The Elephant Keeper's Daughter Read online

  Chapter Fourteen

  November 1822

  Phera stepped out of the forest and crossed the Mapitigama village square. In its center, as ever, stood the Bodhi tree. Like a bent old man with his walking stick, it leaned heavily on the posts supporting its branches. As the wind stirred its green canopy, it seemed to Phera that the ancient tree was greeting her. She realized how contented she felt to be back here, leaving behind, for a while, the loneliness of her forest hideout.

  She saw her mother come out of her hut on the other side of the square. Anshu was resting a basket on her hip and began scattering its contents. Phera guessed this to be the chopped shells of cashews, their subtle aroma helping to keep mosquitoes away. Thambo came out of the hut next. He was clutching a tiny broom made of a palm frond and eagerly helped spread the shells. It was heartwarming for Phera to watch the pair of them. Just then Thambo spotted his aunt. He squealed with glee, threw down his broom, and rushed over to her. Anshu waved.

  “Any news?” she asked once Phera had twirled Thambo around in fun.

  Phera gave a solemn nod. “We’re pretty sure Eranga’s death is related to a sapphire vein in the land Odell is trying to claim, but we have no hard evidence. I’m here to ask our men if they noticed anything when they were working on that part of the road.”

  Anshu set down her basket. “I’ll come with you to the men’s hideout. As widan, I would like to hear what they say.” She bent toward little Thambo. “I’ll be back very soon. Meanwhile, you can spread the shells nicely around our hut.”

  The two women crossed the spice-tree plantation and passed rice fields where the tiny emerald-green plants were growing. Children sat high on the raised points around the edges of the fields, doing their usual job of drumming and shouting to stop elephants from nibbling the young plants. Behind these lookout points was a visible path, only the breadth of a human foot, that led mother and daughter into the jungle.

  Anshu walked behind, looking at her daughter’s back. The tender looks she had seen between Henry and her daughter were troubling. If Phera gave her heart to someone, they should be Sinhalese from a good family and their own caste—not a Briton whose brother was a vile murderer.

  “You and the British doctor,” she began. “What’s between you two?”

  Phera brushed aside a branch hanging across their path. “I don’t know how to answer that, Mother,” she replied indignantly. But then added, “Between us is something special. A deep feeling.”

  “Your father would not approve.”

  Phera marched on, exasperation in her voice. “How can you know? We can’t exactly ask him. And anyway, Henry was the only Briton who tried to prevent the massacre in Uva.”

  “A massacre carried out by his brother!”

  Phera stopped so abruptly that Anshu bumped into her. “Do you think I don’t know that?”

  “I know he’s a good man,” Anshu tried again, “but you shouldn’t be so close.”

  Phera gave no reply, but pride and despair were written all over her face. It broke Anshu’s heart to know that what she was going to say next would hurt Phera. And yet as mother, head of the family, and widan of Mapitigama, she could not remain silent.

  “His brother will always stand between you. Between you and your family, between you and your people. I cannot accept Henry Odell and his brother into our family.”

  When she saw the pain in Phera’s eyes, she almost regretted what she had said. She went to embrace her daughter, but Phera pulled away.

  “That monster has long been part of our family,” she reminded her mother. “Or have you forgotten what he did to Samitha?”

  Anshu went pale. She shook her head but didn’t say a word.

  “Henry Odell is doing everything possible to help us and the people of Mapitigama,” said Phera. “He is taking a stand against his brother, against his own flesh and blood. That terrible man will not come between us.”

  Without waiting for her mother’s reply, she hurried on. The remaining ground was covered in oppressive silence.

  The men’s hideout was on the bank of a stream. From a distance, it was almost impossible to make it out, so well did its little huts of palm leaves and branches blend into the forest. Some men were dozing in the open, others washing their clothes in the stream. A few of them had gathered palm fronds to patch their roofs. When they saw Anshu and Phera, they swiftly gathered round their widan and her daughter.

  Phera described her visit to the abandoned stretch of road. Then she said, “We believe that Eranga found a sapphire in the blast hole. And that he died because of it.” She looked around the whole group. “After the explosion, did any of you see Eranga and Siddhi at the hole?”

  Two of the men looked at one another and nodded.

  “We saw them,” said one. “Siddhi was supposed to drag the boulder out of the crater. We used poles to raise it a bit so Eranga could run a cord underneath. When we were ready and he’d harnessed Siddhi, along came Major Odell. He jumped inside the crater and stayed down there a while. When he came up again, he ordered all construction work to stop.”

  At the same moment, Henry was stepping inside Charles’s tent. He did not greet his brother but came straight to the point. “There is no order for military action against Mapitigama. Why did you lie?”

  Charles rolled up the site plan spread before him on the desk and turned. “Oh, but surely you found out everything you wanted during your visit last night, didn’t you? Perhaps you should offer me another whisky with laudanum.”

  Henry was surprised he’d been found out, but he did not let it show. “I still have plenty of questions,” he replied coldly. “Let’s start with the supposed order.”

  Charles adopted his most scornful expression. “Merely a trick. I wanted to scare the brown monkeys a bit to make them leave of their own accord.”

  Henry did not believe this, but he did not pursue it, posing instead the most important question. “What do you want the land for, and why did you keep it a secret?”

  Charles did not flinch. “As you well know, I suffer from malaria and so will soon have to take my leave of the military life. I have sought this land for my own future. The climate in the uplands is supposed to be magnificent for the cultivation of coffee plants. And as you certainly already know, I’m getting the land at a good price, possibly even for nothing. I haven’t spoken of it for fear of stirring up envy.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous!” Henry snapped. “You’re not going to grow coffee. On this land, you think you’ve found a sapphire vein. I know you’ve got one gem already. I don’t suppose Paget knows what’s under the soil of your future coffee plantation?”

  Charles leaned back in his chair, looking icily at Henry. “These are very interesting things that you think you’ve found out. Pray continue, little brother.”

  Henry was ready to take Eranga’s sapphire from his pocket and wave it under Charles’s nose as evidence. But he thought better of it. Instead, he said, “I believe that Eranga, the dead mahout, had found you out.” What he actually wanted to ask was, Did you kill him? But he could not say it. He was too fearful of the answer.

  A vein pulsed hard at Charles’s left temple, but his face remained unmoved. “I think there have been a few misunderstandings here,” he said with a studied nonchalance. “Let me make a suggestion. We’ll go over to the plot together. Then I can show you what I’m planning.”

  He stood up and left the tent. After some hesitation, Henry followed.

  The brothers walked in silence through the forest. Only when they had reached the abandoned section of road did Henry speak up. “What do you intend to show me here?”

  Charles only gave a secretive smile and headed for the crater.

  “What’s this about?” asked Henry again, unnerved. “What’s here that you couldn’t have told me about back at the camp?”

  Charles stood at his side, very close. “At the bottom of this hole is a layer of gravel and sediment in which I did indeed find a sapph
ire. You saw it in my box.” He threw Henry a sidelong glance. “Where there’s one stone, there’re probably others. I stand a good chance of sitting on a rich deposit.”

  Henry summoned his courage. “And you’d walk over dead bodies for that, wouldn’t you? Or, to be more precise, over the former widan of Mapitigama.”

  “Please,” replied Charles, his voice full of disdain. “Aren’t you making too much fuss about a native’s life?”

  “So you admit you killed Eranga?”

  Charles gave a dismissive shrug. “The fellow spied on me and stuck his nose into things that weren’t any of his business. And he’s not the only one.”

  Charles raised his arm and, before Henry realized what was happening, punched him hard in the temple. Henry stumbled and collapsed. Charles kicked his boot in his unconscious brother’s side, then drew his knife and used it to cut the two cords, once part of Siddhi’s harness, from the rope that still ran the length of the boulder. He knelt down and used one of the cords to tie Henry’s hands behind his back. Then he rolled his brother over the crater’s edge. When Henry’s body hit the water with a loud splash, Charles looked around, but the jungle was quiet. He and his brother were alone here. He looked at Henry, facedown in the water and slowly sinking.

  “I ought to let you drown, little brother,” he said. “But where’s the fun if I make it too quick?”

  He leapt down into the hole, grabbed Henry by the collar, and fished him out of the water. “Wakey, wakey!” He shook his brother roughly, and it was only after a few punches that Henry came around, groaning as he did.

  “Let me go! What’s happening?” He tried to get free and stand up fully, but Charles hit him again, so hard that Henry lost his balance and toppled backward.

  “I do enjoy seeing you struggle!” Charles laughed at his brother, now thrashing around as he attempted to stay on his feet.

  “Are you planning to kill me, like Eranga?” Henry cried, once he had managed to stand again. “Do you really think some stupid stones are going to make you happy?”

  “I don’t just think it. I know it!” Charles took out his handkerchief and gagged Henry with it. Henry fought, but the ties bound him too tight.

  When Charles was ready, he pulled his defenseless brother over to the boulder and forced him up against it. Then he took the second cord, wound one end around Henry’s wrist, and secured the other to the rope that ran around the boulder.

  “That’ll stop you sniffing around after me,” he said with a sickly sweet smile.

  Desperate groans and grunts came through Henry’s gag. Charles had secured him to the boulder so tightly that he had to keep his knees bent instead of standing. He was up to his neck in water. Swarms of flies arrived and greedily settled on his face. He shook his head furiously, but this did nothing to deter the bloodthirsty creatures.

  Charles was having a fine time of it. “Vikrama Rajasinha made his opponents sit on young bamboo plants, then took pleasure in watching the shoots grow through their bodies. But it’s much better to be eaten by mosquitoes, don’t you think? Or maybe you’ll drown first, just like a rat. I think we’re in for rain.” He gave an exaggerated bow. “Farewell, little brother, it’s been an honor!” With this, he spun and clambered out of the crater. Once on solid ground, he turned for a final look at Henry, who stared fixedly up at him as he kept trying to pull himself free.

  “By pure chance I have come across a colossal treasure. I’m not letting anyone ruin that for me,” said Charles. “I’ve given the best years of my life and my health for this wretched country. This here”—he gestured grandly to the land—“is my reward.” He grinned broadly. “Early tomorrow morning, little brother, I’m going to teach the brown monkeys in that damned rebel village a real lesson. But before that I’ll be teaching your Sinhalese whore what a real man is.”

  “Where on earth is Henry? He should have been here ages ago,” whispered Phera to Siddhi.

  She stood on the edge of the clearing and peered anxiously into the jungle. The sun had already dipped behind the treetops, and darkness was falling rapidly. A monsoon rain shower threatened. Leaden clouds massed, in the distance thunder rumbled, and the wind rushed through the canopies of the trees. Siddhi whipped her tail nervously and stamped her front feet. Sensing how uneasy her friend was, she did not leave Phera’s side.

  There were several flashes of lightning, thunder crashing right behind. Phera’s heart raced, but she was not afraid of the storm. She was afraid for Henry. She squinted harder, but the light was too dim. Siddhi trumpeted a warning and tried to use her trunk to push her friend toward the small shelter. With reluctance, Phera turned to go. She had only just reached her hiding place when the gale let rip.

  Sleep did not come to Phera that night. Her hut offered little protection from the rain, anyway, so she crept out to find Siddhi, waiting close by. She crouched between the elephant’s front legs and stared into the darkness. The storm was deafening. It was so dark, she could not see her hand in front of her face. When lightning flickered across the heavens, the earth momentarily blazed an eerie, sulfurous yellow. She caught glimpses of the trees dancing wildly like black ghosts at play.

  “I know he won’t come while the weather’s like this,” said Phera, leaning against Siddhi’s leg. “I hope so much that he’s safe somewhere.” She let out an anxious sigh.

  The elephant reached down with her trunk, gently seeking out the girl’s hand and squeezing her fingers reassuringly.

  More lightning, and in the flash, someone seemed to dart across the clearing.

  “Henry!” shouted Phera, against a clap of thunder. But she was mistaken. It was not her beloved, only the slender trunk of a young tree bent by the wind.

  Disheartened, she dropped her head against Siddhi’s leg again. “If only he hadn’t gone to find his brother this afternoon,” she lamented. “What if that monster has done something to him? I’ve only just found Henry. I can’t lose him now.”

  Henry knew he was going to die that night. The water level now reached his lower lip. And still the rain poured down.

  He had already been stuck in this crater for what felt like an eternity. Initially, he had hoped Charles would return to set him free, having satisfied his cruelty. But this hope was fading by the minute. His own brother, out of pure greed and malice, was determined to let him perish.

  Cautiously, he shifted his weight. An agonizing pain shot through his muscles. His cry of pain was muffled by the gag. With his legs forcibly bent, he had endured agonizing cramps for hours now and knew he had to move them a little to keep the blood circulating.

  For a long time, he had doggedly tried to break free, pushing grimly against his bonds. But the palm-fiber cord that Charles had used to tie his hands had swollen in the water, making the binding even tighter. He had eventually given up, exhausted by the obvious pointlessness of his efforts.

  Now that he had resigned himself to being dead before the sun rose, he felt a tremendous sense of calm. As an army doctor, he had witnessed the deaths of so many colleagues that he had no fear of the end. He was ready to meet his maker.

  His one worry was Phera. He knew she’d been waiting for him since sunset. Through the dark night, his heart went out to her. He pictured his love flowing from his heart to hers so that she could always remember their brief but glorious happiness together.

  He had lost all sense of time but guessed it was not long until morning. The water now covered his mouth, and he could breathe only through his nose. Soon he felt the first tickles at his nostrils.

  He bent his head back as far as he could manage. The water surrounded his face like a perfect circle.

  Is drowning torture? he wondered. Death would not be quick. But even this would pass, and eternity was waiting.

  Rain fell on his face. The water level in the crater rose higher and higher. Then it covered his face and eyes, flowed into his nose, and seeped through the gag in his mouth. His lungs ached and felt as though they would burst. In one last
desperate attempt, he pushed against his bonds. In vain.

  He had journeyed here from England over many months and thousands of miles, had lived through his ship being becalmed one day and storm tossed the next, only to die now, in the jungle of Ceylon, in a water-filled hole as deep as a man is tall. He found it almost comical.

  Toward sunrise the storm moved on. When the first light appeared in the east, Phera climbed onto Siddhi’s back and rode to the construction site. Before reaching the huts assigned to the few remaining workers, she told her elephant to halt.

  “Wait here,” she whispered and vanished into the undergrowth.

  Soon she was at the first of the huts. She crept in, reached out her hand to the man still sleeping inside, and shook him awake. With a shriek of alarm, he sat bolt upright on his mat.

  “Quiet!” Phera grabbed his arm. “Tell me where the doctor is.”

  In the darkness, she heard the terrified man’s breathing and whispered, “Don’t be scared; I’m from Mapitigama. Just tell me where Dr. Odell is. Quickly!”

  “Yesterday afternoon the doctor and the major went off toward the stretch of road we abandoned,” the man whispered back. “But in the evening the major came back on his own.”

  “Thank you,” he heard a soft voice say in the darkness. Then he was alone again.

  The horizon was streaked with silvery blue when Charles stepped out from his tent. He yawned hugely as he looked at the patches of mist lifting from the mountain peaks. The weather seemed to be improving. Although thunder and lightning had robbed him of sleep that night, he was not tired. Quite the opposite: he was in thrall to a feverish unease.

  He was thinking about his brother, who had doubtless drowned overnight in that stupid hole. He felt a moment of regret but swiftly dismissed it. No point fussing over an inveterate philanthropist like Henry. He would still have to get rid of the body, though. Best throw it in the jungle for the leopards. But first he needed to deal with that nest of vipers in Mapitigama. More than that, he would teach his brother’s whore a lesson. He looked forward to that most of all.