“The answer is yes—but—”
“Then I understand that you undertake to obey my orders without question until such time as a senior to me can be found to take over the command.”
“That is contingent on the agreement,” hesitated Alwa.
“I would like your word of honor, Alwa-sahib.”
“I pledge that not lightly, sahib.”
“For that very good reason I am asking for it. I shall know how far to trust when I have your word of honor!”
“I knew thy father! Thou art his son! I trusted him for good reason and with good result. I will trust thee also. My word is given, on thy conditions, sahib. First, the guarantees before we ride to the British aid!”
And you obey my orders?
“Yes. My word is given, sahib. The oath of a Rajput, of a Rangar, of a soldier, of a zemindar of the House of Kachwaha; the oath of a man to a man, sahib; the promise of thy father's friend to thy father's son! Bahadur”—he drew himself to his full height, and clicked his spurs together—“I am thy servant!”
Cunningham saluted. All three men looked in each other's eyes and a bond was sealed between them that nothing less than death could sever.