‘A fall at polo, Highness,’ Laura told her.
‘Polo,’ the Begum said contemptuously. ‘It is the curse of India. But...your husband was a Hindu?’
She was clearly puzzled.
‘Indeed, Highness,’ Batraj said, coming forward as well. ‘And the Dowager Rani was placed upon his pyre. But I rescued her.’
The Begum turned her gaze on him for a moment, and appeared to like what she saw.
‘Why did you do that?’ she asked.
‘Could so much beauty be allowed to perish, Highness?’
‘So now you are fugitives,’ the Begum said. ‘Outcasts who have violated the law of their people.’
The Begum, of course, was a Muslim, if she was anything.
‘We sought to regain control of the city, Highness,’ Laura told her. ‘But were defeated by Company soldiers. Prince Batraj is a worshipper of Kali.’
Batraj gave her an angry glance.
‘It is the truth,’ she said, suddenly feeling that this strangely beautiful old woman might after all help her.
The Begum looked from one to the other. Then she said, ‘You have travelled far, and fast. You are weary, and you, my child, have suffered. Let my women attend to you.’
‘The Rajah...’
‘He may accompany his mother,’ the Begum said.
Batraj looked as if he would have protested, but then changed his mind.
Laura could hardly believe her ears, as she and Miljah and Sivitraj were escorted through a delightful enclosed garden, and into what appeared to be a bedroom, full of divans and soft cushions. The Begum’s women divested her of her clothes, with much chatter in Urdu, a language she did not understand, although she gathered that they were exclaiming over her beauty and her height, and her sun-burned complexion.
A huge tin tub of lukewarm water was brought in, and Laura was bathed, the girls gently washing her with sweet smelling soaps. It felt very good to be so treated after so long. She closed her eyes and enjoyed the soft fingers, the perfumes, the caress of the water.
Laura was dried, then made to lie on a divan where she was massaged with oil of roses. The girls worked in relays, two or three at a time; all had discarded their clothes and were kneeling beside her or astride her as they rubbed the oil into her shoulders and breasts, her thighs and legs and feet. The massage was as sensuous as it was soothing, and Laura felt herself drifting into the most relaxed state she had known since making love with Sitraj. Meanwhile Miljah was bathing little Sivitraj, who splashed and crowed and chattered happily to the women, without anyone understanding what he was saying.
Food was brought, perfectly prepared and delicious, but no wine so Laura supposed the Begum might after all be a devout Muslim.
She knew she should be worrying about what Batraj was up to, and making her own plans, but she felt so delightfully drowsy, truly aware for the first time of how exhausted she was, that all she wanted to do was lie down and close her eyes.
‘I feel that we have stumbled upon some kind of a paradise, Miljah,’ she said.
‘Let us hope it stays this way, Highness,’ Miljah said, as pessimistically as ever. No doubt she too had heard the stories of the Begum’s cruelty. But so far, no-one could have been kinder.
After the meal, a divan was prepared for her, and the girls indicated that she should indeed lie down. She nestled amidst the cushions and called for Sivitraj to be given to her. He was as sleepy as she, and within seconds they were both dead to the world.
When Laura awoke with a start, Sivitraj was no longer there. It was clearly evening, as lamps were glowing in the room. And she was alone...save for the Begum Sombre.
*
Laura sat up, reaching for the cushions, embarrassed by her nakedness.
‘Where is my son?’ she asked, surges of alarm hammering at her brain.
‘With his nurse,’ the Begum told her. ‘You have slept soundly. You needed that sleep.’ She stretched out her hand and stroked golden hair from Laura’s brow. ‘Such marvellous hair. But then, you are such a beautiful woman.’
Her hand slipped to Laura’s shoulder. Laura couldn’t make up her mind whether to resist her or not; she was terribly aware of being entirely in this woman’s power.
‘Such breasts,’ the Begum said, and stroked them. ‘You must make Batraj very happy.’
Laura licked her lips. After all she had been through during the past month, she could not feel that to be seduced by the Begum Sombre would be the least unpleasant. She was more concerned with what advantage she might be able to gain.
‘He is my captor,’ she said.
‘He says you are his wife.’
‘Because he has declared it to be so, Highness.’
‘My name is Aljai,’ she said. ‘I would have you call me Aljai.’
‘Aljai,’ Laura said, her heart beginning to pound.
‘Tell me the truth, of you and Batraj,’ Aljai invited, her hands sliding over Laura’s body.
It was difficult to concentrate, but Laura told her everything. The Begum was not a woman from whom one could hide very much.
‘You would like me to help you,’ the Begum said, and stood up.
Laura fell back on the cushions. ‘If you would return me and my son to Sittapore...’
The Begum removed her sari; for all her age and her experiences, she had the figure of a young girl. ‘You would be arrested by the British,’ she said. ‘Are you not also a devotee of Kali?’
‘Batraj forced me,’ Laura said. ‘Please believe me.’
Aljai stretched out on the divan beside her. ‘I have been blessed in my life,’ she said. ‘So many beautiful people...George Thomas...my Frenchmen...and Richard Bryant…do you know of them?’
‘I have heard their names...’
‘And now you, the most beautiful of them all, come to visit me in my old age. Am I not blessed?’
Laura smiled. ‘It is I who am blessed, Aljai. Will you help me?’
Aljai smiled. ‘We will talk about it. Later.’
*
After Aljai had left, the girls came in to perfume Laura and dress her for the evening. They brought a beautiful new white sari, but no sandals, and she gathered she was to go barefoot, like the Begum. They spent half an hour dressing her hair, first of all combing and brushing it, and then twining it into a thick golden plait, almost as if she had been a girl again.
Her knees felt weak as she was escorted out into the garden, where Aljai sat on one divan and Batraj on another. What would Batraj say if he knew that his wife had been seduced by another woman and had enjoyed it?
‘Come and sit beside me,’ the Begum said. ‘You look truly splendid tonight. But then, you are beautiful, Laura. Do you not agree, Prince Batraj?’
‘With all my heart,’ Batraj said.
Laura said nothing. I have escaped your clutches, she thought, without your even being aware of it. No matter what I have had to do, I have escaped you.
She sat beside the Begum and Aljai squeezed her hand. ‘I have some entertainment for you.’
She clapped her hands, and a sitar player entered the garden followed by several nautch dancers, naked save for gold bangles at wrist and ankle.
‘Do you like to watch them dance?’ Aljai inquired, softly.
Laura looked at the girls with entirely new eyes.
Afterwards they ate, while Aljai talked about the great days of the past, about her love-hate relationship with the huge Irish adventurer George Thomas who had gone into battle wearing chain mail and wielding a gigantic two-handed sword, and about her true love, the Englishman Richard Bryant.
‘Like you,’ she said, ‘he came to me a fugitive from the Company, and stayed to command my troops.’ Her liquid eyes played over Batraj. ‘There are no men like him any more.’
Batraj merely smiled.
After the meal, Laura was returned to her bedchamber. She understood that she was a prisoner, that perhaps the Begum had not yet made up her mind what to do with her or Batraj. But
after that afternoon she did not doubt that she was going to succeed. She thought, I’m no better than a courtesan, willing to do anything to return my son to his inheritance. And she laughed.
She felt almost noble, and at the same time excited. Surely Aljai would wish to come to her again this night?
But to her disappointment, Aljai did not come.
*
She was awakened by Miljah, bringing Sivitraj to her for his morning cuddle.
‘When will we leave this place, Highness?’ Miljah asked.
‘When the Begum permits us to do so.’ Laura told her. ‘Do you not like it here?’
‘It is evil,’ Miljah said.
‘I am beginning to think all of India is evil,’ Laura said. But I am part of it now, she thought. I have been swallowed into its erotic embrace.’
She was bathed and dressed and fed. Suddenly then the girls squealed in excitement. ‘The Prince comes!’
Laura stood up, Sivitraj in her arms. Batraj smiled at her. ‘We are to leave here today.’
‘Leave? For where?’
He gave a little shrug. ‘We will go to Afghanistan. I know the Amir, Dost Mohammed. He will give us shelter while I prepare my plans. He hates the British.’
‘I will stay here,’ Laura declared. ‘With the Rajah.’
Batraj did not get angry. ‘Do not be foolish, Laura. You are my wife. Besides, there is our bargain. Where I go, you go. You will enjoy Afghanistan.’
‘I will stay here,’ Laura repeated. ‘The Begum wishes me to stay.’
‘Perhaps you should ask her,’ Batraj suggested.
What could have happened? Was Batraj simply attempting to assert himself? Laura refused to despair.
‘I will do that,’ she said. ‘Do not try to stop me.’
Batraj stepped aside, and held the door open for her.
Laura glared at him and went out into the garden. No-one was there, but the door on the right was open, and she went towards it. A horrifying wail of agony came from within. She hesitated, and another heart-rending scream tore the morning apart.
Maids hurried forward to stop her.
‘I wish to see the Begum,’ she demanded.
Another scream, which subsided into a kind of whimpering agony. Laura pushed the girls aside and entered a large hall.
‘Laura, my child.’ Aljai emerged from an adjacent room, serene in red silk. ‘You have come to say goodbye.’
‘What is happening?’ Laura demanded.
‘Oh, I am punishing one of my women. Come and see.’
Aljai took Laura’s hand and led her through the inner doorway. On the floor inside was the naked body of a young girl, held there by several others, writhing and moaning in agony. Beside the victim there was a bowl of...Laura stared at it in horror. Red pepper!
The girl’s nipples and breasts seemed swollen to twice their normal size.
‘You will destroy her!’ she gasped.
‘Not there, if I wished to destroy her I would put the pepper between her legs,’ Aljai said contemptuously. ‘Oh, yes, then they die.’ She sighed. ‘But that is frowned upon nowadays.’
‘What has she done?’
‘Done? Why, nothing. It amuses me to remind these bitches that I still have teeth. Now, let us bid each other farewell.’
Laura felt as if she were choking. ‘I thought you would help me,’ she muttered.
‘Believe me, my child, I have considered the matter carefully. I would like very much to keep you here. You are a delight, and would bring me much happiness. But I cannot antagonise the Company. They are strong, and I...in my old age I am weak.’
‘But they are my people!’ Laura cried, desperately.
‘You are a criminal to them,’ Aljai said. ‘Prince Batraj has told me of this. If they knew I was giving you shelter here they would send to arrest you, and perhaps me as well. I have no soldiers now with which to fight them. I wish only to live in peace.’
‘Batraj is a liar!’ Laura shouted.
‘Will you deny that you have worshipped at the shrine of Kali?’
‘I was forced to it.’ Laura protested. ‘I have told you this.’
‘It is the deed that matters,’ Aljai pointed out. ‘You and Prince Batraj, and your son, are expelled from my jaghir. On pain of death should you be found within my boundaries at this time tomorrow. Now go.’
‘Your Highness, Aljai, I beg of you. After what we have...she bit her lip. After what I allowed to happen, she thought...to be thrown out, like a prostitute!
‘There will be others, if you wish it,’ Aljai said. ‘Now go.’ She left the room. Laura made to follow her, still hoping to persuade her, but was prevented by the women.
‘You must leave this place, Highness,’ one of them whispered. ‘Do not anger the Begum, I beg of you, or it will be very hard for you. And it will be very hard for us.’
As if to underline the warning, the girl inside screamed as Aljai applied more pepper to her tortured flesh.
Laura’s shoulders drooped as she was escorted through the door. Never had she felt so humiliated. To have allowed herself to be seduced by that horrid old woman...and to be cast aside at the end of it...
‘I should have you whipped,’ Batraj said as they rode out of the city. ‘Do you consider you were keeping our bargain to tell the Begum that we are Thugs, and wanted by the British?’
‘I told her nothing but the truth,’ she said. ‘Our bargain did not say that I must lie for you.’ She drew a long breath. She had at least a spark of revenge to throw at him. ‘Shall I tell you that the Begum came to my bed yesterday afternoon, and used me carnally?’
She waited for an explosive reaction of disgust, of revulsion, or of anger, but he was not in the least put out. ‘But last night she summoned me to her bed, Laura. She is omnivorous.’ He gave a shout of laughter. ‘I wonder which of us she enjoyed the more.’
*
After Agra, Laura realised she was beaten. Even after Sitraj’s death, even after her bargain with Batraj, she had yet dreamed of somehow escaping the consequences of her madness. As they rode north, she understood that she was Batraj’s woman, and must remain so for the rest of her life.
Batraj did not beat her. Instead he humiliated her by making her show him everything that Aljai had done to her, which was far worse. He seemed delighted by the incident, which left Laura feeling even more devastated yet, in a strange way more relaxed than she had been since Sitraj’s death. As she could no longer resist the world, she might as well allow herself to sink into its embrace, abandon herself entirely to the senses, which seemed to be all that was required of her.
She had felt it somehow shameful to think of Guy Bartlett before. That night when Batraj mounted her, she closed her eyes and remembered every detail of Guy’s naked body.
*
After what had happened at Agra, however amused he had been by it, Batraj decided it would be dangerous to allow Laura to work her charms on any other potentate, especially the Mughal Emperor in Delhi. That august personage might have sunk a long way from the fame and splendour of Aurangzeb, his dominions no more than a few square miles around the city, and his survival entirely dependant upon the pension paid him by the Company, there was a British Resident in the city, and a regiment of Sepoys camped outside it. Batraj was sure that news of the fight outside Sittapore would not yet have reached this far north, but he would not risk Laura being able to talk to any of her compatriots.
Thus from Agra he turned north-west, away from Company-controlled territory, and into Rajputana. Here the British had no direct influence, although the Rajput princes were well aware of the looming power to their south and east.
Batraj now travelled as an Afghan merchant on his way home. He was still well provided with funds and found little difficulty in obtaining food and shelter. The Indian women made up a dye, and Laura’s magnificent hair was dyed black, and her white flesh darkened to a sallow brown. Nothing could be done about her blue eyes, of course, but it was certainly an
adequate disguise from a distance.
‘And there are Pathan women with blue eyes,’ Batraj told her. ‘I have seen them.’
He had apparently taken refuge in the north following his father’s death and his first failed attempt at a coup, and had only returned to Sittapore when Sitraj had extended the hand of welcome.
How foolishly generous had her first husband been, Laura thought.
*
January and February were two of the best months in the Deccan. Although the nights were cold on the high plateau after leaving the valley of the Jumna, once the little party descended into the huge plain watered by the Indus, the weather was again very pleasant.
Although Batraj was apparently known in several towns, he gave the impression that he was merely travelling, as usual, on a mission for his cousin: the news of the death of the Rajah of Sittapore had not yet reached the north. Even the Rajputs, however, had heard that Sitraj had married a golden-haired Englishwoman, but no one was allowed to get close enough to Laura even to suspect that she was not what she seemed, a Hindu concubine.
But for her circumstances and her fears for the future, Laura knew she would have found the journey fascinating.
It was not that her immediate circumstances were particularly unpleasant or uncomfortable; she found the continuous travelling exhausting. Batraj was still ahead of the news from Sittapore, and intended to remain that way. But he was good humoured and tolerant, and they invariably found a place in one of the caravanserais which lay close to every large town. These caravanserais were huge walled hotels, in which any traveller was welcome to stay free of charge for three days: this was to encourage tradesmen to visit the area. They were extremely comfortable, with apartments for families and a large area for animals. They were also extremely noisy when there were several caravans all in residence at the same time.
As they left Sargodha, however, and began the ascent towards the Hindu Kush, it became apparent that it was still winter in the mountains which were their destination. Now the wind came whistling down from the north, it was bitingly cold, and they huddled beneath blankets even as they rode.
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