Wojciech Zukrowski - Stone Tablets

“Incredible,” Terey sighed. “And how did he get back here?”

“Attorney Chandra brought him. He found him in a cave on the shore, surrounded by worshipers, people doing him honor. The villagers fed him, brought offerings. He was, after all, visible proof that it is possible to die and return by the grace of the gods.”

“And how did Chandra come to be there?” Istvan asked suspiciously. “Aren’t there too many of these coincidences?”

“Chandra is a devout Hindu and came to wash away his sins in the holy waters. He heard of this new sadhu, so he came to ask for a blessing. They began talking and Chandra suggested that he abandon his retreat and return to his former life. He promised to appear before the court and defend his just cause — to force me to return the inheritance I had improperly taken possession of.”

The rajah exhaled deeply and pondered for a moment how best to explain his troubles.

“The trial took place. The court had to decide who that grossly disfigured person really was. Only the court had the right to return him to life,” he explained for Terey’s benefit. “The judge asked me if I wanted to acknowledge him as my brother. Well — what would you have done in my place? If I had said no, right away they would have had evidence that he is indeed my brother, because I would have been defending my rights of possession: I would not have wanted to return what I took as my inheritance from him, and they are not trivial sums. I would have had everyone against me—”

“Who is ‘everyone’?” Istvan interrupted.

“The attendants at the cemetery. The women from the village who found him. Even my own wife. Yes, even Grace, who is simply afraid he will put a curse on her child. Well, what was I to do? I acknowledged him. He was in the castle, and I took Grace away, so she would not be staring at that terrible face that looked as if it had been flayed, and I came here — to arrive at terms with Chandra. Yes, for in fact it was he who called that specter to life. And he hints that he would be able to convince the man to sign an act of relinquishment and go away to his retreat to perfect his inner life. To all appearances the rajah would die and a sadhu would be born.”

“So, damn it, I’m asking you: Is he your brother or not?” Terey almost snarled.

“I do not know. I truly do not know. When I look into his tortured eyes through the slits in those eyelids scarred by the flames, it seems to me that I recognize him. When I hear his voice, I think: he is a stranger.”

“Because it is a fraud!” His father-in-law sprang up and ran around the office, kicking the red cashmere carpet until it lay in folds. “They threw the corpse into the river and it drifted for a hundred miles. At least that was where the washerwomen found him.”

“Oh, do not wear me out.” The rajah raised his hands as if to shield himself. “I would rather give up money than repudiate my brother. There is so much that is miraculous about this business that no one will marvel at this hundred miles. You know very well what the judges said: that he must have floated on the wood as on a raft. After all, the pyre did not burn up.”

“How much will Chandra get in the end?”

The rajah looked from under his eyelids at his father-in-law. They exchanged gestures of helplessness.

“If I do not pay him, my brother will, for he is a puppet in his hands. His trust knows no bounds. He is ready to turn over half his fortune to him. And he would be within his rights. Chandra brought him into the castle, gave him clothing, servants, a fortune, a good name. He made him my brother.”

“Well, decide, then: He made him your brother, or he is your brother?” Istvan persisted. “Everything that happens from now on depends on this.”

“You must protect yourself from this corpse that survived the flames!” Vijayaveda shouted. “It concerns not only you but Grace, and the one not yet born. Why must you allow yourself to be robbed? It is all Chandra’s fault — Chandra, that demon whose appetite for gold and influence is never satiated. Can you conceive of it? He is obviously amusing himself with this whole affair, in which even the gods are implicated.”

“And your sister-in-law? Did she recognize her husband?”

“She recognized him. She recognized him.” The rajah spread his hands like one who is at his wits’ end. “Understand: it is not possible to expect good judgment from women. She pities him.”

“She even commends him,” snorted the father-in-law. “He exercises his marital rights and is more adept at it than your deceased brother.”

“So what can be done?”

“Things could be arranged with Chandra.” The rajah inclined his head. “You know him. It seemed to me that he liked you. Talk with him. Cross-examine him. Perhaps he will show his hand. He has one weakness: he likes to brag. About everything, from his excellent cigars to his intimacy with ministers.”

“Oh, he is proud as the devil himself,” the older man concurred, pacing impatiently around the carpet, which lay diagonally across the floor. “But when he wants to make money, he can be”—he lowered his hands to knee height—“such a dear little thing.”

“But after he humbles himself, he does not forget it. He is vindictive as a wounded elephant,” the rajah added in his easygoing way. “No one would want to have him for an enemy. For the rest, he is a past master at law. He can unearth examples from old laws to settle contentious cases, examples that support his conclusions. You know that with us, as in England, legal precedents are binding. The judge must take them into consideration. I regret now that I engaged in business dealings with him. I yielded to the inducement of high interest and the impunity which he guaranteed me.”

“And I warned you,” his father-in-law said testily. “I didn’t hide what they were saying about him—”

“None of which kept you from availing yourself of his services, father,” the rajah cut in. “Who executed the transfer via Ceylon to Australia, to the Ward account?”

“Once, much, quickly, and an end to it.” With a gesture of his hand the older man cut an unseen bond. “Was I going to dissolve the estate here, to let them squander it on their scheduled investments? It is possible to take risks, but good sense dictates that the future be secured — not for me, only for you and your children. I want nothing from life by now; I must think of your happiness.” He spoke a little mawkishly, and the rajah caught the false note, for he rested both hands on his knees, leaned forward and looked at his father-in-law with a hint of mockery.

“Well, well. Let us say no more about it. I got myself into this and I will find my own way out.” His face clouded over and he looked toward the door, where the portieres swelled in a light gust of wind as if something sinister were entering the room, breathing into their faces a cool dampness with the rotting odor of greenery run rampant.

“You must remember,” Vijayaveda began gravely.

“I remember. I also remember our guest, whom we ought not to bore,” the rajah said, discreetly signifying that Terey had been made privy to family secrets — real secrets, because they had to do with financial operations

A cart rolled out of the premature dusk. A servant, his sandals pattering, squatted beside the chairs and collected the emptied cups that stood on the bare floor and on the carpet. He put them on the cart with such a clatter that they might have been made of iron. He was announcing, with this rather unnecessary commotion, that he was working zealously. He could have gathered the dishes on a tray and cleared them away, but he preferred to roll out the tea cart in order to show that this was a modern house, a house of the highest class.