The Flashman Papers: The Complete 12-Book Collection. George Fraser MacDonald

good, I can tell you.” I didn’t think much of Hudson’s questions about Gandamack and Elphy at the time; if I had done I would have been as much amused as angry, for it was like a foreign language to me then. But I understand it now, although half our modern generals don’t. They think their men are a different species still – fortunately a lot of ’em are, but not in the way the generals think.

      Well, another week went by in that infernal cell, and both Hudson and I were pretty foul by now and well bearded, for they gave us nothing to wash or shave with. My anxieties diminished a little, as they will when nothing happens, but it was damned boring with nothing to do but talk to Hudson, for we had little in common except horses. He didn’t even seem interested in women. We talked occasionally of escape, but there was little chance of that, for there was no way out except through the door, which stood at the top of a narrow flight of steps, and when the Afridis brought our food one of them always stood at the head of them covering us with a huge blunderbuss. I wasn’t in any great hurry to risk a peppering from it, and when Hudson talked of trying a rush I ordered him to drop it. Where would we have got to afterwards, anyway? We didn’t even know where we were, except that it couldn’t be far to the Kabul road. But it wasn’t worth the risk, I said – if! had known what was in store for us I’d have chanced that blunderbuss and a hundred like it, but I didn’t. God, I’ll never forget it. Never.

      It was late one afternoon, and we were lying on the straw dozing, when we heard the clatter of hooves at the gate outside, and a jumble of voices approaching the door of the cell. Hudson jumped up, and I came up on my elbow, my heart in my mouth, wondering who it might be. It might be a messenger bringing news of ransom – for I believed the Afridis must be trying that game – and then the bolts scraped back and the door burst open, and a tall man strode in to the head of the steps. I couldn’t see his face at first, but then an Afridi bustled past him with a flaring torch which he stuck in a crevice in the wall, and its light fell on the newcomer’s face. If it had been the Devil in person I’d have been better pleased, for it was a face I had seen in nightmares, and I couldn’t believe it was true, the face of Gul Shah.

      His eye lit on me, and he shouted with joy and clapped his hands. I believe I cried out in horror, and scrambled back against the wall.

      “Flashman!” he cried, and came half down the steps like a big cat, glaring at me with a hellish grin. “Now, God is very good. When I heard the news I could not believe it, but it is true. And it was just by chance – aye, by the merest chance, that word reached me you were taken.” He sucked in his breath, never taking his glittering eyes from me.

      I couldn’t speak; the man struck me dumb with cold terror. Then he laughed again, and the hairs rose on my neck at the sound of it.

      “And here there is no Akbar Khan to be importunate,” says he. He signed to the Afridis and pointed at Hudson. “Take that one away above and watch him.” And as two of them rushed down on Hudson and dragged him struggling up the steps, Gul Shah came down into the room and with his whip struck the hanging shackles a blow that set them rattling. “Set him” – and he points at me – “here. We have much to talk about.”

      I cried out as they flung themselves on me, and struggled helplessly, but they got my arms over my head and set a shackle on each wrist, so that I was strung up like a rabbit on a poulterer’s stall. Then Gul dismissed them and came to stand in front of me, tapping his boot with his whip and gloating over me.

      “The wolf comes once to the trap,” says he at last. “But you have come twice. I swear by God you will not wriggle out of it this time. You cheated me once in Kabul, by a miracle, and killed my dwarf by foul play. Not again, Flashman. And I am glad – aye, glad it fell out so, for here I have time to deal with you at my leisure, you filthy dog!” And with a snarl he struck me backhanded across the face.

      The blow loosened my tongue, for I cried out:

      “Don’t, for God’s sake! What have I done? Didn’t I pay for it with your bloody snakes?”

      “Pay?” sneers he. “You haven’t begun to pay. Do you want to know how you will pay, Flashman?”

      I didn’t, so I didn’t answer, and he turned and shouted something towards the door. It opened, and someone came in, standing in the shadows.

      “It was my great regret, last time, that I must be so hurried in disposing of you,” says Gul Shah. “I think I told you then, did I not, that I would have wished the woman you defiled to share in your departure? By great good fortune I was at Mogala when the word of your capture came, so I have been able to repair the omission. Come,” says he to the figure at the top of the steps, and the woman Narreeman advanced slowly into the light.

      I knew it was she, although she was cloaked from head to foot and had the lower half of her face shrouded in a flimsy veil: I remembered the eyes, like a snake’s, that had glared up at me the night I took her in Mogala. They were staring at me again, and I found them more terrifying than all Gul’s threats. She didn’t make a sound, but glided down the steps to his side.

      “You do not greet the lady?” says Gul. “You will, you will. But of course, she is a mere slut of a dancing girl, although she is the wife of a prince of the Gilzai!” He spat the words into my face.

      “Wife?” I croaked. “I never knew … believe me, sir, I never knew. If I …”

      “It was not so then,” says Gul. “It is so now – aye, though she has been fouled by a beast like you. She is my wife and my woman none the less. It only remains to wipe out the dishonour.”

      “Oh, Christ, please listen to me,” says I. “I swear I meant no harm … how was I to know she was precious to you? I didn’t mean to harm her, I swear I didn’t! I’ll do anything, anything you wish, pay anything you like …”

      Gul leered at me, nodding, while the woman’s basilisk eyes stared at me. “You will pay indeed. No doubt you have heard that our Afghan women are delicately skilled in collecting payment? I see from your face that you have. Narreeman is very eager to test that skill. She has vivid recollections of a night at Mogala; vivid recollections of your pride …” He leaned forward till his face was almost touching mine. “Lest she forget it, she wishes to take certain things from you, very slowly and cunningly, for a remembrance. Is it not just? You had your pleasure from her pain; she will have hers from yours. It will take much longer, and be infinitely more artistic … a woman’s touch.” He laughed. “That will be for a beginning.”

      I didn’t believe it; it was impossible, outrageous, horrible; it was enough to strike me mad just listening to it.

      “You can’t!” I shrieked. “No, no, no, you can’t! Please, please, don’t let her touch me! It was a mistake! I didn’t know, I didn’t mean to hurt her!” I yelled and pleaded with him, and he crowed with delight and mocked me, while she never moved a muscle, but still stared into my face.

      “This will be better than I had hoped,” says he. “Afterwards, we may have you flayed, or perhaps roasted over hot embers. Or we may take out your eyes and remove your fingers and toes, and set you to some slave-work in Mogala. Yes, that will be best, for you can pray daily for death and never find it. Is the price too high for your night’s pleasure, Flashman?”

      I was trying to close my ears to this horror, trying not to believe it, and babbling to him to spare me. He listened, grinning, and then turned to the woman and said:

      “But business before pleasure. My dove, we will let him think of the joyous reunion that you two will have – let him wait for – how long? He must wonder about that, I think. In the meantime, there is a more urgent matter.” He turned back to me. “It will not abate your suffering in the slightest if you tell me what I wish to know; but I think you will tell me, anyway. Since your pathetic and cowardly army was slaughtered in the passes, the Sirdar’s army has advanced towards Jallalabad. But we have no word of Nott and his troops at Kandahar. It is suggested that they have orders – to march on Kabul? On Jallalabad? We require to know. Well?”

      It took a moment for me to clear my mind of the hellish pictures he had put there, and understand