The War Within

by Rosanne Hawke

  Finally, the sound of regular breathing came from Mrs Kumar’s bed and, in relief, we crept out of our warm quilts. Just before we reached the kitchen door, Sonya grabbed hold of my arm and whispered, her voice tense and raspy in the stillness of the room, ‘If I get parted from you, there will be no need to worry. Do you understand?’

  ‘That won’t happen.’ I tried to sound reassuring.

  ‘Please, just in case it does.’

  ‘Okay.’ I humoured her, because I knew it wouldn’t happen, not with Jasper in top form. For one of those split seconds, which seem longer in moments like that, I stared at her, marvelling at how she’d changed, and yet there seemed no reason for it. She seemed to trust that Jasper knew what he was doing. She hadn’t asked how we knew his plan either, nor questioned it. She was never with us whenever he visited, so maybe she assumed he told us personally.

  Liana was holding up reasonably well and I told Sonya to start. ‘You first. Remember what to do?’

  Sonya put on her burqa, ducked out the door like a blue ghost and scuttled into the outside toilet. The night watchman had just appeared from around the front, doing his rounds. He saw her, and he seemed satisfied that all was well. I grinned at Liana. Everything was going to plan. Sonya’s pretended moans of agony drifted back across the lawn. I checked my watch. Right now, while Sonya was keeping up the act, she would be pushing out the narrow high window that I’d loosened earlier that day. Then the plan was that she would heave herself up to squeeze through onto the wide stone wall. Jasper would be waiting below.

  I waited for the appointed five minutes before running for the outhouse in my burqa. I wasn’t as fortunate as Sonya. Jasper must have miscalculated the night watchman’s round, unless the man had cut it short for some reason, as halfway across the lawn I heard the command to stop. I turned to look around; I had no peripheral vision in the burqa. I could just make out the man’s form coming towards me. I measured the distance to the wall in front of me and decided it was too risky to run for it; Liana still had to come. I turned to face him fully, blinking at the glare as he lifted his lantern high. I wondered if he could see my eyes through the mesh. It was nerve-wracking—I never expected to be inspected through the burqa, but I said the words Jasper had taught us to say if we were stopped, ‘Peta kharab shuay. My stomach has a problem.’

  The chowkidar grunted and let me pass while he continued his beat around the grounds. I was hoping he thought Sonya had also been me; maybe the plan had worked so far, but I didn’t relax until I shut the toilet door behind me. The idea was to wait for Liana, to help her up. I peered out through a crack in the door and could just make out her shape leaning against the kitchen door frame. She was supposed to move five minutes after me, but she didn’t come. She was still there, leaning against the door. Then she missed the next round of the night watchman’s beat as well. Time was running out, but I didn’t dare call to her.

  Suddenly, I sensed rather than heard a movement in the house. Liana must have heard it for she ran out blindly—right into the arms of the chowkidar! I could hear his words as he spoke to her, but couldn’t understand, and I began to panic for I knew Liana didn’t speak much Pakhtu either. I opened the door a little, straining to see. She looked like a limp doll that was about to fold over any minute. The man shone the lantern peering at her as he did me, and I heard his sudden intake of breath. We didn’t look alike—her eyes were brown—surely he would know something was up. But he waved her on.

  n

  I opened the door wider. ‘Hurry, Li.’ My whisper sounded louder in my halfway state between fear and excitement. ‘We’ve lost time.’

  She sat down, out of breath. ‘It worked, Jaime. I think he thought we were all the same girl. Just like Jasper said he would.’

  I grunted. Privately I thought it was because, even in the burqa, she looked so sick. No one could mistake the stoop and faint moans that stomach cramps brought.

  ‘Oh,’ she groaned. ‘How am I going to get up there?’

  ‘It’ll be easy. ’ I said it with a confidence that I didn’t feel. ‘Here, give me your hand and I’ll pull you up. Hurry, the chowkidar might send a serving girl to check on you.’

  After many scratches and much grunting, Liana was sitting unsteadily on the wall beside me.

  ‘Jasper!’ I whispered into the dark below me. ‘We’re here. Take Li.’ I heard scraping on the wall and then his head and shoulders appeared, silhouetted against the skyline. He wore the wrapped turban of the men in the bazaar and for an instant I thought we’d been sprung.

  Then he spoke, ‘I hope she can ride.’

  ‘I’ll be okay,’ Liana said. ‘I’ll hold on tight.’

  ‘Make sure you do, and yell if you need to stop. Okay?’ Liana disappeared into the darkness as Jasper carried her to one of the horses.

  Soon, Jasper was helping me down. He had put rocks for stepping-stones at the base of the wall and as he stepped backwards, I felt him move slightly, as if he were losing his footing. For an instant before he steadied himself, I felt his weight come against me, pushing me to the safety of the wall. I guess that was when I first wondered where our childhood friendship might have ended up, if I hadn’t returned to Australia. He’d been angry lately, but it was good seeing him like this, with his aggression put to good use.

  Then I realised my feet were on the ground and I remembered in time to let go of Jasper’s neck. ‘Is that white horse for me?’ Even though the moon wasn’t out yet, I could see how special the animal was.

  Jasper was right behind me, speaking softly, so that I wondered if the moment on the wall had affected him as well. ‘I’m sorry about the colour—not such a good idea for a getaway at night, but the stable guy switched it at the last moment. Said the one I chose needed a new shoe. Didn’t think they fussed much about shoeing horses here, but there wasn’t time to argue. Think you can handle him?’

  ‘Sure. He’s awesome, like he’s dancing in the moonlight.’ I mounted (really difficult in a burqa) and leaned forward from the saddle to pat the side of the horse’s neck. ‘Hello, Moondancer.’ Little beads, bells and coins were threaded onto the bridle and when he tossed his head and stepped forward, the chinking of the ornaments beat out a rhythm that I hoped wouldn’t carry far in the night air.

  Jasper gave a low call to all three of us. ‘Let’s go. We need to be at this meeting place early.’

  There was little movement in the bazaar as we trotted through. All the shops were shuttered early during the winter months in villages like these and we didn’t draw attention from any of the few men walking home along the road. Jasper, dressed in tribal clothes with the turban wrapped around his head, looked just like any other Pakhtun riding out at night, and the burqas were an excellent disguise for us girls.

  Once on the road, we urged the horses into a canter, and the bushes and wispy trees, newly planted, steadily dropped behind. I prayed we wouldn’t find a mine. Surely they would be cleared from the roads first, but Uncle Jon had told me once that it was easy to miss a mine that had become buried over the years.

  Soon, drops of rain gave warning to pull the burqa over my face. I’d gratefully lifted it after we left the village. For a while, it seemed as if we were riding blindly. I could see Jasper’s shape in front of me but that was all. Liana was still holding on beside me and I couldn’t see Sonya.

  Then, as instantly as the rain began, there was a lull, and a break appeared in the clouds ahead. I could see Jasper glancing behind him. Surely no one could be following us in that weather. I guessed he was checking on us. I was thinking what a pity it didn’t rain more—maybe the drought would break.

  It seemed a long time before Jasper slowed his horse, and then I could hear the sound of trickling water. He seemed to know where we were headed. I pulled on the reins with a whinny from Moondancer as he shifted his feet and tossed his head. Jasper shouted and the wind whipped his words back
to us. ‘We won’t stay here. We’ll go up the ridge and wait for the guy.’

  What guy? I wondered, but it wasn’t the time to ask. Jasper would never hear me and I pulled Moondancer around to follow him. It was difficult encouraging the horses up the steep incline but finally we were standing above what would have been a sizable waterfall, if there wasn’t a drought. I could only see three horses as we tied them to the branches of some thick bushes, then suddenly, Sonya appeared on foot. I wanted to ask where her horse was, but Jasper began talking. ‘You girls need to stay here. I’ll scout around a bit, check where this guy is. Don’t show yourselves until I return or I call. Okay? Just in case there’s a problem.’

  I helped Liana down and we were sitting under one of the bushes when Jasper came to check on us before he left. ‘How’s the tum, Li?’

  ‘A bit better. The ride did me good, believe it or not.’

  Jasper bent down and touched my face. It was the kind of caress a guy gives a girl when he’s about to kiss her. Jasper didn’t kiss me, but it felt as if he had. I sat there in the cold, stunned, as I watched his shape shimmer out of sight.

  Growing up in a co-ed boarding school made you grow close to guys, but it was a closeness that was like family. It had to be like that, or you’d be falling for every guy you spent too much time with. Yet, it was weird how just one year away could break the cycle for me. I found myself thinking of Jasper the way any other girl in Australia would see him: good looking and interesting. I could see that he still cared, but I guessed it was the friendly type of comradeship we’d shared as kids. I was glad, for I thought we’d lost even that.

  I wished I could show him that I cared too. If only he was happier, but I knew that he was the one who had to let that happen. All I could do was accept him, moods and all.

  21

  Jasper

  The rain stopped and the wind began to die down. Jasper trudged up the slope, finding it difficult to see ahead. Nothing seemed unusual to him, and as far as he could tell, there was no jeep nestled anywhere. He was early—he’d planned it that way—yet he felt unnerved. He was on the windward side of the waterfall gully by then and knew the girls wouldn’t be able to hear him, even if he shouted, so he turned to go back, pausing to listen for sounds from the road below.

  Instantly, he sensed a presence. Was that a stone scattering? He whirled around, but he was too late! A body sprang out of the bushes with the force of a leopard, and hurled itself onto him. Jasper felt the jolt down his spine as his back slammed onto the stony ground. Jasper’s relief that it was not an animal was short-lived, for a man was soon astride him, holding him to the ground. Chest heaving, and fear giving him extra strength, Jasper strained to throw the man off. He wasn’t strong enough.

  Jasper pulled an arm free and hit out with his fist, hearing the man grunt as the blow must have smashed into his face. The man loosened his grip and it was all Jasper needed. With a roar, he flung his attacker back and threw himself on him. All the pent-up anger and frustration of the past weeks, even months, combined with an instinct to protect, drove him.

  The mist lifted and the two rolled over, down the rise, each trying to master the other. Rivulets of sweat ran down the inside of Jasper’s shirt. His heart pounded. He knew he had to win. If the guy was from the fort, even the girls would be in danger.

  In the clearing night mist, Jasper saw the glint of steel near his face. He felt sick as he thought he’d been close to overpowering the guy. But how could he fight against a knife? He hadn’t any experience with weapons. He knew by then the man had to be a militant. So this was how it would end. He’d heard what some militants did to their victims before they killed them. With that thought, Jasper struggled harder, trying to force the knife away, but his attacker’s grip was like iron. He could feel his arm being pushed down as the knife drew closer. He closed his eyes and felt the sharp point touch his neck.

  ‘I will not use this on you, my friend.’ From above him the words came between ragged breaths.

  Jasper’s eyes flew open. He hardly dared to believe his ears as he understood the familiar Pakhtu, and he strained to see into the darkness.

  ‘Sohail? You almost killed me!’

  ‘I did not,’ returned the other. ‘I had to stop you only. Talking to you does little good at all.’

  ‘Can you get off me? I can hardly breathe.’

  Sohail sheathed his knife, kneeling back from Jasper as the younger boy sat up, feeling his neck, and adjusting his eyes to the light and shadows that the rising moon was casting across the ground. Jasper didn’t need to see the way Sohail held himself to know he was still angry. He could feel it, as if he could reach into the air and touch it; yet he ventured a question.

  ‘How did you find me?’

  Sohail laughed but it was the mirthless response to a fool trying to be clever. ‘Do you think you could have left our village, if we did not let you go?’

  Jasper could see it then; it had been too easy, but still he asked, ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘We let the stable boy give you the horses. He valued his life too much not to tell me about your visit. Of course, I changed one of the horses for my white stallion so I could easily follow. I had to come after you. It was necessary—for Sonya’s safety. She had to escape, certainly, but not your way.’

  ‘But …’

  ‘Then I found out late tonight that you had been contacted by an agent.’

  ‘If you mean that guy at the party, you’re wrong. He’s a journalist.’

  ‘He was not what he said he was. They are very clever. He comes from Moscow.’

  ‘Are you sure?’ Even as he asked, Jasper was remembering the guy’s accent at the party. Come to think of it, he did sound like Sonya.

  ‘I am sure. About everything.’

  Jasper was very still. ‘And I gave Jaime’s bangle for those horses. All for nothing!’

  ‘I am sorry I could not retrieve your payment. The stable boy had already passed it on.’

  ‘Then I must get back to the girls.’

  Sohail’s tone was smooth, almost friendly again. ‘Do not worry. It has been taken care of—the man will not come. He is, at present, in our storeroom. Only Nazira knows he is there.’

  Jasper began remembering then; Sonya outside the walls, meeting someone; Sonya in Islamabad, in the embassy car. ‘I don’t get this—what’s going on? Who is Sonya, anyway?’

  Sohail sat still for so long that Jasper thought he hadn’t heard. ‘Sonya had to escape to show she was not one of us,’ he finally said. ‘It would have saved her life. But this man you spoke to—he would say he caught her working for us. He used you as jackal bait, my friend. Tonight he would have ambushed you, and Sonya would have been in danger. She would be guilty in their eyes.’

  It was just a riddle to Jasper. His head spun as he tried to piece Sohail’s words into logical threads. When they wouldn’t make a pattern, he thought the Pakhtun must have invented it so they wouldn’t make the rendezvous.

  ‘It is not just Sonya,’ Sohail carried on. ‘What do you think would have happened to the other girls? Jaime looks so like Sonya that these men would have shot her as well to be sure they got the right one.’ Maybe Sohail sensed Jasper’s confusion and disbelief because he explained further.

  ‘These times are difficult. The rest of the world thinks we have been given our freedom, but there is no peace. Everyone is still fighting. The West thinks they are helping this party and that one; they provide money, arms, even men to find out secrets. The secret is passed on but it has already been bought for a higher price.’

  ‘I don’t—’

  ‘And you …’ Sohail bent closer and regarded Jasper in the rising moonlight. ‘These are dangerous times. Why did you not think? Why did you not ask from Khuda His will? You would have been told it was foolish to trust such a man. You were leading those girls to certain death!’r />
  ‘H–how can you say that? You’re a Muslim. That’s not your kind of prayer, is it?’

  Sohail smiled. At least Jasper thought it was a smile; he could see white shining in Sohail’s face.

  ‘Ji, you are right, I am Muslim. I will never turn my back on hundreds of years of customs and a certain way of living, but I know Isa Masih died and lived again and, because of this, I know the heart of Khuda. I know His will if I ask it. He speaks to me.’

  ‘You’re a secret believer,’ whispered Jasper, astounded at Sohail’s strength of conviction. He wished he had the same faith.

  ‘You may call me what you will. My parents know—my father is not radical in his beliefs as some are.’

  ‘How did you hear about Isa?’ Even though he didn’t want to, Jasper felt the interest rise in him.

  ‘I heard it from a man called Pembley Sahib—your father. It seems he did not tell you much!’

  Jasper was suddenly miserable. ‘No, he did tell me. When I was small, I knew it all; why I was, how God cares for each one of us. But when I got older … well, when Dad died—’

  It was as if Sohail knew what he was thinking, and he cut in, even angrier than before. ‘You are a fool! A hundred camels should kick you! You had everything, yet you gave it up for this feeling of self-pity? It is the jinns that bring such thoughts as these. So, you are angry with Khuda because he took something precious away. He is the creator of everything.’ He stood and spread his arms, then pointed back at Jasper. ‘Do you not think he has a right to take away anything he wishes and have good reason for doing so? Who are you—a mosquito—that you argue with the ruler of the stars and planets?’