Land of Hope and Glory by Geoffrey Wilson Page A

sobbing, looking at the ground, her shoulders shuddering.
    Jack realised he was crying as well. It felt as though his life up until this moment had been mere theatre and now all the props and costumes had been put away. ‘Elizabeth, you stay strong. I’m going to get you out of here. I promise.’
    She looked up, her face red, her expression flickering between disbelief and hope. ‘How?’
    ‘I’ll get you out.’
    ‘Time,’ the guard said.
    Jack clung to his daughter’s hands.
    The guard put his hand on Jack’s shoulder. ‘Come on.’
    Jack stroked the side of Elizabeth’s face and then let himself
    be led away. He looked back only once at the small, forlorn figure in the cell. She was just a child. How could they hang a child?

    Two guards took Jack past the parade ground and over to a bungalow with a veranda across the front. A storm of thoughts whirled in Jack’s head and something cold shifted in his stomach. Even now he found it hard to believe Elizabeth was a rebel. But she hadn’t denied it.
    He paused at the bottom of the steps. How could he convince Jhala to free Elizabeth?
    He shut his eyes for a moment, breathed deeply and walked up to a sparse office. Jhala sat behind a desk and Sengar sat nearby in a wicker chair.
    ‘Have a seat.’ Jhala gestured to a chair.
    Jack sat down stiffly. Jhala was his friend – surely he would help. A hundred memories from his army days tumbled through his head. He and Jhala had fought alongside each other many times. There had been a bond between them. That wasn’t something that could easily be broken.
    Jhala gave a deep sigh. ‘I didn’t want this, Jack. You need to understand that. It’s the mutiny – it’s changed everything.’
    ‘Sir.’ Jack’s voice cracked. ‘Elizabeth made a mistake, but she’s sorry. She won’t do anything like that again. I give you my word.’
    Jhala held up his hand. ‘I understand you’re worried about her.’
    ‘She’s just fifteen, sir.’
    ‘I will free her, but first you need to help me.’
    Jack paused. He wanted to beg or shout or plead for Elizabeth, but he held himself back. ‘You want me to track Merton.’
    ‘Yes. I was hoping you would do it of your own accord. Merton’s dishonoured the regiment, all of us.’
    Jack looked down. That was true. But how could Jhala expect him to hunt down his friend?
    Jhala shifted in his seat. ‘I know this isn’t easy. But think of your daughter.’
    Jack pictured Elizabeth in the cell and a flame of anger leapt in his chest. ‘How did you know she was my daughter?’ he said softly.
    ‘When she arrived here she was screaming about her father who used to be in the army. When I saw her surname I talked to her and realised.’
    ‘Look, you have to do your duty,’ Sengar said.
    Jack glared at Sengar. ‘Doesn’t look as though I have much choice.’
    Jhala sighed again, opened the top drawer of his desk, took out an envelope and held it up. ‘This is a pardon for your daughter, signed by the Raja of Poole. It was difficult to get, I can tell you. I had to call in quite a few favours. Now, I know you can find Merton. All I need is for you to lead us to him, and then,’ waving the envelope, ‘your daughter will be free. I give you my word.’
    Jack looked at the yellow envelope. How could he agree to this? ‘I’ll try.’
    Jhala and Sengar exchanged glances.
    ‘You’ll have to do better than trying,’ Sengar said. ‘The pardon states that your daughter will only be freed if you give us Merton. If we don’t catch Merton and bring him back here, dead or alive, the pardon is forfeit. Do you understand?’
    Jack nodded slowly.
    ‘I’ll be travelling with you, with a squadron of cavalry. You will have four weeks to find Merton, otherwise . . .’ Sengar looked over at Jhala.
    ‘Yes, that’s right.’ Jhala cleared his throat. ‘We couldn’t give you an indefinite amount of time. Four weeks should be plenty. But after that, the pardon expires and your daughter