Chapter six
Of freedom, fires and flyers“The hospitality of Paline Valley is at your disposal, Jiktar,” I said to the officer commanding this Train of Supply. “Wine, food, music, all are yours to command. As to girls, you must pay in blood, if you wish, in that department.”
He took my meaning.
All the same, during the festivities in which Nulty raised his eyebrows at the lavishness of ale and wine and dopa I insisted be poured out, a couple of half-drunken voswods attempted young Pansi, who cared for the chickens in the smaller compound. The two were apprehended before much mischief had been done, although Pansi, bleeding from a bruised mouth and her dress ripped, continued to cry out of shock. I said to the Jiktar, a bulky man with a gut and a half, who squinted most dreadfully, “I am
