Land of Hope and Glory by Geoffrey Wilson Read Free Book Online Page A

power, his ability not only to track a quarry using the usual signs – footprints, broken twigs, grasses parted, droplets of blood – but also to follow the trail a person or animal left in sattva, a trail that was invisible to most, but impossible to erase.
    The Rajthanan siddhas had all sorts of powers, but none of them could do what Jack could do. He was a so-called ‘native siddha’, one who had a natural, often unique, ability. He wasn’t a siddha in the proper sense – it took years of study and practice to achieve that – but he had an innate skill, bred into him through being born amongst the strong streams of sattva that criss-crossed England.
    ‘I know your injury is a problem,’ Jhala said. ‘But you’d only have to use your power briefly. I’ve known other men with the same condition who’ve done that.’
    But Jhala didn’t know the wound had spread. For all Jack knew, using his power now might kill him. One more reason to refuse.
    ‘Sir, Captain Sengar,’ Jack said. ‘I appreciate your offer, but I can’t accept. I have my life here now. I can’t help you. I’m very sorry.’
    Sengar sucked on his teeth and looked across at Jhala.
    Jhala leant back against his seat’s bolster, folded his hands in his lap and stared straight at Jack. He sighed. ‘I’m sorry too. It’s this damn mutiny. Nasty business.’
    ‘Yes, sir.’
    ‘Don’t know what’s come over those English regiments. They’ve killed women and children – did you know that?’
    ‘I heard something about it.’
    ‘Never thought I’d see it. It’s a pity for all of us to be living in these days.’
    ‘Colonel Jhala, with respect,’ Sengar said in Rajthani. ‘We’re wasting valuable time here. He has to—’
    ‘He can understand you, Sengar.’ Jhala glanced at Jack. ‘Isn’t that right?’
    ‘Yes. I understand some. Picked it up in the army.’
    Sengar breathed in sharply, nostrils flaring. He spoke to Jack with his voice clipped. ‘Very well, then. You might as well hear it straight – you have to help us. You don’t have a choice.’
    Jack felt a ripple of nerves.
    ‘Calm down, Captain Sengar.’ Jhala raised his hand and patted, as if dampening an invisible flame. He leant forward, studied the mat before him, then looked up at Jack. His skin appeared too heavy for his face to support. His eyes were large and watery. ‘Jack, there’s a bit more to it than we’ve told you so far.’
    Jack sat back a little. What would the other servants be thinking? He could imagine them gossiping furiously about why their head guard was talking to army officers for such a long time.
    ‘William Merton,’ Jhala continued. ‘I’m sure you remember him.’
    Of course Jack remembered him – he’d been Jack’s best friend in the army, probably the best friend Jack had ever had. No one who met William could forget him. He was a giant man, with a giant laugh and a big heart. Larger than life.
    ‘Quite a soldier, wasn’t he?’ Jhala said. ‘Quite a man.’
    ‘Yes.’
    ‘Do you remember the time he wrestled me?’
    Jack smiled – he remembered it well. They had all been mad about Malla wrestling at the time and William had been one of the best. Jack himself had tried wrestling his friend a few times and had been quickly beaten.
    The Indian officers were also obsessed with Malla, but they almost never wrestled with their men – it wasn’t the done thing. Jhala, however, broke all the rules and happily took part in his men’s contests. And he always won as he was something of a Malla guru.
    At any rate, Willam had been going around bragging that he would be European Champion if the competition were opened up to natives. Jhala, hearing about this, put down a challenge and there was a mighty fight between them a few days later. Jack could still remember the bellowing of the men as they sat watching in the training tent.
    The thing was, after many bruising rounds, William pinned Jhala for the count. There was a shocked