Sword of Empire

by Christopher Nicole

  The other officer was pointing, and Guy was staring ahead of him now, at the two hundred horsemen who had suddenly appeared, out of musket shot, but blocking any further progress. Behind them there were some scattered shots as the advance guard was overrun.

  Guy gave an order, and the bugler riding at his shoulder blew a call which Laura, having lived all her life before her marriage close to the Bombay barracks, recognised as a retreat. But it was too late. The rear of the defile was also now blocked.

  The Sepoys were setting up a tremendous hubbub of alarm, but Guy rode amongst them shouting orders, and trying to restore discipline: he was certainly no coward. Under his leadership the men all dismounted, as did he; the mules were brought into a group, and his force formed into two lines, one facing front and the other back, with the mules between. Obviously he expected to have to receive a simultaneous charge from each end of the defile.

  Having taken their position, the Company soldiers waited, muskets at the ready, bayonets fixed. But the horsemen waited as well. The valley was suddenly silent, save for the still agitated shuffling and braying of the mules.

  The sun rose higher and began to play upon the scene, and the red tunics began to darken with sweat.

  Laura glanced at Batraj, and he grinned. ‘Let them sweat,’ he said. ‘That is as much fear as heat. They know they are dead men.’

  He waited for another hour. Using the telescope Laura could see the Sepoys beginning to whisper to each other. They wanted their officers to get them out of this mess. Guy was standing between the two ranks, with his companion and the company sergeant major, obviously trying to decide what to do. But there was nothing they could do. Infantry could hardly charge cavalry at odds of one to four.

  Batraj fired his musket a second time. Instantly every man on the two hillsides stood up and uttered a mighty shout, before falling back to the ground. The echoing noise was tremendous, and the quick movement obviously convinced the Sepoys that there were several thousand men in the hills around them. Several threw down their muskets, and one or two even pulled off their red jackets; they had to be caned into resuming their places by their sergeants. Several others fired their pieces, at nothing that they could see.

  Laura felt truly sorry for Guy, so inexperienced, and faced with such a foe.

  ‘Now you may go and talk to them,’ Batraj said. ‘Remember, if you betray me, they all die, and your friend Bartlett will do so very slowly...beside you.’

  ‘I have given you my word,’ Laura said, with as much dignity as she could muster.

  She stood up. She was wearing her green sari, and Batraj had also made her put on all of her remaining jewellery. Now the faint breeze ruffled her garments and her hair, for she had left it loose, so that even at a distance they would know who she was.

  She felt curiously exposed as she made her way slowly down the hill: it needed only one man to lose his head, from either side, and she would be dead. As she passed, Batraj’s men grinned at her from behind their boulders and clumps of grass.

  ‘My God!’ she heard Guy say as she approached. ‘It’s Laura. The Rani. Hold your fire!’ he shouted.

  Guy stepped out from the ranks of his men. His sword was still drawn, and he carried a pistol in his left hand; another was thrust through his belt, and he looked very determined, but completely bewildered.

  His aide, whom she now recognised as Second-Lieutenant Jefferson, appeared equally bewildered.

  ‘Laura?’ Guy asked. ‘My dear girl, are you all right?’

  ‘I am as you see me,’ Laura told him.

  ‘But...’ he looked past her at the apparently empty hills. ‘These men...was their purpose simply to return you to us?’

  Laura sighed. ‘No, Guy. I have come to tell you to surrender.’

  ‘Surrender?’ He frowned.

  ‘You are surrounded by more than a thousand men, well armed, well disciplined, and utterly determined. You have no hope of fighting your way out.’

  ‘Then we must die,’ Guy declared. ‘The Company army does not surrender.’

  ‘For God’s sake listen to me,’ she said. ‘Do you want to die?’

  ‘I have my duty to perform,’ he said stiffly.

  ‘What duty? Why did you come here? To rescue me and the Rajah? You cannot do it, Guy. It is impossible. The Rajah is beyond your reach, and so am I. I belong to Batraj now. I can never belong to another.’

  ‘It makes no difference. I have come for you, and I have found you. And I will take you back to your own people.’

  Laura wanted to burst into tears. It only made her the more determined to save his life.

  She took a long breath, knowing that Batraj was watching through his telescope.

  ‘Guy, I do not wish to be rescued. I have told you, I am now married to Batraj. I am his wife in all things. I will not return to Bombay. I will not return to Sittapore, save as his wife. Please try to understand that.’

  He stared at her.

  ‘She has become deranged,’ Jefferson said. ‘Mistreatment and too much sun. Or they have given her bhang.’

  ‘I am not deranged in the slightest,’ Laura said evenly. ‘I am trying to save your foolish lives. Batraj wants your weapons. Lay them down and go back to Bombay, and I will guarantee your safety. You can do nothing here, save die.’

  Guy still seemed speechless.

  ‘Well,’ Jefferson said. ‘If what you say is true, we can at least place you under arrest, Your Highness.’ He spoke her title with great sarcasm, and stepped forward to grip her arm. ‘We’ll see what this husband of yours makes of that.’

  ‘I would advise you to let me go, sir,’ Laura said. ‘If you attempt to harm me, all of you will die, now. He is watching us.’ Jefferson hesitated, glancing at Guy.

  ‘Oh, let her go,’ Guy muttered. ‘Is it true, what you have said?’

  ‘Yes. Yes, it is.’ She was holding her breath.

  ‘Then be damned to you,’ he spat. ‘Go back to your murdering Hindu lover. Crawl on your hands and knees to him. I despise you.’

  Laura flushed, but Jefferson’s fingers fell away.

  ‘And you will surrender?’ she asked.

  ‘No, we will not surrender,’ Guy snapped. ‘We did not come simply to rescue you, Your Highness. We came to arrest Prince Batraj, for Thuggee and murder.’ He paused. ‘Did you know your "husband" is a Thug?’

  ‘Yes,’ Laura said calmly. ‘I too am a follower of Kali.’

  ‘My God!’

  ‘That is surely grounds for arrest,’ Jefferson protested.

  ‘Simply belonging to a religion is not a crime,’ Guy said. ‘But I am not returning to Bombay without Prince Batraj manacled and under guard. You tell him that, Miss Dean.’

  ‘Do you think he is going to come down and hand himself over?’ She was in despair.

  ‘Now we know where he is, we shall come and take him,’ Guy said.

  ‘My God, my God! Please listen to me.’

  Guy took out his watch.

  ‘If you truly wish to return to his side, Highness, you have my permission to do so. I will give you five minutes. At the end of that time, I will lead my men up the hill to his position, and place him under arrest. I will, of course, instruct my men not to harm you, but I cannot guarantee your safety. Good day to you, madam.’

  She stared at him for several seconds, unwilling to believe her ears.

  ‘You now have only four minutes, madam,’ he said.

  *

  Laura turned and ran up the hill, tripping and stumbling, losing her breath, gasping. Still Batraj’s people grinned at her; they had no idea what was going on, but were content to wait on their leader’s orders.

  Batraj came down a few yards to greet her.

  ‘He has surrendered?’

  ‘He won’t!’ She was sobbing. ‘He seems to have gone mad. When he heard I was your wife he lost all reason.’ She collapsed in an exhausted heap at his feet. ‘Now he says he is coming up the hill to place you under arrest. In about one
minute.’

  Batraj smiled.

  Slowly Laura regained her breath, and rose to her knees to look back down the hill. Guy was marshalling his men into three ranks, facing the hillside on which he now knew Batraj was to be found, and completely ignoring the watching horsemen; he was clearly determined to stake everything on laying hands on the Thugs’ leader. Well, she supposed, if he was determined to fight, that was indeed his only chance.

  But it was no chance at all. The Sepoys were clearly unhappy at being commanded to commit virtual suicide, and were looking up at the hill, muttering amongst themselves. Batraj, who equally was not a coward, left Laura’s side and went down among his men, telling them what to do.

  Guy drew his sword and gave the command to fire. The Sepoys obeyed, blasting the lower slopes with their volley. One or two of the bullets struck home; Laura heard men cry out and watched one of the Thugs tumble to the ground, a sprawl of disordered cloth. Then, without waiting to reload, Guy led his men forward, trusting to cold steel in the very best British tradition.

  Jefferson and the sergeant-major were at his shoulder, but the rest were less enthusiastic. The charge was over before it could even begin. As Guy scrambled up the lower slopes he was set upon by four Thugs, who wrestled him to the ground. Jefferson and the sergeant major were not so fortunate; both were shot at point-blank range by two Thugs rising out of the grass. The disappearance of their officers proved too much for the Sepoys, who gave a collective shriek of despair, threw down their weapons and attempted to run away, straight into the mounted Thugs, who were now cantering forward, swinging their swords and lances.

  There were a few seconds of frenetic activity, swirling dust, screams of pain and shouts for mercy, then the massacre was completed.

  Laura felt as if turned to stone; she was certain that if she attempted to move she would faint clean away. She watched Guy being pulled to his feet; his shako had fallen off and he appeared to be only half conscious. He was dragged down the hillside and thrown across a horse. Thugs were gathering up the discarded muskets, stripping the dead Sepoys of their cartridge belts. Laura moaned as she watched the breeches being torn from Jefferson and the sergeant major, their genitals sliced away and tossed into the air. The same mutilation was performed on the Sepoys, and from the screams, not all of them were dead.

  Batraj grinned at her. ‘Was that not well done? It was a great victory.’

  Laura slowly got herself under control. ‘What are you going to do to Mr Bartlett?’

  ‘Why, nothing, my dear Laura. I gave express orders that he was not to be harmed more than necessary. Was that not our bargain? I have kept my part, now you must keep yours.’ He held out his hand to her. ‘For the rest of your life.’

  *

  They went down the hill, into the stench of death and the groans of the dying. Guy was starting to come round, blinking and shaking his head.

  ‘You should have taken the Rani’s advice,’ Batraj told him. ‘Did you suppose an old friend would lie to you? You are old friends, are you not? I am told you once proposed marriage to my wife? Let us look upon what you have to offer. Strip him,’ he told his men.

  ‘No,’ Laura said. ‘Please.’

  Batraj grinned. ‘Have you no wish to look upon a man you nearly married?’

  ‘Our bargain...’

  ‘Was that he should not be harmed, and that he should be released. I will keep my bargain. Strip him.’

  The Thugs laughed as they ripped away Guy’s clothing, pushing him to the ground to pull off his boots. When he was naked they dragged him back to his feet and held him before Batraj and .Laura.

  ‘Look at him, Laura,’ Batraj commanded.

  Even half conscious, Guy was panting with anger and humiliation, but then, so was Laura.

  ‘You may touch him, if you wish,’ Batraj invited.

  ‘No,’ Laura said. ‘Please, Batraj.’

  Batraj laughed. ‘Put him on a mule, and bring him to our people,’ he commanded.

  *

  The Thug encampment was en fete. The men danced and drank as the victory was celebrated. But Kali had to be thanked as well. Two of the Sepoys had been captured alive; they were now forced to kneel before the statue of the dread goddess to have their throats cut. Then their blood was scattered across the revellers. Laura, sitting beside Batraj, had the horrible liquid smeared on her face. Some was even smeared over Guy, who made no move to resist, but sat silently staring in front of him, clutching the rags of his uniform about him, refusing all food and drink. He was utterly crushed.

  Batraj was at his jovial best, laughing and talking, shouting to his people. He forced Laura to take off her sari and dine in only a dhoti, and from time to time he fondled her breasts to leave Guy in no doubt that she was his woman. But not even this could arouse any response in him.

  It was one of the most terrible evenings of Laura’s life, and it ended as always, in Batraj’s arms.

  *

  ‘Today we begin our march on Sittapore,’ Batraj told Guy, the next morning.

  The lieutenant had spent the night bound hand and foot, and had clearly not slept; the young girls in the camp had been encouraged to torment him as much as they chose. A stubble of beard clung to his chin, and his eyes were bloodshot while his body was coated in dirt and sweat and blood. And Laura could do nothing for him.

  His feet were released and he was mounted on a horse, his hands tied to the reins, which were in turn secured by a long rope to the reins of Bedi’s horse.

  He had watched the preparations with deadened eyes, which had not shown life even when Laura and the other women had bathed in the stream. But now for the first time he reacted. ‘You mean to assault Sittapore?’ he asked.

  ‘If that is necessary. But I anticipate that the gate will probably be opened to me, when I return in such triumph.’ Batraj pointed to the Union Jack which one of his men was carrying. ‘Besides, my agents have been busy amongst the people, and I do not think they will resist me. You will be pleased to know that once I have installed my cousin as Rajah, with myself as Regent, I will permit you to return to Bombay with news of your mishap.’

  ‘Why?’ Guy asked. ‘Why did you not simply murder me as you did my men?’

  ‘Because my wife asked for your life. Should a man not grant his wife what she asks from time to time?’

  Guy looked at Laura, and then away again. She could only keep her face impassive.

  The Thugs moved down from the hills. As every man was mounted they made good time, and had covered half the distance to Sittapore by nightfall.

  Laura was relieved to observe that Guy seemed to have recovered some of his spirits. He actually ate and drank, then submitted to being tied up without demur. How she wanted to tell him the truth of her situation, that she wanted him to escape and ride for the regiment, and bring an end to Batraj’s murderous career, even if it meant her own death.

  But always her thoughts came back to the little baby Rajah being carried by Miljah, to the rear of the army. His very presence left her helpless.

  *

  By the following afternoon they were within striking distance of the city, and Batraj rode forward with his scouts to see the situation for himself. He took both Laura and Guy with him. They dismounted as they approached the top of the northern hill to look down on the valley; those farmers they had encountered had been taken prisoner until after the assault had been completed.

  The city looked as peaceful as ever, basking in the rays of the setting sun. The flags were still white, and through Batraj’s telescope they could make out the remains of Sitraj’s funeral pyre. Laura could not subdue a shudder as she looked at it.

  Batraj inspected the defences very carefully, but there seemed to be no more men on the walls than usual.

  ‘Where do you suppose your regiment is now, Lieutenant Bartlett?’ he asked.

  ‘Probably back in Bombay,’ Guy replied carelessly.

  ‘Hm.’ He swung his telescope over the hills, and Laura heard
Guy catch his breath. Her own heart began to pound, as she remembered that Guy’s spirits had only lifted when he had heard that Sittapore was to be attacked. Yet the hills appeared empty.

  Then there was a flash of light to the east, followed instantly by others, a whole succession of flashes, red in the sun’s rays.

  Batraj saw them as well. ‘There are armed men up there,’ he snapped. ‘Vijay Dal, take a hundred men and find out what they are about.’

  The Thug second-in-command nodded, and rode off, followed by his troop.

  Batraj turned to Guy. ‘You knew of this?’

  ‘I did not,’ Guy replied. ‘They must be your cousin’s people.’

  ‘Perhaps you are right. Vijay Dal will find out. We will camp tonight. The assault will be at dawn.’

  Laura was sure there was something going on of which she had no inkling. When Vijay Dal returned his news was disappointing to her, if reassuring to Batraj.

  ‘There were some horsemen, Highness,’ he said. ‘But they rode off at great speed when they saw us approaching.’

  ‘How many?’

  ‘Not more than six, Highness. I sent some of my people in pursuit.’

  ‘Were they Hindus, or Christians?’

  ‘Oh, they were Hindus, Highness.’

  ‘Mujhabi is less of a fool than I thought,’ Batraj commented. ‘He will have circled behind the city to gain it. Still, it will make no difference. They must know we are here. We will attack at dawn.’

  Again Laura hardly slept, because Batraj would have it so. He was at once excited and apprehensive, and wanted her again and again. By dawn she was exhausted.

  *

  At first light they struck camp; the men armed themselves, and mounted. As before, Laura was left in the care of Bedi, on the hilltop. Guy was left bound to his horse, guarded by two Thugs.

  Batraj made a leisurely approach to the city, his thousand men spread out behind him; he knew he was expected, so he was putting on the most confident display he could. Early as it was, he was quickly seen by the sentries on the walls, and Laura could hear the bugle calls summoning the garrison to arms.