Barbara Cleverly - The Damascened Blade

The covert scrutiny abruptly turned to overt challenge. Two tribesmen appeared, blocking their track, and Joe was aware of riflemen on either side of the defile. Aslam shouted a response and two men emerged from behind rocks to return the greeting but Joe noticed they did not relax their vigilance. Grace added a pithy comment in Pushtu, apparently recognizing one of the Afridi as she called out his name. For once Joe could follow what was being said. It had been well rehearsed at the fort and the Pathan love of gesture, drama and joking repartee made all very clear.

Aslam began by exchanging brief but friendly greetings. He paused, waiting, relaxed and confident, to be waved on. He did not state their business but affected to assume the challenging guards were aware of it. Back came the questions as expected and with a touch of impatience Aslam told them to stop prevaricating and let them through. Time was short. There was a perceptible stiffening in the guards’ attitude and they again questioned Aslam. Eyes rolling with exasperation, he said, enunciating clearly, that the lady doctor had been summoned to attend the Malik and how come they didn’t know that?

The guards consulted amongst themselves and all declared that no message had gone out. A runner had come through yesterday morning with a message from the ferenghi fort but that was all. Were they sure they’d been summoned? Aslam, half in anger, half in joke, shouted at them. ‘You silly sods! You’ve been sitting up in those rocks so long you’re growing moss on your arses! The message came through to the fort at Gor Khatri. The Memsahib’s staying at the fort for a day or two before going on to attend the Amir Amanullah. She could do without this detour but as a favour to the Malik and because it sounded so urgent she agreed to come. The message came in the night. You buggers were all asleep – come on, admit it! Well, no skin off our nose – we can just turn round and go back. Just explain to old Ramazad why his medical assistance didn’t get through, will you?’

With a show of bad temper, Aslam began to turn his horse around. This was an uneasy moment. Joe could hardly breathe. If they failed now they would all be shot dead in seconds. At his side, Yussuf yawned negligently, spat in the sand and leaned over to pass a comment to Joe in Pushtu. Joe nodded, grimaced and idly began to pick his nose.

‘No! Wait a minute!’ The cry went up just as Aslam had predicted. But then something unexpected: one of the Afridi, apparently with a rush of insight, shouted at the others, his pronouncement accompanied by a loud guffaw. The others, understanding dawning, joined in his laughter, one of them counting ostentatiously on his fingers. It was evident to Joe that ribald jokes were being exchanged.

Yussuf leaned towards him and whispered, ‘Laugh with me, sahib,’ and, digging him in the ribs, they too appeared to be joining in a joke which was a total mystery to Joe. With a new sense of urgency and all smiles, the leading Afridi waved the two gunmen to come down from their cliffs.

While they were conferring together Grace moved her horse close to Joe and hissed an explanation. ‘What a piece of luck! I’d been thinking it was about time Allah, the All Merciful, took a hand and now they assume I’ve been sent for to attend the Malik’s new wife. (I hadn’t heard the old one was dead!) She’s due to give birth any day now they reckon. They’re actually fixing up an escort for us to get us through to Mahdan Khotal with all speed! God knows what we’ll say when we get there. I’ll have to play it by ear when the time comes!’

Lily had finally reached the end of what had been the longest day in her memory. Gently and firmly – with kindness even – she was escorted to the room that had been made ready for her and it was clearly explained that she should stay there and keep quiet.

‘What’s the good of that?’ Lily thought. ‘There’s no way in this world I’m going to sleep tonight. Everything’s happening all around me and I take no part. I don’t want to be here any more. I want to be back in Gor Khatri with people I understand. There’s a drama unfolding in this horrible place. Drama? A tragedy, more like!’ Her dismal thoughts were punctuated by the sound of lamentation from Halima’s room. Her cries had grown fainter and further apart and yet there was no one to whom Lily could turn to ask what was happening. Silently she made her way back to the main room and settled down on a heap of cushions by the window. She closed her eyes and fell instantly asleep.

She woke as swift-moving dawn broke once more, lighting the barren hills and sliding across the courtyard below, rolling back the shadows of the night. Lily jerked into full wakefulness as though she had never slept. She looked down on pacing figures in the courtyard and remembered why she was there at the window. She listened intently for noises from the next room and was relieved to hear a faint groan from Halima. At least she was still alive. Nothing then had changed in that long night.

She rolled over on her elbow and looked down on the rigid figure of the Malik who, it seemed, had not abandoned his silent vigil throughout the night. ‘What now?’ thought Lily. ‘Is there nothing they can do? Surely primitive women in a primitive tribal area know more about childbirth than anyone in the world and yet they seem helpless.’

The morning wore on. Women went in and out, their expressions increasingly sad and desperate. Down below a holy man joined the Malik and the two prayed together repetitively and with repeated gestures. The words were formal but the Malik’s anguish was manifest and Lily’s heart went out to that vengeful and violent man. Silently she added her own prayers to theirs. The children, she noticed, had all been sent away to play at the far end of the courtyard and Lily remained alone, anxious and frustrated as the hours crawled by. Finally, ‘I’m not going to waste another second,’ she decided. ‘I’m going to see what’s going on! At least I can sit with Halima for a bit. She may be surprised to see me. She may not even remember who I am but I think she might be glad to have me by her. It’s worth a try. I’m not going to spend another second in this room.’

She jumped to her feet but her attention was instantly diverted to a rattle and tumult from below. To Lily’s surprise, amidst shouts, the gate of the fort was creaking open as four men pushing the heavy timbers before them worked to admit a small cortège. Two Afridi tribesmen preceded a strange group of riders. Lily’s heart leapt as she saw that three of them were in Scouts’ uniform. She observed their approach with a spurt of hope. Perhaps they’d come to rescue her, to escort her back to the fort at Gor Khatri. Perhaps they would get her out of this alarming place. Perhaps a deal had been done. At least they represented something familiar. ‘Now I’m not alone,’ she thought.

The fourth member of the party was, on the other hand, completely incongruous and completely unfamiliar. A female figure. A female figure astride a horse. Surely that was unusual? She was dressed in red, veiled and in native clothes though she didn’t look like any of the native women Lily had seen since her arrival. This woman was short and stout and carried herself with some authority. She flung a leg over her horse’s head, jumped with surprising agility to the ground and began to fluff out her baggy trousers, calling out commands to her accompanying Scouts. Accustomed as she now was to the deferential attitudes of women in the presence of men, it was a surprise to hear and see a woman prepared to speak and speak loudly; a woman, moreover, to whom it seemed the Afridi were prepared to listen. Who could this be?

And at once Lily saw who it was. Grace! Grace Holbrook. Solid, uncompromising, organizing and efficient Grace! Grace who now turned and fixed her gaze on the Malik. The Malik, standing with the Imam by his side, looked from Grace to the Scouts and to the pair of his Afridi warriors who had escorted the small group into the square. He was speechless for just long enough. Grace hurried to greet him heartily and spoke to him in Pushtu. Such was his astonishment or his fatigue he could only reply in a hesitant voice, pausing to exchange dazed looks with the holy man. The exchange was very brief and Lily, with unspeakable relief, saw the Malik with a sweeping gesture invite Grace to accompany him to the harem. Grace took her medical case from the horse and followed him. Lily heard Grace begin to climb the stairs and ran to the door to greet her.