‘But stop at nothing to do what?’
‘To maintain control of my brother and his own power.’
She sighed. This really wasn’t something to concern her.
Jay started the motorcycle up again and they continued on for a while, neither attempting to speak until he pulled up where a shroud of dust lay over a village of baked mud houses. Glad to stretch her legs, Eliza got out and gazed around her. The houses almost seemed as if they had risen from the earth like a tree or a bush might have done, and the simple beauty of the soft lines of the buildings drew her photographer’s eye. This time she would only use her Rolleiflex.
‘Thegarh, or fort, is the ancestral home of the landowner of the area,’ Jay was saying. ‘We will meet him first.’
‘The locals too?’
‘Yes, yes, but we must introduce ourselves to the Thakur first. He has an interest in art, and is something of an artist himself. He is the nobleman who took Indi under his wing. We have much to be thankful for.’
As they strolled through the village Eliza smiled as she watched the harmonious mix of craftspeople plying their trade, women walking like queens as they fetched water from the well, children running and shouting in the streets, and even animals grazing. Sleeping dogs lay everywhere and everyone they passed seemed friendly. Despite Jay’s personal remarks earlier she felt a wave of gratitude that he’d brought her here, and followed as he walked through the village with easy long-legged strides.
‘The family belongs to the same clan as we do,’ Jay said. ‘And my brother Anish is chief of the clan. See, there’s the fort.’
Eliza gazed at a golden fort, small but very pretty, and as they entered through a stone archway they were guided to an interior garden where the Thakur was painting at an easel. He was another of these tall dignified men Eliza was becoming used to meeting, except this man had grey in his moustache and was clearly much older than Jay. He rose from his seat, wiped his hands with a cloth and came towards them, arms outstretched.
‘Welcome, welcome,’ he was saying. ‘Jayant. Wonderful to see you and your lovely companion. What can I get you?’
‘A cool drink for both of us,’ Jay said. ‘All right with you, Eliza?’
She nodded and put her palms together in the usual way of welcome.
‘So, please, take a seat, both of you.’
As they made themselves comfortable he carried on talking. ‘This place was built some two hundred years ago, granted by the Maharajah for my ancestor’s bravery. In return for the estate, he had to maintain eight horses for the Maharajah’s cavalry and was expected to take part in any battles. Luckily that no longer applies to me.’
She smiled. ‘I’m hoping to take photographs of the villagers. Will they be happy for me to do so?’
‘No problem at all. I believe photography will be the new art.’
‘I hope it won’t replace painting but will live alongside it,’ she said.
‘Indeed. Jayant here tells me you speak our language.’
‘A little.’
‘She’s being modest.’
‘And how is Indira?’ the Thakur asked Jay. He was smiling but his eyes looked tense. ‘She rarely visits.’
‘I know you understand why.’
The man’s face fell. ‘Yes indeed, though I miss her sunny presence, but let us not dwell on the past.’
Eliza longed to hear more, but something about the look on both men’s faces stopped her asking. When they all got to their feet, Jay and the Thakur stepped away for a moment and Eliza couldn’t hear what was said.
Then the Thakur led the way out of the fort. ‘This place was once surrounded by mud walls. My grandfather built these stone walls but most of thegarhstands as it originally was. The gate was enlarged so that a man sitting in ahowdahon the back of an elephant could pass through.’
‘It’s very splendid,’ Eliza said.
He nodded. ‘Before you take photographs would you like to meet Indira’s grandmother?’
‘I’d love to.’
‘I’ll take you there and then leave you to it.’
