Chapter Four

It had been four days by the time Ashwin decided it was safe for her to venture outside. He knew his comrades, that they would not be out on patrol this far south late in the evening. They would have all headed back to base. However, he did not know how far south the British soldiers might travel, and this made him incredibly uneasy.
Nevertheless, the girl needed a wash and some fresh air, so they headed to the river together at dusk. The sun had just slipped below the mountain line, the sky was a wash of pink and golden hues, gradually fading to a deep grey blue. It was a stunning sunset, and he stared at the sky determined to admire it and nothing else.

He could hear her splashing in the water, but his honour forbade him from turning to see. His mind rebelliously replaced the beautiful sky with beautiful images of a bare-skinned Emma. Angrily he shook his head from such vulgar thoughts. He cannot be thinking such things when he was her guardian. They had been talking almost non-stop since he found out she could speak his language, and he could not deny how quickly they had become close. She already knew everything about him, and he her.

Their easy friendship made it harder for him to distance himself, but he knew he must. He couldn't be thinking of her in such a way…
Ashwin calmed his breathing and strained his ears, but could not hear anything beside the movement of the water and a slight breeze in the evening air.

As he had advised, she was quick in washing herself and her muddy dress. He heard her soft voice and turned around.
'I am clean. Let's head back before the sun sets.' for a moment he was rendered speechless. Dressed in his baggy tunic, she held her wet dress in her pale hands. The baggy fabric of his uniform hung off her shoulders, dropping down to reveal clean, creamy white skin in the valley between her breasts. Her hair was damp, formed in spiralling golden curls, a beautiful transformation from the knotted mess it had been before. But most beautiful of all, was her eyes. Shining grey-blue eyes, the colour of the mountain rock, the river, the sky at dawn. He had never seen eyes like this. The last rays of sunshine illuminated her in all her natural beauty for him to see.

'Let's go.' he took the wet dress from her hands and headed back to the cave at a fast walk. He heard her trotting along, trying to keep up with his soldier pace. He attempted and failed at clearing his mind; this woman was beginning to affect him in unprecedented ways.

Emma hurried along after him, nearly tripping in the process. She didn't admit to herself the reason for her near fall was that she had been staring at his muscular back instead of the uneven ground. When he had removed his tunic for her to wear after her river bath, she had to hide her burning cheeks. His skin was so beautifully coloured, like sweet caramel. His muscles were impressive and for a moment she had wanted so badly to reach out and feel the planes of his bare chest. She had read romantic novels before, gifted by friends her own age. They all featured similar stories to what she was living; the chivalrous hero giving the woman his own clothes to spare her dignity, whilst he was rescuing the maiden from harm. It was romantic, but she knew she should not be feeling this for a Gurkha soldier - a man she could never be with, a man who would never feel the same way about the enemy white woman.

This truth caused a sinking in her heart, but she knew she had to be realistic. Although she had quickly become friends with him, although they had fascinating conversations that lasted all day, although he was achingly handsome, she had to be realistic. She was only 21 years of age, still susceptible to passing fancies. She could not let herself become attracted to him… but part of her knew it was too late for that.

They were as different as two people could be by circumstance and upbringing - and yet here she was.

When they arrived back at the cave, she hung her old white dress up from a rocky protrusion in the wall. It would never be truly clean again, but at least it was not as soiled as before. She preferred her new outfit, it was soft, warm and had a lovely smell to it. It took her a second to realise why it smelt so nice and she hid another blush. The smell was earthy, masculine… and strangely comforting.

She eased herself back down on the reed sleeping mat and blanket Ashwin had given her. Her bruises were getting less painful everyday, as was the gash on her head, still covered with a bandage.

'I think you are well enough to travel home tomorrow, at first light' said Ashwin, his face flickering in the low firelight. The thought of returning home, going back to her old life after this experience, of never seeing her rescuer again, made her heart sink even further, to an extent she had never felt before. He would be lost to her forever.

'How long will it take to get back?'

'It should be no more than a day's walk or two. However we need to be extremely wary of anyone seeing us. You know how dangerous that would be.'

Emma nodded, processing the horrible implications. 'I understand we need to be cautious.'

'Yes, after all my trouble to heal you - I don't want you captured.' He grinned at her and then went back to poking the fire. Emma loved seeing his smile. The flash of white teeth sent a strange feeling through her that she did not recognise. She was saddened again at the thought she would never see that smile again come tomorrow.

The air in the cave was warm, slowly drying her damp body. She felt fresh and rejuvenated from the cold river dip, her whole body full of feeling, despite her low mood. She moved a little closer to the fire so her hair could dry faster.

'What are you doing?'

'I was just about to sharpen my blade, I hope I won't be needing it tomorrow, but we don't know' he replied, reaching to the kukri which hung on his belt. She watched the metal shine like sunlight on still water, dazzling her. As he began grinding the stone to the knife's edge in a steady rhythm, her mind began to wander.

What would her mother and father say once she arrived home? Would they unleash their anger on the Nepalese army? If they were all like Ashwin, then she could not bear the thought of any of them dying. This was their land after all. Her people were the invaders. She felt deeply ashamed of Britannia in that moment.

For the first time since meeting, she broached the subject neither of them had wanted to say.

'I'm sorry for what my country has done to your people.'

Ashwin looked up, pausing in his activity. She met his eyes, and saw his face soften. He offered her a small smile. 'There is no need to be sorry, funny girl.' He went back to sharpening. 'You did not give the orders, did you?'

'No…I guess not. But still, this is your land. And my family, my father, he is helping to bring down your army.' Emma paused, staring into the flames. 'My father is ordering the killing of your brothers. I cannot ever comprehend the tragedy that war brings to ordinary people. Truly I am sorry.' She thought about his brothers in arms, his family back in the village, all the people he knew. Their lives were at stake, and for what? Another addition to the empire. She continued to stare in to the flames, the travesty of colonialism gaining full recognition in her young mind. How could she have been so brainwashed her entire life? Where was the glory of Britain when all it did was murder and invade?

She felt a rise in her throat, and the prickle of tears in her eyes when she thought that maybe her rescuer would become a casualty of this war. 'What if you get killed?' she spoke, her voice breaking.

Ashwin, who had been watching her intently, put down the knife entirely. He shuffled closer and took her delicate snow white fingers into his own, enclosing them in both his hands.

'Emma look at me.'

She looked up, failing to hold back the tears which flowed one by one down her cheeks. The feeling of his strong hands encompassing hers made her feel safe, but the bleakness in her heart would not be quelled so easily.

'You do not need to be so sad.' Ashwin looked down at her, his eyes reflecting on her own sorrow. She could see he was upset too, at her own sadness or his own she wasn't sure. 'This war will not last forever. Nepal will survive. Look at India - the people may be oppressed by the British, but they are alive. We will be alright.'

When his reassuring words did not stop the flow of tears, he gathered her in his arms, tucking her head under his chin. He held her shaking body close, letting her release the built-up anguish that had been heavy on her shoulders ever since she was attacked.
Emma melted into his embrace, letting herself be held and calmed with his sturdy presence. Her face nestled against his collarbone, her hand snaked up to rest against his neck, holding him close. She could feel his arms around her, and his hands on her back, one stroking her hair softly.
By the time her breathing had evened out and the tears had dried up, the sun had long since set. She felt drowsy and limp in his arms, exhausted from the tumult of her emotions.

He was still holding her, rocking slightly, despite the fact she was no longer crying. The feeling was one of the most blessed she had ever felt in her life. The warmth that seemed to flow from his body washed over her, and she found herself never wanting to leave the embrace. It felt like a dream, one she never wanted to end. His smell, his warmth, his beauty, his presence, he was everything she wanted, everything she needed.

She felt her eyelids getting heavy, and as selfish as it was of her, she couldn't keep herself awake any longer.