'Yet he accepts you as an adviser?'
To an army of seventy-five men. A political gesture only. In Pekin they laugh about it.'
She almost mentioned Mr. Cheung, but remembering what Drummond had told her on the previous evening, kept silent Even if Hamid did know the troth, that Cheung was in fact a Chinese Nationalist agent, that Drummond was flying in guns to Tibetan guerrilla fighters, he would probably prefer to know nothing officially. Remembering Vietnam, she sighed heavily..The same pattern, violence, blood and suffering turning on each other in a circle that had no ending.
They were flying at no more than a thousand feet above the floor of the valley and suddenly, in a bend of the river, she saw Sadar, flat-roofed houses scattered untidily across a broad plateau, the Khan's palace like a fortress in a walled garden.
The Beaver banked tightly and swept in past the graceful tower of a mosque, and beyond the town on the plain to the south she could see the airstrip, a narrow slot laboriously carved out of the rough terrain, a windsock on a tall pole at one end. Dnimmond circled once then turned into the wind for a perfect landing between two rows of empty oil drums.
There was a small improvised hangar constructed of lusting corrugated iron, barely large enough to house the Beaver from the look of it He taxied towards it and switched off the engine.
He unfastened Ms seat belt jumped to the ground and turned to give Janet a hand. At the same moment, & Land Rover appeared from among the houses on the edge of the town and came towards them in a cloud of dust
She shivered and wrapped her sheepskin coat more tightly around her. 'It's colder than I thought it would be/
"Winter coming,' Drummond said. 'Maybe it'll be early this year.'
An old army jeep, still painted in the grey-green camouflage of wartime, its canvas tilt patched and mended in many places, was parked inside the hangar. He and Hamid had just started to transfer the luggage to it from the plane when the Land Rover arrived.
Mr. Cheung jumped out of the passenger seat and came towards them wearing a heavy blue quilted jacket and an astrakhan hat His driver was a young fair-haired man with a bronzed, reckless face. He wore a sheepskin jacket in untanned hide and knee-length boots. A revolver, slung low on his right hip in a black holster, seemed theatrical and out of place.
He came forward with a ready smile, eyes fixed oa Janet, and Hamid said maliciously,.Why the gun, Tony? Expecting trouble?'
The young man flushed. Tm driving up to my base camp at Howeel for a couple of days. They'd cut your throat for the shoes on your feet up there. Fve come for that new theodolite I ordered if Drussmond's remembered to bring it.
It's in the plane/ Drummond said coldly..Help yourself..
'So this is Miss Tate?. Cheung took both of her hands in his..We must try to make your stay a pleasant one..
"You knew I was coming?.
Hamid grinned. 'I had Indian Army Headquarters in Juma send a signal to warn the Khan.'
Cheung nodded. 'Colonel Dil got the message last night by radio..
'And probably told you before the Khan..
Brackenhurst jumped down from the Beaver and turned to lift out a wooden case containing his theodolite. 'A hell of a lot of machine parts you seem to bring through these days,' he commented and turned to Janet before Drummond could reply. Tm Tony Bracken-
S3 burst, Miss Tate. Fm doing geological survey work up here, but I'm also the British Consul. If I can help you in any way, don't hesitate to ask..
'She happens to be an American, so that's hardly likely,' Drummond said acidly.
Brackenhurst ignored him, holding her hand for longer than was necessary, an eager smile on his lips, and it was the smile which betrayed him, somehow revealing an essential weakness, a lack of strength.
"Why, that's very kind of you, Mr. Brackenhurst'
Til be back in two days,' he said. "You'll probably still be here from what they tell me of the boy's condition.'
He carried the theodolite across to the Land Rover and Cheung said quickly, Til go back with him. You'll have enough in the jeep with the three of you and the luggage. You'll call on me this afternoon, Jack?'
'After lunch. I'll take Janet out to the mission first Is the boy still out there?'
Cheung nodded and smiled down at her. 'And you, I will have the pleasure of seeing you again this evening, Miss Tate. The Khan is to give a small dinner party for you. He has honoured me with an invitation.'
Til look forward to that, Mr. Cheung.'
The Land Rover moved back towards town and Drummond drove the jeep out of the hangar. He and Hamid pushed the Beaver inside and padlocked the door.
Tfl take Janet out to Father Kerrigan now. What about you, Ali?'
Hamid shrugged. 'You can drop me at Colonel Dil's headquarters. I'll probably see you both tonight at the palace unless the old boy's decided to change his usual guest list'
They got into the jeep and Drummond drove towards the town, following the rutted track that did service as a road. He changed down, scattering a herd of goats, and they entered the outskirts of Sadar.
Janet looked about her with interest, but there was nothing of the gaiety and colour of Jusna and Altaf here. The people were small, squat Mongolians with skins the colour of weathered parchment and slanting eyes. The men wore boots of untanned hide, baggy trousers and sheepskin jackets. Only a few sported the turban, the majority preferring conical sheepskin caps with earfiaps. The women's attire differed in only one significant detail. Instead of the sheepskin jacket, they wore three-quarter length blanket coats of black and brovra, relieved in some cases by a necklace of silver coins.
They were dour and unsmiling, drab as the rocky land that bred them. Even the children in the market place lacked the energy and humour of their Indian counterparts, and there was a strange absence of bustle and vitality as they drove through the bazaar.
'No oae seems to smile,' Janet said. 'Have you noticed that?'
This is a poor country,' Hamid told her. "Anything they get has to be squeezed out of the very rocks. Life is hard, work from dawn till dusk. It leaves little time for laughter/
Across the square stood a barrack-like building, the Sag of Balpur, a black eagle against a grey and gold background, lifting in the slight breeze above the entrance. Two sentries, almost incongruously smart in neat khaki uniforms and military turbans, presented arms as Drummond braked and Hamid got out.
He reached for his canvas grip and an orderly ran down the steps and relieved him of it TH see you tonight, then,. he said and his hand lifted in a brief salute.
The palace was a hundred yards further on and looked considerably less forbidding than it had done from the air, wrought iron gates standing open to reveal a gravel drive, tall cypress trees fringing the wall, a profusion of greenery beyond to where a fountain lifted gracefully into the calm air.
'I must say that looks rather more inviting,. Janet remarked.
'Not surprising,' Drummond said. The Khan's a Muslim, remember. At least they know how to live.'
'What's the religion of his people generally?'
'A lot pay lip service to Islam and a great many still adhere to Buddhism, but in a bastardised form. And then there's a minority group of Hindus who've kept themselves apart over the centuries. Not more than two or three thousand in the entire country.'
They were by now moving out of the town again and the houses were more scattered, two-storeyed walled villas in the main, obviously the homes of the rich of Sadar, whoever they were.
Drummond slowed, swung the jeep in through an arched entrance and braked to a halt in the courtyard of a small bungalow surrounded by a walled garden.
'This is my place,' he said. 'If you don't mind hanging on, I'll drop my things and be straight out again,'
As he got out, a small, greying woman, swathed ia a dark robe, her face seamed and wrinkled, opened the front door and moved out on to the verandah inclining her head in greeting, hands together, Indian style.
'Your hou
sekeeper?' Janet asked.
He nodded and reached for his canvas holdalL 1 won't be a minute.'
'Mind if I come in?' she said. Td love to see inside.'
He hesitated perceptibly and then shrugged. If you'd like to, but there really isn't much to see.'
She followed him up the steps. At the top, he murmured something quickly to the old woman who went back in, then stood to one side. 'After you.'
She found herself in a narrow entrance hall with rough cast walls and a floor of polished wood. He opened a door to the right and she moved iato the main living room. There was a great stone fireplace, skin rugs on the wood floor and the furniture was of the simplest; a dining table, several easy chairs and a couple of shelves of books.
Til be with you in a minute,' Drammond said and he crossed the room and went through another door.
She walked slowly around the room, examining everything and paused at the bookshelves. There was a small figurine of a dancer on the table beneath, carved from some dark wood of incredible hardness. She picked it up and examined it closely. The breasts were of a ripeness that was almost lifelike, hands extended in a ritualistic pose, the unsmiling, grave face fixed for all eternity. There was a slight sound from behind and she swung round and found a woman steading in the doorway to the hall.
Like the old housekeeper she was an Indian, but quite young with a pale, flawless complexion, set off to perfection by her scarlet sari. There was a silver rope necklace around her neck, gold bracelets on the wrists and her dark eyes were rimmed with kohL
In that same moment, Drummond came in from the bedroom. He said something quietly ia Urdu and die girl turned at once and disappeared into the halL
'Who was that?' Janet said.
"The old girl's daughter, Famia.' He took the figurine gently from her hands. 'You Hkr
.Yes, is it very old?' she replied automatically.
'Greco-Buddhist. Probably second century. You'll find things like this all over Balpur. As I said before, Buddhism used to be very strong up here, real Buddhism, I mean. Monasteries all over the place.'
'Are there any left?'
'One or two.' He glanced at his watch. We'd better get moving. It's almost eleven o'clock and Father Kerrigan holds his daily surgery at half-past. We'll try and catch him before it starts.'
They went out to the jeep and he handed her in and drove away as if nothing had happened. But things were not the same and there was a constraint between them that had not been present before.
Janet remembered the girl, her shapely body, the pale beauty of her skin against the scarlet sari, and a burning anger took possession of her that she found impossible to analyse.
The mission was on a hill above the river. It was a long, low, flat-roofed building, walled in by grey stone, as seemed to be the custom with all houses in this stark country, and the tiny belfry of a small chapel reared above it
Flocks of goats, sheep and a few small horses grazed on the sparse grass at the entrance, and thirty or forty people waited patiently, squatting on the ground or leaning against the wail
As Drummond slowed the jeep to drive through, Janet leaned out, her trained eye quickly taking in the evidence of disease. Rickets and ringworm in the children, old people with faces eaten away by yaws, eyes encrusted with dried pus and, here and there, a broken limb held awkwardly in a crude bandage.
.He doesn't handle all this on his own? she demanded, turning to Drummond as they drove in through the entrance and braked at the bottom of a flight of stone steps.
He switched off the engine and nodded. Don't ask me how, but he does. Has an old woman to do the cooking, but that's all. Here she comes now..
The woman who opened the front door and came out into the porch had the same ageless Mongolian face as the people in the market place, but wore a long cotton skirt and an Indian Army issue khaki sweater with cloth epaulets. The red scarf around her head and gold ear-rings made her look like a gypsy.
Drummond went up the steps with Janet's two cases, put them down and spoke to her in slow, careful English. He came back down the steps and took Janet's arm.
'He's in the chapel.
They crossed the courtyard to the tiny, grey-stone building, he opened the heavy wooden door and they went inside. The lights were very dim, and down by the altar the candles flickered and the statue of the Holy Mother seemed to float out of the darkness.
Father Terence Kerrigan knelt in prayer, his rugged, stubborn old Irish face momentarily relaxed, almost childlike in its purity, his white hair gleaming like silver. When he crossed himself and got to his feet, she saw that he was a big man, built like a tree with shoulders as wide as Hamld's.
He turned, narrowing his eyes short-sightedly when he saw them there la the shadows and came forward' with a ready smile.
'Jack, is it yourself, and this will be Miss Tate?' He took her hands in his, holding them tightly. 'It's good to see you here, my dear. I got word from Colonel Dil that you were coming in today. He bad a message last night from AH Hamid over the radio.'
1 feel like a fraud, Father/ she said. 'I believe you were expecting a doctor.'
'Nonsense, my dear, a qualified nursing sister with two years' experience in Vietnam fefugee camps will do for me any day of the week.' He chuckled at her astonishment, 'Major Hamid is always most thorough.'
They crossed the courtyard, mounted the steps and went inside. The entrance hall had been turned into a dispensary, the stone walls whitewashed, drugs, medicines and equipment neatly arranged on white-painted shelves giving an overall impression of cleanliness and efficiency.
'This is where most of the work is done and as I'm the only qualified doctor in Balpur the pace is usually fast and furious.' He glanced at his watch. 'You'll see for yourself in precisely fifteen minutes.'
'What about my patient?' Janet asked.
'Kerim?. the old man sighed. 'Frankly, he's aot been too marvellous. He's been staying here, of course, so that I can give him constant supervision. The Elian wanted me to take up residence at the palace, but naturally, I had to refuse. As I pointed out, I do have-other patients.'
'And how is Kerim now?
'Rather better. He's been very feverish, but we seem to be over the worst of that now. In any event, I think we should wait for a few days before contemplating such a long journey.'
'So Janet stays here?' Drummond said.
'If she can put up with a crotchety old fool.' Father Kerrigan smiled. 'Would you like to take a peep at Kerim?'
He led the way through into a narrow whitewashed
€0 passage and opened a door on the left. The boy looked very frail as he slept, head turned to one side on the white pillow, a heavy bandage crossing his left eye and they withdrew softly.
The priest opened the opposite door and ushered her into a small room, simply furnished with a narrow bed and wooden locker. The one touch of luxury was a large sheepskin rag on the floor. A french window opened on to a verandah overlooking an overgrown and neglected garden.
"The best I can do, I'm afraid,' he said apologetically.
'A palace compared to what I was used to in, Vietnam.'
They returned to the dispensary and found Drum-mond standing at the door looking outside. The courtyard had filled with people, all squatting together in the dust, waiting patiently for the old priest to begin.
He took out his watch again and pursed his lips. 'Five minutes late. This will never do. I'll have to say goodbye for now, Jack. We'll be seeing you tonight at the palace, I imagine.'
'I expect so.'
Drummond turned to Janet, but she was touching Father Kerrigan on the arm as he moved away. 'Could I help, Father?'
The old man looked down at her searchingly and then a slow smile broke across his face. Td be glad to have you, my dear. I'll find you a robe.'
She nodded briefly to Drummond. 'See you tonight, Jack.'
She turned away, different now, holding herself straighter, competent, assured. She and the old man stood
at the back of the dispensary, talking as she pulled on the white robe he had found for her, a strange intimacy between them.
Drummond turned abruptly, pushed his way through flie crowd, climbed into the jeep and drove quickly away.
Dinner at the Palace
THROUGH the French windows, the white balustrade of the terrace shimmered palely and the tall cypress trees were silhouetted against the evening sky. From the garden came the timeless, incessant chirping of the crickets.
Inside, the soft lamplight gleamed oa delicate crystal decanters and silver and gold tableware, and the great ruby in the centre of the Khan's turban glowed dimly like an ember stirred by a soft wind.
Jack Higgins - Iron Tiger Page 5
