Sword of Empire

by Christopher Nicole

  She looked over his shoulder at his men. There were at least a hundred of them, armed to the teeth; none of them had she ever seen before. But one of them carried Sivitraj. The little boy was too excited at this sudden adventure to be afraid.

  ‘Sivitraj!’ she said.

  ‘He is safe. He is our Rajah, is he not?’

  ‘I do not understand,’ she said.

  ‘You will understand,’ he said. ‘When it is time.’

  *

  They rode for three hours, then Batraj called a halt. By now they were in the hills to the north of the city.

  They stopped by a stream. It was all done with military precision. Sentries climbed to the higher ground, the horses were hobbled, a fire lit, and within five minutes a delicious spicy smell filled the air. Flat loaves of unleavened bread were put to roast on stones by the fire.

  Sivitraj was brought to her and one of the horsemen brought her a bowl of mare’s milk, known as kumiss for him.

  ‘It will make him sick,’ she protested.

  ‘He will get used to it.’ Batraj had brought her a bowl of water, and sat down beside her.

  ‘What do you want?’ she asked, half-fearfully.

  Batraj grinned. ‘Are you not glad to be alive and free, and to have your son in your arms?’

  ‘Of course I am. I am most deeply grateful to you. But I do not understand why you have done it. Surely...’ she bit her lip.

  ‘Surely with you dead, I would have been in a position to dominate Sittapore? You do not know my aunt. It is that little boy she will wish to see on the throne. She is a great believer in legitimacy, and she hated my father. She hates me. With you dead, she would have declared herself regent. And I...I would have been nothing.’

  Laura had been trying to get Sivitraj to drink some of the milk, not very successfully; the baby kept blowing bubbles. At least he was not apparently hungry. Now she hugged him closer. ‘Then you mean to harm my son?’

  ‘I hope that will not be necessary.’

  She felt her stomach muscles begin to tighten. She had not, after all, been rescued.

  ‘You would disrupt the entire jaghir, to obtain me?’ she asked in a low voice.

  ‘Are you not worth it?’

  She said nothing, and only held the baby tighter.

  ‘I could of course take you by force,’ Batraj pointed out. ‘There are men enough who would willingly hold you down. But I would rather have a partnership. You are Dowager-Rani of Sittapore. No matter that those fools, inspired by my aunt, I may say, sought to burn you on my cousin’s pyre. All India knows that Sitraj had outlawed suttee. They will accept the fact of your rescue, and honour me for it.’

  ‘Then could you not just have ridden in there with your men, and put a stop to it?’ she asked.

  ‘One hundred against an incited mob of several thousand? Even with the aid of your gallant platoon of Company redcoats?’ He grinned. ‘Had I received sufficient warning of what was happening, I might have attempted such a coup d’etat. But I only heard of Sitraj’s death two days ago, and I had no time to prepare more than this. In any event, this is better. We will remain in the hills until the furore has died down. Meanwhile my agents will be sniffing out people in Sittapore who are sympathetic to me, suborning them in my favour. When the time is right, we will return, clandestinely, enter the city by night, seize the palace and the person of my aunt, and proclaim the new Rajah.’

  ‘With you as regent?’

  Batraj grinned. ‘No, no. It must all he very proper. Or the Company may be angry and send an army. You will be regent, Highness. I shall merely be your husband.’

  She gasped at his effrontery. But for the time being it was necessary to stay calm, in order to stay alive. ‘But my son will be Rajah?’ she asked insistently.

  ‘That is entirely up to you, Highness. Or may I call you Laura?’

  She inhaled, slowly. She said nothing, in order to give herself time.

  ‘I will be good to you,’ he said. ‘This I swear. 1 have wanted you from the moment I saw you. I have worshipped you. My lingam calls upon me to possess your yoni every time I see you.’

  Once again she was left breathless at his crudeness.

  ‘And I have risked a great deal for you,’ he went on. ‘I have saved your life. By all the laws of history you belong to me. I will have you, Laura. But if you will have me equally, are there any heights we may not climb together?’

  ‘You must give me time to consider your proposal,’ she said. ‘I will give you my answer after we have returned to Sittapore.’

  ‘You will give me your answer now, this minute, Laura.’ He smiled. ‘And then you may consider my proposal, until we have reached our destination.’

  Laura fought to keep herself from exploding in outrage and anger, and despair. She was absolutely helpless. He would have her but it might still be possible that he would have her only on her terms. She had never been afraid to look facts in the face before. The only thing she must not become now, was afraid.

  ‘If I surrender to you,’ she said. ‘Will my son be Rajah?’

  ‘He shall.’

  ‘Do you swear to this, by the wrath of Shiva and Vishnu?’

  ‘I swear it.’

  Laura drew a long breath. ‘Then I accept.’

  ‘You are a sensible woman.’ He stood up. ‘The Rani is mine,’ he shouted.

  His men cheered, and Laura felt her cheeks scorching with embarrassment.

  ‘Now let us make haste,’ Batraj said.

  *

  They finished their meal, mounted, and rode again. Laura was given a horse of her own, and rode next to the man carrying Sivitraj. She would have liked to be able to hold the boy herself, but was simply not a good enough horsewoman; there was no side-saddle, and this was the first time she had ever ridden astride.

  She felt a jumbled mixture of emotions. She had just consented to go to Batraj’s bed! All for the sake of her little baby son, who kept smiling at her.

  She had turned her back forever on her own people. Her business was survival, for herself and for Sivitraj, until they regained Sittapore, and she could make contact with Bombay.

  Remember, Elphinstone had told her, that we are your friends, always. Call on us when you need us. She would do that. And then Batraj might proclaim to the world that she was his wife; she would tell the world differently!

  Survival. She almost looked forward to the challenge.

  *

  They rode all afternoon, and by the time Batraj called a halt Laura was exhausted. She feared that he would now seek to possess her, but he did not; a tent was erected for her and she was allowed to sleep with Sivitraj in her arms.

  Perhaps he was not going to be so difficult after all.

  Next morning they resumed their journey, climbing high into the hills, a place of sudden defiles and precipices; Laura was in mortal fear for Sivitraj, but Batraj’s horses were as sure-footed as goats.

  ‘This is my land,’ he told her. ‘All the rest is but an empty show.’

  He laughed and joked with his people, and with her, all the time; he was enjoying his triumph.

  In the middle of the afternoon they suddenly came upon a village. About a hundred people, men, women, and children, with their dogs, all crowded forward to greet the Prince.

  The houses themselves were poor, as in most Indian hill villages, but there was a flock of goats, and a bubbling stream, and a communal fire blazing in the centre.

  ‘I am afraid life in the hill country is primitive,’ Batraj said as he lifted her down. ‘But it is a good life.’

  ‘Are we still in Sittapore?’ she asked.

  ‘Certainly. But we are close to the borders of the next jaghir. Up here we are safe. Only a madman would seek to find us in these mountains, which we know so much better than anyone else.’ He took her hand. ‘Now come.’

  She looked down at herself, all dusty and dirty. She had been hoping for a further respite. ‘Can I not bathe first?’

  He gr
inned. ‘I wish you the way you are, smelling of sweat rather than perfume. I am not like my cousin.’

  Laura swallowed. But she had agreed, and she was still in his power. ‘Where?’

  He pointed to the largest hut. ‘That is my house. Our house.’

  ‘What of the Rajah?’

  ‘He will be cared for by the women.’ Batraj turned to them. ‘I give you — your Rajah!’ He held Sivitraj high, and the baby crowed happily. Batraj handed the boy to a waiting woman. ‘And now I take possession of the Dowager-Rani, in the name of the great goddess.’

  The men and women shouted their approbation.

  ‘Is it necessary to humiliate me?’ Laura hissed.

  ‘Should a man and a woman be ashamed of coupling?’ Batraj inquired. ‘Come.’

  Laura followed him to the hut, hesitated at the doorway. It was dark in there, and smelt unwholesome.

  ‘Come!’ His voice echoed out of the gloom.

  Laura hesitated still. She had no real idea what was going to happen to her. Sitraj had been so gentle; there was nothing gentle about Batraj.

  She looked back at the men and women gathered behind her. They were all watching her. She was in the midst of a den of wolves; if anything were to happen to Batraj she would be at their mercy.

  ‘Come!’ Batraj said again, more peremptorily.

  Laura went into the hut.

  The light was poor, but after a few seconds Laura found she could see, and hugged herself in dismay, for Batraj had already stripped, and was more than ready for her. Never had she seen anything so huge and menacing.

  ‘He is impatient,’ Batraj grinned. ‘Let me look upon you.’

  Laura knelt, and took off her sari. Batraj had already spread blankets on the ground. When she would have sat down, he stopped her.

  ‘Stay like that,’ he commanded, and knelt against her. She shuddered as he began to explore her, not brutally — indeed his hands were surprisingly gentle — but with slow and complete thoroughness, almost as if he were a blind child discovering a new toy with his fingers.

  ‘I have watched you, and dreamed of you, and desired you, for two years,’ he said. ‘These breasts, they are divine. These buttocks, they are perfection. This hair...can there be an equal of it in the world?’

  The terrifying thing was that he was beginning to excite her in turn, where she wanted only to hate him, reject him, suffer him in pain and anger.

  ‘I could play with you all day,’ he said. ‘But my lingam grows impatient. Why, he has been impatient for two years. And now your yoni is impatient too. Come to me.’

  He sat down with his legs folded, and drew her forward on to his lap. Her knees were parted, and he made her sit on him. She felt him enter her, deeper than she had ever been entered before.

  ‘Scream,’ he commanded her. ‘Scream your ecstasy.’

  Laura screamed.

  *

  When he let her go, she collapsed in a heap. She was afraid to think. Sitraj had never made her feel so much, had never made herself so aware of herself as a woman. Nor could she imagine Guy Bartlett even approaching such sexual splendour.

  Was this then the man she was destined to love? She could not believe it, did not wish to believe it.

  But supposing they did manage to regain Sittapore, and place Sivitraj on the throne, with Batraj and herself as joint regents...heady thoughts filled her mind. Lascivious thoughts too, of endless hours with Batraj.

  His hand stroked her shoulder, and she turned her head. He could not possibly be ready again so soon.

  ‘You are everything I hoped for,’ he told her. His hand slipped up her shoulder to her neck, and caressed her throat. ‘And to think that my first desire, when Sitraj brought you home, was to wrap my rumal around this neck, and tighten it slowly, and watch your eyes start from your head and your tongue loll out as you died.’

  Laura rolled on her back, lazily.

  ‘Did you hate me that much? For marrying your cousin? Or because I was a Christian?’

  ‘I did not hate you at all, Laura,’ Batraj said. ‘I merely thought what a magnificent offering you would make to Kali, my goddess. A far more splendid offering than your aged uncle.’

  Sittapore, 8 January 1828

  I feel myself to be a failure, a mass of uncertainties, the most miserable fellow in the universe. Yet, I am at the same time excited beyond measure. For I am about to go to war, and on behalf of the most beautiful woman in the world.

  Oh, cruel fate! I had believed that my every dream had come true. I was chosen to represent the Company at the funeral of the Rajah of Sittapore. There was of course more to this than met the eye; the Governor wished to have a representative to keep an eye on the situation, and ensure that the infant Rajah was duly proclaimed the rightful king.

  For this purpose he chose me! I was the happiest man in the world.

  Elphinstone could as well have sent an ass. Well, he did send an ass.

  Laura was not very pleased to see me. I suspect she was afraid of compromising herself before her servants. But I was content. And the night before Christmas Eve, she entertained me to supper, tete-a-tete apart from a few dozen servants.

  What is more, she did so again when we arrived in this place Sittapore, where she seems to have lived in splendour which quite puts the Brighton Pavilion to shame.

  Contemplating her beauty, I was quite bewitched. I was already aware that her return had not been as satisfactory as she might have hoped. Her relatives are a grim-faced lot, her people even more so. She claims they love her, but I saw no evidence of it.

  I now know that, no matter how hard she protested, I should have seized her there and then and carried her out of the city, while sending post-haste for reinforcements. I did send for reinforcements, but foolishly left her in the grandeur of her palace, and apparently in power.

  Disaster befell the next day, the day of Sitraj’s funeral. There is a dreadful custom amongst the Hindus, called suttee, which requires that a man’s widow be burned upon his funeral pyre. Burned alive! My readers will ask why Miss Dean, or her parents, did not take this into consideration before her marriage. The answer is that they did, and a solemn marriage contract was drawn up specifically excluding Miss Dean from any Hindu religious obligations.

  But the man who signed the contract was dead! This was a sad oversight on our part. The result was that Miss Dean was seized, most shamefully manhandled, and tied beside her husband’s rotting corpse to be consumed by the flames.

  And what was I doing the while? Endeavouring to reach her, of course. The situation was desperate, flames and smoke already rising from the pyre, when we were surprised by a cavalry charge, and in the twinkling of an eye Laura and her baby son had been removed, and carried away to the hills.

  But she had not been rescued, merely kidnapped, by a dastardly scoundrel named Batraj, a cousin of the dead Rajah and from all accounts a lecherous lout.

  Worse, the older Dowager-Rani, a hard-faced hag named Bilkis, tells me that this Batraj is actually a Thug. The Bilkis woman preferred not to go into details about it, but says she has her suspicions, even that Batraj may have been responsible for the murder of Harrison Dean, and for other incidents over the past two years.

  And Laura is in his power! For all I know, she may already be lying dead, a knotted cord around her throat. Certain it is that she is his plaything. The gossip in the Presidency leads me to believe that Hindu methods of coupling are indecent and unChristian.

  When I think of Laura being subjected to such horrors my blood boils. The only saving grace is that presumably she suffered as much at the hands of her husband, and seems to have survived.

  Naturally I wished to go after them at once. I was dissuaded from this course by both the dreadful Bilkis female, and my own havildar. Of course they had commonsense on their side; how could ten foot soldiers mounted on mules hope to catch a hundred horsemen? And suppose we did catch them: what could ten do against a hundred, every man armed to the teeth and a professio
nal assassin?

  I thus submitted. But I cannot feel I acted the hero in any way.

  However, at last I am to be given an opportunity to redeem myself. Yesterday, after a forced march, Colonel Partridge arrived with the regiment, mounted on mules and looking very fierce. Having reported the situation to him, I then sought permission to seek out this Batraj fellow with a sufficient force to deal with him, and at the same time rescue the Dowager-Rani and the young Rajah. The Colonel demurred at first. I’m afraid he regards Laura with some disapproval, and holds the opinion that as she has undoubtedly already been forced by Batraj, she is hardly worth rescuing.

  However, I pressed the point that Batraj is the leader of a Thug gang, and a most wanted man. I also reminded him, respectfully, that his orders from Governor Elphinstone were not only to restore law and order in Sittapore but also to make sure that the rightful ruler is established on the throne, and that this can only be done by capturing Batraj.

  The Colonel is now in a state of some perplexity, following a conversation with the hag Bilkis, as to what Batraj’s future intentions might be. My own desire was to place the wretched woman under arrest, as she has freely admitted that it was her decision to burn Laura beside her son. This she claims is Hindu law, and she despises her son for having agreed to change it.

  Colonel Partridge will not arrest her; he feels she is the only person capable of governing Sittapore at the moment. Possibly he is right. But there are deeper reasons, I have no doubt. The Colonel is an unromantic fellow, and cannot conceive that anyone would overturn an important religious ceremony merely for the sake of a woman. Bilkis agrees with him in this, and is certain that Batraj means to return to Sittapore and set himself on the throne at the appropriate time, using the little Rajah to accomplish this. Obviously the best and quickest way to deal with this is to lay hands on the fellow.

  Thus tomorrow I set forth at the head of a full company of the regiment, eighty strong. Jefferson will accompany me. We shall be mounted on mules, and will have natives to guide us into the hill country, where everyone is certain Batraj is to be found.