He nodded in return, then started away.
DARKNESS HAD fallen by the time Mariana awoke. The scent of food wafted up the stairs, but no one came to fetch her. Too exhausted to care, she went back to sleep.
By the time a pair of girls arrived to announce that dinner was ready, male voices were audible elsewhere in the house. The family must have kept the food waiting until its fighters had returned.
As the men laughed and shouted in the room below, Mariana sat warily in a small room with a sandali in the center, watched closely by several women and children.
How many soldiers and camp followers had died of cold and hunger today? she wondered, as she stared without appetite at the mountain of mutton and rice before her on the table, and warmed her feet beneath the family sandali.
How many of the retreating force had Aminullah, and those men downstairs, slaughtered today? How many had Aminullah killed after he left her at this house and galloped away?
She nodded politely to her hostesses and rose to her feet. As she pulled on her boots outside the door, one of them pulled the door curtain aside.
"Make ready," she ordered, in accented Farsi. "You are to leave here soon."
"Leave here?" Mariana hesitated. "Would it be possible for me to go to Kabul? Someone is expecting me there."
Please, please let them take me to Haji Khan's house "Kabul?" The woman grimaced and shook her head. "You cannot go there. We are sending you to the British fort at Jalalabad. A kafila will be taking you over the Lataband Pass. You are to join their camp tonight."
Voices shouted up the stairs.
"Get your poshteen," the woman urged Mariana. "They are waiting."
The cold was stunning. A camel knelt in the narrow street, its driver wrapped to his eyes in a shawl. Mariana climbed onto the camel's back and clutched the saddle as it jerked to its feet.
Perhaps Hassan had not died, she told herself as she rode out through the gate of the town, the camel's ankle bells chinking with every step. Perhaps one day she would reach Lahore, and find him waiting.
The landscape sloped away in folds, hill upon snowy hill. It had been here that she had asked Munshi Sahib if she would ever see Hassan and Saboor again.
Swaying on the camel's back, miserable with cold and loss, she closed her eyes and dreamed fitfully of her time in India. She relived her rescue of little Saboor, and her first, moonlit meeting with Shaikh Waliullah. She remembered Safiya Sultana's story about the prince who became a beggar, and her own terrifying afternoon alone on the violent streets of Lahore. She recalled Munshi Sahib's fable of the king's messenger and Haji Khan's beautiful, evocative durood.
She thought of Nur Rahman, begging her to recite the Shahada Shahada, the attestation of the faith they all shared.
All of them had been her teachers. Surely their lessons meant something. Surely they fitted together to make a whole She opened her eyes. A full moon shone through the latticework of her chaderi. It hung before her, its light falling on snowy ground so pale that it could have been desert sand.
Camel bells chinked. The moon beckoned her forward.
They were turning. The moon, no longer in front of her, was now at her shoulder. This was wrong. They were going the wrong way.
Dismount from the camel. The voice in her head was so clear and so commanding that Mariana looked over her shoulder, to see if someone behind her had spoken. The voice in her head was so clear and so commanding that Mariana looked over her shoulder, to see if someone behind her had spoken.
She bent forward to look at the camel driver. Hunched over against the cold, he trudged on.
Dismount, repeated the voice, and follow the path of the moon. and follow the path of the moon.
They were heading downhill, traversing a snow-covered slope. Soon the moon would be behind her, not in front.
Follow the path to peace, ordered the voice.
Each of her teachers, the Shaikh, Safiya Sultana, Munshi Sahib, and Haji Khan, had spoken of journeys and homecomings. Even Nur Rahman, who had danced for her in the snow, had offered the same lesson-that although the way might be difficult, the goal was beautiful beyond imagining.
Follow the path. She ceased thinking. Moving as if under someone else's volition, she slid one leg over the camel's saddle. Timing her fall so she would not be kicked, she took a deep breath, and let herself slide to the ground. She ceased thinking. Moving as if under someone else's volition, she slid one leg over the camel's saddle. Timing her fall so she would not be kicked, she took a deep breath, and let herself slide to the ground.
She landed jarringly on her side. Her thumping fall must have been startlingly loud in that silent place, but by the time she gathered herself and looked up, the camel was already beyond her, striding away as if its driver had heard nothing.
This was madness. If she did not run after it, shouting, she would be- It was too late. The camel had vanished around a pile of rocks.
She was entirely alone.
Follow the moon.
She pushed herself to her feet. Weighed down by her heavy posh-teen, she turned to face the moon, then began working her way toward it, making a new, uphill path through the knee-deep snow.
Had this been a mistake? She stopped to catch her breath, aware that she was tiring rapidly. Had her mind played a trick on her, counterfeiting that voice with its compelling instructions? Unable to go any farther, would she die here on this slope, with only the moon for company?
"I call to witness," her munshi had recited here, at Butkhak, on the day before she entered Kabul, her munshi had recited here, at Butkhak, on the day before she entered Kabul, "The ruddy glow of sunset; The night and its homing, and The moon in her fullness; Thou shalt surely travel From stage to stage."
All the lessons she had learned had brought her to this moonlit landscape where there was no sound but the wind in her ears.
Nur Rahman had longed for the companions of Paradise, but she had found Hassan. He would be her companion here on earth, if they lived to meet again. And there were others-her teachers and Ghulam Ali and Yar Mohammad, and bumbling, talkative Dittoo.
If she did not survive the night, perhaps they would all meet one day in Paradise Look up, ordered the voice.
A fire glowed in the distance.
Her exhausted breathing echoed in her ears, but hope offered her new strength. Whoever these people were, she thought, as she started toward their beckoning fire, they would not refuse her warmth and shelter.
The moon shone down on a small encampment. Jezails leaned, steepled together, in the snow. Pack ponies and mules blew and stamped. Tents clustered near the fire. In one, there was light. The silhouettes of two men moved against its wall.
A third male figure huddled at the fire, its light playing on his face. Delirious from cold and exhaustion, Mariana imagined that his pale beard belonged to someone she knew, but that could not be.
He did not see her approaching.
One of the silhouettes stood. A man emerged through the opening of the glowing tent, his head covered in a shawl. He stepped toward the fire.
"Ghulam Ali," he ordered, "go to your tent. Do not punish yourself by staying outside in this cold."
The first man shook his head. "Your wife is lost," he crooned, rocking back and forth. "Bibi is lost, and I am to blame."
"No," Hassan Ali Khan said. "It was my fault from the beginning." He stared into the fire, as if he had forgotten the other man's presence. "I learned too late what she offered me," he went on, his voice breaking. "I did not see clearly-"
Both men looked up, startled, when Mariana began to run.
A moment later, three hundred and sixty miles away, Saboor, the son of Hassan Ali Khan, opened his eyes and smiled.
To the Governor-General of India Government House, Calcutta February 15, 1842 Your Lordship I am pleased to report that our intelligence officer Adrian Lamb has arrived in Delhi after surviving the disaster at Kabul.
He and his wife escaped the cantonment shortly before the retreat, and have come down to India via Kandahar with a group of Afghan nomads. They arrived in Delhi three days ago. Apart from what Mrs. Lamb has described as "the unspeakable squalor" of their journey, they are unharmed.
Although we have no definite news as yet, it seems very likely that the dreadful rumors we have heard are true: that of the fourteen thousand souls who left the cantonment on the morning of January 6th, only one man, Dr. Brydon, ever reached Jalalabad, where General Sale and the 1st Brigade were waiting. If this proves to be the case, then except for Akbar Khan's thirty hostages, all the others must be presumed dead.
It is believed, although not confirmed, that General Sir William Elphinstone, Lady Macnaghten, Lady Sale, LadyMacnaghten's nephew Charles Mott, and Lady Sale's daughter Mrs. Sturt are among Akbar's prisoners, whose number includes ladies, children, and wounded officers.
We are, of course, making every effort to procure their release.
I should mention a curious part of Adrian Lamb's story-his niece, a girl by the name of Mariana Givens, vanished from a caravanserai outside of Kabul while waiting with her uncle for the nomad caravan to depart.
Lamb insists the girl is in Lahore, under the protection of someone called Hassan Ali Khan. Having met the man in Peshawar I can say that I would not put it past him to have taken Miss Givens there. And since our present difficulties would preclude any attempt at her recovery, I suppose that is where she will remain.
I am Your Lordship's most humble and obedient servant Major Horatio Wade
GLOSSARY.
Note: Four languages appear in this Glossary: Arabic, Urdu, Farsi (Persian), and Pushto. As many of them overlap, I have designated the root language wherever possible. Occasional words from other languages are mentioned specifically.
A.
Afridi, p. p.
Pashtun tribe living on the border between Afghanistan and India (now Pakistan) Pashtun tribe living on the border between Afghanistan and India (now Pakistan) Akhal Tekke breed of Turkmen horses known from ancient times as the Heavenly Horses, and prized for their beauty and endurance (Turki word) breed of Turkmen horses known from ancient times as the Heavenly Horses, and prized for their beauty and endurance (Turki word) Al-Hamdulillah a. a. Praise be to God Praise be to God aloo keema, u. u.
spicy stew of goat meat and potatoes spicy stew of goat meat and potatoes amir, a. f a. f king, ruler king, ruler Ammi-Jan, u. u.
affectionate term for mother affectionate term for mother Aryans people from Central Asia who are said to have invaded the Indian subcontinent from 1500 people from Central Asia who are said to have invaded the Indian subcontinent from 1500 BC BC to 100 to 100 BC BC
asr, a. a.
evening; the pre-sunset Muslim prayer is the asr prayer evening; the pre-sunset Muslim prayer is the asr prayer As-salaam-o-alaikum, a. a.
"May peace be upon you," the standard greeting among Muslims "May peace be upon you," the standard greeting among Muslims atta, u. u.
whole-wheat flour whole-wheat flour attar, u. f. p. u. f. p.
perfumed oil perfumed oil Az barae Khuda, f. f. For God's sake! For God's sake!
B.
bacha male child; a Hindi word male child; a Hindi word badragha, p. p.
armed escort armed escort Bala Hisar, f. f.
palace and fort of the kings of Afghanistan palace and fort of the kings of Afghanistan barat, u. u.
bridegroom's procession that comes to fetch the bride after a marriage bridegroom's procession that comes to fetch the bride after a marriage bazaar, u. f. u. f.
marketplace marketplace Begeer, f. f.
Seize them! Seize them!
Bhai Jan, u. u.
polite form of address for an elder brother polite form of address for an elder brother Bhaji, u. u.
polite form of address for an elder female relative polite form of address for an elder female relative Bibi, u. f. u. f.
polite form of address for a young lady polite form of address for a young lady c
caravanserai, u. f. u. f.
stopping place for travelers; a large area, enclosed on four sides, with a large open space in the center, and storage sheds and accommodation for travelers along the walls stopping place for travelers; a large area, enclosed on four sides, with a large open space in the center, and storage sheds and accommodation for travelers along the walls chaderi, f. f.
woman's long, gathered cotton cloak that starts from a quilted cap on the head, then falls over woman's long, gathered cotton cloak that starts from a quilted cap on the head, then falls over
the shoulders and to the ground, covering awoman completely; a separate long flap fallsfrom the front of the cap to cover the face-this flap has a latticework hole in front toallow the wearer to see out chaikhana, u. f. u. f.
tea shop tea shop chapan full-length, long-sleeved coat worn by Uzbekpeople of northern Afghanistan full-length, long-sleeved coat worn by Uzbekpeople of northern Afghanistan chappati, u. f. p. u. f. p.
flat whole-wheat bread; in Afghanistan, chappati is a round whole-wheat bread rangingfrom nine to twenty-four inches in diameter flat whole-wheat bread; in Afghanistan, chappati is a round whole-wheat bread rangingfrom nine to twenty-four inches in diameter chappli, u. u.
sandal; also refers to the texture and shape ofthe spicy kababs of Peshawar, made withground meat and dried pomegranate seeds, that are said to resemble sandals sandal; also refers to the texture and shape ofthe spicy kababs of Peshawar, made withground meat and dried pomegranate seeds, that are said to resemble sandals charpai, u. f. u. f.
traditional bed with a simple frame and fourcarved legs, strung with rope traditional bed with a simple frame and fourcarved legs, strung with rope chillum, p. p.
water pipe in which tobacco is burned by hotcoals, and the smoke filtered through water[see also narghile, hookah] water pipe in which tobacco is burned by hotcoals, and the smoke filtered through water[see also narghile, hookah]
choga, u. f. p. u. f. p.
full-length coat, open in front, worn inAfghanistan and northern India; mid-nineteenth-century ones were made of plainwool, the best being of soft camel hair withsubtle embroidery full-length coat, open in front, worn inAfghanistan and northern India; mid-nineteenth-century ones were made of plainwool, the best being of soft camel hair withsubtle embroidery chup, u. p. u. p.
Keep quiet! Keep quiet!