The Strangler Vine (30 page)

I was given a horse, and was glad to have it.

Hogwood’s tent had been erected in the overgrown grounds of a once grand native mansion. It was a splendid affair (I wondered for a moment if it was the tent under which I had sat watching the bodies dug up outside Jubbulpore, but dismissed the thought), with fine carpets, and a curtained area where there was a charpai, a wooden bath, and a copper basin and tripod just like the one I had abandoned in Calcutta. Once we had sat Mountstuart in a deep reclining chair thick with cushions, Hogwood went to arrange matters and servants began to bring out food: rice, wheat cakes, boiled eggs and cooled water to begin with. By the time Blake arrived, there was fricasseed chicken, omelettes, custard, bananas and custard apples; and a bottle of cold claret. So much food, indeed, that simply looking at it made me feel a little sick.

‘I have sent a sowar to Mirzapore to inform the authorities you are on your way,’ said Hogwood, returning to the tent. ‘In my humble opinion you should rest for a while – perhaps take a bath to prepare yourself for civilization – and leave your journey until the morning.’

Blake was encouraging Mountstuart to eat a modest plate of rice and egg. I thought I saw him slip a pellet of something into Mountstuart’s hand. The sight was both touching and strangely upsetting.

‘I am afraid, Mr Hogwood, we simply cannot wait,’ said Blake, looking up. ‘But we will take a short rest. It may seem perverse, but we have our reasons.’

‘But Mr Mountstuart is clearly exceedingly weak. If you wait until tomorrow, we can bring him back on a bullock cart.’

It was Mountstuart who now answered. ‘My dear young man, your hospitality and concern are most gratefully received, especially in view of our last meeting. But it is imperative I reach Mirzapore as soon as possible.’ His voice was not much more than a rasping
whisper, but even so he brought to his words a certain dramatic flourish, and a faint hauteur, which I wished he had spared us.

‘Yes, of course.’ Hogwood looked abashed. ‘But may I say that if your inclination to leave swiftly is in any way related to the awkwardness occasioned by your stay – both your stays – in Jubbulpore, or indeed the suddenness of Mr Mountstuart’s departure, I would beg you to lay that aside. We may take different sides in … in, er, certain arguments, but I truly wish to help in any way I can. I am particularly concerned about these dacoits or Thugs who held Mr Mountstuart. You say they pursued you. That is very worrying. If you can spare the time to tell me what passed, I would be most grateful.’

‘I have a meeting with the Governor General I cannot afford to miss,’ said Mountstuart. ‘I have some documents I must lay before him.’

I thought Hogwood paled slightly at Mountstuart’s words, but I was not sure.

‘As to my story, having quit Jubbulpore rather abruptly, you will remember, I travelled the forests of Saugor and Nerbudda, and was taken prisoner by a brigand gang, who were, nevertheless, moved to keep me alive. They were, I must say, a fascinating group. I hope to write something about them. They call themselves the last true Thugs, and go by the name of the Kitree band, and their leader is a man named Rada Kishin.’

Hogwood gasped. ‘I do not know what to say. Lieutenant Avery, do you not recall, this is the gang who we believe murdered that poor family we exhumed while you were in Jubbulpore? It seems they have suddenly become exceedingly and dangerously bold.’

‘It so happened that Mr Blake and this young man stumbled upon my captors,’ Mountstuart went on, as if Hogwood had not spoken – it seemed the opium was having its effect, ‘and were taken prisoner too. At which point our hosts concluded they had too many European guests and prepared to despatch us. We realized we must escape. We did so, and then walked through the jangal to evade our pursuers, until we found the road a few days ago. They, however, continued to pursue us. Indeed, we feared they may have followed
us into this very town. The pursuit has weakened me, but I am determined to reach Jubbulpore as soon as I can. That, I think, is a fairly succinct summary of events.’ He let his head fall back among the cushions.

I thought of everything Mountstuart had left out, including all that Blake had done. I frowned very slightly at him. He tightened his lips almost imperceptibly in such a way that left me in no doubt that I should say no more.

Hogwood leapt up. I had never seen him so animated. ‘You think they may be near here? This is an opportunity we cannot afford to miss! I shall send two of my men to make inquiries back the way you came. If I accompany you to Mirzapore today, I can have a whole fresh cavalry unit from Mirzapore out here by tomorrow.’

‘A whole unit?’ Blake said.

‘Major Sleeman’s writ runs all the way along the road, Mr Blake,’ said Hogwood, smiling slightly. ‘Ah yes, I must send a message to Jubbulpore. Can you tell me anything about where you found them? I think we might finally be able to apprehend the whole band!’ He paused for a moment.

‘You must all eat and then rest for a few hours. I will make arrangements and have
fresh horses ready for when you rise. If you can hold out for a few hours more’ – he looked at Mountstuart doubtfully – ‘you will have all the comforts of civilization by the end of the day.’

I looked at Blake. It was evident Mountstuart could not move at once. There seemed to be no alternative. Blake nodded.

‘That is a relief,’ said Hogwood. ‘If you will excuse me, I will set our plans in motion.’

Then he tapped his head and laughed.

‘Heavens, Avery! Your story has quite distracted me. I must congratulate you on your
other
exploits! Everyone from Poona to Benares must have heard of how you shot the tiger and saved the Rao of Doora’s life. You are quite the hero!’

I had not meant to sleep but I could not help myself. I woke stiff, apprehensive and wishing I felt stronger. Hogwood said that with fresh horses we ought to reach Mirzapore in three hours, even making allowances for Mountstuart. He had arranged for two sowars to go ahead to announce our coming and scout the road. Two would accompany us. Two would stay with the baggage carts and servants and make the slow journey the next day. It was perfectly usual and acceptable practice.

It was just after midday. The sun was high but the temperature was pleasant. We made good speed. Blake appeared his usual silent self, but I did not believe he was entirely easy in himself. Mountstuart was managing better than I would have imagined – whatever Blake had given him seemed to have restored him for the moment. I glanced at Mountstuart: whatever became of us, I could not see how he might be mended.

We had ridden for about half an hour when Hogwood, out ahead, pulled up. He undid the water bottle at his side and took a draught. We all took a moment to do likewise. The road was wide, four or five horses might have ridden abreast, but dense jangal had taken over from scrub and the leaves leant slightly in the breeze.

Silently, out from the trees to our left stepped a native. And then another. And another. Dark faces, well shod, draped in blankets, all with staves and knives. And then another, a familiar figure this time: Rada Kishin. In each hand he carried a pistol. One was a Collier repeater. I was sure it was mine.

The two sepoys drew their swords and prepared to fight. Kishin shot one, who toppled off his horse; the dacoits seized the other’s horse and pulled him off, one stabbing him as he fell.

‘Mr Mountstuart,’ called Hogwood, ‘to me.’ He drew his pistol.

From the trees stepped the ghost of a familiar figure. But he was no ghost. He strode through the others and stood at their head next to Rada Kishin, who carefully reloaded his pistol.

‘Mir Aziz!’ I cried.

‘Chote Sahib, Blake Sahib, Hogwood Sahib.’ He bowed. His dark silver scabbard sat on his hip. He was entirely composed. He bowed to Mountstuart. ‘The
malik-al-shuara
,’ he said. ‘I am honoured, sar.’

‘Mir Aziz,’ I whispered, ‘what is this?’

‘Chote Sahib, you should have heeded me. Why did you not go to Mirzapore?’

I looked over at Blake. He stared at Mir Aziz. I thought,
There are many of them and we have no weapons except Hogwood’s rifle
. And a worse thought:
Do we have Hogwood?

Blake shook his head. ‘I should have seen it,’ he said. ‘Buchanan didn’t send us to find Xavier and bring him back, Avery. He intended us to bring Mir Aziz to Xavier. Mir Aziz is to make sure Xavier disappears for good, and that we do too. Isn’t that right, Mir Aziz?’

‘We take these three,’ said Mir Aziz to Hogwood. I could not read his face. He kept his pistol cocked. Mir Aziz walked up to my horse and took hold of the bridle and handed it to one of the men. He smiled reassuringly.

‘You are making good fight, Chote Sahib, I am proud of you,’ he said. ‘But there is nowhere to go.’

I had no answer. The sheer degree of the betrayal was almost too much to comprehend. Mir Aziz walked over to Mountstuart, inclined his head again and took his reins. Mountstuart uttered a fatigued sigh.

No doubt we all looked exhausted and defeated. Perhaps that was why Rada Kishin was so casual as he reached to take Blake’s reins. It was a mistake. As he stretched across, Blake – moving faster than I had imagined possible – slipped from his saddle and landed behind him. With one arm he grabbed Rada Kishin round the neck and with the other he put a knife to his throat. The Thug, or dacoit, leader – whatever he was – struggled, then let his weapons drop.

‘Avery, here!’ Blake shouted. For a moment the dacoits hesitated. I kicked the man holding my reins in the back and he fell forward, then I jumped from my horse and ran to Blake, picking up Rada Kishin’s pistols.

‘Mr Hogwood?’ I said.

Once of the other dacoits stepped towards us, brandishing his sword. Blake said nothing, but he jerked Rada Kishin’s head back and nicked his neck. A thread of blood trickled from it. The dacoit chief shouted and the man stepped back hastily.

‘They are eight and we are four,’ I said to Hogwood. ‘You and I both have guns. We can win this fight.’

‘I am sorry, Avery,’ said Hogwood, and he rubbed his forehead in a familiarly weary gesture, ‘but these are my orders. Mr Blake, you cannot be allowed to reach Mirzapore. I must thank you, by the way: I never thought to come face to face with Rada Kishin himself.’

‘I did not want to believe it of you, but I see it is true,’ I said. ‘You know what they will do to us. And for what – something that brings shame on the Company. I thought you were a good man.’

‘There are greater things at stake, Avery. I am sorry, I bear you no personal ill will, but I must do what I am told.’

‘By Colonel Buchanan?’ said Blake, placing the tip of his knife once again at Rada Kishin’s throat. Hogwood stared at him, broodingly. ‘Come, Mr Hogwood, tell me. As a last request and all that.’

‘By Buchanan, yes,’ Hogwood said, breaking into a half-smile. ‘Order must be maintained. You cannot be found. Mr Blake, you really must put down your knife.’

‘And Buchanan holds the gears of promotion,’ said Blake.

‘He does. I am an able man and I am not about to spend another ten years killing myself in the provinces.’

‘That attack outside Doora. That was you.’

‘I assumed, wrongly as it turned out, when I realized what you were about, Mr Blake – thank you by the way, Lieutenant Avery – that you must be stopped.’

‘And the men at the bungalow who came for Mountstuart, that was you too?’

‘Mr Mountstuart made a lamentable agent: it became all too clear what he was doing in Jubbulpore. He was, moreover, quite out of control. And if he had died then, Mr Blake, you and Lieutenant Avery might have been spared this.’

‘And in Doora. You’re sending money and guns to the Rao’s rivals.’

‘The Rao is an unstable feature. In the long term he has no place in the Company’s India, for all Lieutenant Avery’s admirable deeds.’ He sounded impatient.

‘And Sleeman?’ said Blake.

Hogwood said, with the merest trace of a sneer, ‘Major Sleeman is a very effective policeman. He catches those he is told to catch.’

‘And now, acting on Buchanan’s orders, you are going to have these men – these Thugs – murder us.’

‘Enough. You will come with us,’ said Mir Aziz. He jerked Mountstuart’s reins; the horse took a jerky step and Mountstuart clutched the saddle, swaying. He looked very pale. Blake brought his knife closer to Kishin’s throat, and I trained my pistol upon Mir Aziz.

‘If you harm him I will shoot you dead where you stand, Mir Aziz,’ I said. ‘So. You take Buchanan’s orders too?’

Mir Aziz quietened Mountstuart’s horse. ‘Does it matter, Chote Sahib?’

‘It does to me.’

‘I do the work of the Department. In times past, Blake Sahib is doing same. What? Did you think a mere native should behave better than your own countrymen?

Blake said, ‘Yes. I thought you would. Or at least fight for yourself, not some dirty Company plot.’

‘Men do what they must, Jeremiah Blake,’ said Mir Aziz. ‘Now, talking is finished.’

‘Indeed,’ said Hogwood. And he raised his pistol and shot Mountstuart.

Mountstuart gasped, flung out his arms and fell sideways from his saddle. Indeed he did not so much fall as throw himself on to Mir Aziz. His legs tangled in his stirrups and his horse was dragged along with him. Mir Aziz was knocked off his feet.

Blake uttered a great roar and cut Rada Kishin’s throat. I saw a jet of blood spurt forth as I slipped behind his horse to gain time before the other dacoits gathered themselves to attack. Two of them came at us from the front, using the riderless horses to shield themselves from my pistols. Another had circled us, drew his tulwar and advanced on Blake. Hogwood remained on his horse a few yards from the furore – I suspected he had intended not to dirty his hands at all in the matter of our disappearance. Now he jerkily began to reload his gun, while Mir Aziz was still trying to disentangle himself from Mountstuart’s horse.

I was so intent on the scene, I did not see the dacoit come in close by the side of my horse. He dived at my left side and stabbed at me with a knife in his right hand. Somehow he misjudged his thrust; it bounced off my shoulder and I spun around, shooting him in the face at close range. He fell. With that pistol discharged, I had only the Collier.