Prudence (Page 78)

Rue said, “And the tax money?”

Mrs Featherstonehaugh was offhand. “The Vanaras have certain expectations and I wished to parlay. Besides, those nasty Rakshasas don’t deserve the funds!”

“And Dama’s tea? You were given a sacred charge.” It was, after all, the reason Rue had come to India in the first place.

Mrs Featherstonehaugh looked frustrated. “The Vanaras like nothing better than tea – it’s the perfect bribe. He should understand.”

Rue considered her Dama’s feelings on the matter. “I doubt it.” After all, this was some very important tea.

At this juncture, the Vanara Alpha stepped up to Mrs Featherstonehaugh and prattled out a query. The lady answered him, her flow and mastery of the language far superior to Percy’s. Percy looked appropriately impressed.

Rue, who had initially admired Mrs Featherstonehaugh’s boldness, was now finding it abrasive. Mrs Featherstonehaugh reminded Rue of a small blonde version of her mother. Which was only a good thing when they were on the same side. Currently, and through no fault of her own, Rue had been forced into justifying a policy made ten years before she had been born. A policy that she had only recently learnt of and that, until a week ago, had had no bearing on her life whatsoever. If they hadn’t been arguing so aggressively, Rue might actually come around to agreeing with this horrible woman.

Rue tried to think about it without the spur of conflict, from the Vanara perspective. What if this was the war against Napoleon and she had come in and allied herself with the French because she had a policy that said she favoured all French emperors under a certain height? Absurd. Britain’s current supernatural policy might seem equally absurd to the Vanaras. If Vanaras and Rakshasas never thought of themselves as kin – despite being both immortal, both supernatural, both undead – then they would, perforce, think of themselves as different species. Scientific truth or not, some definitions are a matter of cultural tradition. It all comes down to categorisation in the end.

Rue said, “Percy, do you remember anything about the SAD treaty with India, the original document as written between Bloody John and the Rakshasas?”

Percy said, “Of course I do. I remember most of it.”

“You didn’t happen to bring a copy in that satchel of yours, did you?”

“The Vanaras took it away from me.” He was petulant, a schoolboy deprived of his sweeties.

“Well, cast your mind back, would you? Are the Rakshasas named as allies by title, or does it use the word vampires, or does it simply say local supernatural representatives?”

Percy thought about this for a long time.

Rue said, knowing she was up against his pride as an academic, “This is important, professor. Please don’t say it either way if you can’t remember exactly. You know how solicitors get.”

Percy’s face was glum in the flickering bonfire. “I can’t recall the precise wording, Rue. But I think I follow your reasoning. They would have used the standard SAD paperwork which hasn’t changed since Good Queen Bess. That one employs the vague descriptive ‘native supernatural element’ specifically so that vampires can’t be named before werewolves, or vice versa. In which case…” He intentionally trailed off.

Rue turned back to Mrs Featherstonehaugh. She had stopped her conversation with the Vanara Alpha and was watching Percy intently. “Mrs Featherstonehaugh, did you study the original agreement with India under the Supernatural Acceptance Decree? The one that has been causing all this fuss?”

“No.”

“Has your friend there?”

Mrs Featherstonehaugh asked the Vanara Alpha. “No.”

“Then there is a possibility that the solution has existed all along. The standard treaty calls for an alliance with local supernaturals. Whether the Vanaras considered themselves of a similar type to the Rakshasas or not, Her Majesty did and does. They have been allied with us all along. Of course, we would have to make the case that whoever signed it for the Rakshasas also signed for the Vanaras.”

Mrs Featherstonehaugh said, “How do you know they want to be our allies?”

Rue almost stamped her foot. “But it is a solution! They could come out of hiding, join forces with a progressive nation, collect back taxes, trade for all the technology they want. The queen would treat them fairly, I know she would.”

Mrs Featherstonehaugh cocked her head, translating and then listening to the Vanara Alpha’s thoughts on the matter. “He says they did very well before the British arrived. They do not want our help, our technology, or our entanglement. He says India is theirs.”

“Oh dear,” said Rue. “They really are dissidents.”

Percy shook his head. “It’s too late now. Industry is in place – sky trains and rails criss-cross this land. If he knows history first-hand, he knows that there is no progress backwards. There is only the engine of empire, advancing. We are civilisation and order. They would do well to ally with us now if at all possible.” It seemed a ridiculous statement coming from an effete academic strapped to a rock.

Mrs Featherstonehaugh was upset by such broad imperialist sentiments. As the wife of a brigadier, she really shouldn’t be surprised – it was her husband’s business to enforce expansion. Still she said, “But, professor, they are so lovely and unsullied here in their forest, can we not leave them in peace? Allow them to continue their battle with the Rakshasas. Pretend we never met them at all.”

Rue said, “You were the one who wanted contact. You were the one who insisted they had been wronged. That the treaty should be righted.”

Mrs Featherstonehaugh’s face fell. “I did not consider the repercussions.”

Rue said, “Progressive is not only what England is. It is what we do unto others.”

“But is that right?” the lady wondered as if for the first time. Her arrogance was somewhat lost in moral quandry.

Rue considered her own existence. At any other time or place than England in the reign of Queen Victoria, she would not be alive. Even now, in this enlightened age, most of Europe hunted and killed supernatural creatures whenever possible, with increasing efficiency. Scientists were always making more and better anti-supernatural weapons. England had managed a balance which included acceptance of once-feared monsters. Perhaps the Great British Empire forced that acceptance upon others, but it was a policy that at its heart Rue could not help but endorse. It made up her world and, more importantly, her family.