Free Supping With Panthers by Tom Holland Page B

The Professor bobbed and smiled. ‘Put it on your brow.’ Eliot did so. ‘There,’ said the Professor. ‘Now these creatures cannot smell you. It is an old legend but, as I have proved to my satisfaction, none the less true for that.’ He opened up his bag again. ‘All of you,’ he said, ‘you must smear it on too. No, no, thicker,’ he instructed, as I dabbed it on my cheek. ‘For otherwise…’ He paused. ‘Otherwise, I think, we have no hope of escape.’
    Well, by now we were all unchained and ready to give the attempt our best crack at least. Before we left, however, Eliot insisted on inspecting us all. I asked him what he was looking for. ‘Bite marks,’ he replied, as he scanned down my chest.
    ‘But surely,’ I said, ‘if the disease were in our blood, we would know about it now?’
    ‘Not at all,’ answered Professor Jyoti. ‘It depends on the strength of the victim. I have known one man hold out for almost two weeks.’
    ‘Two weeks? Good Lord! Who the devil was that?’
    ‘Don’t you remember?’ asked Professor Jyoti. ‘Colonel Rawlinson mentioned him to you, I believe.’
    ‘Of course!’ I said, snapping my fingers as it came to me. ‘That agent, the one who—’
    ‘Shot himself through the heart. Yes, Captain,’ Professor Jyoti nodded, and stared deep into my eyes. ‘He was my brother.’ He bowed his head, and turned and left the cell. I did not try to follow him, but I felt for the man. So his brother too had been as brave as he. A remarkable pair, I thought. Yes, a remarkable pair!
    We joined the Professor at last when Eliot had passed us all fit. Our cell was deep in the ground, and as I climbed the steps towards a daylight I had feared I might never see again, I recognised at once where the savages had brought us. Behind was the ruined temple through which we had come the night before; just ahead, the giant statues and the empty throne. It reeked of gore and flies were swarming over it. I stared up at the throne and saw how fresh the blood and intestines seemed, far fresher than those I had touched the night before. We all of us, I think, put our hands up to our mouths.
    ‘What is it?’ the Sergeant-Major asked eventually.
    Eliot looked at him. ‘It is the remains of the victims sacrificed last night,’ he said, speaking very slowly. ‘Look.’ He was pointing at a large golden bowl. ‘Remember it? They used it to gather the remains. It is an offering to Kali.’ He turned to the Professor. ‘Am I right, Huree? That empty throne – it is Kali’s, is it not?’
    Professor Jyoti bobbed his head. ‘So we must assume.’ He pointed to the statues of the six women on either side. ‘Observe these figures, though. According to the legends of the hill-folk, they are the guardians of the goddess’s shrine. They protect it when their mistress is absent, but they are not otherwise seen. So this is very good. It would suggest that Kali herself is not here.’
    ‘Steady on, old chap,’ I protested, ‘you’re talking about this woman as though she might almost be real.’
    ‘Real?’ The Professor smiled and spread his arms. ‘What do we mean by real?’
    ‘Damned if I know. You’re the Professor, you tell me.’
    ‘If she exists – if …’ – his voice trailed away – ‘then she is something terrible. Something, perhaps, beyond the reckoning of man.’
    We all stared at him in silence; then the Sergeant-Major cleared his throat. ‘And this lady,’ he asked, ‘if she isn’t here…’
    ‘Yes?’
    ‘Well then, sir – where would she be?’
    ‘Ah.’ The Professor shrugged. ‘That is a different issue altogether. But not here, and that is all that matters to us for the present. Not here.’ He laughed suddenly. ‘So come – let us make use of our advantage. Let us leave this place as soon as we can.’
    And off we set. The place seemed deserted, but as before we were careful as we went, for if we couldn’t be smelled we could still be seen. We kept up a