Sandokan: Quest for a Throne (The Sandokan Series Book 6)

by Emilio Salgari

  The houses of wealthy Hindus are usually quite beautiful and well kept. They are square in shape with an opening to the sky in the centre that serves as a courtyard. They are constructed of the finest timber, have a flat tiled roof, and several rooms underground in which to escape the summer heat. Some have small orchards with mango, jack, coconut or custard apple trees and flower gardens filled with marigold, oleander and jasmine to be used in worship, or to be worn in the hair of the women of the house.

  At the sound of the approaching horses, two Malays dressed as Indian servants emerged from the house and greeted Yanez and his two companions with an awkward bow.

  “Where’s Surama?” asked the Portuguese, jumping to the ground.

  “In the blue room, Captain Yanez,” replied one of the Malays.

  “Tend to the horses.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  He climbed the four steps followed by Sandokan and Tremal-Naik, walked down a corridor and into a large courtyard surrounded by a porticoed gallery. A large stone urn stood in the centre filled with flowers.

  Yanez led his friends beneath the slender columns to his right and halted before a small group of Indian women sitting by a door.

  “Tell the mistress I’m here,” he said.

  A young woman opened the door.

  “Enter, sahib; she’s been hoping you would visit.”

  Yanez and his companions stepped into an elegant room; the walls were hung with blue silk and the floor was overlaid with a soft cotton mattress, about four inches thick, which had been covered with a white cloth. Large flowered satin cushions had been placed about the floor for guests to recline against; there was no furniture save for a small low table in the middle of the room upon which rested a red crystal decanter and matching glasses. Chinese porcelain vases stood in niches along the walls, each brimming with flowers that filled the air with sweet fragrance.

  A beautiful young woman, dressed in a pink and blue silk sari and a pair of red curl-toed slippers with silver embroidery, immediately rose to her feet. She had light bronze skin, dark eyes, and long hair braided with mussaenda flowers and small clusters of pearls.

  “My dear friends!” she exclaimed, moving to meet them with outstretched hands. “Tremal-Naik! I knew you’d come! How happy I am to see you again!”

  “How could I stay away?” said the Bengali, warmly shaking the beautiful young woman’s hand. “If Darma and Sir Moreland weren’t traveling in Europe, they’d be here as well.”

  “How are they? I’d love to see them again!”

  “They’ll visit your court when they return,” said Yanez. “Come, Surama, let’s have some refreshments. We’re all parched; the streets of Guwahati are dustier than you think.”

  “I always keep your favorite whiskey at hand just in case you decide to drop by,” said the young woman, picking up the red decanter and filling several crystal glasses with an amber-colored liquid.

  “To the future Rani of Assam,” said Sandokan.

  “You’re getting ahead of yourself,” laughed Surama.

  “Nonsense! We didn’t come all this way to fail. The crown will be yours I assure you, isn’t that right, Yanez?”

  “Absolutely,” smiled the Portuguese. “And we’re already one step closer. Last night we stole the Shaligram.”

  “The Shaligram?”

  “None other.”

  “So soon?”

  “Thanks to Yanez,” said Sandokan. “He may be getting older but his imagination hasn’t dulled with age.”

  “It’s the only way I can be received at court.”

  “Are you going to finally tell us your plans?” asked Tremal-Naik. “I keep racking my brains, but for the life of me I can’t fathom a connection between that shell and the rajah’s downfall.”

  Yanez smiled.

  “It’s pointless, Tremal-Naik,” said Sandokan. “He’s enjoying being a man of mystery. If we’re lucky, we may learn of it just as we’re about to unsheathe our scimitars to storm the palace. Am I right, Yanez?”

  “Maybe an hour or two before that,” replied the Portuguese, still smiling. “We can’t make a direct attack, we’re greatly outnumbered and we’d be crushed. So, we’ll need to use a little cunning, get close to the rajah and then strike when the odds are in our favour. This is all a big chess game and tomorrow I make the first move. He’ll fall into our trap before long, and when he does, we’ll be there to take his crown.”

  “And you’ll share that crown with me!” exclaimed the young woman, fixing her eyes upon the Portuguese. “Will you not?”

  “It is you, my sweet, who will share it with me.”

  “With all my heart, Yanez.”

  “That rascal will pay dearly for what he did to you. Selling you to the thugs; you a princess of royal blood! Perhaps we’ll sell him to the highest bidder, give him a taste of life as a slave.”

  “Provided he doesn’t share Suyodhana’s fate,” Sandokan added darkly. “We’ll see how he fares if he falls into my hands!”

  Chapter 7

  The Rajah of Assam

  THE NEXT DAY, at two in the afternoon, all eyes in the capitol’s streets turned toward a small band of men marching towards the rajah’s palace at the far end of the great market square.

  Seven men advanced in a single column, marching in perfect unison. At its head was an ‘Englishman’ dressed in white, with a grey pith helmet wrapped in a long blue puggaree that hung down to his belt; behind him came six Malays dressed in Indian garb: embroidered green jackets, wide red trousers, and multi-coloured silk turbans. Each carried a carbine inlaid with ivory and mother-of-pearl, had a pair of double-barreled pistols tucked in his sash, and wore a scimitar at his side. They were all handsome men, dark eyed and strong limbed and though there were only six of them, one could see immediately that they were not to be trifled with, for by their manner it was clear they would fight to the last no matter the size of their opponent.

  When they arrived before the palace gates the Englishman gestured for his men to halt and cast his eyes upon the squad of guards at the entrance.

  “What do you want, sahib?” asked the captain of the guard, stepping forward while his men drew their wide-bladed spears nearer as if preparing to fend off an attack.

  “I must see the rajah at once,” said Yanez.

  “Impossible, sahib.”

  “Why?”

  “The rajah is busy with affairs of state.”

  “I’m an English lord, a close friend of Her Royal Majesty, Queen Victoria, Empress of India.”

  “The rajah does not receive foreigners, sir.”

  “All doors open before Lord James Moreland. Tell the rajah—”

  “It matters not. The rajah does not receive lords, dukes, barons or earls. He does not receive foreigners, no exception.”

  “Tell the rajah I found the precious Shaligram from the Umananda Temple. I killed the thieves last night. Here, take a mohr[9] for your trouble. We Englishmen always pay for service.”

  At those words, and at the sight of that large gold coin, which Yanez had handed him as if it were a mere rupee, the guards exchanged looks of amazement.

  “My lord,” said the captain, confused, “is what you say true?”

  Yanez motioned to the Malay who held a small chest wrapped in red silk to step forward.

  “The Shaligram is inside this chest,” he said. “It was stolen by thugs. Tell the rajah he must receive me immediately.”

  The Indian hesitated for a moment, looked at the chest, then rushed beneath the large portico and began to strike a gong that hung over the doorway.

  “Finally,” muttered Yanez, calmly drawing a cigarette from a silver case and lighting it. “It should only be a short wait now.”

  His men remained at attention, rifles resting on their shoulders, eyes fixed on the Indian guards who, spears at the ready, had not moved an inch.

  Barely a minute had passed when an elderly Indian dressed in lavish, brightly coloured robes, likely a minister or
a courtier of high rank, followed by several officers with large turbans, came rushing down the great marble steps towards Yanez.

  “My lord!” panted the old man. “Is it true you’ve found the Shaligram?”

  Yanez cast away his cigarette and blew his last mouthful of smoke towards the newcomer.

  “Yes,” he replied.

  “Truly?”

  “Yes, tell the rajah immediately.”

  “The real stone?”

  “Yes.”

  “How did you find it?”

  “Tell the rajah to receive me and you’ll learn all I have to tell. I must speak with him directly. I’ll deliver the stone to him in person; no intermediaries, no go-betweens. Am I understood?”

  “Do you have the stone with you?”

  “Yes, and if the rajah refuses to receive me, I’ll go sell it in the market.”

  “No! no! my lord!”

  “Then tell the rajah to receive me now. I’m beginning to grow impatient.”

  “Come, my lord, he’ll be delighted to meet you.”

  “And I’ll be delighted to meet him! Very delighted indeed!”

  He gestured for the Malays to advance then followed the elderly Indian up the magnificent staircase, upon which, at every step there stood a guard armed with a carbine and a pair of pistols.

  “Such precautions,” muttered Yanez. “The rajah must feel somewhat insecure.”

  Four long marble galleries extended from the landing, each lined with elegant columns capped by carvings of elephant heads. Blue silk curtains embroidered with gold hung between the pillars to shade the corridors from the sun.

  The walls were lined with large Chinese pots brimming with brightly coloured flowers and banana leaves. There were guards patrolling those halls as well, each armed with a pike and scimitar.

  The minister conducted Yanez and his escort down one of those great hallways, then opened a richly carved door of gilded bronze and led them into an immense hall draped in gold embroidered white silk and furnished with numerous white velvet divans.

  At the far end, on a marble dais covered in part by a rich carpet, stood a throne-divan upon which reclined a man wearing a long white robe, his head resting against a red velvet pillow.

  Four elderly Indians, priests judging by their attire, sat in pairs on either side of him, behind them, in rows of ten, stood forty Sikh soldiers.

  The minister signalled the Malays to stop at the door, then took Yanez by the hand and led him towards the throne.

  “Greetings to His Royal Highness, Prince Sindhia, Rajah of Assam!” he shouted at the top of his voice. “I present the English lord.”

  Yanez removed his hat as the rajah rose to his feet.

  The two men eyed each other for a moment in silence, each taking the other’s measure.

  Sindhia was in his mid or late thirties, however, his love of drink had aged him beyond his years and his brow was furrowed with wrinkles. In all he was a handsome man, with fine features and sharp dark eyes, but his thin black beard gave his countenance an austere almost sinister air.

  “So you claim to have found the Shaligram?” he asked at last, after having taken in every detail of his guest. “If what you say is true, you are most welcome to my court. Be warned, however, I do not like foreigners. If this is all a ruse—”

  “Every word is true, Highness! I’m Lord James Moreland, and I’ve brought you the shell that contains the hair of Vishnu,” said Yanez. “You promised riches and great honors to the person that brought it to you, is that not so?”

  “Yes, that is so, my lord,” replied the rajah. “And if you have brought me the shell, I’ll keep my word, I assure you.”

  “Very well then.”

  He turned and gestured for the Malay who was carrying the small chest to come forward. He removed the silk cloth that had been wrapped about it and set it down at the rajah’s feet.

  “Check it, Highness; make sure it’s the real stone.”

  “There is a special mark on the stone that is well-known to the Umananda Temple gurus and myself,” said the rajah.

  He opened the chest, took out the shell, and turned it over and over in his hands. His face immediately lit up with joy.

  “The Shaligram!” he exclaimed. “My lord, you are my friend!”

  At those words one of the courtiers brought Yanez a gilded chair and bid him to sit before the dais.

  He had just taken his seat when a dozen servants dressed in multicolored livery entered the room bearing golden trays laden with coffee, brandy, ice cream and pastries. The rajah and Yanez were served first, then the ministers, then the Malay escort.

  “And now my lord,” said Sindhia after having drained several glasses of brandy as if they were mere water, “tell me your tale. What brings you to my kingdom? How did you catch the thieves that stole our most precious treasure?”

  “I came here to hunt baagh,” said Yanez. “I’m a hunter; I’ve killed many in the Sundarbans.”

  “And the thieves?”

  “I ambushed them last night while hunting a large black baagh and—”

  “A black tiger!” the rajah exclaimed with a start.

  “Yes.”

  “The one that ate my children!” cried Sindhia, running a hand over his brow.

  “What? That baagh—”

  “Later, my lord,” interrupted the rajah, “Continue.”

  “The tiger did not come. I waited and waited,” said Yanez. “Then just before dawn, I spied five Indians running through the forest with strange yellow scarves tied about their waists. I knew they were thugs; I’ve seen more than one of them in India. I leveled my rifle and fired again and again, until I’d killed them all. Then I threw the bodies in the river; a feast for the crocodiles.”

  “And the chest?”

  “I found it on the ground.”

  “And then?”

  “I heard your heralds this morning upon my return to the city and I decided to bring the shell to the palace.”

  “And now, my lord?” asked Sindhia. “What do you ask in reward?”

  “Nothing, Highness. I’m a wealthy man; I don’t need your money.”

  “Still I must reward you. You’ve done this kingdom a great service.”

  Yanez fell silent for a moment, pretending to think, then said:

  “Appoint me your chief huntsman. I’ll kill all the tigers in your kingdom. That’s my request.”

  The rajah started in surprise as a buzz arose among his ministers.

  How could it be? they wondered. That Englishman had refused all compensation and instead had offered the rajah his services, promising to rid the kingdom of these merciless beasts that had caused so much damage and destruction.

  “My lord,” said the rajah, after a long pause. “I offered honors and riches to anyone who returned the Shaligram to me.”

  “Yes,” said Yanez.

  “But you do not claim them.”

  “I don’t need them. I like hunting baagh; I wish to be your chief huntsman. That’s all.”

  “And so you shall be. You shall also be given an apartment here at court, with unlimited access to my elephants and my shikari.[10]”

  “Thank you, Highness, that’s very generous; much more than I expected.”

  The rajah removed a magnificent gold ring with a diamond the size of a hazelnut worth at least ten thousand rupees from his finger and offered it to Yanez.

  “Take this at least, my lord, as a souvenir,” he smiled. “Now, if you permit, I’d like to ask you a special favor.”

  “Of course, Highness,” said the Portuguese.

  The rajah raised his hand and the ministers and Sikh soldiers immediately retreated to the far end of the room so as not to overhear what he would tell his guest.

  “Listen,” said the rajah.

  “I’m listening, Highness,” said Yanez, drawing near.

  “You said you were hunting a black tiger the day you found the stone. Did you see it?”

  “No, Highness
,” said Yanez, raising his guard, uncertain as to where the rajah was leading. “I only heard tell of it.”

  “That baagh ate my children.”

  “An evil beast, Highness!”

  “It has eaten more than two hundred of my subjects.”

  “Indeed!”

  “You claim to be a great hunter.”

  “There’s no one better.”

  “You have a chance to prove it.”

  Yanez fell silent for a moment. His eyes turned to a pair of silk curtains that hung behind the rajah’s bed; they had moved slightly.

  Someone is back there, he thought.

  “Have you understood my request, my lord?” asked the rajah, surprised by the hunter’s sudden silence.

  “Yes, Highness,” replied Yanez. “You’d like me to kill the black baagh that ate your children.”

  “The task doesn’t frighten you?”

  “I’m not afraid of tigers, Highness, no matter how large. Tell me where it is, and I’ll bring you its pelt!”

  “If you avenge my sons, my lord, I’ll grant you whatever you desire. Think it over.”

  “There’s no need; I know what I’d like.”

  “Oh?”

  “Do you have performers at court, Highness?”

  “Yes.”

  “I’d like to see a play. An Indian comedy would be best.”

  “What manner of reward is that?” exclaimed the rajah, more surprised than ever. “It’s a mere trifle, worth far less than the risk you are going to take.”

  A devilish smile spread across Yanez’ lips.

  “We Englishmen are all eccentric, Highness. I’d like to see some Indian theater if it’s not too great an imposition.”

  “As you wish. We’ll have a show tonight.”

  “Wait until after I return with the beast’s pelt,” said Yanez. “I’d like to earn my reward. It won’t take me more than three days, you have my word. Inform your shikari that we’re to leave a half hour before dawn and have them prepare all we need. I’ll inform my men. I’ll take my leave now, Highness, and begin my preparations.”

  Yanez rose to his feet and bowed.

  “Farewell, my lord!” said the rajah, extending his right hand. “I will never forget my debt to you.”