‘Abducted, ye mean?’ Thomas demanded.
‘I do not believe so, Ship Sahib. When I made inquiries, I was told she was seen in a caravan leaving Delhi. She was not being treated as a slave.’ His face grew longer than ever. ‘And when I looked, I discovered she had taken some of my money with her.’
‘Where was this caravan headed?’ Richard asked. ‘South, Richard Sahib.’
‘She’s going back to Sardhana. To her mistress, the Begum.’
‘After helping us to escape? She’d be crazy,’ Thomas objected.
‘She helped us to escape because someone told her to,’ Richard said. He told them of his suspicions. Now she’s taken the first opportunity she’s had to go home. She knows I have suspected ever since we left Agra. Before, in fact.’
‘By Allah,’ Hanif said. ‘If I thought that she had betrayed you, and you, Ship Sahib…I would strangle her, slowly.’
‘Aye, well, she’s best forgot,’ Thomas said. ‘Women are for pleasure, me boy. If they provide more than a passing fancy, ye’re unlucky. We’ll find ye another wife.’
*
Their suspicions regarding Biriappa hardened when two months later a mounted brigade from Sardhana raided deep into Hariana territory, destroying the outlying villages, devastating the fields, killing the men and the children, and carrying off the women and cattle.
‘The bitch,’ Thomas growled. Now she knows where we are.’
He and Richard summoned as many of their men as could be spared, and went in pursuit, Richard’s heart high as he imagined himself about to realise his dearest hope.
They caught up with the marauders on the border, and after a brief skirmish sent them away in headlong flight. As far as Richard could determine Peyraud was not in command.
Thomas continued the pursuit across the border, to Richard’s delight. But then his tactics were mystifying. He directed his men to attack and destroy a succession of villages. Almost it seemed that he was interested only in a tit-for-tat raid, and cooking pots. While he gave his men full rein to rape and murder to their heart’s content, he insisted that every single brass cooking pot in every village be taken.
‘We’ll make her pay,’ he said. ‘Oh, yes, we’ll make her pay.’
In brass? Soon he had a vast accumulation of pots. But when Richard urged that they ride straight for Agra, he refused.
‘Can’t ye see, Dick boy, that’s just what the bitch wants? She wants us to commit ourselves so far we cannot get away again. How many men do we command? Four hundred. She has four thousand, and cannon. No, no, Dick. When we wring the Begum’s neck, we’ll do it on our own terms.’
Richard could only accept the situation. He had no doubt the raid had been masterminded with a view to bringing Thomas and himself to Agra in order that the Begum could stage a revolution against Peyraud with their support. But he did not suppose Thomas would believe that; he had not in so many words told the big Irishman that it had been the Begum who arranged their escape in the first place.
So he and his men retraced their march to Hansi, where Thomas had the brass pots melted down and cast them as cannon.
‘Now, ain’t that something?’ he asked proudly, surveying his new battery of four guns. ‘We’ve made the lassie provide us with our first guns. We have to have guns, Dick me lad. They’ll reassure those merchants of Hanif s, when they start comin’.’
The merchants started coming after the next monsoon. And if they were disappointed to discover that Ship Sahib had no money and few goods to offer them, they were delighted with what he did offer: a five-year freedom from taxes if they would make Hansi their headquarters.
For Thomas, no sooner than Hanif had departed, had set his men searching for the old paved road which had led north towards the capital. This they had found quickly enough, and he had set them to work clearing it.
There were other roads leading away from Hansi, south and east, but these he left to the jungle; he had no desire, as yet, to invite attention from the Scindhia.
Thus the merchants from Delhi found their journey less tiresome than Hanif had warned them to expect, and they quickly realised that, relieved from taxes, they could do very good business with the strange, huge Irishman who had appropriated this fertile enclave.
Over the next two years the viceroyalty of Hariana mushroomed. The entire city was cleared and restored to good repair. Tools and craftsmen came down from Delhi, and Ship Sahib had them at work refurbishing the ancient palace within the fort to make it almost a copy of the Begum Sombre’s in Agra.
More and more land was reclaimed for agriculture, more and more merchants came to settle in the tax-free area. Of course they discovered that it was by no means actually free. Ship Sahib required of every member of the community a contribution to the upkeep of the state. From his sepoys it was labour. He offered the immigrants the option of labour as well. Some of them accepted it, and spent several hours a week in the fields or working on the roads. But the old and wealthy preferred to offer a donation in cash or goods, and these Thomas accepted, with pretended reluctance. The merchants wanted to stay in Hansi, not only because the donations they were required to give were less than the taxes they had to pay in Delhi, but also because of the absolute impartiality and relative mildness of Thomas’s rule. No man need fear the lord of Hariana, unless he broke the law. If he did, retribution was swift but never unnecessarily cruel; criminals were hanged.
The breadth of Thomas’s mental vision was as immense as his physical strength. He had Richard draw up a civil code of law so that all men could read it and understand what they could and could not do.
He also had Richard draw up an estimated revenue account, and an estimated expenditure account. Included in this was regular pay for his soldiers, and even a pension scheme.
He built courthouses, arsenals and munitions factories.
Within another year his vaults contained so much gold he was minting his own sikka rupees, inscribed with a T on one side, and on the other, Sikah (Ship) Sahib, A.H. 1164.
He also greatly enlarged his army, the commander of which was the Young Sahib, as Richard was known throughout the land. Recruits flocked to his colours, which were green, white and red. With his growing wealth he was able to buy them splendid uniforms, consisting of green tunics worn over white breeches. When it was pointed out that he was affronting the Muslims by clothing his men in sacred green, he merely grinned. His sepoys were nearly all Hindu. But he did agree to abandon his original idea of making them wear green turbans, which would have indicated that every man was a direct descendant of the Prophet, in favour of white.
Presumably he had been baptised a Roman Catholic, but he was in his heart heathen. Perhaps, Richard thought, that was why he was so successful.
Although they were utterly intimate in every aspect of their lives, ate together, slept within a few feet of each other, and were hardly ever out of earshot of each other, it was next to impossible to learn anything about the Irishman’s past, just as he never asked any questions about Richard’s. Richard did gather that Thomas had been married, and had fathered a baby daughter, but both mother and child had died of starvation while he had been at sea.
No doubt that tragedy had helped to crystallise the determination in his mind to turn his back upon Ireland forever, and seek a fortune by virtue of his own good right arm. And was he not in the same position? Richard wondered. It was now several years since he had left Sardhana. Caty might even be dead by now, and Michael as well. He was comforted to some extent by the fact that Tanna was the mother of two baby girls. But she could never replace Caty, or they Michael.
Richard’s absorption with the development of Hariana’s army was thus not merely the realisation of a lifetime’s ambition. He still intended to return to Sardhana one day, to find out what had become of Caty even if he could never have her again. And if she were dead, to avenge her. Oh yes, he had that in mind too.
Thus he drilled his men, and revelled in the new weapons Thomas was able t
o obtain for him. There were lances and swords for his cavalry, new muskets with bayonets for his sepoys. But he retained a corps d’elite of archers, three hundred strong, who provided the personal bodyguards of himself and Ship Sahib.
Best of all were the additional batteries of artillery which came rumbling down the road from Delhi. Richard had never handled artillery, but again he set to work to practise, and to learn everything he could from Thomas.
Naturally the news of what was happening in the Green Land spread, not just to Delhi, but further still.
An ambassador arrived from the Scindhia, seeking terms of trade. With him the Frenchman brought a letter from Benoit de Boigne.
‘I understand now why you would not serve with me,’ the marshal wrote. ‘You two young gentlemen had your own ships to steer, and I regret not having made your acquaintance. I will not deny that I was glad to learn that you had abandoned Appa. He is no more. But equally I will not deny that it would have been a pleasure to have crossed swords with you. Perhaps one day it may be arranged. Until then, fare thee well, young Englishmen, fare thee well.’
‘D’ye reckon that’s a threat?’ Thomas asked.
‘Perhaps he intends it as such,’ Richard agreed. ‘But it should not concern us. I am more disturbed by his reference to us abandoning Appa. Did he not abandon us?’
‘Sure and begorrah, he did, the scoundrel’ Thomas said.
‘I’d pay no heed to what Mounseer de Boigne has to say; anyone who could mistake me for an Englishman…’
*
Ambassadors also arrived from the Peshwa and the Nizam, and even from the court of Tippoo Sahib, the new ruler of Mysore since his father, the great Haidar Ali, had died. Tippoo sought an alliance with the new power of Hariana, to make war upon the English, as his father had done—and been defeated.
Thomas sent them away. ‘When we go to war, it will be for Hariana,’ he told them. Not for any Maratha robber.’
*
No ambassadors came from Sardhana. Richard found out what he could from merchants who traded with both Agra and Hansi, but it was very little. The Begum Sombre still ruled, and General Peyraud was still her commander-in-chief. But the Begum seldom appeared in public, most of her business being conducted by her officers. No one knew anything of a Scottish girl named Caty, or of a boy named Michael.
Richard looked wistfully at the growing ranks and improving weapons and discipline of his men—his army now totalled some three thousand horse and foot—and again suggested a return in force to Sardhana.
But Thomas would still have none of it.
‘We have to live at peace, Dick me boy, as long as they’ll let us. As I told that Tippoo fellow, when my army goes to war, it will be to defend Hariana.’ He rested his hand on Richard’s shoulder. ‘What’s done is done. Looking back does no man any good. Bejasus, I should know.’
Richard had to accept that there was nothing he could do. He tried sending a letter to the Begum by one of the traders who regularly visited Agra, but there was never any reply.
Yet he knew that he could not simply put down his roots in Hansi and live the rest of his life there. Hariana was not his jaghir; it belonged to George Thomas. He must either conquer an enclave for himself, or return to Sardhana no matter what the risk.
And then, in the spring of 1787, an envoy arrived from Bombay.
Diary of Mrs Alistair Lamont, 3 May 1787
I am the most wretched and unhappy of women.
To carry a babe for nine months, to bring her forth in pain, to feed her at one’s breast, to care for her, to love her, and then to have her die at less than a year old—it rends the very soul.
Poor sweet Lucy! I do not think I have ever truly loved another human being before as I loved my daughter.
Alistair has quickly recovered from his grief, and intimates that he expects me quickly to recover from mine, so he can come at me again, stabbing furiously, night after night.
And Andrew has already had the bad taste to ask for an assignation, quite failing to understand the depth of a mother’s grief. Oh, men are such fools. To think that the world is run by such weakness!
Alistair says he has heard that Richard has fled from the fearsome Begum, and is serving a mad Irishman, who is claiming a viceroyalty of his own. If I were a man, I would seek Richard out, fight at his side, and live life to the hilt until I died.
But since I am a woman, I must be content to grieve. And to dream.
Oh, Richard!
9: The Prodigal
‘Major James Wright at your service, gentlemen.’
The major was a short slender man, with a little moustache, and an air about him. He wore the uniform of a Company officer, and had been accompanied into Hansi by a mounted guard.
Now he stood before the throne which Ship Sahib had taken to using, in the huge reception hall of the palace within the fort, flanked by an English lieutenant, and an Indian havildar, bearing the Company standard.
If he was awed by his surroundings he gave no sign of it.
Richard stood beside the throne. Both he and Thomas were dressed in the uniforms of marshals of the Hariana army: green frock coats over white breeches and black boots. Gold-hilted swords hung at their sides. They needed no other weapons in the security of their own court, with their own Hariana guardsmen lining the walls, as they needed no other weapons throughout the length and breadth of Hariana.
‘I bring with me the greetings and congratulations of Lord Cornwallis,’ Wright announced.
‘Cornwallis, sir?’ Richard inquired. Did he not hold a command in North America?’
‘Lord, sir, that was six years ago,’ Wright said. ‘Have you not heard that the rebellion has been terminated?’
‘Poor sods,’ Thomas growled. ‘Washington hanged, eh?’
‘Ah, no, sir,’ Wright corrected him. ‘General Washington forced the surrender of Lord Cornwallis and his army, at Yorktown. But this was six years ago. And you know naught of it?’
‘Little news from the west reaches us here,’ Richard said. ‘Do you mean that England has been defeated in war?’
‘Well, as to that, sir, an honourable peace was arranged with France, Spain and Holland, thanks to our successes at sea. But the colonies have been granted their independence. They call themselves the United States of America.’
‘Well, glory be,’ Thomas commented. ‘Ye mean there’s hope for auld Ireland yet?’
Richard was more interested in the wider implications of what Wright had to say.
‘And Lord Cornwallis is now Governor-General of the Company? What has happened to Mr Hastings?’
‘Why, sir, Mr Hastings was recalled to England, some three years ago. He is now on trial for his many misdeeds while in India.’
‘Hastings on trial?’ Richard was aghast.
‘Indeed, sir. His enemies have brought him down at last. The matter has greatly interested the government, as you may imagine, and as Mr Hasting’s successor, as appointed by the Company, Sir John MacPherson, could be regarded as nothing more than a stopgap, His Majesty’s ministers determined to impose their own nominee upon the Company, with the aim of restoring order.’
‘And they’ve nominated this Cornwallis, to see if he can lose another army here in India,’ Thomas said contemptuously.
Wright looked hurt. ‘Lord Cornwallis is a distinguished soldier, sir. Events in America were rather the result of bad management in England than his own ill fortune. In any event, he was sent here to maintain the Company’s possessions in peace. Alas, gentlemen, that has proved to be impossible.’
‘Tippoo Sahib is out for blood,’ Richard observed.
‘Exactly so, General Bryant.’
‘And what does his lordship want of us?’ Thomas inquired. ‘We are separated from Mysore by Scindhia.’
‘That is true, sir. Lord Cornwallis is aware that there is little military aid you can presently offer him. It is, however, his intention to settle this Maratha business once and for all. I am sure you
, and all the Viceroys in central and southern India, are of a mind with him in this. The Marathas are the enemies of all mankind, gentlemen. This is well known. Lord Cornwallis considers that it would be a boon to the entire continent were the rulers of Scindhia, Hyderabad and Sardhana, to unite with him in crushing these pests. He knows he does not have to appeal to the rulers of Hariana.’
‘He knows that, does he?’ Thomas growled. ‘Does he not know that the Scindhia is a Maratha himself?’
‘A relatively civilised one, as I understand it, sir. No, no, I am referring to the Marathas of Mysore. They are the problem. But one which will be solved, once we bend our minds to it. I ask you to imagine his lordship’s delight when he learned that this prosperous land was ruled by Englishmen,’ Wright said.
‘I’m an Irishman, sir,’ Thomas told him.
‘We all honour the same King, George the Third, may God preserve him,’ Wright said piously.
‘Do we now?’
Richard decided to interrupt before Thomas lost his temper.
‘Then what does his lordship wish of us, other than our good wishes for his success?’
‘His lordship is constrained by circumstance, Mr Bryant. The Company is ill-regarded by most of its neighbours, especially those who employ French troops to guard their possessions. His lordship is of the opinion that an embassy consisting of Company officers only will meet with small response in such places as Scindhia and Sardhana, if indeed they do not meet with open hostility.’
‘His lordship intends to send an embassy to Sardhana?’
‘Certainly, sir. The Begum Sombre is reputed to command a powerful force.’
Richard pinched his lip.
‘His lordship therefore feels, that if this embassy were to be undertaken by a fellow Viceroy, a man known and respected, sir, the length and breadth of the peninsula, a man who once got the better of the great de Boigne himself, it would stand far more chance of success. That such a man would happen also to be English would of course be an inestimable advantage. I need hardly mention that the rewards for such a faithful servant of His Majesty’s Government would be enormous.’
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