“Not simple, but possible. Go to Namir on the Street of the Palms, a brilliant craftsman. Tell him to sell you a toy like the ones he occasionally made for Kartauk. Maybe something with an elephant. The maharajah’s mad about elephants.”
Was it possible Kartauk was right about the maharajah? Eagerness began to surge through Ruel as he remembered what he had heard about the monarch’s unreasonable demands, his tantrums and idiosyncracies.
He’s not interested in anything but his toy of a railroad.
He likes a bit of flash.
Everything he had heard about the maharajah substantiated Kartauk’s claim. The maharajah’s self-indulgent behavior and unreasonable demands could certainly have been that of a child.
“Why isn’t anyone else aware of this?”
“Perhaps they are, but it’s not wise to question the sanity of a ruler who has the power of life and death. It’s safer to assume he’s merely spoiled than feeble-minded. Besides, not everyone has my great powers of perception.”
“If I do send the maharajah a toy, what guarantee will I have he won’t merely accept it and then forget I exist?”
“No guarantee. I gave you the key, it’s your task to unlock the door. I’ll be interested to see how you accomplish it.” He scowled. “And stop frowning. I knew I should have waited until tomorrow to tell you. Now you’ll be plotting and planning and I’ll have a much harder time getting the forehead right.”
’ve decided the toy has to be in two parts,” Ruel told Ian. “I owe one more day to Kartauk, so will you go to see this Namir tomorrow? I want one of the figures of the toy to be a maharajah, the other an elephant. Tell him he may use his own judgment for the rest as long as the first part of the toy is fascinating enough to intrigue and yet still whet the appetite for the second half.”
“Quite a challenge. How much time will he have?”
“Three days. The tracks are due to be joined in another six, and I don’t want excitement over the completion of the maharajah’s big toy to distract from his interest in this one.”
“Isn’t it dangerous to withhold something he wants from the maharajah?”
“Probably, but I’m counting on him wanting the other half of the toy more than feeding me to the crocodiles. Besides, he likes the British and I’ll make sure to involve Colonel Pickering in the final negotiations.”
Ian nodded. “Very well, I’ll go see Namir in the morning. I imagine you’ll have to pay him fairly well.”
“Anything he wants. Who knows? I may not have to pay the maharajah as much as I thought for Cinnidar. Kartauk had some interesting insights into his character.”
“You like Kartauk?”
“He’s a keen judge of character. I don’t have to like him to appreciate his astuteness.”
“But you do like him?” Ian persisted.
“Ian, dammit, I told you—yes, I like him.”
“Good. And you like this Li Sung?”
“Well enough.” He scowled. “All right, I’m positively brimming with warm and felicitous feelings. Satisfied?”
“Oh, yes, things are going quite nicely.”
“I wouldn’t have thought you’d be so overjoyed at the prospect of my possible success with the maharajah. If I persuade him to sell me Cinnidar, you know I won’t go back to Glenclaren.”
“If Cinnidar is best for you, then that’s what I want.” Ian smiled gently. “Lately I’ve begun to suspect there’s more than gold waiting for you on Cinnidar. I’m not sure it’s even the gold you really want. You need roots and a home that you’ll love as much as I love Glenclaren. That’s all I’ve ever wanted for you, Ruel.”
Christ, Ruel felt as if something hard and tight were breaking up inside him as he looked at his brother. He wanted to reach out and touch him, clap him affectionately on the shoulder as he had done when they were boys together. Everything seemed to be shifting, changing around him since he had come to Kasanpore.
Or was Ian right and it was Ruel who was changing?
No, he couldn’t accept that the lessons of a lifetime could be so easily discarded. He may have allowed Jane and Ian to touch him on a certain level, but once he had paid his debt he’d be able to dismiss them from his thoughts and go about his own business.
“I’m glad you’re not disappointed,” he said in a reserved tone. “Good night, Ian.”
Ian smiled again. “Good night, Ruel.”
“In four more days we’ll be joining the rails,” Patrick said. “Lord, and it’s about time. I’ll be glad to see the last of this foul country. This last week has almost killed me.”
“I could come tomorrow and help you,” Jane offered.
“I wouldn’t think of it,” Patrick said. “You just stay here and let me do the work for a change.” He stood up and stretched. “I’ve got to get to bed. I’d forgotten how tired a man gets working the rails.”
“But I really want to help, Patrick,” she said eagerly. “Remember how it was in the beginning when we worked together in Salisbury?”
“You’ve done your share. Now let me do mine.”
She was disappointed but reluctantly decided not to insist. Patrick had cut his drinking down to less than a quarter of a bottle a day since he had taken over the site from her. If it was responsibility that had made this change in him, she would be foolish to rob him of it. “Well, if you change your mind—” She paused and then said casually, “Since you won’t let me help with the construction, I hope you won’t mind if I make the trial run to Narinth?”
“Why should I mind?” Patrick yawned. “I’ll be glad to stay home and rest my bones after the last week. I’ve got to take the maharajah and all those highbrow nabobs to Narinth the next day, and he’ll probably find a hundred things wrong.”
She hadn’t expected any other answer but still felt relieved. “Then it’s settled. I’ll bring Li Sung from Narinth to engineer and I’ll ride the fireman seat.”
“Whatever you like.” Patrick moved toward the bedroom. “It’s about time Li Sung came back and did some real work for a change. I bet he’s not out in the rain working the rails.” He glanced back over his shoulder. “And I noticed our friend MacClaren quit us the minute the rains started. I keep telling him I’m the only one who has the gumption to put up with this foul weather.”
“You do? When did you last see him?” she asked with careful casualness.
“Oh, he drops in at the site every day or so for a cup of coffee or a word.”
She hadn’t known Ruel had gone back to the site after that first afternoon and for an instant felt a completely unreasonable flicker of gratitude. After all, Ruel was not keeping an eye on Patrick for her sake. He wanted the railway completed as fast as possible so that he could get Kartauk out of Kasanpore.
Ruel staring at her across the temple, his gaze searing, demanding, holding.
“Your cheeks are flushed,” Patrick said idly. “Are you coming down with something?”
Her discomposure must be blatantly evident if Patrick, who never noticed anything about her, commented on it, she thought in exasperation. “No, I’m just feeling the heat. It seems worse since the rains came.” She jumped up from her chair and bid Patrick good night.
She would get over this craving, she thought desperately. She was not an animal.
Yet her body’s response to Ruel was like that of an animal in heat. There was not a moment in his presence she was not aware of him. When she had met his gaze in the temple she had felt a melting, a yielding that had frightened her.
She would ignore it and eventually this hunger would go away.
Dear God, it had to go away.
• • •
Ruel carefully placed the toy in a large box and then wrapped the package in bright crimson velvet and tied it with a flamboyant white satin bow.
An hour later he handed the package to the head footman at the palace, together with an extravagant bribe and the promise of an even bigger one if the maharajah received the gift at once.
The message came the next morning in the form of a summons from the palace to appear immediately for an audience with the Maharajah Dulai Savitsar.
An hour later he was ushered into the reception chamber to find the maharajah kneeling on the floor, the toy board on the carpet before him. The maharajah’s small, plump frame was garbed in a brilliant red brocade tunic and white silk trousers, and he bore little resemblance to his son, Abdar. Gray peppered the ruler’s bushy mustache and sleek black hair and, at that moment, there was no trace of Abdar’s blank impassiveness about his father’s demeanor. He was clearly displeased.
“You’re this Ruel MacClaren?” The maharajah didn’t wait for an answer but went on peevishly. “I’m very angry with you. It does not work. There’s something wrong with it.”
The four-foot board at which he was staring was a representation of a jungle with each tree, bush, flower, and animal exquisitely crafted and amazingly lifelike. The central figure on the board was a tiny maharajah wearing a gold tunic and tiny bejeweled crown. Ian had told Ruel that Namir had worked a year creating this elaborate toy and had found it necessary to substitute only a few of the figures to suit Ruel’s requirements.
“You see?” The maharajah pressed the mechanism.
A lion sprang at the tiny crowned figure, appeared to just miss him, but really triggered another mechanism, causing the maharajah to rise in the air and be lost to view behind the foliage of the branches of a tree. This action in turn triggered another mechanism that caused a figure identical to the first maharajah to spring down on the other side of the tree to stand before a rhinoceros. The rhinoceros charged and the second royal figure rose to be lost to view in the next tree. The motion of attack and evasion continued across the board, using various animals and reptiles with the tiny maharajah always evading the threat until he reached the edge of the board which resembled a high cliff. The final mechanism sent the maharajah hurtling into the air and then stopped, suspended over the abyss.
“Look at that. He just hangs there like an overripe pomegranate,” the maharajah complained. “Everyone knows a maharajah must always triumph against fate. It is most unsatisfying.”
“That’s because you don’t have the other part of the toy.”
The maharajah looked up quickly. “What other part?”
Ruel pointed to the almost invisible slots in the side of the toy. “The second half of the toy slides in here. The maharajah survives the fall from the cliff and lands before a tiger, then springs into another tree and then lands on the back of a magnificent white elephant, where he is safe at last.”
The maharajah’s eyes brightened. “An elephant?”
“A white elephant. What other animal is worthy to bear a maharajah?”
“That’s what I told my High Adviser, but they cannot find a real one for me. They keep making excuses.” He frowned with dissatisfaction at the figure hanging over the cliff. “I must have the other part of the toy. What kind of man are you to give me only half a gift?”
“But an extraordinary gift, one worthy of Your Majesty’s cleverness. I saw it in the shop and knew instantly it was fit only for a man of your taste and intelligence.”
“But I need the other part.”
“I’m searching for it now. Unfortunately, I seem to have misplaced it.”
The maharajah’s gaze narrowed on Ruel’s face. “And what would it take to help you find it?” He sighed. “I suppose you wish me to give you a present in return? Everyone wants something from me. What do you want me to give you?”
“Sell, not give. You own a small island in the Indian Ocean called Cinnidar I wish to purchase. I’ll give you forty thousand pounds for it.”
“Cinnidar? I do not recall …” He impatiently waved a plump, dimpled hand. “It cannot be very important if I don’t remember the place. I will ask my adviser if you offer a fair price. Meanwhile, you will continue to look for the other half of the toy?”
“Diligently. May I call on you tomorrow with word of my progress?”
“Yes, yes.” The maharajah turned back to the jungle board, pressed the button to reset the mechanism, and watched enraptured as the lion rose in the air. “Tomorrow.”
Hallelujah, Ruel thought jubilantly as he walked down the palace steps. It was only the first step but a damn big one. All the prospects looked bright. Even the rain that had been pouring down when he entered the palace had temporarily stopped. The murky sky would no doubt soon open up again, but it was still a good sign.
“The hotel, sahib?” the bearer asked as he climbed into the ricksha.
“Yes.” Then on impulse he said, “No.” He was brimming with hope he wanted to share but suddenly he knew it was not with Ian he wanted to share it. “Take me to the bungalow of Sahib Reilly.”
The cobra wove back and forth, his onyx eyes fixed malevolently on the dog excitedly darting back and forth directly in front of him.
Dear God, don’t let him strike, Jane prayed as she edged inside the stable door. She carefully set the bowl of scraps she’d brought for Sam on the floor and reached for the knife in her boot.
The snake was coiled in the middle of the stable directly in front of Bedelia’s stall. If he didn’t strike at the yapping dog dancing in front of him, he might turn on the mare.
“For God’s sake, hush, Sam,” she breathed.
The idiotic dog paid no attention to her, of course. His barking grew more shrill as the snake suddenly arched to a height of nearly four feet.
The blasted cobra must be at least ten feet long. If he launched that length at Sam, the dog would never be able to evade him. She glanced impatiently down at the knife in her hand and tossed it aside. A dagger would be no good as a weapon against the snake. To use it she would have to be too close. That pitchfork propped against the wall would be much more effective.
She froze as the snake’s head swiveled in her direction. Her heart was thundering so hard it seemed louder than the uproar Sam was making. Though she was beyond the cobra’s reach, fear still iced through her as she was pinned by those beady eyes.
Sam bounced to one side and the cobra’s head swung toward him.
Jane’s hand closed on the handle of the pitchfork.
“Back, Sam!” she cried desperately. “For heaven’s sake, stop teasing him.” She moved slowly in a circle until she was behind the snake.
“What the hell are you doing?”
She pulled her gaze from the cobra to see Ruel standing in the doorway. His skin was death-pale and gleaming with sweat. “Get away from him.”
“Be quiet!” Jane said sharply, her gaze shifting back to the snake. “And stand perfectly still. If you scare him, he might strike at Sam.”
“I don’t give a damn about Sam,” he said hoarsely. “Get away from that goddamn snake before he kills you.”
Jane ignored him and took a step closer. Four yards from the cobra. Three yards.
Ruel muttered an obscenity. “All right, I’ll get that crazy hound.” He took a step toward the dog. “Just get out of here!”
The cobra caught the motion and reared higher, hissing.
“Don’t move,” Jane whispered. Ruel froze.
The snake was confused, his attention divided between Sam and Ruel. He had forgotten about her. If she were quick, she might be able to—
She dashed forward, holding the pitchfork out in front of her. She caught the snake’s body between the tines and slung it across the stable. His long body struck the wall. Stunned, he fell writhing to the floor.
Sam immediately darted after it.
“No!” she screamed.
Ruel cursed steadily as he ran after the dog and scooped him up only a scant foot away from the serpent.
“Hold him!” Jane pushed Ruel aside and brought the wooden handle of the pitchfork down on the snake’s puffed head with all her strength. She struck again and again and again….
She stoppe
d, breathless, as she realized the snake was no longer moving. “I … think he’s … dead.”
Ruel didn’t answer.
She poked at the snake with the pitchfork. No response. “It’s safe to let Sam down now.” She turned to look at Ruel, “He was a big one, wasn’t he? I don’t remember ever seeing one that size around here. They’re usually much— Let me go!”
Ruel’s hands were grasping her shoulders. “Damn you.” He shook her, his eyes blazing in his white face. “Damn you!”
“Get your hands off me or you’ll get this pitchfork in your belly,” she said fiercely.
“Do you think I care? You and your damn pitchfork and your goddamn snake.” He shook her again. “I could—” His hands fell away from her, and he staggered toward the door.
“Where are you going?” she asked, startled by the sudden abandonment.
“To throw up.” Ruel’s voice was muffled as he dashed outside.
She gazed after him in astonishment. She had been terribly frightened too, but Ruel’s extreme response was completely unexpected. She impulsively started after him and then stopped. Li Sung hated to be seen in moments of weakness, and Ruel would probably be even more resentful. While she was still shaking with her own fear she didn’t feel up to handling his bad temper. She turned back to Sam, who was sniffing at the dead snake. “All right, you troublemaker, let’s get rid of him.”
When she left the stable a few minutes later, Ruel was scooping water from the horse trough onto his face. His slicker lay on the ground beside him and his damp shirt clung to his torso. His face was still pale as he lifted his head to look at her. “Sorry,” he said curtly. “I don’t like snakes.”
“Neither do I.” She shrugged. “But I got used to them. I grew up in tents, and it wasn’t unusual for one to come visiting.”
“Why in the hell didn’t you do what I said?” he asked harshly. “You could have been—”
“Sam,” she interrupted. “The snake would have killed him.”
“And that’s worth risking your life for?”
“He belongs to me,” she said simply. “You have to take care of what belongs to you.”