Read Online The Lotus and the Wind by John Masters - Free Book Online

as a demonstration of marksmanship, a passing stranger? That was unfair; Jagbir burned with fierce loyalty and affection for his clan. The man with the two rifles had not belonged to the clan.
    Jagbir trotted back up the hill, grinning widely, and brandishing one of the dead man’s rifles. He came straight to Robin. ‘For you, sahib. A present. There’s a place for it on your wall in Manali.’
    Robin took it from his hand and turned it over. ‘Thank you, Jagbir. Look, it’s engraved, chased. It’s an old jezail and beautifully made.’
    ‘I saw.’ The orderly shifted his feet, mumbling, ‘I knew you liked old things. The Afghans ought to practice with their rifles instead of writing on them. If they did, we--’
    He didn’t finish the sentence. He had already spoken for an unusually long time.
    Robin said, ‘I suppose the man’s dead?’
    ‘Yes. There was another. Got away.’
    ‘I saw.’
    Jagbir held out his hand. ‘I’ll carry it.’ Robin handed the rifle over.
    Subadar Maniraj hurried up, puffing and holding his side, creases of anxiety deep between his bloodshot eyes. ‘I’ve been looking everywhere for you, sahib.’ He turned on Jagbir. ‘Porcupine’s prick! Little lump of owl shit! Why don’t you--?’
    Robin interrupted. ‘It was my fault, Subadar-sahib. I’ve been sitting in this old temple. I found--this.’ He pulled the coin from his pocket. Maniraj did not look at it but gave Robin a sharp, purse-lipped glance, mixed of vexation, despair, and love. That expression had become familiar to Robin since he got command of the company.
    The old man said, ‘The Highlanders went over their hill and right on down, out of sight. I think we ought to go too, or their left flank will be in the air. They’re just like all British troops--never look where they’re going, never listen, chatter-chatter in the ranks. We ought to have gone before this.’
    Robin leaned back against the temple wall, noticing now for the first time that it gave him shelter from the bullets that continued to crack over the hill and smack short into the earth. The sniping blew up into one of its little flurries. The subadar knelt beside him. Jagbir stood in the open in the rigid position of attention he had assumed when the subadar started upbraiding him. Robin motioned him down and said to Maniraj, ‘Our orders are to stay here until the main attack goes in. It hasn’t yet, has it? There was to be artillery preparation. I haven’t heard any.’
    ‘I don’t know. The guns have been shooting. It sounds as if they’re still ranging. No messages on the flag. Can hardly see back there now. But we ought to go forward or those Highlanders will get into trouble.’
    ‘We’ll wait a bit,’ Robin said, after thinking briefly. ‘Until the main attack goes in, this hill is just as important as the valley down there. If we go there’ll be nothing to stop the Ghilzais walking along here and retaking it. Then they’ll be on the flank of the main attack and above our people when they get on down into the valley. Look.’ He pointed.
    The subadar shrugged his shoulders. ‘Very good, sahib.’ He rose, saluted, turned, and hurried off. Then he remembered that the riflemen could all see him and that he was being shot at. He straightened his back and slowed his pace to a stroll. Robin watched him go. If the old man were to talk to any other British officer of the regiment in the way he habitually spoke to Robin, he’d be under arrest in no time. But then the subadar knew that the other sahibs lived in the same world that he lived in, while Robin Savage was half the time somewhere else.
    Robin heard the crunch of nailed boots on the stones, sighed, and put away his coin. A voice from just below the crest cried, ‘Hey, Johnnie! Whaur’s the sab? Sahib kidder hi? ’
    Jagbir answered the speaker. ‘ Sahib y’heen chha .’ Robin thought: There must have been a gesture--no, there was no need, because there was also the other thing