‘Before even Zeman was aware of what was happening a figure had leapt from the shadows and stabbed his brothers to death. The man, a man with red hair, then pulled up the shirt of one of them and slashed his flesh with the point of his dagger.’

Lily gasped and shuddered.

As though speaking only to her, Iskander said, ‘This would not be the surprising and sickening deed you might think. It is the custom among the tribes to carve their tribal symbol on the backs of their enemies.’

‘And sometimes they even wait until they’re dead,’ said Rathmore waspishly.

As though he had not even heard the interruption Iskander went on, ‘Zeman remained calm. He did not cry out but aimed his jezail and fired. But the hammer stuck and the British soldier began to run. Zeman tracked him as he ran and pulled the trigger again. This time it freed itself and he was certain he had hit him. He climbed down to attend to his brothers. With a burning anger against the man who had done this he copied the letters which he could not understand on to his arm with a piece of burned wood and later copied them on to paper so that he might one day identify what he assumed to be a tribal symbol.’

‘What did it say?’ asked Lily. ‘Do you know, Iskander?’

‘No one could work it out, not even the ones among us who knew English. I showed the word to my English teacher one day in Peshawar and he could not understand either. Look!’ He took a stick and wrote in a few brisk strokes in the sand: EENDO!

‘Can’t figure it out,’ said Lily, considering.

‘Nor could Zeman until some years later. At school in England he was idly writing out the letters which he regularly did to keep it fresh in his mind and his anger glowing when the boy at the next desk looked over and said, “I say, Khan, never would have taken you for a Scotsman!” Zeman asked him to explain. His neighbour was a McGregor and had recognized the motto of an enemy tribe – the Lindsays. “E’en do and spare not!” ’

‘Look, I’m awful sorry to be slow here but I still don’t know what it means,’ Lily complained.

‘“Even do… ” ’ said Joe. ‘In other words, “Go right ahead and take no prisoners!” ’

‘So when, after many years, Zeman encountered in Peshawar a certain red-haired Major Lindsay who had served on the frontier before the war he resolved to be avenged for his brothers.’

‘And Grace’s escort duty provided the perfect opportunity,’ said Joe.

‘Yes, indeed. I was supposed to be in charge of the troop but Zeman insisted on coming with us as senior officer. He counted on being invited into the fort where he could get close enough to Lindsay to kill him.’

‘Zeman? I’m finding this a bit hard to swallow,’ said Lily. ‘He was charming, he was amusing – he got on so well with James!’ She gasped and then said slowly, ‘Oh, Lord! Do you remember? I think I recall… when I was about to shoot that darned pheasant Zeman said, “Slay and spare not, Miss Coblenz!” Was he needling James? Saying, “I’m here. I know who you are.” Taunting him?’

‘Yes, all that. I’m sure, Lily,’ said Joe. ‘But look, Iskander, you must have seen this situation developing, have been aware of the awful consequences of such a rash act? I didn’t see you as a bloodthirsty warmonger!’

Iskander replied a little stiffly, ‘I am Afridi. I too live by the laws of pukhtunwali. I understand badal and I understand Zeman’s compulsion. In his place I would have felt the same urge to avenge my brothers. Nevertheless, the time was not an opportune one. I was uneasy because we were the guests of Major Lindsay. He had welcomed us as friends within the gates of Gor Khatri. That evening after the feast I tried to talk Zeman out of his plans, to persuade him to pursue them at a later day.’

Joe wondered whether Iskander was trying to convey a message to Lily by this little speech – ‘Once an Afridi, always an Afridi. Untameable. Untransplantable.’ Grace at any rate seemed to have understood and she flashed at Joe a look of unfathomable intensity.

‘And what were his plans?’ asked Joe, feeling he already knew the answer.

‘We were both to change into our uniforms and be ready to leave the fort by the chiga gate that night. Our men had been warned and we had bribed the guards. Zeman was to go up to Lindsay’s room in the middle of the night – he had found out from the sweeper which was Lindsay’s room – and stab him in the throat with his dagger just as Lindsay had killed his brother. I waited all night for Zeman’s signal but it never came. With some relief I assumed he’d changed his mind and I fell asleep until the noise on the stairs awoke me the next morning.’

Joe flicked a glance at Grace who was staring at the ground, determinedly silent.

‘But there were two people in James’s room,’ said Lily. ‘There was Betty. What about Betty?’

‘If she had wakened he would have killed her too. Two brothers, two lives in reparation. It would not have been my way but I do believe Zeman was corrupted by his contact with the West where it is nothing to kill a woman. An everyday occurrence you might say. I am sure Sandilands can confirm this,’ Iskander said with a touch of defiance. ‘I was unable to dissuade him.’

‘But he didn’t succeed in his attempt,’ said Joe. ‘I heard James lock his door on retiring at eleven o’clock. The downstairs rooms including yours and Zeman’s do not have locks and there was no reason to suppose that those on the first floor would have. But they do. Zeman would not have known that. If he had reached James’s room that night he would not have been able to get in without banging the door down and that didn’t happen.’ He looked again at Grace but she avoided his eye. ‘And Zeman died of poisoning. Now I know what you’re all thinking – we’ve got an easy equation here. At last we have a motive and it’s all beginning to add up. But is it? Zeman is about to attempt to kill James so James, the target, finds out somehow and forestalls the attempt by killing Zeman first in a sort of premeditated self-defence. Mmm. That makes no sense to me. I know my friend. He’s got a hell of a temper – I’ve seen him kill with a gun, a knife and even his bare hands. He wouldn’t go sneaking around popping poison in his sherbet. What have you to add, Grace?’

At last she responded to his direct challenge and her eyes narrowed for a moment. A signal? A warning?

‘I know your interpretation is the correct one, Joe. I am equally certain that James did not kill Zeman and I will swear to that on a Bible if you have one. But it doesn’t matter, I’m afraid, what I think or what you think, because in the minds of the Afridi – and for this you must take the blame, Iskander – James did away with Ramazad’s third son whilst his guest at the fort and also his two older sons and that’s quite an overdraft on goodwill!’

‘How heavily did that weigh with Ramazad when you were bargaining with him, Grace?’ asked Lily.

‘Ramazad! I think I caught him, just for once in his life, at an emotional moment! I told him clearly that I’d just presented him with the lives of his wife and son – he knew quite well that they would both certainly have died if I hadn’t intervened. And I slipped into the balance the death of my husband fighting the Afridi.’

‘Three all?’ said Lily.

‘Three all. As you say. It was a gamble and I was far from sure I’d be able to talk him into giving up the need to demand badal with all that tribal pride at stake, but I think he was moved by the story of my husband’s death and he said to me what the Afridi always say – “But your husband died at Afridi hands!” (Not quite true but near enough.) “How can you bring yourself to save Afridi lives?” I think the euphoria of having his wife restored to him turned things in our favour and after a bit of bluster and some very uncomplimentary epithets linked with James’s name, he agreed to wipe the slate clean!’ She sighed. ‘I think… I hope this marks a significant turning in our dealings with the Afridi. But what an effort!’