“No, sir. He’s too sick, he’s staying at court.”
“Where did they put the princess? In his harem?”
“Oh no, sir!”
“Could you show us her room?”
The Indian’s eyes widened.
“Why do you ask?” he said.
Sandokan pulled his chair closer to the Indian’s and put his lips to the young man’s ear.
“I’m the young woman’s brother,” he whispered.
“You, sahib?”
“You mustn’t tell anyone if you wish to earn twenty rupees.”
“I’ll be as mute as a fish.”
“Sometimes even fish make sounds. I want you to be as mute as a statue.”
“A statue,” said the Indian. “Yes, a statue.”
“Serve me well, and you’ll make your fortune,” continued Sandokan.
“Yes, sahib,” said the Indian, yawning like a bear and slumping further into his chair.
“You must introduce me to the favourite’s khansama.”
“Yes… the favorite.”
“And remember, you must not speak of this.”
“Yes… speak.”
“Go to the devil!”
“Yes… devil.”
The young man closed his eyes and began to snore.
“Let him sleep,” said Sandokan. “I doubt he’s ever been so drunk.”
“Likely,” said Tremal-Naik. “He’s probably never had anything stronger than toddy.”
“But I learned what I needed to know. Surama is still in the villa and the Greek is still in bed! When that rascal gets up, the future queen of Assam will no longer be in his clutches.”
“What do you intend to do?”
“First, I’ll make the khansama’s acquaintance. We’ll strike once I’m in the villa. Now then, while he’s sleeping off his gin, let’s go have breakfast.”
They ordered a tiffin of meat, vegetables and beer and retired to one of the adjoining rooms. Once they had eaten, they stretched out on the wicker chairs, instructed the khansama not to let the young Indian leave without their permission, then closed their eyes and went to sleep.
They did not rest for long, for a couple of hours later the khansama came in to tell them that the Indian had awakened and was demanding to see them.
“He must have an iron stomach,” said Sandokan, rising quickly.
“Like an ostrich,” replied Tremal-Naik.
They went into the dining room and found the young servant smiling cheerfully.
“A thousand pardons, sahib!” he said apologetically. “I fell asleep.”
“And you fear being scolded by your khansama?” asked Sandokan.
“Oh no. Today is my day off.”
“Perfect then.”
Sandokan drew a handful of silver coins worth half a rupee each from his sash and handed them to the young man.
“A small token to thank you for all you’ve told me. There will be more if you introduce me to your khansama. Tell him I’ll take any position at court, it matters not how important.”
“Be generous with him and doors will open. He has a brother at court who holds some influence.”
“Come then, we’ll go see him immediately.”
“What should I do?” asked Tremal-Naik.
“Wait for me here,” said Sandokan. “If there’s another position available, I’ll send for you. Come along, young man.”
They left the hotel and crossed the square, making their way through the crowds of people and the brightly painted carts piled high with goods.
When they reached Teotokris’ bungalow, the young man led Sandokan to the drawing room and asked him to wait there while he went to fetch the khansama. The arrival of that unexpected visitor caused quite a stir among the servants for it was evident from his complexion that he was not from Assam.
The Greek’s khansama, however, would have none of it. Informed of the visitor’s request, he immediately hastened to the drawing room intending to show the man the door. But at the sight of the formidable pirate, he bowed deeply, and bid him to sit down.
“I take it you’ve been told the purpose of my visit,” Sandokan said abruptly.
“I have,” the khansama replied sheepishly. “I’m surprised, sir, that you need my assistance. You have the look and bearing of a prince.”
“You have a good eye, khansama,” said Sandokan. “I am of royal blood. I was a prince once, as rich and powerful as the Rajah of Assam, and I would still be if the British had not taken my kingdom.”
“The British! They are a plague on our people! You have my sympathies, sahib!”
“Thank you. Now, to matters at hand,” said Sandokan.
“Of course, sir. How may I assist you?”
“I know your master holds great influence at the rajah’s court and I’ve come to ask for his aid in obtaining a position.”
“But, sir—”
“I’ve saved a few hundred rupees,” said Sandokan, quickly interrupting him, “and they’ll be yours if you can convince your master to recommend me to the rajah.”
At the talk of silver, the khansama bowed deeply.
“You were right to come to me,” he said. “My master loves me and always listens to my counsel. There’s room for everyone at court, especially when they are as wise and generous as you.”
“May I beg of you one more favour? For an additional fee of course.”
“By all means.”
“I have neither friends nor relatives in Guwahati. I need a room, just until I am settled at court. Can you provide me with one? Even a closet would suffice. I promise not to give you any trouble. I can pay a rupee per day including meals.”
The khansama thought for a moment, then replied:
“I can accommodate you, sir, provided you pretend to be a servant and do a little work. I have a small room on the second floor by the veranda that should suit you.”
Sandokan drew fifteen rupees from his sash and put it on the table before him.
“Here’s enough for two weeks. If you find me a position at court before then, whatever remains is yours to keep.”
“You are as generous as a prince,” replied the khansama.
“Could you have someone show me to my room?”
The khansama opened the door and gestured for the young Indian servant to enter.
“Take this sahib to the small room at the end of the veranda on the second floor. He’s to be treated as my guest until further notice,” then turning to Sandokan he added, “Follow him, sir. I’ll attend to the matter this evening.”
“Are you going to visit the rajah’s favorite?”
“Yes, sir. To receive his orders.”
He bowed politely and left through another door.
“It couldn’t have gone better,” smiled Sandokan. “Take me to my room, young man.”
“Come, sahib.”
They climbed the servant steps to the second floor, walked down the length of the veranda and entered a tiny room furnished with two chairs and a bed.
“Is this to your liking, sahib?” asked the servant.
“It’s perfect,” said Sandokan.
“It’s not as large as the dak bungalow you were in.”
Sandokan put a hand on his shoulder.
“Not a word of that, remember; you promised not to tell a soul.”
“Yes, sahib.”
“Now then, if you’d like to earn some more silver, I have a few more questions.”
“By all means, sahib, you’re more generous than my master.”
“Where is the young woman they brought here a couple of nights ago?”
The servant fell silent for a moment.
“I remember… You said you were her brother.”
“Correct.”
“And… what do you intend to do, sahib?”
“That’s none of your concern.”
“Sahib, you’re putting me in grave danger. I could be whipped or beaten as a result of what you do.”
“Nonsense. Once I’ve concluded the matter, I’ll take you into my household at double pay and give you a welcome gift of a hundred rupees.”
The young man’s eyes widened.
“Work for you, sahib!” he exclaimed. “At double pay!”
“At double pay. Keep my secrets, and do not question my orders and you’ll have a long and rewarding career.”
“I’ll follow your every command, sir. No one will be more loyal.”
“I need some answers now,” said Sandokan.
“Of course, sir.”
“Where is the young Indian woman?”
“Closer than you think.”
“You’ll need to be more specific.”
The young man opened a door that had been hidden behind a curtain and that led into a narrow corridor.
“This leads to the young woman’s room,” he whispered. “The master’s harem is on the second floor.”
“There’s a door down there. It will be locked I imagine.”
“I can arrange for you to have the key.”
“Perfect.”
“You’ll have it in half an hour, sahib.”
“You told me that today is your day off.”
“Yes.”
“So you can go back to the dak bungalow.”
“Whenever you like.”
Sandokan drew a small book and a pencil from his pocket, tore out a page and wrote down a few lines.
“Take this to the man who was with us. Would you be able to recognize him again?”
“Yes, sahib.”
“Fine then. Bring me the key, a bottle of gin, and then leave me be.”
“Yes, sahib.”
Once the young man had left, Sandokan tiptoed into the corridor and examined the door which led into the Greek’s harem. It was a stout oak door, plated with bronze; Sandokan pressed his ear against the keyhole and heard the voices of two women.
“She’s there!” he whispered.
It was only a matter of time now before he would free her.
He went back into his tiny room, lay down on the bed, lit his chibouk, and began to smoke. He had just finished his pipe, when the young servant reappeared holding a bottle and a glass of gilded metal.
“Here you go, sahib,” he said. “The khansama sent you this with his compliments.”
“And the key?”
“I took it without anyone noticing.”
“Good man. Now tell me, is my sister alone or is she with another woman?”
“I couldn’t say, sahib, I’m not allowed to enter my master’s harem.”
“No matter,” said Sandokan after a moment’s reflection.
“What should I do now?”
“Take the note to my friend and find me a long length of rope. I’ll have need of it this evening.”
“What do you intend to do, sahib?” the servant asked nervously.
“You’re questioning my orders. Have you forgotten my terms?”
“Of course not, sahib. My apologies.”
“Go now.”
Once the servant’s footsteps had faded, he walked back down the narrow corridor and pressed his ear against the keyhole. All was quiet.
He inserted the key in the lock and opened the door.
A cry, barely stifled, sounded at the rasp of the latch.
“Surama!” whispered Sandokan. “It’s me!”
Chapter 19
The Rescue
THE ROOM WAS of average size and elegantly furnished; blue silk curtains hung over the windows and a Persian rug covered the floor. A large bed, its frame inlaid with mother-of-pearl, occupied its centre; an Indian armoire and a white silk divan embroidered with gold, stood against opposing walls.
As Sandokan stepped through the doorway Surama rushed towards him, barely stifling a cry. She was dressed in a pink and blue silk sari, clothes the Greek’s khansama had provided her.
“Bolt the door,” whispered Sandokan. “We can’t risk someone entering unexpectedly.”
“How did you get here?”
“First the door, then we’ll talk.”
Surama drew the latch, securing it firmly.
“No one can enter now without my permission,” she said, returning to Sandokan. “Tell me, sir, how is Yanez?”
“He’s fine,” said Sandokan, inviting her to sit on the divan. “The rajah doesn’t suspect a thing.”
“And Tremal-Naik?”
“He’s having dinner at a dak bungalow not far from here.”
“But you—”
“You must have a thousand questions, but put them aside for a moment. All you need know is that I’m a guest in this house, and I’ve come to rescue you. But before I can act I need you to answer a few questions. First, will anyone disturb us?”
“No. Not for a couple of hours.”
“Perfect. Have they treated you badly or harmed you in any way?”
“No, sir, not at all.”
“Did they question you?”
“Not yet, but… I have a vague memory…”
“What kind of memory?”
“Like a dream…”
“Tell me about it, Surama,” said Sandokan.
“There were men standing about my bed, whispering to one another, then they gave me something to drink. It was strong and bitter. Like alcohol. The next thing I remember I awoke, alone in this room, my mind was clouded and my limbs were shaking as if I’d drunk some bhang.”
“Bhang? What’s that?”
“Opium.”
Sandokan frowned.
“Are you certain it wasn’t a dream, Surama?”
“I don’t know,” replied the young woman. “All I can say for certain is that I felt odd when I awoke.”
“Indians have no shortage of potions to make people speak. They may have given you yuma…”
“It wasn’t yuma; I know what that tastes like. No, if they gave me a potion, it must have been something else.”
“Think hard, if they questioned you in that state, you may have put us all in jeopardy.”
“And what if it was just a dream?”
“Had it been just a dream, your mind would not have been clouded when you woke up.”
“True.”
“If there were only a way we could know what you said!” Sandokan murmured. “Perhaps Tremal-Naik knows of some potion…”
“I’ll drink whatever you want, Sandokan.”
“We’ll discuss this later, once you’re safe.”
“How did you learn I’d been abducted?” asked Surama.
“I captured that wretched gosain and forced him to confess. It was the rajah’s favorite who ordered your abduction, probably in revenge for the wound Yanez had given him. Whatever the reason, we’ll make our move tonight. Everything has been prepared for your escape. What do your windows look out on?”
“The second floor veranda.”
“Perfect, we’ll climb down from there. When do they go to sleep in this house?”
“At eleven,” said Surama.
“Be ready at midnight. Do they assign servants to sleep in your room?”
“Two sleep in the adjoining room.”
“And they visit you before lights out?”
“Yes, to turn down the bed.”
“Do you have any drinks to offer them?”
“A bottle of European wine: the khansama provides me with every comfort.”
“That will do nicely.”
Sandokan reached into his belt and drew out a metal box containing several coloured vials. He took one, examined it carefully, then handed it to Surama.
“Dissolve this powder in the wine. Tonight you’ll offer each woman a small glass, no more. It’s a powerful narcotic; if you give them too much they may never wake up. Now, one last question.”
“By all means,” said Surama, hiding the vial in the folds of her sari.
“Do you think your father’s men would still remember you?”
“Once they learn I’m Mahur’s daughter, I’m
certain they’d take up arms and rally to our cause. Are you going to take me to them?”
“It may be necessary to keep you safe,” said the Tiger of Malaysia. “How long would it take an elephant to reach their village?”
“No more than five days.”
“That’s all I need to know. I’ll leave you now and come back at midnight.”
He embraced the future Rani of Assam then tiptoed back to his room.
“It couldn’t be going any better,” he muttered. “Come tomorrow night we’ll be safe in the Benar jungle.”
He stretched out on the bed, lit his pipe and poured himself a drink from a bottle of arrack that the young servant had left him.
It was close to midnight when a light tap on the door roused him from his bed.
“Time to act,” he muttered to himself.
Sandokan quietly opened the door and found the young servant standing before him.
“Everyone is asleep, sahib,” he reported.
“Have all lights been extinguished?”
“Yes.”
“Did you see anyone walking about in the square?”
“Just a small group of men.”
“They’re my friends. Give me the rope.”
“Here you go, sahib.”
“Follow me and don’t be afraid. Remember, you work for me now, you’ll be well taken care of.”
“Thank you, master.”
Sandokan opened the door to the narrow corridor, quickly walked down its length and wrapped lightly on Surama’s door. It opened immediately; the young Assamese woman had turned down the lamp to make it appear as if she had gone to sleep and wrapped a large silk scarf about her head to conceal her appearance.
“Ready, sir,” she said.
“Your servants?”
“Both soundly asleep.”
“They drank the narcotic?”
“More than an hour ago.”
“Then we can be certain they won’t bother us,” said Sandokan. “They won’t awaken until tomorrow night.”
He opened a window, climbed out onto the veranda and silently crept towards the parapet.
Although it was quite dark, he immediately spied several shadows in front of the favourite’s palace.
“Tremal-Naik and my men,” he whispered. “So far, so good.”
He uncoiled the rope, fastened one end to a wooden column, cast the other end over the side, and hissed softly once it struck the ground.
An identical hiss immediately came in reply.
Sandokan: Quest for a Throne (The Sandokan Series Book 6) Page 19
