THE GENERALS

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THE GENERALS Page 31

by Simon Scarrow


  ‘Quite,’ Richard agreed.

  Arthur was not so sure, and he sat down for a moment to reflect on the news before he responded. ‘It’s clear that the French aim to establish some kind of base of operations in Mysore, but there’s no chance of capitalising on it for a while at least.’

  ‘Explain yourself,’ Richard said curtly.

  ‘As far as we know, the French have no significant land forces in the Indian Ocean at the moment. True?’

  Henry nodded.

  ‘And if France is intending to send an army out to India then why announce it so publicly? Why give us so much warning? It doesn’t make sense.’

  Richard frowned and tapped the proclamation.‘So what is the meaning of this? What are they up to?’

  ‘It seems to me that the Governor of Mauritius is trying to encourage Tipoo to make war on us. It won’t cost France much more than encouraging words and a handful of supplies and advisers. If Tipoo wins the day then France can share in the spoils. If Tipoo is defeated then the French can at least hope that he has inflicted enough damage on us to significantly undermine our reputation.’

  Richard smiled. ‘Ah yes, it’s that question of iqbal again.’

  ‘Precisely. If our prestige is undermined it might be a long time before we win back the respect of the natives. Long enough at least for the French to gather forces to intervene more decisively.’

  ‘I see.’ Richard crossed to the window and gazed out across the ramparts towards Calcutta and the Hoogley river. ‘Arthur, are we ready for a war against Tipoo?’

  ‘No. And we won’t be for some months yet. Our forces are too widely dispersed and we would need time to amass the necessary equipment and supplies to support an army.’

  ‘When is the earliest that we could be ready to fight?’ asked Henry.

  ‘Not until next year. Spring, I’d say.’

  ‘Spring . . .’ Richard sighed and turned away from the window. ‘In the meantime, I think we should move some forces closer to Mysore to show him that we will defend what’s ours.’

  ‘That would be wise.’

  Richard sat down. ‘Now then, to relieve the atmosphere of some of its gloom, I have some good news to relate. Concerning the Nizam.’

  ‘Oh?’

  ‘He has agreed terms for a treaty. I’ve persuaded him that a new alliance with England would be in his best interest. In exchange for removing his French officers the Nizam will permit us to increase the number of Company battalions at Hyderabad to six. More than enough to make him comfortable.’

  Arthur raised his eyebrows. ‘This is the first I’ve heard of any treaty.’

  ‘Of course it is,’ said Henry. ‘It’s still a secret. If word of it got out the Nizam’s life would be in danger. Besides, he has yet to sign the treaty.’

  Richard wagged a finger at Arthur. ‘The moment the treaty’s concluded I want our men in Hyderabad, and those French officers out. Do you think you can handle the task?’

  ‘Me?’ Arthur was surprised at the question.There were several officers senior to him who could easily have been offered the job.

  ‘Why me?’

  ‘Because you are my brother. I can trust you to keep your lip buttoned. Besides, you need a chance to prove your mettle. It was unfortunate that you were not given command of the Manila expedition, and doubly unfortunate that it was recalled before you had the opportunity to demonstrate your command skills. This time there will be no recall, and if you pull this off then no one can doubt my wisdom in choosing you for other commands in India. Do you understand, Arthur?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Then don’t let me down.’

  Arthur left the four Company battalions to make camp for the night and rode on to Hyderabad.The treaty with the Nizam had finally been signed and the ruler of Hyderabad was well aware of the approach of the Company reinforcements, even if many of his courtiers and palace officials were not. Before the new-comers entered the city, it was vital that Arthur find out what was waiting for them. Kirkpatrick had sent a trusted agent to meet the advancing column and guide Arthur to the residency without attracting any unwelcome attention. The agent was a hircarrah, a member of an old guild employed in India to carry messages and act as scouts or spies. As they rode up towards the crest of a low hill in the fading light the agent raised his hand to halt Arthur.

  ‘We must go most carefully from here, sahib.’

  ‘How far are we from the residency?’

  ‘Not so far, sahib. I know a safe route. Trust me.’

  Arthur stared at the man in the gathering gloom, but the face was old and impassive and did not betray the slightest hint of what the hircarrah was thinking. There was nothing for it but to trust the man. It was possible that Arthur was being led into a trap, but he was well aware of the guild’s reputation for fair dealing. The scout would have been paid by Kirkpatrick, and would stick to the bargain.

  ‘Very well.’ Arthur nodded. ‘Let’s go.’

  They rode over the crest of the hill and Arthur saw the city of Hyderabad sprawling across the plain below him: a dark mass of buildings and minarets, illuminated here and there by the twinkling of small flames that cast a faint loom about them. The guide led Arthur down the far slope into a dried river bed that looped across the ground towards the city, and their horses’ hooves scraped on the gravel loudly enough to make Arthur wince and glance anxiously into the surrounding shadows to see if they had been detected. But there was only the occasional crack and rustle from the undergrowth betraying the movement of small creatures. Eventually the banks of the river bed levelled out a little as they approached the city outskirts.The air was filled with the braying of goats and deeper bellows of cattle in wicker pens stretching out on either side. The sharp tang of their odour was mixed with the rich earthy smell of manure and Arthur instinctively wrinkled his nose as they rode on, a safe distance from the dark buildings from which the sing-song voices of their inhabitants occasionally sounded.

  Then ahead of them Arthur saw a cluster of larger buildings outside the city and the scout clicked his tongue and pointed at them to indicate they were nearing their destination. He led Arthur to the largest of the houses, a single-storey dwelling surrounded by a wide, colonnaded veranda. A torch burned over the main entrance and, from within, faint slivers of light outlined the shutters closed across the windows. They made for the small cluster of stables and store sheds behind the bungalow and the scout called out softly towards the shadows. At once two men emerged and padded across to the horses to take the reins as Arthur and the scout dismounted. A door opened on to the veranda and a figure emerged.

  ‘Colonel Wellesley?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘This way please, sir.’The figure beckoned to them and Arthur and the scout climbed the steps to the veranda.Arthur could now vaguely make out the features of the man in the doorway. He was a young man, perhaps the same age as Arthur, with closely cropped hair and a solid build. He turned to Arthur’s guide and muttered to him in Hindoostani to wait outside.

  Arthur cleared his throat. ‘Captain Kirkpatrick?’

  ‘Yes, sir. Please come inside. The others are waiting for you.’

  Once Arthur had entered the house, Kirkpatrick closed the door behind him and picked up a small lamp on a side table, then led him down the corridor to where it opened out on to a formal reception room. Two men were sitting at a small table, lit by another lamp. Above them a punkah hung lifelessly and the air inside the room was still and stifling. The men stood up at the sound of approaching footsteps.

  ‘Gentlemen, this is Colonel Wellesley.’ Kirkpatrick spoke softly as if he feared that they might be overheard. ‘Sir, may I introduce you to colonels Dalrymple and Malcolm, commanders of the two Company battalions stationed in Hyderabad.’

  ‘Good evening, gentlemen.’ Arthur shook their hands in turn and then eased himself down into one of the seats. ‘I trust everything has been prepared for the arrival of the reinforcements tomorrow morning.’


  There was a short silence while the other officers glanced at each other. Then Malcolm spoke. ‘We have something of a problem, sir.’

  ‘Problem? What kind of problem?’

  ‘It’s the Nizam, sir. I spoke to him this afternoon, as soon as we got word of your approach from the scout. He’s decided that he does not want to disband the units commanded by French officers - not immediately, at least. It seems that word of the new treaty has got out and the officers and men are saying that he has betrayed them.’

  ‘Which, of course, he has,’ Arthur said acidly. ‘That was the whole point of the treaty. If he backs down now the Governor General will be furious. Did you explain that to him?’

  ‘I did, sir.Volubly.’

  Arthur breathed deeply and exhaled to ease his tension.‘And?’

  ‘The Nizam was courteous enough, sir, and expressed his loyalty to his English allies at some length. But he said that it would be too great a risk to disband the French battalions without any warning. However, now that they are aware of his plans he says they are threatening to overthrow him and kick the Company battalions, and the resident, out of Hyderabad.’

  ‘Damn,’ Arthur muttered. ‘Damn the man. If his nerve fails now, then we face disaster. At the very least there’ll be many lives lost if we have to disband those French units by force. If it goes badly for us we will have to fight our way out.’

  ‘It’s not all bad news, sir,’ said Kirkpatrick. ‘The other battalions in the Nizam’s army are still loyal to him. They’re not as numerous as the French-officered units, nor as well trained and equipped, but they’ll not lift a finger to help any attempt to displace the Nizam. In fact, there’s not much love lost between the native and the French officers.’

  ‘That’s something.’ Arthur conceded. ‘But it’s vital that the Nizam himself gives the order for the units to disband. If he doesn’t and we are forced to do the job, it can only cause considerable ill will amongst the Nizam’s people.’

  Kirkpatrick glanced at the other officers and then nodded. ‘That’s our fear, sir.’

  ‘Then we must confront the Nizam again. Can you take me to him tonight?’

  ‘It’s dark, sir. He’ll have retired to his private quarters by now.’

  ‘Perfect. Then there’s less chance of anyone seeing us.’

  Kirkpatrick pursed his lips. ‘I suppose we can give it a try, sir.’

  ‘We have to, if we’re going to prevent any bloodshed.’ Arthur stood up.‘Let’s go, then.You and me. Dalrymple and Malcolm can return to their commands.’ Arthur turned to the two Company officers. ‘Have your men fed, armed and ready to move as soon as I give the order. Understood?’

  ‘Yes, sir.’

  ‘Then I’ll bid you good night, gentlemen. I’m sure I’ll see you again tomorrow.’ He turned back to Captain Kirkpatrick. ‘It’s time to beard the Nizam in his den.’

  ‘Tonight? Now?’The Nizam’s chamberlain shook his head. ‘I am sorry, sahib, it is not possible. The Nizam—’

  ‘Then make it possible,’ Arthur said firmly. ‘At once.’

  The chamberlain glanced anxiously over his shoulder at the imposing entrance to the Nizam’s private quarters. He turned back to the two English officers and raised his hands imploringly. ‘The Nizam is entertaining guests. He would not be pleased to be interrupted, sahib. It would not go well with me if I dared to disturb him.’

  ‘It will not go well for you, or the Nizam, if you don’t. I have ridden here on the orders of the Governor General to speak with the Nizam on a matter of the utmost importance.’ Arthur softened his tone and smiled. ‘Now then, I am sure that you would not want the Nizam to hold you accountable for any offence caused to the most powerful Englishman in India.’

  The chamberlain squirmed for a moment and clasped his hands to his forehead. ‘Ayoo . . .’

  ‘Do as we ask,’ Arthur insisted. ‘Many lives hang in the balance.’

  The chamberlain lowered his hands and stared at Arthur for a moment and then slumped his shoulders and nodded. ‘Very well, sahib. Come with me.’

  They followed him towards the double doors and the two guards standing on either side watched warily as the English officers approached. The chamberlain clapped his hands and called out an order. At once the guards grasped the heavy brass handles and pulled open the great slabs of intricately carved and painted wood. Beyond was a wide corridor and from the far end came the nasal notes of native music. There were voices too, men’s and women’s: high spirited and punctuated with bursts of laughter and joyful shouting.

  ‘What kind of entertainment is the Nazim enjoying tonight?’ asked Arthur.

  ‘The usual, sahib. Our ruler is a man of the people, if you take my meaning.That is why I do not think it wise to interrupt him.’ The chamberlain paused and looked at Arthur hopefully. ‘Sahib, I really do think it might be best if we didn’t. I could arrange a meeting tomorrow morning.’

  ‘Tonight.’ Arthur steered the chamberlain towards the end of the corridor. ‘I cannot wait until morning. Keep moving.’

  The trio reached the end of the corridor and emerged into a garden courtyard. Through a thin screen of trees they could see the flickering glint of torches and Arthur led the way along a tiled path towards the voices of the Nizam and his companions. As they emerged into the lighted area at the heart of the courtyard Arthur sucked in his breath and muttered, ‘Upon my soul . . .’

  A dozen dancing girls were swaying to the music played by four men in a small arbour to one side of the open space. The dancing girls were clad only in flimsy loincloths and the flames of the torches glimmered off their bangles and earrings. In front of them, in a semicircle, a group of men sat on low couches and watched the dancers with fixed expressions. In the middle was a couch decorated in gold leaf and studded with jewels.The couch was set on a raised dais and squatting on its richly embroidered cushions was an old man in a loose robe that hung open to reveal a round stomach covered in grey hair. Nestled against his thigh was another young girl, as scantily clad as the dancers, and the man absent-mindedly kneaded one of her breasts as he watched the performance in front of him.

  Arthur drew himself up to his full height and nodded to Kirkpatrick, and they marched into the loom of the light cast by the torches. The musicians stopped playing and the dancers ceased their sinuous movement as everyone turned towards the sharp rap of boots crossing the polished tiles of the Nizam’s private pleasure garden. The old man seated on the dais, who Arthur realised must be the Nizam, released the girl’s breast and rose to his feet with a shocked expression. As soon as he caught sight of his chamberlain, his expression became angry and he bellowed at the hapless official. Arthur and Kirkpatrick stopped a short distance in front of him and gave a stiff, formal bow.

  ‘Captain Kirkpatrick,’ said Arthur.

  ‘Sir?’

  ‘You speak the language far better than me, so you can translate what I have to say. Tell the Nizam I wish to speak to him alone.’

  As the old man listened to Kirkpatrick his eyes widened in outrage and he snapped something back, clenching his fist and waving it at the two Englishmen.

  ‘He says, how dare we enter his private quarters, and issue such an outrageous order. He says his chamberlain is a mangy son of a whore who deserves to be torn in two for letting two infidels enter the gardens of his master.’

  Arthur ignored the quaking chamberlain, who had dropped to his knees and buried his head in his hands as he muttered a string of appeals for mercy.

  ‘Tell him to dismiss these people. We must speak to him at once.’

  Again the Nizam shouted and blustered, until Arthur sharply held up a hand to silence him. The Nizam shrank back from the sudden gesture before recovering his poise, folding his arms and glaring back defiantly. His guests, the dancers and the musicians watched in silence, hardly daring to move.

  ‘Tell him that he must do as I say, and that I speak on the direct authority of the Governor General. If he refuses, then the treaty
with England is forfeit . . .’

  As Kirkpatrick translated the Nizam stared at Arthur, his lips compressed into a thin line.Then there was silence and at last the Nizam’s gaze faltered. He swung round to his followers and shouted an instruction, clapping his hands to send them away as speedily as possible.The guests scrambled up from their cushions and joined the dancers and the musicians as they stumbled through the trees towards the entrance to the Nizam’s garden. As the last sounds of their departure faded away Arthur gestured towards the couches closest to the Nizam dais.

  ‘Ask him if we might sit at his side.’

 

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