The Khan Saima Mir (best short novels TXT) 📖

person playing their part. Sitting in an armchair by the window, Sanam Khan wiped her tears with her shawl. She was heartbroken at her husband’s death. The thought that she might be mourning her child as well as her husband skirted her mind, and she resolved only to mourn when Benyamin returned home.

‘We must proceed carefully or face financial ruin,’ Bazigh Khan warned. He was not a slow-hardened man; it was the heavy hammer of a single experience that had shaped him, and his words were often blunt. In other families, this was not the time to mention business and money, but they were not like other families, and Jia understood his reasons well. Her uncle was readying himself for war. But the warning sufficed; the rest of that discussion could wait. Today, he would speak of his brother.

‘Akbar Khan was a great man, a good man, one who knew that to steal was more honourable than to spread one’s hands before another,’ he said. ‘He chose to face the wrath of God rather than bow to a master. And on this day, my sister, as he stands before his Lord, no curtain between them and no earthly body, I pray for great mercy on him, as he showed mercy to so many of us.’

It was customary to talk of the dead in this way, to scoop out memories and feast on them for three days, no more, no less. It was how the mourners healed. The coming days would be full of this.

‘We must make preparations for the Janaza and for his afterlife. I have given orders for five hundred poor families to be given flour and meat and provisions across the provinces of our people. I hope you feel it is enough. We can do more if you so wish.’

Sanam Khan nodded without really listening. She was unable to focus on the afterlife of her husband while her son’s earthly life was in the balance.

‘There will be time to mourn my father, Lala,’ Jia said softly but firmly. ‘Right now our concern must be for Benyamin. We don’t know how much time we have. Please tell us again everything you know.’

It was beginning to get light by the time Bazigh Khan finished recounting the night’s events. Unbeknown to him, his brother had sent men to bring news of Benyamin after he failed to show up for the rukhsati.

‘He received a call soon after the wedding,’ Bazigh Khan said. ‘I must have just left. The men had found out that Benyamin was being held by a group called the Brotherhood in the old textile mills.’

The factories had once been the financial backbone of the city, a flourishing industry that had attracted workers from India and Pakistan, feeding their families and changing the course of their lives. Then everything changed. The workers stayed but the work travelled to the countries they had once called home. The mills remained dormant for decades until regeneration projects opened them up again. The Khan had business interests in these buildings and some of his foot soldiers owned apartments there. It wouldn’t have taken long for the information about Benyamin to reach him.

Bazigh Kahn groaned again. ‘I wish I had known what was going on. I would have stopped him going. I could have handled the situation myself.’

‘He would not have listened to you. You know what Baba was like.’

‘You must not think ill of your father, Jia, he was a brave man,’ said Bazigh Khan. ‘We will defend your honour, and when Ben jaan is home and our Khan is buried, we will have vengeance – we will invoke badal. As his eldest child, you are the only one capable of doing what must be done. The law of Pukhtunwali demands it.’

‘This life of ours has already swallowed one of my children – must it take more?’ said Sanam Khan. She was tired and unable to hold it together any longer. The tears came and she wept.

Jia wiped her mother’s eyes. ‘We will find a way to fix this,’ she said.

‘If they were going to kill him, they would have done so by now,’ said Idris, kneeling beside his Sanam Khan. ‘Instead they have moved him – we’ve checked the old mills. He’s not there. They must be hoping to buy some time. Don’t worry, we will bring Ben home. Now, why don’t you go and see if the chai is ready?’ He understood that his aunt needed a task, and feeding her family would give her a sense of purpose. She nodded, kissing his forehead as she left the room.

When she’d gone, Jia took her seat. ‘What do we know about this Brotherhood?’ she asked Idris.

‘Not much,’ he replied. ‘Andrzej Nowak is the head of the group – he’s fairly new in town.’

‘I’ve met him,’ said Jia, with a grimace. ‘I defended his cousin on a drugs charge last year.’

‘They are from across Eastern Europe, but the kids here assume they’re all Polish, hence the name “Brotherhood”. They’ve been here for a few years, making in-roads in a couple of other cities. Some of the kids whose parents came here when our fathers did have joined them. But some of our boys have married their women and so we keep track of things. They’ve not really caused any major trouble until now. Your father asked me to look into their dealings last month. He said they were angling for control, trying to take apart the Jirga and pick its proceeds. He knew they were planning something but I never thought they would be brave enough to kill him, and this soon.’

Jia listened intently to her cousin. Idris was the Khan’s lawyer and chief adviser. He knew everything there was to know about the family business. If the old ways had continued he would have been her husband, and it was widely known that Akbar Khan had hoped his daughter would choose her eldest cousin as a spouse. The arrival of Elyas had ended