"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 it's worked for me as well. But to protect the charm, I eat no meat and drink a glass of opium each day." The Rajput suddenly spurred his mount toward the head of the caravan. The sun had disappeared behind a heavy bank of storm clouds in the west, and the road had already begun to darken. The river was probably still another hour away, perhaps two hours. Hawksworth studied Vasant Rao's tall, commanding form, sitting erect and easy in the saddle.