Sword of Empire

by Christopher Nicole

  *

  Torches were applied to the houses and the factory, once everything of value had been removed, and the Thugs rode back to the hills with huge clouds of smoke billowing behind them.

  The little boy was carried across the saddle of one of the Thugs, but to Laura’s relief there was no attempt to ill-treat him.

  When they regained the hill village Laura was amazed to discover a large number of people waiting for them, several hundred men and quite a few women.

  ‘My people have been at work,’ Batraj said. ‘These have left Sittapore to be with me.’

  Laura saw with consternation that quite a few of the men wore the yellow jackets and blue breeches of the Sittapore army.

  She was allowed to dismount, and immediately went in search of her son, and found him in the arms of Miljah.

  ‘Miljah!’ she cried, and hugged both the slave and the boy together, to Miljah’s embarrassment. ‘What are you doing here?’

  ‘Are you not my mistress?’ Miljah asked.

  ‘But...what is happening in Sittapore?’

  ‘Sittapore is an unhappy place, mistress. Brother is divided against brother over Prince Batraj’s actions.’

  Batraj had known this would happen.

  ‘But who rules?’

  ‘I do not think anyone rules at this moment, mistress. There is much confusion.’

  ‘And Lieutenant Bartlett and his people?’

  ‘There was much confusion there too, mistress. First it was said he would leave in pursuit, then he did not. Then a Company regiment came, but after spending a day in the city, they went away again.’

  Laura sighed. Even Guy had abandoned her.

  ‘Oh, Miljah,’ she said. ‘I am so happy to have you with me. I am in such trouble.’

  ‘We are all in much trouble,’ Miljah said, refraining from pointing out she had virtually prophesied disaster were Laura to return to Sittapore.

  ‘But you will stay with me,’ Laura begged.

  ‘I am your servant, mistress,’ Miljah said simply. ‘I was given to you by Rajah Sitraj. It is my fate to share yours.’

  Laura wept.

  *

  That night there was a great celebration, and the captured girls were parcelled out amongst the men. The women already in the camp, almost certainly gained in the same fashion, seemed quite resigned to sharing their favours. Perhaps they were glad of it, Laura thought; she would cheerfully have shared Batraj with any other woman.

  But she knew something horribly sinister was about to happen, and sat with screaming nerves while the celebrations continued.

  She observed several of the new arrivals spending some time talking with Batraj. He listened impassively to what they had to say, and then nodded and dismissed them. Then he sat by himself for a while, thinking, before getting up and calling a halt to the proceedings.

  ‘It is time,’ he said, ‘for my wife to join us. Hitherto she has done no more than witness our achievements. Now she will become an initiate into the cult of Kali.’

  Laura gulped, and swallowed. She felt sick.

  A statue of the goddess herself was brought from one of the houses. It was even more hideous than the one in the palace at Sittapore.

  The statue was placed upon the ground, and the entire camp knelt before it to pray. Laura did not understand what they were saying, but she thought it best to kneel with them, Sivitraj in her arms. The little captive boy was close beside her. He had been fed and, to her disgust, given bhang to chew, and he clearly did not have any idea where he was.

  Batraj stood in front of the statue, his arms folded. ‘Bring the sacrifice,’ he commanded.

  Laura immediately threw her arm round the boy. But she could not protect him and he was torn from her grasp and dragged forward. He seemed to think the whole thing was a game.

  ‘Now bring forward the initiate,’ Batraj commanded.

  Miljah held out her arms for Sivitraj. Laura hesitated, but she knew she could not resist them. She gave the woman the little boy, and stood up; two men waited to take her arms. Apparently this was part of the ceremony, whether she was willing to go or not.

  They marched her forward until she stood in front of Batraj, then they took the sari from her head and shoulders, and also removed her blouse, so that she was naked from the waist up. She shivered in the cool breeze coming down from the hills, but she no longer felt ashamed to be exposed to them; they knew all of her secrets now.

  Batraj drew the knife from his waistband, and held it out. ‘Take this,’ he said. ‘And come to Kali.’

  Laura, scarcely believing what was expected of her, took the knife. Then she saw the little boy being presented to her.

  ‘Cut his throat, Highness,’ said the man beside her. And bathe in his blood.’

  Laura’s head jerked. ‘No,’ she said.

  ‘It is the will of Kali,’ Batraj told her.

  ‘No!’ Laura shouted. ‘No! Kill me. Kill my son. I will not commit murder for you!’

  Batraj glared at her, but realised that he had perhaps pushed her too far. He snatched the knife away from her, and cut the boy’s throat himself. Laura wanted to faint, but was held upright as blood was smeared on her face and shoulders, her breasts and stomach. Then she was violently sick, but the ceremony continued for some time, with prayers and incantations. Even then she was not allowed to wash the blood away, but had to sleep in it, and accept Batraj in it too.

  It was next morning before she was permitted to go to the stream, and wash the blood away, while Miljah waited with her sari.

  ‘Now you are one of us,’ Batraj told her.

  ‘I will never be one of you,’ she replied, dressing herself.

  ‘I think you will. Come with me.’

  He led her to her horse. They mounted and rode away from the village, following the course of the valley and the stream until they were out of sight of the other people. She supposed he wanted to rape her again, in some private place, but instead he walked his horse out of the valley, and followed a maze of trails between the hills which he obviously knew well.

  They must have ridden for two hours, and she was becoming exhausted — she had had very little sleep over the past few days — when at last he held up his hand and dismounted.

  Laura slipped from the saddle. They were in a narrow defile, quite high up between two hills. Leading his horse by the bridle, Batraj went forward, until the path ended abruptly, the hillside falling away beneath them.

  Laura saw a wide valley which stretched for several miles to the next range of hills. Marching across this valley was a column of red-coated men, mounted on mules, with two officers on horses, while behind them a standard bearer proudly carried the Union Jack.

  Laura caught her breath, and Batraj smiled. ‘It seems that your friend Lieutenant Bartlett sent for reinforcements. My agents have told me that the entire regiment arrived in Sittapore but nine days after you had left. They must have marched very quickly. However, as you say in English, they found that the birds were flown, and they can hardly have been welcomed by Bilkis. Indeed my agents tell me that there were some words between my aunt and the English colonel. The result was that the British evacuated the city and returned whence they came. Save for this one column, which has been sent to find you, and presumably me. We have been watching it since it left the city. See if you recognise the commanding officer.’

  He reached into his saddlebag and produced a telescope, which he gave to her.

  Laura levelled the telescope, and caught her breath.

  ‘The ubiquitous Mr Bartlett,’ Batraj commented. ‘I suppose he feels guilty for being unable to prevent me carrying you off.’

  Laura lowered the glass. ‘What are you going to do?’

  ‘Eighty men? We shall kill them all. Kali will be pleased.’

  Part Two THE FUGITIVE

  In Camp, 10 January 1828.

  By this time tomorrow I shall have won my spurs and my lady! I write this today, because by the same token I may also
be dead. I will send my journal back to Sittapore by my faithful Ramjohn, who will deliver my despatches to the Colonel, and I pray that it will find its way back to England, as a record of my adventures. If I am dead, I shall not mind it being read, though I would not wish dearest Mama to be distressed, nor my brother Dick, the Reverend Richard Bartlett; though I have always chaffed him about his extreme Godliness, I hold him very dear. If you read this, Dick, pray for your foolish brother, and tell Mama and Papa that I was thinking of them with gratitude and affection.

  We have marched long and well for the past two days, following a trail which my guides have found remarkably easy to read; Batraj has not made the slightest attempt to hide his tracks. Now my guides tell me that they are positive he is concealed somewhere in the hill country immediately ahead of us. I have thus pitched camp here on the plain, to rest my men and prepare my dispositions. My first battle, and I am in command!

  There is at present no sign of the scoundrel, nor of his brigands. Presumably, he feels there will be no pursuit and is in a state of complete confidence. We shall soon disabuse him of that!

  We start our manoeuvres at dawn!

  I would not have my reader suppose that I am afraid; I am a soldier, and I joined the Company army in the full knowledge that it might be my allotted fate to stop a bullet or a sword thrust, although to be sure by far the greater number of our fellows die of fever or alcohol.

  If I am to die, what shall I leave behind me? Very little I fear. Evans will, I hope and trust, keep and nurture the dogs; they are a happy little family. Prudence may shed a tear or two. Dick, if you read this, remember only that I will have died as an Englishman should. If my body is recovered and has not been looted, I leave you my sword and Company badges, as well as that magnificent pair of pistols you gave me, which are with me now. These warlike appurtenances may look unseemly in your vicarage, but you can keep them in the attic, for who knows, you may have a son who may wish to emulate his uncle and be a soldier.

  To you also I leave my chess set and board, and my books. But suppose I conquer, and triumph without a scratch? Why should I not? What then?

  I will be honest and admit my purpose is less to bring this dangerous bandit to justice than to rescue, or if need be, avenge Laura Dean. She may be dead. In which case I shall take the greatest pleasure in hanging this Batraj by the neck until he is also dead.

  But if she is alive, what sort of a woman shall I find? If she has survived she will have been most shamefully mistreated. Can I therefore hope to make a wife of her? I believe I can. I have no doubt that such a step will be criticised by my fellow officers, and even more by their detestable wives. But I also know that no matter that she has been the plaything of a Thug, I love her, and will always do so.

  6 The Bargain

  Laura watched as the little company came to a halt, and began to pitch their tents. She could almost hear the shouts of command as the men scurried to and fro.

  Batraj grinned. ‘They think they are on a parade ground. Do you know what my men will do to them tomorrow? I will make your Mr Bartlett eat his own genitals before I put the noose around his neck.’

  Laura attempted to take refuge in defiance.

  ‘You will not find a company of soldiers as easy to kill as you did defenceless villagers,’ she told him. ‘Those are disciplined men.’

  ‘I am sure they are,’ Batraj agreed. ‘On a parade ground. Or even on that plain where they are now situated. But we are not going to fight them where they can form ranks and fire by volleys. Their guides are in my employ. They will lead them into these hills. The place where we will destroy the redcoats is already chosen, and my men are already occupying it.’

  He seemed to have thought of everything.

  ‘They will send others,’ Laura said. ‘Many, many more. The whole regiment will come to avenge its dead.’

  ‘That is what I am hoping will happen, certainly. Then the entire country will come to war.’

  Laura knew that familiar trapped feeling.

  ‘No,’ she said. ‘Please...’

  Batraj raised his eyebrows. ‘Are they that important to you? And Bartlett? Why did he really accompany you back to Sittapore?’

  ‘To act as the Company’s representative. But...we did know each other, before I married Sitraj.’

  ‘Did my cousin know of this...connection?’

  ‘Of course.’

  ‘But not that you were an adulterous woman.’

  ‘I am not an adulteress,’ she snapped. ‘We were friends, nothing more. But I would not like to see him killed. Please, Batraj, if you value me in the least...’

  ‘I value you greatly, my dear Laura. Especially now that you have become a worshipper of Kali. But we must kill them. Especially Lieutenant Bartlett. I am going to castrate him personally. I have conceived a great dislike for him.’

  Laura fell to her knees. ‘I am begging you.’

  Batraj grinned. ‘You do so delightfully. Now let us he returning to camp.’

  She caught his hand. She had only one last card to play. ‘Batraj...you know that you have forced me in everything.’

  ‘It has been my pleasure.’

  ‘But then you know that I hate you for it, that I will resist you the moment I have the opportunity. That I will bring you down if I have the chance.’

  He studied her. ‘I believe you may try.’

  ‘And do you not suppose I will one day succeed? You dream of returning to Sittapore as regent. When you get there, do you suppose you can keep me a prisoner for the rest of my life?’

  His eyes narrowed. ‘Are you attempting to threaten me? You? When the British find your emerald at Slopan, you will be damned as a criminal.’

  ‘By some people, not by all. The evidence will be circumstantial. Batraj, would you not prefer to have me standing loyally at your side, throughout the rest of your life?’

  He was frowning now. ‘You offered me this, before Slopan. But you have nothing to offer me that I cannot take, have not already taken.’

  ‘Do you suppose so? I would declare my love for you to all the world, bring Sivitraj up to honour and respect you, and obey you in all things.’

  ‘Even when, as Regent, I lead my people to war against the British?’

  ‘If that is what you are determined to do.’

  ‘You would do that?’

  ‘If you spare the lives of those men.’

  Why had she not thought to make such an offer earlier, and save the village? Because Guy Barlett’s life had not been at stake then?

  But what an offer. It condemned her to a lifetime of misery, and indeed treason, for the sake of a man she really hardly knew.

  But a man who had declared his love for her!

  ‘You would do these things?’ Batraj asked. ‘How can I know you will do them?’

  ‘I will swear, any oath you wish. I will swear it upon the Christian Bible. I will swear it upon my son’s life.’

  Batraj stroked his chin. ‘You will swear to be my wife in all things, to grant me anything I wish of you or your body and take pleasure in it?’

  Laura’s nostrils flared as she breathed. ‘I will swear.’

  ‘And you will not try to escape me, at any time?’

  ‘Never.’

  He turned away from her to look back down at the little encampment.

  ‘I need those muskets and powder and balls,’ he said, half to himself. ‘I must have them.’

  ‘Then take them prisoner. But let them go again.’

  ‘Do you think they will surrender to me?’

  ‘Yes. If you have them surrounded. I will make them surrender.’

  Batraj considered some more. What she was offering was a greater asset than the mere murder of a hundred men, especially if he could obtain their weapons into the bargain. And it need not interfere with his original plans. With the regiment having evacuated Sittapore, there was nothing to prevent him occupying the city. And that would certainly be considered an act of war.


  ‘Then swear,’ he said.

  *

  The Company soldiers began to file through the pass. Poor Guy Bartlett had very little idea of the dangers of campaigning in India Laura thought. He had thrown out an advance guard of six men, some quarter of a mile in front of the main body, but they were absolutely useless; none of Batraj’s Thugs intended to show themselves until signalled by their leader, and the six men could be allowed to pass through and rounded up afterwards.

  The others rode in a column of twos. Not one man had a weapon in his hand; the muskets were carried in holsters behind the saddles. They might even be unloaded.

  ‘They are fools,’ Batraj said contemptuously.

  Laura had to agree with him. Batraj had two hundred men on the hillside below them, hidden in the long grass and behind the boulders. Another two hundred waited on the hillside opposite. And she knew two hundred and fifty were waiting down the slopes, mounted, to block the rear of the defile, while a further two hundred were gathered ahead, to block the exit. Few of the men were armed with anything better than spears and swords, but their superiority in numbers was overwhelming. As Batraj had said, given the opportunity to form square and fire by volleys to resist an open attack, the Sepoys might be capable of withstanding odds of even ten to one. But they were not going to be given that opportunity. It was the most perfect trap any general could lay.

  The column came on. Batraj handed her the telescope, and she found Guy’s face. He was chatting with his fellow officer. Both men were watching the slopes to either side, but they could see nothing.

  Batraj waited, as did his men, with immense patience; when the entire Company force was within the defile, save for the advance guard which had emerged from the northern end, he pointed his musket into the air and fired.

  The sound of the explosion reverberated through the hills, and caused confusion among the Sepoys, with the mules braying and bucking, some of the Sepoys promptly sliding off with cries of alarm, Guy drawing his sword and looking up at the hillside, perplexed. Clearly he could not comprehend the meaning of the single shot.

  Batraj was calmly reloading his weapon, with great care. He knew his orders would be obeyed.