Chapter 12 -- New Love
And if your heart surrenders,
You'll need me to hold.
The camp was quiet. Everyone had gone into the village a few miles away to watch a healing
ceremony that the elders were performing for one of the younger members of the
tribe. Jessie had decided not to
go. She wanted to try to talk with
Jonny . . . see if she could find out had been bothering him for the last
couple weeks. Now she knew . . . and
she desperately wished she didn't. She
sat alone in the dark, tears pouring down her cheeks, as sobs racked her entire
body. She was so wrapped up in her own
misery, she didn't become aware of another presence until Ruben sat down beside
her. He reached a hand out and stroked
her hair gently.
"Que pasa, mi gatita
rojo? What has happened?" Jessie shook her head, gasping, her tears
continuing unabated. He reached out and
gathered her into his arms, holding her tightly against him. He murmured to her softly, rocking her
gently and stroking her hair. Slowly,
as her tears began to subside, the words began to come. In stumbling sentences she began to tell him
about Francesca Hamilton. About Francesca's first appearance in Rockport, her
realization of how much Jonny meant to her when she thought Francesca was
taking him away, the realization that something was seriously wrong with
Francesca and her father, and the night in the Quest Compound when they both
found out that Jonny had been set up to allow Francesca and her father access
to Dr. Quest's work. After a time, she
told him about the attacks by Francesca's father and his gang in London and
Egypt, the weeks in the hospital, and the months of therapy. And finally, she told him that she had found
out that Francesca had returned to Rockport, and was dating Jonny in her
absence.
"Oh, Ruben, how could he do this to me? I love him so much. And I always believed he loved me, too. But now he's gone back to her again. I can't compete with her. She's tiny and beautiful and sexy and so
perfect and . . . and . . . and everything I'm not. She's going to take him away again, and I can't stop her . . . "
"No, gatita! You mustn't say such things. It is not possible that there could be
another girl more beautiful than you! You are sweet and lovely and caring, and if he cannot see that, then he
is so much of a fool, he doesn't deserve you. Please, my love, you must not cry over him any longer. He is not worth it."
She stopped, stunned by his words. "Ruben . . . "
"I know it may not be right to tell you this now, amada, but I am absolutely crazy about
you. And I cannot sit by and watch him
treat you this way any longer." He
caressed her face gently, pleading with her, "Please do not cry any more, my
love, please . . . " And in a sudden,
unexpected movement, he drew her to him again and kissed her deeply.
She was dazed. Her
emotions were in turmoil, and she was totally confused. Somehow, in that instant, the only thing
that seemed solid in her whole life was the man that sat there, holding and
comforting her. He was gentle and real
and he cared for her. Her defenses were
shattered; the pain utterly overwhelming her. Her need for solace was so great that without thinking, she turned to
him. For a long time, she clung to him
as he kissed and caressed her. In the
days to come, she would never know if her response to him was due completely to
the pain, or if there was an unexplained, indefinable attraction that had been
evolving between them. All she knew, in
that instant, was how grateful she was that Ruben was there. Eventually, he walked her back to her tent,
and with soft, loving words, he kissed her deeply again, and sent her to bed.
For a long time she lay in the noisy darkness, her mind an
absolute blank. She didn't want to
think, because she knew that if she did she would have to confront everything
that had happened. So she resolutely
shut all thoughts away, and just lay there, concentrating on nothing. Slowly, lethargy enveloped her, and she felt
herself drifting toward sleep. As she
lay, hovering on the knife-edge of consciousness, her defenses slipped and she
thought of Jonny. She knew they were finished. His return to Francesca had destroyed any hope they ever had of a future
together. And with that, she fell into
blessed unconsciousness.
***
Rajeev Subramanian stood in the Sultan's main audience
chamber, waiting uneasily. It was 10:15
a.m. He had been awakened at 6:00 a.m.
and informed by a palace guard that he was expected to be in this room promptly
at 10:00 a.m. to meet with the Sultan. When he attempted to ascertain why he was summoned, he was told hautily
that he was not to question why, he was simply to be there. So at 10:00 a.m. he was shown into the huge,
echoing room, where he was left standing, completely alone. The closing of the door behind him sounded
almost like a death knell.
He felt somewhat numb. He had not gotten to sleep until almost 4:00 a.m. He and a number of other family members had
searched the palace for his middle daughter until well after midnight. He was angry at her defiance, and determined
to bend her to his will. This business
deal was vital to the fortunes and well-being of his family, and he simply
could not allow her wayward nature to interfere with its completion. True, Subir Rafiq was not the world's best
candidate for a husband, but the value he brought to the marriage through his
family was incalculable. And it was not
as though Rajeev could hope for a much better match for Kefira. The number of suitors who showed interest in
her were few, particularly compared to her older sister. And those few that did, she quickly drove
away with her wild talk of working in the mines.
In the mines! Rajeev
began to pace agitatedly. As though any
woman could do a reasonable job at that kind of work! It was a man's job. It
was that simple. True, she seemed to
have a remarkable comprehension of the basic concepts. It had always been frustrating to him that
she seemed to grasp higher mathematics at a glance, when his eldest son was
lucky to even pass basic arithmetic. But the idea of her working in the mines was unthinkable!
When the palace guards had begun to look at him strangely,
he called off the search, and returned to their quarters. He was certain she would return soon
enough. After all, where else could she
go? So he had sat down to wait. He had been angry. He knew that much of the situation was his own fault. He had pampered her, allowing her to
accompany him on the trips to the mines from a very early age. He had been sure that she would grow out of
her fixation. And her mother had
obviously not done her job, either, because the girl simply did not know her
place. Her social skills were a
disgrace! However, as the hours
progressed and she did not return, his anger turned to worry . . . and finally
to honest fear. He had eventually
fallen asleep in his chair -- which was where he was when the summons had come
from the Sultan.
He looked at his watch again . . . 10:25. Where was the Sultan? He had a reputation for being prompt. Uneasily, Rajeev Subramanian searched his
conscience as he waited . . .
***
The Sultan of Bangalore sat at the opposite end of the
palace in a reception area near the entrance to his mother's quarters. He was well aware of the time. And he wasn't worried. Rajeev Subramanian could wait. Hadji Singh wanted the man rattled, and
making him wait was a good start.
Furthermore, it was important that he talk with Kefira
before he met with her father. He had
arrived a short time ago and had sent Vila to bring her to him. But when the door opened, it was not Kefira
who appeared, but his mother. Neela
looked at him sternly and said, "You
have the head of a very important house awaiting you. It is not appropriate for you to be here."
Hadji rose and stared at his mother. "I am well aware that the man waits for
me. And he will continue to do so. I will talk with him when I am ready . . .
and not before. It is necessary for me
to talk with Kefira before I speak with her father. I have given her as much time to rest as I possibly can, but I can
give her no longer. Bring her here,
mother."
"It is not seemly for you to associate with her in this
manner, especially if you are serious about making her your wife. I must approach her father and discuss this
matter with him. A dowry must be settled
upon. There are a host of details that
must be worked out before it is appropriate that you meet with her again. And . . ."
Any further words Neela might have said caught in her throat
as she looked at her son. The fury in
his face was unmistakable. This was not
the naive, manageable boy she had been reunited with five years ago. This was a formidable, savvy, opinionated
young man who was not one to be crossed . . . even by his own mother. Hadji stared at her in silence for a long time. Finally, in a voice that was low and icy
cold, he said, "I was not asking your advice or seeking your permission. I am here to see Kefira Subramanian. And I want . . . "
He broke off abruptly, staring beyond his mother. Neela turned and found herself face-to-face
with the young lady in question. Kefira
stood straight and proud, her head held high, and looked from one to the other
calmly. Finally, with a last look at
Neela, she turned and bowed deeply to Hadji. "I am yours to command, Excellency. How may I serve?"
Hadji looked at her for an instant, and then bowed his head
slightly in acknowledgment. In a calm
and formal voice, he said, "I thank
you for your offer of service, Kefira Subramanian. There is a matter of utmost urgency that I wish to discuss with
you. Would you do me the honor of
walking in the palace gardens, while we discuss issues of mutual interest?"
"It shall be as you wish, Excellency." Her response was equally formal, with just
the proper inflection of humble submission. But he also sensed another undercurrent he couldn't quite identify.
Neela stepped forward immediately. "I will accompany you."
"No, Mother, you will not." Neela opened her mouth to protest, but was silenced by a single sharp
look from her son. "We will return shortly." Dryly, he added, "You can rest assured I will do nothing to tarnish her
reputation. The gardens are a public
place and we will stay in sight." As he
turned and gestured to Kefira to precede him through the door, he caught his
mother's look of disapproval. But she
offered no further protest. The look he
caught on Kefira's face was clear . . . it was amusement.
***
"Jessie."
The voice was soft and had a low, moaning quality to
it. Jessie turned her head toward the
voice, her eyes still closed. "Oh, God,
Jess, you are so beautiful . . ." The
voice came again. This time it was
accompanied by the feel of a hand gently caressing her hair and the side of her
face.
Slowly, she became aware of the feel of a soft, spongy
surface against her back. A soft wind
caressed her skin, and she shivered slightly as it ran up and down her
body. In the background, she could hear
the sound of running water. It bubbled
and splashed quietly, lulling her into a dreamlike state. Lethargically, she wondered where she
was. The gentle hand moved slowly from
the side of her face, down her neck and across her shoulder, and finally cupped
her breast. She could feel her lethargy
dissolve as the hand gently tugged at the nipple. A burst of sensation shot through her like lightning. She heard a low moan and it took her a
moment to realize that she was making the noise. For an instant, the sensation disappeared. But before she could protest, it was replace
with the feeling of heat and dampness as his mouth closed over the nipple, and
his tongue teased it. At the same time,
his roving hand moved slowly down her body to stroke her waist and caress her
stomach. She moaned again, concentrating
intensely on the sensations rippling through her body. The hot mouth moved from one breast to the
other and then slowly up her chest, along the curve of her shoulder, and came
to rest on her neck. The sensations
were unlike anything she had ever known before. The two of them had experimented before . . . in the car, along
the beach, even in the house once or twice when they thought it unlikely they
would get caught by either of their fathers. But they had never gone this far. The dream-like quality of the entire experience suddenly penetrated, and
she wondered at the intensity of the dream. Jonny was thousands of miles away. An edge of bleakness entered the dream. If only this were actually real . . .
"Gatita..." the
voice breathed in her ear.
Jessie's eyes snapped open and gazed into the dark, loving
eyes of Ruben Calderone. He smiled
gently and caressed her cheek. For an
instant everything stopped . . . time, breath, heart . . . life itself. And then she exploded upright.
"NNNNOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!"
And with that scream, she woke. The noisy jungle night still surrounded her. She was alone. She began to cry helplessly.
***
"I tell you, Estella, something is not right!" She looked up from the sketches and drawings
covering the table in their tent and frowned, watching him pace in agitation.
"Everything seems fine to me, Race. Maybe you're just imagining it."
Race shook his head sharply. "No. Something is going
on. I can feel it. And I don't like it!"
Estella leaned back in her chair and stretched, carefully
easing several cramping muscles in her lower back. "Well," she said reasonably, "what is it that's bothering you
about the situation?"
Race stopped pacing, his back to her, staring blankly at the
wall of their tent. "I don't know. I can't put my finger on it. It's little things. Jessie's been jumpy as a cat these last
several weeks. And she's too quiet!"
"Maybe it's just a phase she's going through. For all you know, it could be that time of
month for her, and it's effecting her mood."
He swung on her. "How can you say that!? You know
she's never been prone to that sort of thing. And what about that episode the other day when she came out of her tent
so upset? She told me herself that she
and Jonny have been fighting...."
Estella's face, which had been slowly developing a frown,
cleared and she laughed. "Race, Jonny
and Jessie have fought from the day they first met. There is nothing unusual about this. The only reason it seems worse than usual is because they are so
far apart."
"Maybe. And that's
another thing. I know you like him,
Estella, but Ruben Calderone is starting to rub me the wrong way. He's too polite. And I don't like the way he looks at Jess! He spends too much time with her."
"Race, this is a small camp and we don't have a whole lot of
people here." Estella glared at him in
exasperation. "Of course they spend a
lot of time together! They are very
close to the same age, and they are friends. I never heard you talk this way when Jessie spent hours with Jonny and
Hadji." Her expression softened and her
voice was gentle as she said, "They will resolve their differences, Race. You just need to give them some time to work
things out. Please believe me, it will
be all right." She smiled at him and
held out her hand.
He hesitated for an instant and then crossed the tent to
catch her hand. He pulled her to her
feet and into his arms. "I don't
know. Maybe you're right . . . " He looked deeply into her eyes and felt the
rest of the world fading away. "Yeah,
you're probably right . . ."
She laughed deep in her throat as he picked her up and
carried her toward their bed. At least
this time it was dark . . .
***
Rajeev Subramanian looked at his watch again. 10:40. Maybe he misunderstood the guard, and the meeting wasn't today. Maybe he should leave . . .
***
The courtyard garden was bathed in sunlight. Birds sang sweetly, and a soft wind brought
the scent of jasmine to the young couple that strode slowly along the paths in
this idyllic setting. Hadji gazed at
the young woman who walked beside him. She was dressed in a soft dark blue sari. Her black hair shown in the sun and a soft smile curved the
corner of her mouth. Her head was
tilted back as her eyes followed the flight of a bird that soared high above
them. This young woman quite different from the vulnerable, frightened, upset
person he led from this garden, not so many hours before. The contrast was marked, and Bangalore's
young Sultan was fascinated.
Instinctively, Hadji glanced upward at the bird. Haresh. With a sharp whistle, he called the bird. Both young people could see the lazy circles slow, and with a
flutter, the bird folded its wings and tumbled earthward. Hadji heard Kefira gasp in fear as the bird
fell further and further. At the last
instant, the gleaming wings unfolded and checked the deadly momentum. A moment later, the bird fluttered to the
young Sultan's shoulder. With a gentle
caress of the razor sharp beak, the falcon greeted Hadji affectionately. He turned his head and looked at the falcon
solemnly. Then he gestured to the young
woman beside him. "Haresh, this is
Kefira. She comes from the high
mountains near your original home." The
bird turned a bright eye on the young woman.
For an instant, Kefira gazed in astonishment. Then she bowed her head slightly and greeted
the falcon gravely. "Greetings,
Haresh. Your name is widely known in
our country and I am pleased to make your acquaintance." She reached out a tentative hand, palm up,
toward the bird. He gazed at her for an
instant and then leaned forward and caressed her hand briefly, before calling
sharply and launching himself skyward again. Kefira's gaze followed the bird in wonder as he soared into the
clouds. When she looked again at Hadji,
he could see a great delight reflected in her eyes. "He is beautiful. A truly
wonderful pet."
Hadji shook his head. "Haresh is not a pet. He is free
to come and go as he pleases. I
consider it a great honor that he chooses to stay here with me." He gestured to a bench near a quietly
murmuring pool, and the two of them moved to sit down. He added softly, "I hold no living thing
against its will."
She looked at him sharply for an instant, and then her eyes
fell. Staring at her lap she said, "I
thank you for your consideration last night, Excellency. My behavior was shameful." He could see her take a deep breath and
square her shoulders. She looked up at
him and met his gaze levelly. "I should
not have burdened you with my family's troubles. I will find a way to resolve them. You need not concern yourself."
He looked at her quietly, secretly delighted with her
courage and strength. She would indeed
make a good Sultana. "But I am already
concerned, Kefira. I told you last
night that I do not tolerate anyone being forced into something they do not
wish to do. What do you intend to do
about this situation?"
Hadji saw her sigh. "I do not know. I do not wish to
marry Subir, but I have no choice. If
there was nothing else at stake I would simply refuse to do so. It would not be the first time I have defied
my father. But it is more than just my
father. It is the fortunes of my entire
family. And I do not believe I can put
my personal wishes above the welfare of the entire family. That would not be right."
He looked away, his stomach churning. He simply couldn't allow her to be a martyr
to her family. "The sun shines only on
those things not in shadow, Kefira. To
give yourself up to a life in which you will be forever unhappy, simply to
ensure your family's financial fortune, is unwise." He looked back to find her staring at him. "And I believe you do your family a
disservice as well. You know that
extensive files have been compiled on the families of all those who were
presented to me as potential wives." He
saw her nod. "I have studied the file on your family closely. And I know that there is no one suitable to
take over the family mining business when your father retires. Except you. To accept a marriage to this man and become a housewife, simply to
secure an asset that will probably end up undeveloped or misused because there
is no one to carry on, is not wisdom . . . it is simply a waste."
Kefira dropped her head, allowing her hair to obscure her
face. But not before Hadji saw the
fleeting look of disillusionment and bitterness that flickered across it. "No," she replied, "it is the best wisdom I
can find. I spent many hours last night
thinking about it. My father will never
allow me to continue on to school. He
does not see the profit in it. And at
least if I marry Subir, I will still have the opportunity to be close to the
business, since he works in the mines. And it will allow me the avenue to continue to work there as I have done
in the past . . . quietly, and behind-the-scenes." Her head came up and she looked at him with a hint of pride. "And if I cannot inherit the management of
the family business, perhaps I can produce a son who will."
"So you would give up your dreams so easily?" he asked her.
"What other choices do I have? Even if I could find some other way to go to school, I would have
no job when I returned. My father is
right about one thing . . . no one would hire a woman to manage a granite
mine."
"No one would hire an unproven
woman to manage a granite mine. But
there is nothing to say that your first job must be here."
She looked at him in confusion. "Well, where else would it be?"
"Where do you want to go to school?" Hadji's apparent change of subject seemed to
disconcert her.
"Where? In the
United States. I . . . I had hoped to
attend the College of Mines and Minerals at the University of Missouri at
Rolla. Or perhaps the Colorado School
of Mines in Boulder. There are a lot of
others, but I thought I had a good chance of being admitted to one of those
two."
"What is wrong with the College of Engineering at Columbia
University in New York?"
"But I could never get in there! And furthermore, it would require a sponsor."
"My father would sponsor you."
She looked at him, confused. "I thought your father was dead."
He smiled slightly and shook his head. "My biological father, yes. But the man who raised me is very much
alive. He would sponsor you. With his support you could attend any school
you choose. And as I told you last
night, money is not an object. If your
father will not pay to send you, then Bangalore will."
Kefira looked at him in hope and wonder. But then a shadow crossed her face, and she
bowed her head. "No. It is still not possible. There is still the matter of my father's
pledge to the Rafiq family. To back out
now would cause him to lose face, and would destroy my family. And I cannot do that."
Hadji reached out and caught her chin, raising her head to
look at him. "Your father and the issue
of the Rafiq family you will leave to me."
She stared at him for a long moment. "Why are you doing this, Excellency? You have much better things to do with your
time than worry about a second daughter from a small mountain province. Unless you do intend to tie your family and
mine together. Is that it? Do you intend to take Daria as your wife?"
"Not 'Excellency' to you, Kefira. I told you last night . . . only Hadji. And, no, I do not intend to marry your sister. I am afraid she would not make a very
suitable wife for me. But, if the fates
are kind, I will tie our two families
together. That is my most sincere
wish. And, in time, I hope it will be
yours as well." He rose swiftly, before
she had the chance to think about what he had just said. "I must go. Your father awaits me. I simply
wanted to be certain that you still desired to go to school. That is what you wish, is it not?"
She looked at him, feeling completely overwhelmed and more
than a little dazed. "Yes . . ."
"Then I will arrange it." He bowed to her slightly. "Do
you wish an escort back to my mother's chambers? I would ask that you wait there for my return. I will come back to you once I have spoken
with your father."
With an effort, Kefira pulled herself together. "No, Excellency." He looked at her sternly. Hastily, she amended, "No, Hadji. I can find my own way back. I shall do as you wish and await you
there." Her gaze sharpened suddenly
and, abruptly, she grinned at him. " .
. . or in the library. After all, I
still have to study for the entrance exams."
Hadji laughed softly and bowed deeply to her. "Then I will meet you in the library when I
am finished with your father." He spun
on his heel and strode purposefully from the garden. Kefira watched him leave with a curious lightening of her
heart. It suddenly occurred to her that
maybe her life had just changed very drastically -- but, somehow, that didn't
seem like a bad thing. She wondered
again about the old man's question. What makes a good wife for a Sultan? And she thought that maybe she really had better give that question some
very serious consideration.
***
Rajeev Subramanian had decided to leave. He strode determinedly to the door and
reached for the handle to pull it open. It was now 10:55 and the Sultan still had not arrived. The guard must have gotten the message wrong. He would return to the guest quarters and
search for his daughter. And the next
time he saw the Sultan, he would speak to him sharply about his palace guards. This was unforgivable. He was a busy man.
"Do you have something better to do with your time, Rajeev
Subramanian? Or do you just routinely
walk out on a royal command?" The voice
was cold and harsh. The older man
froze, his hand still on the door handle. He felt his forehead break out in a cold sweat. He turned slowly to see the young Sultan
standing a few feet in front of the throne dais, his arms folded across his
chest, and an angry frown on his face. Rajeev hadn't even heard him enter the room.
"No, Excellency!" he
assured him hastily. "Your emissary had
said 10:00 a.m. and it was so late, that I thought he must have gotten it
wrong. I was . . . . just going . . . to see . . . if . . ." He
trailed off, knowing by the look on the Sultan's face that no excuse would be
good enough. The young man was
angry. That much was clear. Rajeev racked his brain desperately once
again. He simply couldn't figure out
what he had done to anger him.
Abruptly, Hadji turned and strode toward the dais. As he mounted the stairs, he smiled slightly
to himself. Well, he had wanted him
rattled. It was obvious he had
accomplished that. Now, how to maneuver
the man to get what he wanted without totally alienating him. It simply would not do to have a
father-in-law who utterly detested him. Palace politics were bad enough without having to worry about that as
well. Hadji turned and sat down,
staring hard at the older man.
Rajeev approached the dais tentatively. "How may I serve, Excellency? I and my house are yours to command."
Hadji leaned back, his elbows on the arms of the chair, and steepled
his fingers. "I am pleased to hear
that, because I have come across a situation which disturbs me greatly. And it appears that you have caused it." Hadji could see the man begin to sweat even
harder. "I believe you are aware that
my council of advisors, my mother, and I have been at odds recently." The older man nodded hesitantly. "Are you aware of the nature of that
disagreement?"
"It is said you do not wish to marry, and they are
attempting to force you to do so."
"Succinctly put," Hadji said approvingly. "However, not entirely true. I do not object to marrying. I simply object to being told where, when,
how, and to whom."
"Understandable, Excellency. A man should have some say over his life. All of our traditions provide for that. And it is also my understanding that an
agreement has been reached on this matter."
"Indeed it has. The
matter of my marriage will be at my discretion . . . and mine alone." Hadji smiled coldly. "My mother and my advisors now clearly
understand the alternatives, and they have decided they prefer to allow me to
make my own choices."
Rajeev swallowed hard. He still did not understand why he was here. Surely Daria had not offered offense in any way. She had only met the Sultan the one time . .
. "I am pleased to know that a
resolution has been reached, Excellency. It is always better that a decision of this magnitude be acceptable to
all parties concerned . . ."
Hadji leaned forward abruptly, his frown deepening and his
voice sharp. "Then explain to me,
Rajeev Subramanian, why you would so misuse your daughter in the same fashion."
"But . . . but . . . but, Excellency!" the man sputtered,
"Daria has no objection to being considered a candidate for a potential
marriage to you. The prospect makes her
extremely happy. She would like nothing
better than to be your wife and provide you with an heir."
"I do not speak of your eldest daughter. I have no interest in her. I speak of your middle daughter."
Rajeev stood, completely stunned, staring at the young
Sultan. "Kefira???" he finally gasped.
"Precisely. Kefira."
"But Kefira will marry a fine man. And it will consummate a strong business deal with his family
that will ensure security for her and our entire family. It is a good match, Excellency! I have worked long and hard to make these
arrangements. And she understands this
. . . or she will once she thinks about it," he amended hastily.
The anger on the Sultan's face was clear, and Rajeev
flinched as Hadji stood abruptly and descended the dais to stand squarely in
front of him. "So. It is unacceptable to force someone into a
marriage against their will. But it is
acceptable to sell your daughter to the highest bidder, is that it?"
"NO, Excellency,
that is not the way it was at all!"
"So tell me. Did you
speak to your daughter about these arrangements before you agreed to them with
the man's family?"
"Yes . . ."
"And did she agree to them?"
"No . . ."
"Did you have more than one discussion on the matter?"
"Yes . . ."
"And did she, at any time, lead you to believe that she
would be willing accept marriage to this man?"
"No . . ."
"And yet you formally announced the betrothal last night in
front of both houses, setting dates and times for the marriage."
"Yes . . ."
Hadji returned to the dais and sat down again. "So now you will explain to me, Rajeev
Subramanian, how this is any different from the bartering that goes on in the
marketplace every day." The older man
opened his mouth to speak, but Hadji raised a hand, stopping him before he
could begin. "And I would remind you
that there are very strong laws in this country against selling people into
slavery. If I do not like what I hear,
I will not hesitate to invoke them." Hadji stared at Rajeev and watched him search for words. Suddenly, he could see the man sway on his
feet. He looked beyond his anger, and
actually saw the man for the first time. He was exhausted. It suddenly
occurred to Hadji that he still did not know where his daughter was or what had
happened to her after she had left their quarters. As he surveyed the older man, he suddenly realized that this man
cared about his daughter a great deal. And he was under a great deal of stress over her whereabouts.
Hadji leaned forward swiftly and rang for a servant. Then he descended the stairs again and
caught the older man by the arm, leading him to the side of the room, where a
sheltered alcove with a table and soft chairs were located. As the servant entered, Hadji instructed
that food and drink be brought to him as quickly as possible. He seated the older man and commanded him to
wait until refreshment could be brought.
Rajeev sat, his elbows propped on the table and his head in
his hands, saying nothing. He was numb
and his mind would no longer work. After a brief time, the sounds of dishes penetrated his exhaustion and
he raised his head to see an assortment of food and a carafe of hot, dark
coffee in front of him. He looked up at
the young Sultan sitting across the table from him, who said simply, "Eat."
For a time, the two of them sat silently, and Rajeev
mechanically consumed what was put in front of him. He didn't taste it . . . he simply ate. Finally, awareness began to return, and he looked up again. But before he could say anything, Hadji
spoke.
"She is safe and well. I found her in the gardens and took her to my mother who cared for her
last night. She has rested and is
better. You need not fear for her
well-being." Hadji could see the man's
sigh of relief.
"I did not mean to distress her so greatly, Excellency. It is just that she is so intractable. She wants to go on to school and then work
as a miner! A granite mine is no place
for a young woman. She will be hurt . .
. if not killed. And while Subir Rafiq
is not a great man, I am convinced he will treat her well." The man stared at Hadji earnestly, pleading
with him. "It is true, Excellency, that
the match brings great benefit to our family. But you must believe that I would never have considered it if I thought
the man would abuse her or harm her in any way. I love my daughter and want only what is best for her."
Hadji looked at him for a long time. Finally, he said, "Perhaps that is
true. But to force her into an unwanted
marriage is certainly not what is best for her. And you will find, Rajeev Subramanian, that I do not agree with
your attitudes about your daughter's desires for school and a career. The fact that she is a woman does not mean
she does not have the aptitude for mining engineering, nor does it mean that
she could not do a good job at it. There are many women miners back where I live in the United States.
"And I have not heard your daughter say she wishes to be a miner. She says she wishes to be a mining engineer. The two jobs are substantially
different. I have made it a point to
look at her school records. She is an
outstanding student with a remarkable grasp of mathematics, geology, computers,
and spatial engineering. I have also
looked at the records of your mining operations, and it is my belief that your
techniques and methods are in desperate need of upgrade. It is your daughter who holds the potential
to bring your entire operation into the next century and truly make your
family's fortune. But you are denying
her that opportunity because of her gender."
Rajeev started at the young Sultan in astonishment. "But . . . but . . . it goes against all
tradition."
Hadji smiled at him in amusement. "As did my decision to put my mother in the position of acting
Sultan while I was in the United States. And I do not believe that has proved to be a poor choice. Traditions are meant to serve as a template
to help guide us and to provide stability in an unstable world. They are not
meant to be inviolate and carved in stone. There are many of our traditions that need to be upgraded as desperately
as your mining operation. And I will do
so. But the first to go must be the
insistence that the ability of an individual to do any job is based on their
gender." The smile faded from his face
and he stared solemnly at Kefira's father again. "I want to see your middle daughter get her wish and go on to
school to be a mining engineer. Bangalore needs people of her caliber and skills. And if you do not choose to send her, I will
see that the country does so."
Rajeev sighed deeply. "If that is your wish, Excellency, I have no choice but to obey. But I must be honest. I do not know if there will be anything left
for her to manage when she returns. I
needed that contract for the new stone. The Rafiq family will not take kindly to our agreement being
dissolved. They greatly desire an heir
and it was the single point in our discussions that was not negotiable. To rescind our agreement over Kefira's
marriage to Subir will rescind the entire arrangement."
"You have other daughters," Hadji pointed out gently. "I am given to understand that one of them
greatly desires exactly the type of arrangement you wish to negotiate with the
Rafiq family."
Rajeev sighed again. "Yes, Excellency. Daria has
little desire to be anything but a wife and mother." The older man looked Hadji straight in the eye and said boldly,
"But I had hoped she would provide that service to you."
Hadji smiled and shook his head. "I do not desire your eldest daughter, Rajeev Subramanian, and I
will not have her for my wife." Hadji
saw the older man's shoulders sag slightly as he bowed his head in
submission. And then he continued, "I
desire your second daughter." The man's
head snapped up so sharply, Hadji wondered that he didn't sprain his neck. He raised his hand to forestall any comments
from the older man and continued, "Not
for a long while yet. Both of us must
finish school. And we need time to get
to know each other better. My father in
America will sponsor her to the school of her choice. It will give us the opportunity to become better acquainted, and
in a few years, if she desires it, I
will gladly make her my wife. Her
skills will be of great benefit to our country, and her spirit and wit will
make her a strong Sultana." Hadji grinned
broadly at the man. "Do you believe
this could be arranged to your satisfaction?"
For a long moment, the stunned expression on Rajeev's face
didn't change. But then it dissolved
into a matching grin and he began to laugh. "Yes, Excellency, I definitely believe this can be arranged. I do not think that Subir will object to
taking my eldest daughter as his wife. And Daria's mother has already told me that she has expressed
reservations about being the Sultana. I
believe a more "lowly" marriage would probably be more to her liking,
anyway." His smiled faded slightly, "As
far as Kefira's opinion on the arrangement . . ."
Hadji laughed. "I do
not believe you will find any objections there, either." Hadji rose and held out his hand to the
man. "So we are agreed?"
Rajeev rose also and took the younger man's hand in a strong
handclasp. "Agreed. But we have yet to talk dowry or betrothal
or . . ."
"Move slowly, Rajeev Subramanian. There is no hurry on those arrangements. Be content to know that, if she is
agreeable, I will have your middle daughter as my wife. The details can be arranged when we are more
ready to make the betrothal official."
The older man stepped back and bowed deeply. "It shall be as you wish, Excellency."
Hadji smiled. "I am
pleased to hear it."