The Moghul

nineteen and soon after I left on a campaign. She stayed with my younger brother while I was gone, and when I returned, she was with child. Who can say whether it was mine or his? But none of it matters, for she died in childbirth." He spurred his horse past the line of carts. "Let's try to make the river before sundown."
    Hawksworth couldn't believe what he had heard, and he whipped his mount to catch up.
    "Your brother kept your wife while you were away?"
    "Of course. I don't know how it is here, but in the part of India where I was born, brothers normally share each other's wives. I used to go to my older brother's house when he was gone and visit his wife. She expected it and would have been upset if I hadn't come to her." Vasant Rao was puzzled by Hawksworth's surprise. "Don't brothers share one another's wives in England?"
    "Well, not. . . usually. I mean . . . no. Hell no. It's damned close to incest. The truth is a husband would have grounds to call out a man he caught with his wife. And especially a brother."
    "'Call him out,' Captain? What does that mean?"
    "A duel. With swords. Or maybe pistols."
    Vasant Rao was incredulous.
    "But what if a man goes away on a campaign? His wife will grow frustrated. Hindus believe a woman has seven times the sexual energy of a man. She would start meeting other men in the village if a man didn't have a brother to keep her satisfied. In the village where I grew up, if a man and woman met together by chance in the forest, and they had the same caste, we all assumed they would make the most of the opportunity. So it's better for the honor of the family if your brothers care for your wife. It's an important duty for brothers. And besides, as long as a woman attends to her own husband's needs, what does it matter if his brother enjoys her also?"
    Hawksworth found himself astonished.
    "How does . . . I mean, what about this brother's own wife? What does she think about all this?"
    "If her husband wants to visit his brothers' wives, what should she care? It's normal. She'll also find ways to meet her husband's brothers for the same purpose. Women married to brothers often try to send each other away on errands, in order to enjoy the other's husband. So wives have no reason to complain. In fact, if a woman returns to her own village for a visit, she will probably seek out some of the men she knew when she was young and enjoy them, since her husband is not around and no one in her own village would tell him. Hindus in the villages don't lock away their women the way the Muslims do, Captain Hawksworth. And because they're free to enjoy whoever they wish, they aren't frustrated and unhappy the way Muslim women are. Surely your England is an advanced country where women have the same freedom."
    Hawksworth puzzled for a minute before trying to answer. The truth is there's a big difference between what's said and what's done. With chastity praised from the pulpits and whores the length of London. And highborn ladies thronging the playhouses, ready to cuckold their husbands with any cavalier who'll give them a look. How can I explain it?
    "I guess you'd say upper-class women have the most freedom to take lovers. Usually young gallants or soldiers. And no one is surprised if her husband makes full use of his serving wench."
    "Are these soldiers and serving women from a lower caste?"
    "Well, we don't exactly have . . ." Hawksworth paused for a moment. "Actually I guess you could say they're a lower 'caste,' in a way."
    Vasant reined in his mount and inspected Hawksworth for a moment in disgust.
    "Please excuse me if I say yours must be a very immoral country. Captain. Such a thing would never happen in India. No Rajput would touch the body of a low caste. It would be pollution."
    "You don't care what your women do? All that matters is who they do it with?" Hawksworth suddenly realized he found it all too absurd to believe. It sounds like another tale of the Indies. Concocted to entertain credulous seamen. "All right, then, what about your own wife? Did she have other men besides your brothers?"
    "How would I know?" Vasant Rao waved his hand, dismissing the question as insignificant. "I suppose it's possible. But after she died I decided I'd had enough of wives and women. I took a vow of chastity. There's the legend of a god named Hanumanji, who took on the flesh of a monkey and who gained insuperable strength by retaining his semen. It made him invulnerable." Vasant Rao smiled. "So far