Chapter 3 -- Matchmaker
We are strong.
". . . and with a marginal adjustment for local customs, I
believe we could easily make this applicable throughout Bangalore. It would provide great benefit to our people
and also generate revenue for Your Most Honored Excellency . . . "
Hadji blinked, trying desperately to focus on the man before
him. What had he been talking
about? He couldn't remember. What was he supposed to say now . . .?! "Yes, of course. A most interesting idea. But I believe I want to consider all of the implications before I make a
decision on whether or not to implement it throughout our country. Therefore, I offer the hospitality of the
palace for three days. During this time
I will consider your proposal and then we will talk again." Oh,
nice save, Sultan, he thought sarcastically to himself.
"Most wise, Excellency. However, I would not wish to take advantage of your hospitality. Since this was a long trip, and I did not
wish to be separated from my family, I have brought them with me. There are 12 in my party. I am sure we can find accommodations in the
city."
Hadji sighed inwardly. Another one. Something was going
on here. "It is not necessary. The
palace is more than capable of accommodating your entire family. Please accept my offer and bid your family
to enjoy themselves."
The man bowed low. "You are indeed most kind, Your Excellency. It shall be as you desire. I am yours to command . . . " He
bowed his way out of the audience chamber. Hadji sighed audibly. That was
the fifth one this morning, and it was only about ten o'clock. And he knew he would have to meet the man's
family sometime today. It was expected
courtesy to make the effort. And it was
also inevitable . . . the palace was large . . . but not that large.
Hadji gestured at the guard. "Alright, send in the next one." There were times, he thought glumly, when he hated being a Sultan.
The head of the palace guard opened a door at the far end of
the chamber and escorted a slight, acetic looking man across the room to stand
before Hadji. "Rajeev Subramanian, Your
Excellency, from the high provinces . . ." Through the closing door, Hadji could just see the entourage the man had
brought with him. This man and his
family made the last group look tiny.
"Greetings, Rajeev Subramanian. I bid you welcome to the palace. How may this Sultan be of service to you?" The man bowed and began speaking, however, Hadji just barely
listened. Yes, he thought, this is
going to be a very long day . . .
***
At four that afternoon, Hadji Singh, Sultan of Bangalore,
strode through his palace. He was
tired, irritable, and wanted nothing more than to be alone for a while to
meditate. In the distance, he suddenly
heard the sound of voices approaching. Looking around wildly, he spotted a tapestry hanging next to a
nearby window. Without an instant's
hesitation, he darted across the room and ducked behind the heavy folds of fabric. He could hear the group enter the corridor
and begin moving in the direction of the throne room.
"Now, remember," he heard a man's voice say, "you must not
annoy the Sultan. Be attentive and
interested to all he has to say, respond promptly to any request he makes of
you, and above all, do not prattle. He
does not need to hear mindless female chatter. This is exceedingly important to our family. A marriage between one of you and the Sultan would advance our
family substantially. It is vital that
you all make a good impression on his Excellency. Is this clear?" A chorus
of soft voices responded to him. As the
sounds of their passage receded, Hadji peered out from behind the
tapestry. He could just see the back of
one of the men who had visited him today. With him were five women, all in exotic and traditional garb. They were moving in the direction of the
open air courtyard across from the throne room. Five minutes later and he would
not have been able to avoid them. He
slipped from behind the tapestry, darted silently across the open corridor and
through a cleverly concealed doorway into a narrow, dark corridor. This passage would lead him to the end of
another open courtyard in the wing of the palace where he and his mother
lived. With any luck, he should be able
to avoid all of their visitors and make it to the safety of his personal
chambers without being stopped.
As he moved through the dark corridor, he thought grimly
about what the man had just said. It
did little more than confirm what he had already begun to suspect. And it made him angry. He was going to shut himself in his
quarters, meditate until he felt calmer and more rested, and then he was going
to go find his mother. They needed to
have a serious talk about what was going on in this palace.
***
The soft knock was repeated several times before it finally
penetrated Hadji's meditative state. He
returned to awareness reluctantly, not yet prepared to face the confrontation
that he knew was inevitable. He
breathed deeply trying to capture and hold the calmness that had surrounded him
just moments before. It was important
that he be able to hold his temper.
"Come." The door
opened softly and his mother entered. She looked at him for a moment and then turned and closed the door. Without a word, she moved to sit on a divan
against the wall. Hadji remained
sitting, eyes closed, and relaxed back into a semi-trance again. He would not be pushed. This discussion would be held on his terms. She could wait.
Long minutes passed in silence. Finally, Neela Singh began to fidget. She was unaccustomed to being made to wait and she found herself
getting irritable. This was uncalled
for. She had better things to do than
sit here being ignored.
"This must stop, mother."
He still sat, eyes closed, in that relaxed, meditative
posture. He showed no signs of outward
tension. But something in his voice
warned his mother that he was not as calm as he outwardly appeared. She looked at him for a moment and then
responded, "You are the Sultan of Bangalore. Your country's interests must be your most immediate concern."
"I am fully aware of that."
"Then you must also be aware of how important it is for you
to have an heir. There must be
continuity so the people are assured that their future is secure."
"The day will come when I will produce one."
"To do so, you must have a wife. One that is befitting your station and is capable of producing a
child."
"The day will come when I will have one of those as well."
"That time has come, my son."
"No!" For the first
time, he opened his eyes and looked at her. And she saw that he was angry
. . . very angry. "I will not be pushed
in this matter. When I find the right
woman I will take a wife, and not before."
"Jessie Bannon would make a suitable wife . . ."
"Jessie Bannon belongs to my brother," he responded
coldly. "Heart and soul . . . for both
of them. I am fully aware that you have
tried to maneuver a match between the two of us for the last several years. It is one of the reasons that Jessie comes
here so seldom any more. Understand
clearly, Mother that she is like a sister to me. She has never been more than that, and she never will be. We are both happy with that
arrangement. It gives me great joy to
see Jonny and Jessie together and happy. Do not interfere."
"Then if you will not look to the most logical choice, you
must look elsewhere. You are 19 years
old and the confirmed Sultan of this country. It would be a different matter if your father was still alive. Or if you had brothers who could succeed
you. But you choose to live a dangerous
life with the Quests. Should something
happen to you, this country would be without a leader. I can serve in your stead as long as you are
alive. But if something should happen,
I would not be permitted to continue to rule . . . nor would I want to. But there is no clear line of
succession. The fight for control would
be both violent and bloody. The only
way to assure that this does not happen is to establish the lineage without
doubt. And that means you must produce
a legitimate heir. And it must be done
soon."
Hadji rose fluidly to his feet and began to pace. "Mother, I am not ready to be married. Being Sultan and trying to complete my
education is more than enough for me right now."
Neela shook her head. "We will find a girl that is healthy and strong, from a good family . .
. one that demonstrates all of the necessary traits to make a good Sultan's
wife. All that will then be necessary
will be to appear at state functions together and for you to father the child,
perhaps several children. And it is
possible that in time you will come to find it is a good match. I can arrange the marriage if you would
prefer not going through the process of meeting all of the candidates."
Hadji stopped pacing and stared at his mother in
horror. "You expect me to marry a
complete stranger? Like this was some
sort of business deal?"
"Of course. That is
exactly what it is."
"What are you going to do, go with the highest bidder?" He was surprised at the bitterness in his
voice.
"Dowry will, of course, be a factor. As will her family's political connections,
their relative wealth and influence, and the stability of their own
province. The alliance must help to
solidify your position as well. This
was one of the aspects of taking Jessie Bannon as a wife that had serious
drawbacks. Several of your advisors
argued strongly against her. But I
suspect she would have been liked by the people and that would have offset
much."
"You . . . have . . . been . . . discussing . . . this . . .
behind . . . my . . . back?" Hadji
gritted. His hands were clenched into
fists and his eyes were black as coal.
His mother responded calmly. "Of course. It is our
job." She rose fluidly to her feet and
began moving toward the door. "There is
a dinner reception for all of the palace guests and their families tonight at
8:00 p.m. This will give you the
opportunity to meet all of the likely candidates. They should all meet the necessary minimum qualifications. It will simply be a matter of narrowing the
field down to the single best choice, and then negotiating the arrangements to
the satisfaction of both parties." She
stopped in the open doorway and looked back at him. "You can tell me tomorrow if you have any particular preference
among the girls offered. But we must move
quickly. I plan to have the agreements
completed by the end of the week. A six
month betrothal should be adequate. That will provide enough time for proper appearances and will also allow
the necessary physical to ensure she can produce children. Once the wedding is over, I would hope you
could produce a child fairly quickly. I
will see you in the main dining room at 8:00 p.m. Please do not be late." And with that, she turned and left, closing the door behind her.
Hadji stood, staring after her, feeling totally overwhelmed.
***
It was two in the morning, and Hadji sat in the midst of one
of the gardens near his chambers in the palace. A light breeze was blowing, causing the air to be filled with the
fragrance of exotic flowers. The moon
shed a silvery light over the entire courtyard, giving it an unreal aura. He could hear the soft splash of water from
the fountain at the center of the garden as it tumbled down its artificial
waterfall to land in the pool at its base. It was a peaceful sound.
Normally, the surroundings and the sound of the water could
calm him. But tonight nothing seemed to
help. Hadji had come to this quiet spot
following the reception and dinner arranged by his mother. He had attended. Reluctantly. There was no
way to get out of it. And what he had
seen had left him shaken.
There had been about 100 people present, largely fathers
with their daughters. More like livestock to market, he
thought. And he had been forced to meet
every one of them. In every case, the
man had brought his daughters forward like they were merchandise and outlined
what he felt were the strong points of each girl. This one was quite beautiful. This one was docile and well behaved. This one was strong and healthy and would provide him with strong
sons. None of them had said anything
about their intelligence, wit or personality.
And the girls . . . ! They had ranged in age from 12 to 25 years old. Twelve years old . . . he simply couldn't
believe it when her father presented her . . . and pointed out that her strong
point was her youth! Without exception,
they had stood before him, head bowed, eyes downcast, acting totally cowed and
subservient. At first, he had tried to
talk with them when they were presented, but he gave that up after the fourth
or fifth girl. Either they weren't
intelligent enough to have opinions of their own or they were so well trained
they could no longer think for themselves. The night had seemed endless.
And in the background he could see his mother and four of
his advisors. After each man and his
entourage had been presented to Hadji, they would move to this group of five
people for further discussion. One of
them had a pad of paper and was making notes. By the end of the evening, Hadji was physically ill and wanted nothing
more than to escape. He had come here
in the hope of calming down so he could think more clearly and decide what
needed to be done.
But it wasn't working. The only thing that kept repeating over and over in his head was that he
wanted to go home . . . back to Maine and his family. When they came to Calcutta all those years ago looking for Pasha
after he had been kidnapped by his cousin Vikram, he never dreamed he would end
up in this position. He never wanted to
be Sultan. All he ever wanted to do was
train under Dr. Quest and eventually become a permanent part of Quest
Enterprises. Hadji had come to love
that man like he was his natural father and would be eternally grateful to him
for taking him in and giving him a home. And no two brothers could possibly be closer than Jonny and he
were. More and more he was coming to
realize that his heart was in Maine, not here in Bangalore.
He smiled grimly, thinking again of all the girls he had met
at the reception this evening. So his mother
had originally thought to arrange for Jessie to be his wife. What a mess that would have been. Jessie would have been ready to kill her
within a month.
It was odd, thinking about it. He had never considered the possibility of Jessie Bannon as a girlfriend. And he wasn't really sure why. She was everything that he thought he
wanted, particularly for a wife. She
was intelligent, inquisitive, friendly, and a lot of fun to be with. And she was breathtakingly beautiful. So why hadn't he ever thought about her that
way? He considered it and the answer
wasn't long in coming. From the first
time Jonny Quest laid eyes on her, Hadji had known there was no other girl for
him. They had fought and yelled and
screamed and argued for years, and through it all Hadji could see it, like a
beacon of light shining through from the future. He would observe Jonny watching her and the look was so
clear. He was surprised their fathers
hadn't seen it as well.
When Jonny was younger and he hadn't realized how he felt,
his actions said it all. He would take
crazy chances and risk his life to defend her, cover for her when she ran the
risk of getting in trouble with Race, and care for her in every way he could. Hadji remembered the two of them going up to
bed one night when Jonny was about 13. Jessie had arrived that afternoon for an extended stay and she had been
completely exhausted from all the traveling. She had gone upstairs to bed early and had literally collapsed on her
bed, sound asleep. She was still fully
dressed and lay on top of the bedspread. Jonny had seen her through her open bedroom door. He had stopped and looked at her for a
minute, then went into the room and walked up to the bed. He had taken her shoes off, removed her
cardigan, unbuttoned the collar and cuff buttons of her shirt, slid a pillow
under her head, found a blanket, and covered her up gently. She had stirred and made some small sound
just as he finished, and Hadji had not missed the soft smile or tender gesture
as he brushed the hair out of her face. Race and Dr. Quest had come upstairs while he was caring for her and had
just stood and watched. Jonny had come
out of her room, shut her door softly, said good night to all of them, and
walked away without another word. That
was the night Hadji had known for sure. Jonny had found the girl he would spend the rest of his life with. And the day he saw that same look turned on
Jonny by Jessie was one of the happiest days of his life. They were a good match and he was overjoyed
to see them happy with each other.
And he knew this was why this entire situation had him so
upset. He wanted that for himself as
well. Since he had come to the Quest
household, he had always been surrounded by that deep devotion to a
lifemate. Jonny and Jessie, for all
that they fought and squabbled regularly, were committed to each other. Dr. Quest's love for his wife, Rachel, had
never died even though she had been dead for well over ten years. And Hadji had always considered Race the
ultimate lady's man, which he probably was, but the last couple of months had
proven that even Race could find someone who would catch and hold him for a
lifetime. And now his mother was
telling him that marriage was little more than a business deal whose prime
purpose was to maximize the business and political interests of all parties
concerned. It left him feeling betrayed
and slightly sickened.
And the worst part of it all was that he knew they were
right. His situation was very different
from that of Jonny or Race or Dr. Quest. There had to be an established line of succession to ensure stability
for his country. So that meant he had
to consider more than just his own interests. What was more, it meant it was time that he recognized the need to let
go of his former life and accept the responsibilities that he was born to
carry. His mother handled things well
during his absences, but it was unfair to her to continue to ask her to cover
for him. He should select a school,
direct all of his energies into completing his degree as quickly as possible,
and then return to Bangalore permanently.
The more he considered it, the more he knew this was what he
had to do. The idea that he would have
to leave the life he loved with the Quests left him more than a little depressed,
but there really was no other choice. This is what he had been born to do . . . it was his responsibility and
he just had to accept it.
And as for getting married and fathering a successor, he
would tell his mother that he would take a wife when he returned from
completing his schooling. And he would
not back down. He simply couldn't bring himself to consider
marrying any of the women he had met tonight. And if they didn't like it . . . well, as Jonny would say, Screw 'em if they can't take a joke.