Coromandel!

by John Masters

  For three days they crept through the jungles, eating what berries they could find. On the fourth day, when shimmering rocks and ghostlike trees stretched for ever around her, Jason said, ‘A road!’

  The ground sloped down beneath her feet, and she went carefully. Soon she told Jason she smelled water. He said, ‘There, a trickle, along the side of the road.’ They knelt and drank, and when she had had enough she stood up and looked around. The blurred foreground gave way to the focused distance. They were standing on the lip of an escarpment, and to the north the land spread away in a wide plain scattered with hummocky hills. In the middle distance a white city shone in the plain, and beside it she saw the silver flash of a river.

  Jason dabbed water on the inflamed sore on her arm and muttered, ‘I’m tired. How are you? I wonder how far the city is?’ She could not guess. Jason said, ‘Ten miles, at least.’

  She smiled at him and said cheerfully, ‘I can walk ten miles.’ He said, ‘You’re as strong as a horse. But you’ll need some real food before you can hope to walk that far in this heat.’ The tone of his voice refreshed her. When she held the knife under his heart she had done something more than prevent him from joining Mansur’s band. Jason respected her now--for the wrong reasons, to be sure--and took extra care of her, as though to prove that in spite of her strength of will she still needed him.

  After a moment he said, ‘Someone’s coming from the south. They’ve gone into a dip now, and I can’t see them. They must have some food.’

  She said, ‘Give me the pistol.’ She held out her hand. Jason had forsworn robbery, but hunger knew no law.

  He said, ‘But, Catherine, it’s empty.’

  She said, ‘Give it to me, dear. They might think you were going to threaten them. Perhaps they are as hungry as we.’ Grumbling, he handed over the pistol, and she threw it far into the scrub. Jason said, ‘I can see them again now. They’re less than a quarter of a mile away. Two--four--five, with three horses and a donkey.’ A long pause. She felt him stiffen beside her. He whispered, ‘The man in front is wearing a blue robe.--He rides like ‘ His hand grabbed hers, and he said, ‘Mansur! Quick, back into the jungle.’

  In the shelter of the trees thirty yards from the road he said, ‘Can you run?’

  She said, ‘Not easily. Could they have seen us?’

  Jason’s voice steadied. He said, ‘We were in the shade. They might not have noticed us. We’ll hide here. Why did you throw my pistol away?’

  She said, ‘They know it isn’t loaded.’

  Then they crouched together and held their breathing to silence until the travellers passed by from south to north along the road. Jason whispered, ‘Mansur Khan--looking nervously from side to side! The treacherous swine! God’s blood, our donkey! They’ve got our donkey.’

  Then they waited another half-hour before they crept out to look up and down the road. Jason cried, ‘They’ve gone, Catherine! They’re going to the city! There will be a king or a rajah there, or perhaps a Mogul governor like the one they had in Sagthali. God’s blood, he’s not going to get away with our donkey. Hurry!’

  They began to walk quickly north, Jason keeping a careful eye on the dust and the now frequent muddy patches, for signs of Mansur’s party. She thought: It isn’t our donkey, because we stole it. Why are we so anxious to get it back?

  She spoke to Jason, and he snapped, ‘I don’t care whose donkey it is. You’re the one who didn’t want me to rob because it’s wicked. You can’t tell me now not to get Mansur punished. Why, he’s--he’s the wickedest man I’ve ever met.’

  She said slowly, ‘Yes, but--‘ She was still afraid but didn’t want to tell Jason so.

  When they came to the outskirts of the city she unfastened a gold mohur from the corner of her skirt, and they ate quickly, and Jason found out that the name of that place was Kishanpur and its ruler a rajah called the Rawan. Close to the eating-house the square bulk of the Rawan’s fortress-palace rose against the evening sky, and they saw the river behind it, and tall trees in a garden under the north wall, and beyond the river the rolling, rising carpet of jungle.

  ‘Are you ready?’ he asked.

  Now she had thought of a reason with which to cloak her reasonless fear. She said, ‘But, Jason, are you sure that you want to complain to the Rawan? There may be trouble. He may keep us here. Is it worth it, just for revenge?’

  He said, ‘It’s not for revenge. We can’t leave Mansur free to murder more travellers when we can so easily have him caught and punished. Besides, why should there be trouble?’ She said, ‘I don’t know, but I think there-may be.’ Then her heart softened because what Jason said was true and right, and she smiled at him and said, ‘But we must go.’

  Soon the shadow of the huge eastern wall of the fort towered over her and then she saw yellow, moving, and a flash of steel, and behind that a black tunnel. A voice said, ‘What do you want?’

  Jason muttered, ‘It’s the sentry at the gate.’ He began to explain in slow Urdu that they wished to see the Rawan or his chamberlain. The soldier said, ‘You can’t go in now. The hour of public audience is long past.’ He paused, and his voice became sly. He said, ‘I’d get into trouble if I let you in.’

  She knew he wanted a bribe. She slipped him a handful of small coins and heard the chink-chink as he counted them. He said gruffly, ‘Go on in, then.’

  Jason said, ‘But who should we ask for?’

  The soldier said, ‘What do I care? What is your business?’ Jason said, ‘We fell in with a gang of murderers on the road, but by chance we escaped. Their chief is in the town now and can be caught. His name is Mansur Khan.’

  The soldier’s spear flashed, and he said in a changed voice, ‘Oh!’

  He shouted, ‘Ohé, within!’ More yellow blobs floated out of the tunnel and surrounded them. The sentry said, ‘These people escaped from a band of murderers. The leader of the band was called Mansur Khan, they say.’

  The other soldiers said, ‘Oh, do they?’ Hands seized her, a sword-point pricked her. The soldiers hurried her into the black tunnel. It must be the entry port. They crossed a courtyard where a fountain tinkled, and stumbled down into a passage below the earth. Jason kept shouting, ‘What’s this? What have we done?’ But the hurrying yellow blobs only said, ‘Hold your tongue!’ and when he began to struggle she said, ‘Save yourself, dear.’

  They were pushed into a dark place. The door slammed, the bolts grated. They stood alone in deep blackness under the fort. After a time she heard the river chuckling and whispering above their heads, beyond the walls of their dungeon. She smelled rats and mildew and old blood. Jason said, ‘They’ve taken my knife.’

  Much later men came down the passage, the door opened, and she blinked in the strong glare of hand torches. There were five yellow blobs among the torches, one with white below and a wavering black sail above. That must be his hat. This man said, ‘Stand up.’ They stood slowly, holding hands. She remembered what Jason told her had happened in Ponpalamai. She ran her finger along the top of his missing nail. Not again!

  The man in the hat said, ‘I am the dewan of this kingdom. You are foreigners? From where?’

  Jason said, ‘I am from England, this girl from Portugal. Why have we been--?’

  The man said, ‘The Rawan wishes to see you. He has never seen a foreigner.’ He spoke a word to the soldiers, who dragged Jason and Catherine into the passage. Then they climbed up many stairs but never saw daylight, and she knew it was night.

  The soldiers thrust them through gold gauze, and she saw black and yellow, and moving yellow and white above it, and another black sail-hat, and ranks of yellow and steel on either hand, and pale red sandstone walls in the distance.

  There was a long silence. At length a cold voice spoke. ‘What skills have you?’

  Jason said, ‘I can dance.’

  A single point of white fire, ringed with red, blazed in the black sail in front of her and moved as the hat moved. It must be an immense diamond in
a ruby setting.

  The voice said, ‘Dance? Pah! Can you build the European guns? Make powder?’

  Jason said, ‘No, lord, but--‘

  A diamond in a ruby setting--only one! But she had seen two, in a smoky corner behind a curtain, in the Sagthali serai.

  The voice said, ‘They are useless to us. The woman is not beautiful. Kill them.’ The yellow ranks broke; they seized her and began to drag her out. She pulled against them and said quietly, ‘That is a bright jewel in your hat, lord. Where is its twin?’

  The voice said sharply, ‘Stay! This jewel has no twin, woman. It is unique.’

  She said, ‘Lord, I am nearly blind. I can see only a point of white light, surrounded by red. But in Sagthali I became friendly with a dancer who was travelling with us. She showed me her jewels. Those she valued most were a pair of brooches, each a great diamond in a ruby setting. May I look at the jewel in your hat?’

  The voice said, ‘Yes.’

  She stepped forward, her eyeglass in her hand. She examined the brooch carefully, although a single glance was enough. It was one of the old dancer’s pair. Then, while pretending to look at the brooch, she studied the man who was wearing it. He had thin lips and hooded brown eyes, and a thin face. This was a hard man, dedicated to power.

  She lowered her glass and said, ‘It is one of the pair belonging to the dancer.’

  The sail-hat turned; the cold voice said, ‘Is the jemadar in the palace?’

  The dewan said, ‘Yes, lord.’

  ‘Fetch him.’

  Then they waited, and there was no sound in the room but the scratch-scratch of someone’s long fingernails on damask cushions.

  She heard footsteps coming from behind. Jason cried, ‘Lord, that is the chief of the murderers! Mansur Khan!’

  She bowed her head in pain. She wanted Jason to have this kind of simple, foolish trust--but how bitter must be the taste of these endless draughts of disillusion! She had allowed him to come to the Rawan, believing he would find justice here--and the Rawan was the master, or at least the accomplice, of Mansur’s murderous gang.

  She heard Jason’s sharp intake of breath and his whispered ‘No!’ as he realized the truth. The Rawan was saying, ‘Mansur, this woman has shown me proof that you kept back another brooch, such as this that I am wearing. And also ten thousand rupees in gold bars.’

  ‘Ten thousand rupees!’ Mansur exclaimed nervously. ‘Lord, there was no such sum. We took no gold at all.’

  ‘And the brooch?’ the Rawan said.

  ‘Only the one, lord.’

  The Rawan said, ‘Give him the red-hot iron.’

  Mansur cried, ‘There may have been another brooch, lord. I will cause a search to be made. My men sometimes hide things from me, in spite of their oath. I will go and search all their belongings.’

  ‘Bring me the brooch and the ten thousand rupees, in gold, by dawn,’ the Rawan said.

  Feet hurried out. She thought: This Rawan is as ruthless as Mansur, but cleverer--and it is he who now holds our lives in his hand. But he is greedy too.

  The Rawan said, ‘For two hundred years we’ve been trying to find a way of making sure that those deceivers give us the agreed share of what they take. It is time you solved the problem.’

  Catherine’s mind raced. Greedy, ruthless--greedy!

  The dewan stammered, ‘W-why--yes, lord. But it is very difficult. What is to be done with the foreigners now?’

  The Rawan said, ‘Kill them. Why don’t we send an officer with every band while it is in the kingdom?’

  Again the soldiers were dragging her out of the room, and Jason with her. She heard Jason beginning to struggle, and the gasps of the soldiers wrestling with him. She said, ‘Lord, in my man’s waistband there is a greater treasure than any Mansur has taken.’

  When the Rawan spoke she heard a thin warmth of respect in his voice. He said, ‘Show me.’

  She took the folded map from its hiding-place in the top of Jason’s loincloth and held it out. The Rawan said, ‘Paper! Do you want to have a dose of the thumbscrew before you die?’ She said, ‘It is a map, lord. We are following it to find a hidden treasure.’

  ‘How much?’

  ‘Countless.’

  The paper rustled. The voice said, ‘Can you read it?’ The paper rustled again for a longer time. The dewan said, ‘No, lord.’

  The Rawan said, ‘You can read it, woman?’

  She said, ‘Yes, lord.’

  The Rawan said, ‘Kill the man, then.’

  She said, ‘Lord, there is a part that only he can read.’

  The room echoed with a sudden and surprisingly pleasant chuckle. The yellow ranks stirred; everybody murmured with laughter. The Rawan said, ‘You will have to divide your share with him--you realize that? There are plenty of strong men in my kingdom. Are you sure you can’t read the map without his help?’

  She said, ‘Without him it is impossible.’

  The Rawan said, ‘Why did you not say you were skilled in diplomacy when I asked you? I do not need dancers. I have hundreds of them. You shall both live. Answer me one question, and you shall live well. You shall be a secret councillor. Publicly this clod of a husband of yours must be the councillor, because you are a woman. This is the question. How can I prevent Mansur’s deceivers from deceiving me?’

  She said, ‘Lord, you will gain greater wealth by preventing them from stealing and killing. Your subjects will grow rich. More travellers will pass through your kingdom, spending their money as they go. More--‘

  Beside her, Jason laughed shortly and said, ‘Lord, she is a woman. You should indeed prevent them from robbing and killing in your kingdom. And your people will grow rich just as she says. You should give these murderers land, to each a portion according to his skill--but tell them to rob only in the territories of your neighbours, not in yours. Promise to protect them. Then they will rob on all sides of Kishanpur, and, because they can quickly find sanctuary here, they need not pay any part to the kings of the lands surrounding yours. You will get a larger share.’

  ‘A marvel!’ the Rawan said slowly, and the jewel flashed in his hat.

  She caught hold of Jason’s arm and cried in English, ‘Don’t! This is worse than stealing with your own hands! Oh, my love, don’t be bitter. There are people in the world you can trust.’

  But Jason went on relentlessly. ‘Don’t ask a percentage, lord. They will always cheat. Charge them a flat sum for the sanctuary--a good large sum. Then let them keep all they make.’

  ‘A miracle!’ the Rawan said.

  ‘In the winter they will go out to work on the roads. For the rest of the year employ them as tax collectors for yourself. They will know where rich men hide their money while pretending to be poor.’

  The black hat rose slowly, the jewel twinkled. ‘By my ancestors, this is wisdom such as I have never heard! My friend, you shall be head of my council, and the woman shall be second. Can you think of anything else?’

  Jason said, ‘Not now, lord. Later I will.’

  She shook herself wearily. She’d think of some way to escape this fate soon. Now she must keep her wits. She said, ‘Prince, make Mansur give us back our donkey and our books and clothes. And my lord’s knife your men have taken.’

  The Rawan said, ‘It shall be done. Show them to a good chamber.’

  She said, ‘Prince--the map?’

  The Rawan said, ‘I will take good care of it. Is it really genuine?’

  Jason said, ‘No,’ and Catherine said, ‘Yes,’ simultaneously.

  The Rawan said, ‘Ah! He is apt to be a little over-cunning, is he? He would like me to think it is not really of any value--now that his neck is safe? Well, well. Is this treasure on my lands, or on the lands of my revered Moslem overlord, the Grand Mogul?’ He spat.

  She said, ‘It is beyond your lands.’

  The Rawan said, ‘Then we shall have to be careful. And how am I going to be sure that you bring back all you find?’ Catherine said, ‘Send an
officer with us. Send Mansur Khan.’ The Rawan cried, ‘Magnificent! I have gained a diamond brooch, ten thousand rupees in gold--and two priceless pearls. You shall set out in seven days.’

  The yellow ranks broke up. Hands took her, but gently now, and led her out. They went slowly, one behind the other, along the passages. A yellow coat fussed along in front, murmuring, ‘This way, lord. Mind the step. Turn to the right here, ma’am.’

  Jason said, ‘Now I’m a great man again!’ He laughed harshly. ‘A great man! No one will laugh at me for a time now.’

  She said desperately, ‘You promised never to steal again.’

  ‘Steal? I’m not going to steal,’ he said. ‘Not one whoreson farthing! I’m going to see that no one steals. I’m going to stop Mansur from stealing, and Mansur is going to keep rich men out of the temptation not to pay their proper taxes. Look at this beautiful room we are getting.’

  The officer had thrown back the curtains covering a heavy door. They were looking into a light and luxurious apartment with three wide windows. The moon was high, and she saw the river far below, and across the river the moonlit waves of the jungle. She was exhausted, and the pain of Jason’s bitterness overwhelmed her. She sank slowly, trembling, on to the divan.

  After a moment Jason came to her, and she felt his hand on her forehead and heard his unsteady voice. ‘I’m sorry, Catherine. But what else can I do? Perhaps, after all, I am the same sort of person that they are.’

  Jason let go of her hands and shouted, ‘Hey!’ and the dance ended.

  She sat down, panting, on the divan. It was exhausting, this wild English dance, when you were not used to it. But she could have danced all day and all night with him, if he would let her. He was a good teacher, too, patient and skilful. She felt that he had come immeasurably closer to her since the night she drew his knife on him. He was not happy; he had not lost his bitterness; he had not regained his wonder or his innocence or his trust in the map--all of which she hoped would come together; but, slowly and hesitantly, he was finding her. These dancing lessons, which he had suddenly instituted the day after they reached here, were an indication.