Chapter Sixteen


As Anila fled down the stairs, she fought desperately to control her fear. If she panicked now, the children would be lost. Her husband had given her instructions and she would carry those out without fail. She swept through the back of the house, snapping orders that sent the servants scurrying. Her husband was right about one thing . . . if it truly was the Janissaries on their doorstep, and they did not accomplish what they had set out to do, they would surely take their anger out on whomever they could lay their hands on. She wanted everyone safely out of sight and harm's way.

She erupted into the kitchen to find Maia and Srinivasan waiting for her. Her son was dressed in a rough and tumble fashion and it was obvious that he had been playing in the dirt in the courtyard again. His clothing would hold up to a long journey. Her youngest daughter was a different story. She was dressed neatly in a soft blue sari, her hair long and loose and a pair of soft leather scuff shoes on her feet. Anila was dressed similarly, and gazing at her daughter, she knew that they would never survive a trip through the mountains dressed in this fashion. Snapping at them to follow her, she moved hastily into a nearby room. Grabbing a burlap sack that they used to gather laundry, she began throwing things into it.

Unlike most households, she did not make it a point to segregate the clothing of the servants from that of the family. They were allowed to lauder it all at the same time, and Anila gave thanks now for that habit. Ignoring the finer garments that her family normally wore, she searched for the drabber, sturdy, everyday wear of their servants. With little time to spare, she could not be picky, ensuring only that she got one set of good clothes and two sets suitable for traveling for each of them. Taking the bag, she thrust it into the arms of her daughter with a command for her to bring it and then set off for another room where she added three blankets to the things her daughter carried.

"Mother, what are you doing?" Maia asked, sounding bewildered.

"Not now, daughter. Just move quickly and do as you are told." She snatched up another bag and began throwing rudimentary foodstuffs into it . . . some bread, dried fruit, some dried meats that the men often took with them to the mines . . . anything that would keep them going in their run from the rising tide of war. Thrusting this at Srinivasan, she turned and grabbed two bottles, which she quickly filled with water.

"But Mother . . . " Maia tried again.

This time it was her five-year-old son that responded. "Bad men are coming," he said with a conviction that caused Anila to whirl and stare at him.

"What do you know of the bad men, my son?"

"That they hurt people," he replied. "And that they do things that no one wants to talk about." He faltered, suddenly looking small and frightened. "They hurt Nasim's sister . . . he would not tell me what they did, but he was very angry . . ."

Anila closed her eyes in pain. Nasim . . . the 13-year-old stable boy who cared for the family's horses. He had a sister two years older than he, who lived with their parents down near the border . . . in the area where the bandits had been seen so frequently . . . That could happen to Maia, she thought and the idea sickened her.

"Listen to me, both of you. Srinivasan is correct. There are bad men coming. Your father has directed us to leave. We must make haste. I have one other thing I must get, and then we will leave by the back door through the garden. Once we leave this house you must move quickly and in absolute silence. Do you understand?"

"But what of Father?" Maia protested.

"I want to stay with Father," Srinivasan insisted.

"No! That is not our decision to make. He has directed that we leave and we must follow his orders". She scanned her daughter's attire once more. "Do you have sturdy shoes near at hand, daughter? Those will not do."

Staring at her mother, Anila could see the understanding of the gravity of the situation finally register. Dropping the bundle she held, she said, "I have a set of riding clothes by the back door. I will change while you gather the other items."

Without another word, Anila turned and ran back toward the front of the house. As she passed through the hallway behind the wall that formed the main entry to the house, she heard the door open and close once again. Rajeev had gone to meet their approaching visitors. She was running out of time. She reached a door at the far side of the house. Fumbling with the ring of keys that hung from a belt she always wore around the house, she inserted a key into the lock and flung the door open. Here they stored items that we unsafe to have around the small children that often filled the house. Small mining equipment in various states of repair, blasting apparatus that were in transit from one place to another, and a host of other things filled the room. Crossing swiftly, she pulled out another key and unlocked a large cabinet that stood along one wall. Throwing the doors open, she surveyed the assortment of weapons that filled the cabinet. With only a second's thought, she grabbed a high-powered automatic rifle and two smaller handguns, including the HK USP nine-millimeter pistol that was Kefira's weapon of choice. Grabbing two boxes of shells for the rifle and additional ammunition clips for both handguns, she closed the cabinet, locked it securely once more, and then returned to her children.

She found them standing just inside the door that led to the outer courtyard. Maia was now dressed in sturdy riding pants, a long sleeved shirt, a waist-length vest, and knee-high riding boots. Her hair had been pulled back sharply from her face and now hung down her back in a tight braid. As Anila strode up, she held out a similar set of clothing to her mother, but Anila shook her head.

"There is no time. Bring it along and I will change when we are away from here." She handed the smaller of the two handguns and a shoulder holster to her daughter. "Take great care with this, Maia," she warned, "and use it only under the most desperate of circumstances." The girl nodded and slipped into the holster quickly, seating the gun securely once it was properly fastened. Once again Anila gave thanks to the higher powers for her husband's foresight in teaching all of their children to handle weapons properly. "Now, quickly, we must go."

She led them out the door and across the inner courtyard to the gate that led to the garden court. Moving through it quickly, she skirted the garden and approached the gate that opened out into the wild land beyond. She was just reaching for the lock when voices from outside the wall reached her.

"It is here," a man's voice said urgently in Hindi.

"I do not like it," another replied in the same language. "We should enter from several different locations in case it is a trap."

"The house is too well defended," the first man replied. "The commander said a team must enter from the back and this is the only way in we have found. We have no choice but to go through the wall here."

"They should have warned us we would need to scale walls," a third man grumbled. "At least we would have come equipped."

"Enough!" a new voice snapped in a soft, commanding voice. "Check to see if the gate is locked. If it is, then we must break it down."

Anila grabbed at the two children and dragged them away from the gate frantically. This was a full scale assault on the house, down to the flanking maneuvers. There was no way they would be able to get out now . . . unless . . .

Dragging the children down into a crouch with her next to a tall stand of vining squash, she hissed at them, "Listen to me! The men at the gate are our enemies. You must do exactly as I tell you, do you understand me?" Both children nodded, their eyes wide. "You are to crawl into the vines here and remain very still. Not a sound. Those men will be coming through the gate very soon, but they will not linger here. When they have gone, you are to slip out of here and go out of the gate and up into the countryside. Maia, you know where the high pasture is?" The girl nodded. "You are to take your brother and make your way up there as quickly as you can. Do not look back and do not stop, do you understand? When you get there, you will wait until nightfall. Hide. Do not allow yourself to be seen." She took a deep breath and stared straight into her daughter's eyes. "If your father or I have not come to get you by nightfall, you are to take horses and you are to ride as swiftly as the wind for the pass that leads over the southeast mountains and down toward Delhi. Stay out of sight as much as you can, and trust no one. When you get to Delhi, you are to go to the train station and purchase two tickets for Mumbai on the first train out of there. Do not voice your names or talk to anyone. It is extremely important. When you reach Mumbai, you are to go directly to the home of Zail Lakshmanan." She thrust a piece of paper and a fistful of money into the girl's hands. "The address is here. You are to say to him that enemies have beset your father, and ask for his assistance. Then you are to contact your sister in America and say these words to her, "War is come, the Sultan is not to return under any circumstances, and Rajeev begs shelter for his children from Dr. Benton Quest." Do you understand this? Maia, tell me. What are you to say to your sister?"

"I am to say to her that war is come . . . that the Sultan is not to return here, and that Father asks for shelter for Srinivasan and I from Dr. Quest."

"The Sultan is not to return under any circumstances. That is important, Maia."

"Yes, Mother. I will remember," she whispered. Loud blows on the gate warned Anila that time was growing short. She unslung the rifle from her shoulder and handed both it and the other handgun to her daughter. Laying her hand against her cheek, she looked at Maia for a brief instant. The girl could see tears shimmering in her eyes as she whispered softly, "Go with God, child. May he keep both of you safe." She hugged her son swiftly and then shoved them both toward the tangle of growing plants. Rising, she straightened her sari and then walked to the gate. The children watched in horror as she composed herself, then stepped up, unlocked the gate, and opened it to the invaders. Feigning surprise, she said,

"May I help you?"

Six men surged through the open gate. One grabbed her arm and dragged her off to one side as the others brought rifles to bear and scanned the garden courtyard alertly. The apparent tranquility seemed to disconcert them.

"Where is everyone else?"

"Everyone else?" she asked, sounding bewildered. "There is none here but myself, the household servants, the children, and my husband."

"Where are they?" the man demanded once again.

"The servants are within the house at various tasks. At this time of day, all of the children will be in the study room with their tutor . . . "

"Your children?"

She looked from one of them to another, appearing somewhat dimwitted. "Yes, and the others. My husband insists that all of the children learn to read and write. . . "

"And where is your husband?"

"The last I knew he was in his study . . ."

Grabbing her by the arm, he shoved her toward the house. "Show me," he demanded harshly. Turning to the others, he ordered, "Check the house. Gather up those you find and lock them up in a room in the middle of the house . . . one with no windows. No one is to be prowling the house." The men fanned out, heading for the house as the man who had been speaking . . . obviously the leader of this group of men . . . dragged Anila into the house. "Take me to your husband . . ."

Then they were gone, leaving nothing behind but silence.

Maia and Srinivasan remained hidden for several moments after the men left, waiting to see if they would reappear again. Finally, Maia crept out of her hiding place and looked around carefully. When she found no sign of the invaders, she reached out and, dragging her younger brother out of the screen of plants, the two of them ran for the gate. Stopping just inside, Maia stuck her head out carefully and looked around. Seeing no one else, the two crouched low and sprinted across the open ground and into the rocky cover of the surrounding land. They had no more than reached a safe hiding place when two of the men who had entered the house returned to the garden. As the two of them crouched behind a large boulder watching the back of the house, one of the men closed the gate and they heard the lock slide home with a finality that made both of the shudder. After a moment, Maia reached out and caught her brother's hand. Shouldering the rifle, she picked up the two bags her mother had filled and the two of them crept away into the countryside.


~ ~ ~ ~ ~


Rajeev was waiting by the front gate when the two small trucks and the elegant black car with the darkened windows pulled up in front of the house. Rajeev's expression turned grim as he gazed at the car. He recognized that vehicle without so much as a second look. So Arun Birla had come himself . . . with a contingent of his pet enforcers. Something had happened, of that he was now certain. He just hoped that Anila and the other children had managed to get away.

The armed men confronted him, their weapons level at him threateningly. He raised his hands peacefully, and said quietly, "There is no need for weapons, gentlemen. You will meet no resistance here. How my I help you?" A rustle of movement behind them marked the approach of someone else. The men parted in the middle and suddenly Rajeev found himself face-to-face with Arun Birla. The two men gazed at each other, a silent war of wills occurring as they each waited for the other to speak first. Finally, Birla cleared his throat and said,

"Mr. Subramanian, I will talk with you."

Rajeev spread his hands and gestured magnanimously. "I hear you, Mr. Birla. What is it that you wish to say?"

The tone of his voice caused Birla to frown. "You would do well to watch your tone. More respect would go a long way in keeping you and your family in my favor."

"Respect is earned, not demanded," Rajeev replied evenly. "You come to my home without an invitation, with a contingent of armed men . . . men belonging to an order that has been banned in this country, I might add . . . and then you demand respect from me? I find it difficult to accommodate you, Mr. Birla. But you are here . . . so what is it that you want?"

Birla's eyes darkened in anger, but controlling himself, he grinned nastily. "Why, I am here to do you a favor, Mr. Subramanian. I am here to take your family to safety at the palace. It has become necessary for your middle daughter to return to this country to begin living the life appropriate for her station. The Regent and I understand that this will be difficult for her, so it has been decided that you will all join her there to keep her company."

"My daughter will object to having her studies disrupted," Rajeev replied unemotionally, but inside he could feel himself tense. Kefira . . . he thought with despair.

"Her studies are no longer of importance. She will be Sultana. Her behavior in the past has been unacceptable, so now we must insist that she learn that role."

"Why are you so certain that my daughter will be Sultana?" Rajeev demanded. "There has been no marriage contract . . . or even talk of a dowry price. How do you know what I do not?"

"Because it has been officially announced by the palace earlier today. Word has spread like wildfire. The story has been picked up by all of the news services, and the congratulatory messages are already beginning to pour in. I am surprised that your telephone has not been driving you mad. Oh, but I forget . . . your phone cannot ring . . . it is not operational."

"And how do you know that?" Rajeev asked with outward calmness, but he could feel the dryness of his mouth and he began to sweat.

Birla waved negligently. "Why, because I had my men disable it some hours ago. I wanted to be the one to bring you the good news, so I could hardly allow anyone to call and tell you first, now could I?"

A commotion behind him caused Rajeev turn suddenly. Two men exited the house dragging his unresisting wife with them. Breaking free from the man who clutched her arm, she crossed to Rajeev at a run. He caught Anila against him, and held her comfortingly, the despair growing. She did not get away, so now he was faced with trying to protect them as well as trying to find a way out of this. He knew the young Sultan well enough to know that if Kefira were brought back to Bangalore, Hadji Singh would follow . . . no matter the risk to himself. It was also likely that he would come if he were to find Rajeev and his family in danger. So, one way or the other, he needed to find a way out of this situation. And right now, the only way out appeared to be capitulation.

"Very well," he said quietly. "We will do as you ask."

Birla smiled in satisfaction. "Excellent. I knew you could be made to see reason."

"What of those in the house, Excellency?" the man who had brought Anila, questioned.

Birla shrugged negligently. "They are of no concern to me. Do with them what you will."

A grin of unholy glee split the man's face and he turned back toward the house in anticipation. This was more than Anila could stand. Breaking free from her husband, she lunged toward the man frantically, "No! You cannot! They are just children . . ." It was never clear what her intention actually was, but she lurched into the man she was chasing, causing him to stagger. With a snarl, he turned to backhand her sharply just as Rajeev jumped forward to try to draw her back out of harm's way. As the man lashed out at Anila, the full sleeve of his uniform caught on the grip of the pistol at his belt, pulling it free. One of the others, seeing the gun falling free, cried out in alarm and the others reacted without further thought. The sound of gunfire was clear in the late afternoon air, and when silence descended again, both Rajeev and Anila lay lifeless in the dirt.

Birla rose from his defensive position behind one of the vehicles and came to stand looking down at the two. After a moment, he looked up at the leader of the Janissaries and shrugged. "Ah well, what can you do? This has probably solved some future problems for us. And I'm sure this will cause the Sultan to return without any delay." He turned away. "Come, let us go."

"What about them?" the leader inquired, nodding toward the Subramanians.

"Leave them." Birla glanced up at the sky. "They will provide food for the wildlife . . . as well as a good lesson for those who looked to them for shelter."

"And those inside?"

Birla glanced at the house and then back to the captain of his forces. "The children are still in it?" The man nodded. "Then let us finish the job. Burn it down. We will eradicate the Subramanian family once and for all." He turned to another man standing nearby. "Call ahead and notify our people in the city. I want Sumant Subramanian and his family found and eliminated. That will leave only the girl, and we can get her at our leisure." Without another look, he returned to his car and before long, the vehicle moved away, leaving behind them nothing but flames and death.


~ ~ ~ ~ ~


On the mountainside, high above the house, Maia Subramanian watched as Arun Birla and his men drove away, leaving her parents lying on the ground and her home in flames. A rage was building inside the girl. She had always been more interested in the spiritual than she had the world around her. Violence had seemed distant and more than a little distasteful. But all of that had changed now. War had come, her mother had said to her. Before, those had been nothing but empty words . . . abstract concepts that hadn't seemed real. Now, she understood them all too well. She watched the departing car with a fever born of a fierce desire for revenge. Beside her, Srinivasan whimpered. She had a job to do . . . one her mother had entrusted to her . . . and she wouldn't fail. But before this was all over, someone would pay . . . one way or the other.


~ ~ ~ ~ ~


The raging inferno was beginning to die away by the time Vijay Patel topped the rise onto the plateau where the Subramanian home had once stood. As he watched, the roof collapsed, sending sparks spiraling skyward. He stumbled from his car and took a few hesitant steps forward, staring at it in horror. It took him a minute to spot the body that lay in front of the house. He ran forward and dropped to his knees beside the prone figure. With gentle hands, he turned the body over and he could feel tears of anger and grief boil up as he looked down at Anila Subramanian. With a trembling hand, he reached down and closed her eyes gently. It took him a minute to spot the trail of blood that led back toward the house. Stumbling to his feet again, he followed it as it disappeared around the corner of the wall that formed the outer courtyard that ran around the house. He found Rajeev about 30 feet from the corner. Kneeling beside the body, he rolled the man over and was rewarded by Rajeev's eyes flickering open slowly. It took him a minute to focus on the man above him.

"Vijay?" he whispered hoarsely. Pink froth formed at the corner of his mouth and Vijay could hear a bubbling sound as Rajeev struggled to breathe.

"Quietly, my friend. We must get you out of here and to medical help."

Rajeev shook his head slowly. "No," he whispered. "There is no point. It is . . . " a wracking cough seized him, and he struggled desperately to breathe. " . . . too late," he finally managed. "Listen . . . to me . . . Vijay. There are . . . things . . . you have . . . to know."

"Who did this?" Vijay demanded fiercely.

"Arun . . . Birla," he managed. "Janissaries. Came to take . . . us . . . to the . . . palace. Use us . . . to . . . force my . . . " Again, he began to cough, and Vijay sank to the ground and raised Rajeev into his arms gently. The elevated position seemed to ease his breathing, and after a moment, he continued, " . . . Kefira . . . to come home . . . Then, he . . . plans to . . . use . . . her to force . . . the Sultan . . . back to . . . Bangalore. Will kill . . . him." Rajeev's eyes drooped and for a moment, Vijay thought he was gone. Then he roused once more. "It is coming . . . Vijay . . . "

"What is coming, my friend?" Vijay whispered, knowing that there was no hope for this man.

"War," Rajeev replied with an effort. "Will be . . . no . . . stopping it . . . now. You must . . . protect . . . protect . . . " He was fading and Vijay knew he couldn't last much longer. Finally, he continued, " . . . the Sultan. He is . . . the only . . . hope . . . for our . . . people."

"You have my word, Rajeev. I will guard him with my life." Rajeev nodded and then fell silent. Vijay eased him to the ground again gently and sat beside him without saying a word. Finally, he opened his eyes again and whispered, "Anila?"

Wordlessly, Vijay shook his head. Rajeev's eyes closed again and the younger man could see the grief that etched his face. Finally, Vijay managed, "Maia and Srinivasan?"

"In . . . the . . . house . . . Gone?"

"Yes," Vijay whispered.

"He will . . . have . . . killed . . . Sumant before . . . you can get . . . back. Save my . . . daughter . . . Vijay. She is . . . all . . . that is . . . left . . ." And with one final gasping breath, Rajeev Subramanian died.