant until I have spoken to him myself."

"You may not not speak to him." Miss Emily drew herself up on her seat. "Believe me, my dear, men like Fitzgerald are great charmers, capable of getting young women like you into all sorts of trouble." speak to him." Miss Emily drew herself up on her seat. "Believe me, my dear, men like Fitzgerald are great charmers, capable of getting young women like you into all sorts of trouble."

Mariana's thoughts fiew to the grove of feathery trees, and Fitzgerald's hand on her breast. She could not bear the unfairness of this. She had come all the way from Weddington village to find everything exactly the same here as it was there.

Miss Emily pursed her lips. "And now, let us cease this unpleasant conversation. We have no need to speak of the young man again."

THE sky through Mariana's doorway seemed drained of color. In Suss.e.x, it would be cool and rainy. If she were wearing her blue striped gown there, she would need a hood for her cape when she and Fitzgerald drove to his uncle's house to be received as husband and wife.

She dipped her pen into her inkpot with a little stabbing gesture.

"As for me," she wrote to her mother, "I look constantly into my boxes to make sure nothing awful has happened to my gowns. Several of them are borrowed from ladies in Simla whom I hardly know, and I am terrified of losing or ruining one of them."

She wiped her pen. She could write no more of this drivel. Having saved her news about Fitzgerald until she was certain of him, she now had only her hurt and fury to report, and they were too painful to put on paper.

She thrust herself from her chair and paced to her bed, then fiung herself around and paced back to her desk. Then, she jerked open her trunk and pulled out her riding habit. "Dittoo," she called out, "get me a mare and two grooms."

THE little mare had been brought to her by a silent stranger, which meant she had been spared any further messages from the groom Yar Mohammad. That was a good thing. She did not think she could tolerate any more advice from soothsayers.

At the army camp, she rode toward the parade ground, aware that people were watching, that someone might report her to General Cotton. She did not care. Who was General Cotton anyhow but a fussy old man with a scarlet face and bushy sideburns, who sat beside Miss Emily at dinner?

Activity surrounded Mariana as she rode past rows of tents. Soldiers, both native and European, were polishing weapons and repairing uniforms. A team of bullocks hauled a gun carriage out of the way. English officers inclined their heads as she rode by.

She had circled the parade ground only twice before Fitzgerald rode toward her, waving, from between two tents.

At the sight of him, she began to perspire.

When he reached her side, smiling happily, she tried to smile in return, but could not.

"Is something wrong?" He studied her.

"Yes," she forced out, knowing she was about to ruin everything forever. "Miss Emily spoke to me this morning. There has been a bad report of you from Calcutta."

"What did she say?" His voice was level, but his knee jogged up and down on his saddle. "Did she say I had jilted someone, that I had ruined the girl's chance at marriage?"

Someone had lit a campfire nearby. The smell of burning wood reached them. Under her veil, Mariana's hair was sticking to her forehead. "Did you do it?" she asked.

"Yes. No." Fitzgerald looked away, then into her face. "I did not jilt her. I refused to marry her when I learned what she was. That is all."

That could not be all. Mariana bit her lip. "Please tell me what she did. You know I will believe you, Harry." She longed to touch him. Birds chattered in a nearby tree.

He shook his head. "What good would it do? The girl is ruined, and so am I." He stared past Mariana, into the distance. "I never thought her lies would reach all the way to the Punjab. Has Miss Emily told you not to see me again?"

Mariana took a shaky breath. "Your commanding officer will speak to you tomorrow morning."

Horses were approaching. Collecting herself, she nodded to two officers as they rode past, then turned back to Fitzgerald.

He looked so forlorn, his face averted, his shoulders sagging, that she stretched out a hand not caring about the consequences. "I am sure there was a reason for what you did. You don't need to tell me now," she added, when he did not respond. "I mean, we can meet tomorrow when n.o.body is-"

"I am an officer in the Bengal Native Artillery," he cut in harshly. "If I am ordered not to see you, I cannot disobey orders." He dropped his head into his hands. "Oh, G.o.d, why did they bring the army army into it?" into it?"

She must return to camp before they guessed where she had gone. "But," she asked, needing to know, her body steeled against his answer, "were you-would you have married me?" She twisted the reins in her fingers.

"Of course, Mariana." He kicked his horse. "Whatever did you think?" he added over his shoulder as he rode away.

SHE would not break her connection to Fitzgerald. She did not care what anyone said. As she dismounted angrily by her tent, a forceful, irritated voice came from beyond the red wall.

"I do not care in the slightest what the carpenters think," the loud voice declared. "The stairs will be erected there there, and they will be erected now now."

It sounded like Major Byrne.

"And," the voice continued, as flat as a file, "you will will find the stair carpeting and you find the stair carpeting and you will will have it nailed onto the stairs." have it nailed onto the stairs."

It was was Major Byrne. Mariana took off her riding hat and shook out her hair. Must he shout so, when her emotions were in such turmoil? Major Byrne. Mariana took off her riding hat and shook out her hair. Must he shout so, when her emotions were in such turmoil?

"And, Sotheby," the major added, "you are to make absolutely certain that the gifts are presented in their proper order. Repeat your instructions to me."

Stairs? Gifts? The durbar. Unable to resist eavesdropping, Mariana crossed to the red wall and looked through her hole in the canvas.

Major Byrne stood planted on the avenue, his back to her, addressing the White Rabbit, who stood at rigid attention. Across the avenue, a group of native workmen gestured at a stack of wooden boards.

"Yes, Major." The Rabbit's scarlet coat was stained with perspiration. When nervous, he tended to shout. He had talked so loudly when he sat beside Mariana at dinner that Miss f.a.n.n.y had kept her napkin in front of her mouth for most of the soup course.

Her eye to the hole, Mariana shook her head. How could the Eden sisters ever ever have imagined her marrying the White Rabbit? have imagined her marrying the White Rabbit?

"The portrait of Her Majesty," Sotheby yelled, "is to be given first, arrayed upon a velvet cushion-"

"Has the goldsmith returned the frame yet?" the major interrupted, tapping an impatient boot.

"The gold-"

"I certainly hope you told Johnston not to take his eyes off the jeweler while he set the diamonds into the picture frame." In order to interrupt Sotheby a second time, Major Byrne was obliged to raise his voice to a bellow. The carpenters stared. "They all all steal, you know. They must be watched every moment." steal, you know. They must be watched every moment."

"Sir, the frame is ready," Sotheby yelled, his eyes bulging out of his chinless face.

"Yes, yes. Go on, man, repeat your instructions." The major took out his watch. "I do not have all day."

At the sound of Dittoo's voice behind her, Mariana fiapped a hand for silence.

"Following the presentation of the smaller gifts, the two guns will be brought forward, and-"

"By G.o.d, Sotheby," the major bellowed from the avenue, "I most particularly told you that those howitzers are to be in place in place for presentation by the time the two elephant processions have met at the midpoint of the avenue, there." for presentation by the time the two elephant processions have met at the midpoint of the avenue, there."