Path of the Tiger, стр. 426

‘Sorry sir!’ William called out in English, before he hushed his voice and switched back to Bengali to resume conversing with the porters.

‘Well as funny as that was, that’s exactly what happened to me.’

‘You fell in love with a king’s daughter?’

‘Not quite a king, but similar, yes. And I, in my country, I was born into a class like yours.’

‘Simple people who work the land. Farmers,’ the boy said, nodding his head knowingly.

‘Yes. That class.’

The wiry lad toked deeply on the chillum, exhaled, and then stared intently at William before firing off a question at him.

‘But why even bother with this love? It seems like it would be a hopeless dream from the outset.’

The low glow from the pipe briefly illuminated a slickness of tears welling at the edges of William’s eyes. Despite his sadness, he smiled at them before answering.

‘I couldn’t help it. I had no choice in the matter, you see. Have either of you ever been in love?’

Both boys shook their heads. William sighed slowly before continuing.

‘It’s both the most beautiful and the most terrible thing you can ever experience in this lifetime, lads. A wise old friend, a man who was like a father to me, told me that … and I know that it’s true, trust me on that. I’m sure it’s probably the same in your culture, but certainly in mine, most of the greatest poetry, art, music and literature is based on the theme of love. It drives people to madness, to despair, to suicide even. Once it has you in its grips, it doesn’t let go. And then you’re powerless to resist, powerless to think of anything else.’

‘I can’t read,’ the wiry porter muttered, ‘so I don’t know about poems and literature, but in the village we’re from they sing many songs about love, and the old folk tell us many stories about great loves of legend.’

‘It doesn’t matter where you’re born,’ William said, ‘or what culture you grow up in, I’m quite sure love is just as powerful a force anywhere you go.’

‘So, you became a soldier because of love?’

‘Yes,’ William said, the corners of his mouth crinkling into a sad smile, and a tear escaping his eye to inch a passage down his cheek. ‘I had this foolish idea that I could rise above my station in life, that I could become an officer.’

‘Officer? What’s that?’

‘A commander, someone who gives orders in the army.’

‘Oh yes, I know what you mean. Is that easy to do in your country?’

William laughed, half-sadly and half-bitterly.

‘I had hoped it would be. Actually though, it almost happened for me.’

‘But…’

‘Oh yes,’ he said grimly. ‘There was definitely a “but”. A huge “but” indeed.’

‘What was it?’

William slumped his shoulders and expelled all the air from his lungs, and then tilted his face up to stare at the night sky.

‘There are too many “buts” to talk about, lads,’ he murmured. ‘I’ll tell you this much though: two of my very best friends, two men who were like brothers to me, who I had grown up with, who had been there for me at every turn … they are dead now, dead and rotting under the ground, because of me. And my other best friend, my other brother, he hates me and will never speak to me again because of what I did.’

The porters both masticated for a while on this information in silence.

‘That is why you chase the dragon,’ the gangly one eventually said.

William nodded.

‘It’s one of many things I need to forget. Many things I can’t forget.’

‘I’m sorry,’ the wiry one murmured. ‘Maybe one day you’ll find what you’re looking for.’

‘Maybe. Maybe not. I don’t know … I just don’t want to live with this constant pain anymore. My love, she’s the only thing that keeps me alive. She’s the one last hope I still cling to, the dream that one day, one day we just might have the chance to be together again. But with every day that passes, that hope grows smaller and smaller. Truth be told, it is almost gone. Death … I long ago stopped fearing it. Now, I think that if it should come to me … should death come to me … I might welcome it with open arms.’

The wiry one frowned as he took the chillum from his friend.

‘You shouldn’t say that. You’re young; you don’t look that much older than us. A young man shouldn’t be seeking out death in the prime of his life. It’s not right.’

‘I feel like I’ve lived through more than enough pain now. That is, if the word “live” can describe the hell I’ve existed in for these past few years.’

‘Don’t give up hope,’ the wiry one said as he took one final hit of the chillum pipe. ‘Don’t give up just yet, Englishman. You never know what’s around the corner. You never know…’

***

Three Days Later  

‘How much longer are we going to keep going?’ the wiry porter whispered to his long-limbed friend as they brought up the rear of the group.

‘I’m not sure, but I’m getting scared,’ the other one murmured. ‘We’ve seen no signs of any other people for seven days, and—’

‘There’s your sign of people, lads,’ interjected William, who was trotting just ahead of them on River King. ‘You’ll see when you crest the rise.’

The two youths hurried over the top of the rise, and both gasped in awe as they saw what lay before them in the valley below: the crumbling stone ruins of what had once been a great city. A semi-collapsed temple stood at its centre, its heavily leaning conical spire jutting out of the forest at a bizarre angle. Up at the head of the train, Ajit turned and grinned smugly at the others.

‘I told you it was here, Bingham. Now are you satisfied?’

‘I’ll be satisfied when we’ve bagged the lion and his friends,’ Bingham replied sourly from atop his horse. Then, however, his tone became more cautionary. ‘We’re